Her One True Love (24 page)

J
ane sat on the settee in Marksville's drawing room and bounced little Thomas on her knee as she watched the activity all around her. She smiled as Monica raised onto her toes to kiss her husband with more enthusiasm than would have been acceptable in polite society. The envy Jane had felt in the past when she admired Monica and Thomas's love had disappeared the moment she began to hope it would be possible for her and Matthew to one day be together. Compromise was the answer, and she could not wait to speak to him at the luncheon.

If his love for her was still as strong as it had been in Bath . . . if he was certain he no longer wished to be with Elizabeth, Jane would work out a way to split her time between beautiful Biddestone and bustling Bath.

“My turn. My turn!” Little Thomas reached his hands toward Monica, his stubby fingers opening and closing.

Jane laughed. “I think someone wants his kiss too.”

Monica turned, her cheeks flushed and her eyes momentarily hazy with a look Jane recognized as residual desire. A small frisson of anticipation rippled through Jane that maybe she and Matthew would have the opportunity to physically show their love to one another again soon.

“Then give him to me.” Monica's eyes misted with maternal love as she plucked little Thomas from Jane's lap. She noisily pressed a kiss to her son's cheek. “How was that?”

“Again, again!”

Everyone laughed as Thomas bounced up and down in his mother's arms. Jane exhaled a long breath and glanced at each happy face around the drawing room. Once upon a time, Marksville had been full of propriety, rules, and her mother's failing mentality. Today, the house's walls seemed to almost burst with life, hope, and love. She could not have prayed for a better change for Monica and her beautiful family.

“Why the somber face, sister?”

Thomas's question, as he came to sit beside her, broke Jane's thoughts, and she tilted her cheek to her beloved brother-in-law's kiss.

“I am far from somber. I was just considering the change in this house and how lovely it is. I wish it to stay like this, always.”

Thomas leaned back, an expression of satisfaction on his face. “I must admit, my obstinacy to see what Monica knew all along wasted me many months when all this happiness could have been mine years ago.” He seemed to drag his gaze from his wife in order to meet Jane's eyes. “Monica tells me the same obstinacy could've held you back from the same for you and the squire too.”

Jane's cheeks heated. “She has spoken to you about me and Matthew?”

“There's very little my wife can keep from me. You know that.”

“True. You certainly have a way of bringing every thought, action, and word out from my sister, whether she wants to share them with you or not.”

Thomas grinned. “If a man can't lead his wife down an exciting and risky path from time to time, love wouldn't hold half the appeal. Don't you agree?”

Jane laughed as anticipation of Matthew's imminent arrival looped inside her stomach. “Indeed I do.”

“Whose turn is it to open a present?” Monica put little Thomas down on the floor and smiled around the room. “Surely, it must be you, Jane?”

Jane stood from the settee and walked across the room to the beautifully decorated tree, kneeling next to little Thomas on the floor. She looked into the boy's excited eyes. “Why don't you pick one for me?”

He reached out his hands to the mound of presents and everyone laughed as it took several attempts for him to find one of Jane's. “Thank you, darling.” Jane took the small package from his eager hands and together they peeled back the paper. “Oh Monica.”

Tears gathered in Jane's eyes as she extracted the pearl and sapphire pendant from its box. “This was Mama's.”

Monica nodded. “I found it in one of the drawers in our bedroom. She would've wanted you to have it. It was her favorite, and you spent so much time with her.”

Nostalgia and memories of the times her mother had worn the pendant their father had given her long before Jane or Monica was born washed through Jane on a wave of love. “Thank you.” She stood and embraced Monica, closing her eyes. “I shall treasure it.”

After giving Monica a final squeeze, Jane opened her eyes. Matthew stood just inside the drawing room door, Elizabeth at his side. Jane's smile faltered and her heart kicked painfully.

Slowly, she drew back, her words sticking in her throat.

“Jane?” Monica frowned and held Jane's hand as she turned. “Oh, Matthew . . . Elizabeth . . . we didn't hear you come in. Please. Join us.”

