Fists balling, he charged toward her again and wrenched her arm. “Philip, come on out here before your mother is hurt. You hear me, boy? I’ll break her arm.”
He tugged on her elbow until she screamed, but Philip made no sound in response.
“Break it off, if you must, but my boy is safe from you. He’s gone.”
He tossed her to the ground and sputtered an obscenity. She landed hard on her backside, the floor stinging her hip. “Take my offer for money. You don’t want me as a wife. You want money to buy your own lands. I’ll give you ten thousand pounds.”
“You think you can buy me off, you slut? Why settle for a slice? If I control you, I can control it all.” He yanked her up from the floor. With a hand to her neck, he pushed her against the wall. “Where is the mulatto?”
She tried to buck free, then stilled, looking him dead in his eye. “Hit me if you must. But you’ll never have my son. You’ll never control me. I’m not afraid of you.”
Lester cursed, spitting in her face. “You should be.”
Theodosia closed her eyes to blunt the sting of his arm coming for her, but nothing came. When she opened her eyes, she saw a scuffle, flying fists. Ewan and Lester traded blows.
She blinked to make sure she wasn’t dreaming, then ran to the door and screamed, “Help! Lester has lost his mind.”
Evil Lester blunted Ewan in the back, smashing him against the closet door.
It shook, and her heart nearly stopped.
Nothing stirred or sounded. Philip had to be fine. He had to be.
The wind seemed gone from Ewan. He gasped and gasped, but he reared up. “That all you have?”
“No.” Lester took a run and aimed his fists straight for Ewan’s chest.
Ewan groaned at the blow, then he turned his head her way, and laughed. “He has to do better. Ghosts are hard to get rid of.”
Lester shook out his fingers. He moved again toward Ewan, but two grooms barged into the room.
“Get Lester,” she said. Her shaky voice surely sounded pitiful.
The men grabbed him and kept him from moving.
Ewan came and took her palm. “Did he hurt you?”
Lester twisted and tugged but couldn’t get free. “Theodosia, get them from me. I will make you pay. I’ll get legal action on you for shipping off Philip.”
Ewan’s blue eyes clouded.
Would he judge her again and believe the worst?
He released her hand and her heart fell, crumbling past her stomach.
Wrenching his neck, he pivoted to Lester. “You are a pest to my cousin. What will it take to make you go away?”
“Why do you defend her? All the Fitzwilliams hate her.”
“She’s the only one of us beyond reproach. A caring mother and an honorable widow. If she sent him away, it was for his good.” Ewan stalked over to Lester. “Mrs. Cecil, your grooms can let the man go. I think he is in control. Perhaps even reasonable.”
In her head, not a doubt remained about Ewan keeping her from harm, but to let Lester go? A second glance at Ewan and his encouraging nod, she motioned to her footmen. “Let the fiend go.”
Lester smoothed his dusty brown lapel with his red fingers, then he splayed them in the air. “What’s in your coat, Fitzwilliam?”
“Scar tissue, my boy, can be quite hard. Or was it the blade in my pocket?” He whipped it out, a long knife with a pearl handle. He made circles with it, before putting it away.
“The witch sent the boy away. I am his guardian. I have rights to know his well-being.”
“Theodosia, is my little cousin well?”
“Yes.”
“See, Lester. All you had to do was ask.” Ewan started to laugh and winked at Theodosia. “There’s a benefit to scars. They make you harder. More dependable. Perhaps they make one shrewd. Tell me what you need to go away.”
“The Chancery will know that she denied me my rights. And running away won’t do anything.”
“The courts will be happy that Mrs. Cecil has packed her bags. She’s eloping. Young Philip will have a new stepfather.”
She wanted to object, but to do so would allow her enemy a foothold. So, she stayed quiet and nodded like a fool. Maybe she was one. She was depending solely on Ewan.
Lester’s face broke. The shock made his chin drop to the floor. “What?”
Ewan came again to her side and lifted her hurting palm. “You were right, Lester. I have a tendre for my cousin. She has finally agreed to marry me. We are eloping.” Ewan waved her letter to the baron in the air.
