Much Ado about a Widow (The Widows' Club Book 4)

by Jenna Jaxon

  Despite Rob’s brave words, she simply could not foresee any outcome of the approaching meeting in which she and Rob would be allowed to be together. It was one thing to order about an officer who worked for her father. It was quite another to defy her father to his face without expecting retribution of the ghastliest sort. At worst she’d be locked up in the lunatic asylum; at best forced to marry Travers. Bleaker outcomes she could not imagine.

  The Justine had stilled almost to a halt when Cartwright dropped the anchor and the crew readied the boat to take them to shore. Georgie gripped Rob’s hand as he helped her in, dread filling her heart.

  “Do not worry, sweetheart.” Rob ran his thumb over the back of her hand. “I will make certain you marry no one but me.”

  Gazing up at him, she tried to speak words of comfort, but they choked her throat. So she smiled and laced their fingers together.

  The crew lowered them over the side.

  Time to face her fate.

  When they reached the narrow dock, Rob helped her out and together they turned toward the shore, where a sea of faces awaited them. Georgie gasped and stopped. Had everyone come to witness the final battle of wills?

  “Come, my love. Let’s put our best foot forward.” Rob started her moving again.

  “I would if I thought it would do any good.” The stern set of her father’s face was familiar at least. Several of his liveried servants stood behind him, an impassive wall. Jemmy and Elizabeth stood to the side of Father, looking glum. To his left Lord Travers had made an appearance, apparently recovered from Georgie’s brutal tactics. He’d apparently brought some of his men as well, a puny show of his strength next to her father’s. She narrowed her eyes and glared at him. If Father forced this marriage, she vowed she’d make sure she wasn’t the only one sorry about it. Even Lady St. Just was present, and interestingly one of the friendlier faces in the group. Georgie would have loved being her daughter-in-law.

  “Georgie.” Elizabeth rushed past Georgie’s father, and Georgie flew into her arms. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, for the moment at least.” She hugged her friend fiercely. “But not for much longer, I’m afraid.”

  Boney fingers clamped onto her wrist as her father hauled her out of Elizabeth’s arms.

  “You will not get away from me again, Georgina.” Father released her, his mouth pursed as if touching her were the most distasteful thing he’d done in an age. “At least not before I dispose of you as I promised. Travers.”

  Limping slightly, Lord Travers shuffled over to them, his bloodshot eyes taking her in from top to bottom. “My lady, are you quite all right after your ordeal?”

  “Thank you for your concern, my lord.” Georgie stared him down. “But of what ordeal do you speak? The only thing to distress me recently was your unwanted attempt to ravish me, from which I have thankfully recovered, although”—she eyed the area of his fall very obviously—“I see you have not. If you continue to limp, I would suggest you consult one of the doctors in Harley Street. Perhaps they can put you to rights.”

  “Georgina!” Her father spun her around and slapped her across the mouth. “I will not tolerate insolence nor rudeness to your prospective husband.”

  Before she could raise her hand to her smarting cheek, Rob had appeared in front of her, pushing her behind him. Towering over her father, fists clenched, lips in a snarl, he looked like an avenging angel—and every inch her hero. “Lady Georgina has expressed neither insolence nor rudeness to me, my lord, and as I am her prospective husband—”

  A roar of outrage erupted from Lord Travers, who hobbled toward Rob with an uneven gait. “You are not her prospective anything, St. Just. I have her father’s oath and a promise, written in her own hand, swearing to marry me.”

  “And as that promise was elicited from her by coercion”—Rob swung his blistering gaze from her father to Travers—“and she has recently revoked her consent, it is no more valid than your claim to her hand. So, my lords, you will refrain from touching her again, either of you, in any capacity. I am not a man who suffers fools with any particular patience. And you are fools indeed if you believe I will allow any man, other than me, to lay hands on her.”

  “This is outrageous!” Her father’s face had turned a ghastly shade of red. “My lady.” He turned to Lady St. Just, standing serenely by, missing not a word. “Take your whelp in hand and instruct him that he has absolutely no authority over my daughter, nor shall he ever have. Perhaps he’ll listen to his parent as he will not to his betters.”

