Her One True Love

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Her One True Love Page 25

by Rachel Brimble


  Jane gripped Monica’s hand, her body betraying her as it stiffened.

  The sudden silence cast a heavy shadow over the room as Jane battled to say something—anything—to alleviate the awkwardness as it permeated every inch of her previous happiness.

  Matthew came forward, his gaze intense on hers. Slowly, his study left her face to glide over her entire body, his jaw tight and his shoulders stiff. Jane stood stock-still for the entirety of his perusal and when his eyes met hers, her pulse quickened.

  Undisguised hunger shone in the dark blue depths of his eyes.

  Jane snapped her gaze to Elizabeth, who had yet to move from the doorway. She stared at her husband’s back, her face pale and her body rigid.

  “Elizabeth?” Jane forced her feet forward. “How are you? Please. Won’t you come in?”

  Amazed at the calmness of her tone, Jane approached Matthew’s wife and prayed the tremor in her lips wasn’t visible.

  Elizabeth flicked her gaze from Jane to Matthew. When comprehension lit Elizabeth’s gray eyes, Jane prayed for the floor to open up and swallow her whole. The squiress’s face was a mask of careful control, but her surprise was clear. If Elizabeth had never guessed Jane’s love for Matthew before, she had seen it now. It was as though the fact she and Matthew had been intimate was written in charcoal across their faces.

  Like the elegant, capable squiress she’d always been, Elizabeth’s face lit with a smile, her eyes shining kindly. “I do hope I’m not imposing by being here. Matthew assured me Monica and Thomas wouldn’t mind. I understand you have been working with the needy in Bath, Jane?”

  “I have.” Jane’s chest tightened, her hands clammy. “With children. In a boardinghouse. I’m very happy there.”

  Elizabeth’s gaze flitted over Jane’s shoulder toward Matthew. “Well, that’s just wonderful.”

  Chatter and laughter had reemerged in the room, and Jane turned to join everyone else, the swish of Elizabeth’s skirt following behind her.

  Thomas came forward and waved Elizabeth toward the settee. “Take a seat, Squiress. Would you like some tea?”

  Jane risked a glance at Matthew. He watched his wife with an unreadable expression, and Jane’s nerves tightened further. What had possessed him to bring her here? Did he have no regard for either his wife’s or his lover’s feelings?

  Briefly closing her eyes, Jane silently admonished herself.

  Why wouldn’t he be with Elizabeth on Christmas Day? They were not yet divorced. This was the way of things. Appearances were kept and feelings ignored.

  At a touch at her elbow, Jane flinched. She met Monica’s furious gaze, her mouth drawn into a tight smile. “Shall we see how Mrs. Seton is coming along with the luncheon?”

  Eternal gratitude slipped into Jane’s blood, and she swallowed against the dryness in her throat. “Yes, let’s.”

  Without looking at Matthew or anyone else in the room, Jane walked with Monica to the door. The moment they stepped into the hallway, Monica closed the door firmly behind them. Jane’s body turned soft as a sob of humiliation caught like the point of a needle in her throat. “How could he bring her here after everything we have shared?”

  “Shh. Lower your voice.” Two spots of color darkened Monica’s cheeks. “I am equally as annoyed as you. You must speak with him alone as soon as possible.”

  “How can I?” Jane shook her head, her humiliation turning to anger. “How will it be possible to be alone with him now? Elizabeth knows. I saw it in her eyes.”

  “And what of it?” Monica grasped Jane’s elbow and moved her away from the door. “She’s the one who betrayed Matthew in the first instance. Do not forget that. You shared your body and soul with a man you love. Nothing more, nothing less. Do not regret that. No matter what happens. You love him.”

  “No matter what happens? He dares to look at me like a lover looks at their heart’s desire with his wife standing right behind him. Why would he do that?”

  “Because he was clearly desperate to see you on Christmas Day. That is what you must believe until you know differently. Now, come.”

  “What about the luncheon? How will I endure it?” Tears burned. “How will I endure any of this? I need to go back to Bath. Back to the children.”

  Monica tightened her grip on Jane’s elbow, her eyes blazing with determination. “And you will . . . once you have spoken to Matthew.”

