Laura Matthews

by A Very Proper Widow

  “I’m sure Paul Burford does.”

  “Yes, well, that’s where it’s confusing, I suppose. I don’t regard him in the same way I do you.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” His voice was gruff and he reached down to pick up his riding crop. “But if you decided not to marry me, any intimate contact we had would embarrass you, my dear.”

  “No, it wouldn’t,” she retorted, walking to her mare and turning to watch his expression. “It would be something I would treasure, James, something I would look back on with wonder and pleasure. One of my memories to store up against the empty nights. I’m sorry if that upsets you, but it’s how I feel. I’ve had to learn to be proud of my accomplishments here, even when they seemed sometimes to be at the expense of my womanhood. It’s only fair I should be allowed some pride in my womanhood itself.”

  “For God’s sake, Vanessa, nothing you’ve done here makes you less of a woman. You’ve done what you had to, and you’ve done it well.”

  Her faint smile didn’t warm her eyes. “You don’t quite understand, James. I’m not the same person I was when I married Frederick. Then I thought of myself as a woman, with a woman’s obligations, and a woman’s second-place role. I don’t feel that way any longer. I’ve had all the aggravation and few of the rewards from taking a first-place role, but I can never revert to my former position.”

  She eyed him shrewdly as he came to stand beside her. “I think perhaps that’s why you left Cutsdean without speaking to me, and why, later, when you’d been able to block out some of the memory of my abrasive independence, you wrote such a casual letter. You were pretending to yourself that I was no different than other women. But I am, James, and I think it’s something you haven’t come to terms with yet.”

  Alvescot didn’t know how to respond. In some ways he even thought she might be right. He had managed to forget that she expressed herself so strongly and acted so forcefully. Not imperiously, like his aunt Damery, but with a different sort of personal dignity, an air of assurance that one seldom saw in a woman when she was in company with a man. He could call to mind several occasions on which she had insisted on her right to control events at Cutsdean when he had offered to release her from the burden. Had he fallen in love with her because of, or in spite of, this attribute?

  Though he continued to hold her gaze, Vanessa could tell that he was abstracted. With a smile she asked, “Will you hand me up, James? I’m afraid I haven’t the height to mount by myself.”

  “But you would if you could,” he said, trying to make his tone teasing.

  “Precisely.”

  He made a foot hold with his hands and she swung herself gracefully into the saddle. Vanessa arranged the folds of blue cloth to a comfortable position as he mounted. But neither of them made any move to urge their horses forward. As they sat regarding one another, she impulsively reached out and touched his hand. “I haven’t been totally honest with you, either, James. I’m more than fond of you. My whole being longs to be with you, but it may not be the right thing to do. Can you accept that?”

  “In principle, my dear,” he said softly, covering her hand. “But in practice it seems foolish and wasteful. I’m sure we could work out any differences between us. I admire what you’ve done here; I’ve told you that before. And I think, Vanessa, that as much as you’ve accomplished, it doesn’t make your life feel complete. You told me you were lonely, and yet you have the children and Paul Burford’s friendship. You want a man to share your love with, and forge that bond which gives strength and purpose to an otherwise unintelligible existence. Even the strongest among us need the replenishment that having someone love us gives. I won’t try to change you, and I don’t think you would try to change me. Society’s conventions needn’t apply to us in our private lives.”

  “But they will in our public lives, James, and you cannot help but lead a public life. Your friends would think me a very strange sort of woman.”

  “They would think you adorable . . . and a trifle eccentric, perhaps,” he admitted with a grin. “Promise me you won’t reject my offer out of hand, Vanessa. Think about it.”

  “I will if you will, my dear. I don’t want it to be easier for you to love me from a distance.”

  Alvescot realized she was wholly serious about this request, and though at the moment he was feeling it wouldn’t be possible to love her any more than he did right then, he said, “I will, but don’t expect me to change my mind.”

  “I just want you to feel you can,” she replied, finally removing her hand and urging the mare forward.

