Chapter 19
Nineteen
Acrick in his neck woke Richard. The library. Not the most comfortable of couches. A single candle burned near the door, and the fire burned low in the fireplace. The curtains covered the windows, but no light seeped in, and the rumbling in his stomach indicated he had slept the day away.
Richard rubbed a hand down his face. Jane.
He planned a luncheon for the two of them.
Even before Michael handed him the list, Richard knew he must make an effort to get to know his wife.
If nothing else, to start this marriage better than his last. He made a muddle of the day.
This was not the way to keep Jane from despising him.
Another rumble reminded him his last full meal had been at a wayside inn of dubious repute.
Was it suppertime? Perhaps he could salvage his unintended neglect. As he stood, a clock in the corridor struck six. Not a total loss then, he could dine with her.
Oddly, the dining room was dark. In fact, the corridor was only minimally lit with a candle near the entrance hall. He needed to tell his wife there was no need to economize so much. A footman turned the corner, carrying a tray.
“Good morning, Your Grace.”
Morning? “Can you tell me how I came to spend the entire night in the library?”
“Her Grace ordered that you not be disturbed. Can I get you anything?”
“No, I am going to go up to my room. I assume Jenson will be there.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Jenson stood as Richard entered his chamber. “Good morning, Your Grace.”
“Imagine how surprised I am to discover it’s not only morning, but that I slept the night in the library.”
“Her Grace consulted with me yesterday. I was of the opinion that we should allow you to sleep for a while. We assumed you would awake in an hour or two. By evening, we thought you would wake at any moment. When it became clear that you were in a deep slumber, Her Grace thought it best you not be disturbed. No one thought you would sleep for over sixteen hours. If we had I would have advised Her Grace differently.”
If his wife had ordered such actions, he could not be angry with any of the servants, even if Jenson advised her.
Nor could he fault her logic in the matter.
He rubbed the back of his stiff neck. While it had been a kindness to allow him to sleep, he would have been more comfortable in bed.
“I would like a bath as soon as it can be arranged.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Hours later, Jane joined Richard in the breakfast room.
He stood as she entered. Unlike yesterday, she looked the part of a duchess.
Her hair pinned in a simple style and the pale blue morning gown she wore would not be confused with any that the staff might own.
He rose. “Would you like me to prepare you a plate?”
She studied him for a moment before averting her eyes. “Are you terribly upset with me? I heard you spent the entire night in the library. If I had known—”
Since he had time to contemplate the matter, Richard answered with equanimity. “No one, including myself, could have foreseen that I would sleep so soundly for so long. It is I who should ask if you are upset with me. I ruined our luncheon.”
Jane moved to the sideboard and prepared her own plate. “We easily put the food away, and the cake still awaits us. Though Mrs. LaRue is concerned her confection may not be as fresh as it was. I felt that sleep was your greatest need.”
Richard moved to her side to hold her plate. “Since I have already filled my own plate thrice, I can recommend the sliced ham.”
Jane’s lips turned up at his jest. “I am glad to see you left some for me.”
“I may have ordered more.” Richard took her plate to the table and set it near his.
“Has your mother been down yet? She planned to leave this morning.”
“Her carriage is ready. I expect her—”
As always happens when one is discussing someone, the object of their conversation entered the room.
“Would you like me to make you a plate, Mother?”
His mother waved him off. “I had a tray sent to my room, and Mrs. LaRue packed me a wonderful basket. I only came to say my goodbyes.”
In less time than he thought possible, Richard was left alone with his wife.
The silence grew as Jane finished her tea.
He already knew she was not as talkative as Philippa, and he was not accustomed to talking to a wife.
He had spent the majority of the last four years actively avoiding the last one.
He had, however, promised Jane yesterday that they would talk — a conversation he had started but not finished.
He cleared his throat.
She looked up.
He looked back at his empty plate.
This would not do.
Once again, he raised his gaze. “Have you explored the grounds yet?”
“No, Michael was insistent I stay inside until your return. After yesterday morning’s revelations, I understand better the need to watch for my safety.” She stirred her nearly empty cup and turned her gaze to the window.
Was she finished with the conversation? Around and around the spoon swirled. Jane looked at the spoon, and her brow furrowed before she set it aside and took the last sip.
