The Private Affairs Of Lady Jane Fielding (7 page)

‘I will consider it,’ I agreed softly, ‘but allow me one boon, that I may have some time with which to do so.’

‘You have had time, and I shall continue to give you time. But Jane, dearest Jane, with every month that passes, suspicion shall grow. Arthur will visit again, soon I suspect, to see you shall bear an heir.’

I rolled away, unable to hold my husband’s gaze. ‘You take me for a simpleton,’ I retorted, ‘which I am not. I am well equipped with eyes and intellect enough to see the need before us and I shall consider it. In the meantime, it may be pertinent to write a fictitious account to Arthur and suggest that I have lost a babe, early in confinement. With luck it shall delay his next visit.’

Jacob hesitated, and smiled, clearly pleased by my ingenuity.

‘A minx you certainly are, but definitely a clever one. I shall do as you suggest and mayhap it will bide us time for you to come to a decision.’

Jacob moved off the bed, and I instantly felt a chill without him beside me. ‘I shall go and speak with Matthew, and see that his rooms are satisfactory. I will return soon.’

I heard Jacob restore his breeches and leave the room. I lay for some time unable to find sleep. Instead I rose, and washed myself in the basin, for although my husband left little spilled seed, my thighs were slick with my own arousal.

Eventually, I sat at my writing desk to write this account, hoping that it may assist in my coming to a decision. It has not, though I dare admit I have a greater appreciation of Matthew’s position in all this. I understand that if I refuse to take part in this ridiculous plan, Matthew must return to London with no benefit to his station. Arthur shall come to visit, and my future and that of my daughters may one day end up in his lascivious hands. A notion that is simply untenable.

Chapter 7

Friday 23
^rd
July 1813

I scarce know where to start my narrative today.

It was clear that my husband had spoken at length to Matthew the other night, and though I hadn’t confirmed my opinion on the plan, nor in fact spoken of it at all, things had changed betwixt the three of us, as one must agree it was most certain to do.

Matthew has ever been the perfect model of male felicity and propriety. Never have I heard a word spoken against the man, and nor shall I do so now. Despite knowing that I was considering allowing him into my bed for the purposes of procreation, Matthew’s behaviour did not turn lewd or licentious as I feared it may. If anything, he became increasingly decorous towards me, and in turn, my husband. Matthew spent as many hours in the library as he did hunting and riding. He is, surprisingly perhaps, of a rather bookish nature if truth be known. I have, however, perceived a tenderness I had not previously noted in his character.

Yesterday, for example, I was in the grounds with the girls and Nanny. Cassandra, my youngest, stumbled and fell. Matthew attended to her before I could even rise from my chair. As I went to ascertain injury, Matthew handed Cassandra to me with a look of such tenderness I felt my heart constrict in a manner usually in sole reserve for my husband. As I accepted my weeping infant, Matthew’s hand brushed against the mound of my bust. Again my body tightened and I felt the peculiar longing in my womb that I recognised at once as the beginnings of carnal excitement.

Matthew looked away with an uttered apology. It was then that my daughter began to wail further, and I returned her to Nanny. When I looked back, I could see Matthew striding back to the house, his shoulders taut. Before he could go, I called him to halt.

‘Matthew.’

He turned swiftly, his hair sweeping across his brow.

‘Would you not take a turn about the grounds with me?’ I asked.

He looked momentarily surprised, as well was I. How remarkably forward I was being. Yet I had my reasons. I knew that if I was to ever agree to Jacob’s plan, I must know more of Matthew.

‘Of course, my lady, I would be honoured.’

And so we walked, whilst Nanny took the children back to the nursery.

‘How have you found London these years?’ I asked, lamenting the awkwardness between us.

He looked down upon me with those sparkling eyes. ‘Well enough,’ he agreed. ‘The city is dirty, and air unclean. Though the Terrace on which I live is fortunate in that the prevailing winds tend to freshen the atmosphere to a greater degree there, than in other parts of London.’ He paused, throwing an admiring glance at Fielding Place. ‘I have an acquaintance who is an architect, you know. Just before I left for Fielding, he came to the Terrace. Due to my family’s situation, he could not help but note the house’s slow decay, and rather rudely remarked upon it. He believes he could make some wonderful improvements on it.’

