Page 54 of A Devilish Element
“You are a dear,” Jane replied mutinously, clearly unwilling to believe herself anything other than monstrously disfigured. “But perhaps it is only that you are so good yourself that you cannot discern such things in others. Linfield sees it. I cannot rid myself of his disgust. It clings to me. He was appalled by every aspect of my person. He would not look at my breasts, was utterly horrified that I was in anyway eager for the coupling.”
“Yet, he is no saint to judge you.”
“Things are different for men.”
“Only because we allow them to be. I am quite certain nothing you have done prompted his revulsion, rather some flaw of his.”
Jane remained unpersuaded, shaking her head so vigorously she was sure to give herself a headache. “I cannot erase his disgust from my mind. Truly, I think he detests me.”
Eliza resorted to biting her lip. Based on what she had witnessed, it was difficult to refute that notion. He’d shown the least concern of any of them over Jane’s safety and had been all too eager to have Bell dose her with laudanum.
“To think, I intended to wait naked for him in his bed. What madness persuaded me that was the best course of action? I can see now it would have been utter folly. It is no wonder that Lady Cedarton appeared to thwart me. I’m not a worthy mistress of this house.”
“Jane, you are being overdramatic. I’m certain that there’s a plain explanation for what you saw, which I’m quite certain was no phantasm. It seems rather there is someone here who means you ill.”
This surprisingly stilled Jane’s tears. “Whatever do you mean?”
“That you are being targeted. The sightings, the fire… Someone means to scare you out of your wits, or worse.”
“But why? Unless they know.” She pressed her hand to her stomach. “How could they? I’ve told no one besides you, and I’ve taken every care to disguise it. Besides, ’tis not as if anyone else knows that he hasn’t performed his duty. Whoever heard of a man reluctant to bed his bride?”
“Someone must know. A maid. Your lover.”
Jane shook her head even more vigorously. “I’ve bled. I’ve made sure of it. Mrs Honeyfield has even commented on it, since it’s been her job to see to sending out the laundry until we can take on more servants. I think she meant to be kind. ’Tis everyone’s assumption that a newlywed woman is consumed with the task of producing a brood. As for him… He would not tell anyone. It would lessen his standing to admit he’d sired a by-blow. Besides, I doubt he even knows that I am wed.”
“Well, someone means you harm, and if it isn’t to do with your—” Eliza inclined her head towards Jane’s midriff. “Then what is behind it?”
“Have you a theory?” Jane asked, clasping her hands into her lap, precisely as she’d done when they’d been schoolgirls together at the start of whatever philosophising Eliza had been about to embark on.
“I don’t know that you’re taking this entirely seriously. Jane, you were almost burned alive, and you are the only one besides the maid who left who has seen the ghost.”
“It’s not that I mean to be flippant, it’s just all so preposterous, it’s difficult to be serious. And Eliza, we are so pitifully few here, do you really mean to imply that one of my guests wishes for my death? Whatever motive do you prescribe them?”
That was the part that truly had her stumped. The Cluetts were gossips, but not malicious as such. Although she had witnessed that exchange between George and Lord Linfield in the library. Perhaps if she could get a glimpse of that paper they’d fought over, it might shed some light, though she hardly saw how. Jane’s death wouldn’t benefit them in any case. As for the rest of their party, Doctor Bell and Jem were both employed by Lord Linfield. She trusted Jem implicitly, and Bell had no obvious motive. As for Linfield himself…did he truly despise his wife that much? What would her death possibly gain him? Jane’s possessions, her very body were already his to do with as he pleased.
“Perhaps he has a mistress,” Jane mused.
“Here? Right now, at Cedarton? Wherever do you imagine he’s hiding her?”
“Oh, you! I was only speculating aloud. However, would it not explain so much? What’s not to say the ghost I saw was in fact his mistress?”
“I would say that this is not a novel by Mrs Radcliffe.” Although to be fair, it was becoming almost as far-fetched as one.
“And yet you cannot entirely dismiss the notion. I was almost burned to death in my own bed while drugged into an opium stupor, we are entirely isolated by the fog, and you at least believe my husband a villain.”
“I think your mind’s addled by the ludicrous dose of opiates Bell gave you,” Eliza huffed. “I never once said he was a villain.”
“But he is your primary suspect, or is it Bell? I’m confused. Perhaps they’re in coalition?”
“Jane, I neither said nor implied—”
Her friend’s impish smile lit up her whole face. “You didn’t not say it, either. Nor do you entirely deny the possibility.”
“It is true that Bell left breakfast with the express intention of going straight up to see you, but he was not here whence I arrived.” She would have to check with Edith and Mrs Honeyfield to see if he had been and gone. “I suppose that might be construed as suspicious.”
“Perhaps he required something from his rooms first?”
“No—I would have seen him. I went down there right after he left to come up to you to make Mrs Honeyfield the remedy I’d promised her.”
