As the carriage rolled onto the estate Jane had grown familiar with in a bid to escape the torture her life had become in her childhood home, she wondered how she would explain everything to her friend.
Truth be told, she knew she had made a rash decision, and if it were anyone else that had possessed the same reluctance tomarry, they would have never agreed to the duke’s terms. Jane feared her friends would think less of her and find her unwise for the decision she had made.
Finally, the carriage came to a stop in the driveway that led to the front door and after inhaling deeply in a bid to steady her nerves – failing promptly – she disembarked from the carriage with the help of the coachman.
It was not proper, to show up without letting the host know beforehand, but such formalities had never existed between Jane and her friends. She hoped that still rang true as she walked up to the front door and knocked.
The butler opened the door with a bright expression, and she felt comforted mildly by the sight of a familiar face.
“Lady – oh, my apologies, Your Grace. I have not seen you since your wedding, but I had heard about it. Congratulations.”
“Thank you, Roderick,” Jane smiled softly. “Is Penelope home? I did not call on her beforehand to let her know I was coming, and I fear I might have caught her at a bad time.”
“Oh, not at all. Her Grace is having tea with the duke in the sunroom. I shall inform them of your arrival, Your Grace,” Roderick bowed to her before he walked off down a hall.
Barely three minutes had passed before a door was slammed open and Penelope came practically running down the hall inJane’s direction. Her lips had only just opened to greet her friend when she was embraced tightly.
“My goodness, Jane! Where have you been? I very nearly marched to that estate to demand to see you! What happened? Did your husband keep you confined against your will?” Penelope questioned rapidly.
Jane tried to respond, but her friend continued, “If he did something to you, I am going to end his life with my hands. I swear it. Are you all right? Did anything untoward transpire? Shall I fetch Cecil’s hunting rifle?”
“What you should do, my dear, is calm yourself. You are scaring our precious Jane,” Penelope’s husband, Cecil Wightman, duke of Westerdale stated as he approached them with an amused expression.
Penelope glared at him. “That man could have done something –”
“I know you were worried about her, darling, but you should let her give the accounts of what transpired. Making assumptions will get you nowhere. Let us hear what happened, from her own lips,” he murmured gently, taking hold of Penelope’s hand.
Jane watched the fire leave her friend’s eyes as her shoulders dropped and she walked to Cecil’s side. Cecil beamed, looking less cheeky and gentler as he murmured something to Penelope, and her friend blushed, smacking him half-heartedly on the shoulder when he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.
For a moment, Jane imagined what it would look like if she had such a friendly, causal relationship with her own husband. What if they could reassure each other like that? Could ease the worries that might lie within their hearts?
Almost as soon as the thought surfaced, Jane snuffed it out, because there was no point to do such a thing. In less than three months, they would go their separate ways and live their lives as they were meant to. She did not want a marriage or a husband and that had not changed.
“Jane,” Cecil grinned at her boyishly. “It is good to see you. I am sorry I could not attend your wedding. I did hear it was quite the ceremony, given that my wife had taken it upon herself to spread rumours of herself being in the family way. Did she really faint?”
Jane nodded, her lips pulling into a smile as Cecil laughed, dabbing at the corners of his eyes in mirth.
“Oh dear. Now I really wish I had been able to witness such a wonderous sight. Who knew my wife was so talented in the way of the arts? Are you certain you do not belong in a theatre, my love?” Cecil teased, wrapping an arm around Penelope’s waist and drawing her closer to him.
“Perhaps that might be where I truly belong. Are you prepared to release me, so that I might pursue my new found talents?” Penelope wondered reproachfully.
Cecil did not even waste a second before he replied, “Absolutely not. You do not need to chase fame in the limelight. I willprovide you with everything you will ever need, for as long as I have breath within me.”
Jane couldn’t help but smile at them, especially when Penelope’s cheeks gained a rosier hue than before. It was quite precious to see how smitten her friend was with her husband, and likewise as well.
“Come along, Jane,” Penelope said, slipping out of her husband’s hold to stand by Jane’s side, taking hold of her hand. “Let us have some tea in you, so that you can tell us all about your marriage.”
“I do so love when you include me in your little gossip sessions,” Cecil smirked when Penelope used her freehand to drag him along by the lapel of his jacket.
Penelope took them to the sunroom and quickly instructed a nearby maid to bring a fresh pot of tea and some more scones and jam, before settling Jane down into her chair.
“Tell us everything,” Penelope prompted as Cecil pulled out his own seat for her and she sat down, watching as her husband went to procure another for himself.
Jane cleared her throat, unsure of where to start. She wondered if it was all right to just tell her friend everything without the express permission of her husband.
Thomas had not instructed her to keep it a secret anyway and it was not as though Penelope would divulge the information to anyone else.
“I am sorry, Penelope. I should have sent a letter informing you of my well-being much sooner, but... I was simply occupied. There was much to do, and I needed to adjust quickly to my new life,” Jane apologized sincerely. “I am sorry that I caused you to worry.”
