Historical Romance May 2017 Books 1 - 4. Bronwyn ScottЧитать онлайн книгу.
whirled on her, his pale skin reddening at the interruption. Embarrassment brought a faint flush to his cheeks before it vanished, replaced by the testy irritation of a lack of sleep combined with being startled.
‘Nothing, go back to bed.’ He flicked his hand at her.
‘No.’ He was mistaken if he thought he could dismiss her like a child.
‘Don’t be so stubborn.’
His accusation rattled her more than it should have. Milton used to call her stubborn, so did Philip, Justin and, on a few occasions, Mrs Hale. It had turned people off her so many times, but she had never thought it would happen with Jasper. It bit into her determination, but still she continued on. ‘I want to know what’s wrong and don’t lie to me about it not concerning our venture or some other such nonsense. I want the truth about whatever is going on at the hell and the letter you received today.’
His eyes flashed with irritation. ‘I needn’t explain myself to you or anyone.’
Jane stepped back, stunned but not cowed. ‘If you think you can hide things from me, you’re mistaken.’
‘I’m not hiding anything.’
‘You wouldn’t behave like this if you weren’t. Tell me what it is.’
‘I said there’s nothing.’ The tightening of the lines at the corners of his eyes betrayed him. She’d cornered him, but it was a hollow victory.
‘Liar.’
‘Don’t chastise me like you’ve never had troubles you’ve kept from everyone.’
The image of her mother’s sickroom and her on her knees beside the bed almost startled the argument out of her. She hadn’t told him about her guilt. She’d never told anyone. With him all but scoffing at her, she wasn’t about to reveal her greatest failing. ‘This isn’t about me. I’ve seen how this kind of thing eats at people and the damage it can do. Philip worked so hard to hold back from Laura, even after her uncle tried to kill her. It changed him and almost drove a wedge between them until Laura overcame it.’ With love, she wanted to say, but this wasn’t the time to say it and put him off the idea for good.
Jasper studied her with a sadness to make her ache. ‘You must accept there are things you can’t know about me.’
Like who the woman who wrote the letter is. Fear began to overwhelm her but she held it at bay. If she allowed it to engulf her, she’d lose this argument for sure. ‘So you say, but what happens when there are children? With the way we’ve been carrying on there are sure to be. Will you be there for them at night like your parents were for you or will you be too busy handling your private affairs to care about their welfare or mine?’
‘You wouldn’t say such things if you had any idea what I’m dealing with to ensure your and our future children’s welfare.’
She marched up to him. ‘Then tell me everything you’re facing, no matter what it is, and we’ll find a way to deal with and overcome it together.’
His expression went blank and she held her breath, thinking he might at last confide in her. A coal popped in the grate and outside two men called to one another before their voices faded off down the street. ‘I don’t need your help. I need my privacy.’
‘Fine. Pace a hole in the floorboards for all I care, but don’t wake me when you finally decide to come to bed.’
Jane fled the room, her hands shaking at her sides. This wasn’t the Jasper who’d kissed her so tenderly and laughed with her during the day. He was a stranger she loathed and she didn’t know what had brought about the change.
Perhaps Mr Bronson knows what’s wrong. She considered paying a visit to the hell and asking him, but she hated to garner information about Jasper in such an underhanded way. She didn’t know how he would react if she did and he discovered it.
She paused in the upstairs hallway, catching the faint reflection of herself in the black-speckled mirror. She was no longer sure this was a fluke and not some indication of how their future together might be. Jasper, her oldest friend, her husband, was, like everyone else, pulling away from her. In the darkness, the image of her six-year-old self being chased out of her mother’s sickroom by the cranky old nurse reflected back at her.
‘You’ve done enough damage already, child, now get out.’
‘But I want to see my mother. I need to see her and say I’m sorry.’
‘Your apologies won’t help her. You should have listened when she told you not to sneak out to the fair instead of insisting on having your way, you naughty child.’
Jane screwed her eyes shut against the image and the stinging tears. The nurse had had no right to be so cruel and dismissive, and neither had Jasper. I was only trying to help him, like I wanted to help Mother.
Her father and mother had been the first ones to leave her.
He won’t leave me. He can’t. He needs me. She dashed into their room and slammed the door shut. She snatched up the poker and knocked the coals with it, trying to elicit some warmth from the fading fire and making the flue ring with the racket. Without her, Jasper would never have his club, assuming he really wanted it. She’d heard nothing more about any plans to turn the hell over to Mr Bronson but she also hadn’t asked. After tonight, she wondered if she’d be able to question him about anything without it getting his hackles up.
She dropped down on the hearthrug, tossed the poker aside and pulled her knees to her chest, barely touched by the warmth emanating from the grate. The chill creeping through her was too severe and it made her teeth chatter. She wondered if the man she’d faced tonight was the real Jasper, the one she’d caught more than once hovering in the shadows just behind the carefree man. Perhaps she hadn’t noticed it before because she’d been too eager to marry to see the truth.
Tears slid down her cheeks. She’d wanted a life for herself and in marrying Jasper she’d thought she’d achieved it. She’d also wanted to be the most important person to someone and she wasn’t. Whatever he was hiding or trying to accomplish by keeping their spheres so separate was the most important thing to him. She came in a distant second and it stabbed at her because for all her hesitations about saying the word while they’d been intimate yesterday, she did love him. She always had and it hadn’t stopped during their time apart. She’d tried to convince herself she didn’t need his heart and could exist in a marriage without love, but like so many other aspects of her present situation it was a lie. She wanted him as much now as the night she’d tried to secure his heart nine years ago, to be his true wife in a real marriage, and he was pushing her away this morning like he had then. It made the sting of it even more severe.
This wasn’t at all how she’d expected marriage to be.
* * *
Jasper slouched in the chair with a view of the window. He stared at the brightening sky and the single star visible over the building across the way. He needed sleep, but he didn’t go upstairs. Jane had left him an hour ago and other than the clank of a poker echoing through the chimney, he hadn’t heard anything from the floor above since. If she was asleep, he could slip in beside her and rest. If she was awake, he wasn’t sure he could endure another spat. If she did rail at him, then he deserved it. She’d come down to find him because she cared and he’d shoved her away, as careless of her feelings as Uncle Patrick had been of Mrs Robillard’s plight. He hadn’t meant to be short with her, but during the day it was easy to be close to Jane, to laugh and tease with her. Not even her tender touch could drive back the ghosts at night.
He tapped the arm of the leather chair. The charade required to maintain his life was starting to crack around the edges and he wondered how much longer he could hold it together before something slipped and he revealed more than he was willing to explain. The effort of having to conceal his troubles, to sneak past her and then add more lies to the ones he already maintained when caught made it more difficult to control. He needed space to wrestle his past into submission and there was