The Wary Widow

by Jerrica Knight-Catania

  He almost laughed at the hypocrisy of his thoughts, but he was too frustrated, and just a little curious as to what happened between them.

  “The garden, yes...when I...” He hoped his fishing wouldn’t raise any red flags in Elizabeth’s mind.

  “When you kissed me!” she shouted. “And touched me! Good Lord, Andrew, have you been with so many women that you cannot even remember when you were with your own fiancé?”

  Oh, God. “Elizabeth, you must keep your voice down.”

  “I will not!”

  “Do you wish for the whole of your household to know what we did in the garden?” he asked, desperate to calm her.

  “I want you to remember,” she finally said and her voice cracked as if she were holding back tears.

  Damn it, but he felt sorry for her. He was acting like a cad, and she had done nothing to deserve such indifference. He didn’t want to hurt her, and he didn’t want to spend his life pining away for a woman who had made it clear she didn’t want him—at least, not under the circumstances.

  It was time he faced facts and moved on with the life he’d been given. He took Elizabeth by the shoulders and looked into her blue eyes. Then he kissed her on the forehead and pulled her into an embrace.

  “I remember, Elizabeth,” he said quietly. “I remember.”

  Twenty-One

  Chloe blinked her eyes open, unsure of where she was or how she’d gotten there. It took her a moment to realize she was in the bed she and Gracie shared. Her mother sat in the chair next to her.

  “Good morning,” she said with a little smile as she brushed a wild curl from Chloe’s forehead. “We wondered when you were going to wake up.”

  “What happened?” Chloe asked, pushing herself up against the pillows.

  “You took quite a spill on the dance floor. It was lucky Louis was there to catch you.”

  The previous night’s events slowly came back to her. Louis. She’d been dancing with Louis. And she’d been so happy—happier than she’d been in quite some time.

  She vaguely remembered being brought back home in a carriage and being looked over by the local doctor. But she couldn’t remember anything past that.

  “I was so warm,” she recalled, putting a hand to her forehead.

  “Yes, well, our bodies do funny things sometimes.” Her mother stood to pour a glass of water from the side table and then handed it to Chloe. “Especially when we’re in such a delicate condition.”

  Chloe choked on the water she’d just sipped, and sputtered, “Delicate condition?” She must have heard her wrong.

  “Aye, my dear, delicate indeed.”

  No, it couldn’t be true. She’d made love to Sam ten times at least in their short marriage and nothing ever came of it. How could twice with Andrew have resulted in a child?

  “But are you certain?”

  “The doctor is.”

  She did a quick calculation of her last menses and felt a cold chill pass over her.

  “Oh, Lord...” What was she going to do?

  Andrew was about to marry her cousin—they were so close to the wedding, and Chloe was certain that by now he’d have forgotten about her. She wanted to tell him about the baby, but how could she? And for what reason? She’d done enough damage, it was time she took control of her life and faced the consequences of her foolish actions. Even if she had to face them alone.

  “Chloe dear,” her mother broke into her thoughts. “Is it Andrew’s?”

  Chloe nodded, feeling ashamed. What must her mother think of her?

  “Will you tell him?”

  “No,” she replied, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

  “But, Chloe-”

  “I said no!” Chloe felt awful for speaking so forcefully to her mother, since she was in fact angry with herself. “Please, Mama, you mustn’t tell anyone. At least not yet. I need time to figure out what I’m going to do.”

  “What you’re going to do is find a husband.”

  Her mother’s blunt statement shocked her. “I don’t need a husband-”

  “No, but your child will need a father. Imagine the ridicule! You cannot raise the child as a bastard.”

  Her mother was right, of course, but the harshness of the word struck Chloe. A bastard. Good heavens, what had she done?

  ***

  “What the hell have you done?”

  Andrew strode into White’s and straight to the table where his brother sat playing Whist with their mutual friends.

  Michael’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Come again?”