She felt her mouth pop wide, but she closed it and bit her lip. Something untoward had occurred, but the look in Ewan’s eyes, one of trust me, made her nod again and say, “Yes. I did propose. You know the solicitor said the court will favor Philip having a father, more than a guardian. And Mr. Fitzwilliam doesn’t have a conflict of interest. He’s not trying to wrestle away Philip’s fortune. Unlike you, he simply wants to love the boy. Who do you think the courts will side with, you or the son of a peer?”
Lester rubbed his hands together. He paced a bit. “Then I’m left with nothing.”
Thinking about how Mathew would do things, she decided to allay the bull. “No, you are not. Sign the papers in the parlor, and I’ll still give you ten thousand pounds. You can buy land. You take all the knowledge you’ve gleaned from me and Cecil and have your own. That’s what you really want.”
Lester paced some more. “I have to think about it. You wouldn’t offer if you had no doubts of winning.”
Ewan stepped in front of him. “The widow is trying to help you save face. She wants this over. For her peace, we’ll offer a sum of twenty thousand but only if you agree now, and only now.”
That was blackmail payment. Ewan had gone too far. She wanted to box his ears, spending so much. “That’s too much. It’s not—”
“To have him go away, so you can be free, the Fitzwilliam side of the family will repay this amount.” He turned to Lester. “It’s only a deal, if we do this now. Take your chances at the Chancery and get nothing. What say you?”
Lester’s head swiveled from left to right. He flexed his fingers. “Yes.” He sneered and pivoted to the hall.
“Follow him, Ewan. The papers are in my desk in the parlor. Then send him from my house.”
“Theodosia, I will make sure he never harms you or Philip again. Where is my son?”
When her gaze went to the closet, Ewan shot there, too. He opened the door, sent a few blankets sailing, and brought out her sleeping boy. He kissed his forehead then handed the boy to her. “Stay up here until this is over. I’ll come back for you this time.”
She waited until Ewan had left before letting her sobs free. As his footsteps faded, she hugged Philip tighter. “You were so good. I’m so sorry.”
Tear after tear released, but she couldn’t fully breathe until Ewan returned. Philip wasn’t safe until those papers were signed.
“Don’t cr-cry, Ma-Ma.”
But she had to.
She’d hid her child from ugliness in a dark space, but he couldn’t hear the ugliness. That was a blessing.
Something deep inside her opened, and she took a full portion of air. So many years ago, her mother had done the same thing, closeting away her babe in a coal scuttle. Today, she became her mother in a very good way, like she had six years ago, to protect her child.
The front door slammed, followed by more footsteps.
Ewan returned, he came inside the nursery and lifted her up. He put Philip on his shoulders and lifted her palm. “You are safe from him, Theodosia Cecil, but not from me.”
She reached up and smoothed Philip’s pinafore. “I’ll take my chances with you.”
His brow rose. “Why? Am I not so scary?”
She dried her face with her hands. “You should fear me. You overspent ten thousand pounds. You have some explaining to do.”
As if she hadn’t spoken, he spun and cooed at Philip. “I will buy you the best set of
breeches. This year to come. You will be six then.”
Waving at him to stop, she tried to step in front of him. “Don’t make promises. It is so hard to keep them.”
He shrugged and spun faster. Philip tossed his head back and laughed. “Your mother is being stubborn.” He moved closer to the boy’s good ear. “I promise to fill you up every day with words. I’ll make up for the years I’ve missed.” He caught her gaze. “I can do the same for you, too, Theodosia.”
She bit her lip, then followed him down the steps, giving chase all the way to the parlor.
Signed and blotted on the desk were the renouncement of Lester’s right as a guardian and the contract giving him twenty thousand pounds. Her figure of ten had been crossed out. “Ewan, do you know how much one can buy with that amount?”
“I’m sure you do, Mrs. Cecil. The point is, he’s gone. Lord Crisdon will pay.”
She had planned on the earl paying Lester’s portion tomorrow when she sold him Tradenwood, but that was tomorrow’s trouble. Ewan had done it. He’d saved Philip. Smiling, she picked up the papers and held them to her bosom. “Thank you, Ewan.”
