To Protect and to Cherish (18 page)

“Jillian, we will produce an heir eventually,” he looked down at his stocking-clad feet. “Go to bed.”

His words cut her to the core. He had just admitted he wanted nothing more than to produce an heir with her. Perhaps he did not enjoy the effort as she assumed and wished to postpone it.

She turned and went to her room, leaving the door open between his and hers.

She had just climbed into bed when she heard the door snick shut. Jillian turned her face into her pillow and wept.

She did not rise to greet him in the morning, and the following evening, she debated whether to go await her husband in his room. His repeat
ed rejections hurt, but she had had all day to think about his reaction.

Jillian did not believe her husband was only disappointed over the lack of an heir. He was acting out because of something else, but she had no idea what it was. If he would speak to her, it would help to clear the air.

She dined alone – a habit she was fast tiring of – and then went to wait in their sitting room.

“You look tired,” she commented
as he came in.

He was clearly annoyed to see her there.

“You would sleep better if I was next to you,” she forced herself to be bold.

His start at her words nearly made her smile.

But his words drove all amusement away, “You thrash around in your sleep, Jillian. It is more likely to keep me awake than lull me to sleep.”

Jillian bit back the sob that wanted to escape at his harsh words.

He turned to go, but she stopped him.

“I am sorry, Slade. For whatever I did. I am sorry I hurt you.”

He stood with his back to her.

“I know you are not rejecting me because I am not with child or because you are tired of me.”

Slade didn’t turn, but she thought she saw a shudder move through his frame. How she wished to hold him and tell him everything would be right in the end. She remembered how he reacted the last time she touched him, so she resisted.

“I need to get some sleep,” he finally spoke
.

Jillian watched him turn the knob, enter his room, and close the door behind himself with a finality that could not be ignored.

Jillian awoke to sounds of confusion in the chamber next to hers.

She wrapped herself in her dressing gown and opened the door between her room and her husband’s.

Slade was directing two footmen to carry out a trunk.

She waited until they had left and then entered her husband’s room.

“Are you going somewhere?” she knew she must be a wreck. Her face probably still had pillow marks and her hair was tangled about her face and shoulders.

The look on Slade’s face, however, was unadulterated desire. He stared at her for several moments before he recalled himself.

“I am going to London,” his voice caught in his throat, but Jillian comprehended them anyway.

“To escape my presence?” she reached up and pulled her hair back from her face.

He shook his head, but his eyes told her different.

She felt a wave of defeat wash over her, “Do you plan to stay there long?”

He shook his head, trying – and failing – not to look at her, “I will be back within a week.”

She closed her eyes, “I will miss you.”

“Will you?” the words were cynical and they cut.

She looked up at him and fought back, “I have already missed you, Slade.
Because you have already left me.”

She did not wait for him to
reject her this time. She backed up a step before spinning around and dashing into her room, slamming the portal behind her.

He didn’t follow her, but she
couldn’t stop herself from the foolish hope that he would.

A week later, Jillian received a short letter from her husband telling her he would be another week.

Amy came over to visit.

“I wonder at Slade staying away so long,” she clearly did not realize the pain she was causing. “He has never cared for London, and you are not even there to ease his boredom.”

Jillian sipped her tea to avoid answering.

“I have some news.” Amy leaned forward.

Jillian set her cup down, “Yes?”

“Anthony and I are going to be parents,” she smiled broadly. “After two years of marriage, we were beginning to think it would not happen.”

Jillian blinked back tears, “Amy I am so pleased for you.”

The other woman smiled, “It means no more horseback riding, of course.”

Jillian knew that was no loss to the other woman as she hardly enjoyed her time on the animal.

“I have not told Slade yet, but I wanted to do it in person
. I so wonder at him staying away this long.”

Jillian rose abruptly, “Would you like to see the new puppies? They just arrived two days ago.”

Amy chattered on about her own expected arrival all the way to the barn where the puppies were born.

Jillian tried to find something pleasant in the conversation, but Amy would not stop mentioning how happy she and Anthony were. Finally, Amy noticed her friend’s quiet.

“I am sorry, Jill,” she lay a hand on her arm as they stood in the doorway of the great building. “I remember how difficult it was when other women were bearing children, and I could not.”

Jillian swiped away a tear, “It is not that, Amy,” she led the woman to the corner where the puppies were sleeping, “I just miss Slade.”

Amy lay a hand on Jillian’s arm, “Are you sure that is all? Perhaps you are emotional because you are expecting as well.”

Amy seemed so pleased by the idea, but Jillian dashed that hope immediately, “That is not it, Amy.”

She knelt down and touched the soft fur of the mother, “I know I am not expecting.”

Amy knelt as well, “Why didn’t you go with Slade, Jill? Or go now? Anthony and I could take you.”

“He doesn’t want me there,” Jillian admitted the truth. “He left because he wanted to get away from me.”

Amy shook her head, “That cannot be true, Jillian. My brother adores you.”

Jillian shook her head, “I think he did once, but he does not anymore.”

Amy took her hands, “What happened?”

Jillian felt tears slipping down her cheeks. She shrugged in confusion.

