Wedding the Widow

by Jenna Jaxon

  “Colin.” Elizabeth leaned down to peer into his belligerent face. “You must not be disrespectful to Lord Robert. He is here tonight as a particular friend of mine.”

  “I don’t care. I don’t want him to take you away.” Colin flung his arms around her.

  “Why do you think Lord Robert would take me away?” She pried him loose from her and stared into his blue eyes. Dickon’s eyes.

  “Because Nurse said so.” He sniffed and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his nightshirt. “I overheard her talking to Meg, the housemaid. That you would be marrying Lord Robert if you knew what was good for you, and going away.” Tears threatened to spill from his glistening eyes.

  She really must speak to her mother about Nurse.

  “But my loves,” Elizabeth said, gathering them into her arms, “it would not be just me. You would come with me. Lord Robert would take us all to live with him in his home.”

  “And leave Grandmama and Grandpapa?” Kate clutched her tighter.

  Casting an apologetic look at Lord Robert, Elizabeth discovered empty air where his lordship had stood but a moment ago.

  “Don’t marry the stiff man, Mama.” Colin squeezed her tighter. “I don’t like him. Why can’t we stay here always?”

  If not for her folly, they could have remained with her parents until the children were older. Until she and Jemmy could marry properly. Now she would never know the joy of playing together with her children and Jemmy. He would have been a wonderful father to all her children. Lord Robert, she feared, would never be a favorite in the nursery. She would have to make it up to the children as best she could. “When a lady marries, she must go live with her husband. I, for one, believe we will all come to like Lord Robert very much as time goes by.”

  Pray God she spoke the truth. “We shall give him a chance and see if things don’t turn out just fine.” Elizabeth smiled brightly and took the two children by the hand to deliver them to their beds. She wasn’t sure which of the three of them needed the most convincing.

  Chapter 22

  “So you have never married, Lord Robert?” Elizabeth sipped her fortifying wine, a delicious Bordeaux now. The white they’d had with the fish was her favorite, but at the moment she wasn’t about to be choosy. The Bordeaux went down smoothly and kept her pleasantly numbed to Lord Robert’s revelations. More and more information had come to light with each course, so she’d found herself imbibing much more frequently than usual during dinner.

  “No, Mrs. Easton, I never did.” Lord Robert ate robustly, but politely paused to answer her.

  Did he have regular meals when he was at home? The man ate like there was no tomorrow. Neither was he a large individual. Where on earth was he putting it all?

  “Are you fond of children? You have nieces and nephews, perhaps?” Hopefully, the man had had some contact with children.

  “Well, I do have many nieces and nephews. My parents had twelve children, and as they got married, of course, they produced ample progeny. However”—their guest paused to savor one of cook’s potatoes a la russe—“I was away at school when most of the girls married and moved to their husband’s houses. My eldest brother, then Lord Sedgewick, married when I was a mere child, so I grew up with his sons. More of a friend to them than an uncle. Two other brothers married but had no issue.”

  Elizabeth shot a glance at her parents, who pretended not to see it.

  “The book you are currently working on, Robert, how is that going?” Her father jumped into the conversation, changing the subject with all the grace of a goose landing on ice.

  “I’ve worked on it for the better part of this year, Wentworth. It’s been slow going, I’m afraid. Too many distractions.” He shook his head sadly as he popped creamed carrots into his mouth.

  Leaning toward him, Elizabeth furrowed her brows into a grim frown. At least, she hoped it was grim. “I wonder if you will be able to work properly with a new family underfoot, my lord.” If she could convince him they would be a noisy bunch, perhaps she could get him to reconsider the marriage. Although she couldn’t begin to imagine what else she would do if she didn’t marry Lord Robert, it was becoming rapidly apparent to her that she truly did not wish to marry him. Perhaps she could retire to one of her father’s country estates.

  “I have given that very question considerable thought, Mrs. Easton.” Lifting his wineglass, Lord Robert nodded gravely at her. “I cannot work unless I have most of the day to myself in the library so I may write and conduct research at will.”

