Chapter Sixteen
Jane awoke with a start the next morning, while the sun was high.
She hadn’t meant to sleep so late, but remembering what took place last night, she groaned and dropped her body back against the pillow as the heels of her hands came up to her face.
She pressed into her eye sockets as flashes of Samuel’s arms, chest, and face rolled through her mind like a pantomime.
What had possessed her to cross that line last night?
Samuel, of course, deserved all the blame.
Though he hadn’t managed to come to her room last night due to having to entertain Mr. Liddell into the wee hours of the morning, Jane was still consumed by their meeting in his office.
He had been so outrageously honest and honorable, forthright and moral.
To release her from her position because he didn’t wish to cross the line of employer, well, it was too much for Jane to ignore.
He had tried to do the right thing and in doing so, he had made Jane fall in love with—
Oh, no.
Jane sat back up in her bed. No, she would not admit that.
She couldn’t even think about it. It was the worst thing she could do, fall in love with someone.
Her mother had warned her for years to never trust a man, because she might fall in love with him.
To do so would make her weak and nonsensical.
And now look at her. She had done exactly what her mother had predicted.
She had offered him everything, for nothing in return.
Flinging the covers off her bed, Jane scrambled out, wary of all the aches and sensitivities that stretched over her body. She would never be able to face Samuel again, and yet, she had all but thrown herself at his mercy.
What kind of woman was she, pretending to be some sort of spinster when all she really was, was a trollop?
Deciding to dress in her darkest dress, a brown and yellow plaid gown, she made sure to fix her hair into a high bun. She didn’t want to look tempting in the least.
Once she was satisfied with her appearance, she left her room to find that the house was unusually quiet. It was early yet.
“Jane,” Samuel said warmly as he came to close the door behind her. She was careful not to let him touch her. Once the door was closed, he turned, that gentle smile on his lips doing things to her she would never readily admit. “How are you?”
“Well. How are you?” she asked, but he didn’t answer right away.
Instead, Samuel tilted his head, his brows coming together.
“Are you sure you are well? You don’t seem it.”
“I did not sleep well last night.”
He smiled and reached for her hand.
“Neither did I.” Jane gently pulled her hand back, and Samuel’s smile faltered, but she continued.
“I think we should talk.”
“Of course. Should I ring for tea?”
“No, thank you,” she said as she moved around the room to stand next to the fireplace.
Samuel did not follow her but rather watched her until she came to a stop.
Taking a deep breath, Jane decided to tell him the truth.
“I’ve considered what you said last night and I think I agree. I cannot continue in this position.”
Samuel didn’t answer right away, but when he did, his tone was oddly cold.
“Excuse me?”
“You were correct, last night. My position in this job has become a hazard for you, and I cannot continue because of it.”
“If this is about how I acted last night…”
Jane’s face instantly warmed.
“Please. I’d prefer not to speak about last night.”
He frowned and it broke her heart to see the confusion in his warm eyes.
“I see.”
“I’m glad you do,” Jane said, “because I do not take any satisfaction in this. It’s just that, I feel that this situation has gotten out of hand, and I feel it would be best to accept the decision you made last night, before we, er… Well…”
“I suppose I understand. It’s just, I thought we… Well, I thought we were of the same mind on this.”
“I did too,” Jane said. “But after giving the situation some thought, I’ve figured there are only three situations that could come from this. One, I leave and we all go on with our lives. Two, I stay and we inevitably have some sort of affair that ends in ruin.”
“And the third option?”
Jane paused before answering.
“I dare not ever say it.”
To her utter astonishment though, Samuel’s hand came up to touch her cheek.
“Because you don’t trust that it could happen?” She nodded. “But Jane—”
Knock, knock, knock.
Jane turned and took several steps away from him as the door opened to reveal Mr. Tompkins.
“Mr. Milton? There’s a carriage here for, oh! Miss Atherton. Just the person I was looking for.”
Jane tilted her head.
“Whatever for?”
“A carriage has arrived for you. Er, it’s one of Lady Belle’s. She’s requested your presence for tea.”
Jane frowned.
“But it’s not yet noon.”
