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Wager for a Wife

Page 28

by Karen Tuft


  “He was taking this and that, Will, and we couldn’t stop him. But I got him. I got him in the end. And that other his lordship can’t have them. I won’t let him.”

  “What do you mean, ‘that other his lordship’?” William asked her gently.

  Louisa’s heart was full as she watched William talk to the obviously distressed girl. He was so kind and patient. What a good father he would be.

  “You know. His lordship.” Mary’s voice went pompous sounding.

  William laughed. “Do you mean Louisa’s father?”

  Mary nodded and then ducked her head.

  “He’s a very reasonable gentleman, Mary. You don’t need to have any concerns about him.”

  “He won’t take things?”

  “No, he won’t take things. In fact, he’s going to help us make Farleigh Manor the lovely place it used to be. Isn’t that grand?”

  “But he won’t take things? They’re your things, Will. Not his.”

  “No one is going to take anything else,” William reassured Mary. “We can return all these lovely items you protected for me to their places in the house. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  She nodded.

  “That’s good, then. We’ll leave them safely in here for tonight and go downstairs to join the others.”

  “Everyone was concerned about you when you got upset.” Louisa said, speaking for the first time. She took Mary’s hands in her own. “Mary, I am so glad William had such a good friend as you when he was a boy and that you are friends still. For, you see, I love William.”

  “I love Will too,” Mary said. “But not in the married way, like he explained to me. You can marry him, and I will be his friend.”

  “I hope you and I can be friends too, Mary,” Louisa said. “I should like that above all things.”

  “If you love Will and take care of him and don’t sell his things, we can be friends,” Mary said.

  Louisa couldn’t help herself. She laughed and pulled Mary in for a big hug. “Oh, Mary, I vow to you that I won’t sell anything that belongs to him unless he has given me permission to do so. Is that sufficient?” She pulled back, smiling, and looked closely at Mary’s face.

  “Yes,” Mary replied seriously.

  “I’m glad you approve. And in two days’ time, when William and I get married, I shall vow before God to love him always.”

  “And then there will be babies!” Mary exclaimed.

  Louisa choked, but William broke out in the biggest laugh Louisa had ever heard escape his lips.

  It was a glorious sound.

  Epilogue

  The Honorable William Barlow, the fourth Viscount Farleigh, became a married man in the usual way. What was also usual was that he was surrounded by the people who loved him and whom he loved. What was unexpected was the fact that he, who had thought he would be the only member of the Barlow family present for the nuptials, had discovered a stepmother and a half brother and half sister in the past week, and they were present to share in the joy as William married the love of his life.

  The family chapel where the marriage took place was a small stone edifice dating back to James the Second. It had gone through several refurbishments since that time, one of which included the addition of a stained-glass window. As today was a particularly glorious morning in May, the sun streaming through the window threw rainbows of color on the walls, which matched William’s mood entirely.

  Miss Purnell—Jane—sat next to Louisa’s mother, with Halford and Anthony joining them on the same pew. Peter acted as ring bearer while little Daisy scattered flower petals up the small aisle to the altar.

  William pondered his good fortune as he stood next to the parish priest near the altar, with Samuel at his side as best man, as they awaited Louisa’s arrival.

  And then she walked toward him on the arm of her father, wearing a light-blue day dress that set off her radiant blue eyes. Her father and brothers shared the same distinctive family trait. William hoped one day he and Louisa would be blessed with at least one child with the Hargreaves’ blue eyes. She had also chosen to wear a pair of light kid gloves with tiny blue forget-me-nots embroidered around the cuffs, and William had a monogrammed handkerchief in his pocket, both of which had been stitched by his mother.

  The service proceeded more quickly than William imagined it would, and before he knew it, they had spoken their vows and signed the register and exited the chapel as man and wife—man and wife!—and were met by cheers and the requisite shower of more flower petals. Matthew and Samuel and Grimshaw joined in, as did Louisa’s brothers, and even Louisa’s parents chose to toss a few petals. Lord Ashworth’s solicitor, Swindlehurst, and Richard Heslop were in attendance, flower petals in hand, smiles on their faces. William had dashed off letters to both of them the day Louisa had accepted his marriage proposal, informing them of the wedding and inviting them to attend.

  Upon the arrival of both solicitors, William and Lord Ashworth had read over the marriage contracts together, eventually coming to full agreement and signing the documents. He and William had met in William’s study the day before their arrival—just the two of them. They had spoken frankly about the status of Farleigh Manor, Halford having already reported his own findings to his father, about William’s regard for Louisa, and about his plan to put Farleigh Manor to rights.

  William had discovered that the contracts were much more generous than he had initially hoped and had even been further amended by the marquess, increasing the amounts significantly. Dumbfounded, William had thanked the marquess for his generosity, telling him he understood Lord Ashworth loved his only daughter and William would do everything he could to see to her comfort. Lord Ashworth had replied that he’d found William a worthy partner for his daughter after all and was only too willing to lend his resources to the success of their match.

  William had been truly humbled by the marquess’s words. He’d never heard anything remotely similar from his own father, and it had evoked an emotion in him as to bring him to ungentlemanly but well-received tears.

