Unveiled (Undone by Love Book 3) (17 page)

***

A half hour later, Jane found herself standing outside a gray stone townhouse on Upper Brook Street, her lady’s maid at her side. This was Richmond House, Hayden’s accommodations in Town. Emily had pointed it out to her days ago as their carriage had sped past, and Jane was glad for the opportunity to study it more closely, admiring the fine details.

The mansion rose five stories high, a Venetian window gracing the first floor just above the shiny black front door with a white-stone Gibbs surround
. The keystone in the arch above the door depicted a lion’s head, intricately carved and amazingly detailed. A dogleg staircase doubled back from a single landing, its railing an elaborate scroll of ironwork painted a brilliant lapis blue. The house bespoke of great wealth and excellent taste.   

Bridgette peered up at her curiously
. “Are you planning to call on someone, Miss?”

“I’m not certain,” Jane confessed with a shake of the head
.

“Might I ask what lady resides here?”

“No ladies at all, I’m afraid.”

“I implore you to reconsider, then
. I would surely lose my position for allowing such an impropriety. Please, miss, let’s return at once to Leicester Square.”  Poor Bridgette stood on the walk, wringing her hands in desperation.

Bridgette was right, of course
. She could not call on a gentleman, a betrothed one at that. She hadn’t a clue what had come over her. She’d needed some air and she’d started walking aimlessly toward the park, her gaze lowered to the walk beneath her feet. When she’d looked up, Richmond House stood before her. For a moment, she’d allowed herself to consider going inside, giving her name to the butler and awaiting Hayden’s surprise at finding her there. She only wanted to tell him that she understood.

But it was folly
. With a nod, she turned and headed back toward the Tollands’ more modest residence as Bridgette’s dramatic sigh of relief reached her ears. They walked toward Leicester Square at a brisk pace, Jane’s heels tapping the cobbles in rhythm to her racing heart. Whatever had she been thinking, standing on the walk and gaping at his house?

A half hour later she skimmed up the stairs of the Tollands’ rented townhouse and breezed into the foyer
. “Where is Mrs. Tolland?” she asked the housekeeper as she handed over her bonnet.

“She’s gone out, miss,” the woman answered
. “Not a quarter hour ago. Mr. Tolland arrived home and they left in the carriage. Shopping, I believe.”

“Very well
. Perhaps I’ll rest, then.”  Jane hurried to her room, but instead of lying down, she sat at her small escritoire and began a letter to her mother. Her mother had hoped to join her in Town by now, but her youngest grandchild had taken ill and kept her in Essex. The poor child had the hooping cough, and Susanna had been happy for the extra pair of hands. Not for the first time, Jane realized how desperately she’d missed her family.

Voices below in the drawing room drew her attention away from her task before she’d yet filled the page
. Curious, she rose and went to the door, pulling it open and peering out into the hall. The housekeeper appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Have we callers?” Jane asked.

“Indeed. Lord Westfield is in the drawing room. Shall I tell him you are not at home?”

Jane swayed against the doorframe
. Had he seen her, standing outside his home? The blood rose in her face. Oh, if only Emily and Cecil had returned so that they could receive him. She pressed her fingertips to her temples, unable to decide what course to take. She took a deep, steadying breath and dropped her hands, straightening her spine. She would face him.

She took her time descending the stairs, her hand firmly gripping the banister for support
. Her feelings of trepidation increased as she neared her destination, and it was all she could do to force herself to breathe normally.

She stepped into the room on silent feet
. Hayden stood with his back to her, gazing out the window as the sun rose high in the sky. He held his hat in one hand, resting it upon his hip. She could see his black kid gloves folded neatly inside the hat. Her gaze skimmed across his broad back, the dove-gray wool of his jacket stretched taut across the impressive width. Dark locks curled against his collar, and Jane suppressed the urge to reach out, to feel his silky hair between her fingers. Unable to speak, she cleared her throat in an attempt to gain his attention.

He spun around in unmasked surprise
. “Miss Rosemoor.”

“Lord Westfield.”

