My Dearest Friend (Books We Love Regency Romance) (25 page)

Chapter
Sixteen

An uneasy truce existed between them, both treating the other with an awful civility. As Lady Bannington had predicted, invitations for the duchess flooded into Blake House, but she graciously declined each one and it became a matter of rivalry amongst the hostesses as to who would be the first to secure her company at an event of their arranging. The duke broached the subject one morning on a rare occasion when they breakfasted together, Jane usually remaining in her apartment until she was sure he had gone out. After the pleasantries had been exhausted, he surprised her by saying solicitously, “Why do you refuse all invitations, Jane? You should not lock yourself away within these walls; you will be overcome with ennui. Would it not be better to find some amusement to occupy your time and divert your thoughts?”

As he received no reply, he continued to press the point. “You remain pale. You have never recovered from Regina’s party and I see
a sadness ever present in your eyes. I am aware that the situation between us is less than ideal, but I had thought us to have at least come to an acceptable compromise.”

“I do not wish for society,” she replied quietly, pushing her chair a little way from the table as if preparing to rise.

“Stay and talk to me a little,” he pleaded. “Surely you cannot have such an aversion for me that we are unable to communicate?” and he stretched his hand, palm upwards, across the table.

Her immediate impulse was to place her hand in his, but knowing the fragility of her resolve, she dared not. Instead she carefully folded her napkin and placed it at the side of her plate.

“If truth be told I am still a little fatigued, Robert,” she said, not daring to meet his eyes for fear of what she might see there.

“
Depressed more like,” he replied, standing and rounding the table. He would have taken hold of her shoulders to make her face him but she shrugged his hands away.

“
I am not depressed,” she lied, attempting a wan smile. “There is no need for your solicitude. I fare very well.”

“
I have been thinking,” he continued cajolingly, unwilling to let the matter rest. “Would you like me to send for Sophie, our little girl? She always has the power to lighten your mood.”

“No!” she cried, and jumping from her seat ran from the room. Her emotions already heightened by her condition, how
could she explain to him that thoughts of Sophie only served to intensify her yearnings for the babe she carried and her desire to share them with her husband.

He would have gone after her but in that instant Deakin arrived seeking his attention and the moment was lost, but he promised himself that he would take the matter further. He would build bridges. This continued situation could not be tolerated, but for the moment, he must content himself that at least she remained under his roof. He could not bear the thought that at some point she would leave his protection. He needed to be assured of her whereabouts, always. Even if she hated him, as she had avowed, he knew that his love for her was unaltered, the mere sight or sound of her evoking all his feelings as for the first time. Darrows with all his lies and accusations be damned to hell.

***

Later that afternoon Jane was informed that Lady Bannington had called and was awaiting her in the drawing room to where she repaired immediately.

“
Your Ladyship,” she said, smiling as she entering the room. “It is so very good of you to call.”

“Nonsense, my dear, it is not very good of me at all,” said her ladyship, smiling in return. “I wished to further our acquaintance and what better way than an afternoon visit, and by-the-bye call me Regina as Robert does, one does not stand on ceremony with one’s relatives. I have come with an invitation that I am sure will appeal. Now do be a good girl and sit down, I will get a crick in my neck if I am forever obliged to look up at you.”

Smiling at her ladyship’s blunt way, Jane did as she was bid, taking the chair on the opposite side of the hearth. She felt at home with the dowager, being in no way disconcerted by her manner and waited expectantly for her to recommence.

“I have called to invite you to afternoon tea on the morrow. I know it is seen that you don’t pay visits, but I believe we will do famously. What could be more enjoyable than an afternoon coze? We managed quite creditably the other evening and I would wish to know you better. It will just be
ourselves, no others to intrude. Do you think that would suit?”

“
I believe it would,” replied Jane, smiling. “I have no desire to be about in society at this point in time, but would certainly welcome a change of scene. I know that Robert has need to return to Stovely sometime over the next few days to settle some aspect of the estate, but whether it will be tomorrow or the next day I know not.”

Regina chuckled.
“Oh, he will not be included in our numbers. He thinks himself far above such things as a feminine tête-à-tête, too much self-confidence for such frivolity. Besides, I would have you to myself without him forever in attendance. Let him go to Stovely, we can enjoy a comfortable afternoon. How long does he stay away?”

“I think not above three or four days, he says the business will not take long.”

The dowager smiled knowingly. “More like he does not wish to be absent from his young wife for long! Now I will leave you, I have promised Lucinda Bracken that I will call and the day wears on. My coach will collect you at four on the morrow.” With this, she made her regal departure leaving Jane with the thought that such a visit could prove quite pleasing and could indeed divert her thoughts for a while.

In the few days since she had found out about the babe Jane had become more and more certain that it would be disastrous to tell her husband, believing him so convinced of a relationship between herself and Darrows that he would assume the baby to be Darrows
’. Having seen to what lengths his anger and jealousy could drive him the thought terrified her. Yet how long could she keep the secret? Within a few short weeks it would become only too apparent that she was with child, a fact that at any other time would make her, indeed both of them, deliriously happy. She could trace the babe’s conception to the evening before her husband had fought with Darrows at Stovely and longed for that closeness again, for that had been the last time her husband’s love had belonged to her. Now what of his devotion? There had been occasions over the past few weeks when she had thought that they had a chance of coming about, that given time, some semblance of normality could exist, but now it was too late. She wrapped her arms about her middle and rocked, as would a child, she loved this babe already, but knew not where its coming would lead.

