by Maya Banks
###
Jenna slept fitfully through the night, waking a few times to find her mother at her bedside. How comforting her presence was, and how tempting it was to throw herself in her mother’s arms and let out all the pain she was feeling.
When she opened her eyes to see sunlight streaming through her window, she looked around, searching for her mother. She smiled when she saw her asleep in the chair beside the bed. With extreme care, she tested her arm, trying to sit up.
Nausea rolled through her stomach when stabbing pain shot through her shoulder. Taking a steadying breath, she inched her way up on the pillow.
“Jenna, darling, you’re awake,” her mother exclaimed, rushing over to help her.
She tried to smile and failed miserably. A low moan escaped as another sharp pain ripped through her arm.
“Don’t try to move,” her mother fussed. “I’ll prop some pillows behind you if you want to sit up.”
“When did you return?”
Her mother stopped and smiled. “We had just returned when Mr. Douglas carried you from the drawing room. It wasn’t the homecoming we’d envisioned.”
“I’m sorry.” Her voice trembled and tears threatened to well up in her eyes.
“Hush. Your father and I are so grateful you are going to be all right. You can’t imagine the fright you gave us.” The countess’s eyes were suspiciously wet as she tucked the pillows around Jenna’s head.
“Oh Mamma,” she whispered. “I’ve made such a mess of things.”
Catherine sat down on the side of her bed and gently tucked Jenna’s hair behind her ear. “I would be willing to listen if you want to talk about it.”
“I don’t know where to start.”
“How about you start with a certain Mr. Douglas.”
###
Catherine descended the stairs just as Thomas admitted Stuart to the foyer. Indeed he was a far cry from the Stuart of the last four years. He looked up and saw her standing on the bottom step, and his expression became shuttered. She stepped down and crossed the foyer to stand in front of him. “I’m glad you’ve come, Stuart. We have a lot of questions, and apparently you are the only one qualified to answer them.”
“Is Jenna awake? I wished to speak with her,” he said, ignoring her statement.
“She is resting. Perhaps you could wait in the drawing room?”
She took his arm and led him toward the drawing room where the rest of the family was gathered. He paused at the entrance, a pained look coming over his face.
“How thoughtless of me,” she said in a stricken voice. “Would you prefer we convene in the study?”
“The drawing room is fine,” he said after a moment’s pause.
Her hand tightened on his arm as they walked in together. Everyone stood when Stuart entered the room, and the earl converged on him immediately.
“Stuart, you’ve a lot of explaining to do. We’ve been waiting for your arrival.”
“I know I owe you all an explanation and my sincerest apologies as well, but first I must speak to Jenna. My first obligation is to her.” His voice rang with such pain that Catherine’s heart constricted.
“That isn’t acceptable,” Quinn burst out, striding over to confront Stuart. “Damn it, Stuart, we trusted you. Suffered through your masquerade. I never imagined you would be involved in something that could have gotten Jenna killed.”
“Quinn, enough,” the earl said softly.
Quinn turned around and stalked to the window, refusing to look at any of them.
The earl turned back to Stuart. “I agree, you have a lot to make up to Jenna for, but I will be waiting for an explanation as soon as you have spoken with her.”
“Thank you, my lord. I know I have let you down.”
The earl put a hand on Stuart’s shoulder. “No, son, your father let us all down. If it weren’t for you and Mr. Douglas, my daughter wouldn’t be alive.” His voice cracked and he looked away.
Stuart struggled to maintain his expression, but he looked precariously close to tears. “I’d like to go up and see Jenna now. I promise not to upset her.”
The earl looked inquiringly at Catherine, and she nodded her approval. “I’ll see you to her room,” Catherine said taking his arm.
“Wait here,” she said when they stopped outside of Jenna’s room. “I’ll tell her you are here.”
Jenna awoke to her mother’s soft voice calling to her. “Jenna, darling, Stuart is here to see you.”
“Stuart, here?” she managed to ask.
“He is waiting outside your door. Shall I show him in?”
She struggled to sit up, hastily arranging her gown—how had she gotten into her night rail?
“You look fine, dear. The picture of modesty.”
She pulled the covers up to her chin anyway. Her mother walked to the door and gestured Stuart in then quietly left, leaving the door at a respectable opening.
Stuart entered her room and she was struck by how familiar he looked once more. He bore no resemblance to the man who had flounced around London for the past several weeks. He pulled a chair to her bedside and settled down beside her. He took her hand in his. “I owe you an apology, Jenna. And a lengthy explanation.”
“Your father, is he...dead?”
He nodded, his eyes downcast.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. He would have killed you without so much as blinking an eye.”
“Why? Why did you deceive me?” She wanted to ask him so much more, but contented herself with the question most pressing.
“I had to. I had to be convincing. I couldn’t chance anyone discovering I wasn’t the irritating fribble everyone took me for.”
“But why the act? Could you not gather the information you needed as yourself?”