  Andrew glanced to the other men at the table and then brought his gaze back to his brother. “A word, if you please.” And then he walked across the room to a more private table tucked away in the corner. Michael wisely joined him moments later.

  “What is this about?” his brother asked, leaning forward and crossing his arms in front of him on the table.

  “The garden. What happened in the garden?”

  Michael’s cheeks turned pink. Good God, he’d never seen his brother blush before. This was certain to be interesting.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, his words painfully slow.

  “If the redness in your cheeks is any indication, you know exactly what I mean.” Andrew leaned back with an exasperated sigh. “Damn it, Michael, I don’t care that you took liberties with her, but you could have at least told me! She blindsided me this afternoon and I had no idea what to say.”

  Michael shook his head. “I’m sorry, Drew, I should have told you. I just didn’t know how.”

  “Then tell me now, for God’s sake.”

  His brother took a deep breath. “We took a walk in the garden during the Lockwood masquerade.” Michael’s eyes grew wistful as he said, “She came dressed as a wood nymph.”

  “I don’t care how she was dressed,” Andrew assured him. “What did you do?”

  “Right...well, you had been gone for several days already, and frankly, I don’t know how you’ve refused her advances for this long. She’s bloody persistent.”

  Andrew felt his jaw twitch. If his brother didn’t hurry up with his story, he was going to have to beat it out of him.

  “Anyway, there we were, in the moonlight, me in my domino and her with those sparkling eyes, and...”

  “And what?” Andrew practically screamed.

  “Well, you don’t need all the details, do you? I’m not usually one to kiss and tell.”

  Andrew clenched his fists tight to keep from wringing his brother’s neck. “Fine. Are there any other instances I should know about?”

  Michael stiffened and clamped his mouth shut. Andrew shook his head. Clearly his brother had taken many liberties in his charade. But why? He could have treated her, as he said, coolly and with indifference, and Elizabeth never would have been the wiser.

  Good Lord, this was a mess of monumental proportions.

  “Well, then,” Andrew said, standing from his chair. “Thank you for taking such excellent care of my fiancée while I was away.”

  “Don’t be sarcastic with me, Andrew. You’re the one who hied off to Essex to be with the girl’s cousin. God help us if any of this gets out. I was just doing my duty by you.”

  “Rather thoroughly.”

  Michael stood and leaned across the table, his brown eyes suddenly very intent. “I don’t understand,” he began in a grave whisper, “how you can look in those blue eyes and not feel anything. How you can be engaged to her and not have the slightest desire to kiss those lips. How you can hear her plead for your affection and ignore her. I certainly couldn’t, and you cannot fault me for that.”

  Andrew stood glued to his spot as his brother stalked back across the room, collected his coat, and left the club.

  Oh, my God. He’s fallen in love with Elizabeth.

  ***

  The following afternoon, Chloe sat with her mother and Gracie in the kitchen, snapping the ends off of beans. Gracie stared absently out the window, her embroidery resting on h
er lap as her mother darned a pair of old stockings. A light breeze blew through the open door and brought with it a pleasant male voice.

  “Good afternoon, ladies,” the voice said, and all three women looked up to see Louis in the front doorway.

  Chloe immediately stood and self-consciously brushed falling strands of hair from her face.

  “Louis!” she exclaimed. “We weren’t expecting you.”

  “Should I come back another time?”

  “Of course not, Mr. Maltby,” her mother cut in. “You are welcome here anytime.”

  He smiled a sweet smile and stepped through the open door. As he did so, Chloe noticed he held a small bunch of wildflowers in his hand.

  “I wanted to see how you were doing after the other night,” he said to Chloe, “and to bring you these.”

  Chloe took the proffered flowers, feeling a bit unnerved. “I’ll just put these in water.” She started toward the cupboards, but her mother intercepted her.

  “No need, dearest,” she said, snatching the bunch from her hand. “I’m sure I can do that for you.”

  “In that case, may I steal your daughter away for the afternoon?” Louis asked, looking hopeful.

