Chapter Ten

Jane stood in the parlor doorway. Her shoulders stiffened, and a dull ache started in the back of her neck, travelling up through her skull. Her eyes felt impossibly, painfully wide, and her mouth was dry, a bitter taste on her tongue. Her stomach churned and she thought she might be sick again.

Robert did not seem shocked by Mama’s words. He nodded, as if she had confirmed something he already knew.

“Mama?” Jane whispered. She clutched the door frame, needing it to hold her upright because her legs were suddenly boneless. The room spun, out of focus, and there was a buzzing in her ears, as if a thousand angry wasps had taken residence in her brain. A wave of heat washed over her, and her breath seemed to catch, rasping over something sharp in her chest. Lucy clung tightly to her leg and, in a daze, she reached out and patted the child.

She was vaguely aware of Robert leading her to the sofa, where he sat beside her, holding her hand. His touch was firm and warm, and calmed her somewhat. The scent of his cologne and of the starch in his cravat were oddly comforting.

Mama stared into the unlit fireplace. Mary came with the tea tray and took Lucy out. Jane took a sip of tea. The world finally stopped whirling.

As soon as she was herself again, Robert moved away. The space around her seemed to chill, and Jane shuddered. He stood, hands clasped behind his back. “I believe I deserve an explanation,” he told Mama, his voice low, almost a growl. The air vibrated like the plucked string of a harp.

Mama poured the tea, then sat, hands in her lap. “I knew Ben’s mother at school,” she said, softly. “We were friends, though our lives were different. We were both orphans, but Mary’s parents had provided for her, and her guardians gave her a Season, which is when she met the earl, your father. I, on the other hand, had a small inheritance, enough to maintain a frugal lifestyle but not enough to join her in London.

“I never met your father, though Mary and I corresponded regularly.” She held out her fingers and studied her nails as if they were the most fascinating thing in the room. Jane found her own attention drawn to them. Short, tidy, with just a hint of grime from the soil under them and around them.

“Go on.” Robert’s face was grim, his jaw clenched. His eyes glittered and there was an energy about him that reminded Jane of a cat about to pounce on a bird. Mama glanced at him, then stared down at her hands again.

“I knew she was increasing, and I wished them well. It should have been the happiest time of their lives, but when the baby came…” Her breath caught on her emotions, and she paused for a moment to compose herself. “I was told your father took it badly. And when the doctor said the child should be taken away…Mary feared for her baby.”

A lump formed in the back of Jane’s throat, making it painful to swallow. Her eyes burned and a fresh tear slid down her cheek. She wanted to reach out and take Mama in her arms and tell her all would be fine, though she knew it would not be. She wanted to rant and rail at Robert and push him from the house, never to distress Mama again, but she could not.

This was all her fault! If she had not gone into the village the day he arrived…if she’d been more careful and not collided with him…if she hadn’t let Ben come with her to the shops…

If ifs and ands were pots and pans, there’d be no need of tinkers. The line her father had recited so many times throughout her childhood came to mind. The remembrance made her want to giggle. Recognizing that urge for the hysteria it was, she held her breath until it passed, and concentrated on what Mama said.

“She sent him to me with five hundred pounds. Asked me to care for him until it was safe to bring him home. She didn’t trust the doctor. She thought he would take it upon himself to…” A sob escaped Mama and she put two fingers to her mouth as if to hold the next one inside. “She died a week later. I didn’t know that then, of course. By the time I discovered it, several months had gone by and I understood your father believed Ben had…” She breathed out noisily, all her emotion carried on the sigh. “The least I could do for my friend was to abide by her dying wish. And by then, I…I loved him.

“I moved home and told everyone I was a widow, and that he was my son.” She turned to Jane and smiled, sadly. “Then I met your father, and you came, and the years went by.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I did my best for the child of a friend. Is that really so wicked?”

“It depends upon your perspective,” said Robert. He moved to the window and stared out over the garden. The rain had started again, and drops of water slid down the windowpane. “You stole my brother, raised him in poverty…”

“I raised him with love.”

