Chapter 29

CHAPTER29

“What in heaven’s name are you doing?” Edwin growled, his rage spiking in a way it had not done in years. Not for a decade, to be exact.

Jane wriggled in his lap, trying to pin down the arms that strived to throw her from him. “Do not be coy, Your Grace. I know you desire me. I have seen you observing me, and you have been so attentive and charming these past few days. You have all but invited me to seduce you.”

Shedding the last of his courteousness, he seized her by the wrists and shoved her as hard as he could. She toppled straight off the lap she had clambered into as he had dozed, exhausted from spending his nights holding vigil at his wife’s bedside, and landed on her back with a thud. Her eyes narrowed in anger as she pushed herself up.

“I have invited nothing,” Edwin seethed. “Wherever I have tried to find peace, you have intruded. Wherever I have desired to seek solitude, you have buzzed around me like a wasp at a picnic. Why are you here in this library? You should not be here. No one gave you permission.”

Jane sneered. “I do not need permission. I wanted to read, and you happened to be here, and do not pretend you were unaware of my presence. I have seen gentlemen “pretend” to be asleep before. You wanted me to kiss you.”

“I would rather follow my brother and jump into the river!” Edwin shot back, appalled. His skin crawled where she had touched him, his lips soiled where she had attempted to press her mouth to his. “You are delusional, Miss Russell! These past days, you have thrown yourself at me, and I have done my best to be polite. Why, any gentleman would be suspicious of your intentions when you keep fainting and having “clumsy” accidents. Yet, I thought I had made myself clear enough by telling you, time and again, that I love my wife!”

Ever since the incident with the thistle from his watch fob, Jane had been relentless, as if him accepting what already belonged to him had been some kind of invitation for her to bother him. She had fallen in front of him, got her dress “caught” on nails and splinters, and had even almost drowned in the river while he had been walking by to check the water level after the recent storm. All of it a ruse; he was certain of that now.

Jane got to her feet and dusted off the seat of her dress. “And I have encountered too many husbands who say they love their wives, but that does not mean they will not take a lover.”

“Well, I would never take a lover!” Edwin insisted, balling his hands into fists to stop his anger from swelling into violence. “I love my wife, I love only my wife, and that ought to put an end to it. For goodness’ sake, we are related—you are repulsive for even thinking you could seduce me!”

Jane snorted. “Very distantly related. An acquaintance of mine married her cousin—there is no shame in it.”

“There is every shame in it, when you seek to corrupt the marriage of a very happily married man. Indeed, when you would seek to kiss a man who is sleeping! It is vile, Miss Russell, utterly vile,” Edwin retorted, disgusted by the sight of the woman standing in front of him, grinning like she had done nothing wrong.

Confusion darkened Jane’s arrogant expression. “You are quite serious…”

“Of course I am!” Edwin stood up. “I have aided you throughout your performances because I was afraid you would hurt yourself, and as I thought you were my wife’s friend, I did not want you to be hurt. It had nothing to do with you, and everything to do with her—the woman I love.”

Jane’s mouth opened and closed, as if she wished to say more, but could not.

“You will gather your belongings in the morning and leave as soon as it is light,” Edwin continued, boiling with outrage. “I can agree to keep this unpleasantness from my aunt, for the sake of what meager dignity you have left and so as not to upset my aunt, but that is the only generosity you will receive from me. If you do not leave, I will inform her of everything you have done these past few days—all the silliness that might have destroyed my marriage.”

Jane stared down at the floor, her cheeks flushing a violent shade of red. “You should not encourage ladies who enact such “silliness,” as you call it.”

“I did not encourage you, and I will not repeat myself. I have explained, and if you will not hear me, then I suggest you seek out a physician who will clean out your blasted ears!” he barked, struggling to suppress his fury. What gave her the audacity to suggest he had encouraged her? If he had thought Joanna would not be angry, he would have left Jane to struggle through her performances and deliberate accidents.

Jane shuffled awkwardly, kicking her toe against the parquet floor. “You swear you will not tell Peggy what has occurred?”

