24
The house Helena had rented for them was lovely.
It was built in light sandstones and situated outside of town but still within walking distance.
It had a large garden with lots of trees, shrubberies, and flowers in bloom, and it was right next to the ocean.
The air was fresh and clean, and Jo breathed it in as she opened the garden gate and hurried down the trail to the beach.
The teal water glimmered below her, and the beach stretched untouched for miles.
She wore one of her old dresses, one she could fasten herself, and carried a shawl and straw bonnet mostly for show.
In the kitchen, she took several fresh rolls and disrupted the morning order by asking for a leather flask of water.
It took five minutes to find one, and all the while Jo listened for any sound upstairs that might mean Robert was awake.
When the flask was found, she had hurried outside, gratefully taking the small basket that the cook had prepared for her with a few pieces of fruit, more rolls and cold cuts of ham wrapped in linen.
The path wound through tough grass which was slightly damp from the rain last night. But this was the beach and Jo did not bother lifting her skirt; there was no one to witness if the hem got wet. Finally she was standing with her boots in the sand.
Jo inhaled deeply again as she looked at the beach in front of her.
It was completely empty, although when she looked toward the city, she could see a few people there.
They were too far away for her to hear or even identify, and she hurriedly turned her back on them and started walking in the opposite direction.
She needed to be alone, to process all that had happened to her in the past fortnight but especially the last two days.
Her mind instantly circled to the conversation she had overheard in the dressing room early last morning. The one she could not banish from her mind.
“Did you hear that the duke slept in her bed last night?” Miss Fletcher’s whisper had been evident through the door to the dressing room.
Jo had stiffened in her position curled against Robert’s side.
She dared not lift her head to look at him, but his regular breathing told her that he was still sleeping.
“I know,” one of the housemaids had answered in a disbelieving voice. “Do you think they finally…?” The girl’s voice had trailed off suggestively. Jo had recognized it as Abigail, the one with the mousy hair and pointy nose.
“No,” Miss Fletcher had answered with glee. “Look, what I found. There is no blood.”
Both girls had giggled and Jo had felt herself going even warmer against Robert’s side than she already was when she realized what it was. The cloth Robert had used to clean her as well as himself when they had found each other during the night.
“Do you think that he… alone?” Abigail asked gleefully. “Or do you think that she…” Her voice turned up in both volume and pitch as she delivered this scandalous suggestion.
Miss Fletcher shushed her just as loudly, which seemed counterproductive.
“I don’t know,” Miss Fletcher answered while Jo started moving away from Robert, inch by inch, so as not to wake him. “I don’t understand why she is not sleeping with him. I know I would if he ever showed me any interest.”
“You know he was completely besotted with that Lady Egerton,” Abigail said in the voice of someone who had important news to share.
“I know,” Miss Fletcher said in the voice of someone being told old news.
“I cannot believe she married a prince,” Abigail said dreamily.
“A Prussian prince,” Miss Fletcher scoffed.
“I would take a French prince if it would make me a princess.”
“Traitor. And there are no princes in France. I think.”
There was the rustling of clothes. The women must be packing up the final items in Jo’s trunk.
She was on the edge of the bed now. Robert was still lying on his side with his face toward her.
He looked young and peaceful in his sleep.
It gave Jo the urge to take care of him, even though she reprimanded herself that everyone looked more vulnerable when they slept.
She had been mortified to enter the dressing room aware that the two young women knew intimate details of what she and Robert had done last night, but it seemed better, easier at least, than being there when Robert woke up.
Suddenly, the girls’ giggles had made her unsure of everything they had done last night. It had felt so right at the time. Like they were finally on the same path, on the same page, and somehow the girls had tainted that.
Jo now bent to pick up a pretty shell and placed it in a secret pocket in her skirt. The wind was fresher here than up at the house and she drew her shawl closer around her shoulders as she looked out over the sea.
Lady Egerton.
Jo had, of course, heard the name. A woman some five or so years older than herself who was said to be very beautiful and charming.
She had been widowed last year after her much older husband had died.
Everyone had been talking about it last autumn, when the rumors reached Hampshire that she was marrying a Prussian prince.
It was a surprise to Jo though that Robert knew her. Had been besotted with her as Miss Fletcher had called it. What did that mean? Sexually attracted? Or in love?
Her mouth went dry at either option.
And she felt foolish for caring. She knew Robert had been with other women.
It would be unusual if he had not, but she had been aware of the few hints he had given her to it as well, like when he mentioned that French Letters ‘had worked for him in the past’.
Jo had filed the information away at the time, since they had been discussing other matters and she did not want to question it.
She was not certain she ever wanted to question it.
His skills at kissing her and touching her also hinted at previous experiences.
Even though there seemed to be a simplicity to it with the repetition of motions, she was fairly certain that it did require practice to become so talented.
At least he would have seemed a little more hesitant if he had never been with another woman, she reasoned.
Jo stomped on as she tried to analyze what the problem was.
Since she had not expected him to be inexperienced, it seemed like double standards that she was jealous when she knew which particular woman he had been with.
