The Private Affairs Of Lady Jane Fielding (5 page)

‘He is a wicked man,’ I murmured. ‘To torment a simple girl so.’

‘He is, I shall not deny it,’ Jacob replied. ‘Let us hope it shall be over soon.’

‘She cannot stay here, if Arthur returns.’

‘No, indeed, but we shall cross that bridge when it comes.’

I felt his kiss warm on my forehead, as his hand roamed and stroked the globes of my breasts.

‘You must be feeling well, again,’ I purred, and arched into him, willing him to stroke me harder.

He obliged and squeezed my breasts, sending a frisson of sensation straight to my woman’s parts.

‘Alas, my dearest, I shall decline this eve lest I damage myself with too great an enthusiasm.’

I smiled at him and kissed him. ‘Of course, we can make our son another night.’ We fell into silence, with nothing but the gentle breeze through the window to serenade our thoughts. I was blessed, I knew; for the first time in weeks, in the soft bosom of the night, Jacob fell asleep beside me. For a time, I lay and relished the warmth of his body next to mine. That night, I felt I’d never slept so soundly as I did with him back in my bed. Yet our peace did not last long.

Chapter 5

Later that month, my courses heralded bad news, not just for my husband’s potency, but Arthur’s actions in London.

I was in my rooms during my monthly confinement, reading. Jacob had reacted ill to my courses’ untimely arrival, as we discussed its ramifications

‘Granted, I have only just recovered, but we have never had to try for a child before,’ Jacob groaned that morning when I announced the news to him. ‘I feel this bodes very ill for us, my dear.’

I laugh now, at how confident I was that all would still be well.

I smiled indulgently. I was not nearly so worried. Indeed, we had tried most rigorously to get me with child, as many nights as Jacob was able, in fact. Yet I had not fallen. Still, hope remained.

‘Do not worry so, it is bad for procreation,’ I chided as I took his hand and kissed it.

‘I fear it is more than worry that keeps my seed from taking within you,’ Jacob said with a frown.

‘Nonsense,’ I retorted.

We were silent a moment and I rested my cheek upon his hand, offering my wordless support.

‘If…’ He hesitated. ‘If by chance Mary Anne finds herself the mother of Arthur’s child, and it is a boy…’ He hesitated again. ‘It is possible we could adopt him and raise him as our own.’

I felt a cold chill coil itself around me. ‘Jacob…what a thing to suggest!’

‘I am but half a man,’ he whispered, and I knew he referred to his withered plum. The sad fact remained: it had not returned to its former state, and I understood the greater the length of time that passed, the less likely the chance for a full recovery.

Jacob continued, ‘For all that I can make love to you, I do not believe I can get a child in you. Janie, you must see that. Perchance, Arthur’s illicit rendezvous with Mary Anne may provide the heir we need. After all, it will be of my blood, if not directly mine…I should very much like to raise it as our own.’

‘Stop,’ I whispered, as his words hurt and alarmed me in equal measure. ‘Stop it.’ I did not wish to hear more on the matter — it seemed grotesque to me.

He must have registered my unease. ‘We need to consider all options, my darling,’ he spoke softly.

‘You are only just recovered. It has been but two months since your accident. We have ample time,’ I argued.

‘No, we do not. If we do not have another child soon…’ he faded off. ‘If we do not have a son…then Mary Anne’s…’

‘Mary Anne is not with child,’ I said abruptly. ‘I had word from Mrs Bates two days ago.’ I was perhaps even more relieved about this now than I had been before — knowing what Jacob was suggesting.

Jacob closed his eyes and took a sharp inhalation of breath. When his gazed returned it was disappointed and this irritated me, irrational though the irritation may have been.

I tried to ameliorate the feeling. ‘Jacob, it is better this way. Really, even suggesting taking a scullery maid’s babe as our own? We are not yet that desperate.’

He smiled, but weakly. ‘No, of course not.’ He smiled once more, but the expression was tainted. ‘I have had word from Arthur.’

My belly twisted in more than just monthly discomfort. ‘Indeed?’

‘There appears to have been a nasty disagreement at the Gentleman’s Club my brother frequents. Arthur claims innocence, of course, but I suspect foul play. As you are indisposed, and thus unable to join me, I shall take myself to London this day to sort out his mess.’

Oh, how I loathe Arthur
.
Fool boy
.

