Leona, who’d been fighting off the doldrums since their afternoon outing, lifted her head. “Who is handsome?”
Mary’s hands were busily tidying her mistress’s hair, which had become disheveled by the wind. “Andrew Lamb, my lady! I think he might be the handsomest man that ever lived. I know I don’t have any right to notice such a thing, but… it’s true, isn’t it? Isn’t he handsome?”
“Well… I suppose so,” Leona said with a sigh. When she tried to picture Andrew’s face, no image came to mind. She didn’t know why she failed to notice Andrew’s good looks, as she was usually the first person to recognize a handsome face. “That is… I, um… I didn’t really notice. Now that I’m married, I must be blind to that sort of thing.”
“You didn’t notice?” Mary gasped. “Married or not, young or old, maid or lady… I can’t imagine any woman wouldn’t feel the air sucked out of her lungs at the sight of that man’s face. He makes me wish I was a lady, so I could be courted by him. But… I suppose I’d have to be young, wouldn’t I? A young lady? And I’d have to be pretty, of course… to catch the attention of a man like that.”
“But, Mary!” Leona protested, “You are pretty!”
“You don’t have to be so kind, my lady. I already know I’m plain.” She finished pinning Leona’s hair and sat beside her on the bed. “Besides, it isn’t as if I’m seriously considering Mr. Lamb for a beau. I just think he’s handsome. It doesn’t hurt to look, does it?”
“No, it certainly does not,” Leona agreed with a chuckle. “Although... sometimes… the act of looking can get you in a great deal of trouble. I wish I never set eyes on Lord Wintergreen.”
Mary patted her mistress on the shoulder. The maid was the only person in the world who knew all of Leona’s secrets, including the identity of her unborn child’s father. Mary was, at the moment, Leona’s only friend. She needed to confide in someone, and she was happy to be on the receiving end of some comfort.
“My life’s so different now.” As she spoke, Leona’s eyes started to fill with tears. “And I’ll never have my old life back, no matter how hard I wish for it. Sometimes… I wake up in the middle of the night, hoping I’d stumbled on a different reality in my sleep. I close my eyes so tightly, willing myself to wake up in a reality where my mother’s still alive, and I’m going to balls in London and having tea with Silly. In this other reality, I’ve never heard Lord Wintergreen’s name… or Lord Randall’s. But no matter how hard I wish for it, there’s no reality like that out there. This is my reality, and this is where I have to stay. I’ve married a stranger, and I’m going to bear the child of a man I’ll never see again.”
“Wouldn’t it be a blessing if you never saw him again?”
“I hope he rots,” Leona answered with a sneer.
Mary sat in silence. She didn’t know how to begin to comfort someone who seemed so miserable.
“I’ve turned into a liar, too. I have no right to judge Lord Randall for the lie he tried to keep from me, when my lie is ten times worse.”
“Maybe this will turn out for the best?” Mary offered hopefully. “Marrying Lord Randall could be the best thing that ever happened to you, if you give it a chance.”
“Oh, but… he dislikes me so much already! I’m not going to get anywhere with him if I can’t control my temper. I think I’ve already made myself intolerable… I know I shouldn’t storm off like I do. But he shouldn’t have said that about Mr. Lamb! Why would he think I’d rather marry him?”
“Because Lord Randall lacks confidence?” Mary suggested.
“But why? Lord Randall isn’t exactly monstrous. He might not look like Mr. Lamb, but he’s striking in his own way. Besides, I’m through with handsome men. I think my father was right all along. He always warned me about handsome men, and I let one ruin my life. Now all I do is sit here and complain all day. If I start to bore you, Mary, you don’t have to stay and listen.”
“I’m glad you confide in me, my lady,” Mary replied. “I’m happy to lend an ear.”
A knock on the door made Leona freeze. If the person behind the door heard any part of their conversation, her life could, indeed, get worse. “W-who is it?” she called.
“Dubois, my lady.”
