“She despairs of ever seeing Alex or James wed. Believe me, she would have been over the moon if you had wed and given him children. She knows I am a lost cause and she wishes to play the good grandmother or even grand-aunt before she dies.”
So, Alex’s family might have come to accept her. It made the loss seem all the worse. But there was no help for it.
****
A week later Emily watched as Elizabeth mimicked the steps to a minuet, her little body moving with surprisingly excellent timing and grace. They were all gathered in the parlor after supper.
Peter clapped his hands. “Oh, what a pretty little opera dancer.”
Pure horror flashed briefly over Cornelia Hazelwood’s face. She quickly relaxed her features into a placid, pleasant expression. “Oh, heaven forbid a child of this house should come to such a scandalous end.” The lavish lace and pink ribbons on her white cap flopped as she shook her head. She looked up and caught Emily’s eye. “Oh, Miss Eliot, please put the child to bed.”
Emily came and took Elizabeth’s hand and began to lead her from the group.
“Ha, will you look at that?”
Emily paused and turned back. “Pardon me, Mrs. Hazelwood?”
Mrs. Hazelwood waved her off and turned to Peter. “The child never gives Emily any fuss. She is a little terror with everyone else. I’ve lost more maids than I care to count over that child and her temperament.”
“That’s because Emily is very sweet,” Peter said.
His eyes implored hers and she knew exactly what he was thinking. Have you considered my suit and what is your answer?
The pressure was too much and she had to look away. If she was a good person—no, a selfless person—she would accept him. But, though she liked him and knew she could respond to him carnally, she also knew she’d never, ever be able to love him. Not like she loved Alex. The way she would always love Alex. Surely a woman should not marry one man while bearing such an ardent love for his cousin?
She loved Alex and yet their differences had torn them apart. Was it better to wed a man one liked but did not love?
Did she have the heart to deny this little girl a chance to live within the embrace of a real family?
She fancied that she sensed the intensity of Peter’s will, focused in his probing stare, burning into her back as she led Elizabeth out of the parlor.
****
“I want the black and white one and the stripy one.”
“What?” Emily asked as she tucked Elizabeth into her cot in the attic chamber.
“The kittens at Alex’s house.” The little girl made Alex’s name sound like “owl-licks” and the sound hurt Emily’s heart.
Emily pulled the coverlet up. “How do you know about kittens at Mr. Dalton’s house?”
“Peter took me there today. He said I might pick two but I couldn’t decide which two to pick. There were six.” Tired and sleepy-eyed, the little girl lisped.
“Well, we can go tomorrow and—”
Elizabeth jolted to a sitting position and her two small, surprisingly warm hands gripped Emily’s. “No, no, no, they may all be gone by then.” Elizabeth’s voice rose in panic.
Emily sighed. “I can go and see. You must promise me you won’t fret later if the kittens are already taken.”
Elizabeth regarded her with solemn eyes, strangely mature. “I’ll never get angry with you, Emmy.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I know you’re not like the others. You’ll always do what you say.”
With that last proclamation weighing heavily upon her, Emily eased her hands from Elizabeth’s, stood then left the nursery to find Peter. “Did you tell Elizabeth that she might have a kitten—two kittens?”
“Yes, but the greedy little hoyden couldn’t make up her mind.” He grinned and his sky-blue eyes warmed. “Betsy is too much like me, I fear it greatly. She will need a firm hand, always.”
“She is in a fret because she fears someone else will come and take the two she wants before you can take her back over. She was quite heartbroken at the thought.”
His grin faded. “Oh dear.”
“Yes, I am afraid I allowed her to wheedle a promise from me that I would go there tonight and fetch the two she wants.”
“That was generous of you—especially since I imagine you don’t want to go there. Don’t worry, I shall go.”
But, if she purposely stayed away, wouldn’t she be handing a form of control over to Alex? A control he no longer had a right to. “If I am truly to put him from my life, I must be able to face him without fearing what he might do or say. I shouldn’t allow my actions to be affected by him.”
He nodded. “Then let me escort you.”
“You are too kind.”
“Not at all, my dear.”
His eyes flickered over her in a way that reminded her that this man wanted her. Not just in the way of a man seeking a woman to warm his bed. He wanted her for a wife, and as a mother for his child. A child she was beginning to care for. Deeply.
But what about the man himself? She studied his profile, his handsome, almost pretty features, his silver-gilt hair and his lean yet well-muscled frame. Her artist’s eye told her he was a fine specimen. He would give her beautiful children.
He was not as wealthy as Alex. Not anywhere near. But his family was high in society and he made a very generous living as an attorney. Any woman would be proud to be his wife.
Was pride enough?
Oh, if she were a truly good person the decision would already be made. She would marry him if for no other reason than Elizabeth’s sake.
Peter held her pelisse for her. She looked over her shoulder to smile her thanks as she donned the coat and the soft fur tickled her cheek.
I knew the dark fur would complement you.
Alex’s words echoed, unwelcome in her head, as she slid her arms into the sleeves. Peter came round and fastened the frogs as if she were incapable of doing it herself. He was most solicitous; he always was when he was with her. Yet Alex said this man would neglect her in time. That he had often left his wife alone and spent his time traveling and womanizing. That he scattered his children about without care.
