Deborah Simmons - The Last Rogue

“Humph!” the countess said, scowling. “A little too saucy, if you ask me, but I suppose we should be glad he has finally married.” She fixed her steely gaze even more firmly upon Jane. “I hear your sister has already given Wycliffe two sons and a daughter.”

“A boy and a set of twins,” Jane said, surprised by the turn of the conversation.

“Well, I hope you prove yourself to be as good a breeder, for it is high time my son got himself an heir,” the countess said. Shocked at such plain speaking, Jane swallowed a gasp and bowed her head.

“Has a responsibility to the family, you know,” the earl said, in a gentler tone. When Jane had composed herself again, she looked up, only to find them both peering at her person as if to judge her birthing capabilities. Flushing scarlet, Jane opened her mouth to protest that there would be no heirs from her body, when Raleigh, obviously leery of what she might say, spoke quickly.

“I’m certain that Jane will prove to be an exemplary wife,” he said, and Jane wondered if she was the only one who recognized his wry tone.

“Humph!” Clasping her hands in front of her, the countess moved toward the settee, where she lowered herself majestically. “We shall expect an heir soon, but in the meantime, there is the small matter of Uncle Cornelius that must be attended to at once.”

“Quite so!” the earl added. He, too, took a seat, as if the matter of his son’s marriage had somehow been settled, while Jane blinked in bemusement.

“Cornelius Holroyd?” Raleigh asked, his surprise evident. “But I thought he was estranged from the entire family.”

“As did I,” said his mother, and Jane felt an immediate kinship with the relative who merited nearly as much disapproval as herself. “Apparently, he was seized with sudden nostalgia sometime during the past years, for he has left you something in his will.”

Jane registered the loss of the black-sheep member of the family with regret. She was, it appeared, the only one to do so.

“Me?” Raleigh said, moving gracefully to take the chair beside her. “But I’ve never even met the man.”

His mother frowned. “Be that as it may, since my brother died, you are his only living male relative. He must have learned of your birth at some point and decided to recognize you, though what, exactly, you have inherited, I hesitate to hazard a guess,” she added, her distaste evident.

“He has left you his estate, Craven Hall,” the earl announced. Jane, watching each of the participants with interest, noted Raleigh’s astonishment and his mother’s disgust, while the earl seemed irritated by the entire matter.

“A wretched wreck, no doubt!” the countess exclaimed. “The man was a veritable recluse who refused to discard anything. From what my mother said, the Hall was a filthy disgrace and ready to fall down around his ears at any moment.”

Beside her, Jane saw Raleigh’s disappointment, swiftly disguised, and knew not what to make of it. For people such as these, one property more or less was nothing, and yet Raleigh was behaving as if it was important. Was he so greedy, or was there another reason for his expression? Again, Jane felt woefully inadequate to fill her role, to ever fit in among these worldly, wealthy and titled members of the ton.

“Probably left you more debts than anything else,” the earl announced sourly as he crossed his legs.

Again, Jane sensed Raleigh’s disappointment and felt her own frustration. Somehow, those little flickers of unease flashing across his normally carefree countenance caused an ache in her chest, though she had no idea why his feelings, whatever they might be, should affect her in the least.

“What would you have me do?” he said lightly, as usual, but Jane suspected a deeper concern than he displayed. Was Raleigh more complex than she had always thought, or was he simply annoyed by the nuisance of his great-uncle’s death?

“Take yourself off to Northumberland—godforsaken place—and get a look at the Hall. Have it torn down, sold or whatever is necessary to pay his debts,” the earl said, as if he begrudged the departed even that.

“And, pray, do not spend a penny of your father’s money on it,” the countess added.

Jane found their disrespect for the dead appalling. “Is the man even to have a proper burial?” she asked. All eyes turned to her in surprise, as if they had forgotten her very existence, and she felt herself blushing once more. Only stern force of will kept her chin up and her gaze level.

“And what of Jane?” Raleigh said, as if giving voice to the thoughts of all the other occupants of the salon.

“You may keep her,” the countess said, rising from her seat in haughty splendor. Before Jane could blink, stupefied at such monumental arrogance, she continued regally, “Since you saw fit to arrive after supper, I shall have something sent up to your rooms. What happened to your valet?” she asked, with a look of disapprobation. Then she waved a bejeweled hand. “No, I think I would rather not know. I shall provide a maid for your…wife.” Pausing to eye Jane with lingering distaste, she turned to her son. “You may leave on the morrow.”

It was a decree. Jane knew it without even glancing at Raleigh, but she wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or horrified by her apparent acceptance into the household. Had she been wont to follow Raleigh’s parents from the room, she might have been more encouraged.

“The gel’s got strength of character,” the earl said to his wife as they headed toward their apartments. “Maybe she’ll settle him down.”

“Humph,” the countess said, with an expression of disgust. “We can only hope.”

Raleigh plunged into the cold veal pie, ham and vegetable pudding with gusto. He had swallowed nothing but that odious tea all day and was feeling sufficiently recovered to partake of a hearty repast, his enjoyment heightened by his surroundings. Instead of eating in the drafty dining hall, where the service was slow and the company stiff, he was ensconced in the small sitting room that opened onto his chambers.

And he had only one companion.

Raleigh darted a swift glance at his bride, still surprised that she had joined him. After the table was set, he rather expected her to flee to her room with her plate rather than sit down with him. But she was here, eating daintily, her back as rigid as ever. Did the girl never relax?

Catching him studying her, she sent him a withering glare that made him feel like a callow boy peeping into the maids’ dormitory. Lud, wasn’t he even supposed to look at her? Turning back to his food, Raleigh cut into a fat Bolognese sausage, only to feel his bride’s eyes upon him. Apparently, she was free to watch him, though he was not granted the same privilege! Ignoring her attention, he ate his potatoes, but as he chewed, he became aware of a distinctive disdain emanating from his partner.

It grew until he could bear it no longer. “What? Have I a spot on my cravat?” Raleigh asked finally, leaning back and spreading his arms wide. He took some small measure of gratification in her faint blush.

“No, I am simply surprised at the amount of food you, uh, consume,” she said, reaching for her water glass. She had refused the wine, naturally. It appeared that Jane’s palate was just as dull as the rest of her.

“I enjoy eating,” Raleigh admitted. Although not what one would call a sensualist, he liked his pleasures: good food, fine bottles, expensive clothes, prime horseflesh and lovely women. Not necessarily in that order. Drawing in a breath, Raleigh decided that he did not care to pursue that line of thought at the moment.

“What did you think of my parents?” he asked, genuinely curious. Raleigh was still not certain whether to be relieved or heartened by the tentative approval his wife had been awarded. Although he felt a bit cowardly for it, he wondered if an annulment might not have been best all the way around, for Jane seemed no more contented with the match than he. It was still possible, of course. Raleigh had not failed to notice the way the cloistering of the newlyweds away from the other relatives in residence at Westfield Park left the future of the marriage open to question. But without the full force of his parents’ ire behind him, how could he explain an annulment to Wycliffe and Charlotte?