“What happened to the highway man, is none of my concern, seeing as how he was not my highwayman.” She said stiffly. “Who ever he was, he chose to do what he was doing on his own. If he got himself killed doing it, that was his own doing, not mine.”
“Don’t you even care that a man was killed?” he asked, as he slowly stood up. Perhaps she had not enjoyed the Irishman as much as she pretended, he thought angrily to himself. Maybe she was more serious about Herald than she was willing to let on?
“He was a highwayman, for God’s sake, Grange,” she whispered, feeling that she would faint at any moment. But she did not want to give Grange the last laugh. “I didn’t even know him. Had I known him, I wouldn’t have had anything to do with him. Had I had anything to do with him, it still wouldn’t have concerned me. By the way, Grange. I wanted you to be the first to know. Herald has asked me to marry him. I am seriously considering it. Don’t write it up in your rag yet though, until I confirm it.”
Grange stared at her. She didn’t seem to care that the Irishman was dead, he thought. She was announcing her engagement as though the Irishman didn’t even exist. It was all for the thrill of it, she had allowed herself to become so abandoned. “I won’t be writing in my paper for the next couple of months. I am taking a long deserved vacation. I wish you all the happiness with Herald, though. You can inform my assistant of the date, when you set it. He will be taking over my paper while I am away.”
He started to walk across the room from her, and then stumbled. Lavonia took a step towards him, but he righted himself. “I am a little wobbly on my feet this morning. I drank myself under the table last night,” he told her.
That is why he never came home, she fumed, as she watched the butler escort him out. He spent the night getting drunk while she was frantically looking for him! He could go to hell for all she cared, and good riddance!
As soon as Grange was in his carriage, he let out his breath and placed his hand over the wound in his side. He was thankful he had not fainted in front of her. He had almost gotten himself killed for that woman, he thought angrily, and she was twittering about getting married! He could never allow her to discover he had been shot though, or she would discover he had been Irish. Perhaps it was better this way, he thought regrettably. He never should have gotten so embroiled with the girl. He would go away and recover, and by the time he returned home, she would be safely married to Herald, and he could start a new chapter in his life. He just didn’t know how he was going to carry on knowing that Lavonia was making love to some other man, the way she had made love to Irish.
CHAPTER TWELVE
There was no mistaking it! She was going to have a baby. Grange’s baby, she thought with mixed emotions. She would have a part of him, but she did not have a husband, and if Grange ever discovered she was carrying a child, he would know who it belonged to. Or maybe not, if he thought she had been taking Herald on as her lover as well.
The problem was that Herald had returned to where ever he came from, after the highwayman had been shot. Even though he asked her again to marry him, before he left, Lavonia could not bring herself to accept, despite the fact that she had told Grange that was what she planned to do. At the time, she had not realized she was carrying a child, and now it would be too late to accept Herald’s proposal. By the time a wedding was arranged, it would be obvious she was carrying.
She could easily take a long trip, seeing as how she had the money to do it with, but either she would have to give the child up, or bring it back, and everyone would know it was a bastard child if she went away to have it. She could not give the child up, so leaving to bare the burden away from society wouldn’t help her any.
Grange would be coming back eventually. What would he do when he discovered her condition? He would probably deny it ever belonged to him. Everyone knew they were at odds with each other, so even if he knew it was his child, he would never dare claim it, because she had never made love to him. It would mean that he would have to admit to being the Irishman, and she was positive he would never do that. If he did, that would be one more thing to cause her humiliation. She certainly would never accuse him of being the father, or he would know she knew all along that he was Irish.
She knew it wasn’t Max’s child. She didn’t even think he had finished copulating with her before he died.
There was no need to carry on her flirtations. When she started showing, people would know why she fell out of the lime light, and therefore, it was best if she just dropped out of society before anyone discovered her condition. She would entomb herself in the horrible house among the gargoyles and suits of armor. She would take up tapestry or something to keep herself busy. She could practice the piano. She wasn’t very good at it, and it wouldn’t hurt to improve her talent. She could learn to watercolor, like genteel women usually did, if they were not so busy, fighting off men, the way she had been. Running her father’s home had taken up a lot of her time before, but here there was nothing to run, since Mrs. Paddington had it well in hand, and what ever she didn’t do, the servants did.
And then an idea struck her. No one knew when she conceived the child, but herself. It had only been a little over four months since she had married Max. She would just claim it was his child, and no one would be brave enough to challenge her, or have a reason to. Not even Grange would know, because it was not the sort of thing she ever would have divulged to him or the Irishman.
When Mrs. Paddington discovered her condition, no telling what would happen, but she really didn’t care. If she thought she was going to have a grandchild, she may just reconsider the conditions of her will. Lavonia would not have to get married to have someone support her if the old woman relented.
She went and knocked on her mother-in-laws door, for the first time since she had been in the house. “What is it you want?” the old woman asked when she found Lavonia at her door.
“I need to tell you something,” she said, darting her eyes away, and then trying to face the woman. “I believe I am going to have your grandchild.”
“How could you? You were only married for a few mere hours?” the old woman questioned, as she raised her eyebrows at Lavonia.
