The Wary Widow

by Jerrica Knight-Catania

Her mother sighed, but resigned in the end. She nodded her head in acknowledgment of Chloe’s words and then placed a kiss to Gracie’s forehead. Silently, she slipped from the room.

  Alone with her sister, Chloe began to pray. She was not the praying kind, and she’d rarely stepped foot in a church in her twenty years, but she didn’t know what else to do. If God couldn’t save her, then no one could, she supposed.

  Sixteen

  Heavy footsteps on the stairs heralded the arrival of three men. Andrew rose from his spot at the kitchen table while the older of the three extended a hand to him.

  “Jamie Clarke,” he said with a wan smile. “I’m Chloe’s father.” He stepped aside to present the younger men. “These are my sons, James and Steven.”

  They all shook hands and Steven informed him that he tended to go by the nickname Stevie.

  “Andrew We—” Andrew cut off suddenly, wondering how much Chloe's family knew about Elizabeth and her intended. Chances were they at least knew his name. “Andrew,” he repeated. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  They all stood quietly for an awkward moment. Clearly, no one was sure how to carry on in such odd circumstances. What must they think of him? He still wore his evening clothes from dinner the night before, and he’d brought Chloe home in a crested carriage in the middle of the night. Surely there were going to be questions, but for now, Andrew thought it best to keep the focus on what was truly important.

  “Is there anything I can do for your daughter?” As long as he was there, he might as well be of some use. “Has a doctor come to see her?”

  “Aye,” Mr. Clarke remarked. “But there’s little to be done now.”

  Andrew had to wonder at that. Surely something more could be done to help her. He feared that perhaps the country doctor did not have the resources or that the family did not have the funds to pay for proper treatment. But he did not wish to push the matter further with Mr. Clarke. Even simple farmers had their pride. He would broach the subject later with Chloe.

  “Then might I ask to be shown to the local inn? That is, if it’s no trouble.”

  Suspicious glances passed amongst the three men, but finally the older of the two brothers stepped forward. He had forgotten which was which, but he assumed the eldest was James, named after their father.

  “Stevie and I will take you,” he said. “It’s no trouble at all.”

  ***

  Chloe’s father entered the tiny bedroom not long after her mother had retreated to her room and the Eastleigh carriage had trundled off down the dirt road. Chloe heard him shuffling around for a moment, heard the scraping of wood against wood as he dragged a chair to the bedside, but she didn’t move. She didn’t even have to look up to know who it was.

  Her father’s scuffling gait was unmistakable, and anyone else in her family would have been quick to make their presence known. And she could smell him, like an old boot covered in mud. It was one of her favorite scents in the world.

  Both were silent for a moment, but the silence was killing Chloe. She knew what he wanted to ask, but what could she possibly say?

  And then he surprised her by saying, “Does Lizzie know you’ve brought her betrothed to Essex?”

  Chloe’s heart stopped. How had he known? Did Andrew give his last name? Oh, heavens, what was her family going to think of her now?

  And what was the answer to that question? In a way Lizzie did know. But the real truth was that she thought Michael had left with her evening last. And she believed that it was Andrew with her in London now.

  Chloe shook her head, still not wanting to look at her father. How ashamed she was for what she’d done to her cousin. She hadn’t meant to fall in love, and she’d certainly never planned on kissing the man.

  Her father sighed heavily and Chloe finally dared a look at him. “Does Mama know?” she asked tentatively.

  “So it is him.” He blew out a long breath and threw his head back. “No. I don't think anyone else made the connection, though I daresay it will come out sooner or later. These kinds of deceptions have a way of catching up with a person.”

  “I know.” Chloe released her sister’s hand for the first time since she’d arrived and placed it gingerly at her side. “But Andrew is a twin...an identical twin. Lizzie was under a guise when we left last night. She thinks I left with his brother, Michael.”

