The Duke's Bride (17 page)

Jared slapped a hand against his thigh. “What if
something has happened to her? Would you want to know?”

Panic raced through Roderick’s blood. He sat up on his
elbows, fighting against the pain. “Is she hurt? Tell me!”

Jared shook his head. “No, she is not hurt.”

“Ill?”

“No, she is not ill.”

Heat almost suffocated Roderick. But he had to know
about Jane. “Then, what the blazes is wrong with her?”

“It is not my story to tell.”

Roderick turned and retched into the pail beside his bed.

Jared hurried across the room, cursing to himself.
“You’re as hot as Hades.”

Roderick looked up and gave him a sick smile. “That is
rather hot, I would say.”

Jared growled, concern growing in his dark brown eyes.
“I shall fetch the doctor.”

Roderick closed his eyes. He knew it was not good. But
it did not matter. As long as Jane was safe. But what was Jared trying to tell
him?

“Roderick, are you still with me?” Jared’s troubled
voice drifted to his ears.

Roderick wanted to smile, but the pain was floating
away from his body, only to be replaced by a strange numbness. He was thinking
it felt rather nice. Was he dying? Perhaps, heaven was not so bad after all.
But what about Jane?
Jane.
The thought of her made him fight. No, he
needed to see her again. Tell her he was sorry! Tell her he loved her! He had
been too stubborn. Too tyrannical. His pride was hurt, and he had hurt her.
Jane,
forgive me!

The sweet blackness was closing in on him just as another
thought bombarded his mind. Perhaps, he was not going to heaven at all.
Perhaps, he had not lived his life the way he should have. Perhaps, he would
leave Jane forever.

He thought he heard someone scream.

Oh, God, don’t let me die yet. Let me see her one
more time.

“Jane,” he whispered, barely recalling a pair of beautiful
blue eyes before he sank into total blackness.

A
nother six weeks had passed at Hemmingly Hall,
and there had been no word from Roderick. Jane could not bear it anymore. She
walked downstairs and heard Emily and Agatha playing with the children in the
drawing room.

Jane frowned. The thought of laughter and games when
her entire life seemed upside down was too much. Agatha had returned from
London that morning. In fact, the older lady had been gone almost the entire
time Jane and Emily had been staying at Hemmingly. There was no doubt that
Agatha had been working at Whitehall. Had she news of Roderick? No, she would
have told her already. Surely, the lady would know if he was dead. No news was
probably good news.

Oh, Roderick,
Jane thought sadly.
What
have we done to each other?

Heartbroken, Jane spun around and strode back up
stairs, clasping a hand to her stomach, feeling a sudden twinge. It was
nothing, she thought, only the pain of missing Roderick.

With a sob, she entered her bedchamber and grabbed
Roderick’s neckcloth from beneath her pillow. “Oh, Roderick,” she said,
muffling her face against the smell of bayberry soap and sandalwood. “Where are
you?”

She threw herself on her bed, and her body shook with
grief as tears flowed down her cheeks.

A few minutes later, she wiped the wetness from her face,
grabbed a few pillows and propped herself on her side. She fingered Roderick’s
neckcloth, recalling the last time he wore it. It had been at Milli’s and
Marcus’s wedding.

The couple was to return soon. Their holiday had been
longer then planned. They had decided to take a grand tour of not just Italy,
but Europe too. However, the thought of greeting the newlyweds made Jane miserable.
The happy duo reminded her too much of her past when she and Roderick were
inseparable.

“Goodness, what brought this on?”

Jane looked up to see Agatha pushing past the door.

Jane sniffed, not able to hide her recent cry. She was
sure her nose was red and her eyes were bloodshot. “I don’t think he’s coming
back.”

Agatha sat on the end of the bed and frowned. She took
Jane’s chin in her gentle hands. Her gray eyes were filled with love. “Look at
me, child.”

Jane frowned. “I have yet to hear a word from him. I
am so scared.”