  “I suspect, Blackham, that if he had been given instruction by his betters he would have heeded it. I have raised him to be respectful of those worthy of respect.” Fixing her father with a steely eye, the marchioness stared at him unblinking until amazingly, he dropped his gaze. Without missing a beat, she turned to her son. “St. Just, you have laid claim to Lady Georgina’s hand, even though it has already been given to another. Do you perhaps have a claim on her that her father has not yet discovered?”

  Frowning, Georgie glanced at Rob. What was his mother talking about? He had no formal right to marry her, save that he loved her and she loved him. Unfortunately, a strong claim on her heart would hold less than no weight with her father. To her surprise, however, after a confused moment, Rob grinned broadly. What had she missed?

  “I do have such a claim, Mother. No one knows of it yet, save Lady Georgina and I.”

  Everyone’s gaze was now firmly fixed on Rob.

  “What nonsense is this?” Blustering much more than usual, Father looked from Rob to his mother, and seemed to hesitate. “He has no right, no claim to my daughter whatsoever.”

  “Indeed I do have the better claim than Lord Travers, not only by having secured the lady’s regard, but by virtue of circumstances that have recently arisen.” He shifted his gaze to Georgie, mouthed “I love you” to her, and plowed firmly on. “I declare that I know for a fact that Lady Georgina is, at this moment, carrying my child.”

  Oh, dear Lord. Hanging her head to hide not only her hot cheeks but the murder certainly in her eyes, Georgie tried to ignore the gasps from all assembled and then the silence. Cautiously, she raised her head to find everyone’s attention now on her.

  “No! This cannot be true.” Travers barged in between Rob and Father, his eyes almost starting from their sockets. “I was the first one in her bed. If she is with child, it is mine.”

  Outrage pouring through her, Georgie pushed past Rob and stalked up to Travers, who skidded to a stop. “You, my lord, are a liar.”

  Travers’s mouth dropped open, though no sound of protest came out.

  “You may have found your way into my bed by nefarious means, but merely lying in one does not cause a woman to have a child. And I can swear before God, you did not touch me in such a way that a child could be conceived. In fact”—she leaned toward him, and he swayed back—“I may have made sure that you can never produce a child.” She held her hand up before his eyes and clenched her fist.

  The earl shuddered and shuffled back.

  “If that is the case, I am sorry.” She didn’t want to have been the cause of his line’s dying out, certainly. But neither had she wanted him in her bed. “I did not mean to affect you thusly. But I did wish to save my virtue, and that was the only way for me to do so.” Nodding her head, she found herself staring into the furious face of her father.

  “You freely admit to this wanton behavior?” Father stared at her, disbelief plain on his face.

  “I . . .” To admit this in public would be shameful beyond belief. But if it was the only way for her and Rob to be together, then so be it. “Yes, yes it is true.”

  “I demand satisfaction.” Barreling back up the dock, Lord Travers drew himself up to face Rob. Georgie believed he would punch her beloved in the face, but instead he ripped off one of his Yorkshire-tan gloves and threw it at Rob’s feet. “Meet me now, sir, or else be known forever after as coward.”

  Leaning down to pick
up the offending glove, Rob chuckled.

  Why on earth would he laugh about such a serious challenge?

  He snagged the scrap of leather and straightened. “It will be my pleasure, Travers, to put a ball through your black heart.”

  “Travers.” Her father’s frown said he did not approve of this turn of events. “Don’t be a fool. He’s trying to draw you out so he can kill you and marry my daughter.”

  “How can I not answer that slap, my lord?” Travers was stumping toward the end of the dock, moving toward the beach where several more men were milling around. “I’ve been waiting to bed Lady Georgina for nigh on five years. And St. Just has just told the world he’s cuckolded me before I am even her husband. Cole.” He called, and one of the men on the beach trotted toward him. “Bring me my set of dueling pistols.”

  The man nodded and headed toward one of the carriages sitting on the crushed shell road that led up to the castle.