  “Ah,” her father said simply. And then he looked with those warm, dark eyes at Chloe. If she wasn’t mistaken, they held a hint of disappointment. Or perhaps it was hope. “Well, I trust you will do what you know is right, Chloe. You’ve always been my brightest girl, you know?”

  Chloe smiled at her father’s praise and then turned back to look at her sister. “You shouldn’t say that, Papa. Gracie’s smile is like a ray of warm sunshine.”

  “I don’t deny it,” her father replied. “But you are my brightest.” He stood and planted a kiss on her forehead. “I’m going to go check on your mother.”

  He moved to leave the room, but Chloe stopped him. “Papa,” she said quietly. “Did he say anything...I mean, before he left?”

  She couldn’t deny the slight pang she’d felt when she heard the carriage pull away only minutes before. And she wouldn’t have asked, but now that her father knew, what harm could be done?

  “No, he didn’t,” he replied with a sympathetic half smile.

  Chloe’s heart constricted. She’d known he would leave as soon as he dropped her off, but part of her had hoped he might stay, just for a while. Or at least say good-bye.

  “Although...” Chloe looked up to find her father still standing in the doorway.

  “Yes?”

  “I imagine he’ll have plenty to say over dinner tonight.”

  And with that, her father quit the room.

  ***

  Andrew looked around the tiny room to which he’d been assigned at the local inn. Although the Penwick Arms Inn seemed old, it was clean and the bed appeared comfortable. Hopefully, for Grace’s sake, he wouldn’t be here long.

  He called for a tub of hot water and a hot meal and then undressed down to his breeches. When the little maid arrived with the requested items, she blushed and curtseyed before leaving the room with a giggle. Several weeks ago, Andrew might have been tempted to enjoy a dalliance with the girl, but not today. Not ever again.

  The only person I care to dally with is my wife. I’m sure you’ll feel the same way...one day.

  His oldest brother’s words rang in his ears, and he finally understood what he’d meant. And that it could only mean one thing: he’d fallen in love with Chloe Hawthorne. The petite, ginger-haired beauty had stolen his heart.

  But what now? He decided to write home to Michael and ask his advice in the matter. Perhaps he’d be willing to bring Lizzie here, so they could explain in person, for he couldn’t countenance leaving Chloe—at least not until it was for certain that her sister would pull through her fever. On second thought, perhaps his brother would be willing to maintain the charade until they could return.

  Either way, a letter to Michael was in order.

  ***

  Chloe sat with her sister all day while the rest of the family rested and tended to neglected household chores. Periodically, they stopped in to check on Grace’s progress—or lack thereof, in this case—but it was nearly sundown when Andrew stepped into the room.

  He wore the same clothes from the night before, only he’d forgone the intricately tied neck cloth. She couldn’t blame him. People did not dress so elegantly in their little parish. But there was no denying his status even without the neckcloth. Tall and lean, he walked with an air of confidence, and he had the face of an aristocrat. A face that made Chloe’s heart leap when she saw it.

  “May I?” he asked from the doorway.

  Chloe nodded. Andrew ducked through the small doorway and came to stand next to her at her sister’s bedside. He looked first at Grace, then Chloe, and she could have sworn her heart ceased its beating. His eyes held so mu
ch concern it made her want to cry.

  “I thought you had gone back to London this morning,” she admitted, unable to take her eyes from his.

  “You should have known better,” he replied with a little smile.

  “I suppose I do now.” She looked back to Grace and then motioned for Andrew to take the seat on the other side of the bed. “How long will you stay?”

  “Until I am certain your sister will be all right.”

  Chloe blinked up at him, surprised. She’d thought perhaps he would stay a night or two, but who knew how long it would be before Gracie showed any sign of improvement. That was, if she showed any at all.

  “I’ve sent a letter to Michael,” he continued. “We will figure out a way to handle our...situation.”

  Their situation. It was more of a predicament than a situation. One that she was sure would not be easily solved. “My father knows,” she blurted out suddenly.

  It was Andrew’s turn to look surprised. “What do you mean? How?”