  * * * *

  All through dinner Alvescot thought about what she’d said, since Hortense would not deign to speak with him and Louisa politely but firmly indicated she would rather not, given William’s scowling face on her other side. Mabel, fortunately, wasn’t close enough to distract him and Edward hadn’t bothered to come to dinner at all.

  Down the length of the table Vanessa smiled at him frequently, the old rueful gleam in her eyes. He remembered the first night he’d sat there, thinking that Vanessa was in need of male guidance. As it turned out, she was in need of no guidance at all and he tried to analyze whether that bothered him. There was a certain self-esteem to be gained from a woman’s dependence on a man’s opinion, of course, but look how ridiculous William and Louisa made such an exchange seem. Where neither opinion carried any weight, talk of guidance was nonsense, and where vanity demanded a flattering degree of attention, it was a hollow sort of victory.

  Alvescot knew Vanessa would accord his opinions a proper respect, and what she asked in return was a similar understanding. Not, perhaps, the rule of the day, but an entirely logical arrangement between two intelligent and capable people. Now he came to think of it, he wasn’t at all sure he would be comfortable with a subservient, dutiful wife. Earning your bolstered ego at someone else’s expense was not exactly his idea of an honest way to conduct affairs. A comfortable wife started to look like the worst possible type of woman he could choose!

  When the ladies left them alone, he and William eyed each other with a marked lack of enthusiasm. Alvescot took a sip from his glass and settled back in his chair, saying, “I understand you’ve spent some time in London, Oldcastle. Was it pleasant?”

  “Reasonably,” William muttered. “I thought you were settled in Sussex.”

  “I have been, but I became worried when I didn’t hear from Mrs. Damery. As it happens, she had a shoulder injury which prevented her from writing.”

  William threw him a startled glance. “I didn’t hear anything of an injury. How did she sustain it?”

  “Rescuing little John. Apparently his pony ran away with him.”

  “Was Edward anywhere around?” William asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Might have known. That man is a hazard.”

  “Fortunately, he will be leaving tomorrow. Permanently, I believe, for the Continent.” Alvescot didn’t find it necessary to inform him that the older Curtiss was alive and running a gambling establishment. It was not the sort of encouragement William needed.

  “Oh? I hadn’t heard that. His sister didn’t mention it.”

  “I don’t believe she knows yet. Edward can be rather secretive.”

  “Permanently, you say? He won’t be coming back to England?”

  “I shouldn’t think so. It’s a matter of a business opportunity.”

  “Something illegal, or I miss my bet,” William snorted. “The man has no character.” But the idea caught his imagination. Alvescot could tell by the way he pursed his lips and stared at the amber fluid in his glass, oblivious to the earl’s presence. After a while, when he didn’t say anything, Alvescot suggested they join the ladies.

  Chapter Nineteen

  It had been a long evening, Alvescot decided as he slipped into his nightshirt and extinguished the candle by his bed. Louisa had played, and played, and played—at her mother’s request. Alvescot had sat with Vanessa on the sofa despite Mabel’s attempts to
divert him. This had encouraged William, but Mabel had made sure he didn’t get close enough to Louisa to have a private word with her. They both played at cards with the two older women, and exchanged wistful glances, but at the end of the evening Mabel rushed her daughter off to her room with hardly a nod in William’s direction.

  She had said, “I expect you will be leaving early,” to poor Oldcastle.

  Lord, the woman doesn’t know when she’s well off, Alvescot thought as he climbed into the luxurious bed with its lovely needlework hangings. He had tried to make it as evident as possible that his interest was in Vanessa and not Louisa, but Mabel persisted in her folly. And Edward. Edward had returned and followed him up the stairs so closely Alvescot had felt hounded. The young man had grumbled at only fifty pounds in cash, and took the bank draft for the remainder with a long-suffering groan. Alvescot had felt like snatching back the paper and ripping it to shreds before Edward’s eyes.

