Slipped Know - A Victorian Romance Novella

by Winter, R. G.

  His hand stroked her hair. “No, not yet. Let us see if there is another way. Perhaps there might be.”

  She did not know how there could be. “I cannot marry him. If I do we shall all be so unhappy. I will…I will carry on a rather shameless affair with you!”

  His chuckle was rich and warm. His aftershave wafted to her nose and she snuggled closer again, her fingers clutching at his coat in an attempt to get as close to him as possible. She knew that there was but one way to get as close to him as she wanted to be.

  She wanted that. She wanted to be in his bed and arms, her limbs tangled with his and his hard manhood deep inside her body in that joining that brought them as closely to each other as was humanly possible.

  “I imagine that would cause quite the scandal too!”

  Lights flickered in the windows. Victoria was readying for bed then. Jonathan looked up, a scowl on his face. “I must go now. I do not want to, and I do not want to go alone either.”

  “I know.” Her unhappiness reached a peak she had never imagined possible. “Oh I know!”

  Winston stood, his hand going out to help Clare to her feet. Jonathan slid around a corner and vanished into a pool of shadows. Tears burned Madelaine’s eyes. None of them spoke as they re-entered the house. Winston bade them a goodnight, saying he was headed for his club.

  Clare and Madelaine continued onward toward their own rooms. Clare asked, “Might I see you for a moment?”

  Madelaine held open her door and they went in. They took a seat on the chaise and Clare looked down at her fingers. “What was it like?”

  Madelaine, confused, asked, “Seeing him?”

  Clare gave a quick shake of her head. Her cheeks burned. “No. I mean, running away. What was it like?”

  Clare took a breath. Her eyes searched Clare’s face. “It was wonderful.”

  Clare’s lips buttoned then parted. Her breasts heaved below her gown. “What do you mean? Weren’t you afraid?”

  Madelaine shook her head, “No, not at all. All I felt was…excited. Maybe relieved. I didn’t think of the danger.”

  Clare leaned forward, “But surely there was danger!”

  Madelaine nodded, “Yes and I am very fortunate that I did nto come to harm. Are you and Winston considering running away?”

  Clare wrung her hands. “I would not mind, not the way he would I think. You see, we live very simply. We make do. We have our station, of course, but in truth it means little to those who know us because…because if it was not for my hunting, and Father’s, and the fact that we have a wide river filled with many fish, and a very large garden, we would not eat well at all.

  “We do not have the money for so many things that so many, Winston himself, take for granted. I would not mind being without those things but I am sure that he would. He’s used to the finer things—and I am afraid that he would miss them, and blame me for the lack of them.”

  Madelaine considered that, “You’re afraid he would resent you?”

  “How could he not?” Clare’s face fell further.

  Madelaine wished she could say that that was not true but she had experienced what life outside wealth and privilege was like, and she knew that it would not suit everyone.

  Winston was a good man but he had been raised to accept his place in their world, and he had been taught to run the businesses that sustained their lifestyle.

  Would he be able to leave that behind and if he did what kind of life would he lead? Winston was not Liam or Jonathan, he was not made to work hard with his body. He was athletic, yes, and good at sport hunting but what would happen if he actually had to, like Clare did, hunt down food for the table.

  He’d likely not be very good at it and then there would be resentment, on his side and aimed at Clare.

  Madelaine patted Clare’s hand. “Listen, Mama and Papa will be so pleased by my marrying Reginald they won’t give a fig what Winston does…”

  “Oh you’re not, are you? You can’t!”

  Madelaine let her eyes drop. “I know. I just don’t know a way out of the whole situation.”

  “Winston’s meeting with him you know. He likes him so! Besides I think he is hoping that your Jonathan can give him some pointers on how to live outside the life he knows so well.”

  Madelaine, curious, asked, “Where would you go if you married against my parent’s wishes?”

  “To my family. Oh they’ll be angry, yes, but they won’t turn us away. They are a loving bunch, if slightly…” Clare’s shoulders shrugged up and down. “My family is so different from yours!”

  Hoping to distract herself and Clare too Madelaine asked, “What are they like?”

  Clare smiled. “Oh Mama is sweet and kind and wonderful. She reads everything she can get her fingers on. She can milk a cow, and does when we are unable to afford servants, which is at least part of the year.

  “Father is tall and funny. He’s got a bad back that keeps him from being able to do much quite a lot of time but eh can and does still hunt. He loves the outdoors so when his back is plaguing him he insistes on his bed being right against the windows.”

  She giggled. “Once, when a right fierce storm popped up from nowhere and all of us girls were away taking tea at the pastor’s home with his wife Papa nearly drowned from the amount of rain coming in that window and when we got home we thought he’d be in a terrible temper but instead he had made little paper boats from the pages of a book and was attempting to float them.”

  Her hands lifted, “Oh I suppose we sound quite mad! It isn’t that. It’s that…well…we can’t truly befriend most of the people in the village. We have just enough nobility to be above them, you see. And we can’t really befriend the gentry in the nearby lands because we’ve not the money to entertain them nor be entertained by them.”

