“Girls,” Sam snorted as Charlie gave him a leg up onto his pony, a fat little chestnut named Darby.
Theo smiled benignly upon the cavalcade, saying to Knight, “If you tire of her, sir, I shall take her. She’s just a little girl, after all.”
“I shall survive, Theo.” He mounted easily, Laura Beth tucked under one arm. Then he settled her in front of him. “Onward, troops.”
It was just as they turned the corner onto Oxford Street that Knight pulled to a halt to allow a barouche to pass. It held the glacially correct Countess of Bormaine and Mrs. Frazier, a sharp-tongued termagent who had managed to insinuate herself into the highest echelons of the ton, probably by blackmail of some sort, Knight had always thought.
“Oh, do look, my lady,” he heard Mrs. Frazier’s shrill, penetrating voice call out. “I vow and declare it is his lordship with his darling family. Hello, Lord Castlerosse.”
Knight had no alternative but to pull up his horse, careful that the boys and Lily did the same. His arm tightened about Laura Beth and she grunted. “Shush, little one,” he whispered to her and unwittingly dropped a kiss on her head.
“How sweet,” said Mrs. Frazier. “And look—it is the charming widow. She is living with you, is she not, my lord? Without any sort of older woman in residence, I understand.”
“Mrs. Frazier, Lady Bormaine, may I present Mrs. Winthrop, my cousin’s widow, and her three children.”
The two ladies looked from him to Lily, avidly taking in her beauty, the richness of her ermine-lined cloak—doubtless a present from the viscount to his mistress—the quite expensive mare she was riding.
“This goes beyond the line of what is tolerable,” Mrs. Frazier said loudly behind a gloved hand.
“It’s a disgrace,” the countess said in an equally loud whisper. “His doxy togged out like a lady.”
The coachman, after a commiserating glance toward Knight, pulled the barouche away. Knight felt as though his jaw was locked together, he was so furious.
“You’re hurting me.”
“I’m sorry, Laura Beth,” he said and loosened his hold on the child.
“I think,” said Theo, looking at the departing barouche, “that they were being quite rude. What’s a doxy? I don’t understand, Cousin Knight.”
“Forget them, Theo. Stupid, vicious people, that’s what they are and they’re nothing to us.”
Knight turned to look at Lily. She was as pale as the white ermine lining her beautiful cloak. She was also furious; he could see the pulse beating in her throat, her hands fisted on the reins.
“I’m sorry,” he said simply.
“Ow,” cried Laura Beth.
“Be quiet, snippet. You said I was your special man. You must put up with my vagaries.”
“What’s varities?”
“My peculiarities, my limitless stupidity in this case. Now, let’s continue to Richmond.”
They did. Lily said not a word. Laura Beth bounced and giggled, and Knight had his hands full to keep the little girl atop the horse, himself as well.
Luckily, Knight told himself as they gained the main road to Richmond, Sam was so excited he hadn’t heard a word. Thank God. He could just imagine Sam threatening to poke his fives in each lady’s face.
Not that the two old bitches didn’t royally deserve it.
The day became warmer, the sun brilliant overhead. Knight saw Lily slip off her cloak and fold it over her saddle. He made haste to remove the outer layer of Laura Beth’s clothes. She wiggled and hooted with laughter at his clumsy efforts.
“Hush, Laura Beth, and help Cousin Knight.”
“It’s all right, Theo,” Knight said as he finally pulled the little girl’s arm from the sleeve. “I’m bigger, so logic dictates that I should prevail, eventually.”
“You don’t know Laura Beth,” Sam said, giving her a dark look. “She wiggles around more than a worm.”
Theo said in a priggish voice, “At least she doesn’t scare Betty to death with squirmy bread dough in the dark.”
Sam looked ready to say something completely out of line to his brother when Knight quickly raised his hand. “Quiet, all of you. Now, look at the scenery. To our left is the Thames. It’s muddy, but it’s English, therefore ours, and is to be appreciated. Sam, watch your pony.”