The man wasn’t listening. He was too busy taking Philip to the bookcase and having him put his fingers on the spines.
Pickens entered the room. “Ma’am, I made the arrangements for Philip’s passage with the governess, but the footman said there had been some commotion while I was out.”
A quick swipe to her eyes, and a check to her chignon, she turned to her butler. “It’s over. Lester is gone.”
A smile filled the old man’s face. “May I start the unpacking?”
She shook her head. “No, Pickens. I’m still selling.”
Ewan frowned as he lifted his lips to Philip’s ear. “Maybe I can change her mind, or at least delay her, Pickens. Mrs. Cecil is eloping tomorrow. Make sure she is suitably packed, her and the boy. One bag each should do.”
Her mouth dropped open again, wide enough to gulp all the air in the parlor. She recovered, tugging on her short gray cap sleeves. “Leave us. There is much to discuss.”
Swiveling his head between them, Pickens backed to the door. “Will you require anything?”
Hugging Philip as if he were a delicate China doll, Ewan approached Pickens. “See that no one disturbs us. I want the widow to compromise me in privacy. But do bring some tea and biscuits.”
Smothering a laugh, Pickens bowed and closed the door.
Setting Philip on the chaise, he motioned to her. “Your word is good, Mrs. Cecil. Is it not?”
She didn’t move. “Yes.”
He took a step to her direction. “You proposed to the baron?”
She squinted at him, but answered the truth. “Yes.”
“Then you proposed to me. I answered your advertisement, initially giving my brother assistance. He’s looking for a bride.”
“So Lord Hartwell is a liar, too? Pity, he seemed nice.”
He strode a little closer. “Lord Tristan is one of my father’s lesser titles. He borrowed it. He is truly seeking a wife of convenience through newspaper advertisements. By happenstance, he stumbled upon yours. I do find it odd, that you’d attract another Fitzwilliam, but we are attracted to unforgettable women.”
The things she wrote, thinking she’d found a kind stranger—it had been Ewan. She clasped her naked arms, hunting for her missing shawl, as if it would keep her from feeling so vulnerable. “Then it was him who I proposed to, not you. Did you like this joke? Did it give you both a good laugh?”
Ewan put his palms lightly to her elbows. “There’s no laughing at you, but I did use the letters to test you. You passed. You astounded me. You exposed more and more of your heart in your responses. It frustrated me, tormented me, actually, that you couldn’t be this free in my presence.”
She dipped her head as her soul warred between disbelief and anger. “Those were private responses meant for someone else. Or at least the notion of someone else.”
He closed the distance between them. “It made me jealous and crazy to know you couldn’t say the same to me. I didn’t understand before. I failed you in the worst way. Your letters gave me the chance to know you.” He turned toward Philip. “Is it fine with you if I kiss your mother?”
The boy didn’t lift his head. He picked up a book from the table and was turning pages.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
She tried to move or duck but he engulfed her in his solid arms. He kissed her chin and worked his way to that spot on her throat that made her knees buckle. Weighing the cost of returning his passion or running, she clung to his lapels.
He stopped and held her. “My love will consume you, Theodosia. But I’ll burn until you are sure. I want you only as my proper wife. Elope with me. I don’t want to wait another moment to wed.”
Breathing so hard from the air he’d stolen with his words, she shook her head. “This is reckless. We can’t survive your family. Not six years ago, not now. You’ve freed me from Lester. That’s all I want. Let me leave here with Philip.”
“So you promised to marry me in a letter, will you compromise me in this closed room with a minor’s supervision, and then leave?”
“You’re twisting things, Ewan. I’m not a playwright so I won’t try to best your words.” She moved from him and headed to their son, but he clasped her shoulder, the one still smarting from Lester’s cruelty. “Ouch.”
He turned her, taking care to massage her arm. “I was fooled by or hadn’t paid attention, to the fact that you act a great deal braver than you are. One of us must be brave enough to stay. Let me spend the rest of my life filling you with the words I should’ve six years ago. That you are loved. I believe in us, and I’ll never leave your side.”