‘How terribly exciting,’ I replied, with genuine pleasure.

‘Yes, he plans to extend the building into the back garden to create a conservatory…’

I listened with enthusiasm to Matthew’s plans for the house. They were wonderful plans that would see Mansbury Terrace become a desirable abode once more. Yet, I knew with certainty, he had not the funds. It would be impossible for Matthew to have the house re-painted on his allowance, let alone a complete rejuvenation.

‘Do you have the funds for this?’ I asked when he had fallen silent, clearly dreaming what would be.

Matthew let out a small bitter laugh. ‘Ah, Jane, you are no fool. You are quite correct. Even though the architect, Mr Bosworth, is a good friend and most amiable fellow, he cannot work for free. I can but dream.’ His expression was wistful.

I fell silent.

‘Still,’ he said, ‘I shall use what funds I
do
have at my disposal to do what I can and see to its upkeep. Never fear,’ he said with a smile.

I felt suddenly wretched. If I accepted Matthew into my bed, Jacob would gladly finance any improvements to Mansbury Terrace.

Did that mean Matthew was some form of whore?

I disliked this notion greatly.

Matthew is an honourable, kind man, who deserves a better existence than the one in which he finds himself.

I could aid him. I want to aid him.

Yet, I do not want another man in my bed.

Or do I?

This is a damnable position!

Do not mistake me. My curiosity is piqued. I find myself unable to kiss Jacob without supposing how different Matthew would feel. I have found myself absurdly prone to devilish thoughts about the man. I have come to believe that my reticence to engage in my husband’s proposed arrangement stem from my own reservations about the morality of it, not my lack of desire for Matthew, for, undoubtedly he is most desirable.

Before I could respond to Matthew’s conversation, Cassandra ran shrieking across the lawns in a vain attempt to escape Nanny.

Matthew laughed as he watched my young daughter’s antics.

‘Do you want children, Matthew?’ I asked when Nanny finally captured the child and dragged her back to the house.

He looked at me then, his gaze heavy with words unspoken.

‘Doesn’t any man?’ he replied.

‘I did not ask any man, I asked you,’ I corrected.

‘Of course, I do, but it is not for all of us. I have not the money or home for wife and children,’ he said.

‘Why have you not accepted the funds Jacob has offered you over the years?’

‘I am a proud man, I shall not accept charity.’ His tone was stiff.

‘Would you accept funds, if I agreed to take part in Jacob’s plan?’

My voice was soft, but I knew Matthew had heard as his cheeks flushed in response.

‘I do not know,’ he said. ‘The notion is an unsettling one, and one with which I cannot yet find peace.’

With those words, he grew even greater in my esteem.

We then walked back to the house in silence; our conversation had made me heartsick, but gave me much to think upon. His excitement when he spoke about the rejuvenation of Mansbury Terrace was infectious and I longed to see his eyes light up with enthusiasm again.

Whether Jacob noticed our conversation, and the shift in my sympathies towards Matthew, this night, I noticed with some consternation, that he chose to sleep once more in the sick rooms.

I find this fearfully irritating, as I understand its purpose. Jacob does this in the hope that Matthew may visit upon me in my bedroom whilst he is absent, as if in some illicit rendezvous.

An utterly ridiculous notion.

Indeed,
if
I am to partake in this ludicrous plan, amongst the three of us it shall be as transparent as is possible. I shall not have my husband wondering if his cousin mounts me in my bed, and I shall not have Matthew fear an untimely intrusion. When,
if
, I allow such an act to occur, it will do so with my husband’s full knowledge and agreement as well as my own.

***

Saturday 24
^th
July 1813

Today was Lord Stanton’s birthday party, to which we had been invited.

The day began unusually hot, so I dressed in a day gown least likely to cause me excessive discomfort. I had ordered Esther to keep my stays loose. It would not do to faint — I quite dislike the melodramatic.

We took Matthew with us, for it would be quite improper to leave him at Fielding whilst we celebrated at Stanton. Fortunately, he had brought proper formal attire, albeit, not particularly fashionable. Yet, I must say seeing Matthew and Jacob so finely garbed and both waiting for my arm had me fit to swoon. I consider myself blessed that the Fielding men, Arthur
not
included, are so finely formed.

