Chapter 16
Chapter 16
8th of May 1814
Henry fidgeted with his cuffs while his valet brushed down his coat. Why was he so nervous? He had been wed before and to a woman he did not love. This time, he would marry the lady who had stolen his heart—who he wished to live with until the end of his days. He should not be shaking as though a frightened child! He should be celebrating.
The door opened, and Charles’s reflection could be seen in the mirror as he entered the dressing room. “Forgive me for being late.”
“You are so rarely tardy that I was about to send a footboy to fetch you.” Charles had stayed with Henry at Hemel House the night before in preparation for the wedding. They had drunk brandy and played billiards until Henry had finally cried off due to fatigue, and they had both retired.
“I must confess something to you,” said Charles. His grim expression made Henry turn to face him. Charles was never so downcast. What could this be about?
“What is it?”
His brother cleared his throat and shrugged his shoulders in a twitchy sort of manner. “I must beg your forgiveness again for waiting until today to tell you this.”
Henry frowned and waved his valet to leave them, which he did without question. “What do you mean? What have you waited to tell me?”
Charles shifted on his feet. “I have had issues with my hearing and ears for some time now.”
“What sort of issues?” And why had his brother not said a word?
“I thought nothing of it when I first noticed it. My left ear would buzz as though bees were inside it. The noise was annoying but would resolve itself every time. Over time, the problem became more common and spread to my right ear. My hearing then began to dim as though the noises or voices were from another room. I find speech difficult to follow at times. I have also experienced bouts of dizziness. Thankfully, those were in my home, so my valet was called to ensure I was well until they passed. After several rather trying bouts in one week, my valet insisted upon me consulting a physician.”
“Have you done so?” asked Henry.
“I have. At first, Mr. Wallace thought it nothing but called upon me after he consulted with several other physicians he knew in London. Only one had known of a similar ailment, and the man was deaf within a year.”
“Deaf!” Henry could not help the almost cry that had escaped. How could something like this happen?
“I had the same reaction. At the recommendation of Mr. Wallace, this other physician examined me. I have several of the same symptoms as the other gentleman. The buzzing in my ears has worsened in recent weeks, and at times, I cannot hear much at all. They expect I shall lose my hearing soon.”
“My God.” Henry squeezed his eyes closed and rubbed his face with his palms before reopening them. “Is there any hope at all?”
“Given the worsening of my hearing even within the last fortnight, I have little reason to hope. I departed Lady Vranes’s ball early due to the ringing, which was followed by near silence for a day. As I said before, I am sorry for finally telling you now. I have delayed for so long in the vain hope matters might improve. I heard little yesterday, and even now, your voice is not loud when you speak—even when you raise your voice.”
Henry raked his fingers through his hair. “Is there anything I can do?”
“The physician introduced me to a Mr. Creasy,[3] who has begun teaching a method of speaking with your hands to children. I have been learning the art, as has my valet. Much to my surprise, my housekeeper and butler here in town have been joining us for lessons.”
“I should like to join as well,” said Henry, nodding. “I am also certain Jane will wish to be able to communicate with you. If they know of a suitable teacher, I should like the girls to learn as well. We are your family and will not let you be alone in this. When the Season ends, I also insist you remain at Clitheroe with us until you are more settled with your situation.”
Charles embraced him almost before he finished speaking. “Forgive me. While I knew you would not abandon me, I had not expected you to do so much. I am fortunate to have your family by my side.”
With his hands on his youngest brother’s shoulders, Henry ensured their gazes met. “How could I not? You are the greatest friend I have ever had, and this shall not come between us. Do you understand? Besides, the girls and Jane are not just my family, they are yours as well.”
The pain in Charles’s eyes when he nodded tore at Henry. “You do not know how much I appreciate this.” No thanks were necessary. He could never abandon his brother when he needed him!
“Jane and I were to remain here for a week, but we can return to town in the event you require us there.”
His brother shook his head. “No, my valet and servants are able to care for me, and if I have need of you, I can send for you. Hemel Hill is not so far away. You would easily be able to make a swift return. I insist.”
