A Family for the Widowed Governess

by Ann Lethbridge

  She bent forward and kissed his lips.

  He pulled her down and held her close, kissing until she could not breathe.

  To the sound of applause, they broke apart.

  He groaned. There on the bank, across the water, stood everyone who lived and worked at Bedwell Hall.

  ‘Your eldest daughter is looking very pleased with herself,’ Marguerite said.

  ‘And so she should. She reminded me of something you said that gave me the courage to do this today—she said you told her, if you do not put your feelings into words how can the other person know what is in your heart.’

  ‘Oh, my, I did say that, did I not? But I can assure you I was not talking about you and me.’

  He looked smug. ‘No, but I was.’

  She gave him a fond smile. ‘And you are right.’

  He chucked her under the chin. ‘No, my dearest darling, we are right.’

  She sighed with happiness. ‘So we are.’

  ‘Come, let us go back to the party. We have provided enough entertainment for one day.’

  She pulled his head down and kissed him hard. When she was done she smiled up at him with a satisfied smile. ‘Now we have done enough. Let us go bid farewell to Nanny and announce our news.’

  Hand in hand they wandered back to the punt.

  Epilogue

  The Bedwell Hall music room resounded with happy chatter as the wedding guests followed Marguerite and her now lawfully wedded husband to the dining room, where a wedding breakfast awaited them.

  She and Jack had decided to hold the wedding by special licence and invite only family, since they had both been married before and neither of them wanted to wait a moment longer to enter the state of wedded bliss.

  At the entrance to the dining room they halted and turned to greet their guests as they passed in.

  Her sisters and their husbands were the first to offer their congratulations.

  ‘I am so happy for you, lass,’ Carrie said, whose hug was somewhat hampered by a little bulge at her waistline.

  ‘I am delighted you had the courage to travel in your condition,’ Marguerite said.

  Carrie beamed up at her handsome husband. Though she was tall for a woman, her husband was taller. ‘Avery was a little nervous, but knowing how important my sisters are to me, he put up only a little bit of an argument.’

  Avery winked. ‘I had the ducal coachmaker adjust the springs and install extra cushions.’

  ‘Let me tell you, I am lucky I did not have to share the coach with a doctor and a midwife,’ Carrie grumbled good-naturedly.

  ‘My dear, you wrong me,’ Avery said with a twinkle in his eye. ‘They have their own coach and followed behind.’

  Carrie greeted Jack with a hug and a kiss.

  Avery leaned forward and kissed Marguerite on the cheek. ‘Congratulations, dear sister-in-law. You picked a fine man. I have never seen you so happy.’ He moved on.

  She was. Oh, she really was. She glanced at Jack, who was now shaking hands with Avery. He looked so handsome in his wedding clothes.

  All the worries she had experienced the day before, the doubts and the fears, had flown out of the window the moment they said their vows. She loved Jack and she knew, without a doubt, that he loved her.

  He caught her glance and smiled. Contentment shone from his eyes. Yes, it had taken courage, on both their parts, but they had made the right choice.

  ‘You look lovely, Marguerite,’ Petra said. ‘And clearly you are deliriously happy. I know, because I am deliriously happy, too.’

  She and Ethan had returned from Bath the moment Marguerite had written to tell them the news of her impending marriage. Petra had insisted that Marguerite move in with them for the three days it took to obtain the special licence and had rallied the ladies in Westram village to help make her a wedding gown in a lovely shade of ivory sewn with pearls.

  Deliriously happy. Yes, she was. Something she had never expected.

  ‘Congratulations, my dear,’ Ethan said and kissed her with military precision on both cheeks, something he must have learned during his time on the Continent.

  They, too, moved on and then it was Red’s turn. Her brother looked different to the last time she had seen him. As if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. ‘Red,’ she said and he pulled her close and hugged her.

  ‘You picked a good man this time,’ he said quietly in her ear.

  ‘I did not pick the last one,’ she said. ‘Father did.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’ He stepped back. ‘I warned him against Saxby, but it fell on deaf ears. I’m afraid the man was a bit of a bounder.’

  Red did not know the half of it. But it was all in the past and she was so looking forward to her future.

  He moved on to shake hands with Jack as she greeted the vicar. ‘Thank you for a lovely service,’ she said to him.

  ‘My very great pleasure,’ said the Reverend Purvis.

  Last but not least came her daughters—Lizzie, Janey and Netty—dressed in their prettiest dresses and their faces shining both with the soap and water Lucy must have used to make sure they looked their best and with excitement.

  ‘Mother?’ Lizzie said hesitantly.

  Marguerite bent and opened her arms to all of them. ‘Daughters,’ she said and gave each of them a kiss. They walked into the dining room together. The children were to eat with the grown-ups for once and were seated alongside her and Jack.

  When everyone had found their places, Red rose to his feet. ‘To the happy couple, Marguerite and Jack.’

  The guests rose and lifted their glasses. ‘Marguerite and Jack.’

