Wedding the Widow

by Jenna Jaxon

  Before he had gotten too far, Elizabeth called to him. “I think I’ve found it, Jemmy.” She pointed to a porcelain doll with eyes that opened and closed and clothing that small fingers could remove and replace as often as desired, down to her tiny black boots. “Isn’t it perfect for Kate? It even looks a bit like her. She will love it.”

  “What little girl wouldn’t?” His voice turned wistful.

  Perhaps she had been mistaken that he would want a boy first. A fire spread throughout her, warming her toes and fingers—indeed, every inch of her was flaming with desire for him. Goodness, she must get hold of herself.

  “Now I wish to find the jewelry stall,” she said as the stall keeper carefully wrapped the beautiful doll. George had failed to return, likely still wrestling with the horse, so the man handed it to Jemmy. “I’d like to purchase a necklace for Mama. And then I believe we shall be finished. We will have certainly earned our tea and scones.” She giggled as she dragged him through the ever-swelling throng of shoppers. “Almost there.”

  The jeweler’s stall glittered with trays of trinkets, rings with paste stones, necklaces of exotic beading, bangle bracelets, colorful earrings with glass stones. A mouthwatering display. Excitement coursed through Elizabeth at the sight of such a wealth of possible gifts. She faced Jemmy and threw her hands up. “However am I to decide?”

  “If this is for Lady Wentworth, you must think of a favorite color of hers or a gown and choose a necklace to compliment it.” He watched her keenly. “I had no idea you were so fond of jewelry, Elizabeth. I shall have to order the Blackham jewels for you to wear as soon as we are established. They have been languishing at Richardson’s since my mother died.” He chuckled. “I do not even know what they look like.”

  “I am certain they are beautiful, Jemmy. I shall be proud to wear them.” Thrilling to the idea of wearing his family’s jewels, Elizabeth happily went about choosing the necklace for her mother. As Jemmy suggested, she searched for a piece that would complement her mother’s favorite green gown, with the ecru trim. She would likely wear it during the holidays and could show off the necklace then.

  A string of green, white, and black glass beads, with small clusters of beading strung to resemble flowers, lay in a tray to the side. “How pretty.” She lifted them up, and the light struck them so that the beads turned iridescent. “These will be perfect.”

  She handed the string to the shopkeeper and turned to find Jemmy looking at a tray of gold rings.

  His brow furrowed in concentration, he picked up first one, then another ring. They were a variety of widths, all solid gold, but some with fancy carvings. He glanced at her and smiled. “Will you come help me choose your wedding ring? We will have need of one shortly.”

  Heart swelling with love, she blinked back a tear and nodded. Her gaze fell on a narrow band, carved with vine leaves. She picked it up, and he slid it on her finger, where it fit perfectly. Looking into his eyes, Elizabeth wanted him to hold her and never let go.

  Jemmy kissed the ring and drew it off her finger. “Now I believe we are done, until two days after tomorrow, when this ring will never leave your hand again.”

  Chapter 29

  By the time they arrived back at Worth House, Elizabeth’s feet were aching, and she had to stifle a yawn as Jemmy helped her out of the carriage. Shopping had never worn her out like this before. Perhaps the new life within her had begun making demands on her body’s strength already.

  “Why don’t you nap until time for dinner, my dear,” Jemmy suggested as they mounted the steps to the house.

  “That does sound like a lovely idea.” She was quite drooping with fatigue. A long nap would revive her for dinner and Jemmy’s introduction to the children. Lord knew what they’d say about him after the fiasco with Lord Robert. “I will see you at dinner, then, my love.”

  He grazed her cheek with his lips, sending warmth all through her. “Rest well.”

  Slowly, she made her way up to her room, undressed, and lay down, thankful for her bed. If she could just stop the ideas whirling about her head, she could sleep.

  Elizabeth sat up, momentarily confused about where she was. Then the calm blue and white furnishings of her childhood room became familiar once more, and she lay back down, relishing the warmth of her nest.

  Scratching at the door announced Weller, who strode in with Elizabeth’s gown in her hand. “Time to get up, Mrs. Easton.”

