What a Widow Wants

by Jenna Jaxon

  “Sea bathing and . . . and other things of no consequence. For God’s sake, don’t you do the same thing.” She stabbed the lobster as though she were Neptune with his trident and popped it into her mouth. If she could just eat in peace and spend this last evening with Matthew in relative harmony, she’d be grateful.

  “Well I hope you don’t mind if we do talk some. I suppose I shall not see you again for some time.” A shadow flitted over his handsome face and Fanny felt rather than heard his sigh. She would miss him as well.

  “Do not forget, we will soon be in company together again. Lady Cavendish’s house party in early August? You did receive her invitation, didn’t you?”

  “I did indeed.” His visage lightened and he bit into a buttered roll. “I am in great anticipation.” He waggled his brows, making her giggle. “Do we dare continue on as we have here?”

  “Of course we do. The whole reason for the weekend is for us widows to flirt and dally with the dashing men of our choice.” She arched her neck and smiled seductively at him.

  “And I am your choice?” He laid his fork down, suddenly all seriousness.

  “You doubt it? After these past weeks?” Did he truly have no faith in her feelings for him? Had she made him believe her regard shallow? Or had he simply not realized how deep that regard ran?

  “Then why don’t you simply marry me, Fanny?” The thick, dark blows swept down in a deep V. “We would need not part at all.”

  “Matthew.” Lord, would he never cease proposing to her?

  “Fanny, you must see the sense of it.” He tossed his napkin onto the table.

  Her appetite, so robust moments ago, had fled. “Nothing has changed since my last refusal.”

  “I think it has, my dear.” He grasped her hand, his warm clasp filling her with excitement despite her resolve. “There is now every possibility you carry my child.”

  She tried to slip her hand from his, but he held on tightly.

  “Can you deny it?” He had lowered his voice, and she glanced around, but no one else had come into the refreshment room. They were virtually alone.

  “Yes, I can deny it.”

  “What?” His startled look sent a pang of remorse through her, for he looked hurt of all things.

  Heat rose to her cheeks yet another time tonight. Still, after the intimacies she’d shared with this man, what was one more? “You have not seen me these past several days, I think? Not since Monday?”

  “No. When I called I was told you were resting. And your note said you had a megrim.” Concerned lines deepened on his face and his grip on her hand tightened. “Are you truly ill, Fanny?”

  Oh, Lord. “No, my dear. I am as well as can be. However,” even though no one else was there to hear, she lowered her voice to a whisper and he leaned close, “I had my courses.”

  Matthew jerked back, a faint pink staining his cheeks. “I didn’t think about . . .”

  “Men usually don’t.” Fanny had been relieved when they had started. She’d been so carried away with their passion she hadn’t thought about the possible consequences until afterward and then it had simply been a matter of wait and see. This time they had been lucky. She must acquire the seeds she’d used before. They had proven most effective. “Are you terribly sorry?”

  Settling back in his chair he paused, as if wanting to choose his words carefully. “I am, and I’m not.”

  “You surprise me, my dear.” She’d assumed he would long to use a coming child as the ultimate reason for them to marry.

  “I hope I’m not always predictable, Fanny.” A quick smile lit his face. “I want to keep you guessing.” He sobered again. “I would be thrilled if you carried my child, my dear. Never think otherwise. And yet, I would not want that blessed event to be the only reason you chose to wed me.” Taking her hand, he raised it to his lips. “I would have it be because you loved me and no other.”

  Of all the arguments to marry Lord Lathbury, his generous nature in this declaration must be one of the greatest. And harder still to refuse.

  “Shall we return to the music room or would you like cards instead?” He rose and assisted her as well.

  “Cards I think,” Fanny said, grasping his arm with eager fingers. “I am feeling lucky tonight.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Travel sore and weary, Fanny entered Theale’s family parlor late the next afternoon, dropped into a chair, and groaned. “I thought roads in a modern age would be better maintained. Our carriage bumped along as though we were driving along the ribs of a giant.”

  “Good afternoon, Frances.” Lavinia, Lady Theale, set her cup down on the marble-topped tea table beside her high-backed armchair, carved at the top with strange shapes.

