Destitute On His Doorstep (19 page)

She fell into step beside him, and together they strolled away from the house. She tipped her head to the sun. It was so good to feel the heat on her face. ‘I do hope your intentions are honourable, Colonel,' she said, trying to sound flippant. ‘I seem to be at your mercy. Are you determined to compromise me?'

He gave her a slow smile. ‘Soothe your fears, Jane. That is not my intention. And have a care. You'll get freckles,' he teased.

‘Then it's as well I'm not vain about my looks.'

They carried on walking, neither of them speaking. Giving Francis a sideways look, Jane noted that he looked thoughtful. It was clear he had something on his mind. The more she saw of him and got to know him, the more she became attuned to him. She could feel the
vibration of some strain in him, and she was beginning to think she had something to do with that.

‘Francis, what is it?'

‘What?' He raised his eyebrows in question.

‘What aren't you telling me?' she asked with what patience she could muster. ‘Why have you come to see me?'

‘Because I am deeply concerned about you—more so since the fire, and to tell you there are threats being made against you.'

‘Threats—against me?' She sighed deeply in exasperation. ‘I have to confess that I too am worried. Any day now I fear someone will set a torch to the house, or that some other disaster might befall me.'

‘There you are then—you are afraid.'

He fell silent. Jane felt a qualm of unease. He really did seem troubled. ‘Tell me what they're saying about me in the town.'

He narrowed his eyes at her, obviously trying to guess her reaction when he told her. ‘Atkins has been busy stirring up trouble for you. Clearly he feels cheated out of both you and Bilborough, so he is spreading malicious gossip in the hope that people will listen to him.'

‘And are people listening to him?'

‘Unfortunately they are.'

‘What has he been saying?'

‘He is making you out to be a monster, a witch, blackening your character, carefully prejudicing any potential jury members by making sure your guilt is spread in every scandalous detail. Your relationship to your stepmother—or corroboration, as people prefer to call it—does not help matters.'

‘But that's just slander—poisonous talk. Is there anything that can be done?' she asked, sickened by all this nonsense.

‘Apart from going before them and looking as little like a depraved monster as possible, very little.'

With a sigh she shook her head. Now more than ever she began to feel the stricture of her situation. ‘None of this surprises me. I have lived long enough to have a fairly cynical view of human nature and to know how directly public opinion expresses itself. And yet I am still shocked. My name is on everyone's lips, for they are certain I am as much a witch as Gwen was. How cruel the lie that shames my family name,' she said bitterly. ‘My fate does not bear thinking about if those who think me guilty take matters into their own hands. We all know how witches are dealt with—but I'd prefer not to have to dwell on that aspect of the matter.'

‘No,' Francis agreed, ‘neither do I. They've approached Justice Littleton to have you examined, but since I made a point of having a word with him, implying that I would withdraw my funding for the new orphanage that's being built if he apprehends you in any way, he's reluctant to do so.'

Jane stopped and faced him. ‘You did that for me?'

Francis nodded. ‘My influence is strong in Avery. In any case, despite Justice Littleton's puritanical outlook on all things, he has little stomach for trying a witch. However, I doubt it will change anything. The so-called witch hunters are determined to have their pound of flesh.'

‘If they are as determined as all that, then they are
not going to change.' Jane looked at him, a cold shiver running up her spine. ‘Do you think I'm a witch?'

He looked at her incredulously. ‘Give me some credit. I am an educated man. I do not believe in witches. It's just superstitious nonsense.'

‘I'm very much relieved to hear it—although being a witch would have some compensations. I would have turned Jacob Atkins into a toad at first sight,' she remarked crossly. ‘What can I do?'

‘As to that I have two suggestions.'

Interest kindled in her eyes. ‘And they are?'

His blue eyes became fixed on hers, warm but serious. ‘First, for your own safety I think you should leave Bilborough. Have you thought any more about going to London?'

‘I have, but that's all I have done. I would like to go to present my case—to have Bilborough returned to me, but I'm afraid my funds are rather limited just now.'

‘If you are hellbent on doing that, then I cannot prevent you and would not dream of trying. It is your God-given right. However, I can provide you with funds to stay elsewhere,' he said slowly. ‘I can arrange for you to leave Avery. I have friends in London you could go to.'