  But she wanted to linger. If only Jemmy were here with her, she’d like nothing better than to stay hidden in this bed, not leaving it for days. A smile played over her lips at what they might do to occupy their time. Yes, they needed to arrange that as soon as they were wed. With a deep sigh, she pushed back the covers and sat up, her hair swirling around her shoulders.

  “Goodness, ma’am. We’ll have to put your hair to rights. It’s come right down.” The older woman clucked and fussed over her as she stripped and dressed her, the rhythm of the movements lulling Elizabeth into a peaceful state.

  Her toilette finished, with the addition of a strand of pearls and matching earrings, Elizabeth rose and donned a cream-colored silk shawl that complemented her deep salmon-colored gown. She was looking forward to the family’s traditional Christmas Eve celebration after dinner. There would be music and dancing, Papa’s special rum punch, and fruitcake. Tomorrow, with the children, they would have presents in the morning, the Punch-and-Judy Show in the afternoon—the children always loved seeing the silly puppets argue—and crackers and a snapdragon in the evening.

  Her conscience suddenly smote her. She hadn’t seen the children in two days. With the wild antics of yesterday and Jemmy’s arrival, she’d simply not thought to visit the nursery. Well, she could take a few minutes now to pop upstairs and see them before the longer visit tomorrow. So she turned her steps toward the staircase that led to the third-floor nursery, running lightly up them, suddenly excited to see Colin and Kate and tell them of her change of plans.

  Approaching the nursery door, she was startled to hear the high-pitched laughter and chatter of the children, punctuated by a deeper male voice. Had Papa come up to see Colin and Kate? She drew near the open door and popped her head through it just as Kate hit a high squeal of laughter.

  Colin wielded a toy sword at his sister, who battled him valiantly with a whirligig as she rode on Jemmy’s back. Down on all fours, he made an admirable steed.

  “Mama! Mama!” Dropping his sword, Colin rushed to her.

  “Mama. Put me down, horse.” Kate commanded, swishing the whirligig over Jemmy’s head.

  “Of course, my lady.” Jemmy held still as Kate clambered off his back and threw herself into Elizabeth’s arms. “Mama! I missed you.” She burrowed into Elizabeth’s chest.

  “I see you did, my loves.” Elizabeth hugged them, all the while eyeing Jemmy’s transformation.

  He rose from the floor, in shirtsleeves, cravat askew, curly hair sticking up all over his head, completely unruly. He could have been one of the children, with his face flushed bright pink, his eyes sparkling.

  “We’ve made a new friend, Mama.” Colin pointed to Jemmy. “He said he knows you and he wanted to get to know us. Nanny Fields said it would be all right this once.”

  “He’s ever such a good horse, Mama,” Kate said, nodding her approval as if she were royalty. “I didn’t fall off, not once. And I used my magic wand to slay the dragon.”

  “And the dragon had a sword?” Elizabeth tried to keep her composure, but they all looked so pleased with themselves, she had to smile.

  “We thought it only fair, my dear, as the dragon couldn’t breathe fire, that he have some way of defending himself.” Slapping his legs to shake the dust off, Jemmy grinned at her and slipped on his coat, which had been abandoned onto a chair.

  “Ah, quite right.” Elizabeth sat down between the children, unmindful of her gown. “One must have a fair fight, mustn’t one?”

  “Exactly.” Kate waved her whirligig wand over the dragon�
�s head. “You must stop being a dragon, now, Colin. I’m very tired.” A huge yawn split her face, and she stretched her arms up in the air.

  “I believe it is past your bedtimes, loveys, and tomorrow will be a very busy day, don’t you remember?”

  “Christmas Day!” they sang out together.

  “Come on, Colin. Let’s go right to sleep so it will come ever so fast. Good night, Mama. Good night, Lord Brack.” She hugged Elizabeth, made a dainty little curtsy to Jemmy, and scampered toward her bed.

  “Good night, Mama. Good night, Lord Brack.” Colin kissed her cheek and whispered, “Can he be our new Papa instead of the tall, stiff man? Please, Mama? He’s ever so much more fun.”

  Smothering a smile, she appeared to think about it. “I think that can be arranged, my love. If you are very sure, I think we may manage it.” She hugged him before he ran to his bed, jumped into it, and flung the covers over his head.