Lily tried to become unfrozen. She truly did. She watched Knight handle the children and knew it was an exhausting job. But he was doing it and with unexpected skill. She just couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Those two awful ladies had thought—no, truly believed, since they’d called her a doxy—that she was Knight’s mistress. His paramour, his whore. She shivered with anger. But why would they? For God’s sake, there were three children. Did the ladies believe the children to be Knight’s? Impossible; he was far too young. Hers? That was truly ludicrous.
It was beyond ludicrous. It was dreadful. She felt fury, not only for the insult to herself but even more for Knight. He hadn’t asked for it. He was so completely innocent of anything remotely objectionable that she wanted to scream curses to the heavens.
“Mama, what’s wrong?”
Lily finally managed a smile for Laura Beth. “Nothing, my love. Stop wriggling about or Knight will drop you. He might be your special man, but he said nothing about you being his special little girl. He just might roll you into the Thames.”
Laura Beth looked up at Knight, removed her thumb from her mouth, and asked, “Would you roll me into the Tims?”
“In an instant, if you disobey me.”
“Oh.” After that brief remark, Laura Beth put her thumb back into her mouth, hugged Czarina Catherine close to her chest, and looked with great interest toward the river.
They arrived at a lovely small park near the river thirty minutes later. The boys dashed away to skip rocks across the water, Laura Beth demanded bread for the loudly squawking ducks, and Lily said not a single word. Her movements were stiff, wooden, angry.
Soon the carriage arrived. She helped Charlie and Lucy, somewhat to their consternation, spread the beautiful white linen tablecloth on the fall grass.
“Go play with Laura Beth,” Knight said. “She needs to be watched.”
Lily obeyed instantly.
Knight stared after her, wondering what the devil he should say to her. He himself was still furious. God, he’d been a fool not to have taken the appropriate measures to protect her.
The luncheon itself was demolished; that was the way Knight thought of it as he stared down at the continuing and growing devastation. The boys ate as though it was either their last meal or their first in years. As for Laura Beth, she tasted everything, leaving bits and pieces piled on and around her plate. Lily scolded, threatened, cajoled. Finally, to everyone’s utter surprise, she jumped to her feet, placed her hands on her hips, and said in the shrillest voice he’d ever imagined from her, “All of you, stop it this instant! Do you hear me? STOP IT!”
Three sets of hands instantly stilled; three pairs of startled eyes flew to her face. She was pale, her hands shaking slightly.
Knight, who was frankly enjoying the children’s antics, much to his own surprise, added his own look at Lily. She was truly upset. He watched her splay her hands in front of her.
“Theo, Sam, I am ashamed of you. Knight is giving us a marvelous treat and you’re acting like—convict children. He surely must believe you have next to no breeding, certainly no manners. Please, just behave.” She looked as if she would say more, but didn’t. She turned on her heel and fled.
“Oh, goodness,” Lucy said.
“Mama!”
Knight said in his sternest voice, “You do somewhat resemble convict children, though I’ve never personally observed any. Mind your manners and stay here. I will see to your mother. Lucy, Charlie, watch them.”
Knight caught up to her very quickly, for her direction was erratic and soon completely halted by the riverbank.
He made no move to touch her. She was sobbing, her shoulders hunched, her ar
ms wrapped about herself. He hated her pain, brought on by those damnable harridans.
Finally he said quietly, “Lily.”
She hiccuped and he saw her straighten her shoulders, knew she was trying to pull herself together.
She said in a dismal voice, filled with self-loathing, “I yelled at the children and they were just having fun.”
“Well, yes. So what? I venture to guarantee that they will survive. You can’t always be Miss Perfection, Lily.”
“It’s Mrs.,” Lily said.
He smiled. “That’s much better. Here, take my handkerchief.” He handed it around so that she didn’t have to turn and face him as yet.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now, why don’t we take a short stroll and talk about this?”
“There’s nothing at all to say. You saw them, you heard them! I’m your doxy, your whore. It’s done and I’m responsible! I’m going to leave, I must. Now that you’re the children’s legal guardian, they’re safe. I’ll go in the morning and everyone will be nice to you again.”
