The rain lashed the windows as Jane made her way down to the library the evening after the dinner party. It was Larissa’s turn to join her, and the girl moved at a stately pace that was no doubt considered ladylike. Jane tried to match her, for all she’d have preferred to pick up her skirts and move. After all, she might as well pretend she knew how to be a lady.

Alaric was standing at the window, hands clasped behind his back, apparently staring at the rain as the grey day faded into a stormy night. He turned as Parsons announced them.

“Good evening, Larissa, Mrs. Kimball. Please, sit down.”

So formal. Was something wrong? Jane took her customary spot, while Larissa perched daintily beside her in the other chair as if concerned the leather seat would swallow her.

“Did you enjoy meeting everyone last night, Larissa?” he asked as he seated himself behind the big desk. Once more the top was cluttered by papers, as if they’d interrupted him in deep study of some important matter.

Larissa folded her hands in the lap of her muslin gown. “Oh, yes, Father. Everyone was very kind and congenial. I hope I have the opportunity to further their acquaintances.”

Very prettily said, but part of Jane still hurt for the girl. It was the wish of a matron, not a girl years away from her first Season. Was it truly what Larissa wanted, or was she merely saying what she thought her father expected?

“I’m not sure when we’ll have the pleasure of their company again,” Alaric said.

“Of course,” Larissa said. “The Season will be starting in earnest after Easter. They will all want to go to London. Will we be going up to London too?”

She sounded so wistful. For once, Jane could commiserate. She’d enjoyed London far more than she’d thought possible. She made herself study the closest section of bookshelves, squinting as she tried to make out the titles on the fine leather spines.

“I may need to go to London to attend Parliament,” Alaric said. “But only a day here or there. No need to uproot you and your sisters.”

Jane turned in time to see Larissa slump in her seat.

“And how are your studies going?” Alaric said as if he had not just doused her hopes.

Larissa rallied and went on in some detail about the Maestro’s singing lessons, her proficiency at watercolor. Jane interjected where she could to include riding, mathematics, and history, as well as her sisters’ accomplishments.

Finally, Alaric leaned back. “I’m glad to hear things are going so well. Please give my regards to your sisters, Larissa. Now, return upstairs, if you would. I’d like to discuss some matters with Mrs. Kimball privately.”

Jane looked at him askance, but his calm, pleasant demeanor betrayed nothing.

Larissa climbed slowly to her feet. “But you require a chaperone.”

“Mr. Parsons will be here to make sure matters do not get out of hand.”

The butler nodded with entirely too much conviction.

Still Larissa held her ground. “It’s not right. You said we would come with her. You said you wouldn’t kiss her again.”

Parsons started so badly Jane thought he might fall off his feet.

“Larissa Mary Elizabeth Augustine,” Alaric said in a voice that would have made Jane quake. “I asked you to leave. Go to the schoolroom. Now.”

Larissa turned and ran.

“Make sure she reaches the schoolroom,” Alaric told Parsons. “Then return here immediately.”

With a wary look to Jane, the butler hurried from the room.

“So, are you sacking me or kissing me?” Jane asked.

He shook his head. “Neither. But this is not a discussion Larissa should be privy to. I had a letter today from Mrs. Travers. I imagine you can guess the contents.”

She could, and she suddenly understood why he was so distant. “I’m a scheming, wanton woman, and you should send me packing.”

“A fair summation.”

And what was she to say? He’d only just recovered from suspecting her because of Miss Thorn’s behavior. This letter had to reinforce his concerns. Yet how could she counter it? It was her word against that of the hero of the Peninsula.

As if he saw the fears crowding her, he leaned across the desk. “I don’t believe a word of it, Jane.”

Relief left her shaking in the seat. “Thank you.”

He inclined his head, straightening. “I would, however, like to hear what really happened.”

Jane licked her lips, straightening. “Even if it does no one credit?”

“Even so.”

She sighed. There was nothing for it now. “Very well. The colonel returned from the field to recuperate. He’d taken a ball in the thigh, and I imagine it hurt a great deal. He’d imbibed alcohol to deaden the pain, and in that state decided a widow like me must be lonely for a man’s company. He came to my room, pushed his way inside, and tried to offer me his services. When I refused, he attempted to convince me of his skills. I used a maneuver Jimmy taught me to incapacitate him. Then I called the footmen and ordered them to take him to his room. I had my things packed, resignation letter in hand, when Mrs. Travers came to order me from the house. He’d spun a fine tale, you see. It seems I seduced him. Why, I have no idea. He would have made a wretched lover and a pinch-penny one at that.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Jane. Your first employer attempted liberties, and I succeeded in them. What a poor opinion you must have of gentlemen.”

