Still Wicked

by Ayers, Kathleen

Spence didn’t care for the way his cousin was watching him. “If you’ve something to say, Nick, say it.”

  The scream of a small child echoed down the stairs effectively halting the conversation.

  “Ah, it seems I’ve neglected a very important business appointment.” He winked at Spence as a knock sounded on the door. A smiling nurse came forward carrying a red-faced child in her arms.

  “Your Grace.” The nurse bobbed while holding the squirming child. No easy feat. “I fear Viscount Lindley is temperamental this evening. Her Grace has asked me to remind you of your promise.”

  Viscount Lindley, a chubby child with dark hair, waved his legs wildly at the sight of Nick.

  “Come, Henry.” Nick reached out his arms, his features softening with love as he took his son. “Have you been torturing your mother? That’s usually my job.” He turned to Spence. “Allow me introduce you to our cousin, Spence, Lord Kelso.”

  Spence frowned at the child.

  Henry giggled and waved his arms in Spence’s direction.

  “I find him amusing as well, even when he is unpleasant.” Nick held his son up in the air. “Think of Cousin Spence as a barely tolerable uncle.”

  26

  Elizabeth stepped out of the coach, inhaling with pleasure as she took in the splendor of Gray Covington, her brother’s estate outside of London. The air here was fresh and clean, more reminiscent of St. Albans with none of the dirty air of the city. The elegant manor house looked exactly the same as it had when Elizabeth was a child. The stretch of magnificent gardens, still showing patches of green despite the coming winter, rolled into a riot of parkland and manmade ponds. She could see the orchards in the distance, the trees beckoning Elizabeth to climb them.

  Gray Covington, much more than the house in London, had been Elizabeth’s home. Her playground. Mother had rarely ventured this far from the city, finding Gray Covington too provincial for her tastes, though she’d certainly taken credit for the beauty of the estate. But Papa had loved it here. He, Elizabeth and Miranda had often lived at Gray Covington while Mother had stayed in London. She thought back to the portrait now hanging in her brother’s London study. Gray Covington was where Papa had felt closest to Sutton’s mother, his beloved first wife. Her father’s sadness, when she looked back on her childhood, was evident. Grief.

  A tiny whirling of skirts burst from the direction of the front door, grabbing Elizabeth against her knees. “Auntie Elizabeth.” A small spray of wildflowers, half-wilted, was held up to her, tied with ribbon. “Look what I’ve picked for you.”

  Lady Madeline Reynolds, Sutton’s daughter, looked up at her before stamping her foot. “Robbie, we were supposed to greet her together. We practiced.”

  Lord Robert, Madeline’s twin and the young Earl of Rothwell, came forward and promptly punched his sister in the arm. “You nearly toppled Auntie over. Here.” Robbie thrust up his own small bouquet. “Mine smell better.”

  “Do not,” Madeline insisted, pushing her brother to the side.

  “Maddie, Robbie. Come here. Your flowers are both equally smelly.” Alex, Sutton’s wife, shook her head in apology as she struggled to keep the baby, Garrett, contained against her hip. She held out one arm. “Elizabeth.”

  Elizabeth came forward, embracing Alex and Garrett with no hesitation. Madeline and Robert clutched around the women’s legs, holding tightly.

  “I’m so very happy to see you,” Alex whispered to her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Is that one of my dresses?”

  Elizabeth had met Alex only once before, when Sutton had come to St. Albans for a visit. Their stay had been brief, but Elizabeth had immediately liked her tart-tongued sister-in-law. “I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t have anything to wear. Sutton thought we were about the same size.” Elizabeth’s eyes moved from Alex’s over-generous bosom to her own. “I have only now realized exactly what he meant.”

  Alex looked down with a chuckle. “I have far too many dresses as it is. Feel free to choose anything you like until we can have a wardrobe commissioned for you.”

  “Am I not to be greeted with bouquets?” Sutton demanded, hands on his hips as he came forward to greet his wife and children.

  “Papa!” The twins immediately began jumping against him. “Do you have a present in your pocket? Mama says you have brought us something.”

  He spread his arms wide. “Search me.”