Jane gripped Monica's hand, her body betraying her as it stiffened.

The sudden silence cast a heavy shadow over the room as Jane battled to say something—anything—to alleviate the awkwardness as it permeated every inch of her previous happiness.

Matthew came forward, his gaze intense on hers. Slowly, his study left her face to glide over her entire body, his jaw tight and his shoulders stiff. Jane stood stock-still for the entirety of his perusal and when his eyes met hers, her pulse quickened.

Undisguised hunger shone in the dark blue depths of his eyes.

Jane snapped her gaze to Elizabeth, who had yet to move from the doorway. She stared at her husband's back, her face pale and her body rigid.

“Elizabeth?” Jane forced her feet forward. “How are you? Please. Won't you come in?”

Amazed at the calmness of her tone, Jane approached Matthew's wife and prayed the tremor in her lips wasn't visible.

Elizabeth flicked her gaze from Jane to Matthew. When comprehension lit Elizabeth's gray eyes, Jane prayed for the floor to open up and swallow her whole. The squiress's face was a mask of careful control, but her surprise was clear. If Elizabeth had never guessed Jane's love for Matthew before, she had seen it now. It was as though the fact she and Matthew had been intimate was written in charcoal across their faces.

Like the elegant, capable squiress she'd always been, Elizabeth's face lit with a smile, her eyes shining kindly. “I do hope I'm not imposing by being here. Matthew assured me Monica and Thomas wouldn't mind. I understand you have been working with the needy in Bath, Jane?”

“I have.” Jane's chest tightened, her hands clammy. “With children. In a boardinghouse. I'm very happy there.”

Elizabeth's gaze flitted over Jane's shoulder toward Matthew. “Well, that's just wonderful.”

Chatter and laughter had reemerged in the room, and Jane turned to join everyone else, the swish of Elizabeth's skirt following behind her.

Thomas came forward and waved Elizabeth toward the settee. “Take a seat, Squiress. Would you like some tea?”

Jane risked a glance at Matthew. He watched his wife with an unreadable expression, and Jane's nerves tightened further. What had possessed him to bring her here? Did he have no regard for either his wife's or his lover's feelings?

Briefly closing her eyes, Jane silently admonished herself.

Why wouldn't he be with Elizabeth on Christmas Day? They were not yet divorced. This was the way of things. Appearances were kept and feelings ignored.

At a touch at her elbow, Jane flinched. She met Monica's furious gaze, her mouth drawn into a tight smile. “Shall we see how Mrs. Seton is coming along with the luncheon?”

Eternal gratitude slipped into Jane's blood, and she swallowed against the dryness in her throat. “Yes, let's.”

Without looking at Matthew or anyone else in the room, Jane walked with Monica to the door. The moment they stepped into the hallway, Monica closed the door firmly behind them. Jane's body turned soft as a sob of humiliation caught like the point of a needle in her throat. “How could he bring her here after everything we have shared?”

“Shh. Lower your voice.” Two spots of color darkened Monica's cheeks. “I am equally as annoyed as you. You must speak with him alone as soon as possible.”

“How can I?” Jane shook her head, her humiliation turning to anger. “How will it be possible to be alone with him now? Elizabeth knows. I saw it in her eyes.”

“And what of it?” Monica grasped Jane's elbow and moved her away from the door. “She's the one who betrayed Matthew in the first instance. Do not forget that. You shared your body and soul with a man you love. Nothing more, nothing less. Do not regret that. No matter what happens. You love him.”

“No matter what happens? He dares to look at me like a lover looks at their heart's desire with his wife standing right behind him. Why would he do that?”

“Because he was clearly desperate to see you on Christmas Day. That is what you must believe until you know differently. Now, come.”

“What about the luncheon? How will I endure it?” Tears burned. “How will I endure any of this? I need to go back to Bath. Back to the children.”

Monica tightened her grip on Jane's elbow, her eyes blazing with determination. “And you will . . . once you have spoken to Matthew.”