The secretary shrugged.
“Lady Belle famously takes tea whenever she pleases.”
Jane nodded.
“Very well. I should not wish to keep her waiting then.”
“Er, I don’t think we were finished here yet, Miss Atheron,” Samuel said, using her proper name in front of his secretary. “I’d like to continue our discussion first.”
“I’m afraid I’ve said all that I intended to.” She turned to face Mr. Tompkins. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way.”
The secretary gave his boss a strained look before nodding and turning at once.
“Very well. Follow me.”
Before Jane could reach the door, however, Samuel reached for her arm, staying her, but she would not look at him.
“Jane, please.”
“I’m sorry, Samuel. But it’s just not in either of our best interests. If I continued here, rumors would eventually start—”
“That’s not true. Everyone here is loyal to me.”
She gave him a painful chuckle.
“How lucky for you.”
“No, that’s not what I mean,” he said, pulling her toward him. Her hands came up to his chest to stop herself from being held by him, but the feeling of his body beneath her fingers was excruciating. “I meant to say that everyone here would protect you, your name. Your reputation.”
“Something I’m trying to do myself right now. Please, Samuel, try to understand. This is me protecting myself. I’m sorry, Samuel, but I cannot stay.”
A long silence followed.
“So that’s it? You’ll leave and what? Return to Harris House?”
She wouldn’t let her gaze meet his eyes.
“More than likely. Or maybe I can afford my own home now.”
Samuel’s hand dropped and he took a step back, seemingly stung by her words.
“Yes, I suspect you can. Very well then… I-I won’t keep you.”
And though she knew what he meant, the words stung regardless.
“I will let Mr. Tompkins know that I’ll need my things packed. After tea with Lady Belle, I’ll take a hackney to Glencoe—”
“No. You’ll take my carriage.”
She shook her head.
“I don’t think that would be very wise.”
“I insist,” he said, his face drawn and sad.
She swallowed back her tears.
“Very well. Thank you. And goodbye, Mr. Milton. Samuel.”
She pressed her lips to the side of his cheek and tried to step away from him as her heart began to break, when all of a sudden she was wrapped up in his arms, being kissed deeply and headily.
Her own arms wrapped around his shoulders, holding onto him as she frantically kissed him back, eager to remember everything about him.
The scratchiness of his stubble, the smell of his skin, the fabric of his fine suit.
And then, it was over. All too quickly.
He stood there, breathing heavily, unable to meet her eyes.
“Goodbye, Jane,” he said as he turned away from her and, unable to speak herself, she fled.
Jane managed to get down the stairs, out of the grand house, and into the carriage before allowing the dam to break. As soon as the driver cracked his whip, the carriage was off and Jane, alone in her sadness, wept.
It was the hardest thing she had ever had to do, leave him like that.
No doubt the poor man probably thought she was some cold, indifferent witch, but she had to leave.
It was the only way she could continue on in life.
She didn’t know how to be someone’s mistress, and she doubted her mother wanted her to end up as some rich man’s concubine.
Although, as she cried in the carriage alone, she wondered what other life she was supposed to have now.
She was illegitimate, without any money or connections.
She could likely buy a little cottage now and possible afford a housemaid and a cook, but for how long?
How was she going to make a living for herself after her money ran out?
She had no skills other than social ones, and there was no need for such talents in this part of the world. Not for someone like her.
What a mess she had made. Her judgment had been clouded, and her heart had felt hopeful for the first time in her life since coming to Milton House.
She wished she could stay. She wanted nothing more than to believe in all the sorts of things he believed and that the world was inherently a good place.
But she had witnessed too much of the world to believe it.
The world was not a nice place, and he was a fool to think it was.
By the time the carriage reached Lady Belle’s home, a surprisingly humble rowhouse compared to Lismore Hall, Jane had wiped her tearstained cheeks and tried to compose herself.
The driver helped her out, and the door to the house was open before she reached the top steps.
An older housekeeper with a severe stare spoke.
“Miss Jane Atherton?”
“Yes.”
“This way,” she said without so much as a pleasantry.
Jane was quick to follow her down the hallway and left in a large study.