“I will say nothing, as long as you are out of my sight by the time I awaken,” he replied. “I do not care what excuse you make to my aunt but ensure it does not cast either myself or my wife in a bad light. If you have any hope of finding a husband for yourself, you will do as you are told, exactly as you are told.”

She glared up at him. “Yet, it is you who ruined my chances anyway.”

“It was not my decision for you to become my aunt’s companion. As you said, you are a distant relative of mine—distant enough that you would have been untouched by the rumors surrounding me. Nevertheless, as my status in society continues to improve, so will your prospects, so be grateful that I am not seeking revenge for this wickedness,” he scolded, speaking in a voice that sounded so very like his father’s that it chilled him.

Fear flickered in her eyes as she dipped into a feeble, almost mocking curtsy. “I will leave, as you have asked.”

“Ensure that you do,” he snarled, as Jane rushed off, as if vicious hounds were at her heels. Whether or not she would do as she was asked remained to be seen, but he sensed that she was not quite stupid enough to disobey him, not with her entire future and prospects resting upon his silence.

Still appalled, Edwin gazed into the roaring fire and wished it could cleanse him of the filth that seemed to cover his body, his entire being uneasy. All he had wanted was a brief nap to restore his strength, and that wretched woman had turned it into the worst possible nightmare. To make it even worse, he had been dreaming of Joanna when Jane had tried to kiss him, so he had not awoken as quickly as he should have done; he had thought it was his wife and hated that Jane had stolen something so sacred from his lips.

Reaching across to the side table, he picked up a small bell and rang it—something he rarely did.

Before long, Golding came running in his nightshirt and housecoat, clearly thinking that the manor must be on fire or that there were intruders in the midst of a robbery.

“Your Grace?” Golding halted, wearing a half-awake, bemused expression. “Is all well? Did I hear the bell or was I dreaming?”

Edwin expelled a stale breath. “You heard the bell. I should like a bath drawn.”

“Now?” Golding gasped, gaining a harsh look from Edwin. “Of course, Your Grace. Right away. I shall… summon Mrs. Hislop.”

Edwin nodded. “Thank you, Golding.”

The manservant lumbered away, running a hand through his messy hair, trying to flatten the spiky locks as he headed off in search of Mrs. Hislop. Edwin already knew that the housekeeper would have questions, but she would have to be satisfied with his silence, for if Edwin could, he would take the evening’s events to the grave with him. He just hoped he would be able to wash away the dirt of it with a hot enough bath. Scalding, if possible.

* * *

With skin as pink as a boiled lobster, Edwin walked to the chamber that adjoined his wife’s in a daze, for he had bathed too long and steamed his mind into a strange sort of stupor. Anything to forget what had happened. Anything to dispel the curse that he was certain still clung to the manor, for Jane had never acted that way before; it was only after Edwin’s happiness had reached new peaks that she had turned into an insidious seducer, as if possessed.

Despite a desperation to sleep and not disturb his wife, Edwin moved toward the door that had been scraped clean of paint, so it could open once more onto the adjoining bedchamber. If Joanna had not been unwell, he would have shared her bed. Instead, he had spent every night in the armchair at her bedside, listening to the sound of her breathing, changing the damp compresses on her brow whenever the fever warmed them too much, and just talking to her though she could not hear him.

Opening the door, he peered into Joanna’s chambers. She lay curled up, exactly where he had left her, though it appeared she had turned onto her side. He considered going to her and coaxing her onto her back, so she could breathe better, but abandoned the notion. It might awaken her and, at that moment, he did not want to have to face her, for he knew he would tell her the truth, and he feared her response.

“I will tell you in the morning,” he whispered, blowing a kiss. “Good night, my love. Rest well.”

With a heavy heart, he closed the door between them and padded over to his own bed. Shedding his clothes, he slipped under the coverlets and stared up at the ceiling, willing sleep to come. In the morning, with Jane gone, all would seem better.

I have done nothing wrong, he told himself, but the scalding bath had not quite rid him of the dirty feeling that itched across his skin, nor had it relieved him of the strange unease that set his nerves on edge, as if something even worse was about to happen.