When Leona opened the door, she was greeted by the butler’s smiling face, which made her think he hadn’t overheard anything she said to Mary. She didn’t think he would be smiling otherwise. “Yes?”
“Hiz lordship wishes to have dinner with you tonight,” said Dubois. “What shall I tell him?”
“Oh, um… will anyone else be joining us?” she asked. “Mr. Lamb, perhaps?”
“No, I do not think so, my lady.”
Leona hesitated for a moment. She tried to picture herself alone in a room with Tristan. If she accepted his invitation, it would be the first time they had been alone together since their disastrous wedding night. Leona knew she needed to see him eventually. After all, wasn’t her father’s plan hinging on her ability to make Tristan believe her baby was his? Unless he was born yesterday, she would have to get a lot closer to him to convince him. And fast.
“I would be happy to join him,” Leona answered. “At what time should I meet him?”
“I was sent to fetch you right now, if eet iz okay with you, my lady.”
“Of course.” With a quivering smile, Leona waved farewell to Mary and followed Dubois to the dining room.
Tristan was already waiting for her. When he saw her enter, he sprung from his chair. “I was hoping you’d come,” he said.
Leona was staring at the ceiling, mouth agape. “Wow. That chandelier,” she murmured. “It's huge!”
Chuckling, Tristan pulled out a chair for his wife. “I’m glad you like the chandelier. I only wish you liked me half as much.”
The awe on Leona’s face was replaced with a scowl. “You really shouldn’t say something like that. I like you far more than the chandelier, you silly man. How could you suggest otherwise?”
“Well, it is a very lovely chandelier, if I do say so myself,” he chuckled. She didn’t look amused. “I’m trying to be humorous, Leona. Are you always so serious?”
Leona finally took her seat, and Tristan retreated to his. “I’m sorry, my lord. I don’t want you to think I’m completely without humor.”
As soon as they were seated, plates of food appeared before them, as if by magic. Tristan’s servants were few in number, but they seemed very efficient.
As her fork dove into an unidentifiable portion of fowl, Leona said, “My father wasn’t exactly poor, but we never had anything like this chandelier in any of the rooms. You were at our townhouse in London, right? If I’d known you lived in a place like this, our shabby furniture would have embarrassed me. I’m used to everything looking very modest, so… to me, everything in Randall Hall is beautiful. I know I’ve said this before, but I honestly think this might be one of the most beautiful places in the world.”
“I’m glad you think so, Leona. And you are the most beautiful woman in the world, so it is befitting,” Tristan replied, wincing as soon as he said it. “That was… very cliché, wasn’t it?”
“No, not at all. I appreciate the sentiment, although… I’m not that beautiful, surely.”
“No. You are. Truly,” Tristan countered. “An ordinary man like me doesn’t deserve a lady like you. When I told Andrew you were my bride, I thought the shock would kill him. I only met you once… when you were much younger. I had no idea you were the toast of the ton, or that you’d grown into such a ravishing young woman.”
Leona could feel her throat getting dry, so she took a sip of wine. It wasn’t that she didn’t take compliments well. Leona didn’t know if it was the warmth in Tristan’s eyes, or the sincerity in his voice, but she never heard a compliment sound so sincere. “Thank you,” she answered softly.
“You were a child of fifteen when we met… and you were adorable then, of course. I don’t suppose you remember me?”
“Umm…” Le
ona started to nibble on her bottom lip. “I don’t… recall…”
“I daresay I’m a lot less memorable than you,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m sure you didn’t pay much attention to me at all. If you knew I was your future husband, I might have piqued your interest.”
“When I was fifteen, marriage was the furthest thing from my mind. It was… when my mother started to get sick. It’s been several years since she died, but it still weighs heavily on my mind.”
“I’m sorry,” he answered. “I know what it’s like to lose a parent, but I’m sure my pain wasn’t as great as yours. My father was a nag, and my mother rarely acknowledged my existence.”
“That’s terrible.” Leona skewered a forkful of peas as she spoke.
