For the rest of the afternoon, Chloe modeled several ready-made dresses, over which the ladies all oohed and ahhhhed, but in which Chloe felt vastly uncomfortable. She wished she could say her old gowns were comparable and acceptable, but now that she wore truly fashionable dresses, she realized just how inadequate her old wardrobe was.
And virginal. She was no debutante, and therefore the whites and pastels were no longer suitable. Thus the stream of reds, greens and dark blues she’d been forced to model all afternoon.
By the time they left the modiste, Chloe wanted nothing more than to lay down for a long nap, but it was not to be. At least not yet. They still had bonnets and ribbons and gloves to shop for, so the entourage made their way through the Burlington Arcade, patronizing one shop after another. Chloe had hoped to ascertain which of the ladies was her benefactress, but whoever it was, she was a sneaky woman. She supposed it was easy to be sneaky when every shop owner knew who you were and was able to apply credits to your account with nary a word on the subject.
At three o’clock, as she stood at the milliner’s counter, Chloe began to feel a bit overwhelmed. She did not mean to raise any alarm, and so she slipped quietly from the shop, eager for a bit of fresh air and quietude.
Sometime in the course of the afternoon, it had begun to rain. She breathed in the cool, damp air and slumped against the bit of marble wall that separated the hat shop from the jeweler. Her feet ached, and her head hurt, and she just wanted to go home.
***
Andrew rounded the corner into the pavilion of the Burlington Arcade. It had begun to rain and he'd been caught without an umbrella, so he thought to take shelter there and perhaps pick up a box of cigars for his elder brother's birthday. He was whistling to himself, feeling good after having visited his solicitor on the Strand. His ventures continued to pay off and soon he'd be richer than Midas. They were on the dawn of industry, he was sure, and his careful investments in the textile mills had thus far earned him a killing.
He was about to turn into the tobacconists, when a certain red-head caught his eye. He smiled wide. The poor woman looked as if she would rather be anywhere other than where she was, which was on a shopping trip with the Lionesses.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Hawthorne.”
Andrew approached her cautiously, though she still started a bit as he approached, and a girlish blush rose to color her cheeks. He smiled. She averted her gaze.
“Lord Andrew,” she said with a slight curtsey. “I trust you are fine this afternoon?”
He wondered at her cool tone, but chocked it up, for the time being, to her apparently trying day of shopping. Of course, she was probably still angry about the kiss too, but it was best not to relive that moment right now.
“I am indeed, though I must admit, you do not look very well yourself.”
Chloe gave him a weak smile. “I fear your family has it in mind to make me into...well, one of them, I suppose. They’ve had me out shopping all day. Of course, I’m sure you already knew that...Lord Michael.”
Andrew reared back at her suddenly biting tone, though it should not have surprised him one bit. She'd figured him out, which would account for her tone. Still, he didn’t care to incriminate himself.
“Why on earth would you think I was Michael?”
“Did you think I was so naïve that I would not figure it out?”
“Naïve, no. Stubborn, most definitely.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
He moved in closer to her and lowered his voice. “It means that I knew you wouldn’t speak to me unless you thought it wasn’t me.”
Chloe’s mouth dropped open. “So, it was you?”
Andrew gave her a smile to say “guilty as charged.” She seemed taken off guard, even though she’d been the one to figure it out. “What was it?” he wondered.
“What was what?”
“What was it that gave me away?”
“Chloe,” she said simply. “It didn’t register at the time, but later on, as I replayed our conversation, it occurred to me that you called me by my given name.”
“Really?” Andrew’s brows rose in surprise. How could he have made such a glaring mistake and not realized it? “And are you angry with me?”
“Horribly.”
Andrew smiled at the scowl on her forehead. He wished they were somewhere that he could kiss her until she forgot all about her anger. As it was, he could only use words to diffuse the situation.
“Chloe, I’m sorry,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I meant to tell you last night, but...”
“It’s all right.”