  For some time he lay there in the dark considering various methods of convincing Vanessa to marry him. It might be possible to speak with the children, but he thought she wouldn’t be pleased with that. If she wanted to speak with them, she would do it herself. Perhaps already had, when she had left for a while to say good-night to them.

  He had just settled himself for sleep when he heard the knob of his door turn. His first thought was a rather wondering joy that Vanessa would come to him like this and his body responded accordingly.

  “William?”

  Oh, for God’s sake, he shuddered under the covers. She had let herself through the door and was carrying a candle which glowed warmly on her nakedness. Not again! “This is not William’s room,” he said firmly.

  “But it must be!” Louisa exclaimed, a catch in her voice. “I made very sure I had the direction right this time. I counted how many steps it was from my room in broad daylight. I could not be mistaken.”

  “William has the Blue Velvet room this time. I have the Chinese Chippendale.”

  “No one said!” The candle swung crazily as she tossed her hands about in despair. “I don’t know where the Blue Velvet room is.”

  Sighing, Alvescot threw his feet over the side of the bed and rose. “Why don’t you at least wear something on your way to his room?” he asked in exasperation. “Lord, Louisa, you’re going to catch your death of cold.”

  “I don’t think you can have anything on and still be considered in a Compromising Position,” she informed him, almost sternly. “They did say ‘not fully clothed,’ but how is one to know just how much clothing one may wear and still have it right? I don’t want to take any chances.”

  He pulled a blanket from the bed as she spoke and now approached to drape it about her shoulders. “I’ll see you back to your room.”

  “No! I shan’t go to my room! Don’t you see? This is the only opportunity I will ever have. He’s going to go away tomorrow and I won’t ever see him again. It’s not fair,” she wailed. “Just tell me where the Blue Velvet room is.”

  Alvescot was torn. In order to avoid a minor scandal, he really should see her back to her own room, but he could understand her despair. Mabel was too blind to know where her own benefit lay, and he had promised Louisa some time ago that he would do what he could to promote her happiness with William. The Blue Velvet room was only two doors down the hall. Really, one shouldn’t be put in this sort of position in a well-run household.

  “All right,” he said at length. “But, Louisa, you don’t have to go to him naked. I’m sure simply talking to him is all you need to do to set aside any misunderstanding. It’s obvious he’s fond of you, and I should think all you have to do is let him know your sentiments and everything will work out to your satisfaction.”

  “My mother wouldn’t accept it if we simply decided to get married. Surely you can see that! No, we have to be found in a Compromising Position so we have to get married.”

  “And who’s going to find you in a compromising position in William’s room?” he demanded. “People don’t just walk in there in the middle of night.”

  This problem had never occurred to her. It had seemed enough to engineer the situation without actually deciding who would be the one to discover them. “Well,” she said, the candle wavering in her hand, “I shall just have to scream or something to bring one of the servants.”

  Alvescot groaned. “You can’t do that. Surely you don’t want one of the servants walking in on you naked, Louisa.”

  “Hmm. Well, then it will have to be you, Lord Alvescot. That can’t do any harm. You’ve already seen me naked.”

  “Never! What excuse would I have for barging into William’s room at this time of night?” he demanded, feeling slightly unnerved. “Listen to me, Louisa. You’re of age. All you have to do is talk to William. I’m sure he wants to marry you, and then you simply marry him. Mabel can’t stand in your way.”

  In the urgency of their discussion they hadn’t bothered to lower their voices. Now there was an inarticulate roar from the hall and Alvescot’s door was flung open, just grazing past Louisa, but catching the blanket as it passed to slam against the wall. Louisa was once again left in all her blond nakedness staring in surprise at a fully clothed and frothing William.

  “I knew it!” he yelped. “I knew it! I knew I would find you here! For shame, Louisa! I had thought you had more propriety. To think I ever considered making you my wife. I cringe to contemplate it!”