I wanted to ask Jacob to leave Arthur be, let him rot in the squalor of his own making. Alas, I
could
not. I
would
not say such. A sense of charity is a virtue in any well-bred woman, and such thoughts really ought to be beneath my dignity. Yet, the sense of disgust the man evokes within my breast is nothing if not extraordinary.

‘Do as you must,’ I replied softly, ‘though I believe he deserves whatever torments await him, truly.’

Jacob’s expression was bitter. ‘My sweet Jane, how right you are; and yet, I must go. He is just a man — a weak one, true — but it is not for me to judge. I shall leave that odious and no doubt complicated task to the Lord.’

I laughed a little then.

Jacob mended what damage to our name Arthur’s indiscretions had caused, albeit with great cost to our personal purse. This circumstance was duly repeated thrice later in the year. It became apparent that he would continue to behave as such until we had a son,
or else named him heir
.

He was truly a wicked and unforgivable cad.

Jacob and I therefore had little option but to get ourselves a son.

What a bitter twist of fate it was that the act we had once so enjoyed with one another became little more than a chore, a task to be performed to no avail. Month after month my courses came with almost clockwork timing. So it continued, for almost a year, until today, Jacob developed a plan.

Chapter 6

Thursday 8
^th
July 1813

So I return to the present day, this very morning, in fact, when Jacob revealed his idea to me.

‘Do you recall my cousin, Matthew Fielding?’ he asked as I buttered my bread.

I thought upon the question a moment, unsure where the discussion may venture.

‘I do,’ I agreed, and sipped at my tea.

Matthew Fielding was from an impoverished side of the Fielding family. For a number of families within the peerage, the shift in the economy since the American War of Independence had been more difficult for some than others. Matthew’s father, Sir Walter Fielding, had invested heavily on the British side during the war, and suffered deep financial wounds. As a result, that branch of the family had little choice but to live quietly and modestly on the edge of society, and attempt to regain their fortune. For Matthew, I suppose he knew of little else, but the loss had made Sir Walter bitter. Matthew, his only son, survived on a pittance of an allowance that scarcely allowed him to pay the housekeep, let alone marry and carry on his own line. The whole matter made my husband sick with heartache.

Jacob was terribly fond of Matthew. He had been fostered at Fielding Place, and they had spent much of their childhood together. I knew, though it was never spoken of, that Jacob had on more than one occasion offered to supplement Matthew’s paltry allowance, but presumably dignity and pride forbade Matthew to accept. Thus it was that I wondered now why Jacob had mentioned his cousin, especially since the two had not seen one another for several years.

‘How does Matthew fare? Well, I trust?’ I asked eventually, aware of the peculiarly intense gaze my husband presented.

‘As well as may be expected for one of the impoverished gentry,’ Jacob replied. ‘I hope it is not an imposition on you, but I have asked him to come and stay.’

‘You have?’ My brow furrowed.

‘Indeed, and I am pleased to say he has accepted.’

‘How lovely,’ I replied, still trying to discern my husband’s reasoning behind the invitation. For one thing is certain, Jacob rarely does anything without good reason. ‘You may go hunting with him, I recall he is a fine huntsman,’ I added.

‘Quite one of the finest.’ Jacob’s voice faded. ‘Ah, Janie, but I confess, there is another reason for inviting Matthew to stay,’ he ventured.

‘I did not doubt there would be. You are nothing if not
pragmatique
. Pray, what reason is this?’

Jacob looked away, his eyes fell to his hands, and for a moment there was no sound but that of his breathing.

‘Matthew is my cousin and I love him as I cannot love my own brother.’

‘Of course you do,’ I agreed. ‘It is only natural, when Arthur is so…’ I finished without completion.

‘It has been a year since the…accident.’

A deep sense of unease grew within me, but Jacob continued regardless.

‘We have no heir, and Arthur is suspicious I may be unable to sire one. If truth be spoken, Janie, I am certain I cannot.’

‘It has only been but a year, we can still try,’ I argued, the same argument I had offered for months.

‘Have we not tried enough?’ he quipped, holding my gaze.

‘Never,’ I breathed.

‘Admirable sentiment, Jane,’ he whispered, ‘but our lovemaking has lost its joy. We have tried perhaps too hard, and to no avail. I cannot sire a son, I know this.’