  William and his bride now stood outside the chapel doors, their hands clasped together, and watched Mrs. Brill and Mrs. Holly scurry back to the house to put the finishing touches on the wedding banquet while the other guests mingled together and enjoyed the sunshine. Suddenly, Mary rushed up to William and gave him a crushing hug, tears streaming down her cheeks, a big grin on her face. “I love you, Will, and I love Mrs. Will too,” she cried, quickly hugging Louisa too before dashing off to help her mother.

  Were there any better words of approval than Mary’s? Words shared entirely from the heart and expressed with openness.

  Much like his Louisa was inclined to do.

  His Louisa.

  “May I escort you back to our house, Lady Farleigh?” William asked her.

  “I would love nothing better,” she replied, smiling up at him and glowing and looking, oh, so beautiful.

  He led her to the house, which felt more like a home than it had before the discovery of Mary’s hoard, each piece having been returned to its original place. They had found the portrait of his mother among them, and it now hung in pride of place over the sitting room mantel. Mary had managed to explain, eventually, that every time William’s father took something—which William understood, even if Mary did not, that he’d intended to pawn to cover his debts and expenses—Mary would sneak out of her bedroom at night and hide one or two things in the priest hole. How she had discovered the priest hole, William still wasn’t entirely sure. Mary’s explanation had been a bit jumbled, but it came as no surprise to him that she’d chanced upon the room since she had always been inclined to go off on her own and knew the grounds and the house better than anyone else.

  Soon everyone was seated in assorted mismatched chairs that surrounded a large makeshift table in the dining room. Mrs. Holly had covered the table with a white linen tablecloth that she had washed, ironed, and scrupulously mended, and she had adorned it with a bouquet
of wildflowers someone had picked from the grounds of Farleigh manor. Lord and Lady Ashworth had not blinked an eye when William had informed them earlier that he wished for the wedding banquet to be informal, with the servants of Farleigh Manor joining them at table, creating a wedding party of friends that varied greatly in rank and status.

  Mrs. Brill outdid herself with the menu, and they feasted on fish and pork and wild game until they were sated from good food and congenial company. Grimshaw dabbed his mouth with his napkin and then took to his feet. “Here’s to my Lord and Lady Farleigh; much joy to them both. He was always a good and proper lad, and I dare anyone to say otherwise—even if I did have to send Mrs. Holly to the nursery a time or two for a clean change of clothes. Now, I won’t be saying it was because he’d fallen into the pond catching frogs or had been caught mucking about in the stables—”

  “It would be me sayin’ he were mucking about the stables,” Samuel interjected, causing the others to laugh.

  “Right you are, Samuel. Right you are,” Grimshaw said.

  “I preferred keeping company with the horses,” William couldn’t resist saying. “They didn’t gossip, if you take my meaning.”

  “It isn’t gossip if one is trying to keep a young lad clean and presentable, not to mention alive,” Grimshaw said, smiling and raising his goblet. The old butler had let down his facade too, William noticed, just as he himself had done. “As I was saying, to the young lord and lady of Farleigh Manor. Cheers.”

  They all raised their goblets in a toast, and then Halford stood. “I would be remiss if I didn’t toast the bride and groom. And lest you worry about reprisals, Grimshaw, I will tell you that my little sister was just as prone to dirty clothes as a child as Farleigh was.”

  “True enough,” Lord Anthony chimed in.

  Louisa glared at them both, and William grinned.

  Halford continued. “Ruffly little dresses and petticoats, lacy stockings and ribbons and such always found themselves caught on branches and twigs, and Tony and I were forever having to untangle her from all sorts of predicaments. I don’t know how her nurse managed to mend them all and keep Weezy above the suspicion of our parents.”

  “She didn’t,” Lady Ashworth said, sending a wave of laughter around the room once again. “What kind of mother would I have been if I hadn’t been able to spot such unladylike behavior in my daughter? I was just as unladylike as she was as a child. I recognized the signs.”

  “Hear, hear, Mama. Like mother, like daughter. Please, everyone, raise your glass to the newly married Viscount and Viscountess Farleigh,” Halford said, his own goblet held high. “Notwithstanding, you shall always be dear little Weezy to me.”

  Louisa rolled her eyes as everyone joined in the toast.

  And then Lord Ashworth stood, and the room went silent. “A father is concerned—rightfully so—about his children. One never knows what the future holds in store.” He gazed about the table, his eyes resting briefly on Halford and then Lord Anthony and finally on Louisa. “Lord Farleigh is a good man, Louisa. With great joy and relief, I am assured of this. Take care of my daughter, Farleigh.”

  “I intend to, sir,” William replied. “With my whole heart.”

  Lord Ashworth nodded. “To a lifetime of happiness together.”

  “To a lifetime of happiness,” the guests echoed.

  William took Louisa’s hand in his now. “Will you walk with me, Lady Farleigh?” he asked her in a low voice. “There is a place I should like to visit today, and I would appreciate having you with me when I do.”

  “You have no need to ask. I would love to go with you.”

  He stood, and she rose to her feet as well. “Thanks to you all, dearest friends, and the warmest welcome to new family members. I am a man who is truly blessed. My heart is full.”

