The Rebel (45 page)

“It is true. I don’t love Nicholas. I told
you that. I don’t think I ever shall.” Clara whispered. “And I am
not angry with you for any of it.”

“But I am angry with myself.” Jane answered.
“And it is not because of any regret over what Nicholas and I have
shared, but for the years that I have allowed you to hide within
your shell.”

She reached out and lifted Clara’s chin
until their tearful gazes locked. “Tell me how you feel. Help
me
, and let me help
you
. Clara it is time you pushed
aside this façade of indifference.”

“Sometimes I fear there is nothing inside of
that shell.” A choked cry escaped the younger sister’s throat and
she looked away. “It hurts too much to change.”

“Why? As I see it now, it is hurting you
more to stay the same.” Jane again drew her sister’s face around.
“You are so sad, Clara. And I am not talking about today. You have
been so sad for so long…and I cannot remember when it was that you
changed.”

“I know when it was that I changed.” The
words bubbled up inside of her. She had reached her limit, and
there was no stopping the long hidden truth. “My life changed
forever when I walked into that village nine years ago and saw my
sister keening over the corpse of her lover. I changed the day I
saw you curse everyone who was responsible for Conor’s death…even
though you didn’t know enough to curse me. I chose to keep a secret
and hide my own sin.”

Jane’s face was bloodless when Clara looked
up.

“It was my fault that Conor was arrested
that week. It was my failure to do what you asked me. If I had
delivered your message to him, he would not have come that morning.
He would not have been captured…or killed.” Clara sobbed
wretchedly. “I was too afraid of doing anything against Father’s
wishes even then, so I lied to you and said that I had delivered
your message. And then I saw what my lie did. It cost Conor his
life. And with it, I destroyed your very future.”

Clara buried her face in her hands and wept.
“I am so sorry, Jane. I never knew…never thought how horrible the
consequences could be. And for all these years…this thing has been
sitting in my heart…and…and then I was so ruthless to you
again…asking you to leave Nicholas when I really didn’t want to
marry him. I was so confused after Henry had proposed to me…before
I ran away and ruined everything again. I just…I am the most
hateful person…and you never see it. I have been ruined from the
inside, as if some horrible worm has eaten through my soul…leaving
me hollow. Yes, hollow…with only the shell for the world to see.
Instead of trying to help me, you should hate me.”

The mattress shifted. A moment later, Clara
felt Jane’s hands gather her tightly against her.

“I will
never
hate you. Do you hear
me? Never. You were a mere child when I made you to take that
message. Father had me locked away, but it was very wrong of me to
put that weight on you.” Her words were soothing. “And knowing
Conor, he would never have changed his plans, no matter what
message I sent or what danger awaited him. He was resolved for us
to go through this. His decision had been made.”

Jane gently caressed Clara’s hair as she
spoke. “You see…the fault was with me for getting you involved at
all…and with our father…and with this country…and also with Conor
and me for being so unprepared and so blind.” She brushed the
wetness from Clara’s cheek. “But one thing I have recently
learned…the time comes when we all must part with the past. No
matter who is to blame, I have finally decided to live what is left
of my life. It is time to give over the pain of what went wrong.
And Clara, you need to try to do the same. Life is too precious.
You
are too important to me. We must change the way things
are.” She placed a kiss on the younger sister’s brow.

“But for so long…I have just been the same
miserable pretender. I don’t know how to change.”

“Oh, yes you do.” Jane smiled gently. “And
with some intensive tutoring from me, you can still earn the title
of the second wicked Purefoy girl.”

Clara felt a sense of giddiness rising
inside of her. She hugged Jane fiercely and let the sadness ease
its way out of her body.

“Thank you. Thank you for always being there
for me. And thank you…for your offer of making me wicked.” She
pulled back and wiped the tears off her face. “I really need
it.”

“Very well.” Jane clutched her hand. “But
before we start our first lesson, what was it that you said about
Henry Adams proposing? I didn’t think it was my imagination that
there was something peculiar about you two.”