Agatha’s expression softened. “I have heard something.
He is alive. But still in France. I had nothing to tell you until today. Forgive
me for leaving you for so long, but there were things to be done. I wanted to
be in the thick of things…well, if anything went wrong.”

Jane rested her head against Agatha’s ample bosom. “I know
you are quite involved at Whitehall. I know there are things you cannot tell
me. But I prayed he would be all right. I prayed night and day.”

Agatha touched her arm. “Jane, there is more to it
than that. I have other news too.”

The worried tone in Agatha’s voice made Jane lift her
head. Her blood turned cold. “He is hurt?”

Agatha nodded. Tears came to the older woman’s eyes.

Jane sat up, her fingers clutching Roderick’s
neckcloth. “Tell me.”

Agatha let out a shaky sigh.

Jane grabbed her hand. “I am his wife, no matter what
anyone says. God was our witness that day.”

Agatha’s face crumpled, and she seemed to be weighing
her words. “There are a few things I need to tell you, dearest. Let me start
with the most important. Roderick was shot in the back.”

Jane’s heartbeat drummed in her ears.
Shot in the
back?

The very thought of Roderick lying in some bed, not
able to move, horrified her. At Waterloo, her friend’s cousin had been shot in
the back, and the man had been confined to his bed for the rest of his life.

Her throat became tight with grief.
Roderick! Roderick!

She put a fist to her mouth, thinking about his pain. But
she must not pity him. It would kill him. She would be strong. She would do
whatever she needed to do.

“Jared?” she asked, holding her breath, hoping Emily
still had a husband.

Agatha nodded. “Jared is alive. Roderick saved his
life.”

Jane eased out a weak smile. “I see. Where is Roderick
now? I must go to him.”

“He is recuperating.”

Jane jumped off the bed and winced as she held her
belly. “Tell me where. I must go to him.” She started for her wardrobe. “I must
call my maid. She can start packing.”

Agatha stood. “Jane, dear, that is out of the
question.

Jane spun around, frowning. “But I am much healthier
now.”

But she knew that determined look on Agatha’s face. With
a sinking heart, she also knew that Agatha was correct. She could not travel
and put this baby in jeopardy.

“I think you realize the danger,” Agatha said softly.
“But your heart is in the right place.”

Jane felt her world spinning out of control. She sank into
the needlepoint chair beside her looking glass. She felt helpless. “But…he
needs me.”

Agatha clenched her hands and looked away.

Jane’s chest tightened. “What else?”

Agatha gulped. “He cannot walk.”

Jane felt the bile climb up her throat. Her hands
tightened into fists as she fought back the pain. “He has no wish to see me, is
that it?”

 “Men,” Agatha replied, her mouth grim. “All
proud and arrogant. Especially that duke of yours.”

Jane shot from her seat, tears spilling over her lids.
Her heart felt as if it had been ripped from her chest. Roderick didn’t want to
see her. Did he think her so shallow she would turn her back on him? Anger sliced
through her. “He is not my duke,” she snapped, too overwhelmed with emotion to
know what she was saying. “Not anymore.”

“That’s what you think.”

Regretting her harsh words, Jane threw her hands to
her rounded hips and glared at her aunt. Her mind could barely comprehend what
was happening. “I will not be kept from him. I don’t care what he says.”

“He will not see you,” the older lady said, frowning.
“Besides, as I said, if my information is correct, Roderick is still in
France.”

“I would think if he was hurt, he would come home.”

“He is supposed to return to England soon, but you
must remember, he knows nothing about the baby. He still needs to heal.”

Jane’s jaw slackened in surprise. “And you believe that
would make him worse? I would think he would be excited.”

“He would worry about you, dearest. Worry more than he
is doing right now. I daresay, in your condition, you cannot travel. France is
out of the question. Even ten miles from here may jeopardize your condition,
and you know it. Besides, Roderick would take one look at you and be worried
sick that you were going to die.”

Jane frowned. “I see.”

“Do you?” Agatha asked, walking across the bedchambers
and resting a gentle hand on her shoulder. “The best thing you can do now is to
take care of his child.”