“It’s not. Clearly I’ve upset you.”
“Frankly, Andrew, I’m too exhausted to feel much of anything right now.”
“Well, the Lionesses can do that to a body. I’ve had to succumb to many a shopping trip in my day, but don’t worry, it will all be over soon.”
“Chloe! There you—Oh, Lord Andrew.” Elizabeth slipped out the shop door and made her way to them. “What are you doing here, darling?”
Trying to figure out a way to get your cousin alone. “I was just passing through, when I found dear Mrs. Hawthorne resting against this wall. It seems she is not accustomed to the shopping habits of the ton.”
Elizabeth shifted her gaze from him to her cousin, concern etching her brow. “Are you all right, dear? Perhaps we should go home now. I want you to be well rested for tonight.”
“Tonight?” Chloe pushed away from the wall, suddenly alert. “Why? What is tonight? I thought we were to have a night of rest.”
“Lady Eastleigh has invited us to dine with the family this evening, weren’t you paying attention? You will be there too, won’t you, darling?”
Andrew almost didn’t hear the question. Poor Chloe looked as if she would rather attend her own hanging than another social function.
“Of course I will be there,” he replied.
He had not in fact planned on attending a family dinner that evening. He supposed it was one of his sister-in-law’s last minute ideas. Nonetheless, it might present the opportunity he’d been looking for.
***
“You know, Michael, Mrs. Hawthorne is a lovely woman. You’d be remiss, in my opinion not to show her special attention.”
Michael shot a look to Andrew while their sister droned on about Chloe. Andrew didn’t know how to explain the shot of jealousy that ran through him at the simple thought of his brother courting her. He was betrothed, for God’s sake. How could he be jealous?
Very easily, he mused as he thought of the young widow. God, how he wanted her. How he wanted to end things with Elizabeth and run away with that silly little ginger-headed woman.
“Katherine, you may go on all day about Mrs. Hawthorne and her qualities—which, I admit, are many—but I fear my interests lie elsewhere.”
Andrew tried to hide his smile. How sporting of his brother to throw himself in front of the proverbial carriage for him.
“Oh, Michael, you must tell me who she is!” Katherine suddenly adopted the persona of a fourteen-year-old schoolgirl. “Do we know her? Is she here in London? When shall we get to meet her?”
Michael dared a glance at his brother—a glance that said “you owe me for this”—and then turned back to Katherine. “I must insist on keeping her identity a secret for now. I’m so sorry to disappoint.”
Katherine looked as if she might pout, but then her eyes narrowed, and the guessing games began. Their sister was convinced she had a gift for reading people, and so whenever someone insisted on keeping a secret, she insisted on guessing. She was sure if she guessed the right name, she would know just by looking at them.
Unfortunately for her, as far as Andrew knew, there was no mystery girl to speak of. Michael really was tops when it came to brothers.
***
After a nap that was far too short, Chloe donned one of the ready-made gowns she’d come home with that day, and prepared for dinner with the Wetherby clan. She
was so nervous that Sarah had to admonish her several times for fidgeting, first with her dress, then her hair, and then the pins that were supposed to go in her hair. But she couldn’t help herself.
Standing there with Andrew that afternoon had been so wonderful. That was the only way to describe how she felt when she was with him. Well, wonderful and terribly nervous, if she were being completely honest.
And guilty. Wonderful, nervous and guilty. What a truly wretched combination of feelings! She slammed her bare hand down on her vanity in frustration.
“Mrs. Hawthorne, are you quite all right?”
She looked up at Sarah, who still held her head in her capable hands. Somehow, she’d forgotten the girl was there.
“I’m sorry, Sarah,” she muttered. “I’m fine, really.”
The maid, knowing her place, went back to the task at hand. Chloe, on the other hand, did her best to push Andrew Wetherby from her mind.
He was, after all, her cousin’s fiancé, she reminded herself for what seemed like the hundredth time that hour.
