Her One True Love (15 page)

He would no sooner be unfaithful to Elizabeth than he would anyone else.

She turned and stared at his hardened profile, before slumping her shoulders. “I'm scared, Matthew. Scared of what could happen to us if we pursue this. I want to be happy, and I'm not sure Biddestone is the place for that to happen anymore. The village is your home, your life, and I would no sooner ask you to forsake it than I would forsake what I feel compelled to do in Bath.”

The rage in his eyes cooled to agitation. “I had already written to Flanders before we . . . before I, kissed you. My marriage was over before it even began. I realize that now. Our relationship, Elizabeth's and mine, was based on duty. For both of us. Our marriage was doomed from the outset.”

“That doesn't change the fact your marriage ended because of Elizabeth's actions.” She took a sip of her wine. “The decision was forced upon you, rather than you proactively seeking it. I came to the city to forge a new life. A life worth more than keeping a house. I still want that . . . and that makes me wonder if I am the woman you need beside you.”

His gaze hardened. “I had a wife who stood next to me, looking pretty and nodding at all the right times. I had someone who agreed with my views and supported me in public. I don't want that. Not anymore. I want you. Someone with fire in her belly and ambition in her blood. I want a woman who cares, who loves.” He tightened his jaw. “More than anything, I want a wife who will forge a path for herself and others, if it means she and they are happy.”

Jane stared at his handsome face and looked deep into his blue eyes, then higher to roam her study over his dark, glossy hair and strong brow. She had loved this man for as long as she could remember. She glanced toward the archway as Jeannie, Adam, and Laura came closer.

She faced Matthew and forced a smile in order that her friends might not suspect the heat of her and Matthew's exchange. “You must return to Biddestone and the village affairs. If we are to be together, fate will make it happen. For now, though, my place is in Bath.” Despite everything, Jane prayed he would love her more for her resolve rather than reject her for it. “I have to protect what I can feel changing inside me. I have to find my place in life and, at this moment, I believe it is in Bath. I cannot leave without pursuing the conviction that I am meant to help children in desperate need.”

He stared for a long moment before he gave a curt nod, his eyes unreadable. “Then let us get you a position at the boardinghouse. Once that is done, I will return to the village and speak with Elizabeth.”

Adam, Laura, and Jeannie took their seats at the table and smiled, their eyes filled with mixed curiosity and concern.

Jane smiled. “The waiter has yet to reappear, so you can choose what you'd like to eat after all.”

They nodded and opened their menus, the tension palpable.

Jane glanced at Matthew. He had turned to look around the dining room, his jaw set, and the smile she loved so much nowhere to be seen. Once again.

T
he next day, Jane stood outside the boardinghouse overseen by Mrs. Cage and lifted the knocker screwed to the peeling front door. She glanced over her shoulder, nerves twisting and turning in her stomach. If Mr. Howard, or another member of the Board, caught her there, it could well be the proverbial nail in the coffin, sealing off any chance of her success in securing a position at the house. Yet she had awoken that morning determined to do
something
to aid her chances. Matthew had insisted on staying in Bath until tomorrow, at least, only leaving once he knew of the Board's decision. No matter what Jane said to deter him, he would not return home.

His obstinacy had only fueled her desire for independence. To prove she could achieve her goals alone.

How would she earn his total respect, or make him understand the woman she wanted to become, if she encouraged him to behave as if he were her beau? He wasn't her beau . . . he was Elizabeth's husband. A fact Jane had spent months endeavoring to accept when they were married.

She lifted her hand and knocked on the door a second time, her frayed nerves and tormenting thoughts hitching her impatience.

The door flew open on its hinges.

“You again.” Mrs. Cage ferociously dried her hands on a scrap of toweling. “What do you want this time? Didn't I make myself clear enough when you was 'ere before?”

Jane lifted her chin and held the older woman's steely gaze. “You did, but I have the strength of person to not give up on something I believe is right.”

Mrs. Cage huffed out a laugh, revealing several gaps in her stained teeth. “Is that so? And what is it a fancy, upper class lady such as yourself can be wanting from me, eh? Want ta lie down on one of me straw mattresses? A cup o' day-old tea and a stale bun?”

“I wish to come in and talk to you. I have a proposal that could benefit us both. I believe it is in your interest, as well as mine, that you listen to what I have to say.”

Mrs. Cage's eyes narrowed as she drew her gaze over Jane's face and body. Jane held herself perfectly still. Inside, her heart raced and her hands were clammy about her purse, but nothing would sway her from her determination to secure Mrs. Cage as an ally.

