Chapter 11
London, 1820…
"You think she was raped?" Nadine asked softly, tightening her silk robe around her waist as she crossed the study to look out the window.
"Nadine!" Johnny scolded, shaking his head as he slumped over his desk. "That's an awful thing to-"
"Well, clearly Jason thinks something of the sort happened," she interrupted, glaring pointedly at her husband. "Why else would he show up at our home in the middle of the night?"
"Still, Nadine, it's just…"
"Awful," she agreed, lifting her eyes to Jason, who'd been sitting in the oversized armchair since the butler had shown him to the study.
He felt terrible for showing up in the middle of the night as he came down from a drunken stupor, but he honestly didn't know where else to go. "What do I do?" he asked quietly, tapping his fingers on the chair arms.
Johnny sighed heavily, his eyes darkening as he pinched the flame of one of the various candles lit in the room. "Jason, you don't even know-"
"What do I do?" he asked again, louder this time, his eyes staring at Nadine intently.
The petite blonde placed a hand on her husband's shoulder as if to ease his own frustrations in some way. Instantly, he relaxed, leaning back in his chair and slipping his hand over hers. He gently tugged it, and she took the hint and lowered herself onto his knee.
"Jason," she whispered, her wet cheeks shining in the candlelight, "the only thing you can do is be there. If she was...if she was raped, you can't fix it for her. You can't change what happened, and you can't make it go away."
Johnny slipped his arms around her waist, resting his cheek against her back. She closed her eyes, letting out a shaky breath, and Jason knew she was reliving more of her own past than she wanted to.
"I shouldn't have come," Jason apologized, pushing himself up from the chair. "It's late, and this was entirely my fault. I grabbed her…was rude to her and…"
"It's not your fault," Nadine said, getting up from Johnny's lap and walking around the desk. "You didn't do this to her, and you can't help that the slightest touch or a simple word can take her to that place."
"I should have dealt with it on my own. I shouldn't have asked you…"
"You were there, Jason," she reminded him, reaching out to take his hand. "You know what it was like for me…but it won't be the same for her." She gently squeezed his hand before letting it go to wipe the tears from her cheeks. "I can't imagine how she feels. She was alone for months and months in that house with no one to talk to, and the entire time she's been carrying this all alone."
Jason's stomach churned at her words and the possibilities behind them. There was no doubt that Elizabeth had been attacked in some way; be it rape or a beating, and that she had tried to defend herself, which clearly led the way to Lucky's murder. She was so small, frail even, and he couldn't imagine that she had been the one to kill this man. Had Jeffrey come across this incident and reacted without thinking? Had he murdered in the name of saving his daughter?
Not that Jason blamed Jeffrey; Lucky Spencer was fortunate that he was dead or else Jason would be hunting him down instead of standing in Johnny's study.
"Do you think that's why she sent everyone away?" Jason asked, scratching his eyebrow with a shaky hand.
"Probably," she shrugged, not wanting to speak for Elizabeth completely since she didn't know what had happened. "I doubt that anyone actually knows what happened or else the police would have learned something in their investigation. A house staff hears things; every whisper through the walls and they eventually learn your secrets, so maybe she thought it was best to get rid of them before it was too late."
Jason nodded understandingly. He didn't keep a staff at his home in Italy for similar reasons. It was difficult to find people you could trust to look after your home and your wellbeing, especially when they could easily sell your secrets and truths for the right amount of money.
"This is why Lucky died, isn't it?" Johnny asked, getting up from his desk. "The only question is was it Jeffrey or Eliza-"
"Don't," Jason hissed, shaking his head firmly.
He was having plenty of thoughts on his own. The last thing he needed was for Johnny to provoke them even further. Besides, nothing mattered right now except helping Elizabeth and making whatever had happened okay for her.
"I need…I need to talk to her," he said slowly, knowing that when he returned home, her door would be shut, making it difficult.
