Jon remained perfectly still, watching. There was nothing more he could do until the old man had finished struggling with his conscience.
‘You leave me with no choice,’ the rector said at last, in a weary voice. ‘You assure me that Beth has been no man’s wife, and I must accept your word. Though I must tell you, my lord, that I deplore what you must have done to establish your proofs of that. I would not have trusted you alone with Beth if I had suspected you might fail to behave as a gentleman should.’ He glowered at Jon. ‘It seems my judgement of you was wrong.’
Jon had risen when the rector began to speak. Now he clamped his lips tightly together. He could say nothing at all in defence of his own honour without impugning Beth’s. That he would not do.
‘If there is a risk that you have got her with child…?’
Jon looked the rector in the eye but made no other response. He had done enough to hurt the old man. He would not tell him a direct lie.
The rector shook his head sadly. ‘If she was a virgin when you took her, there is at least no risk of bigamy.’
Jon allowed himself a tiny nod.
‘And as there must now be a risk that she is with child, I have no choice but to ensure that this…er…irregular union of yours is sanctified in church. You have forced my hand, Jonathan, as I have no doubt you intended.’ He frowned up at Jon. ‘Go to London. If you return with a special licence, I will marry you both.’
Jon let out a long breath. ‘Thank you, sir. I…I ask your pardon for the-’ His voice trailed off. He could not think of an appropriate word.
‘Deception?’
Jon flushed like a guilty schoolboy caught in some childish mischief. ‘You have every right to be angry, sir, and I admit that my behaviour has been…er…less honourable than you had the right to expect. For that, and that alone, I apologise unreservedly. I hope that I may, one day, regain your trust.’ He raised his chin. ‘However, I cannot apologise for what has been done, since there was no other route that could have led to marriage between myself and Beth. That I could never regret, even if it were to lead to a rift with you. Needless to say, I fervently hope that it will not.’
The rector’s eyes had lost their rheumy cast. They had become thoughtful instead. He nodded slowly, twice. ‘I doubt there will be any rift, provided… Jonathan, I have one question for you. Tell me the truth of it, on your honour. Was Beth a willing partner in this?’
The question twisted in Jon’s gut. The rector was asking if he had taken Beth by force, to ensure she could not refuse him. How could a Christian gentleman think such a thing?
The rector sighed. With relief, Jon supposed. ‘Since I have every intention of forgetting what has passed between us this morning, you may be easy now, Jonathan.’ The harshness of tone was gone. ‘I shall say nothing to my wife. Or to Beth. Other than to offer my congratulations, of course.’ His warm smile lit up his eyes. He might disapprove of what they had done, but he was glad for them both, or for Beth, at least.
‘You are very generous, sir.’
‘Thank you, my boy. Shall you live here at Fratcombe, do you think?’ It sounded like the most natural enquiry possible. The inquisition was done, and forgotten.
‘For some of the time, I am sure,’ Jon replied, relaxing at last. ‘Beth will want to keep an eye on her school and on the progress of her little ones. I shall endow it on her behalf, of course, so that you may employ a replacement teacher. But I imagine we shall spend much of the year at King’s Portbury, my principal seat. May I hope, sir, that you and Mrs Aubrey will visit us? I am sure that Beth will join me in issuing the invitation, the moment we are settled at Portbury Abbey.’
The rector cocked his head on one side and narrowed his eyes, though his smile did not falter. After a moment, he said, ‘That is very generous of you, Jonathan. Mrs Aubrey will be most gratified, I am sure. And speaking of Mrs Aubrey-’ he crossed to the fire to pull the bell ‘-I think it is high time we gave her this momentous news. She will wish to congratulate you both.’
He turned to smile wickedly at Jon. ‘I have not seen Beth yet today. I wonder how she will look? I imagine- don’t you?-that she will be blooming like a rose, now that she is…er…betrothed.’
Chapter Twelve
Jon gazed at the dying fire as he savoured the last of his port. Supper had been something of a trial, even though he had dismissed the servants. Beth had seemed subdued, even anxious. Jon could not understand it. Now that they were married, her position was secure. No mere Lady Fitzherbert could harm her. Surely she could not be fearing her wedding night? They both knew that their lovemaking could be glorious.
She would be in her bedchamber now, their private realm. Jon felt his body stirring in anticipation and swore at the flames. He could not endure the thought of backstairs gossip about the master’s feelings for his wife. If he was to avoid that, he would have to pay particular attention to keeping a proper distance from Beth. Cool formality was required between an earl and his countess. He had seen it between his parents, even without servants present. It was a lesson Jon had learned very young. It should not be difficult to put it into practice now.
He glanced at the clock. Too soon yet to join her. He would drink another glass of port. Slowly.
He began to make plans for the journey from Fratcombe to London, hoping that it would divert his thoughts from the night’s pleasures to come. Gentle, prolonged lovemaking was what they needed, for the early days of their marriage. Unfortunately, travelling so late in the year would not make that easy.
Tomorrow, he would tell his steward to organise Portbury horses at all the staging posts. That would make the journey more comfortable for Beth, and quicker, too. The sooner Jon had her installed at King’s Portbury, the sooner their comfortable union could truly begin. And then his mother could take over the task of instructing Beth in her duties.
His mother would welcome Beth with open arms, he was sure. He could not promise her an heir yet, but he fully intended to do his best to get one. With Beth, he would enjoy the intimate side of their life. Perhaps, one day, he might even be able to tell her about-
No! There were some things that a gently bred lady should never hear, even from her husband. In that dark moment, Jon realised that he would not be able to sleep in Beth’s bed, however much he wanted to hold her in his arms. He could not take the risk. He must always leave her to sleep alone.
This was not a bedchamber, Beth decided. It was paradise.
‘Happy, my dear?’
Beth forced her heavy eyelids open. Jon was leaning over her, gazing down into her face. ‘Mmm.’ The tiny lines around his eyes relaxed but otherwise he did not move a fraction. He was waiting for her to say something a little more…er…meaningful. ‘When we were…um…together at the folly,’ she began shyly, ‘it was wonderful. I did not think that anything could be- But here, in our marriage bed, it was utterly blissful.’
‘Ah.’ He sank back on to the bed beside her and pulled her into his embrace. After a second or two, his fingers began idly playing with a lock of her hair, pulling it straight and watching it spring back into a tight curl. ‘You have beautiful hair, Beth. I cannot tell you how often I have longed to do that.’ He repeated the gesture and laughed at the simple pleasure of it.
She was, without doubt, the happiest woman in the world. She had married the man she loved and, while he did not love her in return, he must care for her a little. How could their physical union be so glorious if he did not? He was very formal and reserved in public-too much so for Beth’s taste-but that might change. And, even if it did not, she would have moments like these, when he held her in his arms and they could talk about anything, and nothing. They had all the rest of the night in front of them.
‘Will you teach me about the stars, Jon?’
‘If you wish it. But that cannot be until we return to Fratcombe, next year.’
‘Oh.’ Beth had dreamt of being carried up to the folly roof again, safe in Jon’s arms. But perhaps it was for the best. It was truly winter now. They could wait until the summer, when the weather would be warm enough to
