Web of Love

by Mary Balogh

  “Oh, Papa,” she said, giving in finally and totally to self-pity and really not caring for the moment, “how am I going to bear it when he goes away forever?”

  “You’ll have your child,” he said, “and your papa. You’ll do, girl. You’ll do.”

  THE EARL OF AMBERLEY was sitting sprawled on a sofa in a room adjoining the nursery of his house, his arms stretched out along the back. He was half-smiling as he watched his wife nursing their daughter.

  “She is sleeping,” he said.

  “I know.” She sighed. “And I should put her down, shouldn’t I? She is going to have to be weaned fairly soon. She is seven months old already. It is not fair, Edmund. Children should remain tiny babies for far longer than they do.”

  “Well,” he said, “when Caroline has finished at your breast, Alex, we will just have to see about putting another child there, won’t we?”

  She flushed. “Will we?” she said. “Oh, Edmund, you have me tingling right down to my toes.”

  He grinned. “It seems a shame to waste the moment, doesn’t it?” he said. “And Caroline is asleep. However, I have just recalled that the minute I step back out into the nursery, I will have to give Christopher that promised piggyback ride. And I am talking about giving you more children?”

  “We are really going back to Amberley next week?” she said, smiling. “I won’t believe it until we are there. Home again. It will be bliss.”

  “I was somewhat surprised that Lieutenant Penworth has agreed to come along with Madeline, weren’t you?” he said.

  “Yes,” she said. “But I am glad. I want to get to know him better. And having him to tea does not accomplish that. Madeline is so very careful to protect him from any awkwardness.”

  “And only succeeds in making the whole situation impossibly awkward,” he said. “Amberley will be good for him. I think he has what it takes to cope with his handicaps if he is left to himself, Alex.”

  “You mean if Madeline will stop coddling him,” she said.

  “I don’t want to be unkind to her,” he said. “She has done wonders for him, I believe, and she is wholly devoted to him. I have never seen Madeline so unfocused on herself.”

  “Will they be happy?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “If they want to be, I suppose,” he said. “Being at Amberley should help them to get to know each other better. I mean, in more than a nurse-patient sort of relationship. The Simpson ladies will be here later. You are sure you want to invite them to Amberley too, Alex? I did not talk you into it?”

  “You know I would have argued if I had disagreed,” she said. “I don’t. But I am not sure they will come, for all that, Edmund.”

  “Dominic has made a definite decision to go into Wiltshire,” he said.

  “But Mrs. Simpson is bound to feel awkward with us,” she said. “We are his family, after all. It would be lovely if they would come, though, Edmund. It was an inspired idea on your part. Madeline is friendly with both of them, and Anna has become very close with Miss Simpson. And Walter too, it seems. And it would be good for them to have the greater freedom of a country estate during the time of their mourning. And I like them. I would enjoy their company.”

  “I feel under a great obligation to Mrs. Simpson,” the earl said. “I am still of the opinion that Dominic might well not be alive today if it were not for her. I would like to show my gratitude in some way.”

  “Then we shall ask them when they come to tea,” the countess said. “I hope they say yes. You speak to them, Edmund. You are much more persuasive than I am.”

  “Am I?” he said, getting to his feet and taking the sleeping baby from her arms. “I don’t suppose I can persuade my son to forgo his piggyback ride and my wife to visit our bedchamber with me, can I?”

  She laughed. “No, you certainly may not,” she said. “You will behave yourself until the decent hour of bedtime, my lord.”

  “I didn’t think I would succeed,” he said with a sigh.

  JENNIFER WAS BUBBLING with high spirits. She still had moods of guilty remorse and would shed tears when she remembered that she was in mourning for her father. But Ellen did not resent the fact that the girl was returning to her youthful enthusiasm for life. Those two intense months they had spent grieving were quite enough for one so young.

  Everything seemed to be going well for Jennifer. She had made friends and was having numerous outings. She had a few admirers, though Ellen did not think she was attached to any one of them. Including Lord Eden, she was relieved to find. Jennifer did not talk of him any more than she talked of Walter Carrington or Anna’s friend Mr. Phelps. And she did not appear to be nursing a private tendre.