“But if I am not married to him, and it is a boy, it
will not be his heir.”

Agatha stared at her, then hesitated.

Jane narrowed her gaze. Was there something else the
older lady wasn’t telling her?

“Do not worry about being wed to the man. I, uh, will
take care of that. It could be a mistake, for all we know.”

“A mistake?” Jane asked warily.

Agatha cleared her throat. “Yes, well, you stay well, and
we will see what we can do for that stubborn duke of yours.”

Jane had no idea how Agatha could take care of their marital
situation. And a mistake? She began to wonder if the lady had interfered from
the very beginning. It didn’t matter now, though. Roderick was ill, and he
needed her. She would approach Agatha about the subject on another day when she
could think straight.

“Do you—do you think he will ever walk again?”
she asked, her bottom lip trembling. “I will love him no matter what. But Roderick
is so proud, I fear this will crush him.”

“I don’t know, child.” Suddenly, the lady’s eyes lit
with mischief. “Perhaps we can send Mrs. Hobbs to Roderick and see what she can
do?”

Jane’s face brightened. “Of course, why did I not
think of that?”

Agatha frowned. “I was only jesting, dear. If you
recall, Roderick and the captain do not get along very well these days.”

Jane chuckled. “You are a wicked lady, Agatha.”

Agatha’s smile was shaky. “I am wicked, dearest. And
there is something else I must tell you. I have a confession to make.”

“Oh, dear, what did you do?” Jane asked warily.

“I only did it because I love you. But you must not
judge me. I could not tell you earlier because things did not work out like I
thought they would, and then I thought you might keep me from the baby.”

A wave of anxiety skittered down Jane’s spine. “I
don’t even know if I wish to hear this.”

“Well, truly, Jane, sometimes one needs a little help
in a marriage when one has a husband as stubborn as Roderick. And dearest, you
must not look at me like that.”

“Oh, Agatha,” Jane said, feeling pain wrap around her
stomach.

Agatha blinked in horror. “What is it?”

Jane winced and bent over, clutching her belly. “It’s
the baby. I think he’s coming.”

Agatha gasped. “Well, confound it! How do you know
it’s a he? Oh my! Get into bed! I will call for the doctor. Oh, where is that
captain?” She twirled around. “This is too early, Jane. You will have to wait!”
Her hands waved nervously in the air, and she dropped her parasol to the floor.
“My, my, my, where are my smelling salts when I need them? Goodness gracious! Now,
what was I supposed to do?”

Half-smiling, Jane took a deep breath and made her way
toward the bed. The poor lady was beside herself. “I have time, Agatha. Fetch
Emily, and do not worry. I have only been having these pains for the last few
hours. It’s just that now, they are ever so strong.”

The lady’s gray eyes looked about two sizes larger
than usual. “Me? Worried? Why would you say that? I am the most calm person in
this place.” Her voice hitched up a notch. “And why did you not tell me about
this hours ago when I came home?”

Jane barely opened her mouth before Agatha hastened
into the hall. “Emily!” the lady screamed. “Come quick! We have a dilemma on
our hands!”

Dilemma? Jane thought with a painful chuckle. King
George, this was much more than a dilemma. This was a catastrophe. The babe was
coming too early. At least, she thought it was.

She clenched her teeth against the pain and sank into her
pillow, trying to take deep, calming breaths. She would have this baby, and it
would be healthy and well. She would marry Roderick, whether he wanted her or
not. And that’s all there was to it!

Agatha stuck her head back in the room. “There, there,
Jane. I hear footsteps. It is only a matter of time. We will have the doctor
here straight away. Have no worries. One of my servants has gone off to fetch
Mrs. Hobbs too. One of them should be able to handle this.”

“That would be a good idea about the doctor,” Jane
said, smiling. “I may have said Mrs. Hobbs has
helped many babies come
into this world, but I meant she helped them get to that point.
I do not
believe the lady has ever delivered a baby herself, mind you.”

“WHAT?” Agatha staggered into the room, her face
white.