Her One True Love (12 page)

He trod upon very dangerous ground.

Once they entered the Circus, she increased her pace as if she wanted to run for her house situated at the end of the terrace. The notion that she was so desperate to be away from him snapped Matthew's restraint in two. He refused to have her dislike him now. Not when he would do all in his power to orchestrate a future in which he could freely love her.

He frowned. “I've apologized for kissing you. There is no need to treat me as though I am diseased.”

She shook her head and tutted, continuing forward, only to draw to a halt outside the pathway of her house. She tipped her head back and met his gaze. “For your information, I have no regrets about our kiss. I only regret that I wasted my energy by matching your fervor during that brief moment of madness. You are clearly confused, and suffering, after Elizabeth's infidelity. I think it best you return to Biddestone in the morning.” She looked to her purse and removed her key. “I will do well enough alone at the Board tomorrow. I thank you for your offer to accompany—”

“I am coming with you whether you want me there or not.” His amusement at her frayed temper vanished the instant she mentioned Elizabeth. Rather than cooling his desire for her, the reference echoing Adam's that Matthew suffered from some kind of heartbreak that caused an inability to think straight was about as much as he would stand for.

She glared. “I said I wish to go alone.”

“I don't care.”

“Why, you—”

“Walk with me.” He grasped her elbow and stepped away from the house.

She yanked away from him and he released her.

Their gazes locked.

Her bright hazel eyes shone with anger, her body rigid, but for the pulse beating in the hollow of her throat. “Where are we going?”

“It's a surprise.”

Turning around, he stepped along the path, relief speeding his heart when he heard her exasperated sigh followed by her hurried footsteps behind him. He slowed until she was at his side.

She stared. “I demand to know where you are taking me.”

“I am taking you nowhere, you are walking of your own free will.”

She emitted a cry of frustration and hot satisfaction roared through his blood. The passion unfurling inside him was a new and exciting sensation. Through all the years of trying to ignite any sort of flame in his relationship with Elizabeth, nothing like this barely controlled heat had swept over him before.

For the first time in two long years, life and energy stirred in his blood—and it was Jane who had caused it. With sudden clarity, Matthew sensed he would succeed at whatever he put his mind to, without fear of condescension and ridicule, with Jane by his side. Whenever he was with her, he did not fight the urge to escape, desperate for distance from her, as he had with Elizabeth. Instead, he wanted to be close . . . preposterously close.

Her words and subsequent dismissal of him had stirred awake animalistic feelings that had no place around a lady, yet Jane was a woman like no other. There was no doubt in his mind, she would match his passions and he intended to test the theory right there and then.

“Matthew, if you continue on this magical mystery tour, I will have no choice but to assume you are leading me somewhere I have no desire to go. You are no gentleman. You are—”

“In here.” He led her into an alley. “I want to try something.”

“You want to . . .” Her eyes widened as her gaze darted around the darkened space. “What on earth has gotten into you? Are you mad?”

He eased her against the wall and she stared at him, her eyes wide with confusion, yet absent of fear. An assured sign she trusted him—even if she did not particularly like him at that moment. He stepped closer and put his palms on the wall on either side of her face. Arousal, need, and want pulsed through him on a hot, undulating wave.

“Why would you say I am still suffering from Elizabeth's infidelity? I no longer care what she has done.”

“You're lying. Again.” She glared. “The least you can do is lend me your honesty. I might have been a fool to let you kiss me, but I will not stand by and let you disregard my intelligence in much the same way you have our kiss.”

Irritation flared and he dropped his chin, grappling to maintain control and not show her with a second kiss how little he cared for Elizabeth. Jane's harried breaths whispered across the fallen hair on his forehead.

He lifted his chin and met her widened gaze. “I care about the failure to deliver on a dying promise to my father, that is all that concerns me. My anger and frustration, my misery, have nothing to do with something as ridiculous as lost love.”

She flinched as though he'd struck her. “You think people who mourn over a lost love are ridiculous?”

“Of course. Don't you?”

She stared at him, her chest rising and falling. “I want to leave. Move out of the way.”

Matthew frowned. Were those tears in her eyes? “Do you not understand what I am saying?”

She faced the entranceway of the alley and huffed out a laugh. “I understand you perfectly.”

The derision in her tone was like a flint to a flame. Frustration sped his heart as he touched her chin and turned her face to his. “What do you mean?”

Her eyes burned with anger. “I mean, you are not who I thought you were. It means you are cold and unfeeling. A man who has no time for love. I mean, the farther I am away from you, the happier I will be.”