  They had visited Sir Jasper Simpson more than once, and Mr. Phillip Simpson on one occasion. And Sir Jasper appeared to have accepted Jennifer as his granddaughter. Indeed, the girl confided to Ellen after one visit, he had told her that she had the look of her grandmother when she smiled.

  And he was as good as his word. He was holding a dinner and quiet evening party in honor of his newfound relatives. He had asked both of them if there was anyone in particular that they wished him to invite. Ellen had said no, but Jennifer had had her grandfather smiling indulgently as she had eagerly listed almost all of her acquaintances: Lord Eden, Anna and Walter Carrington, Mrs. Jennings, Lady Madeline, the Emery sisters.

  “Lady Madeline is betrothed to Lieutenant Penworth,” she had said. “I knew him in Brussels, Grandpapa, but he was badly wounded and he does not like to be seen in public now. I don’t believe he would come.”

  “But I will send him an invitation anyway,” the old man had said with a chuckle.

  Ellen would have been alarmed at the mention of Lord Eden had she not known that he was as eager to avoid meeting her again as she was to avoid him. And he was planning to go into the country soon. She need not fear. He would refuse his invitation.

  She could not bear it if he came. It was not that she was afraid to meet him. She had recovered from that sort of dread after her humiliating fit of the vapors. But she had accustomed her mind to the idea that she would never see him again. The wound was beginning to film over. Very thinly, it was true. But she did not want it rubbed raw again.

  She did not fear the visit to the Earl and Countess of Amberley’s. She liked them very much and remembered the kindness and the tact the earl had shown her during those dreadful days in Brussels. She did not think that they would embarrass her by inviting the earl’s brother to tea as well. And Jennifer was excited at the prospect of the visit. She was hoping to see the children again.

  She was not to be disappointed. Christopher was tugging at her skirt, waiting for her attention, when she was still exchanging greetings with her host and hostess. She stooped down as soon as she was able and hugged him. And then he was off again, in pursuit of his game.

  The countess looked at her husband a few minutes later and raised her eyebrows when Caroline hauled herself up on her knees beside Ellen, clung to her skirt, and gazed up solemnly into her face. Ellen did not withdraw her attention from the conversation, but lifted the child onto her lap and opened her reticule so that the baby could rummage through its contents.

  Ellen was taken totally by surprise when the invitation to stay at Amberley Court was issued. She had already expressed envy when the countess had mentioned the fact that they were removing to the country. And she had told them that it was the dearest wish of her heart to live in the country herself.

  “Oh,” she said when the earl asked her and Jennifer to join them for a few weeks at Amberley. And could think of nothing else to say.

  Jennifer was not so tongue-tied. “Oh, may we go, Ellen?” she asked, sitting on the edge of her chair, her cheeks flushed. “Oh, please, may we? Amberley is by the sea, is it not? You told me about it, ma’am, on our journey back to England, and Anna has told me about it. It sounds so perfectly splendid.”

  “You are very kind,” Ellen said, looking from the earl to the countess. “But you re
ally do not owe me anything at all. I did no more than hundreds of other women in Brussels.”

  “Indeed you did,” the earl said. “The hundreds of others did not nurse my brother back to health, ma’am. But our obligation aside, we would enjoy entertaining you. And so, apparently, would our daughter. You would not realize how very rare it is for her to associate with anyone except her parents and her nurse. I suppose she would befriend her brother too if she could only catch him occasionally.”

  “Oh, do say yes, Ellen,” Jennifer begged.

  Ellen looked at the earl and the countess, both of whom were smiling at her.

  “Madeline will be there,” the countess said, “and her betrothed. Dominic will not, of course, as he is going to his own estate within the next few days.”

  “The prospect of a few weeks in the country is an appealing one,” Ellen said with the utmost sincerity.

  Jennifer beamed with pleasure and sat back in her chair again. The countess smiled more broadly. It seemed that her answer had been made, Ellen thought.