"You need to be patient or else you'll only upset her more," Nadine warned wearily, wringing her hands as she spoke. "I can't explain it, Jason; w. What it feels like or how it haunts you, but if he did something to her…" She swallowed hard, and Johnny stepped up beside her, sliding his arm around her waist. "You can't push her to talk to you about it. You shouldn't even ask. All she needs to know is that you're there, that you aren't going to go anywhere, and that she can trust you with this."
She nibbled her lip as she curled against her husband, resting her head against his chest. "And maybe…you should get her out of that house."
"Leave London?" he asked seriously.
No wonder Jeffrey had been so persistent about getting her out of London and to a place where she could find some sort of happiness. Everything in that house had to remind her of that night. He had no idea how she'd stayed there all alone for months on end. It was enough to drive a person mad.
"Not leave, but move. I know it's the last thing you want to do, but you have the estate in the countryside, not far from here," Johnny replied, running his hand up and down his wife's back as if to soothe her own demons.
"You'd be close to us, and maybe I could talk to her," Nadine murmured, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I don't think about what happened to me often, and I have you and Johnny to thank for that. You both were so good to me; so gentle and patient after you found me, and…I think that is the only reason I got through it. When I felt like so much had been taken, you showed me that I had a life to live and that I had good friends to share it withwho would be in it."
"Elizabeth needs that," Jason agreed, taking a deep breath.
"She trusts you," she continued, giving him a weak smile. "She cares about you the best way that she knows how, and she wants to make you happy, Jason. I know that you could care less about any of that, and it's ruining your persistency to be alone, but you're married now. You have a wife who needs her husband, so you have to change."
With a heavy sigh, Jason gripped the railing that lined the staircase in the foyer and slowly started upward, his heart heavy and tight in his chest. Nadine's advice had been simple; to go to Elizabeth, to be patient and kind, but after how he'd acted earlier, he doubted his wife would even want him near her. He wasn't used to biting his tongue or worrying how forceful he came off to the people around him. Most knew the type of man he was, choosing to either get out of the way or be knocked out of it, but Elizabeth was different.
She'd demanded her presence be known from the moment they met, and she'd all but refused to get out of his way when he clearly wanted her to. He should have found it admirable instead of annoying, and now because of how angry he'd gotten over her refusal to give into him about her father's case, and in general when it came to being some quiet submissive wife.
Sucking in a breath, he neared the top of the stairs, his eyes going instantly to her door. He was surprised to find it open halfway and the soft glow of a candle flickering from within her room. The floorboards creaked beneath his feet as he approached her door, and he could hear the movementsprings of her mattress as she shifted in her bed. He liked to think of the door as an invitation, a chance to reconcile, and maybe even discuss what had happened that evening.
"Elizabeth," he whispered, taken back by the slight tremor in his voice. The possibility of rejection unnerved him more than he liked to admit. "Elizabeth?"
He heard the rustlesprings of her mattress again, followed by the wrinkling of her covers. "Come…come in," she called out softly, her voice ragged.
He placed his palm against the door and eased it opened to find her still in bed, her knees curled to her chest as she sat against the headboard, her hair lying in loose, damp curls on her shoulders. His hands gripped the door and started to close it, but stopped, only to continue when she nodded to let him know it was alright.
"Are you…?" The question fell dead on his lips, not exactly sure how to ask if she was okay or what he could do or if that was even what he was supposed to do.
"Forgive me for before," she murmured, raking a hand nervously through her hair. "I know – I know you're thinking all kinds of things, making assumptions, and you should know that you're probably wrong."
"Am I?" he asked, noticing the heavy frown on her lips as he approached the side of her bed.
"I know what you think," she replied, pressing her cheek against her knee as she shifted her eyes to his. "About the murder…my father…why it happened…"
"I think – I think he – Lucky hurt you," he said slowly, nodding towards the bed. "May I?" She nodded, and he sat down hesitantly as if one wrong move would stop her from letting him in. "Did he…hurt you?"