His heart beat fast with unexpected hurt and unwanted panic. He had finally seen the light of who this wonderful woman was, and instead of them embracing, his words and actions had extinguished the light from deep inside her.

Taking a step back, Matthew swiped a hand over his face. “I will walk you home.”

“Thank you.”

She stepped forward and he halted her with a hand on her arm, his gaze searching hers as determination that she not despise or forget him rushed through his body. “This is my truth, Jane. My father's wishes have haunted the entirety of my adult life.”

She stilled.

He clenched his jaw. “But of all the questions you have asked me, there is one you were absolutely right to ask.”

She frowned. “Which was?”

“Am I mad.”

A flash of concern passed through her gaze before she straightened her spine. “Why was I right to ask you that? Because you are displaying your insanity by bringing me into this dark, dank alley where one scream from me and the police might come running?”

“Not at all. I believe I am quite mad and growing madder every day. You . . .” He shook his head, roaming his gaze over her face to rest on her beautiful, soft mouth. “I have never seen this passion, this unshakeable confidence in you when we were in Biddestone. In just a few days, the city has brought you alive. It is that which might just send me quite insane if I am forever barred from witnessing it over and over again. You're . . .” Impatience to taste her again tore through him. To halt it would be fruitless. “Damnation.”

Matthew cupped his hands to her jaw and claimed her mouth.

She stiffened before mewing softly into his mouth and gripping his shoulders. She pulled him forward and increased the intensity of her kiss, sending every ounce of adrenaline to his cock. For the love of God. He moaned and stepped closer to grasp her waist, bringing her flat against his chest. Her breasts pressed against him, sending his arousal higher. He put his tongue to hers, and she returned his claim by meeting him with equal intensity.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she murmured and trembled against him. He held her tighter and kissed her deeper until he pulled back, fearing he might devour her whole if he continued.

Their gazes locked, and their harried breaths fell into sync. Her eyes were heavy with lust and his groin ached with need. With her hair mildly disheveled, her eyes wide and wild, she had never looked more beautiful or more perilous to his heart and mind.

He released her and stepped back.

J
ane's fingers trembled as she pushed the key into the lock of her front door and entered the house. Awareness of Matthew following her inside, and her traitorous desire for him, skittered over the surface of her skin. She waited, hoping for her previous determination to quash her feelings for him to return, but nothing but her love remained. Maybe it wasn't just Matthew she should accuse of losing his mind, but herself too.

It was futile denying her want of him. She did, so much, but that didn't mean she would default on her decision not to commit adultery or banish her need to become the woman she wanted to be.

The door closed behind her, and Jane briefly closed her eyes before she turned to face him. His gaze burned with a raw need she hadn't seen before, his pallor more pale than it had been all evening. Fear of the unknown rose and lodged in her chest as she took a step toward him.

A creak on the stairs halted her.

“Jane? Is that you?” Jeannie's voice drifted from above.

Jane kept her gaze on Matthew's. “It's me, Jeannie. Go back to bed. I'll be up shortly.”

“Is Squire Cleaves with you? You didn't walk home alone, did you?”

Jane smiled softly. “No, the squire is here. I am quite all right.”

“Good. Night, night, Jane. 'Night, Squire.”

Matthew smiled, his gaze not leaving Jane's. “Good night, Jeannie.”

Jeanne's footsteps faded as she returned to her bedroom.

Ensconced in tense silence once more, Jane took a deep breath. “We can't pursue this, Matthew. I won't commit adultery with you.”

“I would neither ask nor expect such a thing.”

Jane closed her eyes. “I don't know what to think or say.” She opened her eyes. “All I know is the disappointment I felt when you spoke with such scorn about people who mourn lost love. It hurt.” She blinked against the stinging in her eyes. “There are so many people you have known, or still know, who have suffered the pain of losing someone they love. It isn't right you should dismiss such feelings as petty.”

“Jane.” He closed the space between them and took her hand. “I didn't mean to upset you. It's just—”

“No. You need to understand.” She eased her hand from his and shook her head, her heart beating fast. “When you said those things, I never wanted to look at your handsome face again, then you took me in your arms and kissed me. Then . . . then I . . .”

He reached for her again and again she stepped back. “I wanted you more than ever before. I wanted your kiss again . . . maybe even invite you into my bed. What sort of woman does that make me? I am good and caring. Loyal and loving. If you make me feel these other things . . .”

He stepped forward and this time grasped her hand tightly, his eyes burning with passion. “Then all it means is you care for me and want to be with me. Those feelings are nothing to be ashamed of. If you feel ashamed, then I am too. We can be together. I know we can. We just have to be patient.”