Jane's stomach burned with the fire that had scorched and seared her away from Marksville weeks before. She did not want this house, or this life any longer. Monica was right. She had nothing to be ashamed of. It was Matthew who should be ashamed in this moment, not her.

She pulled back her shoulders and met her sister's fiery gaze. “I will get through the luncheon and then Matthew will speak to me, Elizabeth or no Elizabeth. There are things I have to say to him. Things he must listen to, no matter what.”

Monica smiled, her gaze glinting with pride. “At last. We are in charge of our own destinies, Jane. The sooner the men in our lives understand that, the better.”

Jane threw a final look toward the closed drawing room door, took a deep breath, and, arm in arm, she and Monica strode toward the kitchen.

 

As Mrs. Seton cleared the table and the new nanny took little Thomas from the dining room for his nap, Jane caught Matthew's eye. He winked at her, his eyes glinting with a self-assurance she could neither understand nor appreciate. It took all of her strength not to release the ever-increasing need to scream out loud. Humiliation hummed dangerously beneath the surface of her skin and she lowered her gaze to her plate. Had he no care for her feelings? No consideration of what it did to her to see him sitting side by side with Elizabeth?

At last, the meal had drawn to a close, but she and Matthew had not had the opportunity to talk alone. Her impatience must be palpable to everyone. Jane looked at the table, her heart thundering as her mind battled with the words she wished to say to him . . . and the physical yearning to kiss and touch him, despite the hurt clawing at her heart.

She could not weaken.

They had managed a brief, whispered exchange as they took their seats at the dining table over two hours before. She'd asked him to meet her in the study on her signal. During their conversation, his gaze had caressed her body from head to toe, lingering at her bosom and bringing her traitorous body alive with desire. It had been three weeks since she'd seen, spoken to, or touched him. She'd felt his absence deeply, but never as deeply now that she sat with barely a few feet separating them.

She itched to initiate the signal of rising from the table to see what she could do to help Mrs. Seton.

“So, Jane . . .” Elizabeth smiled. “You have spoken so little about your work in the city. I would love to learn more.”

Jane forced her gaze to Elizabeth's. She sat straight-backed and poised next to Matthew.

Jane cleared her throat. “There is not much to tell, past my enduring wish to do everything I can at the boardinghouse come the New Year. I secured a place a few weeks ago but have not been allowed to work the hours I would like as yet. The Board wanted the children to have time to get to know Jeannie and me first.”

“Jeannie is to work there too? She is leaving Marksville also?”

Jane nodded.

“I see. Well, that is quite the turnaround since I was last here.” Elizabeth laughed. “So many other things have changed in my absence too. It really is quite remarkable.”

The atmosphere cooled as the iciness of Elizabeth's insinuation permeated the room.

Jane glanced at Thomas and Monica, who tried and failed not to express their interest by talking quietly to one another at the opposite end of the table, their lowered gazes snatching almost comically around the gathered company.

Meeting Elizabeth's steady gaze once more, Jane pulled back her shoulders. “Indeed they have. Matthew has been most kind to respect my passion to work. In fact, his involvement was instrumental to my success.”

Elizabeth's cheeks darkened as she turned to Matthew. “And what did you do to illustrate your respect for Jane's passion, husband?”

Jane swallowed as embarrassment threatened. Anyone would have to be impervious to the implication toward Jane's passion not to understand the clear double-edge to Elizabeth's question . . . not to mention the exaggerated emphasis on the word
husband
.

Matthew picked up his water and drank before slowly returning his glass to the table. Ignoring Elizabeth, he looked to Jane, his gaze dark with determination and his jaw tight. “I spoke to the Board and signed as guarantor for both Jane and Jeannie. It was the least I could do when the city is crying out for good-hearted, loyal, and hardworking women willing to do all they can to care for these unfortunate children.”

“I see.” Elizabeth drew her napkin from her lap and put it on the table, her knuckles showing white as she gripped it. “And presumably you will be leaving Marksville as soon as possible after Christmas, Jane?”