by Cheryl Bolen
How sweet that he would even contemplate allowing her—skinny, plain, dowryless, outspoken Sally Spenser—to attempt to fill his beloved Diana's shoes. All for the love of his children. For Sally had no delusions that he had any love or desire for her.
She respected him even more in view of the fact if he merely wanted a stepmother for his children, he could have secured the hand of a lady in possession of far more beauty and fortune than she. But he was not seeking the best wife for himself but rather the best mother for his children. How completely unselfish he was being!
She looked at his hand covering hers. In her whole life she had never felt closer to another being. His very touch sent her heart soaring. She knew he would never love her. At least not as a man loves a woman. But she loved him so thoroughly, she could not deny herself this fleeting chance to grasp the next best thing to possessing his heart, to possess his respect and his name. It was more than she had ever thought to secure in a lifetime.
There were so many reasons to accept his suit, not the least of which was the intoxicating prospect of being mother to Georgette and Sam. How she would love spoiling them! By marrying their father she could also ensure that they would never have to suffer a mean-spirited nurse or an unfeeling stepmother.
Also, there was the heady vision of a future in which she and George could intertwine their lives in a common purpose. From his apology, she realized that she might even wield some influence over him. Would that she could put a stop to his self- destruction.
Already, the bond of the children was a stronger one than that with which most married couples began their marriages.
Oh yes, even without a chance of owning his heart, she would be happy to be George's wife. She gently squeezed his arm. It was the most intimate gesture toward an unrelated man of her entire two and twenty years. "You honor me, my lord," she finally managed.
"What? No tart words, Miss Spenser?"
She wondered that she could even hear him for her heart was pounding so furiously. "No, my lord. I confess you've left me speechless—for once."
"Then am I given to believe you will honor me by becoming my viscountess?"
My viscountess! The very thought robbed her of breath. "I care for your children—and for you, my lord—far too much to deny you." Oh goodness, why had she made herself seem such a foolish, adoring featherbrain?
"And I care for you too much to mislead you, Miss Spenser. You realize the marriage will be . . ."
"Unconsummated," she answered.
"Exactly, though I'm surprised a maiden such as you understands the meaning of the word."
The liquid warmth that had filled her since hearing his proposal spread to center between her thighs. Oh, she understood much more than that. Lord Sedgewick had a most disturbing effect upon her! "Actually, I learned that word in Romeo and Juliet when I was twelve. Because it was then unfamiliar to me, I had to look it up. One can learn a great deal from reading, my lord, and I read a great deal."
He burst out laughing as he continued to pat her hand. "You know, Miss Spenser, I believe we will deal very well together."
She smiled up at him. "I believe we shall. First, though, you must call me Sally."
He lowered his voice. "And you are to call me George."
She took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. "Do we tell the others now?"
He clasped her hand within his. "If you wish."
Even though George did not love her, Sally felt like shouting her joy from the steeple of the Bath Cathedral. She and George were to be partners for life! Together, with her cherished Sam and Georgette, they would be a family. "I suppose we should first iron out details." She turned and offered him her broadest smile. "When should you like to marry?"
"I could get a special license, and we could marry by next week."
She would like that very much. The sooner the better, for she feared George might change his mind. "You do know I have no dowry to speak of."
He nodded. "You have other . . . attributes that entice me."
She laughed. "I never realized my love for children would come to bear so importantly in my life's plan. Oh, George," she said wistfully as she gazed into his eyes, "we will have such great fun with the children!" As he looked warmly down at her, a smile playing at his lips, she thought he seemed happier than he had in these two years past.
"I shall have to inform Mama—and I suppose Edmund."
"You are out of charity with your brother?" he asked.
"Of course I'm out of charity with him! He did his best to have me marry Mr. Higginbottom, who is no less than eight and sixty years of age."
"The Mr. Higginbottom who owns the brewery?"
She sighed. "The same."
"Then I should be grateful that a large fortune is not important to you."
She squeezed his hand. "I could not marry a person for whom I held no affection." Oh dear, she had unintentionally blurted out her feelings.
"Then I should also be grateful that your concern for my children has transferred to their father."
"I can scarcely remember back to a time when I did not know you, George. You've always been . . . like family to me."
"Now we will be family," he said contentedly. "Bath Cathedral next Thursday?"
Her eyes moist, her dimples piercing happy cheeks, she nodded. "But let's wait to tell the others when only family is present." She disliked being scrutinized by an obviously jealous Miss Johnson, and she did not think she could bear the pitying glances Appleton and the twins would likely give George. He could have done so much better.
They had now circled the room twice, which was already once more than Miss Johnson had allowed Appleton to escort her. The poor fellow. Mr. Appleton was but the younger son of a baronet. A pity he was not the elder Appleton.
"I believe I shall ride to Surrey tomorrow and speak to your brother. Whether you are close to him or not, it's my duty to do so."
It had been a long time since George was so in tune with his duties.
Mission accomplished, her betrothed was now anxious to be away from the Pump Room. He walked again with both ladies back to Blankenship House, where he said farewell at the door. Then he turned to his sister. "I shall arrive early tonight because there is a matter I wish to discuss with you. I'll ask Felicity and Thomas to meet here as well."