The older woman gave an inelegant sniff. “Fine. I'll listen to you . . . and you can pay me a few shillings for me time.”

Jane lifted her eyebrow. “I won't be parting with a penny until I have what I came for.”

Mrs. Cage glared. “Which is?”

Jane nodded toward the house. “Shall we go inside so I can tell you?”

The other woman cast another slow study over Jane from head to toe before stepping back and slowly pushing open the door. “In you come, then.”

Satisfaction and further courage slipped like a warm blanket over Jane's shoulders. “Thank you.”

She stepped into the house, and the unexpected quiet swept over Jane once more. Unease wiped her smile and raised the hairs at her nape. The silence was eerie in a place where children should be playing. The hush rippled through her, serving to escalate her passion to work there even higher.

“Go through to the kitchen. The baby's asleep in the other room.”

Mrs. Cage's deep and husky tone pushed Jane toward the open kitchen door at the end of the dark, narrow hallway. When she stepped over the threshold, she was pleasantly surprised by its cleanliness and order. It then struck her that of every room she'd seen in the house, none appeared as unkempt as the children themselves.

Annoyance simmered deep inside as Jane slowly placed her purse on the scuffed wooden table in the center of the room. Did Mrs. Cage hold more care to housework than the care of the children in her charge? “Where are the other children?”

Mrs. Cage narrowed her eyes. “Upstairs. Not that it should be any of your concern. Now, why don't you tell me why you keep bothering me and then leave. I ain't got no need for your kind in my house.”

“My kind?” Jane drew out a wooden chair from the table and sat. “And what would my kind be, exactly?”

“Make yourself comfortable, why don't you?” Another sniff. “The kind of woman who thinks she can come in here and sit at my kitchen table without invite, that's who.”

Their gazes locked. Jane strained her ears for a whimper, a giggle, anything to tell her there were children upstairs, or indeed, a babe in one of the rooms downstairs.

Nothing came.

For all she knew, Mrs. Cage could be lying when she claimed there were children in the house at that moment. Jane studied her. She could be one of the women she'd heard of who took money from the Board and then put the children out on the street from dawn to dusk, only allowing them to return to sleep.

Inhaling a deep breath, Jane decided a different tactic other than an authoritarian one might be necessary. She relaxed her shoulders and smiled. “Mrs. Cage, why don't I start again? The last thing I want is for us to get off on the wrong foot.”

Mrs. Cage sneered. “You should've thought about that before you came back here. I already made it pretty clear you needed to sling your hook. Now, enough of your smiling. Tell me what you want.”

Jane immediately wiped her smile and stared. “I want to work here. With you and the children.”

Mrs. Cage crossed her arms, hefting her ample bosom upward. “Why?”

“Because I feel compelled to do so. Especially here. I love children, Mrs. Cage. Have wanted children of my own for as long as I can—”

“Why haven't you then?” The older woman cast a disdainful look. “Must be easy enough for someone of your entitlement to grab a handsome man or two. If it's children you want, I don't know a man on the planet who wouldn't lie with a woman desperate enough to give it out for what she wants.”

The crudeness of the insinuation twisted Jane's stomach, but she would not be deterred. “That might be so, but I am not inclined to leap into a bed with a man just for want of a baby. From what I have seen and heard, there are plenty of babes needing love and care without adding more with a father who doesn't want them.”

A flash of what could've been surprise or admiration passed through Mrs. Cage's eyes before she dropped her arms and walked around the table. “I see, and you think the right place for you is here, at my house.”

“I do. You have children who need caring for, do you not?”

“Are you saying I ain't caring for 'em enough already?”

“How do I know without seeing them? A friend of mine gave me this address and told me to at least ask you if I could help.”

“What friend?”

“Her name is Laura Lacey.”

Mrs. Cage's eyes darkened with suspicion. “I don't know any Laura Lacey.”

“Do you know a Laura Robinson? That was her name before she married.”

Mrs. Cage's eyes immediately lit with recognition and a slight smile lifted her mouth, making her look almost approachable. “Laura sent you here?”

“Yes.”

“How do I know that for a fact?”

Jane lifted her shoulders. “What reason do I have to lie? And how would I know to use Laura's name if what I'm saying wasn't true?”

Mrs. Cage studied her a moment longer before she paced a few steps away from the table, abruptly turning and crossing her arms once more. “How's she getting on then?”

