by Carrie Lomax
She was giving him a chance. Richard didn’t know whether to kiss her or run to the docks in search of the ship that by rights ought to be only a few days behind them.
“The second reason we’ve remained in London is that I wanted to be close to the doctor Edward has found. The doctor did not want me to travel to the country in the spring, fearing that I might lose the babies. Twins are risky, so we are taking every precaution. In the country, one can wait for quite a while before a midwife or doctor arrives. I have a midwife, who is here in residence with us, working under the supervision of London’s best surgeon.”
“A surgeon? That seems an unusual choice,” Richard observed. He continued to cast glances at Miriam, but she avoided his gaze.
“When I was living with the tribe in Brazil, I witness a healer save two women’s lives by making an incision in the abdomen to remove a baby. After the operation the wound was stitched shut with a paste to prevent infections. Both women and their babes survived the operations,” Edward said. “We found a surgeon who has studied the procedure to great extent under James Miranda Stuart Barry in South Africa. He is willing to perform the procedure if it should become necessary to save Harper’s life.”
The besotted look his brother and sister-in-law exchanged again stirred pangs of jealousy. Why did his and Miriam’s path have to be so much more difficult?
“There is also your pet project keeping us here.”
The countess blushed. “Yes, my Home for Troubled Girls.”
“What do you mean, home for troubled girls?” Miriam asked.
“Before I married, I was apprenticed to a psychiatric doctor and the owner of a prestigious asylum. This is how I met Edward, actually. When the facility closed, some of my former patients were sent to sub-standard asylums. If you have ever had occasion to visit the average asylum, you will know how dreadful such places can be.”
“Miriam and I tend to avoid such places,” Richard interjected with a warm look at her. Miriam lowered her gaze. He had not won reconciliation yet.
“I decided that there was a need for an asylum suitable to protect women from the kinds of abuses that can occur when they are confined to care,” Harper continued. “I set about forming a committee to raise funds It was shocking to me how much women were willing to contribute, merely to be in good graces with the new countess.” She made a face. “Mind you, these were many of the same people who refused to speak to me when I was introduced as the granddaughter of a baroness.”
“You don’t have to enjoy their company to build something worthwhile,” Edward observed.
“I know, darling. I have you to remind me of my good fortune, and what a joy it is to be able to share some of it with those less fortunate.”
Edward squeezed her hand right there at the dinner table. Richard wanted to be appalled, but all he could muster was morose dejection knowing if he tried to touch his wife’s hand, she’d probably slap it away. He deserved that. He knew he did.
“You managed this project while becoming a countess and bearing your first child?” asked Mrs. Kent.
“Not exactly. We are still searching for an appropriate location. We had thought to perhaps let Richard’s cottage as a temporary location, but then the opportunity for Richard to gain a peerage arose, and we decided he might better wish to use it as his country seat. It was also a way for me to develop contacts within society, which has proved useful for the other reason we remained in London this summer.” The countess smiled proudly at her husband.
“I have taken up the customary role in the House of Lords,” Edward added. “It is monstrously tedious, negotiating with every single interested member. There is a vote planned for early September.”
Another affectionate squeeze. Richard risked another glance at Miriam. This time, her eyes were on her with an intensity of emotion that made him shudder. Perhaps, there was hope for affectionate squeezes at the table and without having his hand swatted away.
Chapter 21
Miriam nearly collapsed with relief when she was shown to a separate bedroom from Richard’s without having to ask. Mrs. Kent’s room was immediately next door to hers, while Richard’s connected through an internal, adjoining door. Miriam had been assigned a maid, who had stored her belongings carefully in an ornately painted wardrobe.
Alone. She needed this time to recover from what she had done. A single word from her, and Richard would have left her alone. Fool that she was, Miriam hadn’t taken the way out he’d offered her. Miriam checked and re-checked the adjoining door. She attempted opening it only to discover that it was locked from the other side. Richard must have heard her scuffling near the door because he knocked, received Miriam’s permission, and hesitantly entered her quarters.
