The Return of Lady Jane

by Michaels, Jess

  He moved away and she made no move to stop him. At the door, he turned. “Jane?”

  “Yes?”

  “There is a ball tonight, hosted by the Earl of Cornfellow. You will attend with me.”

  The words were said as a statement, but she heard the request in his tone. She nodded. “As you wish, my lord.”

  He stared at her a moment, then left the room and shut the door behind him. She smiled as she got out of his bed, wrapped her dress around her and moved into the lady’s chamber to ring for her maid. But as she waited for Laura, she grinned at herself in her mirror. She’d made headway in re-establishing some kind of connection with Colin. And that gave her hope.

  “I’m going to win him back,” she said out loud, believing those words with all her heart as she said them. “I’m going to win my marriage.”

  Colin stood with his cousin Arthur and their host of this ball, the Earl of Cornfellow, but he wasn’t attending to the conversation between them. Instead, he was staring across the room at Jane.

  She was standing in a small circle of women, laughing and chatting. She was stunning, her blonde hair done in a complicated style that included ringlets which cascaded down in little tendrils across her back, giving him a path where he could later place his lips. Her gown was pale blue, matching her bright eyes perfectly and bringing out the perfection of her skin.

  She was the focus of every stare. He supposed some of that had to do with the rumors of her return, as detailed in that Scandal Sheet rag a few days before. But he would wager much of it had to do with how beautiful she was, how charismatic, how fascinating.

  “Look at him,” Cornfellow said, his tone slightly teasing. “If I didn’t know you better, Wharton, I’d say you were infatuated with your own wife, despite all the whispers about her long exile in the countryside.”

  Colin jerked his attention back to his companions. Cornfellow, who was at least ten years older than himself and Arthur, was grinning, but his cousin looked troubled. Just as Colin felt troubled.

  “Oh, don’t look so horrified that I know your secret,” Cornfellow said, nudging Colin gently. “Warm feelings about one’s spouse seem to be in vogue lately. And she’s a beautiful woman.”

  Colin forced a smile on his face. “Indeed, she is.”

  “Yes, lovely,” Arthur concurred, his face still lined with worry. Colin appreciated it, even though it didn’t help his current situation.

  “Still, the merits of my wife are not what you and I need to discuss, are they?” Colin said, forcing his mind to go back to matters at hand, not things he didn’t want to ponder.

  Cornfellow sighed and his smile slipped. “You are always working even when you are not working,” he said. “Wharton, I just don’t know if I can support your measure.”

  Colin gritted his teeth. This had been his entire day, poking and prodding spoiled aristocrats while trying not to be completely distracted by thoughts of his wayward wife.

  The same wife who was slowly crossing the room toward him, her gaze locked on his and a slow smile on her face, which almost made his knees buckle. Damn her for being so irresistible.

  “Gentlemen,” she said as she stepped up beside him and slipped a hand into the crook of his arm. Her touch set him on fire and it took everything in him not to spin her into his arms for a wildly inappropriate kiss.

  “Lady Wharton,” Cornfellow said, smiling broadly for her. “You must have known your name was on the wind.”

  She arched a brow. “Talking about me, were you? Oh dear, for you all had such serious expressions.”

  Arthur made a noise in the back of his throat and Colin glared at him. His cousin was too protective—he hoped Arthur wouldn’t do or say something foolish in front of Cornfellow. He didn’t need any increased scandal during this delicate negotiation period.

  “I’m afraid our serious expressions were born after the gentlemen were complimenting you, my dear,” Colin said.

  “Ah, so you were discussing business,” she said with a light laugh. “Wharton’s bill, I assume.”

  Cornfellow drew back in obvious surprise that she was aware of the topic. “Indeed. And what do you think of the measure, my lady?” He smirked, as if her answer would surely be a laugh for him.

