Page 44 of Lord Garson's Bride
Had he? No, it couldn’t be true. Jane refused to accept Hugh could touch her like that, then rush out to pump his frustrations into some doxy. Call her naïve, but she just couldn’t believe it.
Jane glanced out the window to avoid the maid’s sharp eyes. While she and Hugh had been doing outrageous things in his luxurious carriage, the weather had closed in. “It’s snowing.”
“He mentioned wanting some fresh air.” The girl began to set out the dishes, then paused to place something else on the table.
“What’s that?”
“He left you a note, my lady.”
That sounded more like him. “What about his supper?”
“He said he’d have something downstairs when he came in. He also said he might be late.”
What in heaven’s name was going on? Although one thing was clear. She’d provided Mary with enough entertainment for one evening. “You may go.”
“Shall I come back to help you to undress?” With a curiously gloating light in her eyes, the girl plastered a humble expression onto her pretty face. Jane cringed to realize that everyone at the inn must know that she and her husband didn’t share a bed. The clean sheets were evidence enough.
“I’ll ring if I need you,” she said firmly.
“Very good, my lady.” The girl’s curtsy conveyed a hint of insolence.
Nasty little minx. Although she always simpered at Hugh.
Once Jane was alone, she ripped open the note. But it proved irritatingly uninformative.
I’ll see you in the morning. Sleep well. H
Sighing, Jane set the sheet of paper down and stared blindly across the room. Since the wedding, she and Hugh had been together every day. Perhaps he wanted some time to himself. The fact that she enjoyed his company didn’t mean he felt the same about her. She’d been so lonely at Cavell Court—the recent attentions of an attractive, intelligent man had shown her how lonely. Hugh on the other hand had always led a full, engaged existence.
Oh, dear, had she bored him? Was that why he left her alone? She’d seen no sign that she had, but his perfect manners meant he’d do his best to hide any dissatisfaction.
“Stop panicking,” she muttered. “He’s gone for a walk. It’s not the end of the world.”
But while she’d come into the parlor famished after a day in the fresh air, not to mention that exquisite hour in the carriage, now she contemplated her rapidly cooling dinner and wondered if she could swallow even a morsel.
Chapter Sixteen
Adistant thud wrenched Jane from a restless dream where she was running across the treeless wilderness of Salisbury Plain toward Stonehenge. But the monument kept receding, and she never got closer, no matter how she tried.
She opened her eyes to thick darkness. The lack of noise from the street told her it must be late.
There was another thud, and a muffled curse.
She was up out of bed and wrapped in a shawl before she was really awake. Cold air on bare toes banished the last of her drowsiness, and she slid her feet into some slippers before she rushed into the parlor.
Nobody was there. The banked fire gave off enough light to show that Mary had cleared away Jane’s untouched dinner.
Only as she stood in the empty room did she think how foolish this was. If burglars had broken in, she wasn’t exactly dressed to deal with them. She was defenseless, unless she intended to smother them in flannel.
Another bump from behind the door to the dressing room. And something that sounded like a groan.
It was Hugh. He didn’t sound well.
Before she could question the wisdom of bearding him in his den, she was at the door and knocking. “Hugh, are you all right?”
After a pause long enough to make her frantic with worry, he answered.
“Jane, go to bed.” His deep voice was slurred.