A few weeks ago, she’d have given anything to have him come to her bedroom. Now, Miriam was confused to still want the man who had betrayed her so badly.
“Tell me everything about your plan with Lizzie,” Miriam demanded without preamble. If she were to salvage this adventure, Mrs. Kent was right. She had to go after what she wanted. How long could they maintain the fiction of being happily married newlyweds if she and Richard didn’t talk?
At first, Richard was eager to explain himself. “The night Lizzie came to me with this idea, I turned her down flat. I heard her out as she described her scheme, which she apparently mistook for consent. I told her outright that her scheme was a fantasy, and that it would never work. That is when she told me she was pregnant. She knew it would force my hand.”
Richard sat back and ran his hand through his hair. “I didn’t know whether or not to believe her. Lizzie will say anything to get what she wants, no matter how tenuous its relation to the truth. I told her that if she wanted her scheme to work that she needed to stop coming to my rooms in the middle of the night. I was unequivocal in telling her that she had to be completely out of the picture from that moment forward. Lizzie did not like the fact that I was ending the association. I implied that I would go along with her scheme just to get her out of my cabin. It was cowardly of me. I have no excuse other than I could not bring myself to leave the mother of my child friendless, no matter how much I disliked her. For me, any relationship with Lizzie ended that evening.”
Miriam swallowed. “Lizzie put you in an impossible position.”
She could acknowledge that much truth. A vise tightened around her chest. Richard’s dark eyes pleaded with her to believe him, but Miriam didn’t know if she ever could.
“Yes. I felt I deserved Lizzie, because I have not lived a virtuous life, Miriam. I have reveled in every type of sin known to man, as well as a few I may have invented.”
Her imagination furiously conjured every kind of pleasure she had never experienced. Richard gave her a small, knowing smile. Miriam felt heat spread across her cheeks and pulled her wrapper closer around her neck as she tucked her bare feet onto the chair in her dressing alcove.
“Once Lizzie had planted the seed of courting you, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Miriam. You looked like a nymph playing in the sunlight that morning on the beach the next morning. I found you utterly irresistible.” Richard stalked the short length of her room while speaking.
“Unfortunately, that gave Lizzie the impression that I was going along with her scheme. She took up with your cousin Spencer in a bid to incite my jealousy. When that didn’t work, she grew angry and began snooping through my mail to find information she could use to coerce me. I had hoped she might reconcile with Arthur and leave me alone but no. Until she appeared on the New Hope, I had no idea that she would go to such lengths. Lizzie is completely out of control.”
“You’re scaring me.” But what Miriam felt was more complicated than fear. Regret at having befriended a woman who had never valued her beyond her money, apparently. Lizzie had only included her in the fun because she had been planning to cheat her all along. Miriam had played unknowing part in bringing Lizzie into Richard’s life. She felt ashamed of her naivete.
“I
don’t mean to. Apart from being obnoxious and dogging our heels, I doubt Lizzie intends any real harm to either of us.”
“And the buggy you took me riding in?” Miriam demanded. It had bothered her, once she had taken the time to think it over. He hadn’t owned one, yet he’d procured a very fine one on a moment’s notice.
Richard said nothing. Miriam knew she had him even before he spoke.
“Yes. I borrowed it from Lizzie. I did not wish to disappoint you, and I had no other means to obtain one.”
Miriam groaned. “Why is getting the truth out of you like pulling teeth? Can’t you simply speak honestly for once?”
Richard fisted his hands in his hair. “I’ve not had much practice with honesty. I am trying, Miriam. I swear.”
“Try harder.” Miriam said, scowling. Richard’s footfalls came closer. Her pulse quickened at his approach.
“I am sorry. I never expected to fall in love with you. I tried to warn you about me. But now that I have you, I find I am desperate to keep you.”
He caressed her curls, and Miriam leaned her face against his hard stomach. Hot tears stung her eyelids. “I don’t know how to forgive you, Richard. I hate to think you were right when you said I had used you for the same reasons Lizzie did. You are not wrong, though.”