“It doesn’t take very long to deposit one’s seed within a woman, and your son certainly consummated our marriage. I remember ever horrible moment of it. There is nothing I can do about my condition, so I decided to let you know.”
Mrs. Paddington, sat speechless for a moment. “I never thought I would ever have grandchildren,” she said after a long pause of looking at Lavonia. “Are you sure of your condition?”
“I wouldn’t be telling you about it, if I wasn’t. You think I want to have Max’s child?”
“I suppose you are right. You never pretended to like my son. But this certainly is a turn of events.”
“Well, I will give you time to think about the situation. After all, the child will not be born for several months yet,” Lavonia said lightly, and turned towards the door.
“Yes, this does give me pause to think,” Mrs. Paddington, said quietly.
There, it was done, Lavonia said to herself. There is no turning back now. The old woman would have to at least leave a trust for the child, if nothing else.
A few days later, Mrs. Paddington called Lavonia to her room, and Lavonia was surprised to see a smile on the woman’s face. “I fear we have gotten off on the wrong foot from the beginning,” the old woman said quietly. “I wish to make amends. I have blamed you for my son’s death, but I knew he was forcing you to marry him against your will, and to tell you the truth, I believe that my son cheated at playing cards most of his life. I never approved of his choices in life. Even his first wife was a disaster. You could be right about her killing herself. I often wondered if that is how she died. It was a mysterious death, you understand. But that is in the past now. You are about to bring new life into this house, and I can’t hold a grudge for something you had little control over. So I will accept the fact that you are ab
out to have my grandchild.” She paused, giving Lavonia an opportunity to take in what she had said. “There is so much to do,” she continued. “This is a terribly dreary place to raise a child. You said once that you wanted to tear everything out, when I die. Perhaps I will give you the opportunity to do that very thing before I die. I have so much money, I don’t know what to do with it, but refurbishing this old house and making it brighter, wouldn’t be a bad idea. What do you think?”
“Are you serious?” Lavonia marveled.
“Certainly. I want to become friends with you, in order to enjoy my grandchild better. I have always liked your spunk, if it had not been directed towards me,” she chuckled. “Personally, I probably would have acted in the same way you did, had I been in your place. I do believe we may be peas out of the same pod. It will just take a little adjusting to each other.”
“I cannot believe this,” Lavonia murmured.
“I’m a lonely old woman, and it occurred to me, that you were looking lonely as well. Why should I cast you into my own misery? I lost a son, probably by no fault of your own, and so now all I have left is a daughter to take his place. Since you do not gamble, we may get on famously,” she smiled, and reached out her withered hand to Lavonia.
Slowly, Lavonia took her hand, amazed at the turn of events. “Now when do you want to start?” Mrs. Paddington asked.
Lavonia could thank Grange, or perhaps the Irishman for her sudden good fortune. “Any time you wish,” she responded.
“We will bring in an interior designer, and I will let you pick him out,” her mother-in-law, suggested. “Perhaps you would like to inquire about town to find the best person to do the job. If you can’t find one here that you like, go where ever you wish to hire one.”
“You are giving me that much responsibility?” Lavonia asked almost in awe.
“Dear girl, you are young and full of life. You are better up to the task than I am. Go on. Get dressed and be gone with you,” she chuckled, waving Lavonia out of her room, with a cheery smile. Lavonia could not believe the change that was coming over the woman, merely because she carried life within her. A poor baby that did not have a father. Even a dead father. But it would have a wonderful life, she determined.
Lavonia, dressed in a smart grey suit, sat at the desk of Mr. Lamont, someone recommended to her by Jane’s mother. She knew that Jane’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. Dewberry, had refurbished their home a few years back, and she liked the way it had turned out.
“Do be careful,” Jane whispered to Lavonia. Mr. Lamont sends his son to do a lot of the work, and he is a rake, if every I saw one. Way beneath your notice, but you being a widow, he may suggest something, unconventional, if you know what I mean. The problem is, I have never seen anyone quite as handsome, except perhaps Grange. Why he has not found a wife by now, is beyond me, but I am sure it is because he loves his freedom. He is French you know.”
“Really,” Lavonia smiled, thinking of her French accent of the highwayman. “Perhaps he was one of the highwaymen,” she chuckled. “I heard one of them were French.”
“I heard the French highwayman was a mere lad. This man is no lad, and he is very tall. Marybeth claimed the French highwayman was short and thin.”
“Maybe his younger brother, then,” Lavonia joked.
Now she looked at the aging man who smiled at her on the other side of the desk, and was impressed that he was still so handsome at his age. Perhaps the French aged different than other people, Lavonia smiled to herself.
“I am sure we can accommodate you, Madam,” Mr. Lamont was saying. “I will send Jock out to look over your home and give you some estimates, draw some sketches, show you some material, etc, and let you decide. He will have to work very closely with you, to make sure everything is to your satisfaction,” the man smiled.
“Very good, Mr. Lemont. I have tomorrow free, if he can work it in,” she responded.
“Yes, that will work perfectly,” he agreed.