Fourteen
Dinner was to be, Andrew noted, as always, a lively affair at Eastleigh House that night. Already, the drawing room was filled to the brim with Wetherbys, their offspring and close family friends. Three generations flitted about, chatting and laughing, while they awaited the guests of honor.
Andrew had just poured himself a glass of brandy when Michael pulled him aside.
“I should tell you that Elizabeth will be rather eager to be alone with you this evening,” he said, taking a glass from Andrew.
“That isn’t really news, is it? She’s been trying to corner me for months.”
Michael looked at him, surprised. “What do you mean by that? Surely you’ve at least kissed the girl.”
Andrew winced, realizing just how awful it must seem that he had never taken any liberties with the woman who was to be his wife. It wasn’t like him, and his brother knew that.
Michael’s jaw hung open. “You’ve been engaged for two months already,” he hissed. “And you haven’t had any problems defiling proper girls in the past-²
“Would you lower your voice, please?” Andrew begged of his brother. “I just can’t bring myself to do it.”
Michael almost laughed but clearly thought better of it. “Listen, Drew, you can’t go on like this much longer. She’s desperate for something from you. A sign of your affection.”
“And what if she never gets it?” Andrew wondered aloud, the wheels in his head beginning to turn. “Do you think she will call off the engagement?”
“Hard to tell.” Michael shrugged. “She might just tell herself that you’re too much of a gentleman to do anything untoward before you’re married.”
“I was afraid you'd say that.” Frustration mounted in Andrew’s gut. “Then what the devil am I supposed to do?”
Michael scanned the room before turning back to his brother. “Follow me.”
***
When Chloe and Lizzie arrived at Eastleigh House for dinner that evening, they were greeted by a room full of people. The parlor was brimming with children and adults alike, playing games by the fire, having drinks in the corner or gossiping in the sitting area. It was altogether heartwarming and disarming at the same time.
“I thought it was a family dinner,” Chloe whispered to her cousin as they were ushered through the drawing room doors.
“It is,” Lizzie replied with a smile. “Though I daresay their family extends a bit further than our own.”
“Welcome, Lady Elizabeth, Mrs. Hawthorne!” Lady Eastleigh bundled up to them and took them both by the hand. “Oh, how delightful you look, Mrs. Hawthorne. A fine choice this dress was, don’t you think, Lady Elizabeth?”
“I do! I think this shade of gold is certainly her color.”
“Her color, indeed,” the marchioness replied. “Now, come and meet the rest of the family.”
Chloe nodded and curtsied her way through introductions. Of course, she already knew the women of the family, but she’d yet to meet many of the men, and none of the children. She couldn’t help but notice what an attractive family her cousin was marrying into—the men were all strapping and refined, and the women elegant and beautiful.
Almost as soon as the introductions were finished, the butler announced dinner, and all the children were sent off with the nursemaids. That's when Andrew and Michael finally joined the party.
“There you are and just in time,” the marchioness said. “Michael, you will escort Mrs. Hawthorne.” Was that a wink she gave him? “Andrew, I think you know where your duty lies?”
“Indeed,” Andrew answered, flying to Lizzie’s side.
Or was it Michael?
“Mrs. Hawthorne?”
Chloe looked up and knew immediately that it was not Michael who stood before her, but Andrew. They had done it again, the snakes.
“Do you really think you can fool your family?” she whispered.
Andrew smiled covertly and proffered his arm. She took it and they began to walk together into the dining room. “We used to do it all the time as children.”
“Yes, but you aren’t children anymore, and you weren’t with me for five minutes before you made a slip last night.”
“Touché,” he drawled. “But I’m willing to take my chances.”
Chloe’s heart gave a flutter as Andrew deposited her into her chair, which happened to be next to his. Clearly God was testing her in all this. But she chose to ignore her misgivings and settled in to try and enjoy her dinner.
As soon as the first course was placed in front of Chloe—some sort of green soup that smelled delectable—the Duchess of Weston addressed her.