“Unfortunately, it’s not uncommon for ladies to leave their children in the care of a nursemaid. If I was to have children, I certainly wouldn’t--”
Tristan was cut off by the sound of Leona’s coughing. She nearly choked on her peas.
“Are you alright?”
Wheezing, Leona patted her chest. When he mentioned having children, her tongue almost slipped down her throat. She couldn’t help but think it was an ironic conversation to have with him. “I’m sorry, Tristan. I’m fine now.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Tristan was quiet for a few minutes, contentedly chewing his food. When he spoke again, he said, “I wish there was something I could do to make you happier, Leona.”
“H-happy?” she stammered. Why in the world couldn’t she speak clearly when he was sitting next to her? Why did his presence unsettle her so much? “I’m happy enough.”
“I know you didn’t want to marry me. I feel like such a brute for playing a part in forcing you into this arrangement.”
“I really wish you’d stop saying I was forced, because it’s not true. The decision to marry you was mine as much as it was my father’s,” she lied.
“For some reason, I find that hard to believe. The way Andrew spoke, he made it sound as if you could have had any husband you wanted… and yet you ended up with me. I’m sure your mother would have wanted more for you.”
“I think you’re a good man, Tristan. And I am, happy!” she insisted, wagging her fork at him as she spoke. “If you belittle yourself again, I’m going to poke you with this!”
“Now I’m tempted to call myself all sorts of things,” he said with a chuckle, “to see if you’d really follow through with that threat.”
She glared at him through the prongs of her fork. “I wouldn’t test it if I were you.”
Smiling, Tristan took another bite of his food. “So, you have a sense of humor after all.”
“I have more of a sense of humor than you, I’m sure,” Leona added haughtily. “Your jokes seem to revolve around self-deprecation, and I don’t find that funny at all.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever insult myself again, for fear of being chided. Or poked. You’re doing a very good job of defending me.”
“And I would defend you against anyone, should they ever say anything bad about you,” Leona vowed. “Although… I don’t see why anyone would. You're a good man, Tristan. I am the one with faults.”
A young girl came out of the kitchen, holding a rather large cake, which was generously slathered in raspberry sauce and whipped cream. Leona started to involuntarily lick her lips. Lately, she was more hungry than usual. Everything looked delicious.
“No one could find fault in you,” Tristan said, smiling as he watched her salivate over the cake. “You’re perfect.”
If only you knew, Leona thought. “Well, no one will be saying anything bad about me. The only other man in the county is Andrew Lamb, and he seems far too nice to say anything mean.” She sighed. “I’m being sarcastic, of course, but we really are secluded out here. I’m used to being surrounded by people, and now there’s no one.” There’s no one to speculate when your stomach grows, added the voice in her head. “I know I said I was happy, but if there’s anything that makes me unhappy, it is the fact that I have no idea how I should spend my time.”
“You should spend time with me.”
Leona smiled at him. It was the first time she ever smiled at him. “I’d like that.”
“Actually, there’s someplace I’d like to take you,” Tristan said. “Would you like to go with me tomorrow, assuming it doesn’t rain?”
“You’re not going to tell me where you’re taking me?”
“And spoil the mystery?” he smirked at her. “Of course not.”
“Well, then, I would be more than happy to accompany you,” Leona replied. “I like mysteries.”
Had she taken a moment to consider the irony of her words, she might have choked on her raspberry cake.
Chapter Fifteen
“You’re leaving?” Andrew Lamb shrieked—his best effort at sounding affronted. “I come all the way from London, and you’ve hardly spent any time with me.”
“I’m sorry, Andrew. It should only be a few hours,” Tristan answered. “When I get back, we can do whatever you’d like.”
“Oh, I’m not serious, man. If I was the one with the beautiful wife, spending time with you would be the last thing I’d want to do… no offense.” Andrew gave his friend a playful swat on the arm. “Besides, I’m just happy to see you out of bed. I think this wife of yours has helped you in more ways than you know.”