“No. Jenna, my father wasn’t the only man I was out to capture. There were many French spies that escaped capture after the war. By donning the disguise, I guaranteed that no one would ever take me seriously. Never think me a threat. You would be amazed at how free a tongue is around a supposed idiot.”
“I feel so foolish,” she said, an embarrassed flush creeping up her neck. “The things I said about you.”
“Don’t feel badly. I was all of those things. I didn’t like myself very much either. I certainly didn’t hold it against others that my act was so successful.”
“Your father really murdered your mother?” Though the viscount all but confessed, she still couldn’t grasp that he’d been so utterly evil.
“Well, that’s one of the reasons I wanted to speak with you. You are the only one who has seen the letters my mother left. He didn’t deny it. In fact he justified it when you confronted him. But I wanted to see what my mother wrote. That is if you don’t mind sharing the letters with me.”
She averted her gaze to her hands. “I lied. Not about the letters, but about possessing irrefutable proof. Obviously since I thought you were the murderer and traitor. I only realized it was your father after I told him of my suspicions,” she murmured. “I misinterpreted your mother’s letter.”
“May I have those letters, Jenna?”
She nodded her head. “They are in Papa’s desk. Ask him for them. Your mother notes in them that she did have proof and that she hid it in London. I would suggest paying her sister a call. I got the distinct impression that she knew more about what happened to her sister than she let on.”
He bent over and kissed her forehead. “I plan to spend a lot more time making up for the years we’ve lost. I’ve a lot of making up to do with Sebastian and Quinn as well. I’ll leave you to rest now. I want you to get well so you can properly jilt me.”
She laughed at the devilish twinkle in his eyes then promptly regretted her action. Pain racked her shoulder and she closed her eyes against it.
“I’ve missed you, Stuart,” she said softly. “The real Stuart.”
“I’ve missed you too, Sprite.”
His green eyes were suspiciously bright as he rose to stand by her bed.
“Sleep now,” he said in a worried voice. “I have some explaining to do to your parents.”
He turned and walked toward the door.
“Stuart?” she called.
He paused and turned back. “Yes, Jenna?”
“In your mother’s letter. She mentioned ‘the room where I saw my greatest joy.’ I could not imagine what she was referring to. Does it mean anything to you?”
A peculiar expression lit Stuart’s face. “Yes. Yes, it does. Jenna, thank you.”
He turned and slipped out, closing the door behind him.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“It’s been a week, Pen, a week! And she is slipping further away from us all the time,” Catherine cried. She paced back and forth in front of the desk where the earl was going over correspondence. “Her shoulder is healing, but she grows more despondent with each passing day.”
“Come here, sweetheart,” he said pushing away from his desk.
She threw up her hands and walked around to him. He rose and wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her head.
“What are we going to do, Pen?”
“I don’t know. I suppose we have to give her time and some extra space. She’s been through a lot these past weeks.”
“I don’t know that she’ll ever get over this. She’s obviously in love with Mr. Douglas.”
“Well, he hasn’t exactly been beating our door down to get to her,” he pointed out.
“Maybe he is doing what he thinks best for her.”
“I don’t know, sweetheart. I hate to see her this way too, but in time she will get better. She’ll put this all behind her.”
“You need to talk to her, Pen. The two of you haven’t talked at length since all this happened.”
He let out a long sigh. “I suppose you won’t let me have any peace until I do?”
She elbowed him in the ribs.
“Ouch! I take that as an order. All right, I’ll speak to Jenna the first opportunity I have.”
A noise from the door caused both their heads to turn. Jenna stood in the doorway, her arm securely fastened in a sling.
“Jenna, darling!” Catherine rushed over to her. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes, Mamma. I am going out and didn’t want you to worry.”
Catherine shot her husband a concerned glance then looked back at Jenna. “Out? Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“I’ve rested far too much. If I lie in bed a minute longer I may well lose my mind,” she said with a laugh. “I am only going to the orphanage. I visited it while you were away, and I’ve grown quite attached to the children.”
“Would you like me to accompany you?” Catherine offered.
Jenna smiled. “No, that isn’t necessary, Mamma. I won’t be gone long. I promise.”
Catherine paused and glanced back at the earl. He shrugged slightly. With a sigh, she turned once more to Jenna. “Very well, darling. Don’t overtire yourself.”
She watched as Jenna walked out of the study, then she turned and raised an eyebrow at her husband. “Jenna going to an orphanage? I never recall that being a favorite of hers.”
“I think there is quite a lot we are just learning about our daughter,” the earl said softly.
###
Jenna sat in the carriage for a long moment staring at the walkway to the children’s home. If truth be known, she prayed Gray would not be there today. It would kill her to see him again.
The door opened and the footman carefully helped her down the steps. Though her arm still pained her, she had grown accustomed to the discomfort. With each passing day, the hurt lessened. But the pain in her heart still burned with intensity.
Slowly, she walked to the door and knocked softly. Mrs. Drennan promptly answered, a look of delight on her face to see Jenna. Her expression darkened when she caught sight of the sling.
“Are you well, my lady?”
“Quite well,” Jenna reassured. “Just a simple accident. I’d love to see the children if they are not sleeping.”
