Trust Me (34 page)

It appeared his
stomach had ceased its rebellion.

He slowly stood and
stepped away from the basin.

Yes, he was
completely foxed. Blessedly, numb-mindedly foxed.

Or, he had been until
a moment ago.

But it wasn’t the
drink. He knew his own capabilities in that area.

It had been fear.

Raw, savage,
merciless fear.

 
Last night, watching the horrors of the
accident reclaim Anne, had been hell. In the dragoons, he’d faced battle after
battle with an iron constitution. But this darkness that held Anne in a
chokehold was an enemy that couldn’t be faced. Couldn’t be fought. At least not
on any terms he understood.

All of Mayfair was
whispering about his wife.

His mad wife.

None of it mattered.
Not now. The only thing that mattered was seeing her through this rough patch.
Getting her better.

But what if she
never gets better?

His stomach lurched
and he compressed his lips and balled his fists.

No, damn it. He
couldn’t think like that.

She was so young. She
had lived so isolated, without love, without the simplest of joys that other
young women of her station knew. It would be the greatest injustice if God
should choose this fate for her. Locked inside her mind with nothing but
terrors.

No, she was going to
get better.

He would
make
her
get better.

And then he would spoil
her with every luxury, every happiness. He would devote himself to her.

Yes, he would devote
himself and make sure she got better.

****

Sunlight washed her
chamber. The room shimmered with a feeling of safety.

 
The horrors of last
 
night were far away. Anne sat up and let Nellie settle the
breakfast tray in front of her. Steam rose from a bowl of stew and a cup of
tea. The mad invalid must eat only the blandest foods. But it tasted heavenly,
melting upon her tongue in flavours of salt, rich beef, carrots and celery.

God, she was
starving.

Always starving
lately in the mornings.

Something nagged at
her. Something that might be dreadful, something… Oh yes, that.

“Nellie, I thought I
heard his lordship become ill very early this morning.”

Nellie compressed her
lips. “Mr Toby tells me that his lordship drank a good deal last night.”

“He holds his liquor
better than that.”

“As
I understand, my lady, it was quite an excessive amount.”

The scent of the stew
suddenly became nauseating and Anne’s appetite vanished. She had clung to him,
when he’d come to her last night. Had held onto him fast, drawing from his
strength, grateful for his nearness. But she had not thought of him—of the toll
all of this must be taking on him.

How it must hurt him
to know that his wife was truly mad. How it must destroy all his pride in his
family name. His vision for the future.

She could never be
the mother of his heir now.

His line would die.

His estate would
revert to the crown and be lost forever.

That doctor, the one Jon
had ordered from her bedchamber—indeed, from the house—, had diagnosed her as
being hopelessly insane.

And he had been
right.

All last summer,
she’d thought she was getting better. She had fought hard to be better. Jon had
done his best by her as well.

But she couldn’t
heal.

She was broken beyond
all hope. Broken in her mind. Broken in her spirit.

How much better off
Jon would be without her.

The thought stabbed
her through, for it was a fact. She compressed her lips and twisted the
coverlet in her hands. Oh God, the last thing she’d ever want to do was to hurt
Jon.

What was she to do?

The answer came to
her, a horrible epiphany.

Of course, she knew
what she must do.

****

“Well, do you think I
shall do?” Jon said with a faint, slightly self-mocking grin.

Anne sat up
straighter on the chaise and let her gaze sweep over him. He was dressed in a
coat of superfine blue wool and buff trousers. The colours of the opposition
party. A Whig. A smile tugged at her lips. Of course he would be a little bit
radical. She would have him no other way and he must act according to his
conscience.

It was the opening
day for Parliament.

Gentle warmth filled
her heart, swelling, growing. It was pride. This was what she had dreamt of.
Having a real, responsible nobleman for her husband. For the father of her
children, a father who would raise them to be true aristocrats. Sons who would
not grow up simply to gamble and play and chase petticoats and spend their
inheritances, but to become leaders of men who would take their duty as
noblemen seriously.

She had dreamt of
being this sort of lord’s wife. The lady of the manor, as Jon had teasingly
called her.

But now her secret
dreams were burnt to ashes.

She was no fit wife
for Jon—for any nobleman.

For any man at all.

She was broken. Mad.
Two weeks had passed in a blur since the night of the theatre. She’d been so
weak since then and slept much of the time. The malaise reminded her overmuch
of her time after the accident.

It was all coming
back. She had fooled herself that she was better, stronger.

She would never be
strong again.

If Jon had simply let
this doctor declare her insane, then surely Parliament would grant him a
divorce. He was stubborn on this point but that was only for now. The dowager
would sway him.

Maria Waterbury would
sway him.

His own sense of duty
to the earldom would sway him.

Eventually, he would
divorce her.

If only she could
steal away and present herself to that doctor and allow him to declare her
officially insane.

Jon would have no
choice but to accept his freedom from her.

Grief rose in her
throat in a lump, choking her. She fought to smile again, as he sat beside her
on the chaise.