  His histrionics were not carried on in a low voice and Alvescot attempted to hush him, to close the door, and to cover Louisa all at the same time. Louisa had burst into tears and was not the least concerned about her natural state. She shrugged off the corner of the blanket Alvescot had managed to toss over her shoulder and gasped, “You don’t understand, William.”

  “I understand. There is nothing wrong with my understanding.” His pompous stance was marred by his widening eyes as he at last seemed to realize she was completely naked. He tried not to look at her, he struggled to keep his eyes on her face, but they refused to obey his split inclinations. “My God!” he breathed, unaware he had spoken.

  “I meant to come to you,” she explained earnestly. “I thought you had the Chinese Chippendale bedroom as you did when you were here before. How was I to know Vanessa had given it to Lord Alvescot?”

  Mention of the earl’s name revived all William’s outrage. “Cad!” he cried. “Bounder! Seducer of innocents! And in a respectable household! How dare you? I shall gouge out your eyes! I shall slit your throat! I shall break your arms and hack off your legs!”

  “Oh, William,” Louisa giggled, “don’t be absurd. Lord Alvescot was just bringing me to your room.”

  “My room! Is that the way it’s done in your circles, my lord?” he asked, overflowing with contempt. “Taking pure young innocents and passing them from man to man? You deserve to be hung!”

  Alvescot could hear hurrying footsteps in the hall now and he gave a resigned sigh. In a moment Vanessa appeared in the doorway, taking in the scene with perplexed and sleepy eyes. “What has happened?” she demanded.

  They all attempted to answer her at once, but Alvescot, strained now beyond endurance by her arrival, rudely told his two companions to be still. Then, making one final attempt to settle the blanket about Louisa’s shoulders, he said, “Miss Curtiss mistook her direction. She was seeking Mr. Oldcastle’s room and assumed him to be in this room, as he was on his previous stay. Being unable to gain his attention any other way, she had resolved to place the two of them in a compromising position so they would have to be married. As she didn’t know how much clothing a delicately nurtured young woman must remove in order to be compromised, she arrived naked, just to be on the safe side, you understand.” His eyes held Vanessa’s for a long moment, during which her lips began to twitch. “Just so,” he murmured.

  William had been forced to listen to this recital, but he didn’t have to believe it. He was tempted not to believe it, but he found it such a flattering, attractive idea, that
he chose to accept it as truth. “Did you really?” he asked, eyes wide with admiration. “You wanted to marry me that much?”

  “Yes,” Louisa replied, her eyes now shyly dropped.

  “Well, I say, it wasn’t exactly a proper thing to do, you know,” he informed her judiciously, “but you meant well. Actually, it wasn’t proper of me to go to your room tonight, either, but dash it all, Louisa, there’s no getting past your dragon of a mother.”

  “You went to my room?”

  “Ah, yes. But I had no intention of seducing you!” he assured her. “I thought we would just have a moment to talk alone, don’t you know. Without Mabel and Alvescot and the lot of them hanging around. But you weren’t there.”

  “No.”

  “So I was going back to my room, thinking Mabel had locked you away somewhere, when I heard your voice coming from here. I was that angry! Yes, well, you know about all that.”

  Vanessa interrupted their exchange, which stood some chance of continuing for quite a while, by suggesting, “Why don’t you both go along to Louisa’s room to talk? It’s not fair to keep Lord Alvescot from his rest.”

  Obediently they wandered out into the hall together, hardly aware of the other two. Louisa tripped on the dragging blanket and William solicitously rearranged it about her shoulders. Vanessa watched until they were out of sight, then turned to say to Alvescot, “I’m sorry about that. It must have been rather embarrassing.”

  “I’m no more easily embarrassed than you are, my dear,” he retorted, “and it’s not the first time it’s happened.”

  “It isn’t?”

  “No. Louisa came wandering into my room the last time I was here, when I had that little closet, you remember.”

  “I remember,” she laughed. “Was she looking for William then?”