Jane stared at him in bemusement. ‘But why, when I might use the funds against you? I might even succeed in having the estate returned to me, in which case you would be made to vacate Bilborough. Forgive me, but I am confused.'

‘The money I would give you would be for your keep and nowhere near the amount you would need to present your case.'

‘I see. Please do not think me ungrateful, but I cannot accept your offer. I will not take money from you or accept your charity. In short, I will not be obligated to you, Francis. I am fairly self-sufficient. I prefer it that way.' She had her pride and she was adamant. Falling into step beside him when he walked on, she looked at him askance. The gravity on his face alarmed her. She stopped walking and grasping his arm, forced him to face her. ‘You said you had two suggestions that might help solve my predicament. You have told me the first. What is the second?'

Francis glanced down at her small hand resting on his arm. Heat was seeping through his clothes, desire already tightening his loins—and
that
with just her hand. He didn't understand why she had such a volatile effect on him, but he understood that he wanted her. He wanted her in every way it was possible to want a woman—by his side, in his bed, warm and willing in his arms. And to accomplish that he was prepared to do the first irrational thing he had done since he had first laid eyes on her.

‘Very well. My concern for your safety goes beyond the handful of witch hunters. Atkins is at the White Hart, hoping to raise public fury to the point that a mob might be stirred up to seize you and hang you out of hand, thus resolving the problem of having a witch in their midst. As much as I would like to have him run out of Avery, he has done no wrong and Justice Littleton will not hear of it. Atkins's very presence threatens you, Jane. I would like to know you are safe.'

He stood before her, tall and powerful, his face aus
tere. Knowing he was right, Jane found no worthy retort to offer. ‘Then what can I do?'

Prey to a desire stronger than reason, he fixed her with burning eyes. ‘Since you won't leave Avery, I'd like to offer a solution to the problem. There is a way you can return to Bilborough where you can live out the rest of your life in safety.'

The dark eyes under the disturbingly intelligent forehead were suspicious. ‘But how? How can I do that?'

‘I am not usually a man of hasty decision when it concerns a lasting relationship, Jane, but I am asking you to marry me. Return to Bilborough as my wife.'

He was moving towards her as he spoke, drawn irresistibly by her beauty. Jane stared rigidly at him in disbelief, momentarily lost for words. He looked so cool and dispassionate, and completely self-assured. She wondered what had made him offer such a drastic solution to her problem and was not feeling particularly complimented by his offer.

‘I see!' she replied caustically, feeling more hurt and degraded than she cared to admit. If she married this man, then she would be mistress of Bilborough Hall, in her rightful place—and that was all she had ever wanted, but at what price to herself? Her ravaged pride rebelled at the thought.

Any self-respecting woman would have turned from the man who had stolen her home and reviled him for it. But that wasn't what she had done, Jane thought with bitter self-revulsion. No, indeed. With no preparation for an attractive man working on her emotions, she had used all her female powers of persuasion to get under his skin, and he had tried seducing her in turn. She had
been taken in by him, had liked being with him and had lowered her guard and allowed him to soften her with conversation and kind words—worse, encouraged it and even invited him to kiss her and touch her, enjoying the things he had done to her, when she should have been repelled at being handled by a man whose very name was associated with her downfall.

‘Coming from you, I find your proposal quite outrageous. You cannot be serious.'

‘I am perfectly serious. Why is it outrageous?'

She was amazed by his question, but determined to discuss the matter calmly and frankly. ‘Because I don't want to marry you.' Even as she issued that statement, it was beginning to ring a note of insincerity in her own mind.

Francis's eyes hardened. ‘Perhaps you should think about it before you make any hasty decisions.'

‘I don't need to think about it. You must have a poor opinion of me if you think I can be bought so cheaply. I won't marry you.'

Francis considered her a moment before he said, ‘Cheaply? Oh, no, Jane. For you, marriage to me would be advantageous indeed. Although, it could prove beneficial to us both.'

‘It could? How?'

‘Your life is in danger. You need protection and somewhere to live that is safe. I can defend you. Under my protection there isn't a man in Avery who would dare threaten you.'