  Madeline immediately reached into the pocket of her father’s coat, pulling out a small pouch of sweets with a squeal. “Look Robbie, from Gunter’s.”

  Alex released Elizabeth and shook her head at her husband. “You’ve got to stop spoiling them.”

  Sutton came forward and took Garrett from her arms. He kissed Garrett’s head before tucking the baby against his side. “Don’t fuss, Badger. You can feed them both turnips for dinner.”

  “Eww.” The twins regarded their parents with horror before running into the house, already arguing over how to split the small bag of treats. They dodged a small, tidy man in a butler’s uniform, who bowed low before Elizabeth.

  “I’m Zander, Lady Elizabeth. I’ll have your trunk brought to your rooms.”

  “I’m afraid I have no trunks,” Elizabeth said.

  The butler didn’t bat an eye. “Of course. My lord, Lady Cambourne awaits you in the parlor.” He snapped his fingers and two large footmen appeared and headed toward the coach to gather her brother’s things.

  “I’ve taken the liberty of securing you a lady’s maid,” Alex said. “Her name is Bertie. One of the girls from the village.” Alex smiled at Elizabeth, before standing on tiptoe to bestow a kiss on Sutton.

  Garrett let out a wail at being squished between his parents.

  If anyone still doubted her brother had married for love, they need only witness the scene before her. The sight made Elizabeth wistful.

  “Elizabeth?” Sutton took her arm, concerned.

  “I’m only a little overwhelmed, but so happy,” she assured him as they made their way inside to the family’s private drawing room where her Grandmother awaited them.

  Zander opened the double doors to reveal the Dowager Marchioness, perched impatiently on the end of a chair covered in pale green. Her gloved hands unfurled in agitation over the head of her cane.

  Robbie stopped Elizabeth before she could get any farther, tugging urgently on her skirts. “I’ve another present for you, Auntie.” A small dirty handprint smudged her hem.

  She crouched down to be at eye level with her nephew. Elizabeth adored children. A pang of sadness hit her at the thought she’d likely never have any of her own.

  “Robbie,” Alex chastised her son as she came forward, “you’ve gotten Auntie Elizabeth’s skirts dirty.” She looked down at her son who refused to meet her eyes. “March him over to the door and place him in the garden.”

  “But it’s a surprise for Auntie,” Robbie insisted.

  “Toads belong outside.” Alex pointed at the large French doors at the far corner of the room, where the gardens were clearly visible. “Mr. Toad has a perfectly good house behind the willow tree. Your father built it especially for him.”

  “Mama—”

  “I mean it, Robbie.” Alex’s voice was stern. “Out.”

  Robbie walked toward the door, pouting. He pulled the wiggling toad from his pocket and snuck a look at his mother.

  “I’m so sorry, Elizabeth,” Alex said. “Robbie is convinced toads make a perfect gift for any occasion. He presented one to Miranda, wrapped in a box, for her birthday.”

  “Miranda didn’t flinch,” Sutton interjected. “As a child, she was fond of leaving toads in the kitchen for Cook to find.”

  “Yes, but I’ve had a tea party with the entire toad family. I’m the only here who can claim such,” Grandmother said quietly. She held a shaking hand out to Elizabeth. “My dear one.”

  “Grandmother.” Elizabeth went to the older woman and knelt at her feet. Taking her grandmother’s hand, she pressed it to her cheek. �
�I’ve missed you.”

  At her words, the staunch, much feared Dowager Marchioness of Cambourne, grande dame of the ton, began to weep.

  “Please don’t cry.” Elizabeth’s own eyes filled with tears. “I’m here.”

  Madeline and Robbie immediately ran to Grandmother, their small hands patting her knee and back. “I can get you a toad, Grandmama,” Robbie whispered. “I’ve got one just outside.”

  “That will not be necessary, Robert.” Grandmother sniffed. “But I appreciate the sentiment. I’m sorry, Elizabeth. Forgive my lack of control. I…have been so afraid I would leave this world without seeing you again. Your father would be so pleased you are home.”

  At the mention of her father, Elizabeth promptly burst into tears.

  Yes, she’d been safe and sheltered from the outside world at St. Albans, but what a high price she’d paid for such protection. How displeased Mother would be to know all her machinations had only brought Elizabeth back to Gray Covington. If not for her mother, Elizabeth would right now be weeding the garden at St. Albans, oblivious to the love of her family. She would have missed all of this.