  Jane’s stomach burned with the fire that had scorched and seared her away from Marksville weeks before. She did not want this house, or this life any longer. Monica was right. She had nothing to be ashamed of. It was Matthew who should be ashamed in this moment, not her.

  She pulled back her shoulders and met her sister’s fiery gaze. “I will get through the luncheon and then Matthew will speak to me, Elizabeth or no Elizabeth. There are things I have to say to him. Things he must listen to, no matter what.”

  Monica smiled, her gaze glinting with pride. “At last. We are in charge of our own destinies, Jane. The sooner the men in our lives understand that, the better.”

  Jane threw a final look toward the closed drawing room door, took a deep breath, and, arm in arm, she and Monica strode toward the kitchen.

  As Mrs. Seton cleared the table and the new nanny took little Thomas from the dining room for his nap, Jane caught Matthew’s eye. He winked at her, his eyes glinting with a self-assurance she could neither understand nor appreciate. It took all of her strength not to release the ever-increasing need to scream out loud. Humiliation hummed dangerously beneath the surface of her skin and she lowered her gaze to her plate. Had he no care for her feelings? No consideration of what it did to her to see him sitting side by side with Elizabeth?

  At last, the meal had drawn to a close, but she and Matthew had not had the opportunity to talk alone. Her impatience must be palpable to everyone. Jane looked at the table, her heart thundering as her mind battled with the words she wished to say to him . . . and the physical yearning to kiss and touch him, despite the hurt clawing at her heart.

  She could not weaken.

  They had managed a brief, whispered exchange as they took their seats at the dining table over two hours before. She’d asked him to meet her in the study on her signal. During their conversation, his gaze had caressed her body from head to toe, lingering at her bosom and bringing her traitorous body alive with desire. It had been three weeks since she’d seen, spoken to, or touched him. She’d felt his absence deeply, but never as deeply now that she sat with barely a few feet separating them.

  She itched to initiate the signal of rising from the table to see what she could do to help Mrs. Seton.

  “So, Jane . . .” Elizabeth smiled. “You have spoken so little about your work in the city. I would love to learn more.”

  Jane forced her gaze to Elizabeth’s. She sat straight-backed and poised next to Matthew.

  Jane cleared her throat. “There is not much to tell, past my enduring wish to do everything I can at the boardinghouse come the New Year. I secured a place a few weeks ago but have not been allowed to work the hours I would like as yet. The Board wanted the children to have time to get to know Jeannie and me first.”

  “Jeannie is to work there too? She is leaving Marksville also?”

  Jane nodded.

  “I see. Well, that is quite the turnaround since I was last here.” Elizabeth laughed. “So many other things have changed in my absence too. It really is quite remarkable.”

  The atmosphere cooled as the iciness of Elizabeth’s insinuation permeated the room.

  Jane glanced at Thomas and Monica, who tried and failed not to express their interest by talking quietly to one another at the opposite end of the table, their lowered gazes snatching almost comically around the gathered company.

  Meeting Elizabeth’s steady gaze once more, Jane pulled back her shoulders. “Indeed they have. Matthew has been most kind to respect my passion to work. In fact, his involvement was instrumental to my success.”

  Elizabeth’
s cheeks darkened as she turned to Matthew. “And what did you do to illustrate your respect for Jane’s passion, husband?”

  Jane swallowed as embarrassment threatened. Anyone would have to be impervious to the implication toward Jane’s passion not to understand the clear double-edge to Elizabeth’s question . . . not to mention the exaggerated emphasis on the word husband.

  Matthew picked up his water and drank before slowly returning his glass to the table. Ignoring Elizabeth, he looked to Jane, his gaze dark with determination and his jaw tight. “I spoke to the Board and signed as guarantor for both Jane and Jeannie. It was the least I could do when the city is crying out for good-hearted, loyal, and hardworking women willing to do all they can to care for these unfortunate children.”

  “I see.” Elizabeth drew her napkin from her lap and put it on the table, her knuckles showing white as she gripped it. “And presumably you will be leaving Marksville as soon as possible after Christmas, Jane?”

