Unveiled (Undone by Love Book 3) (18 page)

Clifton looked from Hayden to her, and back again before nodding his assent
. “Understood.”  He turned toward her, his gaze dull and lifeless. “Miss Rosemoor, I apologize for my behavior and hope that someday you will find it in your heart to forgive this, ah, misunderstanding on my part.”

Jane only nodded.

“Now get out.”  Hayden nodded toward the doorway.

Clifton acquiesced, nearly tripping over a chair in his haste to quit their company.

Jane’s eyes met Hayden’s the moment they were alone again. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“He’ll remain silent, have no fear
. His debts are far too substantial to risk it. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s married to poor Miss Portia, I’d call him out. Although now that I think about it, it’s not such a bad idea. She’d be substantially better off without him.”

“She’d be left without a shilling to her name,” Jane said quietly.

“Hmm, you’re right. No matter. It’s settled. He won’t bother you again; I’d stake my life on it.”  He ruefully rubbed his knuckles, already turning an alarming shade of blue.

“Oh, dear
. Your hand. Let me see.”  Jane reached for it. “You might have broken something.”

He pulled his hand from her grasp
. “Nothing save his teeth. Far less than he deserved.”

“You must let me see,” Jane insisted
. Reluctantly he assented, wincing as she took his hand in hers and ran her fingertips lightly across the swollen knuckles. “You should get some ice on this at once.”  She couldn’t help but allow her fingers to linger on his, unable to release him, to break the physical connection. As the theater darkened once more, he interlaced his fingers with hers, covering their joined hand with his free one. Looking around, he shrugged. “Where has everyone gone off to?”

Jane smiled thinly
. “Purposefully leaving us alone, I imagine.”

He tilted his head toward hers
. “Do you suppose anyone would notice if we slipped out of here?”

“Together
? Without a doubt.”  She nodded. Her hand remained firmly clasped within his.

“Even for a moment?”

“Are you willing to risk it? As it is, Clifton managed to spy us together at the Gardens. No, we cannot. Besides, what would come of it?”

He shook his head
. “I do not know. I only know that I want it more than anything.”  His voice was soft against her ear, his warm breath caressing her skin.

“I should leave London at once, before we cause further talk, before your betrothal contract is endangered.”

“I want to kiss you, Jane,” he murmured against her ear. “I want to touch you. I
need
to touch you.”

“Not here,” she said vehemently, roughly shaking her head
.

“Where, then?”  His voice was rough, filled with need
. For a brief moment, Jane allowed herself to revel in the power she wielded over him–womanly power. She had him in the palm of her hand, yes. But what to do with such power? They were so much alike, after all. She understood his torment and it made her feel closer to him that she’d ever felt to anyone, save Lucy. When she spoke, the words surprised even her.   

“I’m told there are places, here at the theatre,” Jane whispered
. “Dark places, secret places.”

“Follow me,” he whispered huskily, reaching for her hand
.

Minutes later, Hayden turned into a darkened hallway, reaching for a door that led to an abandoned dressing room, now being utilized as some sort of storeroom. Jane followed close behind. Looking around to make sure no one was about, he pulled her roughly inside, closing the door and turning the lock before taking her mouth with his–roughly, desperately. She moaned against his lips, hers held firm, then yielded, her hands finding his linen shirt as her tongue met his. With several tugs, she released the linen from his trousers, and he shuddered as he felt her bare hands slide up his torso, her fingertips brushing his skin with exquisite softness. In an instant his staff hardened, straining against the wool barrier that separated them. He pressed himself fully against her as her hands circled to his back, her nails digging into his flesh as she drew him closer.

Abandoning her hot, sweet mouth, he sunk to his knees, his hands pushing up her skirts while he simultaneously pulled down her stockings
. “Hayden,” she cried out, “please.”  He groaned at the invitation, and his lips found her warm skin immediately, his tongue tracing a path upwards, toward her silky thighs. Cloaked in darkness, his hands replaced his mouth on her bare legs, his fingers stroking her flesh, moving steadily toward the apex of her thighs. She gasped as he found her mound of soft curls, her entrance slippery and wet. Ready for him. He ran his thumb over the hardened nubbin of flesh nestled between her folds, and her whole body shuddered convulsively at the contact. Bloody hell, it would be so easy, so very easy to take her right then and there.