  Although Jane didn’t know the specifics, Colin was surprised when she didn’t even miss a beat. She leaned forward. “I admit I am not privy to all the nuances, but I do think that a man of position best shows himself by how he treats those below him, don’t you, my lord?”

  Cornfellow seemed to consider that. “I suppose I had not considered it that way. But do you think that by providing something more for those in the lower classes, we are encouraging rebellion? For those in lower position to grasp even higher?”

  Jane’s cheek twitched ever so slightly, the only betrayal that she found the question distasteful. “Think of the uprisings we’ve seen in recent years. Were they born of men who had been given too much, or too little? In my mind, you are preventing rebellion by supporting those without a voice, not courting it.”

  Cornwall drew in a long breath. “That is something to think about.” He turned to Colin and looked him up and down with an appraising glance. “This is as shocking to me as it is to you, sir, but you may take my answer as a tentative yes, Wharton.”

  “Truly?” Colin gasped.

  Cornwall nodded once. “Yes, your wife is very persuasive. Now if you will excuse me, I must attend to other guests. Let’s meet at the club soon, shall we?”

  “Certainly—good evening,” Colin said, somewhat in shock by what had just happened. Here he had been working and massaging Cornfellow for days, weeks even, and a few words from Jane’s lips and the man was convinced.

  He let his gaze slide to her. She was smiling broadly, and for a moment he couldn’t breathe, she was so beautiful.

  Arthur seemed less enthralled. He looked her up and down with a sniff. “Don’t you have the ability to wrap men around your finger.”

  Colin jerked his face toward Arthur, and Jane also looked at him. For a moment her expression held hurt and confusion at the barely veiled accusation. Despite the fact that he knew it was a ploy, he felt a defensiveness of her.

  “I don’t know about that,” Jane said slowly. Carefully. “Sometimes a person needs to hear the same words in a different voice for them to sink in, that is all. I’m sure Cornfellow was already nearly convinced by Colin’s arguments.”

  Arthur shook his head. “I’m sure it had nothing to do with your smiles.”

  “Arthur,” Colin snapped, his tone sharp. “Why don’t you go find someone to talk to? I’m going to dance with my wife.”

  Arthur stared at him, almost in disbelief, before he executed a stiff bow. “Of course, cousin. Excuse me.” He gave the barest of nods to Jane and then turned on his heel and marched away, his shoulders rigid and his whole demeanor frustrated.

  Colin guided Jane to the floor and the orchestra began a waltz. As he pulled her in close and launched them into the steps, Jane let out a low sigh. “Your cousin seems to despise me,” she said softly.

  Colin frowned. “He just doesn’t…know you,” he said.

  She stared up into his face. Her expression was calm even though there was a deep sadness in her blue eyes. “Like you? Do you know me, Colin?”

  He flinched at the quiet question. In truth, he really didn’t know her. She’d been an arrangement and then an attraction and then a betrayal and now she was…well, he didn’t know what she was now.

  But she’d never just been Jane. And he’d never just been Colin. And in that moment he realized just how much he wanted that. Because in this moment he felt connected to her. Almost as if he was whole when he hadn’t even known he was missing something.

  “I want to go home with you,” he whispered.

  Her eyes went wide and she stumbled slightly in the steps of the dance. “But we only just got here, Colin, and we—”

  He nodded.
“I realize all that. And I don’t care. I want to go home with you Jane. Now. Please.”

  Jane sat in the carriage, staring at the open door as she listened to her husband speak softly to his servants. There was a tension to his voice she’d never heard before. An intensity that matched what she’d seen on his face when they were dancing. Like he was fighting a battle he’d just realized he didn’t need to win.

  And she had no idea what that meant for her, for him, for them. Her hands shook in her lap as he finally climbed up into the vehicle and the door shut behind him.

  He settled into his seat across from her and the carriage began to move. She searched the darkness, trying to see his expression, trying to read him so that she understood what was happening.

  But it was impossible. The vehicle was dark. She only caught glimpses of his face in columns of light that sometimes passed through the glass.

