The Last Duchess (The Lennox Series)(85)
On Sunday, they attended services because she insisted. “I will not rot in Hell, and neither will you.” She greeted the vicar afterward and invited him and his wife and daughter to tea in the afternoon.
When afternoon arrived, she appeared in the parlor dressed in a lovely, demure gown of rose muslin, her hair dressed perfectly, her demeanor gracious and welcoming when the vicar arrived with his lady and daughter, who vaguely reminded him of Bella, the vicar’s daughter at Eastchase. He wondered if all vicars daughters tended to be plain and mousy. As soon as they’d left, Jane declared the man a dead bore, but a man of God, so very worthy, surely.
He laughed far too loudly and she told him to shush, that God would hear and doom him to Hell.
It quickly became evident to him that Jane had a healthy fear of Hell. He asked why and she explained, “When I was a little girl, my nurse said I was the devil’s spawn, that I would die and he would take me back to live with him in Hell. She also said I was the cause of my mother’s death, that the good woman could not live with the knowledge she’d borne a child of Satan.”
Michael was horrified.
He assured her they would always attend services, to ensure she didn’t go to Hell. Then he prayed fervently that she would not entertain the possibility of Heaven or Hell until she was one hundred years old and he’d been gone twenty, at least.
Slowly, he began to fret. He wondered if she was with child, and couldn’t believe it when he hoped she was not. He would lose his mind, surely, worried she wouldn’t make it through childbirth. There was also his promise to himself that he would take her to Eastchase Hall and leave her there until the last month of her confinement. He was nowhere near ready to leave her. He’d become quite attached to her, would miss her dreadfully when she was not at his side. How had he slept almost thirty years without her in his bed? He finally admitted to himself that he could not, would not, remove her to another room.
He considered their daily, multiple, sometimes desperate couplings and couldn’t imagine she wasn’t with child. They’d been after one another enough to put even the most prolific of rabbits to shame.
During the second week of their stay, six days before they were to return to London, he awoke before her, made his way to the dressing room and the screened commode, then returned to the bed to awaken her with a kiss. He mostly decided upon it to aggravate her, because she didn’t like morning kisses until after she’d rinsed her mouth, exclaiming they both had horrible breath and it was not in the least romantic.
He reached for the sheet and tossed it back, thinking to shock her awake, but it was he who had the shock.
There was blood everywhere.
Bright and red, screaming of pain and death.
His mind exploded with memories of Grace’s slender body, writhing in agony, her legs and the bed covered in blood.
A terrible howling keened through his soul. “Jane! Oh, dear God, Jane!” He scooped her up and cradled her against him, rocking her to and fro, close to hysteria. “Jane, love, please, please, wake up! Do not be dead. I won’t allow it, do you hear? Jane!”
“Michael, be calm. I am not dead, you see.” Her arms circled his neck and she nuzzled into his throat. “Have you no knowledge of a woman’s monthly courses? It would appear I’m not with child, despite our earnest attempts.”
He held her and stared at the sheets, completely floored. “How can you bleed so and not die? Great God, it’s inhuman. What pain you must feel.”
“Am I to assume you have no experience in these matters?”
“None at all. I was always told when it wasn’t convenient. Until you, I’ve not slept all the night through with any woman.” He couldn’t stop staring at the sheets. “It’s so much, I can’t believe you aren’t faint and ill.”
“Nonsense. It’s not so much as it appears. I’m terribly sorry you’ve had such a shock, and it bothers me that you’re so distressed, but assuredly, it is neither painful, nor life threatening. I’ve been doing this for years upon years, and expect I will do so for any number more.” She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. “Are you upset I’m not with child?”
Crushing her to him, his voice shook. “No, Jane, not at all. It will happen in God’s own time, and truthfully, I will sorely miss making love to you once you do become pregnant.”
“Why will you miss it? Do you intend not to make love to me after I conceive?”
“Of course I will not. It will harm the babe.”
“Ah, Blix, you are clearly undereducated when it comes to women. I shall have to redirect your thinking, I see. In the meantime, I believe you should set me down, as I’m undoubtedly making a mess of you, go and get dressed and leave me to my privacy. I’ll not subject you to further knowledge of all this.”