Page 48 of To Dance with a Devil

Despite everything, Bonnie smiled. She rather liked Lady St Clair.

“Promise me.”

Bonnie nodded. “I promise.”

Her mother-in-law’s face softened, and she patted Bonnie’s hand. “There, there, child. It may seem a trite thing to say but all will be well, I assure you, if you only do as I have asked of you. You need the truth between you and your husband, not what you think is true. A marriage only works if both parties are honest and open, and you can rest assured I shall have a conversation with Jerome before he comes in here, so you can depend on his being honest with you too.”

She got to her feet and smoothed down her gown before giving Bonnie a warm smile.

“I shall send Jerome to you later, when you’ve had time to recover your senses, but for now I suggest you get some sleep. There’s nothing that won’t wait a few hours.”

With that, Lady St Clair swept from the room with a brisk rustle of silk and petticoats, and left a stunned Bonnie behind her.

***

Jerome dithered outside Bonnie’s bedroom door. Even though his mother had assured him Bonnie wanted to see him, he felt foolish and ridiculously nervous. It seemed his mama had sorted things out for him after all, which made him feel like an idiot, as if he was being managed, which was how—caught between his mother and Jasper—he often felt, and rebelled against. No matter the fact he was a grown man, Jasper still watched him like a hawk, as did his mother. The more they sighed and shook their heads at his behaviour, the more the devil in him wanted to make things worse. Not now. Now he wanted to make things right, to make Bonnie happy, and proud of him, and not to regret marrying him so deeply she wanted to leave. He wanted to see her, and so badly he felt the tug of longing as an ache in the pit of his belly. Yet he was afraid, afraid that his mother had only precipitated the end of everything. She had urged Bonnie to see him, to talk to him, but his mother had no way of knowing what she would say.

For all she knew, Bonnie would tell him it was over, and that she still wanted the annulment she’d been so adamant about before.

“For heaven’s sake, you bloody fool, get a hold of yourself,” he muttered, before pacing up and down a bit more and then grasping hold of the door handle.

It took such a surge of courage to propel him through the door that he flung it open rather more violently than he’d intended, and Bonnie gave a little shriek of alarm.

“Sorry,” he said, holding out both hands in a peaceable gesture. “Uh… it slipped,” he added, wishing he could go out again and pretend it never happened.

“You startled me,” Bonnie said, pressing her hand to her heart.

Jerome’s own heart clenched as his gaze settled on her lovely face. She made a charming picture, sitting up in bed and wearing a delightfully frivolous dressing gown that was all ruffles, lace, and pretty ribbons. The urge to go and ruffle the ruffles was hard to resist.

He looked around, wary in case her guard dog of a maid was about to leap out at him from a dark corner.

“Agnes isn’t here,” she said, guessing what he was thinking. “We won’t be disturbed.”

Jerome nodded and then tried a tentative smile. “How are you?”

“Fine,” she replied at once and then shook her head. “No, I’m sorry, that… that’s not entirely true and… I promised your mother I would tell you the truth.”

“So did I.”.

“I think she wants to tear her hair out,” Bonnie added, returning his smile which made his heart leap.

“I think she wants to murder us both,” Jerome retorted, which made her laugh, and his heart gave an odd sort of kick against his ribs this time.

“Won’t you come and sit down?”

Jerome nodded, uneasy with this terribly polite exchange. He drew up a chair beside the bed, not feeling confident enough to sit on the mattress yet, but angled it as close to her as he could get.

“So,” he asked. “How do you feel?”

Bonnie shook her head. “No,” she said, and something sad and vulnerable shone in her eyes. “You first. How do you feel?”

Jerome looked down, wishing she hadn’t asked him. He’d been ready to cry with her when they’d first learned the news. He’d wanted to hold her and weep with her, but she had turned away from him and now he was unsure of himself. Yet, he had promised to be honest.

“Jerome?”

Her soft voice brought him back, and he realised he was plucking nervously at the edge of the bedclothes. He forced his hands to still, placing them flat on his knees and took a deep breath.

“I feel wretched,” he said, his voice a little uneven. “I came to get you that day, you know. I’d spoken to Mother and, though she was furious with me for what I’d done, she forgave me for it, and she wanted to meet you. She seemed pleased for me, for us, and I was so excited for you to meet her and then… and then you were gone and the next thing I knew Mr Knight was carrying you through the door.”