In the Garden of Disgrace (29 page)

“Lionel.”

Meredith put her face in her hands and
wept.

Nonplussed, Jillian slipped back into her
chair to wait out the storm. Her impulse was to offer comfort but
she found herself incapable of doing so. After several moments of
listening to the heartbroken sobs she reached into her bodice,
pulling out a lace hanky, and handed it to the weeping woman.

Meredith took it, sniffing into the linen
square. “He must really hate me to have done such a disloyal
thing.”

“Was it hate that motivated you when you
were disloyal to me?” Jillian asked quietly.

“No, no, I swear. I—” Meredith stopped, her
eyes widening with sudden hope.

“Exactly. I don’t think he hates you. But
that was a moment of spite on his part when he told on you,
motivated, I imagine by anger. No one likes to be manipulated.”

“I know,” Meredith said gulping on another
sob. “But I loved him so, much more than you did I’m certain—”

“I’m certain you are right.”

Meredith continued as though she had not
heard Jillian speak. “—You were always so well-liked. Everyone
admired you—not just the gentlemen but the ladies as well. You had
numerous offers, and…” She looked at Jillian as though she only now
comprehended Jillian’s words. “What did you say?”

“I said I’m certain you loved Lionel more
than I did. I was very young and, I suspect, in love with
love.”

“But if you want him I haven’t a
chance.”

“Why do you keep saying that? I don’t want
him.”

“He says you do.”

“Then he’s delusional. I’ve asked him more
than once to stay away from me. Besides…” Jillian paused, wondering
how much to admit, but she was determined to put the other woman’s
mind at rest—at least on this one issue. “There’s a chance I might
marry someone else.”

“Whom?”

Another confession. “Adrian St. John, Earl
of Wickham.”

“
Lord Wicked?”
Meredith breathed. “Oh
my!”

“Yes, although just so you know, I have the
very clear impression he does not like that name.”

“Is…is that why Lionel and Lord Wickham were
involved in an ‘incident’ last night? Over you, I mean?”

Jillian winced. “I’m afraid so.”

“Then there is no hope,” Meredith said, her
shoulders slumping. “Lionel has made up his mind.”

Jillian came out of her chair once more.
“For heaven’s sake, your husband is so busy pining over the past he
doesn’t know what he wants. I understand because I’ve been doing
the same thing for years. What you have to mend with Edgeworth has
little to do with me. It is his trust in you that is broken.”

Meredith nodded forlornly as she swiped at
her eyes with the damp handkerchief. “There’s something else.”
There was an odd inflection in her voice.

“Yes?”

“I’m increasing.”

Jillian stared at her, shocked. How could a
couple with a relationship this badly torn make peace long enough
to…? She could think of nothing to say. “Congratulations” seemed
inappropriate knowing what she did and “I’m sorry” cruel.

Finally she asked. “Does Lionel know?”

Meredith dissolved into tears again. “I’m
afraid to tell him. You have no idea how unpleasant he has been
since he first came across you here in Bath. Seeing you brought
back all the old memories.”

“Meredith, I don’t want to be unkind but my
understanding is that Lionel has not been an exemplary husband from
the beginning of your marriage.”

“I had hoped the baby would make a
difference.”

How many women had hoped that very thing
over the ages to little avail? Jillian wondered. She gave into her
more compassionate instincts and joined Meredith on the settee.

“I wish I knew how to help you, Merry. I
don’t know Edgeworth well enough to determine how he will respond.
The best I can do is to tell you I’m no threat.”

“Thank you,” Meredith said. “You’ve been
more generous than I deserve.”

“I would ask a favor of you.”

“I will try.”

“Please don’t mention my relationship with
Adrian, ah…the Earl of Wickham to anyone. It would complicate a
matter that is already delicate.”

“You would trust me?”

“If you promise then I will be
reassured.”

“I promise.”

Standing, Meredith retrieved her crumpled
reticule. Her face was blotchy from shedding many tears but her
expression had altered greatly in the last thirty minutes. The
women walked silently to the entry hall.

At the front door, Jillian said, “I have
confidence all will come about for you, Merry.”

