He knew then, they were well aware of her whereabouts. “I assume one of you will have the good grace to tell me where she has gone.”
They exchanged a glance before James said evenly, “Scotland. Our mother’s family is in Scotland and Jane indicates she will live there until we are all married, or she dies.”
“You say Julian has gone in search of her. Will he bring her home?”
Sherbourne got to his feet and went to the window to stare out at the gardens stretching beyond the back of the house. “She won’t come, Blixford. Julian follows only to see that she is settled in Scotland and funds are available to her that she won’t be dependent upon anyone. You are, it would appear, off the hook, and I ask you to leave my home with all due haste. It’s becoming increasingly difficult not to kill you.”
“Where in Scotland might I find her?”
James crossed one leg over the other and regarded him levelly. “Would you go and fetch her home, then?”
“I can’t in all good conscience not do so.”
“Yes,” Jack said, “you can, and will. Leave her be, and there’s an end to it. If she would go to this extreme to avoid marriage to you, we won’t insist, or allow you to demand it of her.”
Michael was well and truly astounded. He stood and looked from one to the other of them, including Sherbourne’s back. “She will be ruined! Her life will be nothing but a shuffle from house to house, with nowhere to call her home. She won’t be received. She will have no friend, no family of her own. Nothing. You would allow this?”
James slowly rose to his feet, his usually smiling face dark with anger. “Jane is well aware of how it will be, and assured me she’d prefer to live the rest of her life in reclusion than be your wife. For God’s sake, Blixford, she despises you, and I’m given to understand you do not hold her in high regard. We will not force her to marry you. I wish you good day, sir.”
And so, dismissed and despised, Michael turned on his heel and left Hornsby Grange.
In the days and weeks that followed, he fell into a deep depression, not unlike his frame of mind after Annabel’s death. But there was still his duty to produce an heir, and if he accomplished nothing else in his life, he would do that, at least.
Five weeks to the day that he was supposed to marry Jane, he took Lady Letitia Rawlings to wife. He recalled what Jane had said, that Letitia would cut off her hand and feed it to the hounds if it meant becoming a duchess. He’d been married less than three days when he discovered the truth to it. His bride demanded many things and refused him her bed if he was not forthcoming. He advised her of the error of her assumption that he would jump to her will, and told her she would give him an heir, or return to her father’s home. She complied, but hated him ever after. Whatever meager friendship they had when they began was quickly gone, replaced by cold silence.
Late in the night, mercifully alone in his bed after performing his conjugal rights and praying to God she would quickly conceive, he thought of Jane, remembered her determined face, just before she walked out of the library.
And cursed himself for a fool.
Chapter 3
Four Years Later
Michael arrived at the Manderly ball at precisely eleven in the evening. In keeping with his wealth and position, he was dressed in the finest clothing and accoutrements. In keeping with his mission of visiting death upon innocent females, every garment upon his person was black, save the froth of lace at his throat.
Not that his undertaking dictated his choice of apparel. Far from it. Of late, he always dressed in black.
He was announced. Lady Manderly sailed toward him, a vision of true horror in a puce satin gown, her graying hair styled in odd corkscrew curls that bounced about her forehead. “Your Grace, how lovely to receive you!”
He accepted her chubby gloved hand and sketched a slight bow before releasing it. “Good evening, ma’am.”
She tapped his shoulder with her fan, a useless, flimsy gewgaw possessed of numerous dangling lines of ribbon, each adorned with a glass bead. The damned thing’s noise was annoying in the extreme. “I’ll warrant you’re here to take a gander at the Season’s marriageable misses.” Her pale-blue eyes were lit with satisfaction. “I’m honored you’ve chosen my humble ball to begin your search.”
Humble, indeed. It was a crush. As for him taking a gander at the Season’s offerings, it was ludicrous, perhaps a cruel joke on Lady Manderly’s part, for she knew quite well, he might gander all he wished, but none save the most desperate and unsuitable would have him. Fixing her with a cold stare, he neither agreed nor disagreed. Instead, he got right to the point. “I would beg to know if Lady Jane Lennox is in attendance.”