  “He just assumed you were that Andrew. Father doesn't say much, but he's awfully perceptive.”

  “And what did he say?”

  Chloe took a deep breath and released it on a sigh. “Nothing. He believes in letting his children make their own decisions—figure out their own course. Though he does make it clear that he hopes we will make the right decisions.”

  “What do you believe is the right decision, Chloe?” Andrew’s voice was low, his eyes searching.

  She shook her head, uncertain of how to answer. “I don’t know,” she finally admitted. “I’ve always believed in following my heart, but look where that’s landed me. To follow my heart would mean to break my cousin’s, and to betray her trust.”

  “But can you betray your own heart?”

  Tears began to fill her eyes. Life had suddenly become so complicated. Only a few weeks ago, she’d been living quietly in the country, content with her status as a widow. Now she sat at her sister’s sick bed, in love with her cousin’s fiancé, wishing she could go back to the way things were before. But knowing she never could. Knowing that now that she’d tasted bliss, she would never be able to forget him.

  “Chloe?”

  Chloe swiped at her dewy eyes and then spun around in her chair at the sound of her mother’s voice. She looked so much better now, having rested the better part of the day. Andrew had already risen and offered a little bow to her.

  “Will you introduce me to your friend?” she asked.

  “Of course. Mother, this is Andrew.” She looked at Andrew. “Andrew, this is my mother, Mrs. Joy Clarke.”

  They exchanged pleasantries, and her mother thanked Andrew profusely for having brought Chloe home so quickly. Andrew, in turn, assured her that he had been happy to do so.

  When the conversation dwindled, her mother asked after Grace.

  “There’s been no change, Mama,” Chloe said grimly. “None at all.”

  “Well, dinner will be ready soon. Why don’t you and Andrew get some fresh air? You will join us for dinner, won’t you, sir?” she asked, though it was more of a statement than a question.

  “If it isn’t too much trouble.”

  Chloe’s mother smiled. “None at all. Now, go on, both of you.”

  Seventeen

  Andrew was glad for the time alone with Chloe. Out here in the country, they could walk freely without judgment, and enjoy one another’s company. And hopefully come to some kind of conclusion about what their future might hold.

  The sun was indeed setting as they stepped out of the small manor house. There was a cool breeze and a dampness to the air that heralded rain. Chloe walked quietly next to him, her arms folded over her chest. She looked exhausted, and he wished he could pull her into his arms and hold her while she slept again.

  Good God, his desire to take care of her was almost overwhelming. But taking care of her meant taking care of her family as well.

  “I would like to call in a doctor from London.”

  Chloe turned to him, shock in her features. “Surely you must realize that my family could not afford the services of a London doctor.”

  He gave her a wry smile. “Pray, take no offense, madam, but I am not blind. Your family’s situation is rather apparent.”

  Chloe looked away. Had he embarrassed her?

  “I’m sorry I said that, Chloe, but...it was my intention to pay for services rendered, if you will let me. Your sister needs help and I daresay the local veterinarian cannot offer proper care.”

  She seemed to think about it for a moment. Andrew wondered why anyone would have to think over such a thing when their sister was lying on her deathbed. He supposed everyone had their pride. But then, when he glanced at her again, he realized tears streaked her cheeks.

  Content that they were a safe distance from the cottage, or onlookers of any kind, he pulled her to him and held her tight. Her body was warm, but she shivered in his embrace. Her hair still smelled like rose water, as it had the night before. He drew her even closer, desperate to ease her tears.

  She pulled back slightly. Her doe eyes blinked up at him with apparent gratitude, and Andrew was helpless to his next move. He lowered his mouth and gently brushed his lips against hers. Her sweet scent mingled with salty tears. He tasted them, as if doing so might make them go away. But the more he kissed her, the more tears that fell.

  He put a hand to her cheek and brushed them away. Chloe’s arms wrapped around his waist and she squeezed him to her.