***

“What on earth did you tell her? She didn’t
look at me crossly once during the dinner. In fact, I should say
Clara seemed unusually cheerful this evening.”

No sooner had everyone retired for the night
than Nicholas had been at her door. He was been genuinely concerned
over what had happened this afternoon, and he and Jane hadn’t been
able to share a private word all night.

But simply talking had proven too difficult
for them both.

“Do you really expect me to reveal a
confidential conversation between two sisters?” she teased, rolling
Nicholas on his back and stretching her body on top of his. She
kissed his neck—tasted the hollow of his throat. “Do you know this
was the first time we made love in a real bed?”

“You are changing the subject.” His arms
wrapped around Jane, impeding her movements. “What did you tell
Clara about us, Jane?”

“I told her that I love you.”

The change in his face was stunning. The
intensity of his blue eyes scorched her. She realized that this was
the first time she had actually declared her own feelings.

“And did you speak them only for her
sake?”

She shook her head. “I love you,
Nicholas.”

Jane heard the short breath that escaped his
lungs. He gently cupped her face and pulled back.

“What else did you tell her?”

“I told her you love me, too.”

“What else?”

She shook her head in confusion. He rolled
them on the bed again until he was covering her.

“Didn’t you tell her that I have asked you
to be my wife?”

She hadn’t, but there was no need for an
answer as he seemed to read her silence.

“Jane, I know I am undeserving of you,
but…”

“It is the exact opposite…and you know it.”
She wrapped her arms around him and met his gaze. “I love you,
Nicholas, and I am willing to spend the rest of my life with
you—but not in marriage.”

“Why not?” His temper flared.

“I have said it before, but you don’t seem
to want to hear any of it.” She sighed. “There is scandal in my
past. I never wish taint your family name with—

“Bloody hell.” He pushed himself up, looming
over her. “To be sure, you are the most stubborn woman ever born.
Why can you not get it in your head that nothing of your past will
have the slightest effect on our marriage—or in the way people
treat you in the future?”

“And you are the most stubborn man,” she
retorted. “What is wrong with the two of us continuing on as we
are? I might even consider leaving Ireland and coming to live in
London. I could become your paramour…or concubine…or whatever it is
they call those woman these days. Mistress, that’s it.”

“I cannot believe you can offend me so
casually!” He lifted his weight off of hers and sat up. He ran a
weary hand through his long loose hair.

Jane touched his back, sat up, and placed a
kiss on his shoulder. “I was not trying to offend you. On the
contrary, I am being helpful.”

“Then don’t be,” he snapped, glaring at
her.

A pang of vulnerability pierced her heart.
Her face must have shown it, for he reached out gently and touched
her face.

“I love you, Jane. Do you understand? I love
you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you as husband and
wife.” His hand moved down and rested on her soft stomach. “Do you
realize, after what we’ve shared, you might already be carrying our
child?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “But whether we have our own,
or care for all the waifs who wander the streets without home or
family, would it not be wonderful to work together to make a
difference in the world?”

“I do.” She drew her knees against her chest
and set her shin on it. “But it is so complicated. I must do the
right thing for you…”

“But how about us?” he prodded, wrapping an
arm around her shoulder and pulling her against him. “Like it or
not, it is already us, Jane, and we can do the right thing
together.”

He kissed her again, and she felt all of his
passion and frustration in it. She could easily lose herself in the
warmth of his mouth, in the caress of his hands. But he pulled
away. Stretching her out on the bed, he pulled the bedclothes up
and tucked them around her body.

“You are not staying?”

He shook his head.

“You need time to think…to sort things out
in your mind. And I need time to cool my blood.” His fingers
twirled a strand of her hair. “I want you too much, Jane, and I am
afraid I might be scaring you with so much pressure.”

She opened her mouth in denial, but he
placed a finger on her lips. “Please…tonight…just think of us.”