"How ominous sounding you are," Glee said.
Miss Johnson moved closer to George, looked up at him and fluttered her lashes, then spoke. "You will be at the Pump Room tonight, will you not, Lord Sedgewick?" Miss Johnson asked.
It was to Sally he replied. "Indeed I shall."
* * *
George hurried back to Westgate Street, hoping to arrive before Georgette went down for her afternoon nap. He scurried up the two flights of stairs and opened the door to the nursery. His daughter was in the process of affixing a bonnet upon the head of that huge cat of hers when she looked up and saw him.
Her large brown eyes widened in mirth. "Papa!" She ran to him. "Have you come to read us the story you read yesterday?"
"If you like, love. But I've come to tell you something I believe will make you even happier." He scooped her into his arms and carried her to the big rocker. From the corner of his eye he watched Sam, who stayed several feet away, his thumb shoved into his mouth. Never mind the lad, George thought. He was too young to understand the importance of what was occurring, anyway. The importance of the sacrifice his father was making for his children.
"Oh, tell me the surprise!" Georgette said as she slid her little arm around her father's neck.
His heart began to flutter. Good lord, but he really had come too far to back out now. It was a grave step he was taking.
"What is it, Papa?" Georgette asked again.
"I have decided to marry Miss Spenser so you can have her for your mother." There! It was out, never to be retracted. Now, to watch his daughter's reaction.
It was all he could have hoped for. Georgette's face brightened and both her arms looped
around his neck. "My wish! It did come true!"
He held her to him. "What wish, love?"
"Every time I see a star I wish for Miss Spenser to be my mother. That is what I wished above everything. It's what I told Aunt Glee I should like last Christmas, but Aunt Glee said that was not a proper present."
He held her tightly to him, contentment and joy filling his heart. Then Georgette scooted off his lap and ran to her brother. "We are to have a mother, Sam!"
The boy obviously did not understand what his sister was saying. She dropped to her knees and spoke sweetly to him: "Would you like Miss Spenser to come live here?"
His thumb still in his mouth, Sam nodded, and he turned hopefully toward the door.
* * *
That night they all gathered in the drawing room of Blankenship House. Felicity had been late, which was not uncommon for his eldest sister. George had spent the past few hours deciding how he was going to inform his family of his decision to marry Sally Spenser.
He was keenly aware that the announcement would come as a great surprise to them, especially in light of his avowal to never remarry, to never allow anyone to replace Diana in his heart.
He was also sensitive to Miss Spencer's feelings. He could not very well treat her as if she were a prize mare he had purchased for his children. Nor could he allow others to think he would marry where there were no feelings of love. It would not be fair to Miss Spenser to have others think she had no worth to him as a woman.
For her sake, he would allow others to believe that he was, indeed, ready to remarry. With heavy heart, he vowed to keep his love for Diana buried within the deepest chambers of his heart. For Sally's sake, he would no longer speak of Diana.
Even though Sally knew he could never love her, he could never humiliate her. She was too important to the children—and to him.
"Do tell us the great secret," Glee urged once they were all seated in the fire lit room.
He came to stand beside Sally, who looked her best with her hair in golden ringlets and dressed prettily in a saffron gown. He drew her hand into his.
The only sound heard was the crackling in the grate.
"Miss Spenser and I wanted those of you in this room to be the first to know." He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. "Miss Spenser has done me the goodness of agreeing to be my wife."
For several seconds, the only sound heard was the fire. Then Glee sprang to her feet and flew across the room to throw her arms around Sally. "We are to be sisters! I declare, this is the best news I've had in years."
Then she turned to her brother and embraced him. "I'm so very proud of you," she said, not without emotion. "I was not aware you were possessed of such very good sense."
Now Felicity was queued behind Glee to hug her brother. "I, too, am so proud of you, George. You could not have found a finer woman in all the kingdom."
George beamed. "You ladies are not telling me anything I am not already aware of."
Blanks and Thomas followed with congratulations.
"When is the wedding to be?" Felicity asked.
"I've begun steps to procure a special license, with the intention of marrying Thursday next. Tomorrow I will speak to Mr. Spenser."
"Oh, George dearest!" Glee said, "This is such wonderful news!"
"Actually, you are not the first to know," George said to his sisters. "The first to hear of the nuptials was my daughter." He looked somberly at Glee. "Why did you never tell me what she wished for before?"
A fleeting look of sorrow swept across Glee's face. "I . . . I feared such a wish would never be granted."
Sally stood beside her betrothed and possessively set her hand on his arm. Then they all gathered up their wraps and set off for the Upper Assembly Rooms.
Chapter 7
After draping Sally's serviceable black cloak around her slender shoulders, George assisted her into Moreland's waiting carriage for the short ride to the Assembly Rooms. It really seemed decidedly odd to be sitting so close to his younger sister's best friend. Had this been but a single day earlier, Miss Spenser would have been sitting beside Felicity, and he would be sitting next to Moreland.
What a profound difference a day made. Now Miss Spenser was not just his sister's best friend, she was his betrothed, the woman he had chosen to spend the rest of his life with.
