Her One True Love (5 page)

Simmons glared at Katy's profile before dipping his head. “As you wish, sir.”

Positively squirming, Jane concentrated on holding her fraying temper as Katy continued to talk at her usual extraordinary rate. Matthew continued to listen to Katy's chattering, his expression one of unquestionable impatience. Once again, his smile had vanished into obscurity.

 

As they walked into the drawing room, Matthew glared at the back of the silly Wrexford girl's head as her blond curls bobbed and leapt from beneath her overly flamboyant hat. How, in a million years, could Jane have befriended such an excitable woman-child? Her chatter was incessant.

Jane steered Miss Wrexford toward a seat by the fire, and Matthew cast his gaze around a dingy, male-oriented drawing room that Noel Danes had never seemed to have much care for.

The lit lamps offered little cheer to the dark walls and furnishings, or the settee upholstered in dark mahogany velvet that clashed blindingly with the lime green curtains. On and on Miss Wrexford talked, her voice sounding more and more like the drone of bees. He wandered to the fireplace and stared into the dust-covered foliage that, at some point, might have served to offer a modicum of brightness to the depressing room.

He put his hand on Simmons's shoulder as he rose from the hearth. “Why don't you join Jeannie in the kitchen? I'm sure she would have at least found a kettle to put on to boil by now.”

Simmons nodded. “As you wish, sir. Shall I send her through with a tea tray if she's able?”

“If she doesn't mind, it would be appreciated.”

Simmons nodded and left the room.

“Matthew? I just explained to Katy that you will not be available for tea tomorrow afternoon, isn't that right?”

Jane's question snapped Matthew's attention from Simmons's retreating back, and he quickly bypassed Miss Wrexford's flushed face and green, excitable eyes to focus entirely on Jane. “I'm sorry? Tea?”

Her cheeks flushed and she widened her eyes as if pleading with him . . . or maybe offering him salvation. “Yes. Katy suggested we might like to take tea at the Pump Room with her and some acquaintances tomorrow. She'd like to introduce me to a few ladies currently in the city. I said you were here on business, so—”

“On the contrary . . .” Matthew straightened, before dipping his head in gratitude to Miss Wrexford. “I'd be delighted.”

Despite his determination that Jane could seek her independence, he wasn't prepared for that independence to begin quite yet. Every instinct told him Miss Katy Wrexford could not be trusted and as much as he knew Jane capable of taking care of herself, he wanted to be sure her first days in the city weren't enough to dampen her pursuit of what she came here to do.

Miss Wrexford burst into a round of clapping and bouncing up and down in her seat. “Wonderful! That is such good news. Mama will, of course, join us. My friends are quite an eclectic bunch, Squire Cleaves, so I am sure you won't find yourself in want of attention or conversation.”

Matthew held Jane's shocked, maybe even furious, stare. “I'm sure I won't.” He turned to Miss Wrexford. “What time would you like me to attend?”

“Mama has already reserved a table for four.” She giggled, her cheeks flushing. “Any later, we run the risk of missing people as they enter the tearoom. We do so like seeing who is out and about. I will send my maid to advise the Pump Room of two more places. Now, I had better return home before I get into trouble.” She rose from her seat and held out her hand. “Until tomorrow, Squire.”

Matthew took her hand and bowed.

Another giggle and she then clasped Jane's hands as she stood beside her. Their voices faded into the background as they exited the room into the hallway. The moment they disappeared, Matthew gripped the mantel above the fireplace.

Since when did he take tea with a coven of chattering women?

He squeezed his eyes shut, the threat of an impending headache thumping at his temples. But how could he not? As dedicated as Jeannie was to Jane, the maid was even more naïve to city ways than her mistress. How was he to go about his business not knowing if they were safe? He opened his eyes and quietly cursed.

How long would it be before others knew of their vulnerable, unchaperoned position? He couldn't give a damn of other people's opinion on the matter, but the risk to their safety scratched at his stomach like sharpened claws.

Footsteps along the hardwood floor of the hallway pulled him up straight. The murmured voices of Jane and Simmons drifted through the open drawing room door before Jane appeared at the threshold. She briefly glanced at him before firmly shutting the door, closing them alone in the room.

She stood with her back to him, her tension clear in the high set of her shoulders and her grip on the door handle. At last, she turned and came toward him, her gaze on his. “Jeannie managed to find some tea things in the kitchen. Would you like some?”

“I would, thank you. I'd better then make my way to the hotel.”

