A Lord for the Wallflower Widow

by Ann Lethbridge

  She could hardly be any plainer.

  ‘You approached him?’

  Dash it, why was he focusing on that part of her apology? ‘I am a widow, Westram. I assume that has not escaped your attention? He came to my shop with another lady and I found myself charmed.’ She launched into the other thing she had hoped she would not have to say, but now felt obliged to offer. ‘If you are concerned about my lack of decorum somehow tainting the reputation of your sisters, I will leave Kent immediately and break off all contact with them.’

  Westram stared at her. ‘I must say I am surprised at you,’ he said his voice gruff. ‘I thought you were the most sensible of the three of you.’

  At the sight of the pain in his expression, she felt bitterly ashamed that she had let him down.

  He reached out and patted her hand. ‘I wish you had talked to me first. That sort of fellow, well, charm, it’s his stock in trade,’ he said heavily. ‘But then I should have realised you weren’t as up to snuff as you seem.’

  She wasn’t sure if he was insulting her or being kind, he spoke so gently. Why would he be kind? ‘No doubt you think because I am of common stock, I do not know how to go on.’ She ungritted her teeth and forced a smile. ‘As I understand it, as a widow I am permitted some licence to pursue my own interests.’

  He stiffened. ‘I believe I made myself clear that you were all to look for husbands,’ he snapped. ‘Lord Avery is a well-known philanderer. You cannot believe how many people couldn’t wait to tell me my widowed sister-in-law had taken up with the ton’s most idle rake. And if you think I am happy about the idea of having to hand over blunt in settlements to that fellow who will likely just gamble it all away in a single sitting just as my—’ He ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes briefly.

  ‘As your brother did,’ she finished his sentence. ‘Which is why I will not marry him, despite his kind offer.’

  Westram sagged back in his chair. ‘This is all my fault. I should have insisted you all came with me to live at Castings.’

  Worry and sorrow filled his normally austere expression.

  ‘You have had the care of your family for a very long time, Westram. You did your best to protect your sisters and now me. I honestly regret causing you this worry. To be honest, I made a mistake in marrying your brother. I had no idea he was wedding me in order to pay off his gambling debts, leaving nothing for my future should he die. I should have been told beforehand.’

  He opened his mouth to speak.

  She put up a hand. ‘The past is the past. It need never be spoken of again, but I hope you will not insist I marry another ne’er-do-well.’ Inwardly she winced, for she did not really think Avery anywhere near as bad as Greystoke, but it seemed strategic to use Westram’s overdeveloped sense of responsibility against him in this particular instance.

  ‘Devil take it, Carrie,’ he said on a sigh. ‘All right. If you are really opposed to the match, then I will get rid of the fellow. I’ll pay him off.’

  ‘No need,’ she said, feeling very sad inside, hollow and achy. ‘I have been to see him. He will not call.’

  ‘You went to see him?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Alone at his lodgings? Are you mad?’

  ‘No one saw me.’

  ‘Someone will have seen you,’ he said heavily. He straightened his shoulders. ‘Well, I’ll just have to do my best to scotch any rumours that arise.’

  ‘Why not return to Gloucestershire as if nothing had happened. I shall not be seeing Lord Avery again and everything will die down soon enough.’ The same way the drama over the deaths of Westram’s brother and brothers-in-law had died down. ‘By next Season it will all have been forgotten.’

  Westram gave her a sharp look. ‘You are a very intelligent woman, Carrie. It is a pity you were not as perceptive when it came to being charmed by a blackguard like Lord Avery.’ He waved a hand. ‘Never mind. I agree with your suggestion. But this shop thing must stop.’

  She pressed her lips together, trying to marshal her arguments. ‘I do not—’

  ‘If you want me to forget about this affair with Lord Avery, then this is my price.’

  Damn him, he was not at all a stupid man. She and his sisters would have to find another way to earn an income. That was if the other two would even welcome her back into their fold. She inclined her head. ‘As you wish.’

