“Why, Eliza? Do I revolt him so very much?”
“I am sure that is not the case.”
Linfield was a queer kettle to be sure, if he desired Mrs Cluett’s favours over those of his new wife. Not that Henrietta didn’t have her charms, but Jane was his to use how he wished, so unless he had somehow discerned the Jack in her cellar… Could that be it? It seemed most unlikely, there was as yet no obvious thickening of her waist, and he had hardly been so intimately acquainted with her person to note such a thing.
“Jane, I know you will not like what I have to say, but I think… I think you’re going to have to address him on this matter.”
“Speak to him about it!”
Eliza gave a decisive nod.
“You did not hear him, nor all the foulness he threw at me. At me, who had done nothing wrong, only expressed my horror over finding him so compromised as any wife would surely do. It is deplorable of him, it truly is, for him to have brought that woman here.”
“Jane, I’m still not entirely certain she’s his mistress, and this wasn’t anything more than an opportunity seized in a moment.”
“He promised her recompense.”
“I did not say there wasn’t a bargain struck, but it does not necessarily follow that it’s an ongoing arrangement.”
“If it’s a first, then that is almost worse, for doesn’t it only emphasise his repulsion for me?”
Refusing to support the way Jane seemed determined to demean herself, she sucked her lips into a pucker. “The only way you’ll know the truth is if you talk to him. I know you do not wish to and with every reason. He owes you an apology, plain and simple. But Jane, you have both sworn oaths and agreed to this union. If you cannot make good of it, then I fear you will both make one another very unhappy.”
“But to address him so directly on such a topic, and after how violently he swore at me? I don’t think that I can. And even supposing I do, what if he tells me that he won’t be rid of her? Or that he means her to continue to share our home, and intends to go on making use of her favours? What shall I do then?”
“Persevere.” Eliza offered her another hand squeeze. “I am so sorry that this is your lot, Jane. It is undeserved, and alas convinces me that I will preserve my spinsterhood.”
“Truly?” Jane queried, letting go of Eliza’s hand to rub and dry her eyes. “But I thought I detected a fondness between you and Mr Whistler. Surely you would take him if he offered. Wouldn’t you, Eliza?”
She could not be certain that she would. Though she didn’t say that, it must have been clear in her expression for Jane worried her poor lip again and tutted, then took to patting her hand as if she were the one in dire need of comfort. “I pray only that you don’t make my mistake, Eliza. Do not think you can love and be free, for you cannot. Not without consequences, and such folly is precisely what has led me here to this doomed marriage, in this wretched place. Had I not been so naïve, so foolish, then I would have had the option to object to my father’s negotiations with Lord Bellingbrook.”
“What is done is done and can’t be altered,” Eliza advised.
Jane’s sighs seemed to wriggle up from her bowels. “You are a goddess among friends, Eliza. I cannot thank you enough for being mine. Almost everyone would have severed our friendship the moment they knew of my predicament, but not you. You are more steadfast. You are a true friend. A saint amongst them.” She fell into wretched silence, whilst chewing on her lower lip.
Eliza heartily wished she had more wisdom to offer and could do more than offer her friendship and support for she could see that Jane was trapped. Both here in this mouldering ruin of a castle and in the bed she’d made for herself by tying the knot with Lord Linfield. And indeed, the one she’d made for herself by trusting a previous man’s word.
She would gladly wring his neck if she ever discerned his name.
Jane took to her feet again. Indeed, Eliza followed her up, for it was overly cold to linger too long in one position. The damp had a way of inveigling its way into your joints if you did, and she was young still to be complaining of aches and cramps and stiff limbs.
“I must compose myself before I even think of confronting him. I am so torn.” Jane was marching again. She seemed to think best on her feet and in motion. “In truth, I confess, I do not desire him, and if the circumstances were other than they are,”—she cradled her arms around her middle— “I think I should be wholly relieved that he does not care to bother me. But they are as they are, and he must bed me. Eliza, he must believe this child is his. All must think it. For I fear for both our fortunes if it is found out.”
’Twas the only thing persuading Eliza to hold the information close. It was not a deception she cared to be privy to, though she completely understood the necessity of it. Jane ought not to have wed him, but that was done and past. The best had to be made of the circumstances. Also, she rightly feared Linfield’s reaction were he to find out. She already held a deep suspicion of him. Too much circumstantial evidence pointed to his involvement in all the ghastly goings on. Perhaps Jane was correct, and Henrietta was his long-term mistress. Perhaps they were co-conspirators in trying to relieve Jane of her wits.
“Will you come with me to the Lady’s Parlour?” Jane asked. “Only it is too chilly here to think properly. My toes are like ice, and I mean to return to my bobbins. I know the activity will help me straighten out my thoughts. They are in a frightful whirl.”
“Of course, I will come.”
They did not return the way they had come but wove a path through the drawing room and its antechamber and several small rooms to reach their destination. Whatever squabble had abounded between Linfield and George seemed to have ceased. Nor could they hear Henrietta’s screeching any more.
“How did George come to be involved?” Eliza asked as they walked with their arms linked, and Jane’s wrap about both their shoulders.
“I think he must have heard my cry. He arrived from the Hunting Room and quickly discerned the cause of the discord. Then he grew enraged, though I’m not sure who he was most angered by. He took up a billiards cue and tried to jab Linfield.” She made a forward thrust as to demonstrate, dislodging the shawl, which Eliza caught. “But he had no kind words for his mother either. She got out of his way when he raised his hand, else I think he would have struck her too.”
“He landed the blow to Linfield, then?”
“Yes. Perhaps. I’m not rightly sure. But Linfield started throwing the billiard balls at his head, and that’s when he chased George out into the hallway. I do hope the Cluetts will leave. I pray that when we go to dinner tonight it will be two less around the table, and a swift end to all the discord. Then, I shan’t have to say anything to Linfield, nor smile at that snake of a woman. To think she has been nothing but sugar and kindness to me, but it has all been a lie. In all my days, I don’t believe I’ve ever encountered such a duplicitous,” —she swallowed what was surely an awful name, before substituting— “woman.”