‘Thank you for your concern,' she said tightly, ‘but I'd rather not inconvenience you. I can live without your protection.'

‘Come now, you cannot even leave the house without Isaac to accompany you. If you marry me, you will be able to live at Bilborough Hall. It will be your home.' He smiled. ‘You see, Jane, I'm not completely selfish.'

‘And you? How will marriage to me benefit you? What will you get out of it?'

Jane was so humiliated by his reference to her plight that it took a moment for what he said next to register.

‘I want a son.'

She was so surprised that she stared at him in disbelief. ‘A son?' she echoed. ‘You want
me
to give you a
son
?'

‘Marry me and give me a son, and in return Bilborough Hall will be your home again.'

J
ane continued to stare at him, finding it impossible to believe what he had asked of her, that he wanted a son. Perhaps beneath his cool and unemotional façade his life was as empty as hers was and he needed her. But then again, perhaps she was fooling herself. Her lips curved in a wry and bitter smile.

‘At least you're not asking me to marry you for my money.'

‘It would not be a fitting prelude to a marriage that is to be entered into for cold monetary reasons and no other, Jane. You do like children?'

‘Of course, and I long for children of my own.'

‘Then at least we have that in common. Apart from wanting a son, there are other reasons why I want to make you my wife.'

Jane's disconcerting dark brown eyes gazed into his. ‘I know you are a wealthy man, Francis, and in these uncertain times you cannot be asking me to marry you to gain social position and power.'

‘And if times were different and King Charles was still on the throne, would you marry for one of those reasons?'

‘No,' she replied. ‘I would not. I will marry because I love someone, and am loved in return. I will not settle for any other kind of marriage.'

The softly spoken words had been filled with such quiet conviction that Francis simply stared at her before he finally sighed. She looked so beautiful, so young, that the armour of cynicism that had surrounded him all of his adult life began to melt, leaving him feeling very much alone.

‘I think,' he said softly, ‘that it will be more a question of whether you will ever be safe. You see, you need me rather badly, although you don't yet realise it.'

‘I don't need anyone, and are you really as cold and heartless as your proposition makes you sound? You have asked me to be your wife as if you were discussing a common business arrangement—without feeling or emotion. I appreciate the sincerity of your proposal, but my answer is no, Francis, I cannot accept such an offer. I will not marry you.'

Francis's face hardened and he fell back a step. ‘I do not ask you to make up your mind this instant, Jane. Think on my offer carefully before you decide.'

‘I don't need to. I will never forget how tormented I have been ever since I became aware that my home had been taken from me and sold to you. You cannot imagine how I have craved revenge—and now you have the audacity to ask for my hand in marriage as if what you have done can be ignored.'

‘Jane,' he countered, his mien softer now. ‘My mother
was the daughter of a staunch Royalist, but my father did not hold it against her. I have friends who fought on the opposing side. They did their duty as they conceived it must be done. But I know well that they bear me no personal animosity. Things were strained, I admit that, but at the end of the day we are all Englishmen wanting naught but the best for our country.'

His words were words of reason, but Jane was not prepared to listen to such calming talk. ‘I hear what you say, but for myself I cannot feel the same.'

‘Why will you not listen?' Francis exclaimed angrily, combing his hair back from his forehead with his fingers in frustration. ‘Forget your opinion of me.'

‘I cannot,' she cried passionately. ‘How can you be so arrogant to believe that I would fall at your feet in gratitude after all you have done to me? Yes, I want to return to my home, but I will not tie myself for the rest of my life to the man who took it from me and has done nothing to ply me with a promise of love or devotion, a man who wants to make me his wife for no other reason than to give him a son. Please don't ask me again. You will be wasting your time.'

So saying, she turned on her heel and began walking quickly back to the house. It was a difficult moment for her. Knowing he was following her, she wanted to maintain an air of cool disdain, to walk away from him with calm defiance and her head held high, but her mauled pride and an aching distrust of the future assailed her senses. Momentarily blinded by a rush of tears, she stumbled on the hem of her gown. A supportive hand came to her aid. Long fingers grasped her elbow and held her firmly until she regained her balance.

Francis leaned forwards so his face was very close to hers. ‘Why do you run from me? I am not a patient man. When I see something I want I will use any means at my disposal to posses it. And I want you, Jane. I want to protect you. But then, you know that, don't you?'