  “One moment,” she whispered to Jemmy before heading into Nanny Field’s room. She gave orders to Nanny about waking the children in the morning, then returned and took her beloved by the hand, leading him out of the nursery. “You just made two huge conquests and have been invited to join the family. What possessed you to come up here? You would have met them tomorrow; then you wouldn’t have been quite so rumpled.”

  As if he’d just realized his appearance was anything other than perfect, he held out one creased arm of his coat and tsked. “Fellowes can put me to rights in ten minutes before dinner. I found myself with some time to spare before dinner, and I was curious about the children.” He gave her a sheepish grin. “I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you to introduce us, but I am glad I made a favorable impression. Kate is going to be a beauty, just like her mother.” He took her arm. “And Colin has a very sharp mind—he was immediately thinking strategy as the embattled dragon.”

  “Then you like them?”

  “Very much.’ He patted her arm. “And soon we will have our own as well.” A quiet look at the empty corridor, and he stopped, putting his arms around her. “As many as we like.” He smiled, joy in his eyes. “I wouldn’t mind a houseful as long as they take after their mother,” he said, nuzzling her neck.

  “I would like the boys to look like their Papa.” Breathing deeply, Elizabeth leaned her head back, baring herself more openly. He caressed the curve of her throat, sending tingles down to her core. “Curly blond hair, blue eyes, and ears that turn pink, so we’ll know when they are fibbing.” Lord, he made her want to abandon herself right here in the hall.

  “We will see if that can be arranged.” Continuing to kiss his way across her neck, he turned and went up behind her ear.

  Shivers wracked her, then she flushed with desire.

  He walked her backward until her bottom hit the wall, and he pushed himself against her, settling into the V of her legs as though he was a missing part of her. “I would say we could start now, but we already have.”

  Seizing her lips, he thrust his tongue into her, and the heat exploded all over her.

  She relaxed into his arms, drinking him in as their tongues tangled. With an effort, she slid heavy arms around him, pulling him closer, urging him to give her more. Was there an unoccupied room on this floor?

  A floorboard creaked, and Jemmy leaped back.

  Panting to catch her breath, Elizabeth peered first one way, then the other down the corridor, but no one appeared. With a groan, she pushed herself away from the wall and took Jemmy’s hand once more. His touch still seared her, but the sudden fright of discovery had cooled her ardor for the moment. “Let us go repair ourselves before we join the others.” She eyed Jemmy, whose cravat was coming loose and jacket hung slightly askew. She suspected she looked rather frowsy herself. “At least once we are married, we won’t have to sneak about so much.”

  Jemmy chuckled, his eyes twinkling mischievously, and tucked her arm into the crook of his. “My love, that is part of the fun.”

  * * *

  Christmas Day seemed a gay party to Jemmy, whose remembrances of Christmas from his youth were rather austere in comparison. At Blackham Castle, the day was kept with good food and drink, presents for the staff, and, when he and his brother and sisters were young, toys for them as well. The celebration he witnessed at Worth House, however, was extravagantly lavish to say the least.

  Presents after breakfast brought squeals of delight from the children, and oohs and aaahs from their elders as well. Elizabeth’s sisters seemed well pleased with their gifts, and rushed to try them on and display them. Her parents were equally complimentary, and Jemmy smiled when Lord Worth quietly retreated to a corner chair with the first volume of Tales of My Landlord in his hand.

  Later that morning, he and Elizabeth had stolen a few moments of their own to exchange gifts. He’d been thrilled when he’d managed to surprise her with a garnet necklace and matching earrings. Her shining eyes, as she asked him to fasten it around her neck, had touched his heart deeply. That this woman’s merest glance would delight him for the rest of his life at last began to sink into his mind, and a contentment he’d never experienced before sent a hush through him.

  In turn, he’d been amazed when she’d presented him with a gold watch fob, engraved with the initial B in a flourishing style. “That letter B will serve you both now and later,” she’d whispered as she placed a soft kiss on his cheek. When she’d had time to secure his present he had no idea, but he was now convinced the woman was a marvel at efficiency.

