Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
“... a
nd I believe only about three rooms within the west wing are still awaiting a few pieces of furniture to be delivered before the refurbishment is completed.”
Jane blinked, trying to figure out if she was the one being spoken to. Uncertainly, she glanced by her side, only finding Adele who coughed shyly, and then she faced the housekeeper.
“Oh,” she blinked again, trying to remember what Mrs Greene had just spoken about, barely able to make out three words swirling around in her head. “I-I see. Thank you, Mrs Greene.”
It appeared that her acting performance was lacking, because the housekeeper narrowed her eyes.
“Are you truly all right, Your Grace? You have not been quite yourself, all morning. Did you fall ill after all? Your face is slightly flushed. Shall I summon a physician?” the older woman fussed.
Jane quickly shook her head, worried that the woman might make good on her word and actually send for a physician to exam her, which would be rather embarrassing because no doctor would be able to help her. Not when the remedy she required could not be ingested or applied to the body for wellness.
After her little tryst with the duke, she had awoken alone in his bed, horrified to find out that she had fallen asleep before she even managed to put herself together.
It seemed that did not matter, because her clothes had been restored to their original form of order, and she had been tucked beneath the covers while she slept.
It had been humiliating, to have slept so deeply she did not notice him adjusting her clothes, or leaving the room and as she sat on his bed by herself, she feared he would think her unworthy of his time and effort moving forward.
Jane had left his room, barely making it to her own before Adele had found her, worry etched onto her innocent expression.
“Your Grace! We have searched very inch of the house for you? Where have you been?” her maid questioned in concern.
“Oh,” Jane rubbed at her eyes tiredly, hoping she sounded as exhausted as she aimed to. “I felt unwell, all of a sudden and I simply fell asleep in the first room I saw.”
“What room? We have been looking for you for the better part of half an hour,” Adele informed, her eyes alight with curiosity.
“The library,” Jane blurted out suddenly.
“I found a cozy little nook where you can hide in and rest. I simply meant to test it out for a moment and see if I could turn it into a special little alcove for Reuben, but I suppose I was far more comfortable than I had intended to bed, and as such, I fell asleep. I am sorry, you all must have been so worried.”
“Do not worry about us, Your Grace. We are just grateful to have found you, safe and sound... though I think perhaps you should get some more rest. You look tired still,” Adele suggested softly.
Jane thought the girl was right, because she still felt as though her skin was abut to slip off her flesh, still seemingly thrumming with lightening dancing over it. Her body recalled his touch all too clearly, craved to have it once more.
She did not know what it meant, but it was clear there was something not quite right with her and she needed to sort that out, as soon as possible.
The duchess had agreed to rest some more then, slipping into her room immediately, forgoing breakfast and even a visit to Reuben.
And now, despite it being the dawn of a new day, she could still remember it all, could still smell the spicy musk tinged with the scent of paint that clung to his skin.
She could still feel the roughness of his scars, could still feel his fingers exploring her body, teasing and pleasuring her.
It was as though she had opened a new door and was too curious to shut it after everything had been said and done.
“I –” she cleared her throat. “I think... I am still a tad weary. I am sorry.”
Mrs Greene shook her head instantly. “Do not apologize, Your Grace. We have all borne witness to how hard you have worked in the last few days. You have been exceptionally persistent about every detail and the estate has not looked better in many years. You should rest.”
Jane nodded, forcing thoughts of the... absolutely wicked things her husband’s fingers did to her, in favor of enquiring about Reuben.
“How is Reuben? I was meant to see him last night before I was side track– ahem, I mean... before I feel asleep. Is he well?” she questioned delicately.
“He is quite well today, Your Grace. It seems he awoke with the desire to read because he was already seated in bed with a book in his hands when Miss Becker arrived to rouse him. Do not worry about him at all, Your Grace. We will take good care of him if you wish to take some time to recuperate,” Mrs Greene assured strongly.
Jane paused, her gaze straying to a window longingly.
She had not gone out at all since she arrived at the estate.
Granted, it had only been about a week since her wedding, but she was beginning to feel a little overwhelmed.
