Page 63 of Tamed By a Passionate Lady
Another stroke of luck, for James Townshend.
He had done what he had to do that day. An opportunity had presented itself, and it was irresistible. James, hovering near the edge of the cliff. They had been alone – there were no witnesses. Reuben knew that when his dead body was recovered from the rocks, everyone would assume that he had walked too close to the cliff and simply fallen.
Except that he hadn’t died. The man had survived.
At first he had been anxious when the sailors had brought James back to the house. The man was unconscious, and couldn’t tell tales, but there was no telling when he might awaken. But his mind was put at ease, when it finally happened. James Townshend had lost his memory of the last years of his life entirely. And with it, the knowledge that Reuben had pushed him off the edge of that cliff.
It seemed that he had got away with it.
But that relief soon soured. James was a new man after he awoke. He was enamoured with Adaline, delighting in her company. He assumed that their relationship had been a love match. To Reuben’s horror, James was wooing his wife, and of course, Adaline was responding. She had been begging for his attention for years, like a mouse looking for breadcrumbs, and it seemed that her dream was finally coming true. That her husband might be falling in love with her, at long last.
It was bad enough that James had survived at all. His plan had been to woo the widow – after a respectable period of mourning, of course – and finally make Adaline his own. It wasn’t just the lure of the delectable woman. If he married her, then Birkenhead Lodge would become his. He would get the beautiful house, and the beautiful wife. He would step into James Townshend’s life as smoothly as slipping on a glove.
Everything that James had, would be his. An irresistible proposition.
But all his dreams had started to implode the minute he had been found alive on those rocks. And they had started to slip further away, the minute that he had awakened.
It had been a dangerous thing to do, to put the portrait of Lydia in his desk drawer. In trying to jog James’ memory, there was the possibility that he would remember what had happened that day on the edge of the cliff. But his fury over what was happening here now overrode his caution and his self-preservation.
He gritted his teeth. It wasn’t fair.
He needed to reawaken James’ desire for Lydia. The man needed to remember that he had been hopelessly in love with her, and turn away from his wife once more. It had seemed a relatively simple thing to do; after all, James’ devotion to Lydia had been obsessive. And he thought he had been succeeding until James had turned on him angrily.
It seemed that the new James Townshend was not willing to let go of his newfound passion for his wife so easily.
He stared hard at the door again, feeling as if his eyes were boring into the wood. They still hadn’t arrived at breakfast. What were they doing?
His face reddened painfully. He knew that they were sharing a bedchamber again. He had eavesdropped, when James had asked Dr. Brown. He had been furious, but not surprised. James had become so enamoured of Adaline. But he felt powerless; there seemed to be nothing he could do to stem the tide of James’ rising affection.
His friend had never confided in him as to whether he had ever consummated his marriage to his wife, but it seemed unlikely. James was so blatantly disinterested in her, so caught up in his useless passion for Lydia, that he doubted the man even viewed Adaline in that way.
It would not have bothered many men he knew to make love to their wife while secretly yearning for another, but James had always been the monogamous type. He had never sowed his wild oats. He vividly remembered the night when he had taken James to the brothel, and he had walked out. When he had been courting Lydia, he had never even glanced at another attractive woman. He was hopelessly romantic, to the point of insanity.
He was quite confident that Adaline was still a maiden, even after two years of marriage. It was just another reason to despise the man. Who slept beside a beautiful woman like that, night after night, without touching her? It proved how bloodless James was, and bolstered his confidence that eventually Adaline would submit to him. How long could a passionate woman like her live without the pleasures of the flesh, after all?
He glared at the door. But now…now, he was not so sure what their relationship had become.
“Reuben?” Isabel’s voice drifted towards him, from far away. “Are you quite alright? You look so angry…”
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to turn to his sister, plastering a smile onto his face. It was important that she did not suspect how he was truly feeling. That she thought he was still the loyal friend of James Townshend, and simply admired his lovely wife in a vague way.
“I am quite well, dear Isabel,” he said quickly. “A passing headache, that is all.”
Isabel nodded, not looking convinced. She opened her mouth to speak again, but at that moment the door flew open.
James wheeled himself in, just ahead of Adaline. They were both flushed, and their eyes were sparkling. Reuben’s face tightened. He did not have to be a genius to recognise that slightly rumpled look that two people got when they had just spent a satisfactory time in bed together.
The portrait hadn’t worked. James was still as love-struck as he had been yesterday morning. He was back to square one.
They greeted the others at the table, before Adaline sat down. James wheeled himself to the table beside her. He briefly placed a hand over his wife’s as she rested it on the table. Adaline flushed, her cheeks turning a pretty pink. The moment between them only lasted a second before they both took their napkins, but it was enough to confirm what he had already suspected from the minute they had walked through the dining room door.
Mr. and Mrs. Townshend were in love. The sight of it was enough to bring up his newly digested breakfast.
“Reuben,” said James, gazing at him steadily. “I would like to speak to you, privately, after breakfast, if I may.”
***
Reuben gazed down at his friend in the wheelchair, following him into the parlour.