Jane's heart ached to see such deep anguish in his gaze. There was no rage, no anger, not even a trace of the moroseness she had seen so many times in his eyes during the preceding months. He stood in front of her as the true, loyal, and honest man she'd always loved and admired.

All the months she fought her feelings for him and now he wished to be with her. Tears escaped and rolled over her cheeks. He brushed his thumbs under her eyes, and it took every ounce of her strength not to collapse against him and damn the right and wrong of her yearning.

“Jane, please understand how hard it is for me to see you cry and not fix things to be with you overnight. What is starting between us, what I am feeling, cannot be ignored.”

Jane took a strengthening breath. “I am not the same woman I was a year, even six months ago, Matthew. I've changed. You've changed. Neither of us should rush headlong into the idea of us being together when there are so many other people involved.”

He frowned. “Like Elizabeth?”

She nodded. “And the villagers. And for me, the children at the boardinghouse. I can't stop my dream to do good now that I have found the courage to pursue it.”

“Everything will work out. I will ensure it.”

He smiled softly, the gentle determination in his gaze seeping deep inside her until impassioned hope squeezed like a vise around her weakening heart.

He brushed the curls from her temple and pressed his lips to her forehead. “I have been blind. My sense of pride and loyalty to my father, a man who thought of me as little more than a cog in his ambitious wheel, has meant I wasted two years with a woman I tried hard to make happy. I refuse to waste any more of my life.”

His words twisted and tore at Jane's heart. The last thing she wanted him to do was act impulsively and jeopardize anything that might be good for the people of Biddestone. “So what are we to do now?”

“I have already set in motion plans to speak to Elizabeth about a divorce. Once I have spoken—”

“Divorce?” Jane snatched her hands from his. “You mustn't take a decision to divorce so lightly. How can you be certain your marriage isn't salvageable? I won't be blamed for your divorce. You must at least
try
to reconcile with Elizabeth.”

His eyes shadowed with frustration. “I do not love her, Jane. I have told you this. What is the use in dragging out my marriage when both Elizabeth and I wish to be with other people?”

Shock, guilt, and fear whirled in Jane's mind and heart. “But I can't . . . no, I
won't
be seen as the cause for a divorce. You saw the way Katy and her mother were at the Pump Room. Their scathing words and insinuations were just an inkling of what could happen should we be together so soon. You will go home, back to Biddestone, and hear what Elizabeth has to say about her affair and what led her to take such action. In all the months since she left, you have not behaved like a man better off without his wife, you have acted as someone who lost a wife and suffered a broken heart.”

His eyes flashed dangerously. “I told you—”

“You felt as though you had failed, that you did not love her, I know. But that is not enough for me to start a relationship with you and run the risk of being branded a harlot . . . or give up the life I want now. Speak to Elizabeth and then, when you have explored every avenue, maybe we will find a way to be together. Please, Matthew.”

A muscle flexed and relaxed in his jaw. Jane trembled but defiantly lifted her chin. Tenacity like she had never known flowed through her veins and strengthened her heart. For all her love for him, she had spent too many years under other people's instructions, changing her life to suit their needs and wishes. She would not start a courtship with Matthew under the exact same guise.

The creak of the floorboards sounded overhead, followed by a discreet cough. Jeannie had undoubtedly heard every word of Jane's outpourings. Her cheeks warmed, but she did not look away from Matthew's study.

At last he spoke. “Very well. We will do all we can to secure your position at the house tomorrow, and then I will return home. I think the distance apart will do us both a world of good.”

Jane nodded, her spine rigid as he leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek, before he turned and walked out the door.

 

After a fitful night, Jane stared through her drawing room window as she waited for Matthew to arrive at the house. Guilt over her passionate feelings for another woman's husband had clawed at Jane's conscience throughout breakfast and even now as the day neared midmorning. Not once had Elizabeth treated her with derision or rudeness. Not once had she referred to Jane's admiration of Matthew. Yet, deep in her soul, Jane was certain the squiress had known how Jane wanted him for her own. Didn't all women know when another desired their lover?

The admiring glances, the slight change in her voice whenever she spoke to him. A look, a gesture . . .

Jane turned from the window, her heart heavy. Now Matthew had come to the conclusion they should be together. Would that ever become true?

She was not foolish enough to believe his feelings for her had always been there. Her feelings for him had gone unnoticed for months, years, but she did not hold him to blame for that when she had done little to change or alter his knowledge. She had cared for her parents, looked after the house and tenants, and acted like a damsel waiting to be saved by her knight in shining armor.