  Cheers of congratulations and well wishes met his words.

  “My bride and I will leave you to enjoy yourselves. Mrs. Brill, please bring on the desserts for our guests. Eat, drink, everyone, and Louisa and I will join you again shortly.”

  “Little chance of that happening,” Alex drawled, drawing a few chuckles and raising a blush on Louisa’s cheeks.

  “Alex!” she hissed.

  “Halford, really!” Louisa’s mama scolded.

  William himself merely ignored it. He was in too good a mood to do anything else. He laced his fingers through Louisa’s and led her out of the dining room and eventually outside.

  He took her back to the chapel.

  It was midafternoon now, and the sun was shining at a different angle and with a different sort of light than it had this morning. The stained-glass window painted the interior walls with deeper hues than it had earlier in the day. There was an air of welcoming solitude and peace about the place, especially now with just the two of them here.

  They sat side by side on the first pew, not speaking. William knew he would always be a man of few words. He was not of a gregarious nature.

  “You will not miss London or your friends there?” he asked Louisa after a few minutes.

  “I expect we will visit on occasion. You will have your place in the House of Lords and must see to your duty.”

  “That isn’t what I asked,” he said.

  She smiled. “I know. I do not need London to be happy, William; quite the contrary. What I need is to be at your side, creating a life and a family together with the wonderful people who are here.”

  “I love you; you know that, don’t you?” William said, lowering his head to kiss her—rather chastely since they were in a house of worship.

  “Yes,” she replied, her eyes twinkling. “And I love you with all my heart. But there is something important I would have you know.”

  “What?” He couldn’t resist stealing another quick kiss.

  She placed her hands firmly on his shoulders and looked him squarely in the eyes, which was a total pleasure as far as William was concerned. She had a serious look on her face, however, that quickly sobered him. “I am officially informing you that I shall be calling you William in private only. You are Farleigh now, and I intend to refer to you as such whenever we are not alone. It is time the title Viscount Farleigh become known for its honor and integrity.”

  Spoken like the daughter—and wife—of a nobleman. It also reminded him of his reason for bringing her here. “There is somewhere I would like to take you this afternoon,” he said.

  “I suspect I know where that might be,” she said. “And I’m glad of it.”

  “Wait here for a moment.”

  He kissed her hand and went to a small alcove, retrieving the small painting of him with his parents. He’d brought it to the chapel early this morning, wanting to have both his parents present at the ceremony. Then he led her to the family churchyard on the east side of the chapel and to his mother’s grave. His father’s fresh grave lay next to it.

  His mother would have loved Louisa dearly had she met her and would be utterly thrilled with their match; of this William was certain. He expected his father would have at least appreciated the irony surrounding the original wager and William’s subsequent use of the vowel—and the end results.

  He handed the portrait to Louisa after removing its cloth covering. She ran a single finger across it, from William’s mother to his father and finally to William.

  “It’s a handsome family, William.”

  “I have been intensely angry at my father since meeting Jane and Peter and Daisy. I have been angry at him for a long time before that, Louisa, for letting me down and for letting my mother down. For ruining his health and hers and all but destroying his inheritance. And yet I would never have met you if he had not done these things. And so I must forgive him.” He ran his hand over the newly laid tombstone. “I must forgive him, but I’m not sure I can.”

  “I think forgiveness must take time, William,” Louisa said. How wise she was for one so young. “I think we must choose to forgive and try to remember what goodness there may have been. And perh
aps one day in the future, we will think about how things were and discover that the pain is gone. That the forgiveness is complete.”

  “That day is not yet,” William said. “But I believe you are right. I can at least begin to forgive him when he has given me such a gift as you.” He paused before continuing. “You once asked me if I was happy.”

  “I remember.”

  “Are you happy, my love? Are you experiencing that joyful state of being in which one is full of contentment and blissful satisfaction?”

  “I am,” she said, smiling at the words she’d tossed at him in anger only a few short weeks prior.

  “I am too,” he replied.

  He drew Louisa into his arms and kissed her––a long, sweet kiss that filled his soul with contentment and blissful satisfaction and joy for the future. “Do you think those who rest here have had their peace disturbed by that kiss?” he asked her afterward.

  “I think they would welcome any kind of true affection and love,” Louisa said, clever, sweet woman that she was.

  He kissed her again and then placed her hand in the crook of his arm and led her from the churchyard toward their home and their future.

  Author’s Note

  When I wrote my first Regency novel, The Earl’s Betrothal, I introduced a young married couple named Louisa and William. Louisa was Anthony, my hero’s, younger sister, an open, sparkling young woman with a reserved, devoted husband. As I created them, they stole my heart, and I decided it would be fun to go back in time to give them their own romance. And Wager for a Wife was born.

  My Regency novels can be read as standalones; they are complete stories by themselves. But if the reader wishes to read them in chronological order, at present, that would be: Wager for a Wife (Louisa and William), The Earl’s Betrothal (Louisa’s brother Anthony and Amelia), and The Gentleman’s Deception (Anthony’s friend Lucas and Lavinia).

  Happy reading!

  About the Author

 

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