Jane could not move. His whisper was hypnotic, he was luring her into a trap she could not foresee. ‘Don't. Please don't say these things.'

‘Why? Do I tempt you,' he asked softly, ‘as you tried to tempt me to get me to give you back your home? Can I not tempt you now with Bilborough?' He saw her eyes darken, as if with desire. ‘And pleasure,' he went on. ‘Can you not imagine the long dark nights of pleasure with me, Jane?'

Furious with herself that she should display such weakness, she raised her chin and found the brilliant blue eyes resting on her with something akin to compassion or pity. It was too much to bear.

‘Please remove your hand,' she said meekly.

Francis's hand slipped away and he stopped and watched her go, surprised and more than a little disappointed by her response. A proposal of marriage from a man as rich and as powerful as he was would surely have overwhelmed a young woman in such dire straits with surprise and delight. But that such an offer would be rejected so positively and spiritedly stunned him. He set off after her and, drawing level, took her arm and halted her, forcibly turning her round to face him.

His eyes were brittle. ‘Forgive me if I sounded
businesslike
, Jane, but my proposal was well meant. And, yes, I do want a son, but I am not entirely heartless. I would be equally as proud should the child be of the
opposite gender. Think about it. You could do far worse. After all, what have you to offer—apart from your own charming self?'

Angry tears of humiliation stung Jane's eyes. ‘What you say is true. I have nothing to offer any man—and for that I blame you.'

‘Jane.' His voice was flat, hard and biting. ‘Accept things as they are.'

‘Never,' she cried fiercely. ‘I will never accept it. I cannot.' In her anger and frustration she lashed out and struck his chest with her clenched fist.

‘Enough, Jane,' he bade sharply as he pulled her body towards him.

His embrace tightened and she lay against him, gasping for breath. His mouth swooped down upon hers, twisting, hurting, his tongue thrusting through her lips, searing, moving, possessing her. Jane struggled weakly against him, trying to summon some logic from the confusion in her mind, but unable to do so. Pleasure battled with her will. The crush of his lips on hers, his iron-thewed arms holding her pressed to his hard frame felt almost comforting, and she was answering, not fighting any more, growing warm.

As suddenly as Francis had clasped her to him he released her and she stumbled free of him. His eyes were puzzled as he stared at her for a moment, then filled with anger. He took her chin between his finger and thumb and forced her to meet his eyes.

‘Do you honestly believe you can hide your feelings behind your hostility like a child afraid of being a woman? Continue to fight me if you must, but arm yourself well, Jane, for nothing you may say or do will
see you safe from me.' Dropping his hand, he took a step back, but did not relinquish her gaze.

Jane tore her eyes away, hoping to hide the effect he truly had on her. Something had changed between them—or maybe something had changed inside her. Fear rose up within her, not of him, but of herself, for in spite of all the hostile words and accusations she had thrown at him, she wanted to draw him to her, to show him just how much she wanted him, how much of a woman she really was. She struggled to revive her will, but, failing miserably, whirled and ran from him, not pausing until she was back inside the house, hoping and praying he had not seen the naked desire that must have shone in her eyes. Warm confusion came from the haunting sense of pleasure that she felt on just being close to him, and at the thought a hot, searing excitement shot through her body. What spell had Francis cast on her that she should desire him so?

Francis watched her go in silence, his warrior instincts stirred by the depth of his passion for her, his desire to possess and protect her now stronger than ever. He would have gone after her and argued with her, but his short experience with Jane Lucas had taught him to recognise intractable stubbornness when he saw it. He would let her mull on his proposal for now, and once she had got over her repugnance at the idea of marrying a Roundhead, maybe the pull of living in her beloved Bilborough would make her change her mind.

 

In her anguish Jane could think of nothing but Francis's proposal. He wasn't just any man. To her he had become something else, something special, and he did things to her emotions and her body she did not
understand. Her confusion came from the haunting sense of pleasure that he gave her, that every time his visage appeared in her mind's eye her heart beat with a sweet wildness that stirred her very soul.

