“If you don’t mind. It’s a bit dingy as it is, not used in so many years. Actually, I’d thought perhaps a cheerful print of wallpaper might be just the thing.”
“A lovely idea.” Jane set her cup on the table beside the bed. “You be the one to choose the print. But don’t on any account leave Graywood without a proper escort. Which probably means Rossmere, for the time being. It wouldn’t do for you to run smack into John Parnham in the village and have him pester you. Until we’ve decided that one of the footmen is to be trusted with your care on such an errand, I’d far prefer you go with Rossmere.”
“But it’s such an imposition! What will he think of me?”
“He’ll think you’re a sensible young woman, I promise you."
Nancy sighed and nodded. “I’m sure you’re right. How very extraordinary that you were a determined spinster last month and today you’re married. If anyone had told me you were going to marry Lord Rossmere then, I’d have thought them quite addlepated. He’s a very handsome man.”
“Yes, isn’t he?” Jane asked. She bit back the smile that wanted to emerge at this indication of her sister’s uncertainty as to anything else positive she could say about Stephen Rossmere. Who was Jane to quibble with her reasoning? Jane wasn’t at all certain what to make of him, either. She was staunchly ignoring the signals her heart sent whenever he was anywhere near her. Those excited thuddings were beside the point, if the man couldn’t be trusted.
“I have something very, very personal to ask you, Nancy. It’s not idle curiosity, but a matter of importance to me. And yet it may embarrass you. The subject is one of which no young lady of refinement would speak.”
“Good heavens,” her sister exclaimed, a twinkle appearing in her eyes. “It must surely be something of interest, in that case.”
“Well, it is something only married women are supposed to know anything about.”
Nancy’s cheeks blossomed with a pink flush. “Ah, I see.”
“If you would rather not discuss it, I will quite understand.”
“No, no. I would be willing to tell you what I can, which isn’t much, I fear. I never did catch on to what it was all about.”
Jane’s brows rose at this confession. “You mean, you weren’t really an active participant?”
“Yes, that, but also I simply expected something more to happen.” Nancy shrugged and made a face. “Since there’s little reason to be loyal to someone who has behaved like my husband, I will tell you that each time we were intimate, not much happened at all, for me. John would kiss me and touch me, ahead of time, and then suddenly he would climb on top of me and plunge his, ah, thing into me and I would lie there until it was over. I do understand that is how babies are conceived, so I should be grateful, on behalf of William. But, really, there was something about it that was frightfully disappointing, you know?”
“Yes, I do know. And I don’t understand it, either.”
“But you’re so newly married..."
“Oh, that.” Jane slid her legs off the bed and into the new slippers waiting there. She lifted her wrap from the chair and tossed it about her shoulders. It was easier not to look at Nancy while she talked, because what she had to say was perhaps just the least bit scandalous. She walked to the window and gazed out over the splendid view she’d promised Rossmere. “I had a great deal of physical contact with Richard. Not a consummation, of course, because of his illness, but we were very attracted to each other and spent a great deal of time together, and... things happened.”
“My word! I had no idea.” Nancy’s voice dropped to a whisper that barely reached her sister. “What kind of things?”
“They’re a bit embarrassing to describe. But let us say the sort of things that happen before the finale, the kissing, and touching, and hugging and stroking.”
“And did you like that?”
“Very much. You see, what would happen was most remarkable.” Jane finally turned to face her sister. “After a certain amount of contact, my body would react quite strongly, quite pleasantly. All the tension that had built up would float away on these waves of release. Have you never had that happen?”
Nancy frowned. “It has started to happen a few times, but then the finale, as you call it, sort of stopped it. If you see what I mean.”
“Precisely. Did you ever suggest to John that you were disappointed?”
“Oh, no! He was very certain that he was doing what he should. He rather assumed that I either wouldn’t care what happened or that I had the same sort of response that he had. And perhaps it’s not quite polite for a lady to be so involved. Every once in a while he would refer to my doing my duty. It has a very unpleasant sound to it, that word.”
