Laura stepped away to the wardrobe and Jane let out her breath in one, long shuddering exhale. She stared at the letter in her hands and then turned it over and broke the seal. Just as before, Colin had included her own letter in the pages of his own. Hers had been another message asking him for kindness, pleading with him to come to her or allow her to return to London. As she read the plaintive words, she felt the raw agony once again, like she was transported back in time before she turned to his response.
Dearest Jane,
I would have responded to this letter. I may have looked like I had a cold heart in the time we were apart, but I can admit to you and to myself that I thought of you every day. I tried to remain angry with you, to hate you as Arthur wished me to do. But this letter could not have gone unanswered.
Still, I cannot lie and say that I would have opened myself entirely. My situation with Cassandra changed me, but I was already wary of strong emotion even before I was betrayed in love. My father, you see, punished the expression of my feelings. I learned to hold them inside, to deny them. I once thought that was a strength, but I can see now that it is a failing of the highest order, thanks to you.
Jane left off reading with a gasp. Colin had never shared any depths like this with her before. He was a proud and proper gentleman. And yet he was inspired to give her a glimpse of his true heart now. To pour it out in paper in an attempt to show her how earnest he was about winning her back.
She glanced over to find Laura brushing a pretty dark green gown free of lint. She would have a moment’s privacy to finish his missive, and she ducked her head to do so.
I might have told you that I wasn’t sure if you should come to London,the letter continued.I might have told you that I knew you had betrayed me and that I couldn’t trust you. Of course I would have been wrong, but my God, at least it would have been out then. You could have been given a chance to explain and defend yourself against such bitter lies. I regret that deeply, Jane. And I love you.
Yours always,
Colin
She dropped her head back over her shoulders and let out her breath in a long, heavy sigh. His honesty was appreciated even if it stung her. As did his words of love. What would she have said if she received an answer months ago that claimed she had betrayed him? Would she have asked for clarification of his terrible accusation? Would she have had the strength to go to London over his protests and confront him?
They would never know. Thanks to Arthur. Thanks to Colin, himself.
“Are you ready, my lady?” Laura asked, her tone laced with hesitation. Jane took another deep breath and then smiled at her servant.
Laura came to her and helped her as she dressed. Normally, Jane would have talked more, but today she remained silent as she pondered what Colin had said to her in both his letters. Laura did not push and her toilette was finished in no time.
“I know you have a great deal to do after our travel,” Jane said. “I will go and take a walk through the estate. I have no idea if Lord Wharton will demand my time, but if he inquires after me, tell him I intend to be back for luncheon.”
Laura’s worried gaze pierced briefly, but she did not press. “Yes, my lady. I will share that message if he inquires.”
Jane gave her one more smile that she wished was more comforting than it felt. Then she slipped from the room. She glanced down the hallway toward the door that led to his chamber, but ignored the tug to go there. She still needed time. Still needed to think. She had placed both of Colin’s letters in her pelisse pocket after getting dressed and she pulled them out now, smoothing her thumb along the paper as she slipped through her halls and toward the crisp autumn morning.
She could only hope the fresh air might give her some clarity. Right now she needed it desperately.
Chapter Eleven
Colin stared out the window of his study, watching as the lithe form of his wife moved across the estate grounds, toward the pathways that twisted to the sea. He couldn’t help but smile, even though his chest felt tight when she walked away. She was going to walk on the beach. How he’d loved to do the same as a boy. It was the place where he often thought on his more pressing problems, allowing the sharp air to clear his mind.
He swept up the spyglass on his desk and glanced through it. Now he had a clearer view of Jane. She wore a pretty green gown, and a lighter green shawl was wrapped around her shoulders. He caught his breath and leaned closer to the window.
She was holding his letters in her hands. Well, letters of some kind—he had to assume they were the ones he’d written. She was reading as she walked.
He set the spyglass aside and went to his desk. Papers were strewn across it. Not the normal day to day accountings of his fortune or his political aspirations. No, they were notes for his letters to her. He still had so many to write.
He picked up the next in the series that Jane had written and smiled. It was the sixth missive she’d sent. This one was about the lighthouse along the shore. How she sat in the window seat in the middle of the night and watched the flickering light that kept the sailors safe from the rocks.
He’d done the same so many times. He hoped they’d have a chance to do these things together. To celebrate this beautiful estate, to explore London together, to just spend time making up for all the days he’d wasted on irrational anger.
He sat at his desk, writing for the next hour, then got up. He’d leave this letter here, add it to his pile of responses up in his chamber in a while. For now, he wanted to take his own walk. He would avoid the seaside path, let Jane have her privacy, no matter how much he wished to intrude, press, push.
He smiled and acknowledged the servants as he passed through the halls, then walked out the front door and around the path that led to the woods. Away from the sea. He drew in long breaths of fresh air, trying to clear his mind, though it was an impossible endeavor. He’d been out close to half an hour when he made a turn and came to a halt.
There, sitting on the tree stump, was Jane. She looked up at the same moment he noticed her and jumped to her feet.
“My lord,” she said, her hands shaking as she shoved his letters behind her back, like she didn’t trust that he wouldn’t comment on them, force her to do the same despite his promises. He had earned that, of course. Now he had to show her she was wrong through his actions.
“I’m sorry, Jane. I did not mean to intrude upon your privacy. I meant to allow you that as long as you needed it.”
She worried her lip for a moment, and he couldn’t help but look at her mouth. Remember how it tasted. How it felt on his.