“How old did you say you were?”
She turned to face him at that, her expression a study of confusion. “I am nearly twenty.”
“For one who has reached such an advanced age, you’re showing remarkable signs of stupidity.”
“I am not. Listen, Knight, the children are now safe. They don’t really need me, not really, and I can go away. Maybe soon you could send me Laura Beth.”
“I’ve always thought martyrs the biggest bores alive.”
“That’s why they normally get burned at the stake or some other awful thing. That’s why they’re martyrs.”
“A good point. You make me forget my logic. In any case, you’re being a bore, Lily. You will not leave the children. This nastiness you witnessed was unfortunate. It was entirely my fault, not at all yours. I knew what was happening. You hadn’t a clue. Now, this is what I propose—”
“I don’t want to hear you propose anything.” The ambiguity suddenly struck her, and her face flamed with color. She whirled about and ran away from him, sticking close to the riverbank.
Knight watched her for a moment, then strode after her. He hoped Sam wasn’t observing this sterling performance, else the little boy might be thinking that Knight was attacking his mother.
He called out, “Lily, you’re tiring me out and I’m not enjoying it. Stop running away from me. Stop, period.”
She did, beside a willow tree.
“That’s better.”
Lily looked at him, said, “I can’t stay here and watch your reputation be torn to shreds, all because of me and the children. Don’t you understand? I simply can’t allow it.”
“You can’t, huh? All right, then. Here’s what we’ll do. You, my dear, and the children will go to Castle Rosse. It’s my country seat in Dorset, not even a full day’s journey from London. After your interview with John Jones, everything will be set. All right?”
“No.”
Knight hadn’t ever had a woman gainsay his wishes, not since his mother had departed to more heavenly climes many years before. He merely stared at her, nonplussed. “What?”
“No, I won’t do it. You won’t sacrifice yourself.”
“Remarkable,” Knight said, more to himself than to her. “I hadn’t thought you so stubborn, Lily. I had indeed believed you to be quite malleable, yielding. I would have thought that since Tris married you when you were scarce even a young girl, he would have molded you into a more submissive creature.”
“Tris didn’t believe in molds,” Lily said, thrusting her chin up. That, she supposed, was the truth. He’d wanted her to marry him so badly that he’d never shown her any dominant sort of male traits. She’d always assumed all men wanted to rule whatever size kingdom they could manage to obtain, be it only a wife. Her father certainly had ruled with an iron fist, until they’d had to leave England. Odd how she’d become the power then. She hadn’t thought of it in those particular terms before now. “He wanted me to be happy, that’s all,” she added, aware that Knight was simply staring at her.
“And were you? Happy, that is?”
Lily couldn’t bring the glib answer out. She couldn’t even make herself nod. She just stood there, her fingers tearing at the bark on the willow tree, feeling stupid and helpless and altogether useless.
Knight sighed. “All right, Lily, that was impertinent of me. Come back to the picnic before Sam attacks me for assaulting his mother. We’ll speak of this later.”
“I shan’t change my mind, Knight.”
“You will do as I tell you.”
Lily just shrugged. Let him rave and rant and carry on. It didn’t matter. He would learn that she was just as stubborn as he. She wouldn’t let him ruin his reputation, his family name, lose all his friends, just because of her.
“I’m hungry,” she said and strode back toward the picnic.
“Good, that must mean you’re returning to a more equitable state of mind.”
It occurred to Lily sometime after midnight as she lay awake in her bed that perhaps she’d overreacted to the meeting with those two old ladies. Perhaps they were just two out of many. She would have to think about it.
The following morning, however, riding in Hyde Park with Sam and Theo and Laura Beth, she discovered that she hadn’t begun to learn the extent of the damage to the viscount’s reputation and good name.
Eight
Like the previous day, Sunday morning continued beautifully mild, the sun shining as if it had never known a moment of dark clouds. It was so unlike the end of October that one would be a fool to remain indoors. At least that was what the servants were saying, and Lily agreed with them.
