21. The Hastily Return #2
Jane seemed surprised by the intensity of her mistress’s pressure, but she moved closer, and her expression became more thoughtful as she rinsed a cloth in the warm water to clean Kate’s shoulder and arm.
“I’m not quite sure how to put it into words, ma’am.
He seems… let’s say, less rough than other men. But in a good way, I think—”
Kate’s breath caught immediately, her muscles tensing underwater. Less rough. The words further fueled her panic, putting Kate suddenly on high alert.
“What do you mean, Jane? Speak freely to me. You always have, haven’t you?” She tried to keep her voice level, but she could hear the strain in it, the desperate need to understand how visible the truth might be.
“Indeed, ma’am.” Jane’s hands began to massage her mistress’s back softly.
“He carries himself differently. Not brash, not domineering. There is… a gentleness beneath his strength, a steadiness that draws you in without force. He is… handsome, yes, but in a way that feels refreshing. As if he left one breathless, yet still composed. His features are… fine. Almost delicate, though he disguises it well with his masculine bearing.”
Kate absorbed every word, her mind racing. Fine features. Delicate. Gentleness. How many others had noticed? How many had thought these things and kept silent? How many were one step away from suspicion, from questions, from the kind of scrutiny that could destroy them both?
“And… do others speak of him this way?” Kate asked, trying to sound casual. “The other servants, people in society?”
Jane seemed puzzled by the question. “Ma’am? I… I’m not sure what you mean. People speak well of him, certainly. He’s respected, admired even. Some of the ladies find him quite attractive—”
“But do they question him?” Kate interrupted, unable to help herself. “Do they ever wonder… do they ever express doubt about…,” She trailed off, unable to finish, terrified of saying too much. She pressed her lips together and closed her eyes.
Jane’s brow furrowed with concern. “Doubt about what, ma’am? Is something wrong?”
Kate forced herself to breathe, to pull back from the edge of panic.
“No. I’m simply… curious. About how he’s perceived.
By others.” She let her fingers trail through the water again, trying to appear calm.
“You said he seems less rough. Has anyone else remarked on this? Has anyone ever questioned his… his nature?”
After the last word, Kate turned to meet Jane’s eyes directly.
Understanding seemed to dawn slowly in Jane’s expression, though Kate couldn’t tell what exactly she understood.
“No, ma’am. Not that I’ve heard. Men come in all varieties, don’t they?
Some are rough, some gentle. Mr. Moore-Sullivan’s manner is simply…
refined. Unusual, perhaps, but not suspicious.
People attribute it to good breeding, to his time abroad, and to his education. ”
Kate felt a small measure of relief, but it was fragile, easily shattered. People saw what they expected to see. They interpreted Gina’s gentleness, her refined manner, through the lens of masculinity because they had no reason to question it.
But what if someone did have reason? What if someone looked more closely?
Jane’s words should have been comforting, but they only heightened Kate’s fear. People didn’t look closely—until they did. Until something gave them reason to question, to examine, to expose.
Kate returned her back to Jane.
“And… in other matters, closeness… intimacy…” she forced herself to continue, though her cheeks burned now. “What is normal between a man and a woman? How does one know?”
Jane blinked, clearly surprised by the turn in conversation, her cheeks faintly pink as well.
“Normal? There is no single way, ma’am. Men, women…
people respond differently. Again, some are rough, some gentle, some cautious, some bold.
Desire, closeness… they vary, but should always feel…
natural. Comfortable for both parties. Mutual. ”
Natural. The word echoed in Kate’s mind. What she’d felt with Gina had felt natural—achingly, terrifyingly natural. The tenderness, the care, the way Gina’s touch made her feel cherished rather than possessed. She’d attributed it to Jason being an unusual man, a gentle husband.
But it wasn’t that at all.
It was a woman’s touch. A woman’s love. A woman’s softness and gentleness.
And Kate had responded to it, had craved it, had lain awake at night wanting more of it.
The realization sent a wave of heat through her that had nothing to do with the hot bath water.
She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to calm the sudden sensations in her body, but the thoughts kept coming, unexpected, unwanted, undeniable; turning the internal heat that was taking hold of her into a blazing fire.