Henry nodded. It was true. Hemel Hill was an easy drive from London.
“Now, I must also insist that frown disappear from your face. You are to be married to a wonderful and beautiful lady, and she may cry off if she bears witness to that frightful expression.”
Charles had been blessed with good humour and an amiable character to go with it, but would he manage to maintain his spirit when he lost his hearing for good? Henry could not bear it if his personality was changed in such a drastic fashion.
Henry started. “This is why you have partaken of so many performances of late: the opera, and the Bach quartet you travelled to Bath to see.”
“Yes, though I doubt I shall do much from now on as I can no longer hear the music properly on a good day. But that is enough on that! Today is meant for the celebration of your marriage, not my pathetic tale of woe.” He slapped Henry’s back. “Now, let us have you wed. I can only imagine how eager you are for this evening, so the last thing we need is to delay.”
“Charles,” said Henry. When his brother gave Henry his attention, he levelled a steady gaze on him. “You could never be pathetic, and we shall always love you whether you can hear or not.”
After nodding, Charles made his way to the servants’ entrance to summon the valet. As a child, Henry was often tasked with caring for his youngest brother, but how was he to do so now? He could not protect his little brother from this. He shook himself. Perhaps Jane would know. In the meantime, Charles wished him to anticipate the wedding without the spectre of his hearing overshadowing the ceremony or what was to come. For now, the best Henry could do for Charles was to heed his request.
As soon as they waved off the Richmond carriage as it departed Hemel Hill, Henry offered Jane his arm. She was his wife! He longed to crush her in his embrace, but he would not embarrass her so before the servants, even if she would, no doubt, allow it. As soon as they entered the house, Mrs. Deaton stood in the hall, her hands clasped before her. “I wish you great joy, Your Graces.”
Henry gave a dip of his chin as Jane squeezed his arm. “I thank you, Mrs. Deaton. Your Grace, you mentioned earlier of your requests for dinner.” He grinned at Jane when he called her by her new title. She had said after first being addressed so by her sister that she would never become accustomed to the appellation, yet she would have to at some point since the servants would be calling her thus almost constantly.
“Yes,” said Jane, “We would like it served in our sitting room at seven.”
Mrs. Deaton curtseyed. “Of course, Your Grace.”
Without further courtesies, Henry led his bride to the chambers she had used during her stay at Easter. No sooner had they entered than he took her in his arms and held her close. “I need to speak to you.”
“That sounds ominous.”
He had no wish to release her, but instead of revelling in her, he drew her towards the sofa where he ensured she sat then took his place beside her. He would prefer to do this now as opposed to later. “Charles came to me as I was readying myself for the wedding.” Her eyes filled with tears and her hands covered with her mouth when he told her of Charles’s ailment as well as his prognosis.
When she let her hands drop from her face, a single tear tracked down her cheek. “Naught can be done?”
Henry shook his head. “I aim to speak with his physician and the teacher. I wish to learn this language Charles spoke of and when I enquired of the lessons, I included you in my query. I hope I did not overstep.”
His wife’s head shook vigorously. “Of course not. You know I would insist upon learning.”
“The girls will take lessons as well. I will not see Charles isolated.” His brother would never survive the lack of society.
She slid closer and into his arms. “We shall ensure he is not. He will always be part of our family party, even should we need to force him. He could live with us for the rest of his life if he desired it.”
He held her tight to him for a time before he released her and scrubbed his face. “I am exhausted.”
Her palm rested against his cheek, her eyes worried. “Perhaps we should nap before dinner.”
His fingers trailed along her neck and jaw. “You would not mind?” He loved how soft she was.
After she shook her head, he kissed her forehead and helped her stand. “If your maid is not in your dressing room, ring for her. We shall change and meet back here. I should like to hold you if you do not object.”
She gave a beautiful smile. “I would not object. I know I would be comforted with you beside me as well.”
He waited until she disappeared into her dressing room before seeking out his valet. Once he was readied for bed and wearing his dressing gown, he returned to Jane’s bedchamber, poured a glass of brandy, and sipped while he awaited her.