  “You are very dedicated, my lord.” Glee bubbled up within Elizabeth. Her children, while tolerably well behaved, were still children. She opened her eyes wide and innocent, just as she’d watched Georgie do. “Do you not fear my children and myself might distract you from your studies?”

  “That was the question, Mrs. Easton, the very question I had to ask myself when Wentworth here approached me about this business.” Lord Robert smiled at Papa.

  “What conclusion did you arrive at, Lord Robert?” Elizabeth gritted her teeth but smiled anyway.

  “Of course, since I am here, Mrs. Easton, I assumed you understood that I am willing to go through with the marriage.” Startled eyebrows raised first at her, then at her father, Lord Robert leaned over to her father. “Did you not inform her of this, Wentworth?”

  “I most certainly did, Robert.” Papa glared at her. “Perhaps she was having a little joke with you.”

  “I am sorry, Lord Robert, I do understand; however”—she attempted a concerned countenance—“I wanted to make absolutely certain you were prepared for life with small children. They are well behaved, but they are, nevertheless, children. Sometimes noisy children.” If the man was going to take them, by God, she’d make sure he knew exactly what bargain he was getting in exchange for whatever dowry her father must have offered to entice this man to marry her.

  Lord Robert leaned back in his chair, his cravat seeming to relax about his throat. “You are very conscientious, Mrs. Easton. I commend your sense of fairness to assure yourself of my understanding of the situation with your children. Put your conscience at ease, my dear. I have weighed the prospects and believe, almost to a certainty, that I shall be able to manage quite tolerably.”

  “Indeed.” How lovely to know she and her children could be tolerated.

  “Yes, I believe I will be able to work despite the din for the short time before the boy is sent to school. Your father informed me that your son will be at Winchester shortly. Quite a good school. I went to Eton after a series of tutors, then finished at Oxford, where I met your father. I assume your boy will end up there as well. That is satisfactory.”

  “If he goes”—Elizabeth glared at her father—“he will come home for holidays. I’d want him to bring his school chums home as well.” She turned her attention to Lord Robert, who sat transfixed, a spoonful of liver soufflé poised before his mouth.

  “Holidays?” The soufflé quivered.

  “Of course, Colin could come to us for his holidays, couldn’t he, Wentworth?” Her mother broke in smoothly. “Elizabeth and Kate could come as well.” Solution found, her mother beamed about expectantly, a bright smile on her lips. “No need for Lord Robert to be disturbed at all.”

  Lord Robert’s shoulders relaxed, and the soufflé continued into his mouth. “That is a splendid idea, Lady Wentworth, if it will not disoblige you too much. Then the girl would only need a governess to keep her occupied until her come-out; then she would be married and out of the house as well.”

  Opening her mouth to disabuse him of these plans for Kate, Elizabeth got not a word in before her mother hastily rose. “Come, Elizabeth, I am certain your father and Lord Robert have much to discuss over port. I will ring for tea, and we can settle the details of the wedding while we wait for them.” She grasped Elizabeth’s arm with fingers of steel and urged her from the room.

  They made it to the family parlor before Elizabeth exploded. “What are you doing, Mama?” She jerked her arm fr
ee and sailed across the room to stand rubbing her it before the fireplace. She’d likely have a bruise there tomorrow where Mama’s fingers had gripped her so intently.

  “Trying to keep you and this family from ruin.” Mama’s gaze cut her to the quick. “You have presented us with an impossible situation, Elizabeth. Bella’s betrothal, while announced, could still be broken if a scandal of sufficient intensity should taint the family and come to the ears of Lord Haxton. Then there is Dotty to think of, poor thing, who is to come out this Season, if you and your by-blow do not make her unmarriageable.” Mama pulled the bell, flounced over to the chaise, and lowered herself onto it.

  “I did not do this on purpose, Mama. I am perfectly willing to marry Jemmy if you will kindly produce him. He also wishes to marry me. It is the man you angered a lifetime ago who has locked Jemmy up and is forcing him to marry someone else,” Elizabeth shot back, overwhelmed again at the monumental contrariness of life. “You married the man you loved. Why am I not allowed to do the same?” Her chest hurt abominably from unshed tears. “I do not want to marry Lord Robert.”