“You denied him his birthright!”

“I saved his life! That doctor was going to…”

“He wasn’t yours to keep.”

“I did what I thought was best for him…”

“Enough!” Jane stood, every muscle rigid, every nerve on edge. They stared at her as if they had both forgotten she was there. “You are brangling like children in the nursery,” she said. “Ben is not a toy to be fought over. You should be ashamed of yourselves.”

Mama stared into the hearth, her lips pressed into a thin line, jaw tight. Robert closed his eyes, took a deep breath and opened them again.

“Mrs. Frobisher is correct. I apologize.”

Mama glanced at him, then at Jane, who raised an eyebrow, daring her to argue. “As do I,” she said. “It seems we are both protective of Ben.”

“He does have that effect on people,” agreed Robert.

“His mother didn’t believe that of everybody.”

Jane glared at Mama while Robert pursed his lips. “My father would not…”

“I meant the doctor,” Mama interrupted him. “He was the one Mary heard threaten the child’s wellbeing.”

For a moment there was silence as the two combatants stared at each other. Jane sat down again, on the edge of her chair, her hands clasped in her lap, her spine rigid. Robert returned to his seat and rested his forearms on his knees, his hands hanging loose between his legs. His head was bowed, and he looked heavily burdened.

Mama watched Robert. Her expression said she wanted to ask him something, but she bit her bottom lip and said nothing.

Jane felt a sharp stabbing pain in her chest. Her heart was breaking, but she didn’t know who for—Mama, whose secrets were about to cost her so much, Robert, deprived of his older brother for so long, herself, for the sudden loss of the family she’d thought she had, or Ben, who wouldn’t easily understand why his life had changed forever.

Robert spoke first. His voice was softer now as he addressed Mama. “You lived with your husband in Dorset?” Mama looked surprised and he smiled, ruefully. “I have spent months looking for you. You did not leave an easy trail to follow.”

“I did not intend to.” Mama’s words were flat. “Although after so long, I did think…”

“My father has been… The fate of his firstborn son has weighed heavily upon him. He needed to know for certain what had become of him.” He gave a wry smile. “I found the midwife the countess entrusted him to, and she confessed her part, but even so, you were difficult to find. Five different addresses in five different parts of the country, and in each one hardly anyone remembered you, let alone where you had gone next.”

“We have always kept ourselves private. Our neighbors were never privy to all our comings and goings.” Mama huffed. “And when we left a place, it was usually because I had perceived a threat, so I was hardly likely to give a forwarding address.”

Jane listened to them calmly discussing this turbulent past she had lived through and yet known nothing about. Her own thoughts tumbled chaotically. Her brother, Ben, was not her brother, he was Robert’s brother. But how could he be anything but her brother? Her head pounded and a vise gripped her neck and squeezed.

“When you lived in Dorset the second time, you stayed for many years,” said Robert.

“I was born there.” Jane’s voice sounded as if it had been dragged over sharp rocks until it tore.

“My husband was from Dorset,” added Mama.

“Ben was happy there? Settled?”

Mama nodded. “Yes.”

“Then why did you leave? You were established, and as you say, after such a long time, your fear of discovery must have dissipated. Why uproot yourself and begin again in Sussex?”

Panic roiled within Jane. She glanced at Mama, willing her to say nothing. Surely, these candid confessions of the past involved Ben’s history, not Jane’s. Robert did not need to know.

“Circumstances change,” said Mama with a tiny shrug of her shoulders. “It was time to move on.” Jane breathed out, relieved. Mama raised her chin, defiant, although the trembling of her hands indicated she was not as brave as she tried to seem. “Now that you know all, Mr. Carrow, I should like to ask you about the future as it pertains to Ben. What do you intend to do?” She swallowed. She clutched her hands tightly to stop the quiver in them.

“Naturally,” said Robert, “my father will want to meet Ben.”