  And Spencer. I would have missed Spencer.

  “Now Auntie Elizabeth is sad.” Madeline’s face scrunched up in alarm. “Did Grandmama say something?” She whispered loud enough so everyone overheard.

  “I did not say anything,” Grandmother said, dabbing at her eyes with the handkerchief Sutton produced.

  “Auntie Elizabeth did want the toad. I told you, Mama,” Robbie crowed and raced back toward the French doors. “Mr. Toad is right outside. Waiting. I can get him for you.”

  “No,” Elizabeth laughed, wiping at her tears. “No, Robbie. Later you and I will visit Mr. Toad in his home, I promise. Perhaps we’ll find a fairy or two in the garden. I am just happy to be home, Robbie. Not sad.” She laid her head in Grandmother’s lap, feeling the older woman’s light touch against her hair, comforting her as she used to do when Elizabeth was a child. “I’ve missed you all.”

  Grandmother smelled of verbena water. And love.

  “I’m quite certain there’s a gnome beneath the weeping willow,” Grandmother said with a small laugh. “I distinctly remember you seeking him out long ago.”

  Elizabeth snuggled and closed her eyes. “I’m sure he’s still there. We’ll go in search of him later.”

  * * *

  Once dinner had ended and Elizabeth had kissed all three children goodnight, she faced the prospect of telling her story again, this time to Grandmother. Sutton stayed, but Alex excused herself.

  Elizabeth held back nothing, as she and Sutton had agreed. Grandmother would sniff out anything being kept from her. She didn’t gloss over Kelso’s rescue of her, but deliberately left out their marriage, deciding it was best to leave such a detail for the very end.

  Grandmother stayed remarkably calm during the recitation. She did pale considerably at the knowledge Jeanette Reynolds was roaming about England, unsupervised and insane, her dislike of her former daughter-in-law evident.

  “I find I need a nip of brandy, Sutton.” Grandmother waved her cane in the direction of the sideboard. “This is all a bit…overwhelming. But I sense you have left something out.”

  “There is more, Grandmother,” Elizabeth said, watching as Sutton poured two glasses of brandy. He handed one to their grandmother, the other he gave to Elizabeth.

  Grandmother’s brows raised up to her hairline as Elizabeth sipped at her brandy. “A young girl, especially one raised among nuns, ought not to be drinking spirits.”

  “I’ve developed a taste for brandy,” Elizabeth explained. “Though considering all I’ve been through as of late, if I became a sot it would certainly be understandable.”

  Grandmother’s mouth pursed in disapproval, but she didn’t comment further.

  Elizabeth took a deep breath, wondering how to explain Kelso. “As a married woman, I’m permitted to drink whatever I wish.” Elizabeth had taken her wedding ring off, but now reached into the pocket of her dress and held up the band of gold. “I didn’t want to be peppered with questions the moment I arrived, but we should discuss this now.”

  Grandmother choked on her brandy and cast a look at Sutton. “You knew about this?”

  Her brother nodded. “I did. Elizabeth wished to tell you herself.”

  “I married Lord Kelso. He’s Nick’s cousin and—”

  “Henry Spencer Hammond. I am well aware of who he is.” Her grandmother raised a brow as she spoke Kelso’s full name.

  “Your brother’s escapades,” she paused dramatically as Sutton cleared his throat, “pale in comparison. Arrogant and charming. Attractive. He has a reputation.” Grandmother had narrowed down Kelso to a few very succinct words.

  “I am counting on such a thing,” Elizabeth replied. “Kelso is aware of my…affliction. I will not be forced into society to be awkwardly courted by gentlemen I’ve no interest in. In fact, I need not go about the ton if I don’t wish to. He will make no demands on me.”

  “We would never have forced—” Her grandmother started and held up her empty glass. “Please refill this, Sutton.” Grandmother took a deep breath as if contemplating what to say. “I am not sure if I am more distressed by your mother’s return or your marriage to Kelso. It is such a drastic step to have taken, to saddle yourself with a man such as he.”