“Doesn’t it?” Jane saw Rossmere riding Ascot along the road back to Graywood. She ignored the fact that her pulse speeded up at the sight of him. “Rossmere seems to think that the release should happen from his... well, from the finale, just as Parnham did.”
“So you think there’s something wrong with us?” Nancy asked, surprised.
“I don’t know. Perhaps. But does it matter?” Jane regarded her sister with an almost pleading expression. “Why shouldn’t we get pleasure from the encounter? I become quite tense awaiting the release, and when it doesn’t come, I feel incredibly irritable. You know me, Nancy. As a rule, I’m a very even-tempered person. But since I’ve been married I’ve felt very shrewish indeed. Couldn’t one’s husband make an effort to please one, even if one needed something different than other women?”
“I suppose they can’t see why they should. They’re getting what they want. Parnham behaved that way about any number of things, and I accepted it because I was his wife. I was raised to obey my husband, not to question him.”
“That’s not good enough for me,” Jane retorted. “If I’d wanted to be frustrated, I could have done it by myself.”
“Jane!”
“I’m shocking you.” Jane laughed, a mischievous light in her eyes. “It’s just that I have gone very much my own way for so many years that I have no intention of crippling myself to adjust to Rossmere. And I see no reason at all why I should. We’ve made a fair bargain in entering into matrimony; it’s no time to start bowing down before all the senseless conventions that would rob either of us of our spirit.”
“But his manly pride will be in question.”
“Hogwash! What’s so remarkable and manly about being able to mate with a defenseless woman? I can see no more merit in it than a woman lying about like a sack of flour while he enters her. If that is what he wants, he shall have it very rarely indeed, for I know a great deal more than some innocent maid who’s been brought up on the old wives’ tales of doing one’s duty.”
“You won’t make him very happy, Jane.”
Jane had a sinking feeling in her stomach. “No, I suppose not, but I can’t have less than I had with Richard and still feel right about Stephen as my husband.”
It was Nancy who turned aside now. She straightened the ruffled collar of her walking dress with nervous fingers as she asked, “Are you still so attached to Richard that there is no room for a new love in your heart?”
“No. Rossmere has become very important to me.” Jane wouldn’t admit, even to herself, how important. “But Richard taught me something that I won’t ever forget. He said that I must respect myself before I could respect anyone else, and that no one had the right to ask me to give up that self-respect. Not my husband, not my father, not my family. No one.”
“But is it asking you to give up your self-respect in just going along with what Rossmere wants?”
“Of course it is.” Jane regarded her sister with indignant eyes. “Didn’t Parnham try to destroy your self-respect by making you believe he was right and you were wrong?”
“Well, yes, but that’s an entirely different matter.”
“There are a few similarities,” Jane insisted. “Parnham was trying to destroy you; Rossmere is trying to make me deny myself in a differen
t way. I realize he doesn’t see it that way, Nancy. That doesn’t really matter. I’ll keep trying to make him understand. But if he doesn’t..." She shrugged her shoulders. “Even for him, I won’t give up my self-respect.”
Nancy’s fingers had stilled at her throat. “It seems so little to ask.”
“I know. That’s why most women would agree to it. And keep agreeing to each of the ‘little’ things their husbands ask, and their families, and the society in which they live. They will put up with not being educated, with being confined to the house instead of riding about as a man would. So many ‘little’ things. And in the name of being compliant and good-natured. Well, I, for one, am not interested in being compliant, and I will be good-natured in a way that suits me.”
“You have a great deal more courage than I do, Jane.”
She smiled then. “I doubt it. At the moment I have more conviction. You’ll have enough courage to see you through this. troubled time. And I’ll be there to help you."