He stroked her face. “You care so much for others. You’re smart. No one can match you with numbers. You even let a fool save face.”
“Mathew taught me to not let a bull run mad.”
“I’m talking about me. You let me go to war, because you thought that’s what I wanted. This fool didn’t realize I should’ve put what you wanted first. I’ll deal with my family, but my priorities are right here, you and Philip.”
She grasped the revers of his deep chocolate coat. Too hesitant to draw near, too scared to turn away. “I can’t put my hopes on something that will vanish. I won’t have Philip caught in another war.”
He patted her fingers and led her to the chaise. “Then trust me, a little more each day for the rest of my life. Don’t let me haunt your memories. Let me be present every day with you and my son.”
Whether she agreed or not, she was nodding yes between his kisses. His arms fit snug about her. Secure in his embrace, she didn’t want to be released.
As his hands started to wander, he stopped himself and sat next to Philip. “Tomorrow won’t be here fast enough. I’m going to sit here and read. This overnight stay should be enough to ruin my reputation. Then you’ll have to make an honest man of me.”
“But Lord Crisdon is coming then.”
Ewan reached for her hand and eased her into a comfortable spot beside him, even propping a pillow behind her head. “We’ll keep the meeting, then elope. If selling Tradenwood is what you wish, then do it. We need to be together in a place where I can write and get Philip the aid he needs. But I want you to keep Tradenwood. Cecil meant it for you and the boy, not the Fitzwilliams.”
She closed her eyes. Maybe morning would never come. Philip was safe sitting between her and her dreamer. That memory she’d tuck into her heart. It surely made it hurt less than waking up tomorrow to lose Tradenwood and Ewan to the Earl of Crisdon.
…
Sunlight filtered into the room through the open patio doors. Morning had come. Ewan blinked and stretched. Philip slept in his lap. He fingered the boy’s dark straight hair. Knowing that he helped keep him safe from Lester—that had to right some of the wrongs done to the boy.
He eased him onto the sofa and stood. Reaching up, he relieved that t
ense knot in his back. Then it hit him. His fiancée had left without giving him a morning kiss. He searched the room but his chaise mate had abandoned him.
Scratching the light scruff to his chin, he wondered if she had taken to her bedchamber. Pride built in his chest. She trusted him with Philip. That made up for her less-than-wholehearted endorsement of eloping.
Theo wasn’t one to be rushed. He wanted her to love him as deeply and as completely as he did her. Thinking of her, of what she liked, it came to him where she’d be. The patio.
She sat upon the knee wall. Wrapped again in her trademark shawl and yesterday’s gray gown, Theodosia didn’t quite look rested. Crinkles set under almond eyes. Her smooth bronze face held a frown. What a travesty for such a tasty mouth. “I know why you bite that lip. It’s quite ripe.”
She smiled for a second but stared at something.
He turned and saw the wonderful blooms of the clematis, sweet in purple and rose. “Why are you sad in such a place?”
“Mathew built this arbor. We planted the vines together. He was very happy here.”
“We will keep it going, if you don’t sell Tradenwood.”
“Will we?” She shrugged. “Your mother hates it. Calls it weeds.”
A few steps closer and he saw fear settling into the black pools of her eyes. “Go upstairs and dress. Get Philip dressed, too. Wear any color but gray or black.”
She took his hand and held it to her heart. “I’ll be ready before Lord Crisdon comes.”
He almost wanted to check and make sure she didn’t escape out the front door. Theodosia wasn’t convinced of his resolve but the walls, the curtain between them, had to fall.
He went to her desk, pulled out a quill, and began to pen corrections to the legal documents she had in a pile, including the bill of sale he’d found yesterday. Not deterred, he purposed to win. If they eloped today, and she made him a proper husband, he knew they would. She had to agree.
Within the hour, the sound of a carriage arriving rumbled through Tradenwood.
Pickens announced the Earl and Countess of Crisdon and led them to the parlor.
The Bittersweet Bride Page 27