  He nodded sharply. ‘It is what I wish. I will send round a note to Thrumby, asking him to send me his outstanding bills.’

  She drew herself up straight. ‘You need not do so. Mr Thrumby’s bill is paid in full.’

  His jaw dropped. ‘You mean you actually made enough to pay your rent?’

  ‘We made a healthy profit. Which is why you should let us continue with the endeavour.’

  He shook his head. ‘I cannot have it said that my sisters have gone into trade.’

  Heat scalded her face.

  He had the grace to look chagrined. ‘I apologise. There is nothing wrong with being in trade, per se. It is simply that if my sisters are to marry again, they will need to see that their reputations are spotless. It is the way of the world, Carrie. There is nothing I can do about it.’

  He was a good brother and he cared about his sisters. She could not fault him for that, much as she resented his high-handed interference. But then that was really her fault, wasn’t it? If she had stuck to selling bonnets, instead of getting involved with Lord Avery, they would not be having this conversation.

  But without Lord Avery, their little enterprise would not have been nearly so successful.

  Oh, dear. What a pickle it all was to be sure. But there was clearly no gainsaying Westram on the matter. He was determined to have his way and she had given him all the ammunition he needed to shoot down their plans. ‘I will need one day to close up the shop and dispose of the stock.’

  His sisters were going to be so disappointed. The thought made her heart sink even further.

  Westram nodded. ‘I’ll send my carriage around first thing in the morning.’

  * * *

  ‘Westram has no right to interfere in our business,’ Petra said, pacing to the drawing-room window and back. ‘We should simply ignore him and continue on as planned.’

  Carrie, who had arrived the previous evening to deliver her news, could not remember seeing her sister-in-law so agitated. ‘We cannot. Mr Thrumby will not allow us to keep the shop without Westram’s approval. I do not think your brother will change his mind, do you?’

  ‘He tends to be one of the more stubborn sort,’ Marguerite said. ‘My concern is all the women we employed to help us. We will have to find a way to pay them.’

  At least she had a bit of good news on that front. ‘This past week was surprisingly successful. We had almost no hats left and the nightgowns were exceedingly profitable as the ladies paid top prices for the few that were left. There is definitely enough to pay for their work. There will be little left over for us, though.’

  Not enough for them to show Westram they could manage for themselves and did not need his support.

  ‘And what are we to do with all the bonnets and nightgowns they made in the meantime? There has to be something we can do.’

  ‘I suppose we can give them to charity,’ Marguerite said. ‘I must say I did not expect Westram to take a pet over an affair with a gentleman.’ She turned her gaze on Carrie. ‘Surely you were not terribly indiscreet?’

  Carrie shrank inside. ‘We were not exactly circumspect. The idea was to bring customers to the shop.’

  ‘While I can quite understand why the son of a duke would be interested in you, Carrie, I don’t understand why he would involve himself in helping our business.’

  Startled, Carrie stared at her. ‘I believe you have it the wrong way around. His interest was primarily in our commerce. It is how he earns his living.�
� That and gambling. ‘He is cast out by his father.’

  ‘Then he must have done something dreadful,’ Marguerite said. ‘And you are better off not associating with him.’

  So Carrie had told herself repeatedly. Telling herself and believing it were two very different things, though.

  Petra’s face grew thoughtful. ‘He is need of funds, then?’

  ‘He is. He has arrangements with several shops in town. If the ladies he brings to them buy their wares, he receives a commission.’

  ‘Ladies?’ Marguerite said sharply.

  Carrie ignored the stab of pain in her heart and the realisation dawning on her sister-in-law’s face. The look of pity.

  Petra came back to the sofa and perched beside Carrie, looking at her intently. ‘I have an idea.’

  ‘Someone needs to have an idea,’ Marguerite said on a sigh.

  ‘You said he offered for you,’ Petra went on. ‘Marry him. Then Westram can have nothing to say about the shop.’

  Carrie gasped. Her heart stilled. Her stomach fell away. Longing filled her. She shoved it away. ‘Marry him? Certainly not.’ She hoped she sounded convincing, because the fluttering in her stomach was internally giving her the lie.