Meredith stepped onto the walk then turned
back to the doorway. “I don’t suppose you and I might be friends
again?” Her words were laced with regret.

“Of course, we can.”

The other woman nodded, but Jillian did not
misread the realization in Meredith’s eyes. Both of them knew there
would be no more friendship. Something that dead could not be
revived.

*****

That afternoon a note arrived from Adrian.
He wanted to take a carriage ride. He would arrive at four
o’clock.

This intelligence sent Jillian into a
pucker. She had no idea why an arranged meeting seemed so serious,
but she suspected it highlighted the progression of her
relationship with Adrian.

She dressed carefully, pulling one of her
new frocks from the wardrobe. She needed help with the fasteners on
the back of the costume, and her maid Hannah obliged. Carefully
choosing her bonnet and gloves she then looked in the mirror,
feeling the effort was worth it.

A soft, sea-mist green, the frock enhanced
her dark hair and eyes, and the bonnet with one curling feather
gracing the brim was the perfect accent. She wondered if Adrian
would know she had gone to an especial effort to please him—and
what he would think of that effort. At five minutes after four o’
clock, on a lazy August afternoon, she learned the answer to her
question.

The Earl of Wickham stood in the entry and
watched Jillian descend the stairs, his expression filled with
admiration.

“Lady Jillian,” he murmured, placing a warm
kiss on her hand when she reached the bottom step, “Is all this
radiant beauty for my benefit?”

Jillian blushed, the formality of the
situation causing her to feel discomfited. Not that the thrill of a
flirtation wasn’t stimulating, but she liked it better when she and
Adrian were comfortable with one another, when they did not have to
put on a contrived face to meet a certain circumstance. Still, it
had been a long time since she had been courted, and the earl’s
open appreciation touched her vanity in a very gratifying way.

“Shall we go?” she asked.

“By all means.”

He took her arm and they left the townhouse,
strolling down the walk to the earl’s phaeton.

“Is this carriage new, my lord?”

Adrian smiled. “Yes, indeed. Do you like
it?”

“Very dashing.”

They continued their small talk as the earl
helped Jillian into the phaeton. He climbed in beside her, snapping
the reins.

The ride began silently, Jillian still
feeling uneasy as she intercepted an occasional intimate glance
from her companion.

“You look beautiful today, Jillian,” he
said.

“I must look awful most of the time or you
wouldn’t make such to-do on my appearance today.”

“Good Lord, woman, you do have a way of
finding the worst perspective on my meaning.” He spoke sharply, not
taking his gaze from the road. “Is this an effort to start a
disagreement with me? If it is I warn you right now, I have no
intention of going along with it.”

Jillian flicked him a peek from beneath
lowered lashes. He was correct. Once again she found herself
wanting to create an emotional barrier that would keep him from
getting too close. It was an old defense, one she should probably
put to bed. The earl was clenching his jaw as if annoyed and she
reached over and touched his arm.

“I’m sorry. I’m having to learn again how to
graciously accept a compliment,” she said candidly. “Believe it or
not there is an art to it and I fear I have forgotten it.”

Adrian gave her a long, assessing look. “I
was sincere.”

Again, honestly, “I know—I’m nervous, I
suppose.”

“With me?” When she dipped her head, he
said, “I’d rather you were not.”

“So would I but it’s not always that easy.”
She paused. “You know, this outing is sure to be noted by
someone.”

“That is what I had hoped.”

“You did?”

They had navigated Bennet Street which led
to The Circus in Upper Town, and the earl slowed the horses. He
drove onto the carriage lane that circled the interior of the
complex before answering her.

“My argument with Edgeworth last night did
not go unnoticed. I thought it necessary for me to stem the
damage.”

“How will being seen with me in public
help?”

“Jillian, consider,” he said. “You are the
center of the gossip whether we like it or not, two gentlemen
fighting over a lady. But if you are seen with me, if you have
clearly made a choice, it is Edgeworth who will look unprincipled
in the eyes of the
ton
—a married man chasing after a woman
who is affianced to another makes him a dastardly fellow.”