  Jane nodded. “I will.”

  “And what will happen then? How will Matthew’s role in your new vocation be employed if he is here and you are there?”

  Jane opened her mouth to respond, but Matthew spoke first.

  “Why does that concern you?” He glared at Elizabeth’s turned cheek. “Will you not be leaving the village as soon as possible after Christmas too?”

  Elizabeth snapped her head around, her gaze angry and her cheeks red. “I believe that is still to be discussed, is it not?”

  Their gazes locked. Unable to bear witnessing their heated words a moment longer, Jane stood. She might need to speak with him, but she would not tolerate being subjected to matters that were only Matthew and Elizabeth’s to overcome.

  “If you will excuse me, I think I will go and ask if I can do anything to help Mrs. Seton.” She dropped her napkin on the table. “Why don’t we reconvene in half an hour or so in the drawing room for a game of charades?” She looked down the table and met Monica’s suspicious appraisal. “Monica? Would you show Matthew and Elizabeth into the drawing room?”

  Monica stood, her chin high. “Of course.”

  Leaving the table, Jane walked into the hallway and as soon as she was out of sight of the dining room, she hurried to the study and closed the door. Walking to her father’s desk, she gripped its edge to steady herself. Her burgeoning courage to tell Matthew how they could have everything they wanted, with a little compromise and a lot of planning, suddenly felt futile.

  The piqued and angry interest in Elizabeth’s gaze could not be denied. It seemed that now she suspected Jane and Matthew’s intimate involvement, her own infidelity had fallen by the wayside. Would Elizabeth’s once-sweet nature become overrun with jealousy? The look of possession in her eyes led Jane to believe Elizabeth might well try to reclaim Matthew as her own.

  Jane closed her eyes.

  What if Elizabeth attempted to thwart any plans Matthew might have with Jane in the future, by ruining him financially?

  Jane pressed her hand to her stomach as nausea rose bitter in her throat. If she had suffered love’s hurt when she thought there no way of Matthew being hers, it stung so much sharper now that she had known him and might well lose him.

  Footsteps on the wooden flooring sounded outside the room. Jane snapped her eyes wide open. She drew up straight and smoothed down her dress with trembling fingers. Whatever was said between her and Matthew now, she would be entirely honest and forthright. She loved him, but she would not continue an illicit affair, even after their one night of weakness.

  There was a knock on the door.

  Jane forced her chin high. “Come in.”

  From this moment on, she would do all she could do to be together with Matthew the right way . . . or not at all. If he wanted her to wait, to ply away at her work in Bath in subservient silence, he could think again. As much as it seared her heart a second time, if he expected that, she would sever all ties and do her utmost to move on without him.

  The door slowly opened.

  Elizabeth—not Matthew—stepped over the threshold.

  Jane stiffened. “Elizabeth. Is everything—”

  “There is no need to pretend, Jane.” She closed the door and walked forward. “I would have to be blind not to see what has clearly arisen between my husband and you since I have been away.”

  The haughty tone of her voice bit at Jane’s fragile patience. “You have been away with your lover, Elizabeth.”

  “And that makes you lying with Matthew acceptable?”

  Jane moved away from the desk to stand in front of the window, humiliation scratching at her heart. “Of course not, but I won’t stand here while you judge me.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “Why would I judge you when we are one and the same? We both hanker after men who are not our own.”

  Insult and anger lashed at Jane and she shook her head. “As much as that notion might alleviate your guilt, we are not one and the same. You were married when you betrayed Matthew, whereas I am unattached and in love with a man whom I believe will soon be divorced. Let us not forget this situation would never have happened if you had stayed faithful.”

  Elizabeth narrowed her gaze. “You do not know that. Neither of us can predict a future that hasn’t taken place.”

  “Maybe not, but I do know Matthew did all he could to make your marriage work. The only thing he can be accused of is marrying you when he didn’t love you. That was his mistake when deep in his heart he knew it to be wrong. He would’ve stayed faithful to you, Elizabeth. I know it, and I am quite certain you do too.”