She remembered Peter’s easy, smooth way during their first and only carnal encounter. Yes, the womanizing part was easy to imagine. Then again, Alex had been just as familiar with women and sex, yet she’d been willing to take a chance on his fidelity.
However, she loved him.
Peter held the door open for her. She walked out into the cold, cornflower-blue evening. He caught up to her and took her gloved hand in his. His hands were not as large as Alex’s but his grip was strong. They walked along, their shoes clicking on the sidewalk and the street lanterns lighting the way.
“You think that Elizabeth is a product of lustful recklessness?”
The question startled her and she stopped and looked at him. “I think it’s not my affair.”
“I want you to know it’s not typical of me. I don’t have others aside from her and my legitimate children. I have made sure of it. The first few times with her, I was ill. Feverish, out of my senses. I did not take care to protect Elizabeth’s mother against a pregnancy.”
“But…” She bit her tongue before she blurted Alex’s accusation.
Peter smiled wryly. “Ah, yes, Alex has been telling tales out of school. Once one makes a mistake, everyone assumes the worst. I have a few… uh, wards. When one takes a mistress, the relationship with her existing children can become complex. They are not my blood children but I pay to support them in comfort. It has never suited my mind to explain myself. Maybe it feels disloyal and unloving to deny them in that way.”
She wasn’t convinced by any means. “Yet you were not a constant husband.”
“No, I was not. My wife…” He closed his eyes and shook his head and a smile spread over his sensual, well-shaped mouth. A mouth that could kiss like heaven. “Oh, my wife was not like you.”
He
was, of course, alluding to the time he had spent with her in Alex’s study. Hadn’t her own thoughts drifted there? But to speak of it so openly… and what did he mean that his wife was not like her? Not a harlot like her? A nymph? A houri? Emily’s heart began to beat harder as her blood heated with indignation. “Indeed?”
She tried to pull her hand away but he squeezed it harder and held it. “Now just wait, hear me out—”
“I don’t care to hear more,” she said loudly and pulled harder against his hold. “Let me loose, damn you.”
They had passed under a street lamp just as an older couple did. The lady stared at her and compressed her lips. The couple hurried on a little faster.
“Before you have the watch on me, just hush and listen,” Peter said, humor entering his voice. He released her hand. “I mean to say my wife was a spoiled little princess. A beautiful, cold, blue-blooded young woman. She couldn’t help it. She was raised to believe she was owed everything life could hold. I didn’t mind giving her the world but the marriage bed… well, now, that startled her. It was too earthy for someone who had been raised with her head in the clouds. Yet she dutifully let me sire our children and, for that, once it was done, I left her in peace. There was no fire between us.” He held his hands out and shrugged. “I grew… bored.”
“All gentlemen seem to,” she said in a wary tone.
He laughed softly, his gaze warming. “I couldn’t ever see myself growing bored with you.”
She didn’t feel convinced. “But you will want to travel. You won’t want to—”
“I had intended to travel, yes, but I had also hoped you would accompany me.”
“I shall have confinements.”
He frowned. “You are young and healthy. Your confinements will be short.”
“What if they aren’t?”
“Then I shall stay by your side.” He smiled at her then offered his arm. “Shall we continue? Someone may come and take the kittens and I’d hate to face Betsy’s temper. Have you ever seen it in full force?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, it’s a fearsome sight to behold, believe me.”
She gave him a weak smile and placed her hand into the crook of his arm. They began walking again.
The subject of children in their theoretical marriage seemed closed. An uneasy suspicion settled into her stomach that this kind gentleman’s solicitous overtures might be a sign of a deeper, controlling nature. He might be no different from Alex in that regard. A suffocating sensation centered in her throat. She had no wish to return to living under someone else’s thumb.
“But, honestly,” he said, his breath turned to vapor in the yellow street lantern’s light, “I’d prefer to wait a few years before seeing you so burdened.”
“Oh,” she replied, not certain how to feel about that.
While engaged to Alex, she’d expected they would start their family as soon as possible. Alex’s eagerness for children had equaled, perhaps surpassed, her own. It had never occurred to her that a husband might willfully deny his wife children. But they certainly had the ability, the control over such matters. And Peter had already had his share of fatherhood. If he were truly controlling, he might deny Emily her own children indefinitely. Forever.
“My sister means well but I don’t want my child growing up under her strict sense of propriety. She’s going to break my wild girl. Betsy is so intelligent, so clever. More so than even my son was at her age. Already I can see it, no matter how much it chagrins me. I would really like to send her to school in England—or, better yet, France, if things settle down there. With a little polish, her beauty should bring her an excellent marriage. And her intelligence will allow her to have the upper hand. Her life should be clover.”
Emily’s heart panged. “You would send her so far away?”
“When she is older. It will be for her own good.”
“You sound so settled on it.”
He paused on the sidewalk and turned to her. “Well, that’s because I am, Emily. I want the best for her.”