***

Later that evening, a footman arrived at Jane’s apartments with a request from the duke that she should join him in the small salon. After a moment’s hesitation, she put aside the journal she had been reading and, mentally preparing herself, made her way to the pleasant room at the rear of the house. Upon entering the salon, she was surprised to see that the table had been set for dinner in this cozier atmosphere. Her husband stood with wine glass in hand and arm resting on the mantle, but at her entrance he straightened and put aside the glass.

“As you can see, I have ordered the covers to be set in here tonight, my dear,” he said, and
, smiling, came forward to lead her to the table. Holding her chair for her himself, he helped her to be seated. “It is an age since we dined thus and I thought we would forgo the grandeur of the dining room on this occasion in favor of a less formal atmosphere. It was always the way at Stovely and much more to my liking.” Taking a seat on the opposite side of the table, he indicated that the meal should be served and kept up a stream of polite, noncommittal, conversation, ignoring the fact that his wife devoted all her attention to the dishes before her, toying with them and eating very little.

Jane
’s thoughts were in turmoil and she wondered what new stratagem was this, and promised herself that she would not be lulled into a false sense of security. She must be on her guard.

Once the meal was over, the duke ordered the covers to be removed and the servants to leave. He and Jane remained seated at the small table, both silent. The only movement being his fingers as they clasped and unclasped about the stem of his wineglass, the only sound that of the ticking clock on the mantle. His eyes never wavered from his wife’s face, but Jane dared not meet his intense gaze and found it necessary to keep her eyes lowered.

“You say nothing,” he said eventually, hoping to evoke a response.

“
I have nothing to say,” she replied quietly.

“Then that is not like you, my love. It is rarely known for your tongue to be still, a fact in which I usually rejoice,” he teased gently, much in his old manner.

At any other time this would have had the power to make her smile or to evoke some repartee but instead she gave him only a fleeting look before returning to her contemplation of the table.

“
Will you not talk to me, my love?” he pleaded. “Let not this distance exist between us.” He captured her hand as it rested on the table, tightening his grip as she would have drawn it away and coming to stand before her still retaining her icy fingers in his warm clasp. He would have raised her up, but she shrank away averting her face and lifted her free hand in a supplicating gesture. He released her immediately having no desire to seem to pressure her in any way. All manner of torments raged in his breast and he strode to the window and back again. Halting a few strides away he opened his arms and in a voice which held a longing that cut through her being, called “Jane—come.”

She sat unable to move, the almost physical longing to respond to his plea tearing into her.

“Have I given you such a hatred of me?” he cried, his arms falling back to his sides, his countenance ravaged by emotion.

“I do not hate you, Robert,” she cried and she rose in an attempt to leave, but bridging the gap he involuntarily gathered her to him, holding her captive with a force he did not recognize.

“If you do not hate me, why will you not come to me?” he asked fiercely, unable to contain his anguish.

“Too much stands between us,” she sobbed.

“Whatever stands between us can surely be overcome?”

“There are aspects of which you are not aware,” she persisted.

“Then tell me them now,” he said, attempting at calm and releasing her. “See, my love, I am willing to listen, just do not shut me out. Surely there is nothing so terrible that we cannot overcome it? I am prepared for the worst, so speak.”

“
I cannot,” she cried and flinging wide the door she ran to her apartment convinced that her heart was broken.

***

The duke left for Stovely at first light, he could not risk a further encounter with his wife knowing that the temptation to try to coerce her into telling her secret would be too great and petrified of what that secret could be. He would seek the calm of Stovely and its healing balm.

***

The dowager’s coach arrived promptly at four to take Jane to her afternoon appointment. If she had but dared, she would have made her excuses but she knew she must attend as arranged, her ladyship would not be so readily side tracked.

A short while later, she sat in the dowager’s elegant drawing room.
“You seem very subdued, my dear,” Regina said solicitously, as she handed her a cup of tea from the tray at her side.

“
Forgive me, Regina,” she replied smiling with some effort. “I would not wish to seem uncivil. It is unforgivable of me.”

“
Nonsense, child, it is your condition,” replied the dowager, watching from beneath lowered brows to see what affect her words would have on her visitor.

Sitting bolt upright and almost spilling her tea, Jane asked,
“How did you know?  Is it that obvious?”

Her ladyship chuckled, pleased that she had guessed rightly.
“Not at all, my dear,” she said, “but I have an unfailing understanding of these things. Now tell me, what thinks Robert that his young bride should present him with an heir so promptly? If I know ought, he will be monstrous pleased to be setting up his nursery so soon.”

Jane hesitated, what could she say, the dowager was much too astute to try to hoodwink, yet how could she explain the situation? The thought crossing her mind that if she had been able to guess about the babe so would others. Seeing a shadow cross her young guest’s countenance the dowager continued to press her point. “He does know, does
he not?” she asked quizzically.

“No,” replied Jane placing her cup on the table and twisting her fingers nervously in her lap.

“You keep it from him?”

“I cannot tell him. Please do not press the point, the situation is very difficult, but I do assure you there are reasons.”

“The child is his?” asked the dowager in some amazement, scarcely disbelieving but by her companion’s reactions, the question must be raised.