“My mother-in-law, will have to agree on the price, though, so he will have to present her with the estimates,” she informed him.
She offered her hand, and Mr. Lamont kissed it, bowing his head over it, and then Lavonia removed herself from his office, as he came around and opened the door for her. As she came through the door, she came to an abrupt halt, almost tripping, when she found herself face to face with Grange.
After catching her breath, and trying to calm her heart, she managed to smile. “Grange, I did not know you had returned. And so soon. It has only been a month, has it not?”
“I was getting bored,” he said letting his eyes take her in. His wound had healed quicker than anyone expected, and his mind had been tortured by memories of Lavonia. The woman had a certain glow to her now, he thought. “How have you been, Lavonia?” he asked, taking her small hand in his and kissing it.
“I am doing fine,” she murmured.
“Marybeth tells me you never got married. Did the man cry off?”
“No, I decided not to accept him. I don’t fancy being married to a guard, in spite of how enjoyable it was sharing his company while he was underfoot.”
“So still the unattached spinster out to break all the men’s hearts?” he chuckled.
“I have put away my flirting. I have not told society yet, but you might as well know, I am expecting Max’s baby. He takes me one time, and what do you know, a little one is on the way now.”
Grange’s eyes narrowed. “Is that so?” he almost whispered. “And how long have you known this?”
“Long enough to be certain. I have never carried a baby before, so it took awhile for it to dawn on me. Therefore, I do not believe that I am in a position to flirt, or do much of anything with the gentry, for the next several months, and then some.”
“Actually, I was going to call on you. Could we walk a bit? I want to talk to you.”
“Very well, if you insist,” she said, trying to maintain her calm. Now what did he want?
Grange took her hand and put it through his elbow, holding on to her hand as they strolled along the walk. “I have had a month to think about things. My life. My ambitions. My future. You told me once that if I ever asked you to marry me again, you would accept. So I am asking you now.”
Lavonia stopped short. “You are asking me to marry you? But why ever have you changed your mind? I will be having a baby. Certainly you would not want to burden yourself with someone else’s child.” He thinks the baby is his, she told herself. That was the only reason she could come up with, him wanting to marry her, but she would never admit it to him, she vowed.
“Because, heaven help me, Lavonia, I like you. You always brought excitement into my life, even in your rejection of me. You need a husband, and especially now if you are carrying a child. Any condition you put on the marriage, I will be willing to accept. Just being in your company entertains me. I know you are headstrong, and stubborn, and I may regret it in the end, but right now, I regret not taking you up on your offer, when you gave it to me,” he rambled, as he looked down into her eyes, hoping he wasn’t making a mess of things.
“What has made you do such a turn around?” she asked, not trusting him.
“Something happened to me. Something very devastating which may have caused me to lose my life, and I thought of how much life I had wasted. I just didn’t want to waste any more of my life. You said you needed a husband to support you, and I realized, I wouldn’t mind being that person, after all. You have to agree that there is never a dull moment, when we are together.”
“But I don’t need a husband to support me now, Grange. Mrs. Paddington has relented, since she learned of me carrying her grandchild. I just came from the designers office. She is allowing me to revamp the whole house. Can you believe it, Grange? She actually claims she likes me.”
“I see,” he said quietly. “Then you won’t consider my offer?”
“I don’t think you are being honest with me, Grange. You have always led me on a merry chase wi
th your treatment of me. I never know when to believe what you say or write. You kept accusing me of sending out the highwayman. You even blamed me for his death. That was a horrible thing to do, Grange, making me feel guilty for something I never wanted to happen to anyone. I had not intended to……” she stopped. “I don’t even know who you are, Grange. Perhaps I have never known you. I had a lover, did you know that? Of course you did, you accused me of it constantly. You were the one who kept insisting I find a lover. You were right about me knowing the highwayman, well at least one of them. I loved the Irish highwayman, and now he is dead, and you came and accused me for causing his death. For all I know, this child I am carrying could be his, but it really doesn’t matter. Everyone will be told it is Max’s child. I don’t think I can forgive you for blaming his death on me, Grange. It’s the highwayman I would have married, if he had asked me. Never you!”
She turned and walked back to her buggy alone, as Grange stared after her. “That should put him in his place, she laughed to herself. He had tried to bring her pain, and now he offers her marriage? Why did he really want her to accept him, she wondered? But she was not going to fall into his hands again. He would have to find someone else to bamboozle instead of her. Now he would think the child could be his, but he would never be sure, and would never admit it could be his, or he would also have to admit he had been the Irishman.
Grange stood watching Lavonia climb up in her buggy. He should have gone with her and helped her up, but he was stunned to learn that she had actually loved the Irishman. Only now if he admitted to being the Irishman, she would hate him even more, for having played the game with her in the first place. The child she carried had to be his, he thought angrily, but the only way to claim it was to give himself up as the Irishman, and considering that Lavonia already had enough reasons to hate him, what good would it do to admit it? She still wouldn’t marry him, and probably deny that she had ever loved Irish. He had risked his life for nothing. However, the one saving grace was that Lavonia no longer rode her stallion at midnight, so he didn’t have to worry about her well being any longer.
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