  “You carry dueling pistols with you all the time, Travers?” Rob had taken Georgie’s arm as they and the rest of the company moved toward shore as well. “That speaks to your sense of preparedness at least. I suppose a man of your reputation never knows when he may be accosted by an irate husband.”

  “Rather disconcerting to have the shoe upon the other foot now, is it not, Lord Travers?” Georgie spoke as sweetly as she could manage while biting back her fear. Under her voice she whispered to Rob, “You’re not really going to duel with him, are you?”

  The wretch laughed aloud and patted her arm. “Of course I’m going to duel with him. This is my God-given chance to get Travers out of our lives for good. You cannot marry a dead man.”

  “I know. So make certain he is the dead man and not you. Have you dueled before?”

  “No, but I’m a good shot.” He raised her hand for a kiss. “And I’ve got excellent motivation to succeed. Our future together.”

  They reached the hard-packed sand of the beach, still waiting for Travers’s man to bring the weapons.

  “Will you fight here?” She cast a doubtful look around. The beach was very rocky, not the best place if one needed sure footing.

  “I’ll suggest the front lawn instead.” His cheerful confidence did not reassure her overmuch. This was a dangerous gamble, with stakes incredibly high for them. “The good thing about living so far removed in the country is that one does not have to go about trying to hide such things.”

  “Georgie, you must stop this.” Elizabeth reached them as Travers’s servant returned, a thin wooden box in his hands.

  “I do not think I can, my dear.” Her friend’s worried countenance fed her own fears. “Rob assures me that—Oh, oh! There, that’s him.” She tugged on Rob’s sleeve, Elizabeth completely forgotten. “That’s Odd Fellow!” She pointed at Travers’s servant as he handed his master the box of pistols. “Kidnapper! Kidnapper!”

  Again all eyes turned to Georgie, but she paid them no mind. She ran forward to Travers’s side, sticking an accusing finger in Odd Fellow’s face. “You didn’t think to see me again, did you, ruffian? Rob, Father, this is the man who abducted me, Clara, and Lulu. I know him well because of his very odd features. That’s why I called him Odd Fellow to myself and Clara.”

  “What are you talking about now, Georgina?” Her father turned from speaking with Jemmy, frowning once again. “You are certainly proving more trouble than you are worth. How can you accuse Lord Travers’s servant of abducting you? Why would he do such a thing?”

  Grasping the pistol case, Travers jerked his head toward them, then back to the servant. “Go. Now,” he hissed at him.

  “Hold!” Rob shouted, striding forward. “Stay right where you are, sir.”

  The man stopped, his gaze shifting uncertainly between his master and Rob.

  “I have no idea, Father,” Georgie continued, “but I know that is him. All you need do is let Clara see him, and she will tell you as well.”

  “As can I, Lord Blackham.” Eyes narrowed, Rob joined them. “That”—he pointed at the man, now trying to shield his face—“is one of the men who was guarding your carriage and Lady Georgina’s trunks. I sent him off chasing after a boy to lure him away from the carriage, then my men and I secured her property and took it back to my ship.”

  “Travers!” Father bellowed so loudly the seagulls shrieked and fled the beach. “What is the meaning of this? Why are my daughter and St. Just claiming that your servant is the one who abducted Georgina in the first place?”

  The earl shuffled over to them, his mouth smiling widely while his eyes shifted like a mouse in a trap. “My lord, I can explain.”

  “Good. Do so.” Her father glared at the man until he squirmed.

  “I was afraid, my lord . . . That is, I had heard rumors, you see, that your son did not look favorably on my match with Lady Georgina. And I remembered last time, when she ran off with Kirkpatrick, and slipped through my grasp at the very last moment.” The conciliatory persona changed, Travers’s voice becoming more peevish. “I couldn’t let that happen again. I’d had to live it down the last time, that she jilted me for a vicar’s son.” He glared at Georgie, and she shrank back to grasp Rob’s arm. “I wasn’t about to do that a second time.”

  “I gave you no reason to suppose I would do anything of the kind this time.” Indignant, Georgie glowered back at Travers.

  “And yet there you stand on the arm of another man, once more, my lady.”

