Page 47 of My One and Only Duke
The angry red weal hadn’t faded from his neck. A mere half inch was visible above the white of his neckcloth, and his clothing had to be a constant irritation. Still he hadn’t told her the whole of it, and he might never.
What he was saying became obvious between one beat of Jane’s heart and the next.
“You didn’t kill Robert Pike,” she said. “You never laid a hand on him.”
* * *
Quinn watched as Jane went on rearranging puzzle pieces. She sat very still, her hand cool in his.
She had married him thinking him capable of taking a human life. Perhaps that meant she was foolish—or brave—but it also signified the lengths she’d go to for the sake of her children.
“If you didn’t kill that man, then why…?”
Quinn was reluctant to explain, but he dared not leave her in ignorance. “Because somebody wanted me not only dead, but disgraced. A previously thriving bank was approaching ruin until this morning, and our fortunes are still far from secure.”
“The crumbs,” Jane said, making no sense whatsoever. “Ned, the women, Davies…marrying me. They were simple decency rather than gestures of atonement. I should have known.”
Quinn had no idea what mental flights drove those words. “Anybody associated with me is in danger, Jane, and I can’t keep you safe if you’re flitting all over Oxford Street.” The arrival of a child would only complicate the whole challenge, for babies were so very vulnerable.
Jane’s grip on Quinn’s hand became firmer. “I haven’t flitted anywhere for months. This is why you mentioned setting me aside. You think I should distance myself from you not because of the scandal, but because you have enemies.”
He did not want to set her aside. He’d reached that conclusion somewhere between the third and fourth hours after midnight, the previous five hours having been spent watching Jane thrash about in her sleep, get up almost hourly to make her way behind the privacy screen, then flop back to the bed and resume thrashing about.
She could not find rest, she could barely keep a meal down, she never complained, and she hadn’t asked to become a member of the Wentworth family. She could not possibly foresee the sort of evil that put a noose around an innocent man’s neck.
Quinn would never be much of a husband to her, but neither would he leave her to fend for herself. He’d worry about the child’s situation later, assuming the infant made a safe arrival into the world.
“You are innocent,” Jane said, her voice low and hard, “and I am furious.”
“Furious at me?”
“Of course not at you. You’ve done nothing wrong. What sort of vile, crawling, contemptible maggot accuses an innocent man of taking another’s life? The witnesses abetted this disgrace, as did the journalists, the—”
She winced, putting her free hand to her side.
“Jane, you must not become upset. Think of the child.”
“The child will never be safer. What about your poor family? They are reeling with how close they came to burying you. They’d be lost without you, and I daresay they are a bit lost with you. The authorities cannot turn a blind eye to such a perversion of justice.”
“The authorities were in on it, love. The judge was bought and paid for, the coroner, the witnesses, all of them. The warden told me not to even try to bribe my way to an escape and that appeals would be pointless. Whoever did this was determined and powerful.”
“And that means,” Jane said, “you are more in need of Althea’s concern than I am. I have a suggestion.” She rose, balancing with a hand on Quinn’s shoulder. She lowered herself to his lap, an awkward perch that required him to steady her with his arms about her.
“This is friendly, Mrs. Wentworth.” Awkward, but friendly.
She scooted, which was like a load shifting in a wheelbarrow. “You usually call me Jane. I have a suggestion.”
“While you never call me Quinn.”
“Quinn, you will please consider my suggestion before you roar and stomp about and splutter.”
Despite her awkward shape, she made a nice armful. “I haven’t roared or stomped for years, and I never splutter.”
“You will,” she said, patting his chest. “The child will make you splutter and curse—and laugh, I hope. My suggestion is that you consider allowing me to protect you.”
Allowing her…Quinn could get his arms around the lady, but his mind refused to wrap around her words.
“But that’s…You can’t…I don’t see…” He was spluttering. “Explain yourself.”