“Mrs. Hawthorne, might you entertain us with stories of your life in the country?” she asked, her black eyes sparkling.
“I’m afraid my quiet country life is rather boring in comparison to the city,” Chloe replied, hoping that would turn the interest away from her. She already felt horribly unnerved with Andrew next to her, pretending to be Michael.
What if she slipped up and revealed their ruse to the family?
“But you must have some anecdote for us—a childhood story perhaps? Have you many brothers and sisters?”
“Goodness, Katherine, leave the poor girl alone. I daresay she’s already overwhelmed just being here.”
Chloe was grateful to Andrew for coming to her aid, but she couldn’t bear the stricken look on the duchess’s face.
“Oh, I suppose—” Chloe tried to intercede, but it seemed she was already forgotten.
“Is that to say our family is so overwhelming?” Katherine shot back, clearly affronted.
“I’m sure we can be to those who are not used to us.”
“No, you’re not at all—”
“What do you think, Phoebe? Did we intimidate you at first?”
Chloe sat back with a smile. Cleary, no one really cared what she had to say anymore and she was grateful, since she really had nothing of interest to contribute. Furthermore, the exchange amongst the Wetherby siblings was far more exciting than anything Chloe ever could have come up with. It made her think of dinner with her own family, gathered around their rustic table in the cottage, shooting barbs and laughing at one another. Of course, instead of a seven-course meal with roasted pigeon as the main course, they usually had pork and potatoes. Or sometimes just potatoes. Her father's meager salary couldn't always provide them with meat.
The evening progressed, and Chloe noted, with delight, the closeness of the Wetherby family. Their energy was infectious and by the end of the meal, her jaw hurt from smiling so much. The procession back to the drawing room for tea was filled with laughter as they all debated over what divertissement they preferred.
Lord and Lady Hastings decided to engage the dowager marchioness and Lady Grimsby in a game of Whist. Lady Eastleigh and her husband took to the piano, and Lizzie and Michael joined them. Chloe held back slightly. She felt guilty for knowing that the man her cousin t
hought was Andrew was actually Michael. And she hated that it made her happy.
“So, are you overwhelmed?”
She turned on her spot to find Andrew standing directly behind her. Her breath caught slightly. His gaze was so very intense.
“Ah, no, actually,” she managed. “It’s wonderful. It makes me miss my own family.”
“Would you take a walk with me, Mrs. Hawthorne? My brother has some of the most exquisite gardens you'll find in London.”
Caught slightly off guard, she cast a glance toward her cousin, who stood blissfully unaware that Michael had his arm around her.
“H-how will we see them in the dark? Isn't it better to tour a garden in the day?”
“Not if it is the moon vine you wish to see.”
“But what of a chaperone?”
“You are the chaperone, Chloe. Besides, Katherine was encouraging Michael to get to know you better just this afternoon. I'm sure she would be delighted to see us escaping for a moonlit stroll.”
Chloe swallowed. It was so wrong of her to even be tempted to accept Andrew’s invitation. But somehow, she just couldn’t help herself.
“I would be delighted to see the nightshade, my lord.”
***
Andrew walked with Chloe out the doors to the terrace and led her down the stairs into the garden. She looked hesitantly back toward the house, but he urged her on. He needed to be alone with her. To kiss her and feel her. He just hoped she wouldn't push him away this time.
He had almost felt sorry for her back in the drawing room. Clearly, she was torn between duty to her cousin and her desire for him. As a matter of fact, he should have been torn as well. But he was far too elated to feel anything but pure victory just then.
They reached a rose-covered arbor and he led her inside. She hesitated once again.
“Will we not be missed?” she asked.
Andrew shrugged. “I think the others were quite engaged in their activities. Surely, a few minutes out here won’t cause a fuss.”
She looked around again. “Yes, I suppose you’re right,” she answered with a sigh. “Although...”
The Wary Widow Page 11
