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The man’s eyes flickered. “I am not lying. Wearehaving an affair. The sooner you accept that truth, the better.” His gaze was withering. “You should just go back to Brighton or London, Carlisle. You do not belong in Seaborne.”
Percy wanted to smash his fist into the man’s smug face. He controlled himself with difficulty. There was little point staying here. Jane wasn’t here, and the man was stubbornly insisting on the affair and wasn’t going to change his story. Percy needed to see Jane now and hear her side of it.
“You will never win her,” taunted Crawford as he turned and walked away. “You have lost, Carlisle.”
Percy didn’t reply. He didn’t look back. He was still seething with anger, and it was difficult to think straight. There was one thing that was going against Crawford’s story—Jane wasn’t here. If they had arranged an assignation, she had either changed her mind or had never been planning to go there at all.
He knew that didn’t mean it wasn’t all true, of course. There could be a hundred reasons as to why Jane wasn’t here. Perhaps she had been waylaid.
His heart contorted with pain. He didn’t know when he had ever felt such pain. The thought of her with Crawford, carrying on a secret affair this whole time, made him feel sick to his stomach. And it was reinforcing the glaring truth that he had only just discovered: he really was in love with her. He must get the truth of it from her own lips before he surely died.
***
Jane sat in the parlour, sketching, with Marianne by her side. She couldn’t stop thinking about Percy and that day at Cliff Lodge. Something had changed between them. It was almost like she could see it. A barrier had been broken down. And she didn’t know whether she would ever be the same again.
It wasn’t just the lovemaking, although that had been wonderful. It had felt so liberating to finally speak of her mother’s deathbed revelation, although she had stopped short of telling him about the vow her mother had forced her to make. It was as if talking about it had taken the weight off her, just a little bit. And he had understood in a way she didn’t think anyone else ever would, even her own sister. Because he had gone through something similar.
She blinked back tears. He was respecting her wishes. It had been three days since the day of the storm, and he hadn’t called upon her. She had told him it must end, and he was finally listening to her. She was getting what she claimed she wanted.
So why was it making her feel so miserable?
She heard a knock at the front door. Marianne heard it, too, standing up, smoothing out the creases in her gown.
“Probably another caller for Lucy,” said her sister, rolling her eyes. “Whoever it is shall be disappointed when I tell him she is not here.” She bustled away.
Jane put down her sketchbook. She was not in the mood for talking to anyone, and if it was just a regular caller rather than someone for Lucy whom Marianne could send away, then she would be forced to. She must make her escape now.
Quickly, she headed towards the parlour door. But then she stopped short. Marianne was there. And standing beside her was none other than the Earl of Carlisle. Jane felt herself pale. His face was full of thunder.
Chapter 32
Jane’s mind was whirling as they all sat down. While Marianne called for tea, Jane glanced at Percy. He was gazing at her intently, almost searchingly. Her stomach lurched. She didn’t know what was going on, but he was clearly agitated.
There was a strained silence while they waited for the tea. Marianne looked puzzled, glancing from her sister to the earl. Jane clasped her hands together on her lap, gazing down at them, trying to will them to stop trembling.
When the tea finally arrived, Marianne stood up. Jane glanced up at her sister questioningly. What was she doing?
“I am afraid I feel a bit ill all of a sudden,” she said. “A headache has come upon me. I do apologise, but I shall need to lie down until it subsides. Please stay, my lord. I am confident that my sister can entertain you alone.”
Percy looked shocked. Jane flushed with embarrassment. What was Marianne doing? Her sister knew very well that she shouldn’t be left alone with the earl. There was no one else at home to chaperone. Both Lucy and their father were out. And she didn’t think Marianne had a headache at all.
She opened her mouth to protest, but Marianne was already walking towards the door. To Jane’s astonishment, her sister actually winked at her before closing the parlour door firmly behind her.
They were alone.
Jane couldn’t look at him. This was so unprecedented she didn’t know how to proceed at all.
“Jane,” he said in a sharp voice.
She knew she couldn’t avoid it forever. Slowly, she turned to him, her face still burning with embarrassment.
She gasped. She had never seen him looking so agitated. A vein was twitching in his left temple, and his eyes were full of torment. Her heart flipped over in her chest.
“I need to know the truth,” he suddenly blurted. “About you and Charles Crawford.”
“I beg your pardon?” She hadn’t expected him to say that. “The truth about what?”
He leaned forward, studying her face. “He claims that the two of you are having a secret affair. That you are in love.”
