Read Online The Clergyman's Daughter by Julia Jeffries - Free Book Online
Authors: Julia Jeffries
Tags: Romance
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life must go on too.”
“My life consists solely of my daughter,” Jessica said stiffly, and Raeburn’s expression hardened.
“As you wish,” he muttered, “but in that case, you had better resign yourself to returning to the Chase with me, for that is where my niece is going to be raised…with you or without you.”
Jessica trembled, hugging her arms convulsively. At last he had said it, had uttered aloud the implicit threat that had haunted her since her husband’s death, had made her choose a hard, tenuous life of obscure poverty over the undeniable comfort of the Raeburn estate. Her green eyes enormous, she whispered hoarsely, anxiously, “You mean to take my child from me, Graham?”
He knew a fleeting moment of shame at her obvious fear, but he did not allow his expression to waver. He declared steadily, “I have no wish to part you from your daughter, Jess, but in this I must be adamant, my brother’s child will be raised at Renard Chase in a manner befitting her station in life. Of course I should prefer that you live there too, but if you will not, then you will leave me no choice but to seek custody of her. I am already trustee for any moneys she stands to inherit from her father; it should be easy enough to have myself appointed her guardian as well….”
“But I am her mother,” Jessica asserted. “She needs me.” With mute appeal her hands reached up to touch the bodice of her dress. “Graham,” she pleaded hoarsely, “you cannot take Lottie from me. I…I still nurse her.”
His gray eyes flicked over her full bosom covered with somber black bombazine, and he felt a sudden urgent desire to see her swollen breasts bared as she gave suck to her child. He felt his body stir potently at the thought, and he realized with alarmingly jealous surprise that he wanted it to be his child too…. Aloud he said with a shrug, “I believe wet nurses are moderately easy to procure these days.”
Jessica paled, humiliated that she had abased herself. She squared her shoulders and faced him with hate-filled eyes. “I warn you, Graham, if you try to go through with this, I will oppose you.”
With affected unconcern he declared tiredly, “That’s scarcely anything new, Jess. You have always opposed me. You are the least governable woman it has ever been my misfortune….” He stood up deliberately, looming over her, large and intimidating, and when she shrank back instinctively, he softened his tone somewhat, a little ashamed of taking such easy advantage of his superior size and strength. He cajoled, “Be reasonable, my dear. You know it is hopeless to fight me in this; we are not evenly matched.”
“But I will fight you,” Jessica insisted doggedly, trying to garner her courage. “I will use every weapon at my disposal.”
“I’m sure you will,” he agreed quietly, and he sat down beside her again and took her icy fingers in his. He spoke conversationally, but his tone was sympathetic, almost—almost pitying. “If there is one thing that I have known about you from the first day we met, Jessica Foxe, it is that you are a fighter. Unfortunately for you, so am I. So…oppose me if you will, but in this matter I will not be swayed: you and your daughter—and your maid too, if you want her—are coming back with me to the place where you belong, the place where my brother’s child will be raised as she ought to be. As soon as I can hire a coach, we are all going home to Renard Chase.”
----
Chapter 3
The flat-columned facade of the house rose grim and forbidding under threatening skies as Jessica peered warily out the window of the coach, and with a sigh of resignation she pulled the leather curtain shut. She had dreaded this moment for days, ever since Raeburn had found her in Brighton. She had been so distraught at the prospect of returning to the estate that she had been only partially conscious of the time they had spent in London, time during which the earl had sent word to
“My life consists solely of my daughter,” Jessica said stiffly, and Raeburn’s expression hardened.
“As you wish,” he muttered, “but in that case, you had better resign yourself to returning to the Chase with me, for that is where my niece is going to be raised…with you or without you.”
Jessica trembled, hugging her arms convulsively. At last he had said it, had uttered aloud the implicit threat that had haunted her since her husband’s death, had made her choose a hard, tenuous life of obscure poverty over the undeniable comfort of the Raeburn estate. Her green eyes enormous, she whispered hoarsely, anxiously, “You mean to take my child from me, Graham?”
He knew a fleeting moment of shame at her obvious fear, but he did not allow his expression to waver. He declared steadily, “I have no wish to part you from your daughter, Jess, but in this I must be adamant, my brother’s child will be raised at Renard Chase in a manner befitting her station in life. Of course I should prefer that you live there too, but if you will not, then you will leave me no choice but to seek custody of her. I am already trustee for any moneys she stands to inherit from her father; it should be easy enough to have myself appointed her guardian as well….”
“But I am her mother,” Jessica asserted. “She needs me.” With mute appeal her hands reached up to touch the bodice of her dress. “Graham,” she pleaded hoarsely, “you cannot take Lottie from me. I…I still nurse her.”
His gray eyes flicked over her full bosom covered with somber black bombazine, and he felt a sudden urgent desire to see her swollen breasts bared as she gave suck to her child. He felt his body stir potently at the thought, and he realized with alarmingly jealous surprise that he wanted it to be his child too…. Aloud he said with a shrug, “I believe wet nurses are moderately easy to procure these days.”
Jessica paled, humiliated that she had abased herself. She squared her shoulders and faced him with hate-filled eyes. “I warn you, Graham, if you try to go through with this, I will oppose you.”
With affected unconcern he declared tiredly, “That’s scarcely anything new, Jess. You have always opposed me. You are the least governable woman it has ever been my misfortune….” He stood up deliberately, looming over her, large and intimidating, and when she shrank back instinctively, he softened his tone somewhat, a little ashamed of taking such easy advantage of his superior size and strength. He cajoled, “Be reasonable, my dear. You know it is hopeless to fight me in this; we are not evenly matched.”
“But I will fight you,” Jessica insisted doggedly, trying to garner her courage. “I will use every weapon at my disposal.”
“I’m sure you will,” he agreed quietly, and he sat down beside her again and took her icy fingers in his. He spoke conversationally, but his tone was sympathetic, almost—almost pitying. “If there is one thing that I have known about you from the first day we met, Jessica Foxe, it is that you are a fighter. Unfortunately for you, so am I. So…oppose me if you will, but in this matter I will not be swayed: you and your daughter—and your maid too, if you want her—are coming back with me to the place where you belong, the place where my brother’s child will be raised as she ought to be. As soon as I can hire a coach, we are all going home to Renard Chase.”
----
Chapter 3
The flat-columned facade of the house rose grim and forbidding under threatening skies as Jessica peered warily out the window of the coach, and with a sigh of resignation she pulled the leather curtain shut. She had dreaded this moment for days, ever since Raeburn had found her in Brighton. She had been so distraught at the prospect of returning to the estate that she had been only partially conscious of the time they had spent in London, time during which the earl had sent word to
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