“Well, it is carte blanche of a sort, Valentine,” Mr. Schillig said, “of your very generous fortune, and mine as well.”
Leah found her gaze divided between them again as she tried to decipher that statement. She was having a hard time deciding whether to be angry or merely confused.
“Would you give me the courtesy, Kurt, of letting me negotiate my own marriage contract?” Mr. Westridge said tightly.
Leah’s reply was arrested by that one word—marriage. She took two small steps back into the room. “You had best explain yourselves better than this. I will grant you but a few more minutes to make your business plain, or I will be forced to ask you to leave.”
Mr. Westridge took a step closer, and Leah could see the determination on his face. “We are here to offer you marriage, Mrs. Marleston.”
Leah was dumfounded. “Both of you? You are here to court me?”
“No, we are here to ask you to marry us,” Mr. Westridge said earnestly.
Leah could not control the incredulity of her expression. “Did Mr. Matthews put you up to this? Is one of you to be the sacrificial lamb? I told him I would not marry him just to solve my financial difficulties. The same applies to any of his friends.”
“Not one of us, Mrs. Marleston,” Mr. Schillig said smoothly, “both of us.”
“No, not both of us,” Mr. Westridge seemed to be stammering. “I mean yes, both of us, but you will be my wife. And not lambs. Not sacrificial lambs. You see, we want to marry you. We need to marry you.”
Leah’s mind was reeling. “You both need to marry me? That’s impossible. What on earth do you mean?”
Mr. Westridge sighed in frustration as he ran a hand through his dark hair, leaving unruly curls behind. “This is not going according to my plan at all.”
Chapter Three
Just then Mrs. Marleston’s mother and children came through the door.
“Oh I’m sorry!” Mrs. Northcott cried. “I didn’t realize you were still with your guests, Leah.”
Leah. Her name was Leah, Valentine thought. It was lovely and suited the woman perfectly. He looked down at the children and suddenly realized if all went as he hoped they would be his children. The boy looked to be about nine or ten, a sturdy lad with a shock of red hair and blue eyes as suspicious as his mother’s. The little girl couldn’t be above five, with golden curls and blue eyes that nearly filled her face. He fell in love on the spot.
“Hello,” Valentine said, bending his knees so he could look them in the eye. “I’m Mr. Westridge.”
“Good afternoon, sir,” the boy said stiffly. The little girl moved behind her brother and stuck her thumb in her mouth as she peeked out around his legs.
Valentine suppressed a smile. “And what are your names?”
The boy looked up at Leah, and she nodded. “I am Sebastian, and my sister is Esme.” Then he looked pointedly at Kurt.
Kurt laughed, and Valentine watched everyone relax. Kurt’s laugh often had that effect. It was low and deep and jolly. “I am Mr. Schillig. Do you speak German?”
The boy shook his head, and the little girl quickly pulled her head back behind his legs like a little turtle.
“Well, you shall soon.” Kurt looked at Leah as he said it, and she frowned back at him.
“Are you a new tutor then?” Sebastian asked eagerly.
Leah stepped forward at that point and put her hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “No, dear, Mr. Schillig is a just a nice friend of Mr. Matthews. You know we can’t afford a tutor right now.” The crestfallen look on the boy’s face endeared him even more to Valentine. How he would enjoy a son who loved learning.
“Mother, why don’t you and the children have tea and then you can supervise Bastian’s studies while this little one,” she tapped a finger on Esme’s not so hidden nose, “takes a nap.” She turned to look at her mother. “I shall be in the garden with Mr. Westridge and Mr. Schillig.”
“Is everything all right, dear?” Mrs. Northcott asked.
“Yes, Mother, everything is fine. These two gentlemen are friends of Mr. Matthews. He sent a letter of introduction with them.”
“Oh, well, that’s nice.”
Mrs. Northcott was clearly confused, but Leah did not enlighten her. Instead she turned to Valentine and Kurt. “Shall we, gentlemen?” She indicated the door, and Kurt gestured that she should precede them. Mrs. Northcott and the children moved out of their way. Valentine saw Kurt give little Esme a broad smile as he left, and the tiny tot popped her thumb out of her mouth to return it.