  Petra made a dismissive gesture. ‘You must like the fellow. And it will simply be a business arrangement. We will have to include him in the partnership, of course. But we cannot let our business go, when it is just beginning to be successful.’

  ‘No!’ Carrie exclaimed. ‘We agreed we all wanted our independence from husbands. That we would stick together in this matter.’

  Marguerite nodded, giving her sister a frown.

  ‘Besides,’ Carrie continued, ‘while Lord Avery is everything that is charming, he has an unsteadiness of character that I cannot like. And,’ she added for good measure, ‘I would never marry again out of convenience.’

  ‘Oh, pooh!’ Petra said indelicately. ‘You cannot mean to say you expect to find true love a second time? If indeed you found it the first time.’

  The hurt in her voice was hard to hear. But it was more than that, a sort of disillusionment.

  ‘Enough, Petra,’ Marguerite said, clearly noticing nothing amiss, which made Carrie think perhaps she was imagining something that wasn’t there.

  ‘We agreed when we set up house that none of us wished to marry again,’ Marguerite said. ‘Marriage is nothing but a disappointment. This independence of ours was supposed to relieve us of the necessity of relying on men.’

  While Marguerite never spoke of her husband, she was certainly the one who had been the most vocal of the three of them about never wanting to marry again. Setting up house here in the country had been her idea. Carrie had really let her down. ‘I am so sorry.’

  ‘It is not your fault,’ Marguerite said.

  ‘No,’ Petra said, her blue eyes flashing. ‘It is Westram’s and we are left still relying on his support.’

  ‘That is different,’ Marguerite snapped.

  ‘I don’t see how?’ Petra said. ‘And if Carrie was married, then she could act as our chaperon and we would never have to be answerable to Westram for anything again.’

  Unfortunately, Petra was right. But she was not the one being asked to marry a man who had been forced up to the mark.

  ‘I am sorry,’ Carrie said. ‘Truly I am. But I cannot marry Lord Avery. Not after—’ Her voice broke.

  Petra drew in a breath, her eyes wide, and full of sympathy. ‘Oh, I am sorry, too, Carrie. I did not mean to hurt you. I know you loved Jonathan, but I thought if you had taken a lover, you were ready to move on. I did not mean to be unfeeling. And besides, you are right, we did agree we would stick together no matter what. Please, forget I so much as mentioned it.’

  Argh. Now she felt like a complete fraud. She should have scotched their romantic notions at the very beginning, but she had felt like such a fool when they had both appeared so happy in their marriages.

  ‘It was a fling, nothing more.’ The words hurt dreadfully. ‘Neither of us wishes to marry and I won’t have him forced into it.’

  Petra sagged back against the chair cushions. ‘Since Westram won’t entertain our names being associated with at shop, mayhap we can find someone to run the shop while we are silent partners. Westram never said anything about not making hats, did he? His objection is purely about trade, I believe. What about the young woman you hired to help you, Carrie? Do you think she could manage it alone?’

  Carrie winced. Tansy had been devastated to learn she had lost her position. Carrie had convinced Mrs Thrumby to take her on as a chambermaid.

  Marguerite put up a hand and shook her head. ‘No. We are not going behind Westram’s back again. We have to find something less objectionable.’

  Carrie felt her shoulders stiffen.

  Marguerite looked conscience-stricken. She put her arm around Carrie’s shoulder. ‘Oh, my dear, I did not mean that the way it sounded. It is not me who finds trade objectionable. It is Westram and he is being an ass. But he is doing his best according to his lights, that is all. And sneaking around behind his back again will be just the ammunition he needs to insist we return to living under his roof.’

  ‘Oh, Lord,’ Petra said. ‘I never thought of that. It is the last thing we want.’

  Carrie hugged Marguerite back. ‘I just wish I had more to offer. My portion is so small it hardly helps at all.’

  ‘Having you here with us is enough,’ the older girl said. ‘Never fear, we will think of some way out of this conundrum.’