Nancy’s jerky movements had smoothed out and her distraction had diminished, but Jane knew she was far from strong. This was no time to show any sign of weakness for her sister to emulate. Having left her husband, Nancy was not going to have an easy life; every level of their country society would frown on her behavior, not knowing what had caused the separation.
“You must indicate by your actions that you had a perfect right to do what you did, whether your neighbors understand or not. You know it, I know it, and a few others will know it. But most of the world won’t, and you won’t be able to explain to them. You’re going to need a great deal of both courage and conviction if you’re going to make a reasonably comfortable life for yourself. You’ll have to believe that you’re worthy of it, that you and William deserve to be happy, no matter what has happened.”
“Yes, I can see that.” Nancy straightened her shoulders. “Thank heaven I have you as an example. I can hardly bear to think what kind of counsel I would get from Aunt Mabel.”
“Never mind. I just tell myself she means well, and then go my own way."
Nancy grasped her sister’s hands and squeezed them. “Thank you. I must go now and take William for his outing. Did I tell you we found the most adorable perambulator in the attics? It must have been Richard’s.”
* * * *
Richard, Richard, Richard. Rossmere thought that if he heard the name once more he would throttle whoever dared to utter it. So the man had been a saint! Everyone found it convenient to forget that he was a mad saint. The viscount had no intention whatsoever of becoming a saint and he didn’t wish to hear about anyone who had. Richard’s shadow, if not his ghost, hung over Graywood like muggy weather.
His servants still worked there, his books were on the shelves, his plans for the crop rotation were still in effect. In the library there was a portrait of him as a lad of ten. Surrounded by dogs, cats, goats, horses, he wore a devilish grin and rumpled buckskin breeches. Even then Richard hadn’t put up with the standard dressed-up little-boy portraits that were painted in those days.
The hell with him! He was dead. Rossmere was tired of being compared with him by everyone from his wife to the servants. He would be damned it he would let Jane hint at how Richard had pleased her physically. They hadn’t even been married! How dare she even allude to such behavior? It he’d known about it, he wouldn’t have married her.
In his more reasonable moments he knew that wasn’t true. But the reasonable moments dwindled as he stayed on at Graywood. For a few nights Jane allowed him to “take” her, remaining cool and distant. Then a night came when even that changed. She had preceded him upstairs, and he came into their bedchamber smiling his manly reassurance, only to find the bed empty.
Really, it was too much. He stalked to the door of her sitting room and knocked loudly. She called to him to enter. Rossmere found her in her nightdress, sitting up on a daybed that had been squeezed into one corner of the room. “What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded. “Why aren’t you in our bed?”
“I feel slightly indisposed. Nothing to alarm you, just enough to not feel up to obliging you with my presence this evening.”
That damned reasonable tone of hers was enough to drive a man to distraction. Didn’t she have any conception of a wife’s proper duties? “I would count it a favor if you would join me,” he said shortly.
“It’s a favor I can’t grant you. Perhaps another night.”
Now she really had shocked him. “Surely you don’t intend to make a habit of holing up in here,” he protested, running a hand roughly through his dark hair. “You’re my wife.”
“Yes.” Her voice was thoughtful. She drew a brush through her hair, regarding him closely as she spoke. “I have no intention of denying you your conjugal privileges. However, every night does seem a bit excessive, when you refuse to honor my wishes in the matter. Someday soon we should discuss the subject and come to some mutually satisfactory decision."
“Someday soon! The devil you say! We will discuss it this minute.”
“I think not.” Jane rubbed her forehead with those long, thin fingers of hers. “My head is aching abominably, I fear. Perhaps I’m coming down with something.”
“You’re the healthiest woman I’ve ever met.” He glared at her, but she merely closed her eyes and allowed a pained expression to gather on her face. “Tomorrow. We will discuss the matter tomorrow.”
“If I’m well enough,” she said feebly.