She exhaled a shuddering sigh.
“Miri, I forgive you. We had a rocky start. I wish to begin again. Let me court you, properly, the way you deserve.” He stroked her hair gently, soothingly.
“For as long as it takes the Thetis to arrive and dispose of the cargo at a profit,” Miriam replied into Richard’s shirt. She pulled back. “And then, Richard, I wish to return home. My father and Mrs. Kent were right. I find I am not well-suited to adventures after all.”
Richard released her with reluctance. “Then we must make this one count. Do you have any requests?”
“Mrs. Kent and I would like to visit a castle.”
Richard chuckled. Miriam wished she didn’t enjoy the sound so much.
“Easily done,” he replied. “We are practically tripping over them here in England. I have requested a bath. Would you like one as well?”
“Yes, please.” An image of Richard naked and damp from a hip bath flashed through her mind. For the next few weeks, Miriam would have to resist using him for one of the adventures she still wanted—losing her innocence. Whatever happened here, she was determined not to return to America a maiden. Yet asking for the experience she wanted meant keeping Richard in her life permanently. What a terrible mess.
Richard kissed her on the forehead and whispered, “I shall see to it.” Then he took her palm and pressed something cold and hard into its center. “This is the key to our adjoining door. I leave it in your keeping. If you wish to use it, the choice is yours.”
Miriam gazed in wonder and horror at the piece of metal. Her temptation made real.
With a soft click, Richard left her alone.
Chapter 22
Richard had been too tense and tired to notice much about his room before he’d gone to sleep yesterday. In the morning he blinked at the sight of dark inlaid-wood furniture in a room dominated by red drapes as though the past two years had been an unending nightmare. They were pulled back from the window to let light filter in through sheer lace linings.
This was home. Expensive. Quiet. Well-mannered servants to attend his every need.
“Does the room meet your requirements, sir?” asked Gregory, Edward’s valet. He carefully deposited Richard’s bags in the corner.
“It is most satisfactory, Gregory.” Richard gazed longingly at the bed with its crimson curtains. He’d spent the past two weeks in misery, staring out his porthole at an unforgiving sea in order to give Miriam as much space as possible on the cramped ship. Sleep had come in fits and starts. Fatigue kept his eyelids at half-mast.
“Your trunks will come up momentarily,” Gregory said. There wasn’t much for the man to unpack. Richard had given away all but the few outfits he deemed suitable for London, and most of them desperately needed a freshening. Gregory’s nose wrinkled upon opening his newly-arrived trunks. While he busied himself, Richard investigated the contents of the mirror-fronted wardrobe. Inside were his old clothes, from before his departure to America. He traced the fine wool and inhaled a trace of tobacco and the French soap he had favored when he could still afford such luxuries.
“There’s no rush to clean those,” Richard replied as he slipped into the warm water with a contented sigh. “My brother has thoughtfully kept my old clothing for me.” With a few adjustments they would clothe him in better fashion than the meagre items he’d brought from home.
America. Not home. This was home. Richard shaved off a week’s worth of stubble with quick, sharp motions. Gregory offered him a towel.
“You are much like the earl,” Gregory observed as Richard dried his face. Richard thought this an impertinent comment, not that he expected better manners from servants hired by his notoriously informal brother. Edward was very much like their father. No one had ever called him similar to his father or brother in any way. He was curious enough to ask, “In what way?”
“Independent. Shaving yourself, when I am here to assist you.”
He hadn’t even thought about it. “I have selected clothing for your review.”
Richard arched his eyebrow and toweled his hair dry. “I suppose I have become more so.”
“In my last position, I was obliged to vigorously rub my master’s buttocks. It was most uncomfortable. I appreciate not having to do so with you.”
“You speak your mind freely, Gregory.”
“I suppose I am accustomed to it. The earl and his countess are highly tolerant, even encouraging.”