Two settees sat in front of the fireplace, facing each other.
The walls were lined with bookcases, although the interior walls held paintings, some seemingly amateurish in style.
There was also a desk on the exterior wall where Lady Belle sat, in front of a tall, older man with fair, thinning hair. Jane curtsied upon seeing them.
“Lady Belle,” she said, but the old woman was watching her like a hawk.
“Have you been crying, my dear?”
“Oh, uh.” Jane touched her still-warm face. “Yes.”
“Hm,” she said, before she pushed her chair back and stood. “I’ve something that I think you might find interesting. Andrews?”
The tall man bent down and picked up a small wooden chest that appeared to be at least a hundred years old. No one made chests like these anymore, Jane thought, with the domed top and brass nails.
Andrews came around and plopped it on the table that sat in between the settees. Jane stared at it.
“Is there some sort of buried treasure in it?”
“Well, to you, yes, I think so,” Belle said as she hobbled around the room to take a seat. So did Jane. “Open it.”
Tentatively, Jane reached for the little latch. Picking it up with her thumb and index finger, she opened the wooden chest to reveal hundreds and hundreds of letters. All addressed to Lady Belle.
She glanced over at the woman, confused.
“Are these your letters?”
“They are, but I think I should like you to have them.”
Jane frowned, unsure.
“Oh, well… Thank you, Lady Belle. I, uh, don’t know what to say.”
The old woman rolled her eyes before exhaling loudly.
“Pick one up and read it.”
Worried that she was annoying the elderly lady, Jane did as she was told. The first she picked was dated only a year ago.
Dearest Belle,
I’m afraid I’m not long for this world. The doctors say my illness is growing worse and yet I’ve still so much to complete before I meet my judgment. Pray for me, Belle; I fear I have failed my darling Cora and my sweet, sweet Jane…
Jane looked up.
“Is this… Are these from my mother?”
Lady Belle leaned forward slightly, her wrinkled hand covering Jane’s.
“Yes. They’re all from her.”
Fresh tears sprang to Jane’s eyes as she looked down at the box. There had to be hundreds of letters here. She shook her head as her voice cracked.
“But how?”
“I befriended your mother some twenty-odd years ago. She was, oh, she was a lovely woman. Animated, electric, but at times deeply sad. I always attributed it to her being somewhat bored here in the Highlands, but I learned there were deeper wells that were invisible to others. They would have remained invisible to me, but the first letter I received from her, all those years ago, asked not for my confidence, nor my forgiveness. She only asked about her children. Logan and Arabella.”
“She… wrote to you about them?”
Belle nodded slowly.
“She did. Nearly a year after she disappeared. And, as I am not the judgmental sort, I answered her truthfully. I wrote to her and told her that they were fine, but that they missed her and that she should come home. But her second letter explained how that was an impossibility because she had remarried and was expecting a child any day.”
Jane’s hands began to shake.
“Me?”
“Yes. From the second letter on, we shared a devoted correspondence with one another. I revealed certain things about my life and she did in turn, including all her reasonings for abandoning her family and starting a new one. But I will warn you, Jane. While you may find her reasons to be lacking, they were very real and very painful to the woman who raised you. I hope you might be able to read these letters knowing that she was a very flawed person, but a person nonetheless.”
Jane stared at the old woman before glancing back at the pile of letters. All written in her mother’s hand. It seemed every question Jane ever had, every issue she had with her mother, would finally be explained. And yet, she could barely wrap her head around it.
“I… I don’t know what to do,” she said numbly, glancing around the room. “I… I left Milton House for good and I, I was going to return to Glencoe today…”
“Today? I wouldn’t if I were you. My leg becomes terribly painful when the weather’s about to turn. I think perhaps you should stay here for a bit. I’ll have a tray sent in and you may have all the privacy in the world. Would you like that?”
“I, uh, yes, please. Thank you, Lady Belle.”
She patted her hand before standing up.
“Of course, my dear. Of course.”
And with that, Belle left and Jane dumped out the chest. Searching for the first letter, she lined up the next three in order, and then, with a deep breath, began to read her mother’s story.