  “Splendid!” the earl said. “Alex and I always enjoy showing off our home to guests. That is settled, then. And from the noise on the stairs it is my guess that we are about to be invaded.”

  The doors to the drawing room opened to admit the butler, only one step ahead of Anna and Walter Carrington, Susan Jennings, and Lord Eden. Anna’s voice, as usual, preceded her into the room.

  “It is beginning to rain, Alexandra,” she was saying, “and we were riding in an open barouche. The question was where to go. And your house was the closest of anyone we knew. So we decided to invite ourselves to tea. You do not mind, do you? And how could you possibly say so now, even if you do mind? Oh!” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “You have visitors already.”

  But when she saw who they were, the twinkle was back in her eyes, and she was across the room to sit beside Jennifer.

  “Walter and I had an invitation this morning,” she said. “From your grandfather. Did you know? We answered it right away and said we would come.”

  “That is a relief,” Jennifer said. “The Misses Emery, my friends, have another engagement for that evening.”

  Everyone else exchanged greetings. Lord Eden took a seat across the room from Ellen. And the film had been rubbed away from the wound. She wished she had not said that to her father about not knowing what she would do if she never saw him again. She had not admitted anything to herself before that moment. And it was better so.

  She must count the days patiently until his departure for the country.

  Anna was squealing. “Walter,” she said, “Jennifer and Mrs. Simpson are coming to Amberley for a few weeks. Is that your doing, Edmund? You are my very, very favorite cousin, I do assure you. I shall not mind half as much having to go home now, and I shall tell Papa so. He threatened this morning to stuff his ears with cotton if I complain about it one more time.”

  Ellen and Lord Eden were regarding each other across the room.

  “Why don’t you come too, Dominic?” Anna said. “Then I would be totally happy. It is very unsporting of you to take yourself off to Wiltshire when you can quite easily postpone going there for a few months.”

  “No,” he said, still looking at Ellen. “I will not be at Amberley before Christmas, Anna.”

  “I have had an invitation to Sir Jasper Simpson’s for dinner and cards,” Susan Jennings said to Ellen. “It is very obliging of him, I am sure. And all because of my friendship with your dear stepdaughter, ma’am. It will be difficult to attend, of course, as I have no one to escort me, with my dear husband gone.”

  “Are you coming, my lord?” Jennifer asked Lord Eden eagerly.

  “I have not answered my invitation yet,” he said guardedly.

  “It is the day before you plan to leave town,” Anna said. “I worked it out in my mind when I read my invitation. You must come, Dominic.”

  “You will understand if I refuse my invitation,” Susan said gently to Ellen, “that it is not that I wish to appear ill-mannered to your dear father-in-law, ma’am. But you will know just how very alone one is when one’s husband is gone. You at least are fortunate enough to have a stepdaughter to give you some company.” She lifted a delicate handkerchief to her eyes.

  “I will take you up in my carriage, Susan,” Lord Eden said. “We will go together.”

  “How very kind you are,” she said. “But I would not wish to impose upon you, my lord.”

  “It is no imposition at all,” he said.

  His eyes, when they looked back to Ellen, were inscrutable.

  The wound had been rubbed quite raw again.

  The conversation had moved on to another topic.

  SIXTEEN PERSONS SAT DOWN TO DINNER AT Sir Jasper Simpson’s town house several evenings later. It would not, unfortunately, be a merry gathering, he told his guests in the drawing room before they moved into the dining room. There would be no dancing. A number of them were in mourning. But he had given in to the desire to honor the daughter-in-law and the granddaughter whom he had met for the first time only recently, and to meet some of their closest friends.

  He knew almost everyone, Lord Eden discovered. He did not know Sir Jasper himself or Mrs. Edith Simpson, but he had seen Phillip Simpson at White’s a few times in the past. And he was acquainted with Mr. and Mrs. Everett, cousins of Charlie’s. Young Mr. Lawrence Winslow he had not seen before, but he did know Viscount Agerton. And there was a great deal of loud talk and laughter and back-slapping when that last gentleman and Walter recognized in each other old school fellows.