  ‘Mother and Father,’ Lizzie said and everyone chuckled and resumed their seats.

  The sound of happy voices and the chink of cutlery against china filled the room. While the food looked delicious, Marguerite could not eat a bite. Her heart was far too full to have room for anything else.

  ‘Where are you going for your honeymoon?’ Carrie asked.

  ‘Bedwell Hall,’ she and Jack answered together. Neither of them had wanted to leave the girls right after the wedding, much to their daughters’ relief.

  ‘It is a lovely house,’ Carrie said. ‘The park, what I have seen of it, is beautiful.’

  ‘It is,’ Marguerite said.

  ‘The next time you are here, I would be pleased to give you a tour,’ Jack said. ‘And you are all welcome to visit whenever you wish.’

  The butler left his post behind Jack’s chair to speak with a footman who had appeared in the doorway to the kitchens. The butler frowned and shook his head.

  The footman handed him a card. Laughton’s mouth pursed, then he nodded. He crossed the room and spoke quietly in Jack’s ear. ‘There is a gentleman here. An officer. He is anxious to speak to Lord Westram. He followed him all the way from Gloucestershire, having missed him there.’

  ‘Westram,’ Jack said. ‘You have a visitor. Apparently, the matter is urgent. My butler will show you to the drawing room.’

  Looking puzzled and slightly worried, Red followed the butler out of the room.

  The conversation lulled.

  ‘I am sure it is nothing,’ Marguerite said brightly. ‘Tell me, Petra, how was your visit to Bath?’

  Petra beamed. ‘You have never seen such a set of quizzes in your life. And every one of them a friend to Ethan’s aunt. The old dear was very happy to see us, and showed us off as if we were royalty.’

  Red came back into the room, looking stunned.

  ‘What is it?’ Jack said. ‘Bad news.’

  ‘I—Not bad news. But it is news my sisters should hear. In private.’

  ‘Whatever it is, I would rather Jack hear it, too,’ Marguerite said.

  The other sisters agreed with regard to their husbands.

  ‘Laughton, give u
s the room, please,’ Jack said. ‘Miss Ladbrooke and Lucy, please take the children to the nursery.’

  Lizzie gave him a dark look.

  ‘Lizzie,’ Marguerite said. ‘If this is something that has import for you and your sisters, I will tell you. I promise.’

  After a moment of hesitation, Lizzie dipped a curtsy and left with the others.

  Red came to stand beside Jack at the head of the table. ‘The officer I met with just now has news of Jonathan, my brother, and his two friends, Harry Davenport and Neville Saxby.’

  Marguerite felt the blood rush from her head. Why now? Why did his name have to come up now when she had thought she could at last be happy?

  Jack rose and came around behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders, steadying her. She took a deep breath.

  Red looked down at the note and then glanced around the table. ‘This note was written by my brother shortly before he was killed. It was found in the pocket of his coat which had been stolen from him by a French soldier after his death. It surfaced when the man was captured recently.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Jonathan was my brother and while he made some mistakes, he had sworn to do better and I believed him. It was why I encouraged his marriage to Carrie. Honestly, I never understood why he left right after the ceremony.’ He turned to look at Carrie and then at Marguerite. ‘Apparently, he and Harry were on their way into the church when he saw Neville strike Marguerite.’

  Marguerite gasped. She remembered. She’d been late because she’d torn a flounce on her gown and he’d been furious. He’d punched her in the middle of her back as she had got out of the coach. He had been very good at leaving bruises where they wouldn’t be seen.

  Red’s hand shook as he glanced down at the paper. He looked up at his sister. ‘Harry told Jonathan it wasn’t the first time he’d seen Neville strike you.’ His face was full of pain. ‘You should have told me.’

  Marguerite felt the blood drain from her face. ‘What could you have done?’

  Red’s lips went white. ‘I would have done something. Anyway, Jonathan went for Neville’s throat right after the ceremony and the coward ran off. Jonathan could not let it go. He went in pursuit. Harry went after Jonathan, to help bring the scoundrel back and to prevent Jonathan from committing murder. To cut a long story short, Harry and Jonathan followed Neville all the way to the battle front, intending to have it out with him. Jonathan wrote this note in Dover, explaining his departure, but for some reason, never posted it.’

  Carrie put a hand to her throat. ‘I thought he ran off because he never wanted to marry me in the first place.’

  ‘Apparently, the man wasn’t such a fool after all,’ Avery said drily.

  ‘Well, I have to say I resented him a good deal at the time,’ Carrie said. ‘But it resulted in great happiness for me.’

  ‘And me,’ Petra said, giving her husband a speaking glance. ‘Chasing after Jonathan without a word to anyone was just the sort of thing Harry would do. He never gave a thought for anyone but his friends.’

  ‘If anyone was to blame, it is Neville,’ Marguerite said. ‘He was an awful man.’

  Jack put an arm around her waist and brought her to her feet. He held her close and she felt protected and safe.