  “You may not have another choice, Elizabeth.” Mama smiled and nodded as the door opened, her signal always to stop speaking when servants were present. “Tea, please, Tawes.”

  “Very good, my lady.” The butler withdrew.

  Mama’s smile fled. “You chose to dance, my dear, and I am sorry to say, you are going to have to pay the piper a hefty sum.”

  Tears spilled down Elizabeth’s cheeks. How could she marry someone, anyone, who was not Jemmy? “I could go into the country until the child was born. We could place it with someone, somewhere. Anywhere it would be cared for and loved.”

  Rising from her seat, Mama pulled Elizabeth into her arms. “You know that would not be possible. People would find out, Elizabeth. They always do. Then you would be ruined just the same.”

  “They will know anyway. No one is going to believe that I have married Lord Robert because I love him. Nor will anyone with a grain of sense believe I was overcome with a fit of passion for him and bedded him before we were wed. No one will believe this is Lord Robert’s child.” Not one single person would believe the lie. Why, then, tie her forever to a man she did not love?

  They paused a moment while a footman set up the tea things and left.

  “The ton may not believe, but they will accept and forgive because you have done the correct thing. They will not penalize you or your sisters for your folly.” Mama sat her down on the chaise and handed her a handkerchief. “You must try to make the best of the situation you can. Lord Robert does not seem a bad man. Your father speaks very highly of him. And likely he will not mind you traveling to London next year, after the child is born, to spend time with your family. You will miss Bella’s wedding, of course, but it would not do for you to attend and flaunt your condition. Best to remain in the country for some time after the birth. Allow people time to forget exactly when you married. Then they will just say, ‘Oh, it was born in the early autumn,’ and no one will count inconveniently.” Calmly, Mama poured and handed Elizabeth a cup.

  “But what am I to do in the country, Mama? Do you think there is some village near him in whose life I might take part?” Miserable, Elizabeth sipped her tea and almost choked. Hastily, she put the cup down.

  “I am sure there will be some way to fill your time while you are there. The children can occupy much of it, especially with a new baby. When Colin goes to school, it may be harder.” Sighing, Mama tasted her tea, added a lump, and moved on. “You will have Kate and an infant to care for. I am sure as long as they don’t disturb Lord Robert, he will let you keep them with you. As you say, there may be village events—bazaars, charities, that sort of thing—to occupy you.” Doubt clouded Mama’s face. She had never been one to take an interest in the home village at Worth. She’d always persuaded Papa to take them to Brighton after the Season.

  As Elizabeth thought about it, they had not spent three summers together at Worth in all her life.

  “And of course, Lord Robert will let you come to us whenever you wish.”

  Elizabeth tore at the handkerchief, wishing to rip something apart, anything at all. All her sorrow and frustration would disappear if she could tear a hole in time and go back to last summer. She would do so much differently.

  “Dry your eyes, my dear. Your betrothed will be in shortly, and you may not look the eager bride, but you will look pleasant and cordial to him. He is doing us a great favor. We will be forever in his debt.” Handing her a fresh handkerchief, Mama patted her hands before serenely pouring more tea.

  Elizabeth blotted her face, hoping it didn’t look too hideous. She wouldn’t want to turn her betrothed to stone.

  The door opened almost immediately, and Elizabeth straightened up, the semblance of a pleasant smile plastered on her face.

  Deep in conversation with her father, Lord Robert seemed not to notice. He walked absently toward the sofa and sat beside her. “But the translation should have read, ‘We thank you greatly,’ not ‘We thank your Greatness.’ Totally different meaning all together, don’t you know?”

  “How clever of you to have seen the discrepancy, Lord Robert,” Elizabeth said, picking up the thread of the conversation instantly. She smiled and placed her hand on his arm and caught her mother’s approving nod.

  “Not a’tall.” He cleared his throat and looked away.