  Anna and Susan and Madeline were present too, of course, and Penworth, much to Lord Eden’s surprise. Madeline had announced at home the day before that he had decided to attend the dinner. She had been sparkling with exuberance, and yet she had expressed some uneasiness to him when they were alone together. Was he up to mingling with such a gathering for a whole evening?

  There was only one way to find out, he had told her, his arm about her shoulders. Was she up to it? That was more to the point. She had thrown him an indignant look, and he had guessed that he had hit on a raw nerve.

  Lord Eden should have felt quite comfortable at the gathering. In fact, he felt quite the opposite. He was mingling with Charlie’s family. And he was intruding yet again on Ellen’s presence, when he had told her the week before that he would probably not see her again. He had said good-bye to her.

  He was still not quite sure why he had accepted the invitation. Had it been Susan’s plight? Or Anna’s persuasions? Or Miss Simpson’s eager expression? Or was it his own weak and selfish need to torture himself? And perhaps Ellen too?

  However it was, he felt uncomfortable and wished himself anywhere but in that particular place. He was thankful that his trunks were packed and arrangements all made for his departure the next day. Temptation would be taken out of his grasp then. He could begin the process of forgetting her and starting a new life.

  In the meantime, he decided as Sir Jasper took Ellen on his arm to lead her into the dining room, and he offered his own arm to Susan, he would stay far away from Ellen for that evening. He would show her feelings that much respect, anyway.

  He seated Susan as far from the head of the table as possible and set himself to charming both her and Lady Habersham on his other side. He concentrated the whole of his mind on his conversation with those two ladies and on Winslow and Mrs. Everett opposite. And soon, he thought after an interminable hour, the ladies would withdraw, and if he was fortunate, Sir Jasper would be the type of man who liked to sit over the port and the male conversation for at least an hour more.

  But Sir Jasper rose to his feet before Edith Simpson could give the signal to the ladies. He wished his guests to join him in a few toasts, he said. They all dutifully raised their glasses to his granddaughter, whom circumstances had kept from him all her life, and to his dear daughter-in-law, who had comforted the last years of his son.

  The old man paused, his smile directed at Elle
n. Lord Eden allowed himself to look fully at her for the first time that evening. She was sitting very upright in her chair, her face pale and tense, her eyes wide and pleading on her father-in-law. One hand began to reach up to him but joined the other in her lap again.

  Lord Eden frowned.

  “And a very special toast,” Sir Jasper said, “to a third person, one who is with us tonight and makes our numbers a very awkward seventeen.” He smiled kindly down at his daughter-in-law.

  She closed her eyes.

  “To my future grandchild,” Sir Jasper said. “To my grandson, it is my fondest hope. My heir.”

  There was a buzz of voices about the table and a scraping of chairs being pushed back. And a clinking of glasses. Lord Eden found himself on his feet and doing what everyone else did. He even heard Susan say that she was never more surprised in her life. And one part of him noticed Jennifer with both hands to her mouth, crying.

  He stayed on his feet, bowing and smiling as the ladies left. And he even found himself participating in a conversation about the races and the quality of the cattle that were up for auction these days at Tattersall’s. He had no idea if the gentlemen sat over the port for ten minutes or thirty, or for a whole hour.

  But Sir Jasper did eventually suggest that they join the ladies in the drawing room.

  JENNIFER SAT BESIDE ELLEN until the gentlemen joined them. Most of the other ladies were gathered about the pianoforte. Several of them played.

  Jennifer was feeling happier than she had felt for months, she told Ellen more than once. Why had Ellen not told her before? She was so very happy.

  “I have been feeling so sad for you in the last few weeks, Ellen,” she said. “I have new friends and have been going about a great deal more than you have. And I have realized that losing a husband is very much worse than losing a father. I have wished and wished that there were something or somebody for you. But though you are young and very lovely and will undoubtedly remarry eventually, you could not think of doing so yet, could you? But now you do have someone. Your very own child. Oh, Ellen, I know why you did not tell me when we were alone at home. I would have screamed and danced you about the room. I don’t blame you for preventing that.”