  A masculine-looking chair, Fanny had always thought, with its dark walnut wood, animal hide seat cushion, and bare backboard. It looked deuced uncomfortable, still it suited Lavinia somehow.

  “I hope your stay was more pleasant than your journey.” Her sister-in-law looked down her long nose at Fanny. “It seems to have left you bereft of your manners in any case.”

  Inwardly, Fanny groaned again. A high-stickler, just like her husband, Lavinia insisted on the most correct behavior possible. Fanny and Elizabeth had grown so close they had relaxed into a comfortable companionship by the end of their stay in Brighton. Too relaxed, apparently.

  “I do beg your pardon, Lavinia.” Fanny sat up, immediately assuming the correct posture with shoulders straight and her back nowhere near the chair’s. “Good afternoon. How are you, dear?”

  “That is better. I am very well, thank you.” A slight nod from the older woman indicated the lesson was over. For now. “Would you like tea?”

  “Yes, thank you.” Aching with tiredness, Fanny accepted the cup, hoping Lavinia would keep her catechism short this time. She always insisted on asking about every particular of each journey everyone who resided within the household made. Fanny and Jane had agreed that the woman then took all that information straight to her husband, who wanted to keep his thumb on every pulse. At fifty-five, the marquess showed no signs of loosening his grip on all their lives.

  “Did you and Mrs. Easton enjoy your little holiday? Did you use my letters of introduction? There are so few people Theale and I know left in Brighton, but I hope you availed yourself of the company of those we do.” Handing Fanny her tea, Lavinia raised an eyebrow.

  “Of course, we were delighted to meet Lord and Lady Marchant, Mrs. Easterbrook, and Lady Hyde-Cawfield. Lady Hermione Rochester, with whom I shared a table in the refreshment room, I was already acquainted with. It was very kind of you to assist us in making so many new acquaintances.” Duller people Fanny had never met.

  Even Elizabeth, usually without a harsh word to say about anyone, had admitted the two hours spent at cards with Lady Hyde-Crawford and her sister, Miss Sofia Banks, had tried her soul. A little spirited conversation at the least would have lifted the curse from the evening’s entertainment; however, the one lady spoke of nothing save how clever she and her husband were, while the other only lamented her lack of a husband. Each had monopolized her table, despite a shuffling of partners, until Fanny had pled a genuine headache and she and Elizabeth had returned home before eleven o’clock.

  “I am so pleased you met dear Penelope’s grandmamma. Such a sweet girl Craighaven has married.” Lavinia relaxed her face and for the briefest moment smiled. “Lady Marchant had her come-out with my next youngest sister. Also a sweet girl.” Lavinia sipped her tea, her gaze still hard on Fanny. “She wrote to me after you called on her the first time, to express her gratitude for the connection. She happened to mention also that you were often seen in the company of Lord Lathbury while you were in Brighton.”

  Resisting the urge to grind her teeth, Fanny instead smiled and nodded. “She is correct. Lord Lathbury had informed me at Lady Beaufort’s masquerade in June that he would be removing to the seaside for some time during the month of July.”

  “Did you pursue him there?”<
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  Fanny cocked her head, determined not to lose her temper. She so often said unfortunate things when riled. A fact Lavinia knew all too well. “I do not think I would characterize my actions as pursuit. Lord Lathbury is an old friend and as old friends do, we wished to renew our acquaintance after our encounter at the masquerade.”

  “Why did he not simply pay you a call here after that evening? Why take yourself off to Brighton for an assignation?” Her sister-in-law’s pursed lips and keen glare showed Lavinia truly on the hunt for scandal. Fanny’s behavior must have been called into question while she had been absent. By Theale, perhaps?

  “Why would you think we had an ‘assignation,’ Lavinia?”

  “Why else would you suddenly decide to go to Brighton? You’d never expressed such an interest before.” The woman’s sharp gaze darted all over Fanny’s face.