“Where are you staying?”

“The Francis Private Hotel.”

She visibly stiffened.

He frowned. “Is that a problem?”

“I didn't expect you to be staying quite so close.”

He arched his eyebrow. “Does it matter?”

“Only in that the hotel is within mere walking distance and, judging by your amused expression, the fact pleases you immensely.”

“You're being unreasonable.”

“Am I?” She swept past him and flounced onto the settee.

“Yes. I booked the hotel over a week ago. Days before I learned of your coming to Bath.”

She plucked at something on her skirts. “I only have your word for that.”

“Well, what other word is there? Do you really think I would intentionally put myself in your path when I am clearly not welcome?”

She snapped her head up, her eyes bright with anger. “Yes, I do, actually. Why else would you agree to tea tomorrow afternoon? Katy can be one of the most tiresome people I know, yet you want to spend time with her when I gave you a clear avenue of escape. Why would you do that if not to cast your imagined authority over me?”

He huffed out a laugh, annoyed she had so plainly seen through his agenda. “I thought you and Jeannie might welcome the company. That is all. If you do not wish me to be there—”

“What is done is done. We will take tea with Katy tomorrow. Thereafter, you will go about your business and I mine. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” Yet, the notion of tomorrow being the last time he'd see her for goodness knew how long struck the most inexplicable feeling of loss through Matthew's chest. What in God's name was going on with him?

She gave a curt nod and gazed around the room, her shoulders slumping. “This room is depressing.”

“It is.” He pushed away from the mantel and took a walk around the room's circumference before coming to a stop behind the settee. He glanced at her turned cheek and suddenly longed to leap inside her mind to discover her thoughts and feelings. How much longer did she intend to stretch this tension between them? It was ludicrous when they had so fully understood and respected each other before these last infuriating few days.

He had to find a way to provoke her into talking to him with a modicum of the friendliness he had always known from her. Now that it had vanished, he realized how much he'd missed it in the months since Elizabeth left. “Are you not afraid for you and Jeannie staying here alone?”

“Afraid? Why should I be afraid?” She turned, and her eyes shone with excitement. “This is what I want. I want to be free to come and go as I wish. To stay up late without the fear of knowing my mother might call out to me the moment I begin to fall asleep. To know I can arise in the morning and come down to breakfast in my nightgown if I so choose. What is there to be afraid of?”

Words lodged in his throat as the image of Jane dressed in only a nightgown rushed into his mind and stirred imaginings that he had no right to think about.

He cleared his throat. He should be thinking of muggers, burglars, thieves, and vagrants, not Jane in a cotton nightgown and naked underneath.

“What of the dangers?” He cleared his throat and walked toward the fire Simmons had lit. He stared into the flames, desperately trying to control the inexplicable desire rushing through his blood. “Have you not considered how exposed you and Jeannie will be living here alone?” He forced his gaze to hers. “Were things really that unbearable at Marksville?”

She stared at him, her face somber and her eyes dark with sadness.

Matthew frowned as concern rippled through him. He came toward her and lowered into an overstuffed armchair beside her. “Jane?”

“I won't allow myself to be afraid. Not anymore. I am equally as capable as Monica of forging my own destiny. I care for people, Matthew, that's what I do. To love and care for others is who I am, who I want to be.”

She reached up and plucked at the pins holding her hat in place, and Matthew stared at her pretty, auburn tresses as they cascaded in thick waves over her shoulders. His fingers itched to touch the strands, just to discover if they were as soft as they looked. He snatched his gaze to the carpet and clasped his hands together.

These new and terrifying urges had to stop. This was Jane. Albeit,
his
Jane. Not in a romantic way . . . they were friends. Had always been friends.

He slowly exhaled. “Everyone knows the depth and breadth of your heart. Everyone. Your ability to care for people is not in question. Never has been.”

“Then why do I go on searching to do more? To be more?” Her eyes stormed with frustration. “I am a good person, but being in Biddestone was bringing me down. Changing me into someone I don't wish to become.” She stood and strode across the room to face the window. “Bath is full of new people, new ideas, and new opportunities.” She faced him. “I could be happy here, and I don't need you with me to do that.”

He frowned. What was she saying? She didn't want him to talk to her? Acknowledge her in the street? “Do you want me to make myself a stranger to you? Is that it?” A surge of frustration burst.

She stared, her expression unreadable.

He stood. “I will take your silence as affirmation.”

