Jane Lark - The Secret Love of a Gentleman

“I am staying with Drew and Mary for the summer…” He searched for words.

“I know, Mr Marlow.”

Her gaze left his and looked for someone to rescue her, probably Drew.

“Rob, Caroline, not Mr Marlow. Look at me,” he said again. If she would look at him, then maybe he could begin to help break her fear.

She did, but her gaze raged at him, bidding him to leave her alone.

“Why do you not feel comfortable?”

She looked away. She was about to rise and run again. Instinctively he reached out and caught hold of her wrist. “Caroline…” But immediately he realised what he’d done. No one touched her except Drew, Mary and the children. Everyone knew Caroline could not abide to be touched.

It was as though a lightning bolt struck between them her reaction was so violent and sudden. Her gaze accused him of committing murder as his fingers opened. Her arm slipped from his hold when she rose from her chair and fled again, crossing the room to the safety of Mary.

Rob watched her flight and felt a heel. He should not have pushed her.

He looked at his sister and awaited a glance of condemnation. None came. Caroline did not tell Mary, and no one in the room had noticed that he’d approached Caroline.

He rested his elbow on the arm of the chair and his chin on his fist, still watching Caroline.

“You’re miles away, where are you?” Rob’s uncle Robert, the Earl of Barrington, occupied the chair Caroline had vacated.

As Rob leant back, his ankle lifted to rest on his opposite knee and he smiled. Uncle Robert was his favourite uncle, his father’s brother. Rob had been named for him.

“I did not think you were coming. I thought you were going home to Yorkshire.”

“Jane wished to spend some time with everyone before we left. I gave in to her coercion.”

Aunt Jane was sitting at the pianoforte, in the company of his cousin Margaret, sorting through music.

Rob had been close to them from a young age. Their eldest son, Henry, was of an age with Harry, so Rob and Harry had stayed with them frequently as children.

Henry was more like Harry, though. They were both currently standing to one side of the room drinking and laughing with the others of their age group.

Rob looked back at his uncle. Robert had undertaken a grand tour, as John had. “Did you enjoy the continent when you were there?”

Robert smiled, then looked at his wife. “Jane grew up on a manor bordering my father’s land. We were close as children. I was in love with her, but she married someone else, an arranged marriage. She broke my heart. I left England because I was miserable. My time abroad was equally miserable.”

Rob shifted to sit upright, his leg falling from his knee. He’d known Jane grew up with his uncle and his father, but he had not known his uncle had loved her then. His father often likened Harry to their uncle Robert, but in that context there was nothing similar. “I thought you’d gone abroad for fun, like John.”

“No, I was sent there in disgrace by your grandfather. I’d dropped out of university and become an embarrassment.”

“I did not know. I’m sorry.”

“Why should you have known? What of you? Have you decided what you will do?”

“No, beyond finding rooms in London during the summer.” He’d told none of his family about his great plan. He knew if he spoke of it they would grasp upon the idea, and in the name of helpfulness take it over and manipulate it all so that the achievement would not be his. If he wished to take up a place in the House of Commons and speak for the working class he needed to first earn the people’s trust and win a true vote, not one contrived by his family.

“You know you would be welcome with us, if you wished to come. The tenants are due to leave the estate, which used to belong to Jane’s father. I’d be happy for you to take it over and cut your teeth managing that.”

Rob’s father had done that, he’d managed all of the Barrington Estate, while Robert had been abroad and, like John, Rob’s father set the bar high for any comparison. No, Rob wished to take his life in a direction that no one in his family had gone. Following in his father’s footsteps and relying on his uncle held no greater pleasure than living off his brother’s generosity.

“It is only an offer, Robbie…”

Rob’s gaze travelled to where Caroline stood. She had been looking at him; she looked away.

A spasm seized his stomach. It was odd to have her look at him.

“If you change your mind write and let me know. I’ll probably not re-let it for a few months; there is some work to be done on the house.”

Rob looked at his uncle. “Henry may want it in a couple of years?”

“Henry will have plenty to occupy him on my other estates and Henry is not you. My son is reckless and self-absorbed. He’ll not settle to anything that requires sobriety and forethought for years. The only thing he is currently interested in is racing horses. He spends more time with Forth than me.”

Lord Forth, who bred horses, was a neighbour of Uncle Robert’s and a friend of Rob’s father’s too.

“Racing is Henry’s passion and his weakness,” Rob stated.

“What is your weakness?” His uncle lifted an eyebrow.

His whole family believed he had no weaknesses, thanks to Harry’s mocking. His brother liked to taunt Rob for being staid. Or boring, as Harry put it. But Harry was so damned wild Rob had always been too busy hauling his brother out of scrapes to get into any of his own. Being the eldest boy he’d been forced into responsibility for his siblings.

Yet his peers in the family had never done the same.

It was true he had no vice, though. But he did not think himself dull.

He’d drunk excessively once, and woken up hating the fact he could not recall what he’d said and done. He’d played cards for money once and lost half his allowance, then considered gambling a fool’s game.

Perhaps his weakness was idealism. But in truth, now… “A lack of inspiration.” The look he shared with his uncle mocked himself. He had this great plan, but really it was no plan at all, simply fanciful, he did not have a method by which to achieve it.

“Something will come along to give you purpose. Wait and see.” His uncle looked away, turning as his eldest daughter, who was fifteen, joined them.

“We are going to dance, will you dance with me, Papa?” She gave Rob a smile. Julie had her mother’s unusual green eyes.

“Julie.” Rob nodded.

“Robbie,” she bobbed a shallow curtsy. It was unnecessary but the girl was already practising for her debut. He smiled more broadly and she smiled brightly.

“I shall be honoured, young lady.” Uncle Robert stood.

Rob looked across the room. Caroline was standing beside his sister, looking at him. Before she had chance to look away, he smiled as he had just done at his cousin. Red stained Caroline’s cheeks when she did look away.

Rob rose. It would be crass of him not to offer to escort one his female cousins in the dance.

They danced a string of over half a dozen country dances, and he participated in every one with one of his cousins or sisters, but as he did so, he noted Caroline watching him frequently. If he’d been more courageous he would have offered to partner her, but she never danced.

He wondered if she wished to dance, if perhaps she was trapped by her fears and they were just as disturbing for her as they were for those trying desperately not to upset her.

Idealism was certainly his fault, because in his mind’s eye he saw her dancing. She’d come to life when she’d spoken with Mary. How much more would she come to life if she danced without fear.

I shall dance with her by the end of the summer. The promise whispered through his soul. He abhorred dares, dares were another thing that was Harry’s forte—but if Rob wished to achieve something, when he set his mind to it, he did so with determination. He would see her dance because he firmly believed, from the amount of times she had looked at him this evening, she was not happy to be withheld by her fear. She wished to dance.