Chapter Nine
Two weeks wentby with surprising speed. The wedding drew nearer and with its approach, Jillian’s excitement grew. A part of her felt guilty for having such feelings while the Bradfords mourned. Or, at least, Lord and Lady Bradford did. Lewis never spoke about his brother to Jilly anymore. He didn’t mention his parents. He only repeated, at Penelope’s insistence, how sorry his sister was that she was not allowed to come to Ermenbrough for the wedding.
Every time Jillian offered to wait a few months for his family’s sake, hoping they would come around to the idea of her betrothal to their son, Lewis banned further talk on the subject. At first, she had insisted they discuss it, convinced he was denying himself a better relationship with his parents. But he was adamant that, if time should change anything, it might as well happen while they were married. He was done denying himself for their sakes. He would claim what he wanted, and now. He would debate it no further. Eventually, Jillian had relented.
Once the voice of concern had been silenced, they had let joy in. It bloomed as thoughts of her family and their enthusiasm were added to the image of the day growing in their minds… They could picture the villagers lining up at the church to watch their romance unfold and reach its natural conclusion—Lewis standing before her, holding her hand, slipping a ring upon herfinger to bind them forever. A humble but cheerful feast would follow. All around them would be the smiling faces of people who wished them well.
And later, when they were alone, the chance would come at last to know him fully, to claim his body as hers, to let her fingers and lips explore, her skin reveling in his touch… The mere thought made Jillian shiver with delight.
One more week. Seven more days as an unmarried woman. But she would not be spending them here at Munro House. Today, she would head back to Trenton Grange. Lewis had offered that she return home even sooner than this to grant her more time with her family, but she could no more be parted from him than from her own breath. A week without him was about as much as she could bear.
It was time to say farewell to long stays with Ellena. The next time she was in Munro, it would be for good, and she would be living on the Bradford estate with her husband.
Husband… Ah, the word made her toes curl with pleasure. The man she loved would be hers for a lifetime. To have and to hold. She couldn’t wait!
Only, he was not here today. There was a case in court that needed to be finalized. He may have been the heir to the Bradford estate, but he was still a most conscientious barrister. Jillian loved that he had not changed one bit in his principles despite his shift in rank. She only wished his noble work did not keep him from her. He had promised to follow her to Ermenbrough as soon as possible, but there was a chance he might be delayed until the day before the wedding. He could not even see her off, as much as it pained him. It was a terrible blow, to have four hours in the carriage with only Ingsley for company. And to barely introduce Lewis to her family before they exchanged vows was a disappointing development.
And yet… A familiar sound drifted up from the drive. Jillian’s heart fluttered with hope. She ran across to her bedroom window and peered below. Here came the Bradford carriage! It rounded the bend smartly, the horses slowing as the coachman pulled deftly on the reins.
Jillian half-expected Lewis to come flying out of the carriage, pushing past the footman and tearing up the stairs to rush into her arms, showering her with kisses to remember him by on the long road ahead.
But the carriage door was opened with the usual formality by a footman, who lowered the steps and held out a gloved hand. A woman’s foot appeared on the step, black skirts flowing around her ankle.
Jillian watched in confusion as Lady Bradford emerged from the carriage like a dark moth from its cocoon. Her ladyship walked to the front door with the sort of regalness that Jillian had come to associate with her. No doubt the butler had done his job, for the lady disappeared into the entry of Munro House.
Jillian was pondering whom it might be that Lady Bradford had come to see when the butler’s steps sounded upon the landing. Jillian listened carefully to discover outside whose door his footfalls should cease.
It was her own.
A knock sounded on her door.
“Come in,” she said to the butler, though her thoughts were with their visitor and why she had come.
“Lady Bradford is here, Miss Kinsey, and has asked to speak with you. She is waiting in the drawing room. Shall I tell her you will see her?”
“You may,” replied Jillian, her voice lacking any enthusiasm.
Branson nodded and disappeared immediately. Jillian was less quick to follow. She checked her hair in the mirror. Ingsley had done an excellent job, as always. Her gown, however, wasnot her best, for she would be traveling soon and had opted for comfort over aesthetics. Should she change?
No. Her choice of attire was unlikely to adjust her ladyship’s opinion of her. It was better to be accepted as she was, if she was to be accepted at all.
Jillian descended the stairs rather more sedately than usual. There was nothing to hurry for, nothing to pull her into the exuberant display that characterized her more typical movements. Instead, a seemingly endless following of the banister’s curve brought her at last to the ground floor. Jillian inspected her dress. All was in place. Likely, her cheeks displayed a healthy flush. There was nothing for it but to proceed.
Lady Bradford was standing facing the doorway when Jillian entered the drawing room. It was not a conversational posture, nor did she appear to have come for a social call. She regarded Jillian as if she had caught her with her hand in the honey jar and was about to administer a stern scolding.
Jillian almost forgot to curtsey as she greeted the unsmiling visitor. She remembered her manners just in time. “Will you have a seat?” she offered. “I can call for tea.” She indicated the bell pull.
“That is not necessary,” Lady Bradford replied stiffly, though she did take the proffered chair. “I will not be staying long.”
“I see,” answered Jillian, though she honestly had no idea what she was supposed to see.
“I will come straight to the point,” her ladyship said.
Jillian was only too grateful for it. If the mood in the room was any indication, the sooner this meeting was over, the better it would be.
“You are aware of my misgivings about your pending nuptials.”
Jillian nodded. No surprises there, then.