The notion was laughable.

Now was a new time. She, a new woman.

What happened now, and in the future, would be decided by her and Matthew's actions, no one else's. They were of age. Their parents had passed. It was time they determined their own destinies without obligation to the previous generation—without guilt.

Jane walked from the drawing room into the hallway and picked up her hat from a small table beneath the wall mirror. She twisted and turned it into position, cursing the trembling in her fingers.

Jeannie came down the stairs, and Jane turned and smiled.

“My goodness, you look lovely. I can see why you insisted you didn't need me there while you shopped for a new dress,” Jane teased. “You are clearly adept at picking colors and cuts to suit you.”

The younger girl blushed. “Do you not recognize it? It was one of Miss Monica's. She sent it to me from Marksville.”

Jane widened her eyes. “So it is. You have altered the collar and added additional buttons! It looks beautiful, Jeannie, truly.”

“Thank you.” Jeannie came forward and joined Jane at the mirror. “I hope everything goes as you want it at the boardinghouse.”

Jane sighed. “So do I. I know by having Squire Cleaves with me, the Board will be more apt to listen to what I have to say, if nothing else.”

“The squire will do everything he can to help you. He is one of the kindest men I know.”

Jane dragged her gaze from Jeannie's reflection and picked up some pins from a small ceramic dish. She set about securing her hat into position. “He is. Most kind.”

“I couldn't help overhearing some of your conversation with the squire last night . . .”

Heat warmed Jane's cheeks as she forced her gaze to Jeannie's. “And?”

Jeannie smiled, youthful hope shining in her pretty eyes. “And I couldn't think of a better-suited couple.”

“You must not even think such things. Matthew and I are friends, nothing more.”

“Of course.” Jeannie continued to smile.

Jane smiled and, turning, playfully swatted Jeannie's arm. “He's married, Jeannie. He needs to do everything he can to save that marriage. Until it's dissolved, I won't take even the smallest step forward in our relationship. Matthew must do whatever is necessary to ensure minimum disruption to the villagers' lives and their belief in his abilities and care for them.”

“Of course.”

“You know as well as I that a squire's life is not his own. He owes it to the villagers to have their concerns always at the forefront of his mind. To do any less would be unfair to the very people he has to thank for his livelihood.”

“Of course.”

Narrowing her eyes, Jane emitted a frustrated growl before turning to face the mirror. Ignoring Jeannie's giggle, Jane smoothed her hands over the lapels of her royal blue jacket trimmed with navy velvet, lower to her hips, and the matching velvet skirt. She hoped the somber, well-cut attire would be enough to evoke her serious intention to do good at the boardinghouse and impress the Board of Guardians enough to give her a post.

Today was about that, above all else.

She lifted her chin and tried in vain to push thoughts of Matthew from her mind.

To be on his arm too soon after a divorce from Elizabeth would incite judgment and gossip that would be detrimental to both Biddestone and Matthew's reputation as a man who did everything as propriety dictated.

She drew in a shaky breath. What choice did she have but to step back once again? “I came here to do good, Jeannie. I will not let the opportunity to prove my worth slip through my fingers. Squire or no squire.”

Jeannie opened her mouth to respond when there was a sharp rap at the door.

Jane started and released her breath. “That is most likely him now.” She widened her eyes in warning at Jeannie. “No nonsense.”

Jeannie dropped a semi-curtsy. “Of course.”

Biting back her smile, Jane shook her head and moved toward the door. She pulled it open. “Matthew.”

His gaze bore into hers and her entire body responded. No matter her resolve to focus on finding work, she couldn't fight the strange, yet pleasant tingle that spread from her head to her toes. Matthew was her one. The one romance novels spoke of—the one who was the other half of her.

He removed his hat and bowed, waving the hat toward the waiting carriage at the edge of the pavement. “Your carriage awaits, ladies.”

Ignoring the thud of her traitorous heart, Jane turned to Jeannie. “Are we ready?”

Jeannie grinned. “Of course.”

Jane briefly closed her eyes before she faced Matthew once more. “Lead the way, kind sir.”

She accepted Simmons's hand as he helped her, then Jeannie, inside the carriage. Matthew followed them aboard. Jane's heart beat faster when he chose to sit beside her rather than on the opposite seat beside Jeannie. She forced her body to remain stationary rather than move closer to the window and purposefully create the distance she felt so necessary. After a moment, the carriage jolted away from the curb and they commenced their journey across the city.