  “Oh, Andrew,” she whimpered when he took his mouth away to kiss her cheeks and the curve of her jaw.

  “What is it, my love?” he asked, without removing his lips from her person.

  “I-I love you.”

  Andrew stopped suddenly and pulled back. She looked almost pained by the admission. Her brows knitted together and her lips were pulled taut while she awaited his reaction.

  But he didn’t know what to say. Love was a powerful word—one that he’d used so little in his life—but the truth was that he’d never loved anyone like he loved this woman. He loved her with every bit of his soul. How could he not tell her? He opened his mouth to speak, but she stopped him with a single finger to his lips.

  “Don’t say anything now,” she said to him. “Just take me somewhere we can be alone.”

  “Alone?” he repeated, trying not to get his hopes up.

  Chloe nodded. “I need you, Andrew.”

  Oh, God. Those three little words dug deep into his soul, and brought his body to full attention. But what a cad he would be to take advantage of her in this situation.

  “Chloe, not now,” he said gruffly. “You’re grieved and confused. Let us wait.”

  For a moment he thought she might agree and concede, but then her expression changed rapidly into one of indignity. He’d never seen her angry or without control of her temper, but clearly something he said had chafed her.

  “How dare you tell me what I’m feeling right now?” Her voice was surprisingly even despite the words she spoke. “You have no idea what I’m feeling or what I want.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “No!” Angry tears spilled over onto her cheeks. “Do you know how long it’s been? Do you know how terribly lonely I’ve been since Sam died? Or how guilty I feel for even wanting another man? And do you have any idea how scared I am that I might lose my sister?”

  “I know—”

  “No, you don’t know.” She turned her moist brown eyes on him and blinked several times before speaking again; this time her voice was practically a whisper. “When I said I needed you, I meant it. I need you to make me feel alive again. I need you to help me forget, just for a moment, all the terrible things that have happened in my life. I know it’s an awful lot of pressure to—”

  Andrew cut her off with a kiss, unable to take anymore. She was practically begging him to do what he’d dreamt about doing for weeks now. And who was he to argue with her? If she needed him, he was going to provide whatever it wa
s she sought.

  “Where should we go?” he asked, his voice hoarse with desire.

  Chloe gave him a teary half-smile and looked around. “Follow me.”

  ***

  Chloe grabbed onto Andrew’s hand and pulled him down the path through the small patch of trees. When they reached the massive oak that she knew so well, she stopped and turned her face heavenward.

  Andrew followed her gaze. “You wish for me to make love to you in a tree house?”

  Chloe let out a giggle that sounded rather odd since she’d be crying for the better part of the last half hour. “It is the best I can do under the circumstances,” she explained.

  “Shall I go first and pull you up, or do you wish for a boost from behind.”

  “Neither, thank you,” she said, tilting her nose into the air. “I can manage just fine on my own.”

  Without another word, she grabbed onto the small wooden planks that had been nailed to the tree to make a ladder. They were worn from years of use by her siblings and herself, but she shimmied up them with the ease of a nine-year-old boy. Andrew followed quickly behind. The movement of his muscles under his coat intrigued her as he pulled himself up and dusted himself off. He looked around, taking in the interior of the tiny tree house, though there wasn’t much to see.

  A few wooden toys lay on the floor in the corner, but other than that the place was bare. When Andrew finally looked at Chloe, she shivered with anticipation. It barely crossed her mind that he was still betrothed to her cousin or that her sister lay sick in her bed. Or that Sam was the only man she'd ever planned to be with. Fifteen minutes. That was all she needed—all she wanted—to forget that anything existed except the two of them.

  Andrew walked toward Chloe and knelt down in front of her. Then he grabbed her about the waist, pressing his face to her belly. Chloe ran her fingers through his hair and closed her eyes as his hands reached around to her buttocks. Desperate to feel his lips on hers again, she dropped to her knees and took his face in her hands. In one swift movement, Andrew drew her to him and kissed her urgently. She matched his urgency.