‘Will you tell me something, honestly?’
‘I will.’ His brows drew together sharply, reminding her of the fighter she had first seen. He was wary, but his gaze was steady when he said, ‘I would not lie to you, Jane.’
‘Are you glad that you asked me to marry you?’
‘Of course.’ He moved closer, took her in his arms. ‘Can you not tell that I desire you?’
‘That is not what I asked you,’ she managed to say, although already her determination to find the truth was blurring. Her body wanted his, her mouth craved his kisses so she could believe, just for a little while, that desire was love. But it would be foolish to deceive herself.
‘Yes, I am glad,’ Ivo said steadily. She could not see his face, he was holding her too close for that, but she could believe him. ‘You are brave, intelligent, talented. We laugh together, we desire each other, you fit here as though you were designed for this place.’
Was ‘this place’ his arms or the Tower? She did not know and could not bring herself to ask. It was enough, it had to be enough, because she loved him and must hope that one day he might feel the same about her. But first they had to make this marriage work.
‘Yes? What is it?’
Jane startled, then realised that Ivo was not speaking to her. Flustered she moved aside and saw Patrick, one of the footmen. He was pink with embarrassment and gazing fixedly at the fountain.
‘The post arrived, my lord, and Mr Ranwick said there was a letter that he thought you would wish to see sooner rather than later.’
‘Now what?’ Ivo muttered. ‘Tell Mr Ranwick that I will be with him shortly.’
‘My lord.’
‘Walk with me?’ Ivo suggested, linking arms with her. ‘It might be something to do with the wedding preparations and, if not and it is all about leases and field drains, you can cheer me up while Ranwick explains it all in tedious detail.’
I am happy, Jane realised as they walked up the gentle slope of the lawn towards the terrace. It was not something she had ever thought about. One knew when one was miserable or angry or upset or delighted or frightened or content—but happiness as a constant state...that was new.
* * *
Ranwick stood up from behind the wide desk in his office as Ivo held the door for her. ‘My lord, Miss Newnham. The lawyers’ investigations and opinion on the matter of Miss Parris’s legal situation that you requested urgently, my lord.’
Jane’s stomach felt as though she had swallowed a spoonful of ice cream too hastily. She moved away and sat on one of the chairs against the wall, out of Ivo’s line of sight, suspecting that he had forgotten she was there.
Ranwick handed over a sheaf of papers. ‘To summarise, my lord, her aunt and guardian has moved to ensure that Meredith has no access to his wife’s money until she reaches the age of twenty-five in two years’ time. He is threatening to take the matter to court, but, as they know he has not the financial resources to undertake such an action, they doubt it will come to anything. Miss Parris, the aunt, has promised to contact them in the unlikely situation that it should actually come to pass. However, the rest of the report is less satisfactory. Learned counsel’s opinion confirms that the marriage is legal under Scottish law as we assumed and, as Lady Meredith is firm that she was neither kidnapped nor unduly influenced and deceived, there is nothing her family can do about it. Nor the lady herself, should she change her mind: it would be a question of divorce.’
He glanced at Ivo, who had made no attempt to look at the papers in his hand. ‘They wish to know, at your earliest convenience, whether they should pursue the matter further as they have several of their most useful agents tied up investigating the affair and following Sir Clement.’
‘Write and tell them to take no further action, but to notify me at once should Miss Parris require assistance. Thank you.’
He turned and left the room. Jane sent the secretary a harassed smile and followed him out.
‘I beg your pardon, I had forgotten you were there. What a damned mess.’ Ivo smiled ruefully, ‘And I apologise for my language.’
‘Perhaps the prospect of a fortune in two years will be enough to make his creditors step back and that will give Sir Clement the opportunity to consider his behaviour,’ Jane suggested, not very hopefully.
‘And my grandfather may take up Morris dancing.’ He stopped walking. ‘I should not have abandoned Ranwick to all that work. The poor man is attempting to teach me to be a landowner on top of his usual duties and the wedding organisation. There was the land purchase that you brought me the message about—will you excuse me, Jane?’
‘Of course.’
She walked back slowly to her rooms. That news had affected Ivo to the extent that he had forgotten she was in the room, had sworn in front of her and was now making excuses not to be with her. She knew he was spending hours with Ranwick already.
Stop it, she told herself as she sat down at her writing desk. Of course he is upset. He loves her, the treacherous little—
She contemplated a variety of phrases that were unladylike in the extreme and struggled to find some sisterly compassion.
We all make mistakes, she thought. But we do not all resort to violence as a result.
Jane pulled a sheet of writing paper towards her and dipped her pen in the ink and began to write.