He touched her cheek
with the backs of his gloved fingers. “I shan’t be home until late. Will you be
all right?”

“I shall have
Nellie.”

He made a wry
expression. “Yes, Nellie.”

She knew that Jon
still wished Nellie gone. It remained a matter of contention between them.

“She is very loyal to
me, Jon.

“Well, I suppose she
is better than nothing.”

“Nellie is a comfort
to me.”

“So she is.” He leant
close and placed a chaste kiss on her lips.

He had been so
careful with her of late. It hurt her in a way she couldn’t quite describe.

“I wish you would
make your peace with Nellie.”

He put his
suede-covered palm against her cheek and she pressed into it. “I’ll return just
as soon as I can,” he said.

She watched him leave
their chamber. He paused at the door and turned to look at her.

He appeared hesitant.
It was strange to see Jon hesitant about anything. It caused a peculiar,
bittersweet pain in her chest.

“You’re going to be
late,” she said.

“That wouldn’t do.”

“No, it wouldn’t.”
Pride for him swelled within her again and she gave him another smile. Her eyes
burnt and she blinked hard.

“Until later, my
lady.” He winked at her.

Her smile widened but
she had to blink harder.

Then, finally, he
turned and left.

She gave in to the
tears. They fell like a torrent for several moments and then she sniffed and
wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her wrapper.

No matter the dreams at
night, physically she was getting stronger day by day. Soon it would be time
for her to make a decision. To do what was right.

She must go now. She
had no idea if or when she would fall into another spell of physical weakness
and be forced to wait again.

He would never let
her leave.

Never.

And she
must
leave him.

What was she going to
do?

Oh God, what was she
to
do
?

****

Later that evening,
Anne tried to concentrate on a new book.

Nellie sat with her,
busy with her mending. But she kept sniffing in a most affected and distracting
way.

Anne was about ready
to order her from the chamber. “Nellie, what is it?”

“Oh, my lady.”

Nellie’s voice was so
filled with angst that Anne jerked her gaze up. Nellie looked almost grey in
the face.

Anne jumped to her
feet, dropping her book to the floor as she did. “Are you ill?” She hurried
over to her servant and pressed her palm to her forehead. “You don’t feel
warm.”

Nellie shook her
head. “I only wish it were something like that.”

Anne lowered her
hand. “Well, goodness, what is it?”

“It hurts me to think
of telling you, it will surely kill me. But to keep it secret is killing me as
well. You deserve better.”

“Then tell me.”

“It is about his
lordship.”

“What about Lord
Ruel?”

“There is no way to
soften the blow, so I shall just spill it out.” Nellie looked absolutely
miserable.

Anne’s stomach sank.
“Yes, please do tell me.”

“Oh, my lady!”

“I demand that you
tell me now.”

“His lordship visited
his mistress.”

The statement crashed
over Anne like a bucket of icy water. “I see.”

She staggered back
and stumbled to the chaise.

“Don’t hate me.”

“What?” Anne said,
dazed.

“Please don’t hate me
for telling you.”

“Of course I don’t
hate you.” Hurt, she hurt. She couldn’t quite catch her breath. But no, he
wouldn’t have. He couldn’t have. The way he looked at her today, when he was
hesitant to leave. She drew her brows together. “When?”

“It was the night he
went to see his tailor.”

“I see.”

“She met him there
and rode with him in his carriage.”

But Jon didn’t like
to make love in carriages. He said he’d done too much of that on campaign in
the Dragoons and it had lost its charm.

“Did-did he go to her
house?”

“I don’t know… Oh, it
was the driver who told the housekeeper. I overheard them snickering about it.
He said how could his lordship dare to dismiss his uncle, Mr Riley, for having
been too forward with you, when his lordship had another interest to begin
with.”

Anne tried to focus
on being practical. Tried to shove her hurt aside, “How ridiculous. What has
one to do with the other? Gentlemen always have other interests.”

“No, they don’t, my
lady. Not when they have a young wife like you.”

“William did.”

“He shouldn’t have.”

Anne’s shoulders
sagged. “A gentleman is a gentleman, always. What am I to do about that?”

Nellie twisted her
hands. “She came here, too.”

Anne’s mouth fell
open. “Here? She came here?”

“The night…the night
you went to the theatre with his lordship.”

“Oh. Oh my goodness.”
Had Jon really done this? Had he really been unfaithful?

Already?

She couldn’t bring
herself to believe it.

She absolutely did
not believe him capable of betraying her.

Likely, she was a
fool.

But she couldn’t help
it. She believed in him. She trusted him.

“My lady, you should
leave him. Go back to the country and get your rest and you’ll be right as
rain. Just a little rest.”

Anne paused. Time
itself seemed to pause whilst her mind spun. Yes, yes, this Jon would believe.
She would be jealous, angry, offended. She would tell him she was leaving.

It just might work.

She sat up straight
and lifted her chin. “Pack my trunks, Nellie. We’re going back to the country.”

****

Anne rubbed the sleep out of her
eyes. It was a little past five in the morning.

A quiet cough sounded.