But it would also be wrong, for so many reasons
. Too many reasons to name. Struggling valiantly to squelch the riptide of desire coursing through him, he dropped his hands and pressed his face against her thighs as he tried to catch his breath. “I can’t do this,” he muttered, his voice ragged. “God help me, I can’t.”       

“Look at us, Hayden,” she gasped, her whole body trembling against him
. “Look what I’ve become. I am what Clifton supposed I am. Nothing but your–”

“Don’t say it.” He rose on unsteady legs, placing a finger across her lips
. “It isn’t true.”

“What are we doing, then
? Why did I allow this? I don’t recognize the woman I’ve become.” 

He reached blindly for her hands
. “I cannot explain it myself. We got carried away, that’s all. But it will go no further.” 

“I’ll leave London at once
. This isn’t fair to Miss Upshaw. Were I in her position, I’d never...”  She swallowed hard, her remorse evident in her halting voice.

“It isn’t fair to
you
, Jane. I’m a sorry excuse for a gentleman.”  Hell, he’d boxed Clifton for nothing more than insulting Jane’s honor, for assuming her virtue was lost, yet here he was, doing everything in his power to take that virtue, to steal her virginity even while he was betrothed to another.

He bit back the sour taste of self-hatred, not for the first time, and found his usual steady, commanding voice
. “Go, Jane.”  He moved away from her. “Leave me. Get away from me, before it’s too late.”

With a whimper, Jane did exactly as he requested
. He’d never forget the pained look in her eyes as the door swung open and she fled from him, no doubt hating him every bit as much as he hated himself.

Chapter 15

Derbyshire

“I’m so glad you insisted we leave Town when we did, Jane.”  Emily looked up from her needlework with a smile. “I feel much restored already. I’m grateful to you for looking after my health.”

A wave of guilt washed over Jane, for her reasons for fleeing Town had little to do with Emily’s well-being
.   

“Besides,” Emily added, “I see the bloom has returned to your cheeks
. There’s nothing better than the clean, pure Derbyshire air. It acts like a tonic every time.”

“I believe you’re right.”  Jane smiled indulgently, not wanting to remind her that they’d only gone to London in the first place to cure Emily of a terrible despondency that began there in the Derbyshire air
. “And how is Amelia faring? I know the journey must have been tiring for such a little one.”

“Very well, actually
. None the worse for the wear. The nurse was hoping to take her out today; it’s too bad the weather has turned so abysmal. I’m a firm believer in the restorative powers of fresh air, even for an infant.”

“I agree
. The dark skies make me want to curl up in bed all day.”  Jane reached a hand up to stifle a yawn.

Emily nodded in agreement
. “It was all I could do to get out of bed this morning. Oh, not because of melancholy,” Emily added, waving a hand. “It’s just that the sound of rain makes me so very sleepy, that’s all.”

Jane studied her cousin’s expression closely, but could find no sign of artifice
.
Thank goodness
. She sighed in relief.

In the days since their return, Emily’s moods had swung wildly from delight at being home again to a quiet melancholy, and back again to apparent cheerfulness
. Jane desperately longed to leave these parts, to return to Essex and the family she’d left behind. The knowledge that Hayden’s home lay just beyond the woods outside her window unsettled her greatly, even though he remained in Town. She was plagued by the memory of his touch at the theatre, mortified by her own wanton behavior.

She needed to get away, far away, from any reminders of him
. Yet she did not quite feel ready to leave Emily alone, especially as Cecil had spent less time at home and more time away since their return.

Jane set aside her own needlework and rose from the settee
. She crossed the room in several strides and stood at the window, gazing out at the misty twilight shrouded in a drizzling rain as her sense of self-preservation battled against her love for her delicate cousin. She ran her fingers across the heavy brocade drapes and shivered, feeling a chill even though none survived in the warm, humid air that wafted in the window.

At once an odd, low-pitched sound reached her ears, growing louder and more intense
. The hair rose on the nape of her neck in response to the eerie noise. Suddenly an enormous white dog moved into view on the edge of the wood, barking raucously.

Emily rose and joined Jane at the window
. “Whatever is that?”