To say that they hadn’t spent any time together was a false statement, when they had actually spent the last two hours drinking port and reminiscing. It was only noon, and Andrew was already showing signs of being foxed.
“It’s still very odd to think of her as my wife,” Tristan said.
“Even more odd… is to think of you as a husband!” Andrew said with a chuckle. “The poor girl.”
“If I’m around long enough to see your wife, Andrew, I’ll have even more pity for her,” Tristan retaliated. “If I’d known how short my life was going to be, there’s no way I would’ve spent so much time lounging in my bed.”
Andrew tried to conceal his frown behind his glass of port. In truth, there was no topic that saddened him more than the topic they were discussing. He hated to think of his friend’s demise. Even if he never came out and said it, Tristan was likely the most important person in Andrew’s life. He had no shortage of female companions, to be sure, but that sort of companionship never lasted long. Tristan, on the other hand, had always been there. “Well… there are no guarantees in life. Doctors have been wrong before, haven’t they? Who’s to say you don’t have ten years left… or even twenty? That heart of yours might surprise you.”
“You could be right, Andrew, but I’m not going to take anything for granted. I’m going to live every day like it’s my last.”
“That’s a good attitude to have. That’s probably how everyone should live, regardless of how much time they have left. So… how would you spend your last day, Randall?” Andrew asked.
“With Leona,” his friend answered simply.
* * *
“A horse?”
“Yes, that’s typically what they are called,” Tristan teased his wife. “Although, you could also call it a mare or a bay, and you’d be just as correct.”
Leona stared at the beast for several seconds, as if expecting it to grow a unicorn horn. “And where, um… where exactly is my horse?”
“Oh… about that…” Tristan, with a nervous chuckle, patting the animal on its snout. “I was sort of hoping we could… ride together.”
“On the same horse?”
“Well, yes. That’s basically what I had in mind. Unless, of course, you don’t want to?”
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Leona said. “It’s just that I’ve never ridden on the same horse with someone else. It seems like a very intimate thing to do.”
In one quick motion, Tristan hoisted himself onto the horse. He started to extend a hand toward her, but quickly retracted it, “If you’re uncomfortable with it
, I can have John fetch another horse right now.”
“No, it’s not that I’m uncomfortable with it. I’m being silly, of course. You are my husband, after all. It’s not as if I’ll be riding with a complete stranger, and even if I was, it’s not like it would be that big of a--”
“You’ll have to put your arms around me,” he interrupted her.
Leona held out a hand to Tristan. “Well… are you going to help me on or not?”
Tristan took her hand and swept her onto the horse. She was sitting behind him, and he could feel her relax against his back. “You’re not uncomfortable?” he asked. “I’ve always thought it must be very bothersome for a woman… to have to ride sidesaddle. I won’t say anything if you choose to ride with one leg on either side.”
“I’m used to riding sidesaddle,” Leona answered. “I really don’t mind.”
“Well… hold on tightly.”
Leona slipped her arms under her husband’s arms and wrapped them around his chest. He felt very wide and masculine, which surprised her. She never thought he looked frail, but he didn’t look particularly powerful either. When she wrapped her arms around him, he made her feel tiny.
“Tighter,” he commanded.
“Why? Are we going to ride fast?”
Tristan chuckled. “No. I just like feeling your arms around me. Being this close to you makes me a very happy man.”
Leona untangled one of her arms and gave him a playful swat on the head. “I didn’t know you had thoughts like that, Lord Randall. I thought you were a perfect gentleman!”
“I am,” he agreed, “but not around my wife, apparently. Until I married you, I had no idea I could be such a cad.”
Leona slipped her arm around him again, and did as she was told. She tightened her grip on him even more. “Well… wanting my arms around you doesn’t make you a cad. I can think of many things that would be far worse.”
“Oh, really? Care to enlighten me?”
The Fallen Woman (A Regency Romance) Page 9