  Chloe nearly groaned aloud. Neither her mother nor Louis sought to conceal their intentions, and she found herself rather annoyed. Especially with her mother. Her mother, who knew of her condition and still wanted to pawn her off on another man. For heaven’s sake, she hadn’t seen Louis in years! And she’d spent less than an hour in his company since he’d been back.

  “Yes, yes, go! Gracie can finish the beans, can’t you, dear?”

  Gracie tried to hide her amusement, but did not succeed. Chloe wanted to throttle her for finding humor in her misery, but she supposed she had no choice now. So she pulled her shawl from the hook by the door and preceded Louis to the outside.

  He followed in silence for a minute, before coming up beside her and matching her brisk stride.

  “You seem to be feeling much better, Chloe,” he said quietly.

  “I am, thank you...much better.”

  “Good,” Louis said, and Chloe noted how happy her simple declaration had made him.

  He led her to his curricle, waiting by the side of the road, and lifted her onto the seat. They rode in silence while Louis drove the horses down the main road and then turned off onto a narrow lane.

  She glanced at him, then back at the road before saying, “Thank you, Louis.”

  “I wasn’t aware I had done anything that warranted gratitude,” he replied, a wry smile lighting his face.

  Chloe smiled back at her old friend as they trundled down the tree-covered lane. He really was a sweet man. They’d had many wonderful times together as children and he knew her well. At least, he’d known her well as a child and that was even better. She wasn’t sure she wanted him to know who she was now—a trollop who had somehow fallen in love with her cousin’s fiancé.

  Her heart gave a little twinge at the thought of Andrew, but she swiftly pushed it away and turned her attention back to Louis. “It can get rather crowded in the cottage with eight of us living there. I’m always torn between wanting to run off to the treehouse alone and staying to help Mama with the household chores.”

  “Have you not considered going back to the home you shared with Sam?”

  Chloe shook her head, even though Louis wasn’t looking at her. “The house was sold a long time ago. I couldn’t bear to live there alone, not to mention, it’s not all that safe for a woman on her own. No, I went back to the cottage mere weeks after Sam passed away—once I thought I could get through a whole night without waking the family with my sobbing.”

  “I’m so sorry, Chloe.”

  Louis’s hand reached out to hers while he kept the reigns firmly in the other. It was warm and somewhat comforting, though she was sure he didn’t know what he was offering comfort for. That was all right, though. He didn’t need to know about Andrew or the baby.

  Her other hand went instinctively to her belly at the thought of the little one growing inside of her. A constant reminder of the man she loved so dearly, but could never have.

  She pulled her hand from Louis’s grasp and he relinquished without a word. “Thank you, Louis, but I’m all right. Truly,” she added when he cast her a sideways glance filled with skepticism. “Sam’s been gone a long time.”

  Louis shifted uncomfortably on the perch beside her. Clearly he felt guilty for not having been there for his very best childhood friend. It had been a rough time, those months after Louis left. He had been like a brother. To both of them.

  “He didn’t blame you, you know?” Chloe said, hoping to reassure him. “He missed you, but he understood why you left.”

  “Did you?”

  The horses slowed. Neither of them was looking at the road ahead anymore, they were intent on one another’s faces. The passing scenery faded away until all she could see was Louis, all she could hear were his shallow breaths of anticipation. Chloe swallowed as his deep blue eyes bored into hers. She knew why he’d gone, why he’d fled without a moment’s notice to Scotland, but she’d hoped that a wife and years of separation would have changed his feelings about her. She nodded, but said nothing.

  It was Louis who finally broke their gaze. He turned his attention back to the road and they sat in silence for a few moments.

  “Where are we going?” Chloe finally asked, curious now that they’d traveled so far from home.

  “A picnic,” Louis replied. His frown had been replaced with a bright smile and Chloe breathed a sigh of relief. She was glad their conversation had not progressed further. She thought of him as a friend and she preferred to keep it that way.