Recognition dawned on her
. She’d seen the dog before. At Richmond Park, the day she’d gone to ask Hayden to find Cecil and bring him home for Amelia’s birth. “Isn’t that Lord Westfield’s dog?”

Emily squinted, leaning closer to the window, then nodded
. “It is. Vlad, he’s called. But I’ve never seen him so far from home. How odd.”

The barking grew louder, more insistent, and then the animal turned toward the woods and let out a loud, plaintive whine before turning back toward the Tollands’ house
. He continued barking, pacing back and forth and moving closer to the house.

“Is Cecil home?” Jane asked her cousin.

“No, he left this morning for Shropshire. I don’t expect him back for a fortnight.”

Jane headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”  Emily followed her. “You can’t go out in this weather.”

“Where is my cloak?”  Jane looked around distractedly, then hurried to the entrance hall where she found her black cloak hanging on a peg beneath a gilt-framed mirror
.

“But you can’t mean to go out in this drizzle, not in those slippers.”

“I must. I have this terrible feeling that something is not right.”  She fastened her cloak and pulled the folds of the hood over her head.

“Jane, I beg you to reconsider.”  Emily stood in the doorway wringing her hands as Jane hurried out toward the distressed dog
.

Moisture seeped into her slippers at once, but Jane didn’t heed the discomfort
. She almost swore she saw relief light the animal’s intelligent brown eyes as he spotted her and loped to her side. He ran in circles around her, barking and whimpering as he attempted to herd her toward the woods.

“What’s wrong, Vlad
? Shall I follow you?”  The dog whined in reply. “You’ve something to show me, haven’t you, boy? Come then, lead the way. And make haste!”

Jane set off, following the dog’s path through the dense wood that she now knew led to Richmond Park
. Vlad hurried on ahead, barked in agitation, and then circled back to her side before leading her off again.

At last she saw him stop in a thicket ahead, crouched down on his haunches
. He let out a blood-curdling howl. Breathless and soaked through, Jane ran the distance separating them.

Her blood turned cold
. There, lying on a bed of mossy earth beside a downed tree limb, was little Madeline, her eyes closed and a deathly pallor across her features. A gash above one eyebrow was caked with blood and a goose-egg distended her brow. Most frightening of all, her lips were a dreadful shade of blue.

In sheer terror, Jane knelt to the ground and laid her head on the girl’s chest
.

Thank God
! The child was breathing. But she was cold, so very cold. However would she warm her?

She stood and hastily unfastened her cloak, then knelt again to wrap the girl in its folds
. As gingerly as possible, she lifted Madeline’s limp body and held her close, hoping the heat from her own body would help warm Madeline’s blood.

“Please, Vlad,” she pleaded, “I know you cannot understand me, but you must lead me back to Emily
. I cannot do it alone.”

As if he perfectly understood the words, Vlad trotted off, back in the direction from which they’d come
. Nearly blinded by the misty rain mixed with her own tears, Jane raced after the dog, clutching the child to her breast. Somewhere along the way, she lost a slipper, but she dared not stop to retrieve it.

Relief washed over her as she saw the Tollands’ house take form through the foggy mist
. She increased her pace, her lungs positively burning from exertion. The door swung open and Emily ran down the steps, her delicate features twisted with fear.

“Dear God, whatever has happened
? Madeline?”

“Vlad led me right to her, lying in the woods.”

“She’s unconscious?”

Jane nodded
. “It looks like a blow to the head. You must summon the surgeon at once!”

“Of course.”  Emily turned and headed back inside at a run, Jane following close behind
.

When she reached the salon, Jane gingerly laid the child down upon the sofa and began to inspect her thoroughly for other wounds she might have missed
. Breathing a sigh of relief, she tightened the cloak about her small form. She saw no additional injuries, at least none visible to the eye. She laid a hand across Madeline’s brow and gasped as her hand made contact with the child’s skin. She was burning with fever.

Emily reappeared at last, carrying a basin of water and a cloth
. “I sent word to Westfield’s surgeon to come straight away.”

“Good
. A fever has set in.”

“Then let us pray he comes quickly.”