He waited for her gaze to soften, to give him a small sign their friendship hadn't died through some unspoken cause. Nothing came.

“Good-bye, Jane.” He walked toward her and lifted her hand, pressing a lingering kiss to her bare knuckles. “Take care.”

He dropped her hand and strode from the room, confusion and a horrible sense of fear slowing his steps. Jane was his comfort. His support. His friend. What had he done—or not done—to ruin her trust and friendship? He stood in the hallway and turned back to the drawing room door. No, he would not harangue her. She would be fine here. She had friends and acquaintances all over the city.

Taking his hat from the stand in the hallway, Matthew looked toward the kitchen at the end of the corridor. “Simmons? We're leaving.”

Jane appeared at the drawing room door, her cheeks flushed and her beautiful hazel eyes wide.

He waited.

She came closer until she stood barely a foot away from him. She plucked a piece of lint from his lapel before placing her hand against the same spot. Her gaze traveled the length and breadth of his face before she met his eyes. “Tea. We'll have tea with Katy tomorrow.”

Relief whispered through him as Matthew fought to keep his face impassive. “You are certain you want me there?” His heart beat hard under the warmth of her palm. “I did not come with you to be in your way. I want you safe and happy. That is all.”

She nodded. “I know.”

Simmons appeared from the kitchen, his boots thudding along the wooden floor. Jane flinched and stepped back. The warmth from her touch lingered on Matthew's chest as he donned his hat. “Until tomorrow then.”

She nodded, her smile tight. “Until tomorrow.”

Matthew turned and moved toward Simmons as he waited at the open front door.

The door clicked closed behind them before they'd even boarded the carriage.

J
ane waited with her back to the front door until the crunch of Matthew's carriage wheels faded and only then, released her held breath. Opening her eyes, she took a step forward and gripped a side table, her heart thundering. It had been foolish to storm from the drawing room and chase after him. How on earth would he interpret her actions now that she'd demonstrated such desperation?

Closing her eyes, she pressed her thumb and forefinger into her brow.

If he hadn't guessed her feelings ran deeper than friendship before, he certainly would now.

“Miss Jane? Is everything all right?”

Jane snapped her eyes open and straightened as Jeannie hurried toward her, concern etched on her face. Jane forced a smile, raising her hand in an effort to placate Jeannie's worry. “I am quite all right. A little weakened from Miss Wrexford's tirade, maybe.” She took Jeannie's elbow and steered her toward the kitchen. “Did you manage to find some tea?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then that is all I need to settle me. Come.”

The kitchen wasn't much brighter than the drawing room. Jane sighed as she looked about her. “First, we'll get to know Bath a little better, then we'll make some much-needed changes about the house.” She moved to the window. “Even some pretty fabric to hang at these windows would brighten things up a little. Don't you think?”

Jeannie wrapped a tea cloth around the handle of the kettle and lifted it from its place above the fire. “I do. I could even make some cushions for the kitchen chairs, and a good scrub of wax on that table will bring it back to its proper glory.”

“It's all about a woman's touch. This place has my father written all over it. As much as I might have loved him, the house is mine now, and I wish to make it feel that way.”

They sat at the small kitchen table until dusk fell and the room was lit by flickering lamps and candles, the fire slowly dying down. Jane looked at Jeannie's heavy eyelids and slowly slumping shoulders. “Why don't you go to bed? There are three bedrooms, with the biggest at the front. I'll take that one, but you can choose which of the other rooms you prefer.”

“Are you sure, miss?”

Jane lifted her eyebrows and feigned annoyance. “It's Jane from now on, remember? And of course I am. Now go. Tomorrow we will venture into town and see if we cannot fill some of these pitifully bare cupboards.”

Jeannie splayed her hands on the table and heaved to her feet. “I will see to the drawing room fire and lamps on my way up.”

“Thank you. See you in the morning.”

As Jeannie's footsteps receded along the hallway, Jane exhaled and leaned back in her chair, her gaze falling to the dying embers in the grate. Matthew had looked so angry when she spoke of her irritation with him staying at a hotel so close by. On retrospect, she couldn't blame him.

It was her fault she had spent years loving a man despite him giving her little indication of anything more than mutual respect and fondness between them. Was it Matthew's fault he hadn't reciprocated her feelings? That he chose to marry a woman far better connected and more beautiful than her?

A resounding
no
yelled unceremoniously in her head.

At the sound of Jeannie climbing the stairs, Jane silently admonished herself, collected their teacups and saucers, and walked to the sink.