She sent word to the stables that she and the children would ride. Knight, it appeared, had already gone out. She wondered if he’d gone riding. She wondered, too, where he had gone off to the previous evening. When they’d returned from Richmond, he’d bidden her a polite good-evening and left.
This morning she felt buoyant, more optimistic, ready to take on anyone and anything. She had indeed overreacted the previous day. She’d made everyone miserable just because two very rude ladies had had nothing more important to do than shred someone’s character.
She was humming as she dressed Laura Beth. She listened intently to Theo tell her about the wondrous properties of something called the omaya root. Even Sam’s carping at Theo for his bossiness drew nothing more than a mild reproof from her.
Sam, incensed, declared, “I’m six years old. I don’t need Theo to tell me to fold my shirts. Why, Papa would have told him to go prose to an ant, Mama.”
That, Lily thought, was probably the truth. Tris had had the gift to tease Theo out of his overadultness. However, Sam’s shirts did look a mess. She just shrugged, such was her excellent mood.
She gave both Sam and Theo firm instructions when they reached the gate to the park. “You will remain with me or else we will return home immediately. Do you promise?”
They promised, but Lily knew Sam forgot things like promises very quickly.
There were few riders in Hyde Park this morning and they were all gentlemen. They touched the tips of their hats as they passed. One man drew his horse to a halt, stared at Lily for the longest time, then sighed dramatically, his hand over his heart.
“Bloody ass.”
“Sam, where did you hear that?”
To her surprise, Theo filled the uncomfortable silence. “Well, Mama, he’s right, and it’s not his fault. Cousin Knight’s stable lads all talk like that. But the point, Mama, is that the man was stupid.” Theo paused, his head cocked to one side, the way Tris used to do. “But you’re the problem, Mama.”
“I?”
“Yes,” said Sam, looking at her critically. “You’re too pretty. Men can’t help but stare at you and act like ass—fools.”
“Bloody ass,” Laura Beth said clearly.
Lily simply stared at them, then laughed. “You are the greatest pa
ir—what a corker. Laura Beth, don’t repeat that again. It isn’t nice. Enough now; let’s canter a bit.”
They were enjoying themselves immensely until Lily turned to see a lively chestnut mare draw up beside her. Atop the mare sat a young lady, quite beautiful, with the exotic dark coloring that made Lily think she was either French or Italian. Just behind her rode a gentleman on a startling pure white gelding. His expression was bland, his manner seemingly detached. He was older, perhaps forty, handsome, she supposed, were it not for the coldness of his eyes, a winter gray. She recognized the signs of dissipation; she’d lived with them long enough with her own father. He was dressed entirely in white. He didn’t smile, he simply looked from the lady he was with to Lily and waited silently.
“You are Mrs. Winthrop, are you not?” the young woman asked, neither smiling nor frowning at Lily.
“Yes, I am. These are my children,” Lily added, sweeping her hand to include Theo and Sam.
To Lily’s surprise, the lady didn’t introduce herself. Nor did the gentleman. Her dark eyes narrowed, and Lily braced herself. For what, she wasn’t certain, but it wasn’t long in coming, and it was awful. The lady said very calmly, “You are Knight Winthrop’s whore, and I for one am appalled that you would remain here—in his very house, with your farrow of little bastards—whilst he is ostracized. Talk grows, and soon every moral gentleman and lady of London will cut him dead. You are despicable, madam. Take your brood and leave London.”
Lily saw red. “How dare you. None of that is true, none of it.”
“I will not stand by and watch you destroy a man everyone admires. You miserable harlot.” The lady sent a contemptuous glance that encompassed all the children, dug her heels into her mare’s flanks, and was off. Belatedly, Lily saw that the gentleman had not as yet galloped after her. He studied Lily’s furious flushed face and said after a long moment, “Should you like to leave Lord Castlerosse, my dear, I would be delighted to take you in. I’m a generous man and I’ll see to it that your bastards are well fed, if you please me.”
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