Jane was pleasantly surprised when Mrs.
Hannagan announced Lady Stanmore’s arrival the next afternoon. She
was even more delighted by the warmth of the greeting she received
from Rebecca.

“I am so sorry that no one else is here this
afternoon but me.” Jane accompanied the other woman back to the
drawing room and where she had been brooding and sketching for most
of the afternoon. “Lady Spencer took my sister and Miss Frances out
to visit some friends, and I haven’t seen Sir Nicholas all
day.”

“Well, there is no need for an apology, for
I came over just to see you.” Rebecca glanced at the unfinished
sketch on the end table before taking a seat. “I see Nicholas is
not boasting about you without grounds. You are
very
good.”

Jane was embarrassed about leaving her work
out in the open. The exposed drawing was an attempt at capturing
Nicholas’s face, but no matter how many times she’d worked the
sketch, she still couldn’t take the expression of hurt out of his
eyes.

“I…I have had very little formal training,
and I fear it shows dreadfully.”

She took a seat next to Rebecca as Mrs.
Hannagan arrived, ushering a servant carrying a tray of tea and
biscuits into the room. While the tea was being poured, Jane
watched the two women chat pleasantly about the trials of new
motherhood. A moment later, the housekeeper and serving girl left
the two of them alone, closing the door on their way out.

“Do you know, this is the first time I’ve
been separated from Samuel since he was born?” Rebecca turned her
attention back to Jane. “Stanmore likes to tease me endlessly about
my attachment to our sons.”

“They seem like such happy boys.”

“That is true so long as they have my
undivided attention. Of course, there is no one to blame for that
but myself.” She smiled. “I suppose this is one of the trials of
late motherhood. You have more experience in life, but at the same
time you are less willing to take a chance.”

Jane sipped her tea. Nicholas had told her
that Rebecca was only three years older than Jane.

“But I am sure you are wondering what I am
doing here.”

“Perhaps a little. But whatever the reason,
I am glad for it.”

“I am too,” Rebecca answered heartily,
picking up her own cup. “It has been over a year since Stanmore and
I were married. But despite all of the socializing that goes with
my husband serving in Lords, there are very few women in London
whom I would consider good friends.”

She declined the offer of biscuits.

“Not that I have any great problem with
that. My life is so full, and—this may strike you as odd—my husband
and I have become best friends to each other. But still, when fate
directs me to someone special like you—someone caring and
intelligent and independent, someone who does not quite match
society’s expectations for women—I cannot help but want to pursue
that friendship.”

If those words had come from anyone else, if
they had been spoken in any other way than the way Rebecca said
them, Jane might have taken umbrage. As it was, though, she found
herself completely at ease with the mixture of frankness and
gentleness in the woman.

“You have a gift of making people feel quite
special.” Jane smiled. “Your happiness is enviable.”

“I must admit to you that I wasn’t always as
happy.” Rebecca took a sip of her tea and put the cup and saucer on
the table. “I did my best with James for the ten years we lived in
Philadelphia together, but there were as many hard times as there
were good times. For those ten years fears of my past, mixed with
the uncertainties of the future, always prayed on my mind.”

From the first moment they’d met, Jane had
realized there was much more to this woman than met the eye.

“And even when I returned to England,”
Rebecca started again. “And after Stanmore and I became…intimate…I
still had strong doubts of ever finding lasting happiness. You see…
Stanmore wanted permanency…marriage…stability, but I thought myself
unworthy of his attention…of his name.”

“But Nicholas told me you are a half-sister
to Lord North.”

“Neither Stanmore nor I knew that then, and
even if I did, it wouldn’t have made any difference to me.” She
glanced in the direction of the closed door before turning to Jane
again. “I had fled from London ten years earlier because I was
certain I’d killed a man—in defense of my virtue—but I had killed
all the same. But despite my refusal, Stanmore was not willing to
give up our future. He threatened to abandon his life in England
and return with me to the colonies. And since I refused to let him,
I was sure he would go to the king if he must, to secure a pardon
and have me stay.”