Her face hardened, her mouth tightening as her eyes turned cold, and she dropped her gaze to her bed sheets. "Yes," she whispered, her wet cheeks glistening in the candlelight. He instantly thought of Nadine and how painful it had been for her to recall something that had happened so long ago. "But he didn't…he didn't…he tried to – to ra…"
"It's okay," Jason muttered, his hand snaking across the bed to touch her, stopping short of her when he realized that may not be what she wanted.
She dried her cheeks against her knees, sighing heavily. "I don't…I don't think I want to talk about this."
"You don't have to," he said seriously, smoothing his hand across the sheet, and fighting the urge to reach out and pull her into his arms.
She tipped her head towards him, looking at him with wide, blue eyes as if she couldn't believe he wasn't pressuring her. "But…"
"Only if you want to," he murmured, hating to see her so distraught and uncomfortable. This was worse than the night on the stairs in front of the jail. It was deeper, something he couldn't reach and promise to fix.
"I don't want…I don't want you to look at me differently," she confessed, rubbing her hands exhaustedly over her face. "My father…he was disappointed, I think – I know with how things happened. Of course, no one wants to think that a man would do something so awful just as they don't want to think their daughter had any role in it either."
"This wasn't your fault, Elizabeth," Jason said, scooting across the bed so that they were inches apart.
He hated that she not only was she carrying this burden, but that she was faulting herself for what had happened. Lucky had hurt her, had at least attempted to rape her, and she was blaming herself. And there was no way in hell that Jeffrey Webber looked down on his daughter for what had happened. As his actions had proven, he loved Elizabeth more than anything and would do whatever it took to protect her.
"You don't understand," she argued, her eyes filling with tears. "I think about my father's face as reality set in, and I knoew that I failed him in someway."
"Elizabeth…"
"I just don't want you to look at me that way," she said, letting out a shaky breath. "I know you didn't ask for any of this – to marry me and my inabilities and my secrets, and I can't stand-"
"Please, don't do this," he interrupted, placing his hand over hers. "I married you, which means I married your inabilities and your secrets, and I came into this knowing they existed. What happened to you doesn't change the woman that I see or how I feel. I only wish that I could protect you…that I could change what happened…or that I'd been here to save you."
She shook her head, cradling her face in her hands. "You don't understand, Jason. You're not hearing me and what I'm saying. I shouldn't have married you or gotten you into this and-"
"Elizabeth," he cut in, pulling her hands from her face and gently cradling themit in his palms. Her skin was like warm and velvety beneath his touch. He swiped his thumbs over her cheeks as he forced her to look him in the eye. "I think you know by now that I don't do anything I'm not willing to do. If I didn't want to marry you, I wouldn't have. I could have stayed in Italy and-"
"You did this for my father."
"In the beginning, yes, but now…" He took a deep breath, not sure if he could honestly tell her how he felt, but knowingew she needed to hear it. "I didn't really know you before I came to London, and I didn't want to know you when I got here, but now…you're my wife, Elizabeth, and you – you come first."
Her eyes fluttered closed at his words, and she nuzzled his palms with her face, letting out a content sigh. "Please don't lie to make me feel better."
"I'm not," he replied, swallowing hard when her eyes snapped open and locked on hisers. "I've neglected you for your father's case."
"You're only doing what we both want," she murmured, placing her hands over his and pulling them into her lap as she stretched her legs out on her bed. "All of this is about my father, and when you arrived, I think I was so relieved because I didn't have to be alone anymore. Only you didn't want my companionship or even a mindless romance. You only wanted to free my father, and for some silly reason, part of me was angry with you for that."
So much of her confession made sense; forced into solitary confinement by both her city and herself and desperate for some kind of connection. He was just the first person to come along and not look at her and see the murder and her father's arrest, but yet he'd also failed to really see her.
There had been signs since his arrival; her nervous demeanor when she'd first met him, the way she trembled when he stepped too close, and how frustrated she was when he didn't comply with how she wanted things to be. She needed the control as much as he did; both of them desperate to ease their fears. She didn't want to submit to a man because of what happened with Lucky and her father, and he didn't want to submit to a woman because that meant admitting he'd fallen in a way he wasn't prepared for.