Amy shook her head, “Slade has never been unreasonable, Jillian. Something must have happened.”

Jillian tried not to resent the implication that this disharmony was all her fault, “I asked. He refuses to tell me.”

Amy stood up and pulled her friend to her feet, “We will have to find out by other means, then.”

Jillian followed Amy back to the house to listen to her advice, but she flatly refused to go to London to find her husband, sure that he would not appreciate his sister and brother’s involvement.

“I will just go there with Anthony and speak to him myself then,” Amy declared.

Jillian appreciated the concern, “You will only succeed in making him feel disrespected, Amy. I do not know what the problem is, but I am almost certain it involves his pride.”

“He has been acting like a wounded bear?” she guessed.

Jillian nodded, “I have never actually seen a bear – much less a wounded one, but I am familiar with the concept. I have done something to injure him, but I cannot figure it out, and he isn’t saying.”

Amy hugged her, “I will pray this trip to town helps him to cool down. Perhaps he is missing you enough to let go of his pride.”

He was not.

CHAPTER
13

Slade arrived home the middle of February – a full month after he left home.

“It is good to see you,” she meant it too. The return of his strong presence in the home was welcome even though she could see he was still not ready to reconcile with her.

His face looked gaunt as though he had not been eating properly. His hair had grown longer, and he had clearly not shaved in a few days.

“It is nice to see you as well, Jillian,” his tone was as cold and formal as she had ever heard it.

“Will you be dining with me this evening?” she asked him as Mrs. Bailey was taking his hat from him.

He looked annoyed at having to keep up any pretense, “Yes, I will.”

Jillian smiled at him
. It occurred to her she should always ask things of him in the presence of servants. His desire to have all look normal would prevent him from refusing her anything.

He did not allow her to glory in her victory very long. He bowed slightly and went into his study, closing the door firmly behind himself.

Jillian waited for him in the sitting room, all the while knowing it would irk him.

He came out, dressed for dinner, and held out his arm.

She would have rather taken his hand, but he did not offer that.

“Did you have a good journey home?”

“I did, thank you,” he walked with his arm as far away from his body as possible.

“It seems as though it is getting colder these last few days.”

He led her down the staircase, “It is.”

“Will we have snow?”

“I believe we may.”

She knew she risked getting him angry, but she assumed it would not be worse the coldness. She spoke again just before they reached the dining room, “I am amazed you came home then.”

He looked down at her in confusion.

She allowed him to seat her and glanced to be sure no staff was yet in the room.

“The roads would have been impassable. You would have been excused from returning for some time to come.”

Jillian was sure her softly spoken words were still heard because she saw her husband’s handsome face
turn pink.

“Would that have been an agreeable situation for you?” his jaw twitched.

“Not at all, I assure you,” her polite words answered his civil ones.

He stopped speaking as the maids brought in the meal.

He dismissed them immediately after, but neither party was under the assumption they had any privacy.

“I will begin trenching next week if the weather does not turn foul.”

Jillian swallowed hard. She could not force the fork to her lips, and she struggled to contain the tears that wanted to fall.

Slade did not seem to notice.

“I imagine I will be gone many hours during the process.”

Jillian nodded.

“You do not need to get up in the mornings.”

Jillian understood his message. He would appreciate seeing her as little as possible.

She rose quickly and left the dining room, no longer interested in trying to keep up the charade for the servants.

Slade did not follow her up or call to her, but she heard him ask Erin later about her welfare.

The snow did come. It fell so fast and heavy that Slade had a morning during which he was trapped in the great house with no excuse to escape.

Jillian felt his restlessness. Had they not been at odds, she would have enjoyed the time with him, but she had trouble relaxing – knowing he was around the corner stewing about being imprisoned with her.

“Would you care for tea?” she dared to seek him out in his study.

“I am not hungry,” he
looked back at his paper.

Jillian began to close the door but he stopped her, “Could you ask Bailey to send something in here about four?”

She stopped and looked at him for a moment.

He kept drawing lines on his paper. She stepped into the room and shut the door behind herself.

He did not look at her.

She moved silently across the floor and stood in front of him – waiting for him to acknowledge her.

He finally looked up, “What do you need, Jillian?”

She placed her hands down on his desk and leaned toward him, “Am I so repulsive that you do not want even to dine with me?”

Slade blinked.

“Is that not why you want Bailey to bring you tea at four? So you will not be hungry for dinner?”

“Jillian,” his mouth was tight and annoyed, “I am simply in the middle of something.”

She grabbed his pencil from his hand and threw it across the room, “I do not care,” she snapped at him. “I do not care one whit if you are in the middle of something. You have refused to tell me how I have offended you, but you continue to hold it against me anyway.”

He stood up and looked down at her.

She shot around the desk so she could stand nearer to him. Even in her anger, she wanted to feel his presence.

“For years my uncle hit me,” she was so close she could feel his breath on her face, “it wasn’t until he threatened to do worse that I left.”

Pain registered in Slade’s eyes, “I know that.”

“What you don’t know, Slade,” she moved slightly so her torso was pressed against his, “is that the pain he caused me was nothing compared to what you are doing to me now.”