Free The Devil Claims a Wife by Helen Dickson Page B

husband—but she was also the daughter of a businessman who had taken her with him to the London markets, where every merchant’s worth was measured in gossip. She knew how easily people could be destroyed by rumour.
    But there would be no shame, for she had no intention of giving in to Guy St Edmond’s demands. Feeling a constriction in her throat, she raised her head, resplendent with a rage which made her eyes flash.
    ‘You are mistaken. I have no intention of becoming the Earl of Sinnington’s mistress. I have nothing further to say to you, Richard, except I am sorry things have turned out this way.’
    ‘Sorry? You are
sorry
?’
    ‘Yes—yes, I am. It was not my intention to hurt you, but I have made up my mind. Andnow I think you should go,’ she said calmly, but firmly.
    Jane expected further argument and was surprised when he turned on his heel and left. She was left shaken by the encounter, but she was glad it was over and she could look to a future without him.
    Jane had waited for her parents to come home, her heart filled with dread in anticipation of the condemnation she would ultimately receive from her father. They returned later than expected. She was walking in her favourite part of the garden where the river meandered its way through the trees. When her mother came to join her, she looked at her anxiously, drawing her down on to a bench beside her.
    ‘What is it, Mother? Are you feeling unwell? You are very pale.’
    ‘We—your father and I—have just seen Richard. He told us he had called on you—and that you have decided to call off the betrothal. He said that you no longer wish to marry him. Jane, tell me it is not true, that it is a mistake.’
    Jane hung her head for a moment, then looked at her, unable to hide the truth from her mother’s questing, unhappy eyes. ‘I can’t. It’s true. I have changed my mind. Forgive me,Mother, but I cannot marry him. I will not be beholden to a man I cannot honour.’
    ‘But—why? None of this makes sense. Everything is in readiness for your betrothal. Your … father has taken it very badly. He … is extremely angered by your actions. This is not a good time for him. Things are bad—they couldn’t be worse.’
    ‘I know and I am sorry. Truly I am. I am aware of how much you will suffer because of this, but I cannot marry him.’
    ‘The consequences of your decision will be immediate and unavoidable,’ her mother said quietly. ‘John Aniston will be bound to distance himself from your father. At the guild meetings he will be met with hostility from the other members, which will affect him deeply. They will be speculative, curious and even grimly amused, as if his woes serve only to mark another tragedy that one can relate to the next gossip avid for another’s misery.’
    ‘I sincerely hope it won’t be like that,’ Jane said, wishing she could ease her mother’s anxiety.
    Margaret heaved a pensive sigh. ‘The fact that your father is facing ruin will soon be known to all. Without the occurrence of somemiracle, there is nothing we can do to ease our present unfortunate state.’
    A lump formed in Jane’s throat and she felt as if she would never swallow again and her eyes, so strangely dry one moment, stung painfully the next. ‘I understand how troubled you are, Mother,’ Jane said in a quiet voice, no less distressed as she sought to find some ray of hope in a painfully dark future. ‘I truly wish there was something I could do to alter our present unfortunate state.’
    She looked up when her father entered the garden and came to join them. His lips were pursed, his eyes angry and accusing, and for the next half-hour Jane listened to his angry tirade, telling her over and over again that she was a wretched girl, ungrateful and a fool.
    Jane sighed as she left his presence. He did not profess concern for her well-being and happiness at all. By now she should expect nothing less.
    And then the worst, the very worst, happened.