Chapter 15
The sound of rain hitting the windowpanes woke Elizabeth. She glanced at the window. By the dusky hue of the sky, she guessed it must be daybreak.
She yawned, stretched her fingers, and felt something delightfully warm. The heat of the skin beneath her cheek reminded her she wasn’t alone. She was in Jonathan’s room curled next to him as he slept peacefully beside her.
Cautiously, she raised her head from his chest and watched him sleep.
His tanned face had softened, and he looked more like the boy she’d loved instead of the man she’d hurt.
Her chest ached with the knowledge of the pain she’d put him through.
She’d never wanted to hurt Jonathan, only to protect him.
Last night had been wonderful, Elizabeth thought as she gingerly moved away from him, but she knew it wasn’t forever. She couldn’t expect it to last.
She loved Jonathan, of that much she was sure, but he hadn’t said one word about love to her when she’d told him how she felt. Thinking back on it now, in the light of day, that hurt.
The only thing he’d said was he wanted answers this morning.
She looked at Jonathan carefully, trying to read what was in his mind.
Elizabeth still hadn’t decided whether she would tell him the truth about Captain Lee, or lie and tell him she’d been married briefly to someone else.
If Jonathan knew that Dawson was Captain Lee’s child, would Jonathan hate Dawson?
The child looked nothing like Lee, thank goodness, but more like herself.
Still, the thought of Jonathan rejecting her child was unbearable.
Her mind whirled with questions. That old familiar panic raced through her like a raging fire. She had to do something before Jonathan woke up. But what? Should she quietly slip away or stay and face him?
Carefully easing herself from the bed, she looked for her clothes. They were all around the room and she blushed as she retrieved them, remembering the passion they had shared last night. She started to dress, then Jonathan gave a deep sigh and stretched.
Elizabeth held her breath.
Please don’t let him awaken, she prayed silently. I’m not ready yet.
When she could breathe again, she managed to get her dress partially hooked up the back. She turned to face the bed. All right, now that she was dressed, she was ready to answer his questions. She would start by telling Jonathan that she had a child which she’d named after his father.
No, that wouldn’t work, she realized. She had to prepare him. Maybe if she eased into the subject slowly...
Looking at his square jaw, she remembered how stubborn he could be.
Would he be able to accept the fact that she’d had another man’s child?
Would he be able to forgive her? What she really wanted to do was get down on her knees and beg.
Jonathan, please love me no matter what I’ve done in the past. I did it for you.
Her breath came so fast, Elizabeth felt as if she might faint. Then she remembered Jonathan’s words: If any other man touched you, I don’t know what I would do. I can’t bear to think of you with someone else.
She couldn’t do this.
She couldn’t face him.
Not now. Not until she was sure how Jonathan would react. Maybe later.
Turning, she very quietly eased her way to the door. She didn’t know what to do, but she couldn’t stay and answer questions. At least not now. She was terrified that her confession would destroy the fragile connection they’d made last night. She’d tell him later.
Later, her mind screamed. Always later.
As she eased out the door, it came to her. She would do what she always did when she was frightened and alone.
She would go home to Briercliff and Annie!
Annie would help her sort out her fears.
Annie would know what to do. And if Jonathan really loved her, he’d come after her.
That was the answer, Elizabeth told herself as she fled from Jonathan’s town house.
The rain still fell heavily as she stumbled down the steps, but she didn’t care.
She darted across the street to Trent House.
Sometime later, Jonathan rolled over and smiled contentedly. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so peaceful. How long had it been since he’d felt so rested?
The wonderful night of lovemaking with Elizabeth had everything to do with it. He would never get enough of her. He reached for her, but her place by his side was cold and empty.
His eyes sprang open and cold certainty grabbed hold of his stomach. He was in bed alone.
He sat up and scanned the room. Elizabeth was nowhere in sight, and her clothes were gone.
She was gone!
Would this nightmare ever end? Would Elizabeth constantly leave him without an explanation? She had said that she loved him; that much he remembered. If she had meant it, she had a damned strange way of showing it.
He slid from the bed, walked over to a chair, and retrieved his trousers. Had she lied? He wondered as he dressed. Why would she lie? He was puzzled, to say the least. If he could only figure out this game.