Without him consciously summoning such morbid reflection, he winced as he remembered the woman he had thought to spend his life with. And he grew solemn. Oh, Diana, I don't mean to forsake you. I shall never love anyone except you.
Once again he vowed to bury his deep and undying love for Diana. Outwardly, he would honor Sally as if she were the wife of his heart. Only Sally and he would ever know differently.
He pressed her slim hand within his own. How very fortunate he was to have secured her. And how unselfish she was to consent to marry where there no carnal love, only a pure love for the children borne by another woman. He squeezed Sally's hand tighter.
As they drew up to the Upper Assembly Rooms, his chest grew tight. He would have to make the announcement tonight. Tonight he would give the best performance of his life.
The six of them congregated together on the row of chairs reserved for peers and were soon joined by Appleton and the twins. George's friends' puzzled glances at the way he hovered solicitously over Sally throughout the evening did not escape his notice. He only hoped Sally was unaware of their scrutiny. Shielding Sally from his friends' thoughtlessness mattered more to him than betraying Diana by his affectionate manner.
Once George's and Blanks's closest friends gathered around them, George said, "I should like my friends to be the first know I'm planning to remarry." His glance skipped to Sally.
"So you'll be heiress hunting?" Melvin said.
George shook his head. "No, I've already found the woman I'll marry next week." He took Sally's hand. "Miss Spenser."
Melvin's mouth dropped open while his twin, Elvin's, eyes widened appreciatively.
"I know how heartily you detest losing another of your bachelor friends to matrimony," George said to Melvin, "but I shall be extremely offended if you do not perceive how fortunate I am to have persuaded Miss Spenser to become my bride."
George held his breath as Melvin's gaze flitted from George to Sally and back to George.
Fortunately, Melvin was a gentleman. He gathered his composure, turned to Sally, a gentle smile on his face, and bowed. "May I offer felicitations upon your nuptials? It goes without saying Lord Sedgewick is a most fortunate man."
"I should be a complete imbecile if I did not acknowledge that it is I who am the fortunate one." Sally tossed a smiling glance up to George.
"Forgive me if I seem surprised," Melvin added in a low voice. "It's just that with Sedgewick's fortunes being somewhat reduced, I looked for him to marry an heiress."
The devil take him! George thought. What a crass remark for Melvin to make. Did the fellow not remember George had once married an heiress? An heiress he had dearly loved.
"Truth be told, I too thought his lordship could have married better," Sally said. "I only pray he does not come to regret not having done so."
George sucked in his breath. "Never, my love," he said to Sally.
A look of pity on his face, Melvin took Sally's hand and patted it. "Never concern yourself with such thoughts, ma'am. If Sedgewick is determined to wed you, he'll do everything in his power to make it a successful marriage. He can be rather driven that way."
George frowned. He had been driven—with Diana's money—to restore Hornsby Manor. Now he was drinking and gambling away all he had once amassed. Miss Spenser deserved better.
The orchestra began to play, and George turned to his betrothed. "May I have the pleasure?"
She answered him with twinkling eyes and an outstretched hand.
The dance was a waltz. He could close his eyes as he drew her near and almost imagined he was once again waltzing with Diana. Until now, he had never noticed that Sally's tall, lit
he body was almost exactly like Diana's. Such a resemblance had been completely hidden by the facts that Diana was dark while Miss Spenser was fair, and Diana was beautiful while Miss Spenser was plain. He decided he had better keep his eyes open.
Sally felt rather stiff—even shaky, he'd say—at first, but as the two of them talked and he teased her about her shyness, she grew more comfortable in his embrace. She really was a rather graceful dancer, which surprised him. Since she refused to sing, he had always assumed she had no musical talent whatsoever, and dancing did, after all, require some musical talent.
She smelled good, too. Not with an overpowering scent but a light floral one that suited her well. His face came into contact with her golden ringlets, and he had to smile. She wore her hair in curls to please him. Not because she had even the slightest romantic interest in him, of course, but because she aspired to make him a good wife.
In every way but one.
After that first set, George was pleased when Appleton asked Sally to stand up with him. Just as George fell back to drop into a chair, Miss Johnson came up to him, her eyes rounded. "I have just arrived, my lord, and cannot believe what I've been told. Surely you cannot be serious about wanting to marry Miss Spenser! I must have heard wrong."
Were she a man, George would have struck her. "I've never been more serious in my life, Miss Johnson. With the exception of fortune, Miss Spenser is possessed of everything any man could ever hope to gain in a wife."
Her brows lowered. "How could you settle for . . . that when you were married to such a beautiful woman?"
His anger boiled within him. "I fail to see how Miss Spencer's loveliness could have escaped you." He glanced across the dance floor until he caught sight of Sally's saffron dress as she faced Appleton in the middle of the longway, and George feigned a look of pure adoration. "When her hair is curled as it is tonight, there could not be anyone lovelier than Miss Spenser."
George turned his back to Miss Johnson. A rather direct cut for a rather rude woman.
Though George refused to dance with anyone but Sally that night, he took pleasure in watching her being treated with respect by his friends. Each of the twins dutifully took turns dancing with the future viscountess.
