Page 48 of Tamed By a Passionate Lady
He smiled sourly. That exotic beauty had always been quite lost on his dear friend, James. Somehow, his friend had never managed to see what was just beneath his nose. It had been no exaggeration to say that he had woefully neglected her. In some ways, it had been even worse than that: it was as if James had existed in his own private dream world, and he simply did not see Adaline at all. Why he had ever agreed to marry her in the first place was beyond him.
His smile dropped abruptly. He knew the reason why James had agreed to it. It was all tied in with the other woman, of course, as everything was with his friend. It didn’t seem that James had a will of his own anymore, once she had got to him. He had become like some kind of slave to her, even when she was no longer a part of his life, and there was no hope that she would be again.
But it wasn’t like that anymore, since the accident. Things had changed, in many ways.
He gazed back out of the window. It was inexplicable, but it seemed that along with his memory loss, James was suddenly developing feelings for Adaline. Reuben had noticed, almost from the moment that his friend had regained consciousness, that James was hyper aware when she was in the room, constantly following her with his eyes. He was evenflirtingwith her, for God’s sake, as if he was courting her, like a lovestruck teenager.
The cold, ugly finger of jealousy suddenly jabbed at him, viciously. Adaline was lapping it up, of course, like a neglected puppy whose master had suddenly decided to throw a bone. He had noticed her blushes, the demure dropping of her eyes, the way that she leaned towards him eagerly. She finally had a husband who noticed her, as a woman.
It was not to be borne.
Reuben’s lips tightened. He had painstakingly been wooing her prior to the accident, and he had been confident that he would eventually make her his own. He sensed the passion simmering beneath the respectable exterior of the loving wife, and he longed to plumb it.
He was almost certain that she was still a maiden, that James had never had the courage or the interest to deflower her. It would only take one time to masterfully make love to her, and she would be enslaved to him forever.
But now, it was all topsy turvy. Now, James seemed to sincerely believe that he had always been in love with his wife, and just needed to re-discover their connection. Even worse than that, it seemed like James was genuinely falling in love with her.
It had to stop.
The carriage ascended higher, almost to the top of the cliff. He spied the house, in the near distance. They were almost there.
He smiled grimly. James needed to be reminded, in the most devious of ways, that he had never loved his wife. There was danger in jogging his memory, but there were also benefits. For as soon as he remembered that he had never been a loving husband to her, and that he indeed was in love with someone else, then everything would shift and change, once again, rather like a kaleidoscope.
He had made the first step, towards that. Even now, he thought that he might walk into Birkenhead Lodge and see that things were different between them.
And then, he would make his move, back towards Adaline.
She would be doubly hurt at her husband’s rejection of her, the second time around. It might be just enough to catapult her into his arms, at long last. For how loyal could a woman be towards a husband who had never loved her, and now never would?
He had no compunction about it, no moral qualms. James would only be remembering the truth, after all. And if he desired to stay in that dream world he had inhabited, clinging to the memory of his lost love, then who was he to deny him?
***
Adaline gazed out of the parlour window, watching the carriage pull up. Reuben and Isabel descended, making their way towards the house.
Her heart was in her mouth, as it always was, seeing him make his way into her home. Reuben Montgomery rarely left Birkenhead Lodge these days, and she was always surprised how instantly the mood of the house lightened when he did. She felt as if she were able to breathe fully, in a way that she never could when he was in residence.
Isabel didn’t linger. The young woman walked swiftly into the house, but Reuben swaggered slowly, his eyes raking over the property in an almost proprietorial way. Almost as if he was taking an inventory of it. His arrogance always amazed her, as did his confidence.
She supposed she should count her blessings. Her husband’s friend had backed off in his pursuit of her considerably since James’ accident. Sometimes she felt his eyes lingering on her, but he didn’t approach her when she was alone with his forward and presumptive comments. It hardly seemed possible but it seemed that Reuben Montgomerydidhave a conscience, at least about pursuing her while his friend was recovering from a grievous injury.
But that didn’t make his presence any more pleasant.
She knew that James had picked up on her attitude to him, even though she had taken pains to hide it. That day, weeks ago, when she had talked to Reuben coldly at the breakfast table, for instance. But she had tried harder since then. The last thing that James needed, at this moment, was added worry about how she was getting along with his best friend.
She plastered a smile onto her face. They would be in the house at any moment, and would surely make their way to the parlour in anticipation of afternoon tea. They had missed luncheon and would probably need refreshment.
The door opened, and Isabel walked in, smiling widely. Adaline gazed at her fondly. It seemed remarkable, but the young woman seemed to be blossoming lately. The waxen tone to her skin was gone, and there was faint colour in her cheeks now. And her pale blue eyes were sparkling.
“My dear,” said Adaline, walking towards the tea pot, and pouring a cup for her. “How was your day in Hemsworth?”
Isabel took the cup gratefully, and they sat down, opposite each other. Adaline couldn’t help her eyes shifting towards the door every now and then, tensely anticipating when the young woman’s brother would come into the room.
“It was perfectly agreeable,” replied Isabel, sipping her tea. “We had morning tea at one of the tearooms there, then meandered around the village for a while.” She put down her cup. “We then visited Dr. Brown’s surgery. I have wanted to have an examination for a while, but with the focus on James, I did not think it appropriate. However, I thought that I would seize the chance while I was in the village, and lo and behold, he was there.” Her cheeks became pinker as she spoke, shining like two red dots.
Adaline suppressed a smile. She knew now why Isabel had been acting so oddly whenever Dr. Brown was here. The young woman liked him, in that certain way. And she had discerned that Dr. Brown was not averse to chatting to the young woman, either.
It was lovely to watch, thought Adaline. Isabel had been so preoccupied with her illness, and had little diversion in such a remote location. But now, she was indeed blossoming, and more importantly, looking towards a possible future. It was no longer about whether she would live, or how she would live, but rather, what she might be able to live for.
