Page 82 of Lord Garson's Bride
Late the next morning, Garson woke alone in Jane’s big bed. Memories of their passionate union after the Oldhams’ ball rushed through him, exciting but not altogether reassuring.
Devil if he could put his finger on what troubled his wife. He’d hoped Jane would forget her strange mood when he took her in his arms. But while he’d thoroughly enjoyed what they’d done, he’d sensed an absence, even during the incandescent moments when she shuddered into climax and cried out his name with the husky abandon that always made him feel like a king.
He doubted he’d notice the distance with any other woman. But over the last days, he’d basked in a physical and, yes, emotional intimacy with his wife that was unique in his experience. Clearly marriage changed things in the bedroom.
So even with Jane stretched out beneath him and moaning with rapture, he’d known that she wasn’t the same as she’d been the previous morning.
His nebulous disquiet heightened when he entered the sitting room and found Jane sitting at the table, heavy-eyed and pale-faced. She stared down into a cup of tea that smelled of ginger. The downward curve of her lips struck him like a blow.
He crossed the room to kiss her. Her lips moved beneath his with no reluctance, but no eagerness either. Worried, he pulledback and took his chair, noting the half-finished roll on her plate.
“Jane, are you well?” he asked, with more urgency than the conventional question usually warranted.
“Hugh, I’ve got something to tell you,” she said in a flat voice.
Hell, perhaps she really was ill. Fear slammed through him like a speeding carriage and stole his breath. Last night, she’d dazzled the fashionable throng. It was impossible to find any trace of that brilliant creature in this subdued woman.
Shaking, he grabbed the hand that lay on the table near her plate. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Then staggering under another blow, he added up what he saw. The tired girl, the herbal tea, the lack of interest in breakfast. Elation made him sit up in his chair, and his grip on her hand tightened. “My darling, are you with child?”
It was all Garson hoped for. His wife by his side. A family. A future to look forward to, after years of wandering in a world where all happiness had died.
Just as quickly as his hopes rose, she dashed them to earth again. As she pulled her hand free, she was already shaking her head.
“No,” she said unsteadily. “The opposite, in fact. I…I’m definitely not pregnant. I found out this morning.”
That would explain her dejected air. Garson should have paid more attention when he came in, before he leaped to conclusions. “I’m sorry, Jane.”
“So am I. I know how much you want a child.”
He shrugged, even as he struggled to overcome his disappointment. “I’m not worried. We’re having such fun trying.”
Her smile was perfunctory. “You’re very kind.”
Kind again? He came to loathe that small word. “No, I’m not. But we’ve only been married a few weeks. I’d be surprised if youconceived so quickly.” Despite him doing his damnedest to plant a child inside her.
Jane began to pleat the tablecloth. “Will you mind very much if I sleep alone the next couple of nights?”
Denial slammed through him, and something that felt very like hurt. “Alone?”
She avoided his eyes and stared down at the crumpled linen. “We won’t be able to…”
Perhaps not. But exile to a cold, lonely bed awoke unwelcome memories of his early days in Salisbury. Even if his comfortable room here bore no resemblance to that airless cupboard at the Red Lion.
He realized with another shock that as long as Jane was beside him, he didn’t care where he slept. If she wasn’t there, the softest bed in Christendom felt like the cold, hard ground.
“I could still hold you in my arms.” He hoped he didn’t sound as needy as he felt.
She shook her head again. “That would be nice, but when this happens, I’m a restless sleeper. You really would be happier in your own bed.”
He damn well wouldn’t. But he could see she’d rather he left her to herself. “If you’re sure.”
She managed another shaky smile, and he had a sick feeling that she wasn’t far off crying. The lack of a baby had really rattled her. He’d had no idea she was this eager to be a mother. For himself, he was so wrapped up in forging the bond between them, he could wait. Hell, for a couple of years if he had to.
“Thank you. It’s only a few days.”
He had a bleak premonition that those few days would feel like an eternity.