  Well, the man had a point, although, if he’d not interfered with her journey, none of them would be standing here right now. For the first time, she wanted to thank Lord Travers for something.

  “So what had you planned to do to secure Lady Georgina’s affections, Travers?” Beneath her fingers Rob’s body went taut.

  “We were to spend time together, to let her get to know me. The woman wouldn’t even agree to speak to me before then.” The petulant tone of his voice did him no credit, but Georgie couldn’t help feeling a modicum of pity for the man. She had treated him rather badly, if you looked at everything that had occurred between them over the last five years.

  “In an inn down by the docks in Portsmouth?” Rob’s voice cut through her thoughts like a newly sharpened knife. “Without a chaperone, save her maid?”

  “You had no more chaperone when you took her off,” Travers shot back.

  “But I didn’t intend to ravish her against her will, as you so aptly demonstrated you did the other night.”

  “Enough!” Father put an end to the argument by pulling Travers to the side. “You kidnapped my daughter because you doubted I would keep my word?”

  Travers’s mouth worked although nothing came out.

  “Fool. You could have had her, her dowry, and in six years her mother’s inheritance as well. I am known as a man who keeps his word, no matter what. You should have listened to those rumors before any other.” Father glared at Travers, the tendons on his neck popping out like taut lines on a ship. “Not to mention the expense you have made me incur, due simply to your lack of faith in me. I had to pay for travel and lodging for my servants from Somerset to come rescue Georgina. And when I decided I must come to Cornwall to see to this debacle myself, I incurred another expense with my ship. Instead of shipping goods, it’s been transporting me to this out of the way place.” Father paced forward until he stood toe to toe with the earl. “Inconvenience me at your peril, Travers. I am not a man to take a slight lightly, especially one that costs me time and money.”

  “But my lord—”

  Father raised his hand to Travers, effectively silencing him. “Let me assure you, I will refuse to ally myself with a man who has the poor judgment to mistrust my word. Even though the alternative”—he shifted his glare to Rob—“has little more to recommend his suit.”

  “I think you have misspoken yet again, Blackham.” Lady St. Just’s gaze beat down on Father until Georgie could swear her parent shrank backward. “My son has everything to recommend him. An old and prestigious title, wealth beyo
nd Lord Travers’s dreams, and the regard and affection of your daughter. I think all three of these things should be taken into consideration when bestowing your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

  To her great surprise, Father gave Lady St. Just a thoughtful glance, then turned away from Travers to scrutinize Rob. “I take it you still wish to wed my daughter?”

  “What are you saying, Lord Blackham?” Grasping her father’s arm, the earl tried to turn him back toward him. “We have an accord, a signed agreement.”

  With a casual flip of his hand Father dismissed the man who had been his favored suitor for all these years. “Well, St. Just?”

  Startled, Rob shot Georgie a glance and an impish grin. “Yes, my lord.”

  “You cannot renege on this marriage contract.” The desperation in Travers’s face and voice were making him reckless. “You promised me her dowry, and I have to have it, Blackham. My last investment sank to the bottom of the Channel a week ago, so I’m on the rocks, my lord. You gave me your word, so I was counting on Lady Georgina’s dowry to see me through this lean time, don’t you see?”

  With an absolutely straight face, Father replied, “Then I believe you have miscounted, Travers. I agreed to align myself with you because five years ago your wealth was sound, your properties prosperous. I fear I neglected to reinvestigate your financial standing when you renewed your suit. Apparently, I too have been the victim of rumors, ones that said you were still one of the wealthiest men in England. We might have saved ourselves a deal of trouble had I not done so.”

  The color had drained from Travers’s face, and he remained speechless.

  Father stopped, and put his hand on Rob’s sleeve. “You are certain she’s breeding already?”

  A tinge of red invaded Rob’s cheeks. “To the best of my ability, I believe so, my lord.”

  After a long stare that took in Georgie, Rob, and Rob’s mother, Father nodded. “Very well. Be certain you do not disappoint me as others have done.” Issuing a spectacular glower at Travers, Father sniffed and turned to Lady St. Just, to whom he bowed and offered his arm. “Would you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you, my lady?”