He bowed stiffly. “I’d expected to find Tolland at home. We have some business to discuss.”

Jane shrugged
. “I’m afraid you’ve found only me. Will you sit?”

“I should go.”  He retrieved his gloves from his hat.

Jane gestured toward an oversized chair covered in wheat-covered velvet. “Please, Lord Westfield. Sit. I’ll ring for tea. Do not be uneasy on my account.” 

His gaze sought hers, and then he nodded
. Moving aside his coattails, he sat in the chair she’d indicated and stretched his long legs out before him.  

“Are you hungry?” she asked
. “Perhaps I’ll ask for some sandwiches and cakes with the tea.”

“That sounds very well, Miss Rosemoor.”  His voice was stilted with formality, and it made Jane flinch
.

In silence, she rang the bell
. Only after she’d made her request to the housekeeper did she take a seat opposite him.

“And how is baby Amelia faring?” he asked at last.

“Very well. She’s much less colicky these days and becoming quite a delight.”

“I’m glad to hear it
. Mrs. Tolland is well?”

“Yes, exceedingly so
. Town has done wonders for her spirits.”

Five full minutes passed in uncomfortable silence until the tea tray was laid before them
.

Jane was happy to busy herself with spooning sugar and stirring cream into her cup
. Hayden did the same. The food sat untouched.

At last Jane found her courage
. “The Pembertons’ ball last night was lovely.”

“It was tolerable,” he responded
.

She took a deep breath and spoke quickly
. “Emily has told me a bit about your past. Your sister and Lady Katherine.”

“Oh?” he asked, one brow raised
. “How very forthcoming of her.” 

“I only questioned her because you spoke so mysteriously
. Please don’t be angry with her.”

“I’m not angry.” 

He certainly
looked
angry. His mouth was pinched and his eyes looked like storm clouds about to burst.

“Perhaps now you understand,” he added, folding his arms across his chest
.  

“But you cannot blame yourself for their deaths
. You cannot believe yourself responsible.”

“I can believe whatever I wish to believe, Miss Rosemoor.”

Jane swallowed hard. “I understand,” she said quietly.

“Do you?”  He rose and stood towering over her
. “Do you understand? Do you know what it’s like to know you’re cursed, forced to deny your will, compelled to go against your own desires? To protect yourself and those you might love? Can you possibly understand what it’s like to live in that hell?”

A tear coursed down Jane’s cheek
. She reached up to brush it away. “I
do
understand. You see, I’m similarly cursed myself.”

He stepped back from her and she saw his face blanch
. “What do you mean, ‘similarly cursed’?”

She shook her head
. “I cannot tell you.” 

“Cannot or will not?”

“Both. I could not speak the words, even if I wanted to. It’s far too dreadful.”  She stood to face him, her gaze challenging his.

He reached for her shoulders, taking them roughly in his grasp
. “Tell me,” he commanded.

Jane took a deep breath before replying, fighting for the courage to say the words aloud
. “I will not have children. Therefore, I cannot marry. Not you, not anyone,” she whispered, feeling as if her heart might break in two.

“Not even William Nickerson?”

“Not even him,” she answered, a bubble of hysteria rising in her breast, threatening to topple her composure.

“But you seem so fond of Amelia
. You were so good to Madeline. How can you not want children?”

“I didn’t say I don’t want children, my lord
. I said I cannot have them.” 

“Cannot
? But how can you know such a thing? And even if it’s true, you can still marry.”

“No.”  She shook her head wildly
. “You don’t understand.” 

“Then make me understand.” 

“Oh, Lord Westfield,” a voice called out, and he released Jane at once. She looked up as Emily entered the room, her eyes wide with surprise.

“Westfield, old boy
. Sorry to keep you waiting.”  Cecil strode into the room and clapped Hayden on one shoulder. “Why, we just ran into your betrothed, buying her trousseau I suppose.”

Jane’s heart contracted painfully as her eyes met Hayden’s one last time
. As long as she remained in Town, she’d be forced to endure reminders of his impending nuptials. No doubt she’d continue to run into him or Miss Upshaw wherever she went. It was unavoidable. However would she bear it? Already her fragile heart could take no more.