A movement in the water caught her eye and Jo stopped to look out to sea.
She could not see anything, perhaps it had been an illusion at the corner of her eye.
She waited another moment, hoping to see the nose or tail of a dolphin, but the water remained quiet except for the unrelenting rolling of the waves.
Jo’s thoughts immediately returned to Robert and Lady Egerton as she started walking again.
She did not like that he had slept with Lady Egerton when she was married or in mourning over her husband.
It made Jo fear how he viewed their marriage vows, if he helped another break theirs.
He had promised in their agreement not to be unfaithful though and part of her still believed him.
It had seemed insurmountable to her to talk to him about it yesterday when they had been sitting opposite each other in the carriage. She knew she needed time away from him to process whatever he said and the last thing the carriage offered was that.
She had been grateful that she had been able to sleep for the first leg of their travel and then busy herself with reading on the second half of it. The third leg of their travel had given her too much time to think and watch Robert’s focused face as he finished The Orphan’s Ordeal.
Her mind had kept straying to what they had done to each other the night before and exactly how they might do it in the carriage as well.
Even though the last thing she needed was more of their servants being aware of their intimate life.
She had been acutely aware that there had been both a driver and two footmen right outside.
Heavens, she did not make sense.
Jo picked up a large rock and threw it into the sea, quickly followed by several others.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” she shouted with each throw.
She both wanted him desperately and wanted to tear his hair out for being with Lady Egerton. For sleeping with her. For caring about her. For loving her.
“Stupid,” Jo muttered under her breath as she threw the final rock and turned to walk even faster down the beach, even though it was difficult in the pebbly sand.
Jo recognized that it was inevitable that their servants knew a lot about their intimate lives. They changed their sheets, washed their clothes, even the cloths she used for her monthly blood; they lit the fireplaces while they were still in bed and accompanied them on all sorts of errands.
When she lived with her uncle there had of course been servants as well to keep them comfortable.
But she had known them – and she had not been a married woman at that time.
About to embark on sleeping with her husband.
It was a matter she wished to be between the two of them for as long as possible.
Preferably forever. It was so private and felt so vulnerable to her that it felt almost like a violation that the entire townhouse would be privy to it.
Perhaps it would be easier if they slept together here for the first time. Most of the staff that worked in the house were from Brighton and belonged to the house, not them. Though Miss Fletcher had of course accompanied her and Robert’s valet as well. Plus their driver and several others.
If the housemaids told Miss Fletcher about their dirty sheets, their entire staff would know once they traveled to Riddlesmarsh Hall.
Jo blushed at the thought, then realized that the heat in her cheeks was not merely due to her feelings.
The sun was higher in the sky now and it was much warmer.
She halted in her tracks to look at it for a minute while lowering the shawl around her shoulders.
She might have to wear the bonnet after all to not burn her skin.
The freckles were one thing, but she did not wish for peeling skin.
She pulled on her bonnet and continued walking. She already felt calmer from the distance she had covered. The beach had narrowed as the cliff rose on her left-hand side but was still plenty wide for her to walk on.
A couple of hours later, Jo felt exhausted, her legs were hurting in a nice way, her mind was completely empty and her stomach growled loudly.
She had passed the small town of Ovingdean where she had greeted a few people with a nod but had otherwise not encountered anyone.
She found a spot where she could rest and eat while looking out over the sea.
She should head back after this, Jo mused.
She was not certain how long she had been gone for, but she needed to talk to Robert once she returned.
The walk had given her some clarity even though she felt she was still in the same place.
It seemed easier to speak to him now than it had last morning in London or the carriage ride here.
Certainly much easier than last night when they had said a hurried goodnight before heading into different bedrooms.
She would tell him that she had overheard the servants and that it had embarrassed her. Then perhaps he could figure out ideas for them to be as discreet as possible while they explored the physical side of their relationship. Until she hopefully became more comfortable with it.
It had to be because it was something new, she mused.
She remembered feeling the same way when her courses had started and she was instructed by her uncle’s housekeeper to place the dirty cloths in a porcelain bowl in her dressing room.
After a couple of years, perhaps even less, it had become second nature for her to do so.
It might be the same with this experience.
It would be the easy part of their conversation, though.
Perhaps she should start by asking Robert about Lady Egerton.
Jo had debated whether she had a right to know if he was in love with Lady Egerton or not.
She kept coming back to the fact that they had agreed to be honest with each other, and she wanted him to be.
Even though she was not certain why she wanted to know – and how she would react if he said yes.
It would obviously have been difficult for Robert to be cast aside by someone with a higher title than him. Especially if he had been in love with the woman.
Jo’s stomach turned at the thought, even though she should not care.
He had never promised her that he would love her, nor had she ever expected him to.
She should be grateful that he found her attractive and was not embarrassed of her as she had feared.
But now that that misunderstanding had been resolved, it had given way to other worries.
Jo groaned and hid her head in her hands. She had wanted something simple. Something transactional and comfortable. And Robert was so far from it.