Chapter 28 Jahleel—Bedtime Stories
JAHLEEL—BEDTIME STORIES
At five minutes to ten, a confident knock sounds from my closet.
Sitting by the fireplace, I wait, finish drinking my tea, and then rise.
Slow, steady steps take me to my closet, and then to the connecting door.
“Jahleel?” Katherine’s voice vibrates the wood.
My heart races. I’ve avoided her all day, unable to witness the pity in her countenance. It can be nothing else, for nothing has changed. I’m still fighting for time, no matter how much of a fool I am for her.
“Coming,” I say, and allow her to enter.
Jasmine fragrance hits my nostrils as I witness the vision of shapeliness, curves, and color.
Her hair is down with braids in the back, and loose curls in the front shine with a tinge of purple highlighted by the sconce’s light.
The modiste’s design, a sleek night rail and robe, fits Katherine like a dinner glove.
The satin and lace cinch her waist and show off her hips, every curve as if she’s gift-wrapped in pink paper.
Blessedly, she has on thick stockings and slippers as she prances across the ryas on the floor.
“Why is this locked, Jahleel?”
“Steele must’ve …” Followed my orders. “Sorry.”
Her lips pout, and she eyes me with skepticism. “I’ve come for our reading. Have to see how Darcy fares. Rejection is brutal.”
Her soft, humble tone implies some understanding of the misunderstood man. But that can’t be. Katherine hasn’t proposed anything new that I’ve rejected. We’re still working our plan.
Yet the lift of her head and the squaring shoulders indicate preparations for battle.
But I’m tired of war. “Mr. Steele’s brought the latest spouse list.”
“Let’s review it together,” she says, leaning against the door. Her robe flits open, giving a better view of the present inside.
“Nyet.” I blink and come out of the rusalka’s trance. “I’m a little tired. Perhaps we can review the list of eligible widowers and then retire for the evening. No reading to me tonight.”
“Changing rules. Don’t.” She comes closer and puts a hand on my thudding chest. “I know what this is about. Sorry I interrupted you this morning.”
Scarlett must’ve told her.
Sobered, I head out of the closet and pretend I heard nothing. “Did you have a nice day? I heard you didn’t leave Anya House.”
Katherine glides to me, snaking her way to my side. “I hoped to see you, to talk. Instead, I spent time with Lydia. She’s enjoying her lessons.”
“Our daughter is bright, but what of Wilcox Coal?”
“It carried on without me. Thom’s sons are driving the drays. They’ve had no trouble. And thank you for having runners trail them.”
My smirk gives away my pleasure at borrowing a little assistance from the magistrate. “I’m glad you don’t feel I’m overstepping or intruding on your business.”
“It’s welcomed. I want the young men safe.”
This near, smelling delightful, she appears prim and proper. Yet my palms sweat.
“What if you, Lydia, and I go for a drive tomorrow?”
“Won’t that confuse her?”
“Confuse Lydia? I think she’ll like seeing her parents getting along.” Katherine’s fingers slip beneath my robe to my starched nightshirt. Her aim is too accurate, too stealthy. She wedges her hand against my button placard and quickens my heart.
“Wow. That’s beating hard.”
“Guess I’m happy to see you.”
Suddenly, she’s pulling me into her silky embrace. “Let me help you to bed.”
“Like before, Katia?”
“On our wedding trip after we’d consecrated our vows. Or the bath when you recovered?”
“Which one to choose? But things will change when I fall ill and can’t pretend. That changes everything.”
“You’re not sick. And if you were sick, there’s no reason to pretend that you aren’t.” She waves her hands. “Enough of the past. Tomorrow, a drive in the sun will be good for us.”
“Unless Scarlett finds a cure, I will be sick again. Cossack vows say nothing of sickness and health.”
“Then we should marry again in London with English vows. Or you could just admit that we are still married.”
“So what was Tavis? The wedding I failed to stop at St. George’s—some laudanum dream?”
There’s something on her face, a look that makes my whole soul ache. I sit on my bed, reach for the Palmerses’ latest note, demanding I admit that Katherine committed bigamy, and hand it to her. “That would mean you are or were indeed married to two men at once.”