When she entered, he stood dumb for a moment while he drank her in. Yes, she wore a dressing gown just as he did, but her hair was plaited and hung over her shoulder as it had that morning he had found her with Jules. He set down his glass as she approached. His hand lifted so he could finger the braid.
“May I release this?”
“You want to see my hair?”
“I have often wondered what it looks like.” How many dreams had she approached him with her golden locks tumbling about her shoulders?
After she gave her consent, he untied the ribbon and ran his fingers through the soft tresses that poured like silk through his fingers. He drew her into his arms and found her trembling.
“Do not be nervous. I truly do mean to sleep for a time.”
They removed their dressing gowns, and once she was within the covers, he joined her. As soon as he had settled, she curled up to his side with her head on his chest. He kissed her crown and rubbed his hand up and down her back. How did so simple a gesture provide such contentment? Within moments, he succumbed to his dreams.
Jane slowly awakened. She blinked a couple of times and groaned. She had been dreaming of Henry again. The place between her legs throbbed, begging for relief, and her entire body was heated—more than heated.
As more of her surroundings returned to her, she gave a sharp inhale at a frisson that travelled through her and glanced down to a very male arm wrapped around her from behind, disappearing under the covers and the sensation of suckling at the crook of her neck.
“Henry?” It was no wonder that ache was not abating.
“If you were expecting someone else, I might have had to call them out,” he growled before resuming those distracting kisses along the top of her shoulder. He held her back tight to his chest while he continued those ministrations that had caused her to awaken—not that she was complaining. He needed to finish what he had started.
Her hand followed his arm under the coverlet to where he caressed between her legs, making any and all rational thought impossible. A pulse of something shot from her core through her, and she wound an arm behind her to cling to his hair, to anchor herself to him.
At another brush of that sensitive spot, she squeezed her eyes closed which only made the pleasure more intense. How much more could she take before expiring?
While she struggled to endure the sweet torture, the arm under her began to knead her breast at the same time he continued his ministrations, doing all he could to make her lose herself. Her body writhed, and she was unable to stop the movement. He had taken over control of her being, and she could do naught but let him have his way—not that she would or could complain of what he was doing.
His hips ground against her buttocks while she grasped the sheet upon the mattress and gripped. Her breaths came in pants as the waves consuming her grew and grew. How did people survive this? One more flick of his finger over that sensitive spot caused her to be sucked under the tide, stars exploding under her eyelids. She could not move; she could not prevent the cry that burst from her lungs. She could do naught but let the pleasure wash over her while he continued that sweet torture.
As she opened her eyes, he made her to lie on her back and shifted so he hovered over her on one elbow. He had removed his nightshirt. Had he done so before he had awakened her or just now?
His large hands stroked her thighs and buttocks while he buried his head in her neck. “Jane, may I see you?” His hips ground against her while he breathed heavily against her shoulder.
“See me?”
“Remove your nightgown? I want to see you, to feel your flesh against mine.” That ache between her legs flared once again, but could she, should she bare herself to him? She bit her lip while he rested his body weight on one arm and ran his free hand under her shift. When he found her nipple, he toyed and caressed until she began to lose herself once more.
“Yes,” she said as she began to tug her nightgown upwards. If his fingers could bring her so much pleasure, what would having every inch of him bare against her, flesh to flesh, do?
He aided her in removing the impediment, and once she was laid out before him, his eyes trailed from her face down to what had been hidden beneath the thin linen. Before this moment, she would have imagined hiding herself with her arms in a situation such as this, yet his heated gaze prevented her from reflexively covering herself. His fingers trailed along while he studied every inch of her. “Good God! My dreams did not do you justice.”
His lips claimed hers, and when he pressed against her almost from chest to toe, she welcomed the weight of him. The smattering of hair on his chest rubbed against her nipples, which stimulated her core further, while the hand not supporting him wrapped around to her rear and pulled her even closer.