What spell had he cast upon her that she should desire him so, that if he were here now she would cling to him and beg him to give her that which she yearned? She had never felt so fully a woman as when she was with him, and she was amazed that no shame or guilt rose to condemn her for the kisses they had shared. Could she bear it if he were to disappear from her life completely?

Alarm rose inside her, as if something infinitely special, something elusive, was escaping her. If I never see him again, if I lose him now, I will wither and die, she thought wildly. Scalding tears pricked her eyelids so that everything around her grew hazy. Resolutely she fought them back. In a sharp moment of perception, she knew a loss so strong it seemed to squeeze the breath from her body.

It took her some moments before she could compose herself enough to realise that she should give his proposal some thought, for she could not go on like this.

 

Jane spent the following morning alone in the surrounding countryside with a basket on her arm. They had few medicines and salves in the cottage and with time on her hands she was collecting useful herbs to begin her own dispensary. Her search took her through a coppice of silver birches, their leaves shimmering in the summer air. The hedgerows and low stone walls were a treasure trove of useful plants: yellow stonecrop, which was helpful for staunching bleeding and to cure ulcers and sores, pink-flowered valerian, useful as a sedative
and to sooth the nerves, common sorrel, standing tall against the grass, the yellow-flowered fleabane, which, when dried and burned, gave off a vapour that drove off fleas and many more.

Gradually she worked her way back to the cottage, dropping to her knees occasionally to dig up roots with her little stick. Satisfied with her morning's pickings, she stood and stretched her aching back. As she did so she saw a young woman coming towards her from the direction of the cottage, the brim of her bonnet shielding her face from the sun's rays. A wide smile stretched Jane's lips when she recognised Hester Atkins and she hurried to meet her.

‘Hester! How wonderful!' she cried, embracing her warmly. ‘But what are you doing here? I never expected you.'

‘When I received your letter informing me of your loss of Bilborough, I was shocked and so worried about you that I had to come. Father is away so he could not stop me—besides, I thought you could probably do with a friend. A kindly woman at the Hall—Mrs Preston—told me where to find you.' She glanced at the basket on Jane's arm overflowing with greenery and smiled knowingly. ‘Still collecting your plants, I see.'

‘But of course, Hester. You should recognise most of them since you accompanied me on my expeditions when I lived with you in Northampton. It also gives me something to do. You must stay at the cottage with me. You can tell me all about Northampton and your sisters. I've missed all of you so much, Hester.'

Linking arms, they headed for home.

‘What will you do now, Jane? Of course you could always come back to live with us.'

‘No, Hester. I can't do that,' Jane answered quietly. Hester nodded, understanding more than anyone else Jane's reasons for not doing so. ‘Colonel Russell—the man who now owns the Bilborough estate—has asked me to marry him.'

Hester stopped walking and stared at her. ‘Good gracious! How fortunate. And? Will you?'

Her face expressionless, Jane nodded. ‘I have given it much thought since he asked me—and I think that I might very well become his wife.'

‘Why, Jane? To return to Bilborough? It will be like a dream come true.'

‘Yes—and also,' she murmured, giving vent to her feelings and knowing a soft flush was spreading over her cheeks, ‘because I—I believe I am falling in love with him. I have been trying to stop myself, but it's impossible.'

With happiness shining in her eyes for her dear friend, Hester hugged her fiercely. ‘But—that's wonderful, but—isn't it all rather sudden? I am astonished.'

‘Indeed I cannot believe it myself, and I have much to think about. The worst of it is that he fought against the King during the war—but,' Jane said, remembering the tender moments they had shared, ‘he is an honourable man, and if I thought it possible that he harbours some loving thoughts for me, that he could love me above all others, that he would take me in his arms and caress me as a lover would, that he would find me all he should ever want, then I think I would be a devoted and loving wife and put the past behind me.'

‘Then if he is an honourable man, and knowing you as I do, Colonel Russell will be unable to resist you. He is a lucky man.'

Jane smiled softly and squeezed Hester's arm affectionately. ‘Bless you, Hester.' They walked a little way in silence, broken when she spoke on a sombre note. ‘Your father is here in Avery. Did you know?'

Hester's face fell. ‘No, but I am not surprised. He will be disappointed that Bilborough no longer belongs to you.'