“Would you like to go out with me today? The sky is clear and we can take my curricle if we bundle up.”
“You mean to show me more than the gardens then?”
“Yes, if that is to your liking. I assume you have become somewhat familiar with the house.”
“I have not gotten lost.” She set her cup and plate to the side. A maid, he had not noticed was in the room, removed the dishes from the table.
“Can you be ready in half an hour?” he asked.
“I will only take a moment to fetch my pelisse.”
“Hitching the horse and warming the carriage blankets will take longer.” Richard beckoned to the footman and relayed his wishes. “If you wish, we can talk while we wait. I assume you have questions about yesterday’s conversation.”
She looked out the window again and drew in a fortifying breath. “I want to understand why you have gone to the trouble of employing men to protect you and the estate. It seems like something positively medieval, similar to when dukes had a moat and knights of his own.”
“There is a moat, with no water, around what remains of a castle that predates King Arthur that supposedly belonged to a many times great-grandfather of mine, if you would like to see the ruins. The late duchess did not like them at all and ordered a false set built closer to the house.” Richard did his best to smile.
The gesture felt foreign to his face. After finding himself in the position he had yesterday, he tried practicing in a mirror this morning and found smiling quite unnatural beyond the barest upturn of his lips.
Her brow furrowed and her head tilted as she studied him.
When she didn’t respond, he continued. “I do not, however, have any knights that joust or wear armor. Although there are days I wish I did.”
Her soft smile encouraged him on with the difficult subject.
“Duncan is a devious man. I once thought there were limits to his treachery. However, I have come to believe over the past year that he has few.”
“How few? Would he try to kill you?”
“I do not know if he desires the Dukedom enough to risk the noose. My untimely death would raise questions with the crown, and he would be suspected by association. His actions of the past, however, mean he is not averse to breaking other commandments.”
“So me. If you must have an heir, he could try to kill me.” Her voice was even and calm, though the knuckles on the hand she clenched in her lap whitened, highlighting her loose wedding ring.
He must do something about the band. Not today. There was not time. They needed an earlier departure for a trip to Shrewsbury. “I do not know. You differ greatly from my last wife. I do not think he will approach you in the same way he did her.”
“I do not mean to pry, but if I am to protect myself, what did he do?”
This was not where the conversation was meant to go.
Richard looked at the ceiling. If only there were a god who could give him words.
The one he still believed in had offered him little help these many years.
When no inspiration came, he lowered his chin and met Jane’s eyes.
“I do not wish to insult your sensibilities, but I feel you of all people have the right to know. When—” he found he still could not say his late wife’s name, “—she passed, she was unaware the baby she bore did not breathe. With her dying breath, the woman who was supposed to be my wife informed me that Duncan was the father. A revelation that I knew to be a possibility from her constant flirting and the fact I had discovered him in her bed a year prior. I had thought enough time had passed that I had cut them off from one another. She died laughing because she thought they had won. She did not know that I had already decided to raise the child as my own, regardless of whom she believed to be the father.”
Jane’s hand covered her mouth, her eyes wide. She dropped her hand, and her expression changed. “How could they? That is the vilest… I … I would never…”
“I know you would never… Which is why I do not know what my half-brother might try.”
She tore her gaze from his and looked out of the window again. “You need an heir to stop him.”
“Yes.” That much had been explained in some terms to her before.
“I will do my best to provide you with one.” Jane delivered the statement in a matter-of-fact way.
The same manner someone who had not played an instrument in some time faced a new and complicated piece.
“I ask that you be patient with me. As I lived long enough in the country to know, no one can secure or predict the outcome of a breeding.”
A lump formed in Richard’s throat. He tried to swallow.
She had not asked for reassurance nor demanded tenderness.
She had simply stated what she intended to do and moved on as if courage required no acknowledgement.
He did not deserve this woman. He vowed to do everything in his power to be worthy of what she offered, even if in such emotionless terms. She deserved to feel several degrees more than a broodmare.
He wished for more than being compared to a studhorse.
How could he form some connection with her?
A lasting friendship at the very least, Richard did not hope for more.
A footman entered the room and announced the curricle awaited, thus saving Richard from discussing Jane’s declaration for now.