Before, he’d blamed Elizabeth’s leaving on his damaged arm. Now he couldn’t use that excuse.
Was there something else about him that she couldn’t abide? No, she wouldn’t have stayed with him last night if that were the case. There was something else that Elizabeth wasn’t telling him, and he had to know what it was.
Now!
He jerked on the rest of his clothes. He would go to Trent House and demand that Elizabeth give him the answers, even if he had to shake them out of her.
A loud knock sounded at his bedroom door just as he reached for the knob. Jonathan jerked it open. “What is it?”
Jeffrey was as white as a ghost. “Begging your pardon, sir,” he stammered awkwardly. He cleared his throat “But there are men downstairs demanding to see you right away.”
“Get rid of them,” Jonathan snapped, his voice lashing out at the old servant. “Where is Elizabeth?”
“I have not seen Lady Elizabeth. But these men are the police, and they have come for you,’’ Jeffrey persisted.
“Bloody hell,” Jonathan swore and swept past Jeffrey. “Why do they want me?” This morning was going straight to hell!
When Jonathan got to the lower level, he saw the three petty constables dressed in blue. He glared at them. “What is the meaning of this?” he said in a menacing tone that cut through the uncomfortable silence.
“You are under arrest for treason against the crown,” one of the constables announced.
“Treason?” Jonathan ground the word out between his teeth. He couldn’t have possibly heard the man correctly. “You must be mad. Do you know who I am?”
“Indeed, we do, my lord,” the bigger officer replied.
The three men spread out, surrounding Jonathan, as if they expected him to make a break for the door. The action only fueled his anger.
“You are the Earl of Longdale, and your father is the Marquess of Middlesex,” the husky officer said.
“Then explain yourself,” Jonathan demanded, his expression tight with strain. “How could I be charged with treason? That is utterly ridiculous.”
“The only thing we were told, my lord, is that you are charged with treason for fighting with the Americans in New Orleans. There is a witness who has come forth.”
Jonathan didn’t know what to say. A cold knot formed in his stomach.
Impatiently, he pulled his drifting thoughts together.
What if someone who knew him had seen him in New Orleans?
“This is utterly preposterous. I am outraged. I shall let your superiors know my feelings once we’re down at the station.
” He turned. “Allow me a moment to instruct my staff.”
They nodded.
Jonathan took Jeffrey by the arm. “Listen, let my father know what has happened and tell him it is not true, so he doesn’t have an attack over the news.
Send for the family barrister. Then go over to Trent House and tell Elizabeth what has transpired.
Instruct her to send for Adam right away, in case things go wrong.
” Jonathan peered down at Jeffrey. “Do you have everything?”
Jeffrey stood slumped over with a worried expression, but he managed to nod. Jonathan wanted to assure the elderly butler that everything would be fine but, at the moment, he wasn’t too sure of that himself.
“I’m depending on you, my man,” Jonathan said and clasped Jeffrey firmly on the shoulder.
He didn’t add that his life just might depend on this old man getting the information straight.
Jonathan called for his greatcoat and Jeffrey scurried away.
He returned quickly and helped Jonathan into the coat.
“Gentleman,” Jonathan said as he swept past the petty constables, his head spinning as he wondered who could have testified against him. Pulling the collar of the coat up, he ducked his head and walked out into the rain.
He rode in the wagon with the three constables surrounding him.
Once they arrived at headquarters, Jonathan was ushered into the building where the chief constable sat behind an old oak desk.
He appeared to be reading papers on his overcrowded desk and didn’t bother to look up until Jonathan was standing directly in front of him.
Finally, the chief constable leaned back in his chair, folding his hands across his big belly.
He wore a blue coat and trousers and a drab waistcoat with the city button.
Of course, the gentleman’s stomach prevented him from buttoning the bottom two buttons of his jacket.
The constable gave Jonathan the once-over.
“So this is the one,” the constable finally said to the Petty Constables on either side of him.
His eyes were sharp and assessing. After what seemed like an eternity, he introduced himself. “I am Constable James Bridewell.”
Jonathan seethed with cold fury. “I suppose you already know who I am,” he said tersely.
“Yes, Lord Longdale.” Bridewell’s expression stilled and grew serious. “You’re a man in a lot of trouble.”