She turned and fled from the room
.

Chapter 14

Jane pulled her shawl more tightly about her shoulders as she stepped out of the carriage and walked toward the grand, columned façade of the Theatre Royal Haymarket, Nickerson’s hand resting lightly on her elbow
. She sighed heavily. She loved the theatre, of course, but no doubt Hayden would be there, Miss Upshaw on his arm. Tonight marked the opening of Mrs. Centlivre’s
The Busy Body
, and everyone was suddenly abuzz about it. No doubt the
ton
’s finest would be in abundance tonight.  

As they entered the theatre and made their way through the lobby to their box, Lucy turned and smiled weakly at her
. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said brightly, speaking loudly to be heard over the din of the crowd, “but Henry has asked Lord Westfield to join us tonight.

Jane was sure that her shock was evident in her countenance
. Why had no one mentioned this to her until now–now that it was far too late for her to decline the invitation?

Lucy moved closer and whispered in her ear
. “What could I say, Jane? You asked me not to speak a word of it to him.”

Jane forced herself to smile in reply
. It was the truth; she had exacted such a promise from Lucy, and she was glad and a little surprised that her friend had actually honored the request. She must suffer through it, all five acts. Her head began to pound in anticipation as she settled herself into her seat between Lucy and Nickerson. Emily and Cecil took seats behind them, next to the two empty seats directly behind Jane. Awaiting Hayden and his betrothed, of course.

Nickerson tipped his fair head toward hers
. “There she is,” he whispered. “Miss Adare. With her parents, and that’s her uncle, Lord Astley, behind her.”

Jane sat forward in her seat, her eyes trained on the box across the width of the theatre from them
. Miss Adare wore a gown of pale yellow, and she smiled sweetly across the way at them.

Jane was moved into action
. “Come, then. There’s still time before the curtain. Let us go and pay our respects.”

“Are you mad
? I can’t just walk over there and start chatting with her.” 

“No,” Jane whispered with a smile
. “But I can. Lucy,” she said, tapping her friend on the wrist with her fan. “If you’ll excuse us for one moment, there’s someone I’d like to speak to. Come, Mr. Nickerson. I won’t be but a moment.”

“Of course,” he answered, taking her arm with a delighted smile.

It seemed they’d never make their way across the lobby, so thick was the crowd, all trying their best to see and be seen before the evening’s actual entertainments began. At last they made their way to Lord Astley’s box. With her head held high, Jane stepped in, delighted by Miss Adare’s expression of joyful surprise at finding her beloved in her midst.

“Miss Adare, how lovely to see you again.”  Jane reached out to grasp the girl’s hand in hers
. “I’m so glad we had the chance to get reacquainted at the Pemberton’s ball last week. I had to come and pay my respects when I saw you sitting directly across the way.” 

“Oh, Miss Rosemoor,” Miss Adare said, her dark eyes shining brightly as she rose to stand before them
. “What a delightful surprise.”  She couldn’t seem to keep her gaze from trailing longingly to Nickerson’s beaming face.

“You must meet my escort for the evening, Mr. William Nickerson
. He’s been a friend of mine for many years. Mr. Nickerson, this is Miss Marianne Adare.”

“Miss Adare, a pleasure.”  He reached for the girl’s hand and bowed, his gray eyes dancing with mischief
. “I believe we have met, albeit briefly, in Kent.”

“Of course,” Miss Adare answered, her cheeks flushing pink
. “At my Aunt’s estate. That’s why you look so familiar, then.” 

Her parents rose and joined them
. “Miss Rosemoor, how lovely to see you,” Lady Adare trilled. “How is your dear mother? When will she be coming to Town?”

“Soon, I hope
. I’m afraid my sister’s youngest has been quite ill and my mother has remained in Essex to lend a hand. But she does hope to spend some time here before the Season ends. Have you met Mr. Nickerson?”

“I don’t believe we have,” Sir Alan answered with a smile
.