* * * * *
Once in the garden, Valentine made several attempts to begin the conversation. Kurt tried to let him lead in this, but despite his usual disarming charm Valentine seemed to stumble over the words.
“You see, Mrs. Marleston,” Valentine began, “sometimes in war, well, men you see,” he paused and coughed, “that is to say, companions can often become, um…close, you see.”
Leah looked at him in confusion. “Well, of course men are drawn closer by their shared experiences, Mr. Westridge.”
“Yes, yes, exactly,” Valentine said happily. “And Kurt and I are, er, were, brought closer by the war.”
“So you were there with Mr. Matthews?” Leah asked helpfully.
“Yes, quite right, we were.” Valentine was less sure of himself here. It was obvious Leah had no idea what he was talking about.
Valentine heaved a giant sigh. “Mrs. Marleston,” he began again, stopping in the path beside a small rustic bench, “Kurt and I both wish to marry you because of our relationship.”
Leah and Kurt had stopped as well, and Leah looked back and forth between the men. “Because you are friends, you both wish to marry me?”
“Exactly,” Valentine said, nodding his head decisively.
As Leah and Valentine stared at one another uncomprehendingly, Kurt rolled his eyes and shook his head. He stepped forward until he was next to the two of them, the three forming a loose triangle on the path.
“May I?” he asked Valentine politely.
“Oh, oh yes, please do,” Valentine said, and he began to step back. Kurt stopped him with a hand on his arm.
Kurt turned to Leah, who smiled at him encouragingly. She was really quite breathtakingly lovely, Kurt thought, smiling back. And she was so sweet to poor tongue-tied Valentine.
“We,” Kurt began, waving a hand between himself and Valentine, “are lovers and have been since the war. We wish to take a wife—a woman who will be wife to both of us, in and out of the bedroom. We wish to have a family. We want to have all this with you and still remain lovers.”
* * * * *
The sound that escaped Leah’s throat at the blunt declaration could best be described as a squeak. She stumbled back a step, suddenly lightheaded.
“Mrs. Marleston!” cried Mr. Westridge as he rushed forward to grab her arm. “Let me help you,” he implored, guiding her gently to the bench directly behind her. When her knees hit the bench she sat with an undignified thump.
Mr. Schillig came up next to him with a look of concern. “I can see that I’ve alarmed you, and that was not my intention. I apologize.”
“No, no,” she said, and her voice sounded weak. She cleared her throat. “I mean, I’m…startled. This is hardly something I’m familiar with. I’ve heard stories, of course, but I’ve never met anyone who…that is…does Mr. Matthews know?”
Her face felt pale and she found it hard to look at Mr. Schillig. Mr. Westridge sat down next to her on the bench, and she thought it showed remarkable restraint that she didn’t immediately throw herself off in an attempt to get away from him. These were such intimate subjects; she’d never had such a conversation before.
“Yes, Stephen knows,” Mr. Westridge answered her. “He was the one who suggested we seek you out when we told him what we were planning. He said you were a sensible woman who would see the advantages in the situation.”
“What advantages?” Leah asked, still reeling in shock. Mr. Matthew
s knew, and he apparently approved!
“You are in desperate financial straits, Leah,” Mr. Westridge said gently. She knew she should chastise him for using her Christian name, but it sounded so wonderful when he said it. “I can help, we can help. We are both wealthy men. We can pay your debts, take care of you and the children properly. We can give you a fine home, and clothes, plentiful food, fires in the winter and a name to go with them—my name.”
“Mr. Schillig—” she began, but he cut her off.
“Kurt, I am Kurt,” he said softly, smiling at her. Her stomach flip-flopped at the thought of using his given name. Then Mr. Westridge picked up her hand and slid closer on the bench.
“And I am Valentine,” he said, kissing her hand. She felt the kiss deep in her core, and the fire there surprised her. She couldn’t possibly be considering this, could she?