“If I’d known we weren’t divorced, I would not’ve married him.”
My brow goes up, and I squint at her. “Truly? He was safe, somewhat. Healthy for the most part. And he did love you.”
“He loved me?” She hugs me, holding me as I lean against the edge of my gilded headboard. “Thank you for saying that, Jahleel. I don’t remember anymore. His parents’ anger, and now their demands, make me forget the friendship we all had.”
We didn’t include me. “Tavis’s parents are even less friendly now.”
She reads the note and crumples the parchment. “They’ve written me at the office. They want Wilcox Coal and my father’s house, too.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Make love with you and not think of anything else.”
My heart pounds. “Be serious, Katia.”
“Well, I can’t give them my father’s legacy.” Her gaze sweeps to the mattress. “But with all that’s going on, perhaps it would be enough to be at peace. To sit in Anya’s library with Lydia. To be here with you and not think about people hurling insults at coal wagons.”
This isn’t Katherine. She’s not this defeated creature. “Command me to fight for you. Let me solve the problem.”
Her fingers are in my hair. “Nyet. This is my fault. It’s more I have to pay.”
“But Wilcox Coal is not just yours. Scarlett and Georgina and Lydia are all heirs.”
She shakes her head. “None of them care for it. They remind me of how I’ve wasted my life defending it. My stubbornness almost cost them their happiness.”
“Then let me intervene.”
“You’ve done enough. I have to see this through.”
“Just like my fight here in London?” I smile at her, thankful that this talk has cooled the heat in my blood. “We are at cross-purposes again. One of us will always decide what the other should or shouldn’t do.”
She gulps air like my words have trampled her breath. But that is what truth does. Its light exposes our strengths and weaknesses and the awful facts of why our feelings will never overcome the things that divide our souls.
Sitting at my table far from the bed, Katherine examines the list of potential spouses compiled by Mr. Steele that I’d handed her.
“Mrs. Delrine has been widowed. She’s younger than me and has two young sons. She could be an excellent broodmare for you.”
I sit back against the headboard, looking up at the painted ceiling. “Are the boys older than Lydia or younger?”
“Older. Ten and eight.”
“Strike her from the list. I don’t want Lydia harassed by older stepsiblings. Who’s next?”
Katherine nods. “I agree. That could be a problem. The top of my list is the Marquess of Tramel. Seems he’s had a number of wives.”
“But his son, Lord Gantry, just found his wife again. I believe that means they love happy endings.”
Her creamy shoulder becomes visible. The brown freckles on her olive skin are like Lydia’s. Sweet. But in this situation I hunger to connect these dots. I remember how they led newlyweds on a night of exploration.
She tucks a curl behind her ear. The movement shifts her robe and exposes the crests of her bosom. Katherine is more beautiful—or as Darcy would say, one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance.
“Jahleel, your expression has changed?”
I reach for her face. Then let go, my fingertips trailing her chin.
“Are you in pain?” she asks. “Is that what’s wrong?”
I draw my hand away. “Will I always be frail to you, Katia?”
“What? Jahleel, I merely inquired—”
“About my health? About begrudgingly letting me be of aid.” I blow out all the air in my chest. “Sorry. Let’s examine this list and catch ourselves new mates.”
“Yes. New spouses. Perhaps the four of us will play cards on a regular basis. Our new children, step-siblings to Lydia, will think it all normal.”
She can play crazy. I can be insane. “I’ll have Steele plan a ball for the end of the month. We can start everyone meeting then.”
“That’s too soon. And you promised to throw a party for Lydia for her belated birthday.”
“Then it shall serve as both. Steele can have Anya House transformed in no time. No more waiting for anything.” I offer her a grin. “We shall be transformed.”
“With the Palmerses and protestors causing problems, is this the right time?” She glares at me. “But my opinion doesn’t matter. My words either. I’m just the bigamist liar.”
“Misery loves company. I’m a neutered schemer. But I like your company. And I want our future feckless four to be friends. And I will only remember the good things about the two of us. No more bad.”