She would do all she could tomorrow to make her and Matthew's final hours together, for what she predicted to be several weeks, as amicable as possible. He didn't deserve her brashness or snappish behavior. He genuinely cared about her. Of that much Jane could be certain. She smiled softly as she ran water from the tap.

It made her heart stumble to see flashes of the old Matthew throughout the day, even if parts of him might have been forever extinguished by Elizabeth's infidelity. Above all else, Jane wanted him to be happy, and those flashes had given her hope that one day he would be.

A low flame of positivity flickered in her abdomen, and she quickly washed, dried, and returned the crockery to the spartan cupboards. There would be plenty of time to fill and rearrange the house to make it fully hers, but for now, a night's rest beckoned.

 

The next morning Jane woke from a somewhat fitful sleep. Dreams of Matthew, both angry and then loving, had harangued her throughout the night. When she wasn't dreaming of Matthew, she was abruptly woken by the unfamiliar shouts and noises outside her window. It would take her weeks to grow accustomed to the constant stream of city sounds that penetrated her windows after years of living in the quiet countryside.

Lifting aside the covers, Jane pushed up onto her bottom and stretched her arms high above, breathing deep. Beyond the undraped window, the early morning mist had dispersed to leave a bright, azure blue sky, the sun's low rays casting a white beam of light toward her.

This was the first new day of the rest of her life.

Excitement pulsed through her as she rose from the bed and reached for her dressing gown from the back of a wooden chair. She put it on and walked to the door, tying the sash at her waist before emerging from her room onto the landing. She paused, straining her ears toward Jeannie's room.

The
clang
of crockery and the scuffing of shoes downstairs drifted toward her. Jane smiled. Clearly, it would take time for Jeannie to adjust from her morning ritual of rising at the crack of dawn.

Humming softly, Jane walked downstairs and along the chilly hallway into the kitchen. A fire burned brightly in the grate and the table was already set for breakfast. The aroma of toast and eggs filled the small kitchen.

“I assume you have been out already today, Jeannie?”

The young girl flinched before spinning around from the sink, her soapy hand on her chest. “Oh miss. You startled me.”

Jane smiled and lowered herself into one of the four chairs around the table. “This breakfast looks wonderful. Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Jeannie dried her hands and put the towel on the counter before sliding into the seat opposite Jane. “I just nipped along the road and found a lady selling bread and eggs out of her front door. I suppose now we're in the city, we'll find everything we need in the blink of an eye.”

“I expect we will.” Jane picked up the teapot and filled their cups. “Which is why I plan to dress as soon as possible and get outside into that beautiful sunshine. I can't imagine we'll have many more days of the weather looking so inviting.”

“No, miss . . .” Jeannie flushed. “Jane.”

“I had a thought during the night. Would you like to join Matthew and me for tea at the Pump Room this afternoon?”

Jeannie's eyes widened. “Me? Oh no. I haven't anything nice enough to wear. I would be ashamed, truly. You go with Squire Cleaves. I will be quite all right puttering around here. I could make a start with some cleaning, if you like.”

“The last thing I want is for you to go on with your usual duties.” Jane frowned. “You've already seen to my breakfast as you normally would.”

“I don't mind. You said this whole adventure is going to take some time to get used to.”

Jane sighed. “Fine. You do as you please today, but during the week, we are going shopping. I want to buy you some new dresses, maybe even some nice new boots too. How would that be?”

Jeannie grinned. “That would be just lovely. Thank you.”

“I'll look forward to it.” Jane bit into her toast. “You'll feel like my companion rather than my maid in no time, just you wait and see.”

They drank their tea in silence before Jane looked up to find Jeannie watching her with clear concern in her eyes.

Jane lowered her cup to its saucer. “What's the matter?”

“I hope I'm not talking out of turn . . .”

“Say whatever it is that's worrying you. I want you to be happy here.”

Jeannie exhaled and her words came in a rush. “I was worried about you after your little stumble when the squire left yesterday.”

Jane's cheeks warmed and she took another sip of her tea. “Well, there is no need for you to fret over that a moment longer. I am quite well now.” She cleared her throat. “Aren't you going to have some toast?”

Jeannie shook her head. “I ate a while ago. I've been up since six.”

“I did wonder what time you came downstairs. You'll soon get used to rising later. I'll make sure of it. Why don't you take your tea to your room and get ready? Once I've finished my breakfast, I'll clear everything away. The sooner we get outside, the better.”

