Chapter 31
Thirty-One
There was no place to hide from one’s husband inside a carriage.
Even the largest carriage at their disposal would not give Jane a way not to face Richard.
There was little for the day but to button her new pelisse, tie her bonnet ribbons, and endure the promised excursion to Shrewsbury.
Jane had successfully kept to her chambers since Richard’s false declaration Friday night.
Thanks to a particularly painful bout of the monthlies, leaving her more than usually indisposed, Jane did not feel more than slightly guilty for not attending church services.
Four days of hot baths, warm compresses, and gallons of pennyroyal and chamomile ended her pain and her excuse to hide in her chamber.
It was not possible to hide that one’s courses were ending from one’s lady’s maids either.
Considering the flowers, notes, and small gifts sent into her room at regular intervals, her maids must have made Richard aware of the situation.
The request for a Wednesday trip to the nearby town, meant that he knew that she would no longer be indisposed by then.
At least he had not said as much in his note.
There were parts of her life she was not prepared to discuss with a man.
That would have been more embarrassing than Francis insinuating that husbands could be a great deal of comfort during a woman’s time of need. Obviously, Francis was unwed and had no idea what Jane felt on the subject.
Jane retied her bonnet ribbon and took a deep breath. There was absolutely no way to delay for one moment longer. There was not even a cloud in the sky to threaten snow that would endanger their journey. Even God would not give her an excuse. Perhaps she should have gone to services on Sunday.
Richard waited in the entryway. His serious gaze bore into her as she walked down the stairs. Jane did not dare to meet his eyes. He had the right to be furious with her. This would be a very long, ten-mile drive. Jane swallowed. She deserved whatever berating he gave her.
His clasp on her hand was gentle as he handed her into the carriage, one of his smaller ones, of course.
Jane sat on the backward-facing seat to give him the better one.
She kept her eyes locked on the warm fur muff, yesterday’s gift, hiding her hands in her lap.
The coach dipped as Richard entered. There was a pause before the space between her and the door was filled with her husband forcing Jane to scoot from the center of her bench.
He chuckled.
Jane forced herself not to look at him.
“I was not aware you preferred the rear-facing seat. Had I known I would have chosen one of the coaches with a rear window. I chose this one because its fewer windows help keep the heat inside better. Would you like a blanket?” He reached for one of the warmed blankets on the other seat.
As much as she wished to ignore him, Jane knew she needed the warmth of the blanket. Jane pulled her hand from the muff, but before her fingers were half-way out, Richard settled the blanket around her, tucking it over her legs. Why was he acting so nice? When would the yelling start?
Richard pulled the second blanket onto his own lap. In arranging the folds, he moved closer to her. Jane could not move further without touching the side of the carriage. From experience, she knew such an action would allow the cold to seep in despite her blanket.
Silence grew between them as the carriage rolled down the long drive to the edge of the estate. Inside the muff, Jane’s fingers fidgeted, waiting for Richard to speak again. To question her behavior. To refute her claims of calling him a liar.
They turned onto the main road faster than she expected. She jostled into Richard’s side.
His arm dropped protectively across her lap. She didn’t flinch despite the quickness of the action.
“Jane?”
She looked up before she could stop herself. His expression was not anger. Still, his features were tight as if a great deal weighed on him. Shadows rested beneath his eyes as if he too had difficulty sleeping. His lie must be eating at him. She turned to look out of the window.
He withdrew the protective arm. “Please? May we talk?”
The plea in his voice gave her little choice but to nod. Only a shrew could deny him. She turned her head in his direction, glad that the bonnet kept her from seeing him directly. Much easier to concentrate when she was not wondering what kept him awake.
“You accused me of lying to you. There is only one lie I have ever told you and it is not the one you accused me of.”
She called on every bit of her fortitude not to turn and stare.
“The night in the library when I startled you, and you turned with the book in your hand. I told you that you did not hurt me. That was the lie I told. The spine of the book caught me in the ribs. Jenson had me in a poultice twice a day for the past week.”
By the time he finished the admission, Jane turned her head to face him. Trying to look through his coat, waistcoat, and shirt to assess the damage. “I hurt you? I thought I smelled comfrey. How bad is the damage?”
Faster than she could believe, he pulled back his coat and untucked his shirt, exposing his side. Jane gasped not at the yellowing bruise but at the expanse of torso that closely resembled a sculpture of a Greek god.
“The bruise no longer hurts, just looks like it does.” Richard dropped his shirt.
Jane looked away, hoping he had not noticed her heating face.
“At the time of our incident, I did not think I was injured badly, which I am not. It is only a bruise, but it hurt. You were so overwrought that I did not want to burden you with the knowledge that you accidentally—”
“I am so sorry. I never meant to…” Tears gathered in her eyes, Jane removed her hand from her muffler to wipe them.
Before she could, Richard was there with a handkerchief. One she embroidered in blue and gold. Jane dabbed at her eyes.
“My side hurts no more. Honestly, I barely thought on the pain that night in the library, holding you in my arms. Your comfort outweighed my discomfort. I know I should have been truthful, but I cannot regret holding you and talking as we did. I was afraid if I told you then, you would have run.”
He was not wrong. She would not have been able to face him nor talk about the things they spoke of that evening.
Running from him solved nothing. The last four days spent hiding in her rooms had done nothing to solve the problem before her.
His declaration. Her duty. Nor the growing tenderness she felt for him.
“I am sorry.” Jane dared to look at him. “I never meant to—”
Richard caught her gloved hand in his. “I know you did not. Which is why I lied to Jenson about the source of my bruise. I do not want any of the servants to think less of you.”
“Are you admitting that you lie often?”