Coldness settled into her belly. How could any education, no matter how grand, be better for a young girl than being at home with her family? No, Emily couldn’t marry this man any more than she could have married Alex with his desire to turn away from and deny the darker side of life.
Grandmother had been correct about gentlemen. They were creatures with their own narrow view of life and sought to impose that view on those under their care.
She had higher standards for the man who would father her children. If she never found one to match those standards—well, then, she’d just have to remain unwed. She had her art and now she had her commitment to writing the stories of slaves and former slaves. She would show the world the ugly face of slavery, then people would have to do something to put an end to it.
****
Mrs. Webbs greeted them at the back door. Her plump and round-cheeked brown face wore a broad grin. She wiped her hands on her white apron. “Miss Eliot, Mr. Van Moerdijk, what are you doing calling at the servants’ door?”
Emily smiled. “Do you still have kittens?”
“Sure do, five left now.”
“I have been sent to retrieve the black and white one and the gray stripy one.”
Again Mrs. Webbs smiled, flashing strong white teeth against her brown skin. “So, Miss Elizabeth finally made up her mind?”
“Yes, and I am afraid she is quite beside herself with worry that someone else has already taken them home.”
“I knew she’d pick those two, I made sure no one took them,” Mrs. Webbs said.
Peter scoffed. “How could you know that?”
“Ha, Mr. Peter, I am a grandmother twelve times over. I can always tell.”
Emily followed her into the humid, cinnamon-and-apple-scented warmth of the kitchen then sucked in her breath at the sight of Alex’s golden head shining in the firelight. He was deeply engrossed in a conversation with the short, dark-haired François. They were sitting at the large kitchen table, drinking mugs of steaming coffee. At François’ feet, Aimee sat on the floor by the blanket-lined wooden crate that held the kittens. She watched them with large, soft, blue-gray eyes, framed by golden lashes.
Alex turned around, pausing mid-sentence. The pupils of his eyes enlarged.
Emily’s own body froze.
Chapter Ten
As Alex’s gaze continued to pierce into her, Emily’s heart seemed to stall. Peter touched her arm as if he were offering his silent support and brought her back to her senses.
“We’re just here to fetch the kittens for Elizabeth.” Her own words rang stupidly in her ears. Did all those with broken love affaires and engagements feel this awkwardness?
Aimee looked directly at Emily. “Miss Eliot, I am taking the white and orange one with me when we go to Montreal.” Her English was surprisingly good and her eyes were sharp and intelligent. So different from the dark-eyed, placid expressions of her adoptive parents. Emily understood Alex’s panic to get Aimee on her ship to Canada. Anyone who saw the two of them together would know she was his child.
Under the gaze of those clear, blue-gray eyes, Emily felt her chest go tight and her lips quivered as she smiled back at the girl. It was too strange to look into eyes so like Alex’s and to know she was his. The thought that her own child, should she have been married to Alex, might have closely resembled Aimee wiped all ability to think from Emily’s mind.
“We should take two with us when we go,” François said in French.
“Maman said I could only take one,” Aimee said while stroking a tiny orange and white head with her fingertip.
“I will speak with your maman. We must take two so they have each other for company. It will be very cold in Canada.”
A frown creased Aimee’s beautiful face. “Yes, but will they not be living in the house and sleeping near the hearth?”
“Yes, it is so, but they will need company for the long voyage. It is hard to travel withou
t some of one’s own kin present.”
Aimee laughed, turning a smiling face up to François. The man the world knew as her father ruffled Aimee’s hair and the girl’s face suffused with complete love.
Emily’s gaze darted to Alex. His eyes were focused on Aimee and François and there was such pain etched into his face that it stabbed Emily through the heart. In that moment she knew both what Alex had lost and what he sought to retain for the child he had willingly given up for her sake years before.
And she knew, beyond any doubt, that he hadn’t done anything bad. Or if he had, he’d been justified, driven to it. He was the same man she’d fallen in love with. There was nothing wrong with her initial emotional assessment of him. She had allowed her imagination and fear to run away with her. Yet again. She needed to learn to trust her woman’s heart more and her imagination less.
She wanted to go to him and offer him comfort. The need was like a pain in itself. She felt cold and cruel for not having been able to truly understand until this moment.
As if he sensed her gaze, Alex looked at her. His jaw tightened and he turned away, focusing on the fire. His gesture cut into her heart and she caught her breath to smother a gasp.
Peter’s hand tightened on her arm. “Let’s get the kittens and go. If I know Betsy, she won’t sleep a wink until she knows we’ve brought them home.” He laughed softly, smoothing the moment over.
Emily tore her gaze away from Alex. He didn’t want her understanding or anything else from her. He only wanted her silence.
****
“Peter.”
At Alex’s voice, Emily caught her breath even as Peter’s arm muscles tightened under her hand. They were in the servants’ mudroom, where the work boots were lined up and the cloaks hung on hooks, on the way to the back door.
“Go on home, Peter. I want to speak with Emily. I’ll bring her around in an hour or so.”
Peter turned. “It is awfully late for private conversations, Alex, don’t you think?”
“I’ll bring her home within an hour or two.” Alex’s voice was hard and refused denial.
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