The ride to Stanton was unfavourably long and hot. Pressed betwixt Jacob and Matthew I felt like a bird torn between two cats. I could feel the heat from both radiate into me, my belly was coiled and I am ashamed to admit my sex seeped with dew. Jacob’s hand took mine and tightened slightly, though the gesture merely inflamed my loins all the more.

I feel that I have become somewhat wanton; all this talk of carnal activity with Matthew is making me lose my sensibilities. When I look upon the man, and see the angular lines of his jaw, I find myself wondering what it would be like to kiss them. His lips are fuller than Jacob’s, but the line of his mouth naturally more severe. I find myself dreaming about them when my husband brushes his lips across my body. I imagine how it would feel if Matthew were to do the same.

Is this wicked of me? I fear I am coveting a man other than my husband, a certain sin against God.

‘Jacob.’ Matthew interrupted my sensual but guilt-laden musing. I turned to face Matthew. He looked uncomfortable, his jacket must have been sweltering in the confines of the carriage and his hair curled at his ears with perspiration. ‘Jane,’ he added in a softer tone.

‘What is it, my good man? It is damnably hot here!’ Jacob asked, wrenching the window open further so as to lessen the stifling atmosphere of the carriage.

‘I…’ Matthew hesitated and my body constricted, as if I knew the words he planned to speak. ‘I fear I cannot go along with this…this plan any longer.’

Jacob released an uneasy laugh. ‘My dear fellow, you have not yet done anything! Unless…’ he hesitated, ‘you have visited upon my wife without my knowing…’

The look of outrage on Matthew’s face may have bordered on comical had the situation not been so very perverse.

‘Good God! What devilishness do you speak of! I would never…I would never — ’

‘Fuck my wife without my prior knowledge?’ Jacob replied, clearly taking Matthew’s outrage for innocence.

Bile burned my throat. ‘Jacob. Do not speak so, you are offending me.’

Jacob laughed, dryly. ‘My apologies, I had to ask, everyone has been on such tenterhooks, I scarce know what is going on.’

‘This is exactly why it cannot continue,’ Matthew said. ‘I feel that every time I glance at Jane it may be misinterpreted. I do not wish her to cringe away from me like I’m an old letch, when in truth I am here at her husband’s behest.’

My face burned in shame.

Matthew turned and stared out the window, running a strong hand through his hair as he did. My heart tightened and I threw a concerned glance at Jacob who cast my glance away with a careless shrug. Clearly it was left to me to rectify and clarify the situation, if it was indeed rectifiable or capable of being clarified.

‘Oh, Matthew, no. I admire you greatly, and you are far from lecherous.’ I hoped my words would offer a level of assurance I otherwise could not offer.

Matthew turned to face me, his eyes darkened and brow furrowed. ‘And yet I feel so, every time I so much as glance at you, Jane, I believe you think I am seeing you through the eyes of a man who wishes dishonour.’

I felt such wicked guilt then.
He
had never looked at me in such a fashion, not once, and yet, every time I looked upon
him
, it was I who imagined all manner of sinful things. I can admit in this account that I often brushed my gaze past the bulge in his breeches, wickedly imagining the beast that lingered there. Sometimes, I’d touch myself during my bath, wondering how his caresses would differ.

‘No, Matthew. Please do not think such a thing, you are a deeply honourable man, and if truth be known…’ I hesitated.

Was now the time for my confession?

The weight of expectation was as heavy as the heat in the air.

‘Yes, Jane?’ Jacob probed softly, ‘Continue…’

I gnawed my lip somewhat. ‘If truth be known, it is I who has been looking at you in such a fashion. Since Jacob concocted this abominable plan, I’ve thought of little else.’

I shuddered and fanned my face rapidly to keep the stain from my cheeks.

Jacob squeezed my hand. ‘You need not be ashamed.’

‘Should I not?’ I quipped. ‘I feel positively wanton at times, and I am dreadfully embarrassed, and yet still have not completely declined this mad, vulgar, plan. And in truth I do not know if I even want to. Yet there is nothing for it, I admit I do have a curiosity…’ I sighed then. ‘Mayhap if you
had
looked at me like a dirty letch, Matthew, my repulsion would give reason for reluctance and yet…’

The men were completely silent.

‘As the days pass, I find myself less and less reluctant.’