"I shouldn't have been so harsh with you all the time," she continued, shifting her hands so that they linked with his. "I know it probably sounds ridiculous, but I think I wanted you to want me because it made what happened less painful. It was like he took something – something that I was so sure everyone could see, but when you looked at me, I didn't feel that way. And I needed to know that someone could want me after that – after being touched and kissed by another man."
"And when you kissed me," she finished, gently squeezing his hands, "I knew that was what it was supposed to feel like, which was so terrifying and enlightening at the same time."
He swallowed hard, remembering how soft her lips felt againstto his and the comfort that came with the warmth of her mouth. It was exactly what a kiss, one that mattered and stirred a man to his core, was supposed to feel like, and it was something he'd never felt before.
"You make me nervous, Elizabeth," he admitted, shaking his head at his confession. "You're everything I've tried to avoid in my life; true beauty and grace, so pure and angelic. This marriage was my way of forcing you to submit. I didn't want a life-long commitment or a wife that was the center of my world, and honestly, I'm still not sure if I do."
She stirred slightly at his words, giving him a faint smile as if she understood and wasn't even surprised by his honesty.
"But I do know that what happened with you – what he did – whatever it was when he touched you and kissed you," he continued, swallowing hard, "it didn't take anything away from the woman you are, Elizabeth. It didn't make you less of a woman or less pure in any way, and only a fool would have the nerve to think something like that."
"I just want to feel whole again," she said, shifting against the headboard, her hands tightening around his. "I want to feel safe and not have to worry about what will happen tomorrow. I'm exhausted with my life, Jason. I don't want to have any of it anymore."
She reminded him so much of Nadine; her lack of will and desire to fight, and that made him all the more determined to convince her to hold on.
"What if we left?" he asked seriously.
"London?" she asked confused.
"I have an estate in the countryside. It's not far from Johnny and Nadine, but if you want to leave London, we can," he replied, not caring where they went. He just wanted this to go away.
"My father's case," she reminded him, nodding slowly as if to convince herself that this was the right thing to do. "But the countryside…I'm sure it's beautiful."
"I haven't been there in years," he shrugged, giving her a smile.
"I always loved it when I was a child. My grandmother lived outside the city, and I would spend the summers there," she replied, her tension easing away into nothing. He could practically feel it rolling off her body and turning into something else – excitement over the possibility of tomorrow.
"We could leave soon – a couple of days or tomorrow even," he urged, knowing from the way her eyes lit up that Nadine was right – getting Elizabeth out of this house was for the best.
She chewed her lip, her hands clutching his tightly as she closed her eyes. He could practically see her making a list as to why this was alright and why it wasn't. "I…I would like to go," she agreed, forcing a tiny grin at him. "I think it would be nice to get away…if only for a while."
"I'll have the arrangements started immediately," he said, loosening his hands from hers to smooth the blanket out over her. "Will you be able to get some rest now?"
She nodded apprehensively, fisting the covers in her palms. "Do you…do you think you could stay?" she asked, shifting uncomfortably as she lowered herself beneath the blankets. "Just until I fall asleep?"
"Of course," he replied, suddenly feeling nervous when she scooted across the bed, offering him the space beside her.
Standing up, he shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the bedpost before sitting down beside her and settling against the headboard. She slid closer, stopping when she neared his arm, and it was only when he slid it around her that she curled into his side, resting her head on his shoulder. Her damp hair tickled his chin, and he couldn't help but nuzzle against her curls, taking in her sweet smell.
"I'm sorry about my hair," she muttered, gently placing her hand on his chest. "I thought a bath...would relax me."
"I don't mind," he replied, smoothing his hand down her back. "Smells nice."
"Thank you for understanding, Jason," she whispered, closing her eyes. "For understanding everything."
"Just get some rest," he sighed, knowing there was still so much he'd yet to find out, but that nothing mattered more than this. "You don't have to worry anymore."