Chapter 25
Twenty-Five
The wooden pew was no more comfortable than it had ever been.
However, Richard found sitting next to his beautiful wife made the experience much more pleasant.
Jane fidgeted almost imperceptibly. With as nearly as many eyes on them as there were on the vicar, Richard struggled to remain impassive. No, there were more eyes on them.
The collective gasp when the vicar had welcomed the new Duchess of Aylton to the congregation had decrescendo into a rustle of whispers that had not quieted as the sermon continued.
The occasional hushing or ticking from a parent punctuated the murmurs, indicating that not every thought was on him and his new bride.
However, all of Richard’s thoughts were on his new bride.
Since yesterday’s surprisingly passionate kiss in the schoolroom, there had been few thoughts that were not about Jane.
Or more specifically, that kiss. A kiss that penetrated the icy exterior of his heart.
Jane’s kiss had not been practiced like those he had experienced before.
Even the young maid had not been a novice.
The intensity of his kiss with Jane was not feigned or meant only for her own satisfaction.
He had been on the losing end of enough of those types to know the difference.
After dinner they had read together from the ledger of books and planned the new library organization by the fire. The problem came when he escorted her to her chambers.
They stopped at the door, and she looked up at him through those long lashes. The desire to kiss her and follow her into her room filled him. He had to close his eyes and picture her flinching away and recall the promises he had made to both of them to restrain himself.
The kiss on the top of her head was not satisfying, but it retained his honor and kept his word.
He had been an idiot to choose five breathless kisses.
One had been enough to ignite something he had not known existed.
Words once spoken by his mother about intimacy being balanced in the heart and mind helped him practice restraint.
What a fool he was. Years of a passionless marriage had tricked him into believing that a kiss was just a kiss. That there was no meaning in such an act.
The kiss had been a vow. He had answered words spoken only eight days ago by the vicar, “Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?” Not with words, as he had done in the family chapel, but with his soul.
The subsequent words he had spoken at his marriage, “I take thee Jane to my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth,” found meaning.
He would cherish, for he could not bear that she be hurt one whit more than she had already suffered. Love, if he were to be capable of such a thing—until yesterday he thought there to be no possibility — now he had hope.
Love. How did one define the word? How does one know if he feels love?
He had felt the opposite so often from his father, his half-brother, and the woman who was his wife.
His mother and Michael had given him love, and Richard supposed what he felt for them was love, but the love for a wife should be more.
More what? Respect? He felt that for Jane the moment she accepted his difficult proposal.
Friendship? Their conversations were enjoyable enough.
The vicar said something about God being love. That hardly applied. What he needed was a good dictionary. He had a few in the library… They would help him discover what he must do to make his relationship one that included love.
The service concluded, bringing Richard back to the present as Jane shifted again by his side.
He had not asked her, yet somehow he knew she dreaded the next quarter hour as much as he.
Everyone in the congregation who believed they had the right to approach him for an introduction to his new wife would, and those who were less sure of their standing would linger near, hoping for recognition.
The curious would stay just beyond, hoping to hear some tidbit they could share with their friends who were not so bold.
Richard stood and tucked Jane’s arm in his. He glanced down at her to share an encouraging word but was interrupted by Lady Comstock.
“Your Grace, I am all astonishment. Your dear mother was here but a week ago and did not say a word. Not a single word. I assume she knew, since the vicar said he performed the ceremony himself. And so quickly after the passing of your late wife…”
“Lady Comstock, may I present to you my wife,” Wife. The word filled him with an unexpected pride. “The Duchess of Aylton.” Richard stepped back precisely half a pace, ceding the moment to the two women.
With a composed, gracious nod, Jane smiled. “Lady Comstock. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Lady Comstock curtsied as deeply as her sixty-year-old bones would allow. “Your Grace, the honor is entirely mine. I hope you find the country much to your liking. If there is anything I might do to make your introduction to the neighborhood easier, I hope you will not hesitate to call upon me.”
Jane glanced briefly at the Duke, then back. “That is most thoughtful of you, Lady Comstock. I shall keep your invitation in mind.”
And thus, the introductions began. By the time they reached the end of the pews, Richard had introduced Jane to the ladies of all three families of rank in the area, as well as two gentlemen and their wives who had pushed their way to the forefront of the remaining parishioners.
Richard singled out three families he felt deserved introductions more than those who forced an introduction, and the vicar’s wife, who was standing next to her husband, also demanded recognition.
With each introduction, Jane tightened her grip on him a bit more.
Outside the chapel, several people waited, bundled in cloaks against the wind.
Richard nodded at them as he hurried Jane to their awaiting coach. There would be time enough to meet others later, and he had no desire to keep anyone, mostly his wife, in the cold longer than necessary. He sighed in relief when the door shut behind them.
Jane settled into her seat. “I believe the vicar could have read the genealogies from the Old Testament today and no one would have noticed in the least. Do you always feel so on display at church?”
“No. Although, I expected that today would be a bit of a spectacle. I am sorry that Lady Comstock spoke out of turn.”
“She likely only said what others were thinking. The news of your late wife’s death was likely still among the gossip during daily calls.”
Richard rubbed Jane’s gloved hand, tracing the knuckles through the soft leather. “Ethel was not well-liked here.”
Jane nodded. “With your permission, I shall call on Lady Comstock on Tuesday. If my guess is right, gaining her favor will do much to repair any damage that was created.”
“There is no need to beg my permission to make a call. Though I wish to know where you go, so I can be sure you have the best carriage and footmen to accompany you.” He hoped she could see the difference between his wish to be protective and not think him controlling of her every move.
“How did you choose Lady Comstock as your first visit?”
Jane blinked up at him, and her oh-so-kissable lips parted. “Your mother mentioned the name, and she dared to approach you without a ‘by your leave.’”
His wife rattled off a further explanation, but Richard did not hear. The battle that raged within him grew too loud. It was all he could do to look away and suppress the urge to kiss the woman who had absolutely no idea how remarkable or beautiful she was.
Entering Redbridge, Richard turned Jane over to her maids so she might change out of the dress she wore to services and hurried to the library.
The library held several dictionaries, the first dictionary he found was by an American named Webster.
love, [luv] 1;. t. to regard with affection, like, value
love, n. a passion. friendship, kindness, silk stuff
Hardly helpful. Especially silk stuff. What did see through fabric have to do with love?
Johnson’s 1773 dictionary’s befuddling definition.
To LOVE. v.a. [lufian, Saxon.]
To regard with passionate affection,
Good shepherd, tell this youth what ’tis to love.
—— It is to be made all of sighs and tears;
It is to be made all of faith and service;
It is to be all made of fantasy,
All made of passion, and all made of wishes;
All adoration, duty, and obedience;
All humbleness, all patience, all impatience,
All purity, all trial, all observance.
Shakespeare.
Love. n.s. [from the verb.]
1. The passion between the sexes.
Hearken to the birds love-learned song,
The dewie leaves among!
Spenser’s Epithalam.
While idly I stood looking on,
I found th’ effect of love in idleness.
Shakespeare.
Richard slammed the book closed. Next time he was in Town, he would purchase a better dictionary.
How could he know what love was when he could not define the blasted word.
Cherish was easy enough. The gratitude he had for her from her acceptance sparked the desire to protect her and treat her as the gift she was.
But love was so much more elusive. Surely someone other than Shakespeare understood what love was.