In the Garden of Disgrace (21 page)

For interminable moments they stared at one
another, neither speaking, the only sound in the clearing the soft
rushing of the stream as the water flowed passed them.

“There’s something you may not have thought
about,” the earl said at last.

“What?”

“Our lovemaking could have repercussions.
Suppose there is a child?”

The instant fear Adrian’s question
engendered in her breast made her want to be ill. He was right
about that one thing—she hadn’t given the possible outcome of her
night with him much consideration.

“I’ll meet that event if it should come to
pass, my lord,” Jillian said stoically. “I would ask a favor of
you, though.”

She almost felt guilty by the hope that lit
the earl’s features.
Almost…

“Anything,” he said.

“Pray with all your heart there is no child,
for that is what I’m going to do.”

It was, as she intended, a rejection of the
most personal kind—she didn’t want him and she didn’t want his
baby. She had expected his pride to be pricked, but the stunned
expression in his clear blue eyes revealed another, more profound
kind of hurt, making her want to haul the hateful words back, to
beg his forgiveness. Unfortunately, her regret came too late. A
mask of bored indifference slipped over Adrian’s face, hiding all
but his disdain, robbing her of the bravery needed to
apologize.

“As you wish, my lady,” he said, bowing
stiffly. “I think I’ve overstayed my welcome.” He spoke without
looking at her. “Please give my respects to your aunt.”

With that the earl strode away from her,
mounted his horse and rode into the forest.

Jillian watched his retreat, remorse like a
leaden weight in her chest. Well, she supposed she’d done it this
time. But he would be back—he always came back, she told herself.
She ignored the insidious doubt that crept into her reasoning.

*****

Depression hangs like a burden on the
spirits, and Adrian was depressed. He reached Sutherfield in the
late afternoon and sought out his chamber for a bath before he had
to speak to anyone. To lick his wounds, he thought disparagingly.
How he would explain to Simon, he didn’t know.

He soaked in the tepid water, consumed with
his morbid ruminations, lost to all but his own misery. He was
angry and yes, by damned, he was angry at Jillian. How dare she
treat him in such a cavalier fashion as though these last weeks had
been nothing more than a test of wills.

He told himself that her final statement to
him had been a furious one intended to hurt, therefore he should
not take it too seriously. Easy enough to say but he had been
unprepared for the pain the harsh words had caused him. He had
egotistically believed she had been as affected by their lovemaking
as he had been. In fact, making more of a romantic interlude than
actually existed was usually a woman’s domain, so he was stumped by
the possibility that he had experienced something she had not.

He thought back to the night before. He
could not have imagined the raw emotions that had sprung between
them and filled her darkened chamber like a beguiling mist, drawing
them closer together. And Jillian had felt the pull, he knew she
had. That brought Adrian back to his anger. Truth was he was angry
at himself. He had handled the situation badly. Having told Aunt
Prudence he understood Jillian, he had turned around and acted as
though her insecurities had never occurred to him.

Adrian stood and stepped from the tub. He
dressed quickly for the dinner hour, determined not to put off his
talk with Simon. Fortunately, Cassandra was still healing from
childbirth, taking her meals in her room, so he would be able to
converse openly with the marquess.

Downstairs, the butler directed the earl to
the library where Simon was working on some correspondence.

“Adrian, come in, come in. Have a seat,” his
friend greeted him. “I’m just finishing here. How about a drink?”
He stood and walked to the table where the brandy was kept. Handing
his guest a glass, he continued. “Where were you last night? I
suppose the storm caught you unaware?”

“Yes, it did.” Adrian sat in the chair
opposite Simon’s desk. “I stayed at your Aunt Prudence’s home. We
were eating the evening meal when the rains came, and your aunt
asked me to remain until the weather cleared.” He spoke hastily,
noting the look of consternation on his friend’s face.

“I see,” Simon said after a moment,
apparently deciding to accept the explanation. “It was a bad storm.
I lost several limbs in my orchards. It’s been years since I’ve
seen winds like that.”

“Indeed.”