  Madelaine patted her shoulder, “I see.” She did.

  Clare twisted her hands. “One of my sisters wants to be a governess. She doesn’t want to marry and she said our lives have given her the unique insight into what governesses must feel as they are above the other household servants but below the people they work for. I pity her, because I know that that might very well be what she has to do. The chances of any of us marrying well are so slim.

  “We have little to offer to a man who has much of his own, and can’t marry men who could be considered below our status. So we have no choices.”

  Madelaine wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You have Winston.”

  “Yes but what happens if your parents do allow us to wed and then he finds my family far too burdensome? That bothers me too, and…oh I don’t know! It’s all so complicated and confusing! I imagine you feel the same.”

  “I do.” Her spirits sank again.

  The maid tapped at the door then stepped inside. “Are you ready for me to help the two of you get to bed?”

  Clare stood, “Oh, we are likely keeping you from your own bed. By all means please help Miss de Winter first. I can get most of the way ready but I can’t reach many of the buttons on this gown.”

  She headed for the door. Madelaine stood as well. The gown was too cumbersome to remove without help and she was grateful to take it. Once she was out of the gown, the petticoats and corset she was able to breathe freely again but she was far from sleepy.

  She put on a dressing gown and paced the floors after the maid left to assist Clare. Her thoughts were a whirling jumble.

  What was she going to do ?

  She did love Jonathan and the idea of marrying Reginald, while not utterly repugnant, was definitely not something she wanted to do.

  He was a food man, and a kind one. She didn’t want to harm his feelings—but the truth was she was fairly certain that he had none for her anyway.

  He never kissed her. He made no advances toward her at all, in fact.

  Mostly he was distant and while kind he was also hardly interested in even spending much time with her.

  He seemed as miserable as she did, which made her wonder w
hy he had even bothered asking for her hand in the first place.

  That question dogged her as she lay down and tried to find sleep. Why had he asked her? He had not known her, not at all. In fact, as far as she knew, he had never ever seen her.

  She sat upright, her eyes widening.

  Could Reginald be one of those men who sought to marry so that they could escape the whispers about their true nature?

  She forced herself to lay back down but she could not force the thought away.

  It was possible. He would not be the only or first man—or woman for that matter—who married as a part of a larger plan to escape the eyes of society so that they could carry on affairs with people of the same sex.

  Was Reginald a man of that sort?

  It would not shock her, she supposed. It would also explain away much of the questions she was unable to answer, like why had he suddenly appeared in their lives and asked for hand before Season had even started.

  He had not seen her or met her before that. He had had to have decided to ask, but why? There were so many other young woman out there with far wealthier parents and far better connections. Young women who were also quite beautiful.

  Madelaine knew she was beautiful enough—but she was not the blonde, icy, and composed beauty so highly prized at the moment. Victoria was that kind of beauty, and so were dozens or even more, other young women all coming out that Season!

  It had to be that Reginald was…she didn’t know the word to describe such a person. There were whispers of it, of course. She had heard those whispers at a young age and there were whispers that a girl she had been friends with a few years before had wed a man such as that.

  But if that was so would it be such a tragedy?

  Ig Reginald simply wanted to wed her so that he could carry on his rather unnatural affairs would he care if she carried on one of her own?

  Her hopeful thoughts crashed down.

  That was the most unfair thing!

  To ask Jonathan to spend his life unwed and alone, waiting for whatever stolen time they could find was wrong, and she could not do it. Would not do it.

  There had to be another solution, but she could not see one.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The morning brought the boring duty of calls. Madelaine dressed dutifully and set out on the rounds along with Lady de Winter, Victoria, and Clare.

  They stopped at houses to allow the footman to run cards into the townhomes that they stopped before. Madelaine found the whole thing ridiculous and boring. Later in the afternoon they would receive visitors and the houses that were open for them would be known by the cards that landed in the silver trays on the small tables of ever front hall.

  Why not just say hello while they were right there?

  Sighing and fidgeting with her impatience she didn’t pay much attention to the street so when Victoria caroled out, “Oh look! It is the duke! Say, is that a new coat? It certainly sets off his hair!” Madelaine could hardly restrain herself from growling out a ‘who cares?’.

  She most certainly did not.

  She shunted that thought aside as Jonathan rode up on a fine bay stallion. He did, indeed look handsome. His blond haor was neatly combed beneath his stylish beaver hat and his smile was wide and white.

  He doffed his hat as he peered into the windows of the carriage. “Good morning ladies! I trust you enjoyed the evening?”

  Victoria smiled and said, “Yes very much, and we are enjoying our morning as well!”

  Madelaine roused herself long enough to say, “Yes, the evening was very enjoyable.”

  It had been, but the morning had brought nothing but misery. She missed Jonathan more now than ever before, with a weight that made her shoulders feel bowed and her heart sink like a lead weight in her chest.

  Jonathan touched his hat again and then trotted away. Madelaine watched hin go, thinking hard. Again, he had not offered to kiss her hand or offered her more than a passing acknowledgment, one that he offered to all of them.