  They fell into an easier time while they picnicked in an open meadow. The sun was bright, but a constant breeze kept them comfortable as they lunched. Sheep baaaed in the distance, birds chirped from the surrounding trees and tiny white butterflies flitted about, hovering just above the tall blades of grass. Chloe smiled at the scene, grateful for the escape from her current reality, from the mess she’d made of her life. Though she couldn’t deny that she longed for different company, she didn’t long to be alone. And Louis was not the worst companion. As a matter of fact, he was quite a nice companion, and not entirely horrible to look at either.

  He wasn’t Andrew, of course. Few men were. But Louis had nice features, fair and soft. Friendly, if not sometimes troubled.

  She wondered briefly what he saw in her face. Could he see the lines of worry that she was certain marred her brow? The heavy circles beneath her eyes from sleepless nights spent dreaming about Andrew?

  Chloe looked up and started when she realized he was studying her. She put a hand to her brow and pushed errant strands of her wild hair to the side.

  “What were you thinking about?” he asked her.

  She hesitated before answering. “I was thinking how nice it is to have you home.” She gave him a bright, sincere smile, which he returned.

  “I’m loathe to admit it, but I’m actually glad to be home. I didn’t think I would be, what with all the scandal surrounding my departure.”

  “Have you spoken with Eleanor’s parents since you’ve been back?”

  A shadow passed over his features and the smile disappeared. With a sardonic chuckle, he said, “I tried. They saw me approaching and sent out their burliest servants to see that I didn’t get anywhere near them.”

  “How awful.”

  “No. I deserved it. I ran off with their daughter and killed her.”

  Chloe gasped, unable to believe his words. Louis turned startled eyes on her, quickly coming to realize what he’d just said.

  “Oh, heavens, no! Not like that, Chloe. Goodness, what do you take me for?”

  “I don’t know!” Chloe shouted. “I haven’t seen or heard from you in years and here you are, confessing murder to me while we’re picnicking in the middle of nowhere.”

  Louis burst into laughter then, propping his arm on the grass
beside him to keep from rolling over in his mirth.

  “Perhaps you would like to explain yourself?” Chloe suggested, trying to calm her racing heart.

  “Ahem...of course.” Louis took a moment to get himself under control and then smiled weakly at Chloe. “Of course I didn’t murder my wife, but I did kill her...in a way. You see, she was giving birth to our son when she died.”

  Chloe sucked in a sharp breath, all at once horrified and nauseated. She said nothing, so Louis continued.

  “It was dreadful,” he said, shaking his head at the memory. “The baby was breeched. And the blood. There was so much blood, Chloe. And all I could do was stand by and do nothing. I just watched her die.”

  Chloe fought hard against the nausea and the overwhelming heat that consumed her. She wanted to be able to be there for Louis as he recalled what must have been the darkest hour of his life. But how could she? She didn’t want to hear this, not while she carried a child of her own. It was too much to handle, far too much to think about. Women died in childbirth every day, but Chloe didn’t want to spend the next seven months thinking about that. And she certainly didn’t want to hear firsthand accounts of the horrors.

  She vaguely registered that Louis was still speaking, going on about the day he watched his wife and child die, but the nausea was too much.

  Before she could spill her accounts all over their lovely picnic, Chloe picked herself up and ran a few yards away.

  “Chloe!” She heard Louis running across the grass to reach her, felt his hand on the small of her back when he approached. “Dear God, Clo, are you all right? Was it too much wine? Was the chicken bad?”

  “No, no, it’s nothing, I assure you,” she managed finally. “Please don’t be alarmed, I...I think perhaps I’ve had too much sun today.”

  “Oh, yes, of course.” Louis looked up at the sky as if to affirm there was indeed a hot sun above them. “Foolish of me to keep you out so long. I’ll take you home straight away.”

  Louis made quick work of cleaning up their picnic and then led Chloe back to the carriage, a gentle hand on her elbow all the way. They spoke very little on the ride home, but Chloe could feel his eyes on her every other minute, studying her pallor, no doubt.