  This would be a tedious courtship, but mercifully short. The marriage, however, would likely last an eon. “Mama and I were discussing the possibility that I might make myself useful in the local village. Your estate is in . . . ?”

  “South Shropshire. Near the village of Ditton Priors.” His furrowed brows made him resemble a worried beagle. “There may be some charitable work you can do about the parish, but I seldom venture to the village. My studies and the running of the estate itself occupy almost all of my waking hours.”

  “So you do not attend church regularly?” The scope of her new world was shrinking by the minute.

  Lord Robert shook his head. “Got away from it after Oxford. Never seemed enough time for my studies when I was managing Lord Craigmont’s affairs. The only time I had to myself was Sunday mornings, so I took advantage.”

  “But you would have no objection to my taking the children to services each Sunday?” Only once a week, but she’d take the escape it offered her.

  “No, oh no, my dear.” He blinked at her father. “I would not dream of preventing Mrs. Easton from attending worship if she so chooses.”

  “Of course not, Robert. I am sure Elizabeth didn’t mean to imply such a thing.” Papa glared at her, but she stared straight back at him, defiant.

  “No, indeed, Lord Robert. I was merely attempting to define the parameters I may expect once we are . . . wed.” The words almost stuck in her throat, and Elizabeth swallowed convulsively. Could she truly be thinking of doing this? “Do you come to London often, my lord?”

  “Heavens, no.” Lord Robert looked so alarmed at that prospect he shrank from her as though she had said she had the plague. “The journey alone takes two days in good weather. I find all my wants provided for amply on the estate.”

  “You do not come even for the Season, my lord?” The shocked look on Mama’s face made Elizabeth smile to herself. Finally, something about Lord Robert had displeased her.

  “I do not hold a seat in Parliament, nor would I wish one, my lady.” He shuddered. “Therefore, I see no reason for traveling so far. I am only in Town now because of my brother’s funeral.”

  Arching her brows pointedly at her mother, Elizabeth returned her attentions to her suitor. “I am so sorry for your loss, Lord Robert. It must be very difficult to lose one’s brother.”

  A fleeting spasm of grief passed over his face, then Lord Robert shrugged. “I had not seen him in over ten years. Our family, though large, is not close. Still, I did think it my duty to attend the funeral.”

  “Quite the right thing,” her father sa
id, then added, “Brandy, Robert?”

  “Why yes, thank you, Wentworth.” Lord Robert perked up. “Quite a lucky thing to have seen you at White’s right after the funeral. I’d have left Town immediately after, if not for your request. I’m in the midst of a manuscript, a translation of Ovid with some really exciting new interpretations of the works.” His face flushed with the excitement of his work, he took a pull at the brandy, his cheeks turning almost red. “We will leave directly after the wedding, if that is quite convenient for you, Mrs. Easton. I simply must get back to my work, you understand.”

  Gritting her teeth, Elizabeth summoned a smile. “I am sure that can be arranged, Lord Robert.” She narrowed her eyes at her father, who hastily dropped his gaze to his glass. “When do you wish to wed?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “What?” Elizabeth bounded to her feet.

  “That is rather sudden, my lord.” Her mother pulled her back down. “I was hoping you would stay through Christmas with us.”

  The scandalized look on her betrothed’s face almost made Elizabeth chuckle. And Mama looked as put out as she’d ever seen her.

  “At least let us have time to arrange a proper wedding breakfast. It would only be family and some of Elizabeth’s friends, so it would take but a day or two.”

  “I am afraid not, my lady. We must leave for Ditton Priors no later than the day after tomorrow. We will have a day to marry, the wedding night . . .” Lord Robert mumbled the last of that sentence, his face turning bright red to his hairline. “Then we will leave the following morning.”

  “I cannot possibly have everything packed and ready in—”

  “We will see to it, Lord Robert, that Elizabeth is ready to travel day after tomorrow.” Her mother nodded emphatically, daring Elizabeth to contradict her.

  “But the children—” Elizabeth tried to bring the voice of reason to bear on the proceedings, but her mother had the bit in her teeth and would not be gainsaid.