Chapter 12

CHAPTER12

The Duke was not home all morning. Jane knew she shouldn’t care where he was. She wished she had somewhere to go as well, but she didn’t. She did not feel the need to go home and visit her parents. Their relationship was still strained, and she feared it would remain such for a while longer. Until it was rectified, if such a thing was even possible, Jane felt that the only place where she could stay was Dunton Estate.

Come to think of it, it was not a bad place to find oneself stuck in. The servants were polite and kept to themselves although once she needed them, they always seemed to be at an arm’s reach. She had no idea how the Duke managed to arrange that, or if he was simply fortunate enough to stumble onto good people who liked working for him as much as he liked having them work for him.

She decided that she would take one of the history books from the library and read a little in the garden. She had some tea brought to her. The servant girl placed everything on a small, wrought iron table which was painted pristine white and blended into the lush greenery perfectly. She proceeded to pour the tea for Jane, leaving some more in the teapot. Next to it, she left some napkins, along with a tray of scones which were Jane’s favorite.

“Thank you,” Jane beamed at the sweet girl, who curtsied politely and then disappeared, leaving Jane to enjoy the afternoon on her own, her only company a good book.

But the moment she opened it, she heard footsteps behind her. She thought that perhaps Helena, the servant girl, had returned, having forgotten something, but upon listening more intensively to the sound, Jane realized that they did not belong to a woman at all. They were too strong, too loud, too masculine. She knew who they belonged to even before she turned around.

“A nice day to be outside,” he told her, still standing behind her.

“You should know just as much as I do,” she told him, slowly lifting her gaze from the book. She wanted him to think that he interrupted her, that she was extremely focused on her book although she was nowhere near.

He smiled. “I was out but not really outside,” he corrected her.

She shrugged, looking back down at her book then he surprised her with his next question.

“May I join you?” His question lingered between them.

“Why?” she asked although that question wasn’t meant for him. It was meant for herself. She had no idea why he was trying so much. The brewery was his. Technically, it was still hers as well, but if something was to happen, she was certain that it would be easily arranged so that he would get them both, and she would be left with nothing.

“Why?” he echoed her question back to her, seeming amused. “Because we can still have a pleasant, normal conversation together.”

“But nothing about this,” she stopped to gesture vaguely around her with her hands, “has been normal. I do not expect our conversations to be such either.”

“I can agree with that,” he nodded, much to her surprise. “But… we could perhaps have some tea together?”

She hesitated. It was almost as if she thought that he had some hidden agenda, and she wanted to find out what it was. Only, she would not be able to discover it unless she kept him close. One was supposed to keep one’s friends close but one’s enemies even closer. That was what she had read somewhere.

Then… he is my enemy? She wondered to herself.

She wasn’t certain. Surely a man who forced a lady to marry him could not be considered her friend. However, he also promised her she would be safe here. He promised her that no harm would ever befall her, and somehow, she believed him. She had no reason to, other than the way he said it, the way he looked at her. She had never seen anyone speak with so much tenderness in his voice, with so much compassion.

She quickly banished the thought. She could not allow herself to feel weakness. Not in front of him.

“You may sit here if you wish,” she said, endeavoring to sound as disinterested as possible although his very presence made her knees weak. It was fortunate that she was already seated because her mind was flooded with images of the steamy dream she had about him and all the things they did, all the things she allowed him to do. Her cheeks blushed immediately.

He took a seat, and a few moments later, Helena came round again, bringing another cup of tea which she placed in front of him on the small table then she left them alone.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he explained, “but I told Helena upon my arrival to fetch another cup.”

That was before he even asked her whether it would be all right to join her. Out of the entire place, he had to sit with her. It both annoyed her as well as excited her. She remembered why she liked him so much the first night they met. He hadn’t changed a bit. He was still as devilishly handsome as before, even more so now for some inexplicable reason. And in addition to that, he was being diabolically charming as well. She could not stand it.

“You know, Mother and I used to do this when I was a little boy,” he said, leaning to take the teapot into his hands and then proceeding to pour himself a cup. He glanced at hers which was half empty. “Would you like more tea?”

“Oh, no,” she shook her head. “I still have some left.”

“All right,” he smiled, placing the teapot back. He leaned into the chair and gazed at the distance. “There was a beautiful flower patch there to your left. It was filled with roses of all sorts and colors. Mother loves roses, you see. Father wasn’t keen on any flowers. He simply liked whatever she liked.”