* * * *
Two things happened the next morning to prevent Rossmere from pursuing his intention of confronting Jane. A messenger arrived with information about John Parnham that would be useful in keeping Parnham from any threats of removing his wife and son from Graywood. Rossmere had directed his investigation, at Lord Barlow’s expense, toward Parnham’s previous neighborhood. It had taken more digging than Lord Barlow’s original, casual inquiry had set in motion to turn up damaging information about Parnham’s reputation and financial dealings.
Without consulting his wife, because he was not in charity with her, Rossmere wrote a note to Nancy’s husband that informed him of the outcome of the investigation and strongly suggested that he neither put in an appearance at Graywood, nor trouble his wife further in any way. “Lady Nancy will live with us on a permanent basis,” he wrote, “and any interference from you would be most unwelcome and, indeed, most unwise."
Just the proper amount of threat there, he decided as he sealed the single sheet and rang for a messenger to convey it. Jane wouldn’t even know, until he deigned to tell her, that he had accomplished this mission. It was, surely, one of the obligations he had undertaken when he married her. She would do well to think again about fulfilling her own obligations in this marriage, he thought with a surge of self-righteousness.
Within the hour a different messenger arrived, with a draft for the agreed-upon marriage-settlement sum. It had not taken Lord Barlow as long as he expected to arrange. Rossmere stared at the check for some time, hardly able to conceive that he would now be able to restore Longborough Park to its former beauty and comfort. It was a project he desired to set in motion at the earliest possible moment, but having been married less than a week...
The notion of departing for Longborough Park suddenly took strong possession of his mind. Aside from giving him a chance to start the desired renovations, such a trip would provide the opportunity of teaching his wife a much-needed lesson. If he were to desert her so soon after their nuptials, she would surely regret her incomprehensible behavior and soften her stance toward him.
Rossmere called for his recently acquired valet and directed him to pack for the trip. When the viscount informed his wife, rather stiffly, that he was leaving, she smiled serenely and said, “Have a pleasant journey, Stephen. Don’t hurry back on my account. Nancy and I will be very comfortable here together.”
Chapter 19
Jane wasn’t nearly as sanguine about Rossmere’s leaving as she had let on. With him away, there was no hope of t
heir working out their disagreement. And any separation at this juncture, so early in their marriage, threatened to develop into a permanent estrangement. She would have liked to talk to Nancy about these matters, but she felt Nancy had more than enough problems of her own.
Only with Rossmere’s absence did Jane fully realize how attached she had become to him. She missed the deep sound of his voice and the intimacy of his occasional smile. Her fingers itched to lose themselves in his wiry, thick hair and to run boldly over the rough skin of his arms and his chest. Without their battles of wills she felt lethargic, as though only his challenge could fully stimulate her to her best efforts. How perverse of her to miss him because she had no one with whom to argue!
Her Aunt Mabel arrived in the best Willow End carriage two days after Rossmere had departed for his ancestral home. When Mabel was informed of this circumstance, she clasped at her heart. “Surely you haven’t driven him off already. I knew I should have spoken with you. It was just that I was sure you knew as much as you needed because of your... friendship with Richard. Really, Jane, I cannot believe that you would have the least difficulty adjusting yourself to your marital duties.”
“He’s gone off to see to the renovation of Longborough Park,” her niece protested.
“Nonsense. No man leaves his wife so shortly after their vows have been exchanged unless he is dissatisfied with her physical compliance. You have alienated him, I feel certain of it. Otherwise he would have taken you with him.”
Jane shook her head in a rueful gesture that did not reassure her aunt one bit. “Now, where did you come across this important fact about newly wedded gentlemen, I wonder?”
“It won’t do the least good to mock my knowledge, young lady. I’ll have to think of an excuse to fob off the parish ladies. They’ll know just what has happened, you may be sure. I shall say you had to stay here to see to Graywood, since it’s been occupied by tenants for the last year. That will help. They’ll all know just what tenants can do to a place.”
The Proud Viscount Page 18