She looked back at the tall blond man before her. What she had to ask wasn’t the most pertinent question, considering all they had just told her, but it was the one uppermost in her mind. “Kurt,” she tried out, speaking his name slowly. She was rewarded with another smile. “What do you hope to gain if I am to take Mr. Westridge’s name?” At the slight squeeze of her hand she looked over. “Valentine, I mean Valentine.” He also rewarded her with a smile.
“I will gain the same thing as Valentine, my dear, a wife and a mother for my children.”
Leah’s stomach clenched at his words. No, not her stomach, lower, and it was desire that caused it, not disgust. Her eyes widened as she stared at him, and she saw his brown eyes deepen with an answering desire as if he knew what she was feeling.
“This is something you would gain from also?” he asked, his accent more pronounced than it had been before.
“Perhaps,” Leah said slowly. She licked her lips nervously, her agitation growing when she saw Mr. Schillig, no Kurt, watching her mouth avidly. “But you must understand this is quite shocking to me. May I…may I inquire as to why you wish to take a wife?”
“Of course, Leah. I’m sure you have a great many questions.” Valentine sighed. “I know this is highly unusual—” Leah couldn’t stop her snort of disbelief at the sheer magnitude of that understatement. Valentine merely arched a brow and continued, “But we hope you will at least consider our proposal.” He rubbed a thumb over her knuckles, and Leah was startled to realize he still held her hand. She gently disengaged it and folded both hands in her lap. Valentine smiled a little wistfully and moved away from her slightly, clearly recognizing her need for more space. If she was to seriously consider their proposal she needed her mind unclouded by the nearness of him.
Leah waited patiently for him to answer her question. Valentine leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees, staring at the ground between his feet. “I mentioned earlier that Kurt and I were on the Peninsula together.” He looked over at Leah and she nodded.
“Yes, with Mr. Matthews.”
“Yes, with Stephen and so many others. Do you know much of war, Leah?” The question was asked casually but Leah noticed Valentine’s hands were fisted.
“No, Valentine,” she said softly, “not about the most recent I’m afraid. My own personal struggles took precedence over the news sheets.”
Valentine looked away and nodded. “That’s as it should be.” He sat back on the bench and looked at Kurt. “So many times we wondered, why are we here? What are we fighting for? What are our friends dying for? As young men you think it’s glory, heroism. But if you are there long enough you realize it’s more important things. Things such as honor and tradition, a way of life. You begin to categorize what’s important to you.” He looked at Leah. “Do you understand?”
Did she understand prioritizing your life? Oh yes, she understood. She’d had to do that many times over in the last few years. What was more important, the financial security of marrying an abusive bully, or shielding her children from the abuse they might suffer? And after that decision, what was more important, having new clothes to maintain a veneer of respectability and perhaps catch the eye of a potential husband, or making sure her children ate well? And on down the line, each decision altering her future until this moment. And now yet another decision stood before her. As with all her past decisions she would try to make a well-informed choice, but it would always, as in everything she did, be what was best for her children. They were the most important thing to her, their welfare her main concern. Valentine tipped his head to the side and regarded her quizzically and she realized she had not answered his question. “Yes, I understand having to choose what is most important to you.”
Kurt spoke from where he had moved to lean against a tree a few feet from the bench. “Not so much choose as decide. I do not believe we were in the same situation as you, Leah.”
Leah blushed as she saw the sympathetic look in his eyes. “No, Mr. Schillig. In my experience, men rarely are.” Kurt merely nodded once in acceptance of this fact. Still looking at Kurt, Leah asked, “And what was important to you?”
“Valentine,” was Kurt’s simple reply.
Leah turned to Valentine, who was smiling wryly. “He over-simplifies. We were important to one another, the most important thing, to be accurate. But we did not just want to survive. For many who were there too long survival became the main goal. But I, we, wanted more. We wanted a future.”
“Yes,” Kurt whispered, and when Leah looked Kurt had turned away to stare off into the hills in the distance.