Her smile returns, with her cheeks blooming like a choice rose. “Then kiss me now. Seal this new promise with a kiss.”
“Is it wise, Katia, to get another taste of you before the next disaster strikes?”
“Take the risk. Gamble, Jahleel.” She rises from the chair and kneels next to mine. “I want you to gamble on us.”
Inches from a kiss, I hear a knock. “Papen’ka, can I see you?”
Katherine scrambles and returns to her chair.
Sighing, maybe groaning a little, I respond. “Yes, my Lidochka, come in.”
Lydia bursts inside. She runs to me, then stops. “Why is Katherine here? She has her own room.”
“Reading. She’s going to read to me, Lydia.”
My daughter frowns bigger. “The book is on the bed table. You two are over there.”
“We should tell her.” Katherine takes the folded paper and shows it to Lydia. “Your father and I are looking at names for potential suitors. He’s going to pick us each out new people to love.”
“You’re talking about marrying new people and not each other?” Her little face keeps shifting, glancing my way and her mother’s. “Why can’t you two be normal?”
“We are friends, Lidochka. That is normal. Don’t you want your mother and me to be friends?”
“Yes.” She shakes her head. “But you haven’t been friends before. And now you want more friends to be angry with?”
“Oh no, my child. We were once very good friends, more than friends. That’s why you’re here.”
She steps closer. “Has she been kissing on you? Lord Mark and Georgina are downstairs in the music room. They kiss when they don’t think anyone’s looking.”
“Well, they are very friendly,” Katherine says. Her cheeks are turning fiery red.
“But they are married,” Lydia insists. “You two going to marry someone else? That’s not normal.”
Katherine looks at me. “Our bright daughter has a point.”
I wave for Lydia to come closer. She puts her thumb on my forehead. “It’s dry. Guess no kisses. You don’t make her laugh like Tavis. He’d come back from visiting his parents looking wild, but he’d say something to make Katherine giggle. She’d kiss his forehead and send him to bed.”
“No. No laughter. We’ve been having serious conversations.” I take my daughter by the hand, lead her to my bed and snuggle her next to me under the covers. Then I wave to Katherine and hand her Pride and Prejudice. “Finish reading a chapter or two. That’s normal, a friend reading to friends.”
“Of course,” Katherine says. Her tone sounds resigned, even disappointed. Then she grins as she pulls up the bedclothes to Lydia’s chin. “You two look cozy.”
She begins to read and falls into character voices, to Lydia’s delight. Our child yawns and gets more comfortable. My Lidochka is precious. Katherine’s not looking at us—Lydia and me. Her countenance seems deeply drawn to the pages.
I understand wanting to protect her from shame or the actions of my enemies. This is why I can forgive her for most things.
Most, but maybe not all.
Katherine clearly wants to reconcile, and though I want her and have forgiven everything in the past, I don’t know how we work together.
And this little one. Lydia deserves a brother who will inherit my title and have the power to protect her. What would my father think if I gave up his legacy? There should be another Duke of Torrance, right?
Katherine makes more funny voices for Charlotte Lucas and her sister Maria. The way her lips part fascinates me. When she licks them, I feel an ache in my gut. Luckily, the fidgeting Lydia punches me in my stomach.
“Sorry, Papen’ka.” She hugs my neck. “You alright? I didn’t hurt you?”
I hold her tightly and hum until she settles. “Always good when you’re with me.”
Glassy-eyed, Katherine swallows hard.
My gaze strokes hers. The three of us are all so afraid of hurting. We have to live. “Your mother and I decided to throw a ball for your birthday.”
“A ball? Do I get to dress up like a Russian princess? Do I get a special wish?”
“Everything you want,” Katherine says. “Your father will make it happen.”
This tone sounds confident, but it is a lie. Why can’t she see the longing in my soul? It needs Katherine. I need her to believe that I can do anything, like make her happy and live.
Unlike Darcy, I’m not writing an explanation of my actions. The woman I love should know who the hell I am. I’ll manage my struggles alone until I can’t get out of this bed.