“Not at all. They will be delighted to see you as always.”
She gestured inside, and Jenna followed her within. Soon Jenna found herself enfolded in the embrace of a dozen children, and her heart soared for the first time in over a week.
Their cherubic smiles, hugs and kisses warmed her all over. Meg sidled over to her and snuggled into her uninjured arm. She kissed Meg’s golden curls and inhaled her sweet scent.
“Would you all like a story?”
The chorus of yeses was nearly deafening.
She smiled as they clamored around. “I need someone to pick out a story, and then I need a special volunteer to hold the book and turn the pages for me. I’ve hurt my arm as you can see, so I can’t hold the book.”
A series of sympathetic oohhhs filled the room as they crowded in to examine her bandage. Finally, she coaxed them into taking seats in front of her, and she began the story.
As she read the last page, she looked up to see Gray standing in the doorway. Her breath caught in her throat. He looked terrible and wonderful all at the same time. His hair was unkempt, the stubble of several days’ worth of beard darkened his chin, and his eyes were bloodshot.
Her voice faded on the last word and she smiled brightly at the children. “Off to play now.”
They scrambled up and raced over to the toys across the room. Soon their delighted shrieks echoed through the house as they involved themselves in their playacting.
Jenna stood and slowly walked over to where Gray stood.
“What are you doing here?” he asked in a gruff voice.
Her eyes narrowed. Of all the questions he might ask, she hadn’t imagined that one. “I am here to see the children. Despite the fact that you don’t want me or need me, they do.”
She cursed the bitterness she heard in her voice, but she felt it too keenly to prevent it from sliding out.
“Jenna, I...”
“You needn’t say anything. I was just leaving.”
She drew herself up and raised her chin a notch. She may be dying on the inside, but he would never know it. Her pride was too great.
“Are you well?” he asked softly when she had nearly made it past him.
She paused and turned her head to look into his eyes. She searched deeply, but all she saw was sadness and pain. Willing the tears not to well in her eyes, she looked away. “I am fine,” she whispered.
Not looking back, she left the house and hurried back to her waiting carriage. Her tears fell before she was seated.
###
Jenna stared listlessly out her window, tears pricking her already swollen eyelids. While the trip to the orphanage had provided a boost to her spirit, it had also struck a blow to her heart.
For the last week, she had existed in a stupor. The news of her broken engagement had filtered through the ton, eliciting a mild curiosity, but no real shock. Stuart hadn’t yet appeared in public sans façade, so the society likely sympathized with Jenna.
Along with her broken engagement, her parents had spread the story of her injury. Perfectly embarrassing tale, but at least everyone believed it. An accident. She’d knocked her father’s dueling pistols from the wall and one discharged.
She rolled her eyes at the absurdity, but it was better that she was a bumbling female than the person responsible for Viscount Dudley’s death. Well, indirectly anyway.
The fact that the same week, Viscount Dudley accidentally shot himself with a dueling pistol didn’t seem to raise any eyebrows.
She had been besieged with well wishes, flowers, and letters. Visitors came daily to offer their support, but she refused to see any of them.
Pasting a smile on her face was an impossibility when she was crumbling inside. She had no wish to hide her pain when it consumed her.
And today, she ha
d faced Gray for the first time since his rejection. The man she loved so dearly, she felt his absence with each breath she took. It had hurt far worse than she ever imagined. How she had forged such a strong connection to him in the short time they were together, she would never understand, but severing that tie was like dying a slow death.
A knock sounded at her door, but she made no move to acknowledge it. The door clicked softly behind her and footsteps approached.
“Jenna?” Her father’s deep voice reached her. He sat down beside her, and she glanced sideways at him. “I’d like to speak to you.”
The moment she’d dreaded had come. For a week she’d successfully avoided conversation with her father, not wanting to see the disappointment and shame in his eyes. But she couldn’t avoid him any longer.
She sat up straighter and turned so she could look him in the eye. “I’ve wanted to speak to you too, Papa.”
“How are you feeling?”
Grateful for the neutral question, she smiled. “I’m feeling better. My shoulder isn’t paining me as much anymore.”
“And your trip to the orphanage? It went well?”
“Very well,” she said, remembering the delight of the children.
Her father paused for a long moment as if formulating exactly what he wanted to say.
“I won’t lie to you and say I am not disappointed in your actions. But what I’d like is to hear your explanation. In your words.”
She closed her eyes and expelled her breath in a long sigh. “I’m sorry for letting you and Mamma down. I know what I did was hurtful to you. But I can’t regret what happened. I just can’t.”
“Why didn’t you come to me?”
She gave him a perplexed look. “I couldn’t. I didn’t want you and Mamma to know I was unhappy. It was expected of me to comply with your wishes.”
“You thought sneaking off in the night to a strange man’s house was a suitable alternative?”
Her face warmed. “No, I suppose not.”
“You should have come to me. Been honest about your feelings. If you had confided in me instead of acting so rashly, this whole situation could have been avoided.”