“Sounds like a good husband,” Jane felt a sudden urge to say, and before she could even regret saying it, they both smiled at each other.

“A good husband is the kind that agrees then?” he asked, sounding mischievous. She both loved it and loathed it when he did that.

“No,” she shook her head, deciding to be honest this time. “A good husband is the kind that knows when to agree and when to point out a mistake, offering an alternative; that is the proper manner of doing something.”

“So, the wife is not always right?” he asked curiously.

“Why would she be?” Jane asked.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Women tend to think they are more intelligent.”

“It has nothing to do with gender,” Jane explained. “Some people are just like that, whether male or female.”

He didn’t say anything to that at first as if he needed a moment or two to ponder on her words. He seemed to like them, much more than he was willing to admit. Then, she continued.

“Did you have anything else in the garden other than roses?” she inquired, taking her cup in her hand.

“Yes,” he nodded. “Over there.” He pointed in the distance. She wasn’t really certain where to look, but she looked, nonetheless. He leaned closer to her. “You need to get up; I’m not sure you can see those bushes from there.”

She did as she was told. She got up, but as she did so, she stepped on the hems of her gown which made her loose balance, and her entire cup flew right into his lap. He jumped up, allowing the cup to fall down to the ground, fortunately without breaking as it fell on the grass.

“Goodness!” she gasped loudly, pressing her hand to her lips, seeing the stain spread all over his lap, darkening his royal blue pants. “Are you all right!?”

She could not believe what she had done. She spilled tea all over his… his groin! She felt so embarrassed! She had no idea what to say, what to do… she just stood there motionless, frozen in time until his voice broke the spell, bringing her back to the present moment.

“It’s all right,” he assured her, looking down. “The tea has cooled a little, fortunately. Otherwise… I fear to think what could have happened,” he chuckled. She couldn’t believe that he had the will to joke at a time like this.

Frantically, she eyed the table and noticed the napkins by the plate. She grabbed them and without thinking, bowed down before him in an effort to blot out the stain with the napkins. She was doing that for a few moments when she finally realized what she was doing. She was touching his trousers. Worst of all, she was touching… him through his trousers. She could feel… him.

She instantly dropped the napkin and took a step back. She was mortified, even more embarrassed now of what she had just done, but that was only because she wasn’t thinking in the first place.

“I’m sorry,” she managed to muster, her voice down to a barely audible, embarrassed whisper. She couldn’t even imagine how red she must have been in the cheeks, how wide and shocked her eyes, her absolutely mortified entire being. There were no words she could express what she was feeling now as she stared at him, humiliated.

“I assure you… it’s fine,” he spoke softly, tenderly even. She had never heard him sound like that as if he were speaking to a child who believed they had transgressed terribly and would never receive dessert again. “The tea was lukewarm, coldish even. And you… you really helped,” he added, not certain whether he was supposed to talk about it or not.

Helped. The word echoed in her mind as she remembered how he felt underneath her fingers as she tried to blot the stain out.

Blot the stain out! She was furious with herself. What on earth was she thinking!

“I… I think I need to go back inside,” she mumbled confusedly, leaving the book on the table, turning away from him, and running back inside.

Now, she was more certain than ever that the two of them would never have a proper, normal conversation. How could they? After everything? After the forced marriage? After the way she touched him so inappropriately, and all she wanted was to help?

She felt so stupid and silly. She rushed back to her chamber and closed the door behind her. She leaned against it, as if reality might come after her, barging in through the door, demanding to be faced, to be accepted, while all she wanted was to run away from it all.

Her heart was beating wildly, her stomach had turned into a twisted tangle of knots. She had never been so embarrassed in her entire life. And yet… again… she touched him.

He reacted.

He smiled. She was certain that he was smiling. She could see that, during that one brief moment that she wasn’t aware of what exactly she was doing then it all went black. Reality fell upon her like a ton of bricks. She was touching his trousers.

She was overtaken by embarrassment, but at the same time, that same desire that appeared after her dream surfaced once more. She had no idea where it had been hiding or why it would appear in the most inopportune moment. But here it was, demanding to be acknowledged.

“No,” she whispered softly to herself, shaking her head. “It’s nothing. It’s nothing,” she kept repeating over and over again, hoping eventually, it would actually become the truth.