Jane nodded solemnly.
She must recover
, her mind screamed out.
She must
. She realized with a start that her concern extended beyond that of the child’s welfare. She thought of Hayden, as well.
I cannot go through it again
, he’d said, just weeks before. However would he manage if Madeline was taken from him? She closed her eyes and shuddered.

Hurry
, she thought.
Please hurry
. If only she could summon the surgeon to her side with her thoughts alone. She reached down and clasped the child’s small hand in her own, watching helplessly as her tears splashed onto their wrists and rolled off.

***

“Her condition is grave, indeed.”  Mr. Allan wiped his hands on a blood-stained cloth. “The cut and knock to the head are the least of it. It’s the fever that might take her. Under no circumstance is she to be moved to Richmond Park. She must remain here.”

“I’ll ready a room for you, then, Mr. Allan
. But first I’d best send word to Richmond Park.”  Emily bustled out.

“It’s lucky she is that you stumbled upon her when you did, Miss Rosemoor
. Another hour exposed to the elements and she would not have survived.”

Jane looked to the huge white dog that remained planted firmly in the chamber’s corner, his curly coat matted from the rain
. He’d saved the child’s life.
What a remarkable animal
. She resolved to go to the kitchen and find a meaty bone for him as soon as she could slip away.

“As it is, I’m not certain she’ll live through the night,” the man continued dourly, shaking his head
. “Lord Westfield has suffered enough misfortune as it is. This is terrible, very terrible indeed. I will remain here and do everything in my power to aid her recovery, of that you can be sure.”

Taking the child’s hand in her own, Jane sat wearily, massaging Madeline’s palm with her thumb
. “Please, Madeline,” she murmured. “You must fight. You cannot leave us.”  Her eyes misted with unshed tears.

“Come, Jane,” Emily spoke from the doorway a quarter hour later
. “I’ll sit with her a spell. You’re soaked and you’re shivering. I’ve had a warm bath sent up to your room.”

Jane shook her head silently
. She couldn’t leave her. Not now. Not with her condition so tenuous, her hold on life so fragile.

“You’ll be of no use to her if you catch your own death from the dampness
. Please, Jane. I insist that you do as I ask.”  Emily moved to her side, laying one hand on her shoulder.

“Mrs. Tolland is right,” the surgeon added, looking up from his tray of supplies
. “Else you’ll end up abed yourself, I’m afraid, and I’ll have two patients to tend instead of one.”

  Jane shivered, suddenly aware of the damp cold that permeated her dress
. Droplets of water fell from her hair to the floor at her feet, silently splashing against the floorboards. She looked down, surprised to see she wore only one mud-caked slipper, her other foot in nothing but a soggy, stained stocking. A puddle had formed beneath her, slowly increasing in circumference, even as she watched.

At last, Jane nodded
. They were right. She couldn’t remain here in this state. She allowed Emily to wrap a blanket around her shoulders.

“Thank you, Jane
. I know Lord Westfield would want you to see to your own health.”  Emily smiled a weak smile, her eyes full of understanding. “He would not suffer such stubbornness, you know.”  

Jane reached for her hand and squeezed it in reply
.
Emily knew him well
.

“Besides,” Emily continued, “someone must write to him in London
. I’m sure the staff at Richmond Park will do so, but one of us should send word as well, and assure him we will do everything we can to see to her care. My eyes grow tired, Jane. Perhaps you will write the letter?”

Seeing right through her cousin’s ruse, Jane smiled
. She had underestimated Emily; clearly, she recognized more than she let on.

“I will write to him on your behalf, Emily
. As soon as I get myself out of these wet things and warmed up a bit, that is. Will you stay here with her until I return?”

“Of course,” Emily answered
.

Jane leaned over Madeline’s still form and placed a kiss on one burning cheek
.

“Fight, little soldier
. He needs you.”

***

“I still can’t believe you braved Almack’s. I wish I had witnessed it with my own eyes.”  Lord Mandeville picked up his glass with a grimace. “Allow me to retract that statement. Witnessing it would have required my presence at Almack’s.” 

Hayden drained his own glass and signaled for the waiter to bring him another
. Tonight’s Parliamentary session had run late and White’s was teeming with weary gentlemen, all hoping for a restorative meal and drink before heading home. It was all Hayden could do to catch the attention of the harried young man, dashing between tables with a heavy tray balanced on his hands.