It was as though she had forced herself to take on the role without thinking and she was gradually running herself ragged with every passing day.
“Actually... I think I might spend the day away from the estate. It is high time I called on a dear friend,” she mused out loud.
“Excellent idea, Your Grace,” the housekeeper agreed with a clap. “You do not have to worry about a single thing in your absence. Lord Wetherby will be watched closely and we shall handle the rest of the arrangements around the house.”
With everything seemingly in order, Jane simply nodded in acceptance.
“Well then, since all that is settled, please have the carriage prepared,” she instructed, rising to her feet. “I shall change and be on my way shortly.”
As the carriage rolled onto the estate Jane had grown familiar with in a bid to escape the torture her life had become in her childhood home, she wondered how she would explain everything to her friend.
Truth be told, she knew she had made a rash decision, and if it were anyone else that had possessed the same reluctance to marry, they would have never agreed to the duke’s terms. Jane feared her friends would think less of her and find her unwise for the decision she had made.
Finally, the carriage came to a stop in the driveway that led to the front door and after inhaling deeply in a bid to steady her nerves – failing promptly – she disembarked from the carriage with the help of the coachman.
It was not proper, to show up without letting the host know beforehand, but such formalities had never existed between Jane and her friends. She hoped that still rang true as she walked up to the front door and knocked.
The butler opened the door with a bright expression, and she felt comforted mildly by the sight of a familiar face.
“Lady – oh, my apologies, Your Grace. I have not seen you since your wedding, but I had heard about it. Congratulations.”
“Thank you, Roderick,” Jane smiled softly. “Is Penelope home? I did not call on her beforehand to let her know I was coming, and I fear I might have caught her at a bad time.”
“Oh, not at all. Her Grace is having tea with the duke in the sunroom. I shall inform them of your arrival, Your Grace,” Roderick bowed to her before he walked off down a hall.
Barely three minutes had passed before a door was slammed open and Penelope came practically running down the hall in Jane’s direction. Her lips had only just opened to greet her friend when she was embraced tightly.
“My goodness, Jane! Where have you been? I very nearly marched to that estate to demand to see you! What happened? Did your husband keep you confined against your will?” Penelope questioned rapidly.
Jane tried to respond, but her friend continued, “If he did something to you, I am going to end his life with my hands. I swear it. Are you all right? Did anything untoward transpire? Shall I fetch Cecil’s hunting rifle?”
“What you should do, my dear, is calm yourself. You are scaring our precious Jane,” Penelope’s husband, Cecil Wightman, duke of Westerdale stated as he approached them with an amused expression.
Penelope glared at him. “That man could have done something –”
“I know you were worried about her, darling, but you should let her give the accounts of what transpired. Making assumptions will get you nowhere. Let us hear what happened, from her own lips,” he murmured gently, taking hold of Penelope’s hand.
Jane watched the fire leave her friend’s eyes as her shoulders dropped and she walked to Cecil’s side. Cecil beamed, looking less cheeky and gentler as he murmured something to Penelope, and her friend blushed, smacking him half-heartedly on the shoulder when he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.
For a moment, Jane imagined what it would look like if she had such a friendly, causal relationship with her own husband. What if they could reassure each other like that? Could ease the worries that might lie within their hearts?
Almost as soon as the thought surfaced, Jane snuffed it out, because there was no point to do such a thing. In less than three months, they would go their separate ways and live their lives as they were meant to. She did not want a marriage or a husband and that had not changed.
“Jane,” Cecil grinned at her boyishly. “It is good to see you. I am sorry I could not attend your wedding. I did hear it was quite the ceremony, given that my wife had taken it upon herself to spread rumours of herself being in the family way. Did she really faint?”
Jane nodded, her lips pulling into a smile as Cecil laughed, dabbing at the corners of his eyes in mirth.
“Oh dear. Now I really wish I had been able to witness such a wonderous sight. Who knew my wife was so talented in the way of the arts? Are you certain you do not belong in a theatre, my love?” Cecil teased, wrapping an arm around Penelope’s waist and drawing her closer to him.