‘You cannot be certain…’

‘Have I not said I
am
certain?’ His tone grew impatient. ‘Jane, what more proof do you need? We have never gone so long within our marriage without getting you with child. Our daughters grow, and yet no babe has taken seed in you.’

It was all true, though I would never admit it so. ‘And Matthew? What has he got to do with this dismal circumstance?’ I asked.

Colour bloomed on my husband’s cheeks; there was a long and unfortunate pause. ‘It is my wish that he may succeed where I cannot,’ my husband whispered.

For a time I did not comprehend his meaning.

‘What?’ I stared at him. ‘How?’

Jacob closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. ‘Must I be more frank?’

‘Clearly,’ I returned, ‘I cannot fathom how Matthew could…could — ’

‘He will sire a son for us,’ Jacob replied.

‘Oh, Jacob!’ I exclaimed. ‘What wickedness do you speak of? How could you drag Matthew into this? On whom shall he sire this heir? The scullery maid? Mary Anne perhaps?’

Jacob remained silent, his expression intent upon me.

Slowly, understanding began to dawn upon me as stared into his eyes. ‘Who?’ I repeated, daft though it was.

‘You,’ he whispered.

***

Thursday 22
^nd
July 1813

Though it wounds me to admit, I was disappointed and very much angry at Jacob for suggesting such a wicked plan. He made it clear in no uncertain terms that he wished Matthew to lay with me and get me with child, hopefully a son. He said that if Matthew agreed to the plan, and I birthed a son, he would assist financially in Matthew’s commercial investments as compensation.

Naturally, I was disgusted, shocked, and we argued most fiercely over it. I could scarce believe my husband would even suggest such foulness. Yet he argued in return — if I cared anything at all for Fielding Place, the title and his line, I would do it. Neither of us would demure to the other. We were at a terrible and bitter impasse. As a result, over the following weeks, we spoke very little indeed.

As I write today, even though I have made clear my opinion on the matter, Matthew Fielding has arrived at Fielding Place. I am if nothing else a kind woman, and I will not demean myself by displaying any ungraciousness to the man. It is not his fault, and I know from those heated words with my husband that Matthew remains ignorant of Jacob’s plan for him and I.

Thus, I greeted my cousin-in-law as I would any guest to my home.

‘Cousin Matthew,’ I smiled, though I fear the gesture forced. ‘Welcome back to Fielding, it has been too long.’ I offered him a curtsey and he took my hand and kissed it reverentially.

His touch came as a surprise, mayhap because of what I knew my husband planned. I wished at that moment I had my fan to cool the coming burn on my cheeks.

‘Lady Fielding, you are as lovely now as you were on your wedding.’

I blushed then, and inclined my head. If truth be spoken, Matthew was cutting a rather fine figure himself. I recalled him as being tall and thin, if not somewhat gaunt. Yet, this day he appeared fuller, his thin frame filled by manly proportions. Why, he could easily have matched my husband in form. As I observed him I realised the similarities were more than superficial between the Fielding men. Though Matthew’s hair shone the same gold as Jacob’s he presented a naturally unkempt appearance, offering a rustic and dashing windswept visage that was in marked contrast to Jacob’s wealthy refinement.

‘Cousin, I am so pleased you have come.’

Matthew encapsulated his kin in an embrace. ‘How could I not,’ he quipped, ‘when your correspondence was so full of intrigue and riddles. Tell me, my good man, what is it you would have of me?’

I felt the heat rush once more to my cheeks, this time with such fierceness I nearly swooned. Fortunately, Jacob caught my arm before the gesture could be noticed.

‘Come, there is time a plenty to discuss that. First, Matthew, I would know what you have been doing these past few years. I’ve heard naught from you, you devil.’

Matthew laughed, though to my ears it was hollow. ‘I have done naught worth corresponding,’ he retorted, ‘however, I should very much like to see these daughters I’ve heard so much about. Verily they are said to be perfect cherubs or so I heard Lady Carrington say. She told me in no uncertain terms that when it comes time for them to be presented at the season, the young men shall be duelling for their hands, so fine are these girls.’

I found myself laughing, absurdly pleased to have my daughters so highly praised in London society at such a tender age.

Jacob merely smiled indulgently. ‘Come, Bolton shall show you to your rooms, and once you are refreshed, we shall make our introductions.’