Both men fell silent, and Adrian cast
around, trying to choose the best opening for his speech. Finally
he concluded plain speaking was the best approach.

“I’m going to London in the morning.”

Simon, in the middle of bringing his glass
to his mouth, continued the motion but there was no doubt his
interest had been caught. He rolled the brandy over his tongue,
slowly, before sending his gaze back to the earl.

“Business, Adrian?”

“Not this time.”

“Then what?”

Adrian gave his companion a mournful stare.
“I don’t know if it is going to work out, Simon. Jillian is less
cooperative now than when we first began our courtship.”

“Has something in particular happened?”

This could get sticky, the earl thought.
Jillian was after all the man’s sister. That aside, the situation
was too personal to share. Therefore, he thought it best to broach
the subject from its broadest angle.

“Let’s just say Jillian and I had a
disagreement. Truth is, I don’t want to wait any longer and she’s
in no hurry.”

“Is it really imperative this thing be
rushed?”

Adrian looked at him in surprise. “I was
under the impression you wanted it settled.”

“I do, I do.” Simon studied the brandy in
his glass before raising perceptive eyes to his friend. “Pardon me
if I err, but I’ll be damned if I’m not getting the feeling there
is more to this than you are willing to tell me.”

The earl allowed the quiet to stretch for
several seconds before answering. “I suppose I could give you a
trite analogy for how I view the situation.”

“Please, by all means.”

“Jillian is like a filly I’ve been trying to
break. She lets me get just close enough to feed her a carrot, to
think I’ve won her trust. But all the while she is aware that I
want to climb on her back. As soon as I develop a little confidence
she dances out of the way, making it clear who is in control.”

“My sister is naive in some ways and, due to
her circumstances, her knowledge of the relationships between men
and women is limited. If she were looking at it the correct way,
she would realize once she had you on her back she could go in any
direction she pleased.”

“Ah,” Adrian said shrewdly, “but she can’t
forget who would control the reins. She doesn’t know how I’ll use
that power.”

Simon grinned. “Point well taken,” he said,
saluting his companion with his glass. “Right then, what are you
going to do? I’ll not pretend that I don’t expect you to continue
to try.”

“Haven’t a clue. For now Jillian and I need
some distance from one another. We—you and I—have forced this
alliance, and I’m afraid if we don’t pull back and take a more
objective look at the situation, there is no hope. It has always
been my goal to enter this marriage on good terms with your
sister.”

Now there’s an understatement, Adrian mused
as for the hundredth time that day his mind drifted back to the
previous evening. He would never again see the frenzy of a storm
without remembering the frenzy in Jillian’s bedroom. To bloody hell
with good terms—he needed more than that. He needed—

“You’ll be back?” Simon interrupted his
thoughts.

The earl dipped his head brusquely. “I gave
my word—I will keep it.”

“May I ask you another question,
understanding that I am Jillian’s brother and you don’t have to
answer?”

“Of course.”

The marquess cleared his throat, and Adrian
had the impression his friend was about to delve into an area where
men rarely shared confidences. He was right.

“How do you
feel
about my sister? I
have a reason for wanting to know,” Simon added quickly. “I mean,
this situation has been crammed down your throat, and I’d hate for
you to dislike her because of me.”

Adrian took a slow sip of his drink,
deciding how best to respond. Even here he could not be entirely
truthful or he’d have to admit to the craving that was driving him
where Jillian was concerned, and he knew the man did not want to
hear that.

“Funny, but your aunt asked me the same
thing this morning. I will tell you what I told her—I’ve come to
care for Jillian. That’s the best answer I can offer.”

“Good, good.” Simon’s attitude was one of
outright relief mixed with embarrassment as he came to his feet.
“Let’s go into dinner. I’m famished.”

The earl followed Simon from the room, but
he was not basking in optimism as his friend seemed to be. In fact,
an attitude of melancholy had settled over him. He wondered how
Jillian fared, if she was all right. And he wondered if she would
miss him.

*****

“My lady, you have company.”