Jillian shrugged one slim shoulder. “It
probably won’t do you any good. As Meredith so aptly put it, with
my reputation being what it is, what is everyone to think?”

“That’s a damnable thing to say,” the earl
said, frowning. “When did she tell you that?”

“She visited me earlier today. Came with a
wretched attitude, but I think I’ve eased some of her worry at
least with regards to me.”

“Oh?” His voice was casual, but she knew she
had caught his attention.

“I told her I’m not interested in Lionel,
and I agreed with her—I don’t think I ever loved him the way she
does.”

“And she believed you? How did you manage
that?”

They were driving under an oak tree, and
Jillian rode high enough in the phaeton to reach over her head,
grabbing at and plucking a leaf from a low-hanging branch. She used
the action to hide her confusion, twisting the leaf in nervous
fingers.

Adrian turned to stare at her.
“Jillian?”

“I told her there was someone else.”

“Did you, by God! Were you telling fairy
tales or did you mean it?” He placed his hand over her gloved ones,
stemming the thoughtless action of her fingers. “Jillian, look at
me.”

Jillian dragged her gaze from the earl’s
warm hand and forced herself to meet his scrutiny. “I believed what
I told her, Adrian.”

“And do you believe it now?” His eyes darted
away from her for a quick check on the progress of the carriage
before he looked at her again. “Do you?”

“Yes.”

The grin he turned on her caused her heart
to flip-flop in her breast. Dear lord, the man had a wonderful
smile.

Jillian raised a brow at him. “I have the
impression you believe the person of whom I spoke was you.”

His grin continued unabated. “It was
not?”

“I didn’t say that. I merely think you
should not leap to any hasty conclusions.”

Adrian leaned close enough for her to feel
the warmth of his breath on her cheek. “But I want to, I really
want to.” Jillian sent him a sidelong glance and, as she did, her
gaze fell on a group of pedestrians who strolled the walk. She
recognized two or three of the individuals but no one greeted the
earl and her. One young lady began whispering behind her hand to
the person closest to her. Jillian did notice that a lone
gentleman, a Lord Wentworth if she remembered correctly, gave
Adrian a slight nod of recognition, but for the most part they
could consider themselves snubbed. For long moments after that the
earl and she did not speak.

“I’m sorry,” Adrian said at last.

“Very interesting thing about anticipating a
situation,” she said meditatively. “One’s imagination can conjure
the worst kind of scenario and reality rarely lives up to it.
Though that was not a pleasant confrontation, I’m not devastated,
either.”

His relief was palpable. “You always
surprise me.”

“Why? I’ve had time to become accustomed to
public opinion. I’ve ventured out recently, and except for Aunt
Pru’s friends, no one has tried to associate with me. Those people
on the street just gave me the first real direct cut I’ve received,
however, it was not unexpected. Last night at the Assembly Rooms I
detected quite a bit of hostility when I danced with Phillip.”

“It will become better with time,” he said
gently.

“The question is, are you certain you wish
to be married to a social pariah?”

“I think you can safely assume that I am
regarded much as you are, Jillian. We are a matched set.”

She plucked at her skirt impatiently. “Oh
please. I saw Lord Wentworth acknowledge you though he was not
overt about it. The gentlemen of your acquaintance admire you,
think you are a ‘right one’ as my cousin put it. Deny that if you
will.”

“I can’t, not when you put it that way.”
Adrian sighed. “It’s not fair but in answer to your original
question, I would be honored if you would accept my proposal.” He
pulled the carriage to a stop and turned to her, his expression
earnest. “I meant what I said last night—I love you, Jillian. I
think we could have a fine life together.”

Jillian opened her mouth to respond, but the
emotion clogging her throat stalled her effort. Instead she leaned
over and lightly kissed him on the cheek, an inappropriate display
but she no longer cared. In fact, if the idea was to convince
people that she had made a choice then this should do the
trick.

“Might I take that as a yes?” he asked in a
husky voice.

She nodded.

“Soon?” he persisted.

“Why so soon?”

His eyes deepened with memory. “Because,” he
whispered, “the next time there is a howling thunderstorm I want
you in my bed as my wife. Can’t tell you how frustrated I feel
every time it rains.”