  An idea occurred to Carrie. ‘Perhaps Lord Avery would buy the business. We could put him in touch with the ladies who have been making the hats and the nightgowns. They would be glad to work for him, I am sure. And we would be solvent for a time.’

  ‘Oh, bravo,’ Marguerite said. ‘If that were possible, it would give us some breathing room to find another way to support ourselves.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  Carrie tossed the third sheet of paper into the fire in the drawing room. Her sisters had gone about their own chores and left her to it. The note to Thrumby had been easy. She hadn’t given him any details—she couldn’t until she had Avery’s answer—but simply requested that he not rent out the shop to anyone else until she’d had a chance to sell the business to someone who would need the premises.

  After almost a week, he had replied in the affirmative.

  The letter she now had to write to Avery was proving much harder. She’d been pretty scathing in their last meeting. And while she didn’t mind humbling her pride for the sake of her sisters-in-law, she was worried that she’d be tempted to throw herself at his feet and beg him to make his proposal again—if he would still have her. And that would never do, despite that her stupid heart kept telling her she was making a terrible mistake by letting him go. Her head was very sure she was doing the right thing.

  Trusting your head will ensure your safety, I confess.

  Trusting your heart is taking a chance when.

  Only one path leads to true happiness.

  Doing the right thing should not make one feel so miserable. Should it?

  Besides, though she had agreed to write this letter, Avery had made it quite clear he intended to continue with his travels and his gambling at some time in the future. He had never intended anything more than a short-lived affair and nor had she. The more she had thought about it, the more she kept thinking she had got her sisters-in-law’s hopes up for nothing.

  She swallowed the lump in her throat.

  The door opened and the maidservant gave her a beaming smile. ‘Lord Avery to see you, mum,’ she announced and gestured him in.

  The breath caught in Carrie’s throat. It couldn’t be. But it was.

  Somehow, she had forgotten how handsome he was. All she could do was stare at him as if he was a vision.

  He bo
wed. ‘Mrs Greystoke. How glad I am to have found you in.’

  Where else would she be? And what on earth was he doing here? She glanced down at her letter. Writing to him was one thing. Greeting him in person was another altogether. Her tongue felt awkward. Her mouth dry. She gestured to a chair. ‘Won’t you sit down?’ The words were little more than a breathless whisper.

  ‘Thank you.’ He took a straight back chair near the hearth. She sat on the sofa a little distance away.

  Marguerite bustled in, followed by Petra. ‘Lord Avery, how delightful of you to call.’

  A shadow passed across his face, but he rose to his feet and gave the two ladies an easy smile.

  Carrie made the introductions. Petra joined Carrie on the sofa, while Marguerite sat close to Avery. Too close. ‘I believe Lord Avery came to have private words with me,’ Carrie said pointedly.

  Marguerite cocked an eyebrow. ‘Indeed. That is hardly proper.’

  What sort of game was she playing? Had her sister-in-law changed her mind about asking him to take over the shop for them? Carrie felt all at sea. Indeed, she felt rather unwell. Thinking about Avery was bad enough, but seeing him here in the flesh was almost more than she could bear.

  ‘Did you have a good drive down from town?’ Petra asked.

  He inclined his head. ‘I rode. It was very pleasant.’

  ‘You are lucky it did not rain,’ Marguerite said. ‘The weather has been exceedingly inclement recently.’

  ‘I was indeed fortunate,’ he said, smiling. ‘It seems my luck is holding.’

  Luck. What was he saying? Fortune smiled on the brave? Hardly. Who could have been braver than her husband and his two companions if reports of the battle were to be believed? And look what had happened to them. Believing in luck was no way to live. So why had he come?

  ‘I hope the stables were able to accommodate your horse?’ Marguerite went on. ‘We rarely have visitors.’

  ‘They were most accommodating. Thank you.’ His smile was so charming both of her sisters beamed back at him. Of course they would. All the ladies fell at his feet. She wanted to bash them both over the head. She wanted to flee.