  Those stolen moments had been few that day as the family continued with what were obviously their accustomed Christmas Day activities. After presents, they had all bundled up and walked three blocks to a Punch-and-Judy Show. The crisp air had done nothing to dispel the crowd gathered around the puppet booth, and Jemmy and Lord Worth had been obliged to lift the children up on their shoulders so they could see. The twins thought this marvelous fun and squealed with delight at their vantage points. A brisk walk back home, in the nick of time to avoid his toes freezing clean off in his boots, ended with a glass of hot rum punch, another family Christmas tradition, he’d been told. They made merry at dinner as well, with the children joining them for crackers and a snapdragon, everyone shouting and laughing as they snatched at the burning raisins.

  “When we are married,” Jemmy remarked, having paused from kissing Elizabeth beneath a sprig of mistletoe, “every Christmas will be just like this one.”

  Boxing Day brought its own style of hilarity. Lady Wentworth served Tawes tea, Lord Wentworth drove the female servants a turn in Hyde Park, and that evening, at the Servants’ Ball, Jemmy danced with Mrs. Cates, the housekeeper, while Elizabeth partnered a bright-red-faced Fellowes, who had turned up midafternoon with Jemmy’s trunks from Lyttlefield Park.

  The morning of December 27 dawned at last, crisp and cold, with a few random flakes of snow in the air. Jemmy bounded down the stairs, hurrying a trifle and pulling at the sleeves of his gray suit, freshly pressed by Fellowes. Jemmy could have wished for no better Christmas present than the return of his valet. He’d just left the man glowing with praise for his timely entrance yesterday, and a newly minted half-guinea as a token of his appreciation.

  Unfortunately, Lady Wrotham’s ten pounds had decreased alarmingly over the holiday, but he patted his breast pocket, Elizabeth’s gold ring always on his person. It had cost him dearly, as it should. Now he knew of her penchant for jewelry, once he inherited his mother’s fortune, he would dress her in pearls or diamonds, if she preferred them. For now, however, they would be happy with this small token of his undying love.

  He signaled a footman and left orders for his horse to be brought around, then strode into the breakfast room, where everyone had congregated save Lord and Lady Wentworth.

  “Good morning.” He addressed the company with a pleasant smile, then turned to the business of heaping his plate full of sausages and potatoes from the warming pans lying companionably side by side. “I trust you are all recovered from yesterday’s unaccus
tomed work?”

  “Good morning.”

  “Good morning, my lord.”

  “Good morning, my love.” The last came from Elizabeth, seated at the head of the table, eyeing him brightly.

  He grabbed silverware and quickly claimed his place to her right.

  “I hope you will excuse Mama today, Jemmy. She is always totally incapacitated by Boxing Day.” Eyes twinkling with amusement, she sipped her tea. “Actually, having to wait upon Tawes each year brings on an attack of the vapors the magnitude of which you simply would not believe. Although I suspect the strain is equally great on Tawes, who has always been most proper.”

  Jemmy chuckled at that. Fellowes had seemed unusually overwrought after his dance with Elizabeth last night. “Do not fret yourself, my dear. I do quite understand. And if you will give me leave, I will head to the offices of the Archbishop of Canterbury for the special license that proclaims we can be man and wife without further delay.”

  “I think that is terribly forward-thinking of you, Lord Brack.” Bella spread marmalade on her toast, then crunched into it with gusto. “So long and drawn out to have the banns read.” She wrinkled her nose. “I do wish I could convince dear Haxton to get a special license so we could marry immediately. Mama wants us to wait until the new year.” With a huff that sent her wisps of hair flying, Bella pulled a Friday face. “Or we could run away to Gretna Green.”

  “Bella.” Elizabeth shot her sister a stern look and shook her head, her eyes flashing a warning. “Dotty, be a dear and run fetch my reticule. I have a letter to post.”

  Unconcerned, her sister nodded and left the breakfast room.

  “Isabella,” Elizabeth hissed as soon as Dotty swished through the door, “I very much doubt you would ever run off to Scotland to be married. Lord Haxton would not hear of it, I am sure. But to put such ideas within the hearing of Dotty, a flibbertigibbet if ever there was one, is dangerous, to say the least. Given half the chance, I’m sure she’d be across the border at the first opportunity and think it a grand lark.”