It hit Jane then that there might be serious consequences to this strange history. Robert’s—and Ben’s—father was an earl, probably a powerful man. He would doubtless be angry that he’d been robbed of thirty years with his son. When he arrived here and saw how Ben had lived…

She looked around the parlor. It was a cozy room, warm and welcoming, neither austere nor too cluttered. Today, with the clouds low outside, it seemed dark, but on a sunny day sunshine lit every corner and covered everything in a glowing gold. But through the eyes of a man used to living in—what did an earl live in? A manor? A castle? Whatever it was, it was sure to be grander than this house, and he would undoubtedly look with contempt on the conditions in which his son had been brought up.

Worse than his disdain for their lifestyle, another question arose in Jane’s mind. What if the earl wanted to punish Mama for hiding Ben from him? Had Mama broken the law? Could she go to prison?

Jane didn’t realize she’d said the last two sentences aloud until Robert answered. “I have no idea if any laws were broken, and it’s a moot point, for I’m certain my father will have no desire to make life difficult for your mother. She acted in good faith, on instructions given by the child’s parent. But my father has missed his son, mourned his loss, and he will wish to become acquainted with him now.”

“I should be disappointed in him if he did not,” said Mama. Her voice was flat, as if she was trying to keep her emotions under control and therefore could not allow the tiniest inflection lest it open the floodgates. “Have you written to him? When can we expect his lordship to arrive?”

A new wave of horror rolled over Jane. The timing could not be worse. Even if the earl did not disdain their living arrangements and sneer at their poverty, he would be angry to discover the kind of woman Ben called sister. When he heard what Mr. Turner had said of Jane—and how could he not?—he would likely drag Ben away with all haste, refusing them permission to see or contact him ever again. That would break Mama’s heart. And when the village tabbies learned the truth…

Lost in her misery, Jane almost missed Robert’s next words. Certainly, it took a moment for their meaning to hit her. She looked up at him, her heart pounding furiously with both hope and dread.

“I beg your pardon?” she asked. “Could you repeat that?”

Robert turned his gaze to her. His lips, which had been thin and grim, turned up slightly at the ends. Not enough to make the dimple on his cheek appear, but enough to let Jane know his ire was not directed at her. His dark eyes softened and there was about him a sadness that made her want to reach out, to hold him close and lift his spirits. Her own, too. She wanted to feel the warmth of him near her, to let him banish the chill foreboding that tensed her every nerve, to be wrapped in the comfort of his scent and feel the cool silkiness of his hair against her fingertips while the rasp of his shadowed beard chafed her skin…

What was the matter with her? Why was she so determined to ruin herself and her family? The gossips already believed her a harlot. She did not need to prove them right.

“I said my father will not travel to Bloomfold. He is not a well man and does not venture from home. I will take Ben to Barwell.”

Jane’s spirit soared. The earl would not come here. He would neither hear the gossips’ tales, nor give them new ones. Then she frowned as her spirit dropped again. “Ben won’t know anybody there,” she said. “He doesn’t like the unfamiliar. He’ll need people he knows.”

“Oh, Jane,” scolded Mama. “Have you been gathering wool these last five minutes? We agreed it is not in Ben’s interests to make him leave everything and everyone he has ever known in one fell swoop. I will accompany them and stay at Barwell until all is settled and the future is decided.”

“Your mother said you would not object to her leaving. You and Lucy will have each other for company while she is gone, and she will be home again before you can properly miss her.”

“No!” The word burst from Jane before she could stop it. Both Robert and Mama stared at her, shocked. “That is, I mean to say…” She cast around for a good reason that she must come too. She could not stay here alone while the villagers spoke of her with contempt and picked holes in her reputation. She closed her eyes to hide her guilt over the fact that her excuse was less than truthful, and she spoke slowly, keeping her voice steady. “All my life, Ben has been my brother. I would see for myself where his home will now be. I am certain he will be well cared for there, but…I would see for myself.”

She opened her eyes and stared at Robert, willing him to agree. Their gazes met and held, and she could not have looked away if the world had ended.

After a few seconds, Robert nodded once. “You are more than welcome,” he said.