Chapter 6.
It had been an incredible four months.
Jacob and Maryann’s first kiss, unexpected. One initiated by a more experienced Jacob. At a stroll in the gardens, during a ball held by his family.
When his lips claimed hers, she didn’t shift. Rather, she offered hesitant kisses of her own. Her skin flushed from the contact. Her lips, soft and ripe. All his to claim for the first time. He was her first kiss.
Their hearts, beating in unison. The excitement, undeniable.
They professed love that night, under the beautiful stars and Jacob promised marriage, once he discussed with his parents.
But grief came knocking on their door, one Monday morning at Hyde Park.
It had been a week since they professed their love, and Jacob was still simmering with the intoxication of young love. He found himself in a romantic mood, most of the time. Like an artist admiring the world under his paint brush.
He found the blue sky, a reminder of Maryann’s eyes. Strawberries tastes like her beautiful and juicy lips. And that morning, it wasn't any different. It was a beautiful morning to love MaryAnn.
The birds, tweeting nearby, as he took a leisurely stroll through the park with Jonathan and a couple of their friends; the then Lord Henry Hutson, current Duke of Cardogan and the then Mr Isaac Moss, current Viscount London.
Taking a turn around the park, they came in contact with Maryann, Miss Emilia Stewart and Lady Belinda Scot, daughter to the Duke of Winneveh.
Dressed in a yellow day dress and a matching pelisse, topped with a white small hat on her fine coiffure, Maryann looked radiant. And Jacob admired her, as they all talked.
The comfort of standing by Maryann, enough. Her heat was mesmerizing.
But it was then he noticed it.
Just an innocuous current between them, which should have been ignored.
However, Jacob’s critical eyes caught it. A soft gaze between his elder brother and Maryann. Tender, yet contained a disturbing weight.
He cast it aside as a lover’s jealousy; after all, Maryann’s beauty was renowned.
And yet, he should have listened to the warning bells.
Days followed and Jacob saw an attraction grow between them.
They danced to almost every music at balls. And Jacob helplessly watched their flirtation, as they took strolls around the ballroom.
He confronted Maryann. But Maryann dismissed his suspicions. Pacifying him.
He drowned himself in alcohol whenever they danced.
Maryann stopped welcoming his calls. And even ignored his letters.
Jacob groaned within himself and confessed his affections for Maryann to his mother. He pleaded she helped him persuade his father over a marriage alliance with Maryann.
The Duchess’ heart wrenched at her son’s agony. But he observed her doubt, even as she assured him of Maryann’s affections. Their attraction hadn’t gone unnoticed by both parents, yet they had thought it to be what it was, a mere friendship.
His father saw his cry as weakness on his part. And ordered him to put himself together.
In spite of his pain, neither of them discouraged Jonathan from pursuing Maryann.
More so, at his father’s command, they encouraged the match.
With Jonathan proposing to Maryann, Jacob fought his brother.
Their once peaceful brotherhood, disintegrated before the eyes of their parents.
Joseph tried to intervene, but was too young to have his words prevail.
Even in public, their animosity grew.
Desperate to salvage what little connection he still harbored with Maryann, Jacob stole into her home one night.
After she recovered from the shock of seeing him in her room, he tried dissuading her courtship with his elder brother. Pleading desperately.
His knees on the cold marble floor, his heart bare.
But in that moment under the dim light, he saw the raw truth in her eyes. Sensed her coldness.
She asked sent him away.
He staggered to his feet, his eyes lingering on her, as she emotionlessly confessed her acceptance of his brother.
A desirable match, she had put it.
Betrayed by his own body, Jacob’s eyes blurred with tears, as she spoke. Her next words carrying the air of betrayal, that crushed him forever.
‘No one would want a second son over an heir apparent to a dukedom, Jacob.’
Words that awakened him.
And even after the announcement of Maryann’s engagement to Jonathan, those words continued to ring.
A reminder of an unbendable truth.
That he was nothing but a spare. A thorn. A mistake.
The entire ton abuzz with news of the impending nuptials, Jacob voyaged to Portugal with his broken heart. His mother’s birth home.
Betrayed, Jacob took the time to nurse his broken heart.
The sting, unbearable. The, unforgivable.
Distracted by his mother’s cousins, Jacob found a reason to live again.
Found solace in their frivolities.
Portuguese nobles that taught him another side of life. Gaiety and freedom. Rather than falsehood and stiffness that had surrounded him before.
He embraced laxity and subsequently healed.
He eventually welcomed letters from his younger brother and his mother. His mother’s letters confirming his brother’s eventual marriage to Maryann and urging reconciliation.
While Joseph’s letters carefully avoided the topic.
Months after he returned from his first business voyage with his mother’s cousin, Alfonso Altera, Count of Fatima; he finally responded to his mother’s missives.
His heart finally peaceful.
Five years passed, before Jacob’s feet touched English soil again.
He returned more exposed. A frightening air about him.
Wealthy beyond comprehension, he stood tall.
His father admired him and his mother adored him.
His younger brother elated, joining Jacob in his business.
Preferring to leave matters peaceful, Jacob had painstakingly avoided Jonathan and MaryAnn. Preparing his heart for the unavoidable encounter.
That encounter arrived the morning Jonathan visited his newly acquired bachelor lodgings.
An unexpected visit, three weeks after Jacob’s return. A quick visit, but the undercurrent of remorse and yearning was heavy.
Jonathan came that morning to announce his departure to join the war against Napoleon.
A declaration, which hadn’t sat well with Jacob.
Jonathan's final words were for Jacob to take care of his responsibilities while he was away.
Words which Jacob swore should never have been said.
And even now, the guilt in his heart at not forgiving Jonathan, 13 years ago still eats him.
His heart still twists.
A sharp knock on the carriage door, jolts him to the present.
“Luke!” Jacob calls, curtly.
“Your Grace, we’ve arrived the docks!”