“Jane…” she said softly, desperately needing to steer back to safer ground. “From what you’ve seen… before we left for the countryside… what did you notice about… the two of us?”
Jane raised her eyebrows slightly. “Ma’am…
I… I’ve always sensed… a deep desire, between you both.
Every time you were together, even at a distance, I could feel it—like an intensity floating in the air.
From day one, even when you were cautious, I could tell…
he stirred something inside you, something more than what words can capture. ”
Kate’s chest tightened painfully. Desire. Yes, there was desire. There had always been, if she was honest with herself. But now that desire felt like a trap, like evidence of something wrong inside her, something shameful and dangerous that she couldn’t afford to acknowledge.
“And… you… think it was mutual?” she asked, almost in a hush.
Jane nodded, smiling gently, letting her amusement to be noticed in her voice.
“Yes, ma’am. He… he seemed drawn to you from the start.
It’s impossible to miss. There’s… a longing there.
A care. The way he looks at you when he thinks no one’s watching—it’s…
it’s quite beautiful, actually. You notice it, I notice it. Anyone paying attention would.”
Anyone paying attention. The words sent a fresh spike of fear through Kate. If the desire between them was so visible, so obvious, what else might be visible? What other truths might someone notice if they looked closely enough?
“Why all these questions, ma’am?” Jane asked finally. “Did something happen in Yorkshire? I… I know about the agreement between you two, but from the way you’re asking… it seems…” She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “Something happened?”
Kate inhaled slowly and deeply, letting the tension build up in her chest. “Something may have happened… yes. But I’m… too confused.”
“Confused? About what, ma’am?”
Kate pressed her hands lightly against the edge of the tub, curling her fingers into the warm porcelain. The words came before she could stop them, “because… I don’t really know who he is. And… I’m afraid of what… he… makes me feel.”
The confession sent a shiver through her entire body, for even beneath her carefully chosen words, the sentiment was sincere, and that was her greatest fear. The fragility of her self-control whenever Jason… whenever Gina… was at close range.
Jane’s expression softened with sympathy as she moved to clean Kate’s other arm, but Kate could see she didn’t understand—couldn’t understand—the full weight of what she was saying.
“Tell me, Jane… how does one know when they’re truly in love with… someone’s soul, their essence… and not just… their body?” Her voice wavered, almost breaking. “Is it… is it acceptable to love someone—or like someone—not only for the physical?”
Jane considered her for a few seconds, then gave a gentle, knowing smile.
“Ma’am… yes, it is. Love… desire… they are not mutually exclusive, and both are natural.
Whatever you’re feeling, whatever confusion you’re experiencing—it’s not wrong.
And… I can tell you this—what you two have…
it is physical, too. There’s longing there, a closeness, an intimacy that speaks of both heart and body. ”
Kate’s chest loosened bit by bit. A faint smile tugged at her lips despite everything, a small warmth blooming inside her at the acknowledgment that what she felt wasn’t entirely shameful, even if Jane didn’t know the full truth of it.
But the fear remained, cold and constant beneath everything else. Because even if her feelings weren’t wrong, acting on them was. Acknowledging them was. Being discovered was.
And Kate didn’t know how to reconcile the love growing inside her with the terror that threatened to consume her entirely.
* * *
An hour later, Kate sat in her chamber, dressed in a simple morning gown, her hair freshly combed over her shoulders. The warmth from the bath had helped ease the tension in her body, but the weight in her chest remained, perhaps even heavier now after her conversation with her maid.
She’d asked Jane to summon Mary, and now she waited, hands folded in her lap to hide their trembling. This conversation would be different. More direct. More necessary.
Mary had served in Jason’s household for years. She would know things, about Gina’s past, about how the deception had been maintained, about whether they were truly safe or living on the edge of discovery.
Kate needed to know. She needed to understand the full scope of the danger before she could allow herself to feel anything else.
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.
“Come in.”
Mary entered quietly, but Kate noticed the wariness in her movements, the way her eyes searched Kate’s face for clues. The woman knew something had happened. The question was how much she knew, and how much she would reveal.
“You wished to see me, ma’am?”
“Sit, Mary.” Kate gestured to the chair across from her, her voice carrying an authority she didn’t entirely feel. “We need to speak frankly.”