  Their gazes locked as Jane’s legs trembled, but she would not allow Elizabeth to paint her as a scarlet woman. Jane did not shirk her decision to give Matthew every part of her, regardless of the fact that he might never be hers.

  Where was he? Did he not suspect with her absence and Elizabeth’s that they were together?

  Elizabeth exhaled and slumped her shoulders. She walked to a wing-backed chair and sat. “You are right. Matthew would only have ever done the decent thing by me.”

  Surprise jolted her and Jane stared. “Do you mean that?”

  “I do.” Elizabeth smiled wryly. “I have suspected your love for Matthew for a long time, but there was little I could say or do to make you, me, or him feel any the better for that knowledge. I had no idea he held feelings toward you too. I was never going to be what he needed, Jane. Not really. I tried but ultimately failed on the most appalling scale.”

  Uncertainty rippled through Jane. How was she to know Elizabeth acted sincerely? Her actions in the past, toward village affairs, spoke of loyalty and kindness, yet she had betrayed and lied to Matthew for many months. Jane moved away from the window and settled in the chair behind her father’s desk.

  She met Elizabeth’s expectant gaze. “Any feelings Matthew might have had for me, he ignored because he was married to you.”

  “I am neither surprised nor happy about that. I could see his love for you the moment you were in the room together.”

  Warmth spread through Jane’s heart and cheeks. “I’m thankful my love is no longer one-sided. So what happens now?”

  “Matthew has asked for a divorce, and I will give it to him. I regret I was never destined to be what he wanted or needed in a wife.”

  Unease clenched in a tight knot in Jane’s stomach. “Which is?”

  Elizabeth softly smiled. “You. A woman who strives to be a devoted wife, mother, and servant to the people of Biddestone.”

  Elizabeth’s sentiments niggled at Jane’s conscience. Was she that woman any longer? Being Matthew’s wife, the mother of their children, and squiress to Biddestone no longer filled her with the innate sense of satisfaction it once would have. She was changed. Much changed.

  The study door banged open, and Jane and Elizabeth leapt to their feet. Jane put her hand to her racing heart. “Matthew.”

  His stormy gaze locked onto Elizabeth. “What are doing? What did you say to her?”

  Chapter
25

  “Well?” Matthew closed the door and stormed across the room to Jane. He placed his hand at the base of her spine and she trembled. He held Elizabeth’s gaze. “I love her, Elizabeth. I won’t let you taint our future together.”

  “I was doing no such thing. In fact, I was just telling Jane how much more suited she is to being your wife than I ever would have been.”

  Matthew frowned and looked to Jane. “Is this true?”

  She nodded, her eyes wary and not soft with happiness, as he wanted.

  “Jane?”

  “Elizabeth has been most amenable, but . . .” She slipped from his grasp and moved quickly past him to the door.

  “Jane, do not leave.” Matthew took a step toward her. “I want you to stay with me.”

  She opened it and smiled at Elizabeth. “Would you mind leaving us, Elizabeth? I would like to talk to Matthew. Alone.”

  Matthew looked from one woman to the other, his unease expanding with each passing second. Jane looked different. Angry. Afraid. Most of all, unhappy. His heart kicked painfully, even as Elizabeth walked to the door.

  She touched her hand to Jane’s arm. “Please be assured I wish neither of you ill. Together, I am sure we can work out a plan that suits us all.”

  Plan? Matthew crossed his arms. Did Elizabeth think his love for Jane held a plan? He wanted to be with her, no matter what. Plans didn’t come into it. Everything felt embroiled in whether or not he could control his heart now that it was entirely Jane’s to do with as she would.

  Jane closed the door behind Elizabeth and walked toward him. She gestured with a wave toward her father’s chair. “Please, sit down.”

  “What’s happened?” He clenched his jaw, fear creeping through him that this was the end. After the precious time they’d spent together, he would lose her anyway. “Has Elizabeth said something to upset you?”

  She shook her head. “No. She said something that has made me question if what we are embarking on is the right thing to do. For either of us.”

  “What we’re embarking on? Jane, I love you. You make the love between us sound like a nonsensical business arrangement.” He came around the desk, his hand outstretched to take hers. “We will be together. It’s just going to take some time.”

 

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