Jillian, sitting at the breakfast table,
looked at the footman as she brought a spoon of egg to her mouth.
She smiled smugly to herself. She knew it—he couldn’t stay away.
Only two days and the earl was back on her doorstep.

“Tell him I’ll be there shortly.”

The servant retreated with the message, and
Jillian proceeded to finish her meal.

“Jillian, do you suppose you might give me
the courtesy of answering my call this morning. I’m in a
hurry.”

She turned at the angry words to find her
brother glowering at her from the doorway to the morning room. She
glanced past his shoulder, expecting to see another tall figure
looming in the hall behind him.

“Simon? What are you doing here?”

“I want to talk to you.”

“Come in then and sit down. Are you—are you
by yourself?”

“Wickham’s gone back to London, Jillian.” He
sat in the chair across from her.

Jillian felt the floor shift beneath her
seat, and all at once her meal repulsed her. She slowly placed her
spoon on the table, deciding how to respond so her brother would
not realize how his words had affected her.

“I was of the opinion he would grow weary of
the country life,” she said blandly. “I wish him well.”

“Is that all you have to say?” he
barked.

“Is there any reason you are taking this
tone with me, Simon? I’m beginning to feel put out with you.”

“If it’s irritation you are feeling then I
suggest you get in line right behind me.”

“You have some spleen to vent, I see,” she
said stiffly. “Please, get on with it.”

“All right. I went to a lot of trouble to
secure your future. You’ve done nothing but thwart my efforts.”

Jillian was too upset to muster the anger a
situation like this would ordinarily have aroused in her, thus she
merely looked at her brother dully.

“Well?” he demanded.

“I want you to leave my future to me,
Simon.”

“The devil you say!” The marquess brought
his fist down on the table.

She jumped, more from reaction than
fear.

“Adrian is a fine man,” he said. “He could
make you happy if you would get that damned pride of yours under
control.”

“What would you know about it, Simon?” she
asked, fearing she might break down.

“Let me tell you something, little sister.
No one has all the answers all the time. It wouldn’t hurt you to
listen to someone else for a change. Just because it wasn’t your
idea to marry Wickham does not mean the idea has no merit. Even
Cassandra approves.”

“She does?” Jillian had not heard her
sister-in-law’s views on the matter before this. “She likes
Adrian?”

“Absolutely. She hoped all would work out,
as I did.”

Jillian sighed. “It’s probably just as
well.” The desire to cry had passed and now all she felt was
tired.

“What do you mean?”

“Aunt Pru’s suffering with achy joints
again. We thought it was because she overindulged the other night.
But she’s no better.”

“What night was that?” An odd inflection
colored his voice, and the expression in his eyes matched the
words.

“Ah…let me see—the night of the storm, I
believe.”

Her brother looked at her for so long her
face began to heat with guilt. Good lord, what was he thinking?

“Is there something you would like to tell
me?” he asked softly.

“I-I don’t think so.”

To her profound relief he let the matter
drop. After giving her one more penetrating look, he brought the
subject back to Aunt Prudence.

“Is Pru’s condition serious?”

“Oh, that’s what I meant to tell you. She
wants to go to Bath for the healing waters as soon as she can
travel. We need to repair the carriage, though.”

“You intend to go with her?”

“I can’t let her go alone.”

“I suppose not.” He sighed, and her heart
welled when she detected his concern for her. “It could be
difficult for you, Jillian. Are you ready to face society
again?”

“I shall keep in the background. I will be
there to care for Aunt Pru and only that. I’m not going to make an
attempt at socializing. Regardless of what Adrian says, people do
not forgive the kind of mistake I made.”

Her brother stared at her for several
moments and then he nodded. He agrees with me, she thought sadly.
She reached out and touched his hand.

“I’m sorry I’m such a trial, Simon, truly I
am.”

“I know, love, and you must forgive me also
because I can’t give up on you. I want you to be happy. I’m not
disparaging your life, but you could have more.” He drew in a deep
breath as though he were gathering his wits. “I’ll see to the
carriage. Let me know when you ladies are ready to travel and I
will escort you both. Do you have lodgings?”