“On the contrary, it is a very rare occurrence. Both lies have bothered me since I uttered them last week. I knew from the moment I concealed the truth from you I would confess when the time was right. Hopefully, when you could laugh over nearly felling me with a children’s book.
As for Jenson, he doesn’t believe my tale, and I will leave it at that. ”
“Do you think I would laugh about hurting you?” Jane pulled back. “Never.”
“Not at hurting me, yet I hope someday you see the humor in the situation. If Michael knew, he would not stop laughing.”
Unbidden, a smile came to Jane’s lips. Michael would find the situation funny. “You will not tell him?”
“No.”
“Thank you.” Jane returned her attention to her muff. He honestly was not angry. How was she to react to forgiveness?
Richard took a deep breath and changed his hold on her hand, bringing it to rest above his heart.
“There is another lie we need to discuss. Not mine, but one told by your father. Lightwood said the vile words to me three times. Once, the night we signed your marriage settlement. Again, on the way to our wedding, and the last, when I caught up with him and sent him to Yorkshire. If the lie crossed his lips that many times to me, I can only imagine you heard it enough to believe his words so deeply that you cannot see your father’s lie for what it is.
I believe his lie damaged your heart and every time he said that ‘no man could love you’ that put a brick on a wall to protect yourself.
Unfortunately, that wall keeps you from accepting the truth from a man who loves you. ”
Through her glove she felt the beat of his heart, followed by another and another. Each beat banging on the wall he said she built.
“Your father said things to me that no father should ever say of his daughter. I know they are false. I will spend the rest of my life proving that to you. If I must wait for days for you to come out of your room, I will. If I must follow you across England, I will. If I must enlist your sisters, I will. If my conservatory runs out of flowers, I will order more even if I exhaust every hot house in England.”
Jane did not know how to answer him. Everything about Richard screamed he was sincere, but how could he be?
No man was supposed to love her. In her mind she could see the lie.
But like one of those pernicious weeds that George hated, the lie grew so big and so deep it could not be pulled out in an instant without causing damage elsewhere.
Jane fixed her eyes on the place somewhere between the carriage window and the gray winter sky where the world blurred away.
“I am not asking you to believe me today, I am only asking you not to believe him.”
The carriage swayed around a bend. His shoulder pressed briefly against hers and did not withdraw.
Jane did not move away from his strength though she was paralyzed to move toward a resolution.
When they exited the carriage Jane threaded her arm through his.
Progress.
The first stop was the goldsmith’s. Resizing the ill-fitting ring would not repair their marriage.
However, anything the smith could do would be better than the constantly breaking threads Jane had wrapped the ring with.
Despite their disagreement, he felt the ring through her glove today.
She had not stopped wearing the simple band.
She may have hidden in her room, but she came out.
The goldsmith looked from the unadorned band to Richard and back with something akin to disbelief in his eyes.
There were, after all, many magnificent rings in the ducal collection.
However, all of them had belonged to someone else before.
Richard had only Michael’s word to go on in Bath when he chose a ring.
All the ornate ones in the shop seemed too overdone for Jane’s disposition.
Knowing her somewhat better now, he would still choose a band devoid of jewels but possibly engraved with a vine or another small embellishment for everyday wear, and perhaps an emerald ring for dinners and such.
While they waited, Jane looked at the collection of rings, earrings, and necklaces the goldsmith offered.
Richard watched to see if she had any preference.
A gold ring with five turquoise stones arranged in the shape of a small flower around a diamond center, a forget-me-not, drew her attention.
Scrollwork on either side of the gemstone flower gave the impression of leaves.
The flower at once seemed the ideal ring for his wife. Jane needed to know she was remembered.
The goldsmith returned to the counter presenting the gold band on a piece of velvet with the small piece of gold he had removed. “The band is too narrow for me to work this piece back into the ring. The band should fit your duchess now.”
Richard took the ring before Jane could reach for it and held out his hand to her.
She looked at his open palm, then at his face, and then took off her glove and presented her hand in the same manner as she had in the chapel in front of witnesses.
Richard slid the ring onto her finger. This time the band settled as it should, staying in place.
Richard bent, bringing her hand to his lips as he did so and pressed a kiss just above the ring.
When he straightened, their eyes met. The faintest blush tinged her cheeks.
He took her glove from her other hand and replaced it over the ring.
The next stop was the dressmakers to fit the previously ordered riding habit and another dress that had been ordered to help her against the chill of the Shropshire winters.
A dress specifically not of grey or brown.
Once Jane was under the care of the women inside and Yates stood stationed without, assured of her safety, Richard returned to the goldsmith’s.
The sizing of his secret purchase took somewhat longer than he expected, and by the time he returned to the dressmaker’s.
He found Yates outside of the shop next door.
“Her Grace is choosing ribbons. I told her you would be back shortly.”
Richard entered the shop and found Jane holding two spools of ribbon. “Were you waiting for me? I am sorry, I just can’t decide which one to get.”
“Why not get them both?’
Jane’s brow furrowed adorably. “I suppose I could.”
“If you only purchase one, I shall be forced to purchase the other.”
She smiled and handed both spools to the proprietress.
With no particular destination in mind, they wandered the rest of the street finding two books in the bookshop and delightful wares in a bakery. The wind picked up and clouds rolled in subsequently ending their day.
He handed Jane into the carriage, and this time she took the front-facing seat leaving enough room for him, Richard adjusted the blankets about them, and Jane leaned into him.
Her actions may have only been for warmth, but after the last four days of not seeing her at all, he took the action as a positive step.
He wrapped one arm around her, the other hand he placed over the pocket containing the ring he purchased and wondered when would be the right time to present the forget-me-not to her.