  “I had been in mourning for a year, if you remember.” She tried to put a hint of reproach into her voice. “I’d had no chance to go anywhere or see anyone for a very long time. As you well know.” Fanny paused for a sip, and inspiration struck. “And when Lord Lathbury spoke of his going to take the waters at Brighton, it recalled to me my family’s outings when I was a child. We went to Weymouth each year, not Brighton, still the mention of it made me long to experience it once again.”

  “Then why not go to Weymouth, if that was where you were used to going?” Apparently, Lavinia was loath to let the subject go. Why?

  Sighing, Fanny brought out the reason she suspected Lavinia was searching for. “As I already said, I wished to become reacquainted with Lord Lathbury. He has been very attentive to me ever since our meeting in June. You’ll remember the flowers he sent the next morning?”

  With a slow nod, her sister-in-law acknowledged the huge bouquet that had dominated the entry hall for days.

  Swallowing hard, Fanny continued slowly. “He has also made me an offer of marriage.”

  The smile that spread across Lavinia’s face shocked Fanny to no end. In ten years she’d never seen her sister-in-law give such a display of satisfaction. It was quite off-putting, really.

  “How splendid for you, my dear.” Though her words contained a modicum of warmth—another first where her sister-in-law was concerned—the woman’s eyes were calculating. “You should have told me this immediately. We will, of course, assist with your preparations for the wedding.”

  “I have not accepted him yet.”

  Reaching for the teapot, the woman stopped, her head snapping up. “Haven’t accepted him? Why ever would you not accept Lord Lathbury?”

  “As I said, we had not met for some years. I need to know him better, need to see if he has changed at all since that time.”

  A peculiar look came over Lavinia’s face, a flicker of impatience teamed with something akin to malice. “You should think carefully before discarding such a suitor, Frances. You do have your welfare and that of your daughter to think of.”

  Warily, Fanny turned the teacup this way and that in its saucer, the faint rasp of the porcelain like the gritting of teeth. What had that disturbing look meant? “I do think of my welfare, Lavinia. That is why I must be certain before leaping into a marriage with a man I hardly know. After Stephen’s—” She stopped herself just in time. Lavinia likely had no idea of Stephen’s infidelities, although unless the marquess had no idea of his brother’s character, he must have known they occurred. Perhaps not the extent of them, however. “After having Stephen as a husband, well, I think I must take care to marry a man who will treat me even better.”

  “Beggars cannot be choosers, Frances.”

  “I hardly think I am a beggar, Lavinia.” Fanny sipped her cooling tea, feathers ruffled. The terms of her settlement agreements were a sore spot with her.

  “You have lived upon Theale’s generosity almost since you married his brother and completely since Stephen’s death. If you have the means to release us from this obligation, out of common decency you should take it.” Lavinia sat back on her forbidding chair, the sour look on her face like a monarch about to order the beheading of someone.

  Sliding the cup back into its saucer, afraid she would smash it otherwise, Fanny rose. “I had no idea Ella and I were such a burden to you. As you must know, the clause in my settlements was none of my doing. Because of Stephen’s commission in the army, my father feared the possibility of his death and wished to provide as best he could for me. If Theale had not wanted the expense of my upkeep in the event of my widowhood, he should not have agreed to that stipulation in the contracts.”

  Looking down her long nose, Lavinia glared at her with a long-suffering eye. “As per those arrangements, Theale will, of course, provide for you for as long as you live, Frances, or until you marry again. Ella as well, until she marries. However, in fairness to the marquess, if you have a decent offer you should take it. I should think you would want a home of your own at last.”

  “I should like nothing better, my lady.” These were new heights of insolence, even for her sister-in-law. The woman had ever been frosty toward Fanny, refusing to call her by any name other than Frances and making her feel most unwelcome at any of Theale’s properties. “I daresay I would have repaired to another relative’s home by now had I one who could take me. My cousin’s circumstances forbid it, however.”

  “So sad for you that you and she are the only family you have left, save Theale.” The archness in the woman’s deep voice made Fanny bite back the sharp retort she longed to make.

  “I am sure that if I could have prevented my family’s deaths, Lavinia, I would have done so.” Her father, mother, sister, and brother had all been caught up in the measles epidemic in 1809. Over the course of two months, her entire family had been lost. She had wanted to go to them, help nurse them, but Stephen and Theale both had forbidden it. That had turned out to be a lucky circumstance, for soon after she’d discovered she was with child. In the end, all she could do was mourn her family’s loss. “I do have Ella as well, you remember.”