  That was who Jack was. A man who protected those he loved.

  Avery pulled Carrie close and Ethan put an arm around Petra’s shoulders.

  They all looked at Red, who looked devastated. He straightened his shoulders. ‘Perhaps if I had seen what was happening to Marguerite, their deaths might have been avoided. But I did not.’ He looked at his sisters, his eyes full of anguish. ‘I see you are happy. I am happy for you, I truly am, but I think I need some time alone.’

  ‘Red,’ Marguerite said, knowing her brother only too well. ‘Please. Do not blame yourself.’

  He looked at her starkly. ‘If not me, then who?’

  He left before anyone could speak.

  ‘He’ll come around,’ Avery said. ‘He needs time. Meanwhile, this is a happy occasion and we will not allow the past to spoil it.’

  Marguerite looked at Jack. ‘The past cannot spoil the joy of the present.’

  ‘A toast,’ Ethan said. ‘To the future.’

  The six of them formed a circle and put their arms around each other. ‘The future.’

  ‘And happiness for all,’ Marguerite said.

  ‘Happiness for all,’ they said in unison.

  ‘Including Red,’ Petra said softly.

  The group broke apart and Ethan’s carriage was called for. Carrie and Avery were to stay with Petra and Ethan overnight. Jack and Marguerite waved them off.

  * * *

  Finally alone with his wife in his bedroom, Jack held her close and kissed her deeply. ‘Happy, Wife?’ he asked when they finally broke apart.

  ‘I have never been happier in my life,’ Marguerite answered and the joy in her eyes was a pleasure to behold. ‘I feel as if I have been given the chance to start my life anew. It is not many people who are so fortunate.’

  ‘I know. I am the luckiest man alive to have won you for my wife,’ he said, his heart so full, it felt as if it might actually be too large for his chest.

  She glanced at the bed. ‘I know it is early, my darling, but do you think there might be time...?’

  He grinned like a naughty boy. ‘I think we might have all the time in the world, my dearest Marguerite.’

  She smiled as he pulled her close and nuzzled against her throat.

  * * *

  If you enjoyed this story,

  check out the other books in

  The Widows of Westram miniseries:

  A Lord for the Wallflower Widow

  An Earl for the Shy Widow

  And why not check out these other

  great reads by Ann Lethbridge?

  An Innocent Maid for the Duke

  Rescued by the Earl’s Vows

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Reunited with Her Viscount Protector by Mary Brendan.

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  Reunited with Her Viscount Protector

  by Mary Brendan

  Chapter One

  ‘You little scamp! Come back here!’

  Mrs Fenton picked up her lavender skirts and chased the shrieking child on to the pathway. She soon caught up with him and hoisted him off his feet in a cuddle. ‘You are far too nimble for me. You win again, Master Bernard.’ She placed a kiss on his soft cheek.
>
  ‘Oh, stop it, Bernie. You will tire poor Auntie Dawn out and she won’t come again to play with you,’ the Countess of Houndsmere said, issuing a warning to her giggling son.

  ‘Of course I will come. I love our games, don’t I, Bernie?’ Dawn put the wriggling child back on to the flagstones.

  After his game of chase, Master Bernard still had plenty of energy; his godmother, however, was holding the stitch in her side and fanning herself with a hand. The boy immediately dashed off to throw a ball across the emerald lawn for two wolfhound puppies to squabble over. Dawn strolled over to sit with her friend in the shade and have a well-earned rest.

  A table and chairs had been set up under the dipping broad boughs of a magnificent plane tree in the grounds of a mansion in Grosvenor Square. Upon the table was the finest rose-patterned porcelain and a tray upon which reposed silverware for making tea. Two maids hovered close by. They attended to refreshments and to tilt parasols this way and that to ensure the ladies were shielded from any rogue sunbeams infiltrating the whispering greenery.

  Dawn sat down next to the Countess, who was cooling her pink cheeks with a fan of ivory and lace. Leaning closer to her friend, Dawn benefited from some wafted air.

  ‘You make me feel very old, Dawn. I wish I could still charge about like that,’ Emma complained, whipping the fan to and fro with increased vigour.

  ‘You can, my dear...just not while you are carrying a baby. And as I am the elder of us by two months, please never again mention our advancing years or I will feel quite miserable.’ Dawn sat back comfortably, then took her friend’s hand in hers, giving her a cheeky smile. ‘Come, we are neither of us yet in our dotage, Em, at the grand age of twenty-nine.’

  ‘I feel quite ancient sometimes, you know, when my back aches.’ Emma shifted on the seat as her unborn child made its presence known by giving her a kick.

  ‘When you are rocking your new babe you will forget you ever had these twinges.’ Dawn sighed. ‘I wish I could take my godson home with me. I love having Bernie’s company. You are so lucky to have such a handsome son and another little one on the way.’ She smoothed a hand over the small bump beneath her friend’s silk gown. ‘Girl or boy...what do you think?’