“Mr. Nickerson, Sir Alan Adare and his wife, Lady Adare
. I present Mr. William Nickerson, a longtime Rosemoor family friend. My father thought very highly of Mr. Nickerson,” she added.

Sir Alan stroked his whiskers
. “Is that so? Well, then, it is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Nickerson.” 

The men shook hands, and Nickerson bowed gracefully to Lady Adare
.

“Well, Miss Adare, I’m afraid I must hurry back across to the Mandevilles’ box
. It’s such a pleasure to see you again. I hope you enjoy the evening.”

“Oh, I’m sure to,” she murmured, casting a shy glance at Nickerson from beneath her lowered lashes
.

Jane congratulated herself smugly as they made their way back across the lobby to their own seats
. That had gone perfectly, just as she’d anticipated. As they stepped into the privacy of the box, Nickerson reached earnestly for her hand and squeezed it.

“That was brilliant, Miss Rosemoor, simply brilliant.”  He raised her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles
. “You are surely the most extraordinary woman I know.” 

Jane laughed merrily, pleased with herself for aiding his cause
.

Someone cleared their throat loudly, and only then did Jane notice Hayden sitting there, a frown darkening his face
.

“Good evening, Lord Westfield,” she said with forced cheeriness as she took her seat, noting the still empty one by the earl’s side
. “Where is Miss Upshaw tonight?”

“She accompanied her parents to Surrey for a sennight.”

“Really?”  Nickerson took his own seat beside Jane. “A newly betrothed girl taking off to the countryside? Not sticking around Town to bask in her accomplishment? I’m astonished.” 

Hayden only raised a brow in reply
.

“Jane, who is that watching our box with opera glasses?”  Lucy leaned toward her with a frown
. “Right there, down below in the pit? He just lowered the glasses and is staring right up at...at you, I believe.”

Jane squinted to make out the form in dark dress coat leaning indolently against the row in front of him, smiling up at her lasciviously
. She sucked in her breath. Clifton. Down there in the pit, amidst the
demi-monde
, his wife nowhere in sight. He kept his eyes trained on her until a woman in a shockingly transparent dress leaned over to him and whispered something in his ear, affording him an ample view of her breasts as she did so. Jane watched in disgust as he whispered something in return, and then reached a hand out to tweak one nipple through the thin cloth of her bodice. He briefly threw his head back and laughed, then sought Jane out in the crowd once more, his eyes pausing briefly on her face before lowering blatantly to her décolletage.

Dear God, Jane thought in horror
. The nerve of the man. She turned toward Nickerson. His face was scarlet.

“How dare he?”  Nickerson sprang to his feet
. “I’ll have a word with that scoundrel.”  

“Oh, no, you won’t.”  Jane reached for his sleeve and pulled him back to his seat
. “Really, Nickerson, what has he done besides look at me?”

“Indecently, Miss Rosemoor
. He looks at you as if you weren’t a lady, and I won’t stand for it.” 

The house lights dimmed
. “Shhh. The play is set to begin. No more of this.”

He sat with a grimace
. Jane couldn’t resist turning in her seat and stealing a glance at Hayden behind her. The murderous look on his face made her blood run cold. His hooded eyes were narrowed and flashing, his hands flexing menacingly. She spun back to face the stage with a gasp, forcing herself to think of nothing save the play. It was a losing battle, of course. She flicked open her fan and nervously stirred the air, hoping to cool her flushed cheeks as she trained her eyes on the stage.

When the first intermission presented itself, Jane’s neck was stiff with tension
. It had taken a great amount of concentration to keep her gaze forward, to resist the sharp pull to turn in her seat and peek at Hayden. She could physically feel his eyes on her back, burning her skin, prickling her neck, throughout every minute of the first act. Again, she set her fan in motion, the heat rising in her face.

“A lemonade, Mr. Nickerson,” she managed to say, her voice strangled
. “Might you fetch me one?”

“Of course.”  He leaned toward her
. “Who knows who I might encounter out there, eh?” 

Jane forced herself to smile up at him
. He exited with a smile, all thoughts of Clifton’s offense obviously long forgotten.