“I hold a true gentleman in highest esteem,” she assured him. “It’s the scoundrels who try to take advantage of those they fancy are weaker that get my back up. Colonel Travers acted like a scoundrel. You didn’t.”

“I’m afraid I cannot see the difference.”

He sounded so disgusted with himself. “And that proves my point. I imagine Colonel Travers was sorry that he was caught. You’re sorry because you feel you broke a rule. You and your oldest daughter seem inordinately fond of rules.”

He spread his hands. “Rules are important. I was taught they are the fabric on which our lives are woven.”

She been taught the same thing. Funny how it had never stuck.

“I’ll grant you they have their place,” she allowed. “And some are more inviable than others. Taking someone’s life for profit is always wrong but telling a mother her red-faced screaming baby is beautiful should never be considered a lie.”

That won a smile from him.

“Besides,” Jane said, “I don’t know any rule against two unmarried adults agreeing to share a kiss. You’ll notice I didn’t try my maneuver on you.”

“For which I must be grateful,” he said. His smile quickly faded. “Thank you for your candor, Jane. I’ll let you return to your duties.”

Duty. He held that concept so high. His care of the estate was a duty, his interaction with his daughters a duty. Commendable, of course. But what of joy? Of love?

Jane rose to her feet, heart pounding in her ears. She’d done outrageous things in her life—elope to be married, travel half the world living in nothing better than a tent, order cavalry officers about, agree to be governess to a duke’s children. Some had denigrated her for it, scoffed that she never was and never would be a true lady. What she was about to do was the most outrageous yet. Her father and mother would despair of her. Jimmy, dear Jimmy, would have cheered her on.

“I’m beginning to see my only real duty as caring for this family,” she said. “I know you’re in the market for a wife. Why not me?”

 

~~~

 

Jane Kimball, asking to be his wife? Joy leaped inside Alaric, forcing him to his feet. It was on the tip of his tongue to agree when Parsons hurried back in.

“Sorry, Your Grace. Lady Larissa went straight to the duchess, and it took a little finesse to set things right.” He glared at Jane as if it were entirely her fault.

His world crashed down around him. The river was rising. His precious lock was about to be tested. His daughters needed a mother, his title an heir. It didn’t matter what he wanted, what he needed, who he knew would make him happy. He had duties, obligations. They would always have to come first.

“Thank you, Parsons,” he said. “And thank you, Mrs. Kimball, for your kind offer. I will never forget it. But I fear I must decline. Duty, you know.”

Her face, always so open and friendly, shut, and he nearly reached out to her. As if she knew his thoughts, she stepped back, away from him. “Of course, Your Grace. I won’t trouble you further.” She turned and walked out, head high and steps steady. Never let your enemy glimpse your pain, his father would have said. His Grace would have been proud of her.

He drew in a breath. “That will be all, Parsons.”

His butler inclined his head and followed Jane from the room.

Alaric sat heavily on the chair, stared at the papers awaiting his attention. Requests from tenants, a demand from Mr. Harden to evict a trespasser from his lands, bills due to come before the House of Lords, correspondence on any number of matters. Duties. Requirements. Expectations. With a sweep of his arm, he scattered them. They fluttered to the floor, where they lay abandoned, just like his dreams.

 

~~~

 

Stupid! Why had she taken such a chance? Of course he’d refused her. Dukes did not marry governesses or cavalry officer’s widows. Even Larissa knew that. Why couldn’t Jane get it through her head?

She wasn’t some green schoolgirl, wide-eyed at the idea of love and marriage. She’d loved and lost. Alaric was nothing like Jimmy. There was no reason to expect a second love as great as the first.

Or perhaps even greater.

She stopped at the foot of the stairs leading to the schoolroom suite, pressed her back against the silk-draped wall, gulped in a breath as tears started to fall. Her impetuous heart had led her to abandon her family, follow a husband through mud and war. It shouted now that, against all odds, she had found another man to love and cherish. The problem was, he didn’t want her.

No, that wasn’t right. He wanted her. His kiss proved as much. So did the fact that he had believed her over Mrs. Travers. He might even love her, but not enough. Duty must come first. Like Jimmy and the cavalry, Alaric served another. And he had chosen it over her.

She drew out her handkerchief, dabbed the tears from her cheeks. She had never been one to lament her fate. Most of the time it had been a fate she’d courted. So what if her dreams were thwarted now? Upstairs were three little girls who needed her. She had a position and a calling. Perhaps that would be enough to fill the hole in her heart.

But she doubted it.