I bet they are, Richard thought darkly. But all he said was, “The green brocade waistcoat is a better match for the jacket.”
Gregory pulled a face. “That particular shade is several seasons out of date. I recommend the gray.”
“I want the green.” Richard had a fiancé to win back. Miriam deserved the dashing aristocrat he’d once been. He needed to show her who and what he was. That he loved her enough to be his best self.
“As you wish.” Gregory bent to assist him with his trousers, but Richard waved him away.
“I am accustomed to doing this much myself. I may need your assistance tying my cravat. It has been some time since I required one. The American style is less formal.” Particularly when one worked the docks on a casual basis. Gregory had cast a quick glance at Richard’s calloused hands but said nothing. With the falls of his trousers fastened, Richard reached for the shirt Gregory had laid out for him and caught sight of himself in the mirror. The man reflected somberly there looked more like Old Richard than ever. Louche. Arrogant.
He hated Old Richard. He had been a terrible son. He’d killed his father.
No amount of forgiveness from Edward could change those bare facts. His father and mother, being dead, were in no position to forgive him the many excessive trespasses of his youth. Worse, they had died knowing him as a selfish, grasping, feckless lout. There was nothing he could do to repair the damage.
All he knew was that his selfishness had led him to Lizzie and then to Miriam. He’d gone along with Lizzie’s plan with the best of intentions but there was no denying the sordid underpinnings of their beginning.
Once he’d kissed Miriam beneath the stars on a moonlit island, Richard had wanted her any way he could get her. He still did. But he would never win her trust if he remained in his room contemplating his wardrobe all day, so Richard stuck his arms into the sleeves of his shirt. The fabric pulled tight over his biceps. Richard peered at the fabric in frustration. Surely, he wasn’t that much more muscled than he’d been a scant two years ago. But Gregory strained to close the shirt studs strained to close over his chest.
Gregory had been right. The waistcoat was a mistake. The color clashed subtly with the undertones in his jacket. Worse, it bagged around his midsection. Richard re
garded himself in the mirror with horrified resignation. He had never been fat, but he’d been soft in that way of English aristocrats who sneered at physical labor. His body had a different shape, now.
Richard discarded the offending garment and chose a neutral buff version instead. It blended with his trousers so that he resembled a sapling with a coat draped over its branches. He tried another, deep blue with silver threads, that added two stone to his physique.
“Nothing fits,” Richard grumbled to no one. “I am the same person I was upon leaving England, confound it. Why is it all so different?”
In a fit of temper, he tossed the waistcoats into an untidy pile. He stood back to glower at his handiwork.
It wasn’t true. His time away had changed him. A thrill of fear touched his neck like ice. Richard was different in ways he’d only begun to suspect.
No one had ever told him that leaving his homeland had meant he’d never be able to return to what he’d been.
“Would you and Mrs. Kent would like to visit museums today?” Harper invited over breakfast the next morning. Miriam observed her potential sister-in-law pick at her food. Thus far, Lady Briarcliff’s stomach had disagreed with kippers—a perfectly reasonable stance which Miriam agreed with—coddled eggs, and hot chocolate. Rolls with preserves appeared to be the lone foodstuff she could manage, washed down with weak tea made tepid with a splash of milk. In spite of her discomfort, the lady was trying her best to be an amiable and helpful hostess.
“That would be delightful. Thank you.” Miriam glanced at her companion and received a quick nod of approval.
Yesterday, Miriam had arrived here expecting to despise everyone in this household as an extension of Richard. Yet Harper, as the countess insisted upon using her given name, had proved to be gentle and courteous. The staff had been solicitous to Mrs. Kent, and even the imposing earl had been generous and kind. A hot bath, a good night of sleep in a comfortable bed, and a hearty breakfast—minus the flayed pickled herring—had done wonders to improve Miriam’s outlook. Still, nothing had fundamentally changed. She was still married to a man whose sole aim had been to cheat her out of her fortune. Richard had been bad enough to be banished from his country by these lovely people.