“Jane, we’ll return shortly,” Lucy said, rising to her feet and taking her husband’s proffered arm
. “Henry and I are going for a stroll. Poor man,” she said with a laugh. “He finds theatre almost as unbearable as the opera. We’ll return in time for the third act.”

As soon as the Mandevilles departed, grinning at each other with a mischievous glint in their eyes, Emily rose and reached for Cecil’s arm
. “Cecil, darling, I think I could use some air, myself. Jane, can we get you anything?”

“No, Nickerson’s fetching me a lemonade,” she answered before she thought
. Blast it, now she had no excuse but to remain here in the box with
him
. What was this, she thought, as Emily and Cecil took their leave–some sort of conspiracy? Glancing at Hayden, she saw that he looked as uncomfortable as she felt about finding themselves alone in such a small space. He stood abruptly and moved toward the back of the box, his arms folded as his eyes scanned the double circle of boxes.

Just then, Alexander Clifton appeared in the open doorway
. He bowed, then faced her with a roguish smile, his white teeth flashing in his face. “Miss Rosemoor. What a pleasure to see you. The first few weeks of the Season seemed somehow less bright without your presence.”

“Good evening, Mr. Clifton.”  Jane bobbed a curtsey
. “And how is Mrs. Clifton?” 

He shrugged
. “I wouldn’t know, nor do I care overmuch. She lacks your spirit, Miss Rosemoor. Courting you a few years ago has spoilt me for other ladies, I’m afraid. I was hoping perhaps we could renew our acquaintance.”

From the corner of her eye, Jane saw Hayden move out of the shadows
.

Surprise registered briefly on Clifton’s countenance, replaced immediately with a knowing, cocky grin
. “Once you tire of your current paramour, that is.”

“What are you suggesting, Clifton?” Hayden challenged, his voice clipped
. He moved toward the much smaller man, his hands clenched and his massive chest thrown out menacingly.

Clifton stepped up, seemingly not the least intimidated
. “Come now, we’re all adults here. Miss Rosemoor is no longer a debutante, well past the marriageable age. There’s no shame in it. A woman has certain needs, after all. I saw the two of you, stumbling out of the dark lanes at Vauxhall not so many weeks ago, your clothing in a shocking state of disarray. I’m offering to set you up, Miss Rosemoor. To give you
carte
blanche
. I know for a fact I’m offering you more than Westfield here has. I’ve asked around, you see. What say you, Miss Rosemoor?” he asked with an arrogant smile. “Are you game?”

Jane was utterly shocked into silence, barely able to believe her ears
. And then it registered in her mind...he’d seen them–seen her and Lord Westfield together at Vauxhall Gardens. What must Clifton think of her? Worse still, what if he told? She had always held dear her sterling, exemplary reputation. Never before had it been threatened, not even the slightest bit. Her hand rose to cover her mouth, bile rising in her throat at the thought of ruin.

“Well?” he asked, and only then did Jane notice Hayden’s silence
.

Suddenly Hayden’s fist flew out, connecting with Clifton’s jaw with an unnaturally loud crack
. Jane recoiled in shock as Clifton sank to the ground, a spot of bright-red blood appearing at one corner of his mouth.

She looked over to Hayden who stood with his feet planted firmly apart, his hands in fists by his sides, breathing raggedly
.
Defending her honor, even though he was betrothed to another
.

Clifton struggled to sit, one hand reaching up to feel the wetness that dripped from his mouth, staining his cravat
. He looked to his blood-covered hand with surprise, then up to Westfield.

“Apologize to the lady at once, Clifton,” Hayden barked
.

“Apologize?”  He rose unsteadily to his feet
.

“Unless you want me to make your life miserable, I suggest you do as I ask
. Together with Lord Mandeville, I can make things particularly difficult for you in this town. I know you owe an enormous debt to a number of creditors, some more, shall I say,
unreasonable
than others. I won’t think twice about insisting that your loans be called in. You will apologize, and you will never speak a word of this. In fact, you’ll never speak to Miss Rosemoor again, nor will you as much as utter her name to anyone. Understood?”