  She settled back and took a long breath. “Are you…angry with me?”

  “No,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle through the dark. “Not at all. I just found I couldn’t wait even one more moment to do this.”

  He moved to her side of the carriage in one smooth motion and cupped her cheeks. His lips lowered and she gasped as he kissed her. Not an ordinary kiss, but something heated and passionate and filled with dark desire and steaming, swirling pleasure.

  She wrapped her arms around him, letting out a low moan as he pushed her against the carriage wall, his weight pressing into her, proving to her that he wanted her from the hard length of his cock against her belly.

  He placed a hand against her thigh and began to tangle her skirt into his fist, sliding it up her leg to reveal her stockings, her skin.

  “I need you,” he admitted, his tone taut and filled with tension.

  She stared at his face, clearer now that he was so close. She saw desperation there, emotional as well as physical. It mimicked her own.

  “Then take what you need,” she murmured as she leaned up to capture his lips once more.

  He let out a low sound, something between a moan and a sob, and then he wrenched at his trouser placard, freeing himself. He shifted her on the seat, pulling her backside half off as he knelt between her legs and positioned himself at her entrance.

  She gasped when he entered her, sliding into the slick evidence of her need as he whispered her name against her neck.

  She lifted against him, rocking her clitoris against his pelvis and sending a shot of awareness through herself. He grunted and then began to move. They were short, hard thrusts, ones that ground against her as she lifted into them. Ones that claimed and captured and ripped pleasure through her body with unexpected ferocity and speed.

  She came without warning, a release tore through her as she cried out, the sound muffled against his jacket, his shoulder. He wasn’t far behind, spending deep within her with a broken grunt.

  “You test me,” he growled against her throat as he shuddered one last time.

  “I like testing you,” she whispered back, unable to keep a smile off her face.

  He tensed at that statement and drew back as the carriage came to a stop. He moved to his side of the carriage, breaking the connection of their bodies and quickly pulled his clothing back together. She did the same, frowning at his silence and the accusatory fashion of it.

  It was like she was offered a chance to repair the breech between them and yet something always happened to ruin it. Something she said or did or didn’t say or didn’t do. A puzzle to solve, only she wasn’t being given all of the pieces.

  The carriage door opened and the footman appeared. Colin climbed from the vehicle first, then took her hand to help her down. She met his gaze as she exited, but he looked away as soon as he could and began the short walk into the foyer.

  “Colin,” she said as they handed over their coats and gloves and hats to waiting servants.

  He frowned. “I find I’m tired,” he said. “It has been a long and eventful few days.”

  The servants departed and she folded her arms as she stared at him. “So you will not speak to me?”

  He stiffened at her direct method of approach. “I’m uncertain what there is to say, Jane.”

  She caught her breath. “Uncertain what there is to say? How can you mean that when there is half a year between us? When there is such anger in you at times and such gentleness at others? How can you look me in the face and pretend there isn’t something to say?”

  He almost looked chagrined at her accusation. He bent his head briefly, and there was a moment where she held her breath, waiting for the dam to break, for the truth to be revealed. But then his expression hardened.

  “I recognize you want more,” he said softly. “But this is all I have for you, Jane. It is likely all I will ever have. And there is nothing else to say.”

  He turned and walked away, leaving her standing in the foyer, staring after him, utterly lost and utterly broken.

  Chapter Six

  Jane sat in her parlor, staring at her empty cup of tea with unseeing eyes.

  “Jane?”

  She jerked her head up to find Alicia staring at her. “God, this is your first call since delivering the baby and I am quite possibly the worst hostess of all time. I’m so sorry, Alicia.”

  “I’m not worried about your hostessing skills,” Alicia said, taking her hand. “I’m worried about you. Jane, what in the world is going on?”

  Jane tilted her head back. “I don’t know if I can talk to you about it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you hate Colin,” she said, leveling her gaze on Alicia and daring her deny the charge.