  A man such as he. Her husband was certainly terrible at times, but he could also be very considerate. “You would not have thought it drastic had you been faced with Mother and Gustave. Langford possesses a special license to wed me, according to my mother. I would have been married to him before you or Sutton even knew I was missing. Langford wished to have me medically examined, Grandmother.” Elizabeth gave her a pointed look before lifting her chin. “Kelso protected me from that. He will continue to do so.”

  Grandmother set down the brandy snifter. She thumped her cane. “I do not need a lecture from you on Langford or your mother.” Her voice was imperious. “When Langford was merely Lord St. Remy, she tried to marry Miranda off to the man. One wonders why Jeanette doesn’t just marry him herself.”

  “My mother doesn’t fit his criteria for a bride,” Elizabeth stated bluntly. “Nor do I, not any longer.”

  “Elizabeth.” The cane thumped again. “There is no need to be vulgar. I take your meaning. And I do not deny Kelso did you a service.”

  “His presence has helped me with my...anxiety,” Elizabeth said quietly. “I feel—" She paused, trying to decide how best to word such a thing. “I feel as if he is always at my back, even if he isn’t there physically. I know that doesn’t make sense.”

  Grandmother’s eyes were shrewd. Knowing. Elizabeth suddenly felt five years old again, when she’d taken Grandmother’s diamond necklace to dress up her pet cat.

  “I see. I will assume that even if we wished it, you do not want to annul your marriage?”

  “No, I do not.” Elizabeth tossed back the brandy in one swallow watching her Grandmother’s face contort into absolute horror at the sight.

  “Jeanette will come here, I think.” Grandmother placed a finger against her lips as she looked toward Sutton. “When she learns we are not in residence in London.”

  “I agree. The news will be spread in London of Elizabeth’s marriage to Lord Kelso. There is no doubt Langford will hear, even if Jeanette does not. She’ll wish to confirm Elizabeth has married. Once she does, I’m hopeful she’ll move on to tormenting someone else. At least until I can prove Herbert Reynolds didn’t suddenly expire on his own.”

  Grandmother nodded slowly, considering her brother’s words. “You know, Elizabeth, I met Lord Kelso on one of the rare instances he visited London,” Grandmother said. “His reputation is such that few men would approach you if he is in the vicinity. Langford will certainly not wish to involve himself with Kelso. Jeanette, however, will not be put off so easily.”

  “Mother is insane, but short of annulling my marriage, there is little she can do. I made a
practical, logical decision.” Elizabeth echoed Kelso’s words to her before they married. “A good one.”

  Grandmother’s eyes, so knowing, watched her closely. “Of course you did, dear one.”

  * * *

  A short time later, Elizabeth excused herself and went up to her rooms, pleading a headache. Perhaps she’d never have to return to London and could spend the remainder of her days puttering about the gardens and catching toads with Robbie. Sutton had told her, as he walked her upstairs, that she was welcome to live with them always.

  She entered her lovely suite of rooms, smiling at her new lady’s maid, Bertie, who bustled about to ready her for bed. A small cluster of weeds tied with a bit of string sat on her pillow. Another offering from Madeline and Robert. Smiling, she sat down on the bed, clutching the small bouquet to her chest. She was in the midst of her family, yet still the feeling of loneliness persisted.

  Little nun. She heard the whisper against her ear and wished it were really Kelso and not her mind playing tricks on her. The feeling of being untethered, left floating with no way to reach the ground, was unsettling to her. She hadn’t thought the separation from Kelso would affect her so strongly. After all, he’d had no such compunction at discarding her.

  “Bollocks,” she whispered, pressing the hand holding the collection of weeds to her heart. Kelso was unpleasant, aloof and often intolerable.

  She missed him.

  27

  “Ah, Lord Kelso. We have received your request to leave our ranks in pursuit of a more private existence. A highly unusual request coming from you.”

  Pompous ass.

  Spence kept his face bland and polite, clenching his fingers to keep from wrapping them around the older man’s neck and strangling the life out of him. Sir Feathersmith, Spence’s primary contact at the ministry, needed to get to the bloody point. This was the third such meeting he’d had with Feathersmith in the last few weeks and he’d detested every moment he spent in the man’s company.