Their kisses became increasingly hungry while he learnt every curve and dip of her breasts, her stomach, and her hips. Her breathing had quickened and her heart beat so fast it rendered her lightheaded. How was it possible such pleasure existed? She was drowning in every touch of their bodies, and she never wanted it to end!
By the time his fingers returned to repeat those earlier ministrations that had brought her such pleasure, she could have wept in relief. Her body required something more than the release he had given her before, and she writhed against his wicked fingers in an attempt to increase the pressure.
He trailed his lips down her neck and took her nipple into his mouth, nibbling and suckling one then repeating those attentions to its mate. This was too much.
“Henry…”
His lips pressed kisses to her stomach and hip bone as he sat on his haunches. “What is it, Jane?”
“I need…” What did she need? She truly had no idea.
Their gazes held as he entered her with one finger. She should have been disconcerted by his attention there, but as it moved within her, pressed in a way that increased the sensation of what he had done before, she could not muster the embarrassment. Instead, her senses climbed as they had done earlier, then climbed some more. He would render her mad if he continued.
The ache he stoked bloomed and spread, her back arched, and she clenched the bedsheets once again as she neared a peak greater than the one she had just experienced. The moment she made to fall, something significantly larger replaced his finger, and she opened her eyes at the intrusion.
“Are you well?” he asked. He now hovered over her again, moving as whatever it was inside her moved. While she had been told this could hurt, no sharp pain accompanied their joining. Instead, an almost uncomfortable stretching occurred that the movement seemed to soothe.
She struggled to nod, and her eyes burned as she fought tears. They were one in a way that could not be undone—this was more than signing the register or the words in their marriage settlement. He was a part of her, and she was a part of him. She was his wife in every way. Her heart soared and filled in a manner she had never experienced before.
At some point, she had begun to believe this would never happen. No man would love her or want to marry her, then this wonderful gentleman entered her world. One day, they would have children created in their love, and Henry would be a part of her and her life forever.
He slipped a hand around her hip and lifted so she met him thrust for thrust, which made him press deeper. She gave a small cry at the jolt of pleasure. He reached further now than he had before. The burn that began to spread through her made her grasp his hips and dig her nails into the soft flesh.
His gaze met hers and held. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too.” A warm dampness trickled down her temple as he dipped his face to hers and kissed her until she was breathless.
Her legs were bent at the knees, cradling him between them, as one of his hands moved between them. As soon as he brushed that place that had brought her to rapture before, she increased her pull at his hips. She needed him—all of him—but how was she to have it?
Those deep thrusts combined with the torture of his fingers made her eyes roll and her toes curl. She was so close! She could not even control the sounds she made nor how her body responded, seeking without thought to reach that peak she craved with every part of her.
The keening cry she made when her body froze beneath him was foreign to her ears, and she could do naught but cling to Henry while she succumbed to what was happening. Her husband’s movements quickened while his forehead pressed against her shoulder and soft grunts accompanied his rhythm. Within moments, he lifted his head, and a great bellow joined her almost sobs as her peak ebbed. When he collapsed atop her, his chest heaved as though he had been running, a sheen of sweat all but melding them together.
They lay thus entwined for some time. Jane’s arms wrapped around him as she held him to her. If only he never had to leave her. This was so perfect that she had no wish for him to remove all that firm muscle from her. Another tear trickled down her temple, and she wiped it away. Her arm wrapped back around him.
“I would wish to remain thus, but you must tell me if I am too heavy.” He moved just enough to bestow a kiss upon the top of her breast.
“You are not too heavy.”
He propped his head on his hand and frowned at the sight of her. “Why are you crying? Did I hurt you?”
As he had begun to lift himself, she shook her head and choked back a sob while she tugged him back. “No, not like I would have expected. I am just overwhelmed.” At his doubtful expression, she cradled his face in her palms. “Truly, I am better than I thought possible, and I never want to leave this bed, which will be a problem we shall be forced to address otherwise we shall not eat.”
He chuckled. “You may consider that a problem, but I believe your desire to be a blessing, my love.”