  Alicia sighed. “I admit, I despise what that man did to you. Dragging you out of London, banishing you to the countryside without explanation, tearing you away from me? But…he is your husband. There is no changing that now. And if talking about it would help, I will do my level best not to allow my feelings on the matter to come into play.”

  “Feelings,” Jane mused, shutting her eyes.

  Alicia sucked in a breath. “Are you saying yours have become involved?”

  Jane looked at her. “Perhaps they always were. I felt them growing as we courted, they bloomed when we wed and then…I was crushed after he sent me away. But there were always dreams of him, Alicia. Always these secret hopes that one day he might see me, want me…care for me. And now I’m here and—”

  She cut herself off, for the line of her thoughts was very dangerous, indeed. Unspeakable considering that she still didn’t know anything about the man’s mind.

  “Are you in love with him? Despite all he’s done?” Alicia asked, and Jane stiffened at those words she had not dared to think to herself, let alone say out loud. Now they hung in the air, a beautiful mirage that felt so very out of reach. “Jane?”

  She shook her head and dropped her gaze from Alicia’s seeking one. “Yes,” she said, that one word snapping between them. “I…love him.”

  Her sister’s eyes went wide. “Oh, Jane.”

  She nodded. “It’s desperate, isn’t it? To feel such a thing for a man who seems to hate me. Even when he touches me, even when he holds me, that hesitation is there.”

  “And that makes me wonder how it is possible that you could offer him something so precious as your heart.”

  “When Colin and I were first introduced, after the arrangements had been made, he was…he was so very kind. Gentle. We could talk for hours and never run out of topics of conversation. He laughed, he smiled. He was a different person.”

  Alicia frowned. “Very well, I do recall that somewhat. In fact, when you first became engaged, I was actually hopeful for you, that you would find the same love I had found.”

  “As was I,” Jane said. “And then he changed.”

  “Why, though?” Alicia asked.

  Jane threw up her hands. “I have no idea—that’s the problem. One moment he was declaring how happy he was to have me
as his bride, how hopeful he was for our future. The next, he pulled away and banished me. I have never understood why. I even wrote to him, after I’d been away a while. Every week for the past three months, I wrote. He never replied, never explained it.”

  Alicia folded her arms. “You have not gotten to the point of the story where he is worthy of your love.”

  Jane let out a long breath. “Being here with him now, I see him struggling. It’s like a push and pull between us. He wants me near and he can be so tender, so passionate. There are moments when his walls come down and I still see that man with whom I could have had a happy future. But then he pushes me away, almost as if he is compelled to do so.”

  “Have you asked him for an explanation?” Alicia asked.

  She nodded. “I have tried, but it’s as if he expects me to already know whatever sin I committed. So I feel as though I’m always on the edge of knowing him, knowing anything. But I never go over.”

  “It’s unfair of him to do that to you,” her sister insisted. “I know you, and I know you could never do anything so wrong as to deserve what he’s done.”

  “Even if I did, there is no making up for something I don’t even understand.” Jane sighed. “It is infinitely frustrating, this loop we’re in.”

  “I imagine so,” Alicia said. “And I’m sorry.”

  There was a knock in the parlor door and Jane nodded as the butler, Simmons, stepped into the room. “My lady, there is a missive that just arrived for you. It was declared to be urgent by the servant who delivered it.”

  Jane wrinkled her brow. Could it be from Colin? He had gone out today, gone to do more work on his proposal and, she thought, to avoid her after their encounter the night before.

  “Thank you,” she said as she took the letter. She looked down at her name, scrawled across the folded papers.

  “Who is it from?” her sister asked as Jane broke the seal and began to read.

  “Arthur Wharton, Colin’s cousin,” she explained, distracted as she read the words he had scratched out. “He asks that I join him today at two for a meeting. Odd. The man clearly doesn’t like me any more than Colin does. Perhaps even less.”