  “Such a delightful child. So very like Stephen.” Lavinia’s features softened, as they always did when speaking of Ella. “Save in her coloring, of course. That she gets from you.”

  “I daresay so. All the Tarkingtons are blond.”

  “Yes, all of my children were blond, thank goodness.” Lavinia sighed proudly. “I’ve always thought pale hair against a pale face is a lovely combination. So unfortunate Ella did not take after her papa in that respect.” She glanced up at Fanny, her mouth pursing again. “The family could have been all blonds.”

  “Save for me.” Fanny turned the screw as best she could. She’d always known the fact Ella took after her irked her sister-in-law to no end.

  “Indeed. I see you stayed out in the sun far too much in Brighton. Your face is as brown as a pair of York tan gloves.”

  The hairs on the back of Fanny’s neck bristled. Turning on her heel, she swept toward the door just as it opened on Ella and Nurse.

  “Mama!” Ella ran to her and jumped into her mother’s arms. “I missed you. I truly did.”

  Burying her face in Ella’s hair, Fanny hugged her child as a wave of guilt washed over her. She hadn’t seen her daughter for over three weeks. “I missed you too, my love. Every day.” She glanced up at Nurse. “Thank you for bringing her down.” She hugged Ella once more, then set her on the floor. “But how did you know I was here?”

  The nurse gave her a startled look, then turned her head sharply toward Lady Theale.

  “I told Clayborn to bring her.” Lavinia rose from her throne and extended a hand toward the girl. “Ella and I have tea every day at this time. Come, Ella.”

  The child clung to Fanny’s hand, then grasped her about the waist.

  “Ella.”

  The imperious voice made Fanny shudder. She took Ella’s hand and kissed it. “Let’s go have tea with Aunt Theale, shall we?”

  “You will come with me?” The hopeful blue eyes turned up to her smote Fanny’s heart anew. If
she were six years old, she wouldn’t want to be left alone with Lavinia either. “Yes, darling. Of course, I will. I haven’t seen you in ever so long. I’m sure Aunt won’t mind me joining you, will you, Lavinia?”

  “Not at all.” The icy look behind her sister-in-law’s eyes belied her words as she resumed her regal seat.

  “You see, Ella? I shall be part of the party today.” Fanny smiled down at her as she steered them toward the sofa beside Lavinia’s chair. Although the most comfortable seat in the room, that still didn’t say much. The bright vermillion upholstery was stiff, the seat cushion thin, and the bizarre arms curled inward in such an odd fashion Fanny never wanted to touch them. The whole family drawing room gave off a cold and uncomfortable aura no fireplace blaze could counteract.

  “How long have you been having these little teas, Lavinia?” And why hadn’t she told her of them? Fanny settled them on the sofa. Ella’s feet, encased in white slippers embroidered with pink flowers, now touched the floor. When had the child gotten so tall?

  “You have been gone so much since you came out of mourning, I thought Ella might like the treat. Clayborn, ring for more tea and cakes, please, then you may leave.”

  “Yes, my lady.” The nurse jerked the bellpull by the door, curtsied, and scurried out the door.

  Fanny bit back a sharp retort. Perhaps Lavinia was truly fond of the child. “It was thoughtful of you to have arranged such a treat for Ella.”

  “I used to do the same with my children. We would have tea every afternoon, right here. They are grown now, all married save the last one, and she had her come-out this Season past. Never any time for tea with her mother.”

  The plaintive sound in Lavinia’s voice brought a pang of guilt to Fanny’s heart. Perhaps she had misjudged her sister-in-law. She sounded so lonely, although the woman seemed to have the busiest social life Fanny had ever heard of. Always countless calls to make every Tuesday and Thursday, committee meetings for the various charities to which she gave her patronage, ton entertainments by the dozens to attend, in addition to her other responsibilities as Marchioness of Theale. Still she had found time to give Fanny’s daughter what should be an extraordinary treat.