Jane smiled, pleased at the marginal softening of Mrs. Cage's eyes and tone. “Very well. She's a mother herself now. Two little girls and married to Adam Lacey.”

Mrs. Cage's eyes widened to almost comical proportions. “The actor?” She gave a low whistle. “The girl did good.”

Jane laughed. “She most certainly did.”

Silence fell as Mrs. Cage shook her head and gazed into the distance as though imagining a life like Laura's for herself. She blinked and when she faced Jane, suspicion burned in her gray eyes once more. “Whether Laura sent you here or not, it don't change the fact you think I ain't running things right.”

Jane shook her head. “That's not what I am saying at all. I am merely offering my help, just as I did the last time I was here. As you instantly refused my proposition, I went to the Board of Guardians and a Mr. Howard—”

“You went to the Board?” Mrs. Cage's voice hitched in volume. “What in God's name did you go and do that for?”

“Because—”

“Because you ain't got a flaming clue, that's why.” Mrs. Cage slapped her hands on the table, her eyes bulging with anger. “They'll be around here asking questions, sticking their noses in where they ain't needed nor wanted. Who the bloody hell do you think you are?”

Fear battled with tenacity, and Jane pushed to her feet, mirroring Mrs. Cage's stance. “I think I'm a woman who can help you, that's who. I have grit and determination, love and care to give to more children than you can count on your fingers and toes. More than that, I have money I am willing to spend if it means helping those children. However, that money will not be spent where the benefactor is too stubborn, or scared, to speak up to the authorities on my behalf and get me a position in her house. If that person is you, Mrs. Cage, just say the word, and I will try the next house on what is undoubtedly an endless list.”

Their glares locked and time stood still.

Jane's pulse resounded in her ears and her heart raced.

Slowly, the older woman pushed away from the table. Second by second, her posture changed and her eyes grew bright with clear understanding. . . and with the more obvious contemplation of the possibility of money exchanging hands.

Jane waited.

She might have money, but there was little chance of Mrs. Cage seeing a penny of it without Jane's consent. She was pretty certain Mrs. Cage understood that well enough.

“You kids get upstairs where you belong,” Mrs. Cage suddenly shouted, her gaze still on Jane's. “Don't think I can't hear your ears wagging on those stairs.”

Jane stiffened before hearing a thundering of scurrying feet running up the stairs and into the room above her. The muffled sound of muted giggles made her heart skip with joy, but she kept her face impassive.

“So . . .” Mrs. Cage smiled. “What is it you want me to say to Mr. Howard exactly?”

Jane returned her smile. “Let's make a cup of tea and discuss it, shall we?”

A chilled wind blew through the trees as Matthew walked through Royal Victoria Park the following day. He pulled up the collar of his overcoat. It wasn't entirely the temperature causing him to feel the cold so astutely, but the prospect that whatever Jane had to say to him this morning could sever any chance of her considering him in the future. She had left a message for him at the hotel yesterday afternoon. The moment he'd recognized Jane's elegant hand, his heart had instinctively sunk with dread.

They'd had no contact since he bid her good-bye at her house after the meal with Jeannie and the Laceys. The atmosphere between the five of them while at the restaurant had remained strained for the following painful hour and a half. Between Jane's adamancy that he return to the village and speak with Elizabeth, to Adam's careful and warning looks, Matthew had left the restaurant under a storm cloud.

Amid every polite and distant syllable in Jane's note, it had been clear her determination that nothing occur between them whilst Elizabeth remained his wife was as strong as ever. God only knew how long it would take for a divorce to come to fruition.

Matthew scowled. He was a man, was he not? He wanted Jane. Hell, he wanted her now, not in six or twelve months.

She'd asked that he meet her the next day at the park's gates at eleven.

And here he waited like the obedient sap he'd seemingly become.

He stared around him, looking for a distant trace of the woman he would recognize anywhere just by her elegant gait or the determined lift of her chin.

As if on cue, Jane rounded an oak tree at the park's edge. She was alone.

Satisfaction at the prospect of having some unchaperoned time with her stirred in Matthew's stomach, only to battle with protectiveness. She might have been exposed to any kind of danger walking across town alone. Yet the moment her gaze met his, nothing but desire burned through him.

She was beautiful, kind, capable, and courageous . . . and he wanted her for his own.

If his suspicions were right, Jane was more bothered by his insistence he stay in the city until the Board made their decision than she'd led him to believe. The look of determination in her eyes, and the set of her mouth as he walked toward her, left Matthew no doubt his trepidations about her forthcoming dismissal of him were founded in truth.