  Lady de Winter was silent and Madelaine met her eyes squarely. “He doesn’t seem to favor me as much as a man who wishes to marry a woman should, does he?”

  Lady de Winter tapped on the roof to let the driver know to head toward their next stop. “Oh pish. Men are often shy, as much as we hate to think they may be. It is quite likely that the duke is simply not given to public displays of affection.”

  “He never displays any affection toward me.” Her heart sank again. Was that how she would have to spend her entire life, living with a man who could not summon up even a modicum of affection for her?

  She was terribly afraid that was going to be just what happened if she did not scrape up her courage and her wits and find a way out of that contract before she found herself standing in the church, pinned in by the watchful eyes of the whole of society and the confines of her mother’s wedding dress.

  They headed home for a light luncheon of cold boiled meats and bread, vegetables that came to the plate still crisp and yet tender. Normally Madelaine would have enjoyed her midday meal but she was lost in sorrow and her thoughts, so lost that she nodded her head in agreement to whatever was said, which was how she found herself seated in the parlor talking desultorily while she ran a delicate silver needle into the hated embroidery work.

  Clare displayed an unexpected competency in the work. In fact her work was so amazing that it even earned praise from Lady de Winter, whose stitches were evn more fine that Victoria’s.

  Victoria looked down at the mess of tangled thread and smudged fabric on he rlap and said, “Oh, why can’t I enjoy this simple task?”

  Clare reached over, took her hoop and straightened the fabric and the thread easily. “I used to dislike it. It was never pleasurable nor something I was good at until I realized that I could enjoy it if I only considered what good I could do with it.”

  Madelaine lifted an eyebrow, “Do tell.”

  Clare’s lips formed a sweet smile. “I embroider the petticoats we wear. All of us do. It’s become something of a competition for us, in fact. We go out of our way to embroider each other’s petticoats in a most beautiful pattern and fashion.”

  Madelaine could not imagine how that would be fun but she smiled, “That sounds like a perfectly wonderful way to handle the task.”

  Lady de Winter exclaimed, “And so kind too! You must all labor so diligently to make sure that each of you have some lovely work on your petticoats.”

  “We do.” Clare bent her head back to her sewing.

  Madelaine listened to the three of them chat about their sewing. How could Clare, who was so amusing and quick, and who could shoot a bird out of the sky and who dressed as a man at times, be so…so domestic?

  Her needle punched through the cloth. Her thoughts went back to the problems she faced and her heart literally rebelled. All she wanted to do was flee from the house as far and fast as possible and escape the impending doom of marriage.

  After their sewing was done they all went upstairs to wash and change into more suitable gowns as they expected callers. They had no sooner gathered back in the parlor than the door was practically crashed by gentleman callers. To her dismay Victoria was sent to her room with a formidable look from her mother.

  Madelaine gave her a sympathetic smile and then turned her attention to the young men who had gathered there. It was clear that they were there for Clare and while she talked prettily and smiled a lot she was not interested in any of them.

  Most were second sons, and those who were not were from lower families, or families who had some if not a large amount of income. They eventually left and more visitors, this time ladies and their daughters, arrived.

  Madelaine welcomed the distraction. As they sipped tea and discussed gowns and balls and the other matters she noticed that everyone conveniently avoided the subject of her upcoming nuptials. Was that usual or were people betting that Reginald would run away from his wedding yet again?

  Resentment crept back in. Of course
they had saved his sterling reputation, and with good reason, but that did not mean she had to like it and by the time the hours for calling had ended she was limp with exhaustion and so sick of smiling that she wanted to scream.

  She and Clare decided to go for a ride in the park. Three grooms accompanied them to make sure no over-eager young man accosted them.

  The carriage that Madelaine had asked for was an open-air carriage and she smiled as she lifted her parasol higher to keep the sun from her face.

  “What a lovely day, now that we are out of the stuffiness of the parlor!”

  Clare tilted her parasol a little lower. “Oh I don’t know. It isn’t so bad. I mean perhaps it is because in the country we have so little company but I rather enjoyed it.”

  Madelaine waved at a dowager in a nearby carriage. “We have some company in the country. Do you like the city? I mean if you marry Winston you shall have to come every Season as he will eventually take Father’s place in the business.”

  Clare nodded regally to a young man galloping past on a roan colored horse. “I know. I don’t know if I care for it all quite that much however. When is your father considering handing that responsibility over to Winston? He seems rather young for it.”

  “He is but that is what he has been schooled to do all his life. That and for his part in the government.” Madelaine waved at another young lady, “Oh it seems so unfair. Our entire lives, laid out for us in neat little paths and rows and we must not deviate from that at all! But what if the thinsg beyond those paths are the most exciting things? The things that we are actually meant for? How shall we ever know what it means to be wise old people if we are never permitted to be a little foolish as young people? Surely we should be allowe3d the chance to make some mistakes, if only to learn from them!”

  “I would agree with you as that seems to be the way my parents have raised all of us and if I ever have a child that is most certainly how I shall raise them. I would hate to be so structured as you are, no offense.

  “It does seem to me that I do have some freedom in my life though.”