“Thank you.” Jeannie stood. “Then I'll come and help you get dressed.”

“You'll do no such thing. We start as we mean to go on, which means I will dress myself as I often did at Marksville. You are my companion now, my friend, and until either of us marries, long may we stay that way.”

Jeannie sniggered. “Imagine me married.” Her eyes lit with happiness. “How would you think a soldier would suit me? Or maybe an inventor with ideas that will change the country?”

Jane laughed. “Either would be lucky to have you. Now, go on, off you go.”

Still smiling, Jane hurriedly finished her breakfast and tidied the kitchen before returning to her bedroom. She dressed as quickly as a lone woman could, without her maid's dexterity to aid her, before finishing her chosen attire with a straw hat, bound with a green silk ribbon. Happy with her reflection, she took her drawstring purse from the dresser and made her way downstairs.

Jeannie was waiting by the door, a shopping basket over her arm.

Jane held her arms out either side of her. “See? Perfectly able.”

Jeannie laughed. “Indeed you are.”

Linking her arm through Jeannie's, Jane led the way out the door and closed it behind them. Plans to go to the market had fully taken hold, and now the excitement of the sounds and sights she would experience hastened Jane's steps as she and Jeannie walked down the steeply sloping streets into the hubbub of the town's center.

What better way to learn the true ways of the city than to spend time with the people who lived here permanently, rather than mere visitors for the Season's attractions?

She and Jeannie nodded good morning to the people they passed, and when they reached the boutique shops on Milson Street, Jane purposefully drew her gaze away from the tempting textiles and fancy ornaments for sale. The opportunity to redecorate the house had to come second to her and Jeannie being fed.

They bought some apples and pears, a fresh loaf of bread and a pot of homemade jam, some tea leaves, eggs, and flour. As Jane perused an array of cut-off cloth for new cushion covers, there was a delicate tap on her shoulder. She turned and delight rushed through her. “Goodness, Laura! It's so lovely to see you.”

Laura grinned. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“I'm shopping. You remember Jeannie, don't you?”

“Of course. How are you, my lovely?”

Jeannie smiled. “I'm good. How are you?”

Laura dropped her basket at her feet. “All the better for seeing the two of you. Come here and give me a cuddle.”

Jane dropped her basket and embraced one of Monica's dearest friends. “It's so lovely to see you.”

At the tuts and huffs and shoving shoulders around them, Laura picked up her basket and Jane's and tossed a scowl at a buxom woman beside them. “Here. Let's move away from this lot before we get shoved to the ground.”

Laughing at Laura's no-nonsense ways of dealing with everything and everyone, Jane and Jeannie followed her away from the crowd to a quieter spot at the side of the busy square.

“So . . .” Laura placed their baskets on the short wall beside them. “What on earth are you doing here? I wouldn't expect to see you here this time of year. Is Monica with you?”

“No. It's just me and Jeannie.” Jane grinned, hearing every ounce of pride in her words.

Laura raised her eyebrows. “Just the two of you? Are you mad?”

“What do you mean? We're as entitled as the next person to live here as we see fit, are we not?”

“I'm not talking about Jeannie so much as you.” She sent an apologetic smile toward Jeannie. “I don't mean that unkindly, you understand. It's just that you are a bit more aware of the ways of the world than our Miss Jane here.”

Jane feigned indignation. “I'm standing right here, you know.”

“I know you are and as bold as brass with it too.” Laura frowned. “You don't know these streets or what people are capable of. I've lived here most of my life. I've fought and paid for what I have from one week to the next. You can't compare that to what you know.”

“And look at you now. You have made a wonderful life for yourself, and so did Monica when she was here. Oh Laura, please don't look at me that way. If you doubt me, then how on earth will I ever convince anybody else I know what I'm doing?”

“And do you?”

“Of course. Jeannie and I will look after one another, won't we?”

Jeannie nodded. “Of course we will. In Jane's defense, she might even know Bath better than me, considering I spent the majority of my time in the village.”

Laura lifted an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to make me worry less for the pair of you?”

Jane cursed the nerves in her stomach as her shaky confidence wavered once more. “I've left Marksville. I want to try my hand at an independent life. Surely you, of all people, won't judge me on that?”

“Left Marksville? But why?”

“It was time.” Jane stared past Laura's shoulder, avoiding her astute and canny gaze. “There's nothing for me in Biddestone anymore.”