“We thought very hard about what kind of future we could have, and what kind of future we wanted. As you can imagine in our situation the two are not always the same.” Valentine’s voice held a bitter note.
“That is true in most cases, Valentine, not just for you and Kurt.” Leah’s tone was bitter as well. How well she knew the taste of future happiness turned to ashes in the ruin of what was, never to experience what could have been.
“Of course. I guess we tend to forget everyone else’s troubles in light of our own. I’m sorry, Leah.”
Leah smiled wryly. “Yes, well, I’ve been rather wrapped up in my own troubles as well. Please, go on.”
Valentine sighed. “There’s not much more actually. What I wanted was a simple life. I wanted a nice country life, a modest home, a pretty wife, children. I want my most pressing concern to be whether it is hunting season or racing season. I want a pack of dogs, a houseful of children, and with all that I want Kurt.”
“And Kurt?” Leah asked, watching the blond man slowly turn to look at her.
“I have already told you. I want Valentine.”
“I see.” And truly she did. They were obviously in love with one another, a concept that should have shocked her but didn’t. She understood that when your back was to the wall you could no longer lie to yourself. You found yourself doing or saying things you never would have before, but when you had nothing left to lose what did it matter? When these two men were faced with death on a daily basis they looked at one another and with perfect clarity realized this is what I want, this is what I’m fighting for. And they survived. Leah had survived for her children.
“Why me?” Leah’s question wasn’t vanity. While she knew she was attractive, she had almost nothing else to recommend her to a potential mate. She was worse than penniless since she had unpaid debts, she had two young children, and no familial connections. “Surely there were women in London, women with whom you were acquainted, that you could have asked?”
Kurt straightened from the tree. “We did. They would not have us.”
“Oh I beg your pardon,” Leah said, startled and a little embarrassed. “I just assumed I was the first woman you had approached.” She smiled self-deprecatingly. “But now I understand, I am a last resort, am I not?”
Valentine looked very embarrassed but Kurt eyed her with approval. “You understand then where we are coming from, yes?” Kurt asked shrewdly.
“Why would they not have you?” Leah wanted to know if there was more objectionable about the two gentlem
en than the fact that they were lovers. She surprised herself with that thought. Already, knowing them for less than an hour, the thought of their being lovers was unexceptional to Leah. Now that she understood them a little at least, she found them to be amiable and honest, so far. Coupled with their expensive attire and their assurances that they were financially able to take care of Leah and the children, these attributes far outweighed their unusual relationship.
Valentine looked uncomfortable. “They naturally objected to our relationship. We first approached a woman I knew before the war. She is now a widow and we’d hoped that being sexually knowledgeable she would understand that our being lovers was not the horrific act so many people decry. Particularly since she knew me before I met Kurt, we thought she would be tolerant. As we mentioned, we are both wealthy men and we thought that in exchange for our wealth she, or someone like her, would accept both of us.”
Kurt snorted in disgust. “She swooned with horror and then shrieked for us to get out. She did not wish anyone to know that we thought she would accept such an ‘unnatural’, to use her word, relationship. Her vitriolic response made us more cautious. We waited months before approaching another woman. Valentine courted her singly, although I saw her and spoke to her numerous times. Only when she had softened toward Valentine and indicated she would be receptive to a proposal did we go to her and explain our situation. She didn’t bother to swoon. She slapped Valentine’s face and accused me of being a vile seducer of good Englishmen, and threw us out.”
“But she would have taken you, Valentine? On your own? I’m sure many women would. Why didn’t you pursue that avenue, marrying individually and still keeping Kurt, separate from your marriage?”
Valentine was shaking his head before she even finished speaking. “No, that is not what I want. I want Kurt. Everything else is for us, not just for me.” The glance the two men exchanged made Leah catch her breath. Valentine looked back at her and sighed. “After her dismissal I confided in Stephen Matthews.” He smiled at Leah. “He said he knew the perfect woman for us. I begin to believe he was right.”
Love's Strategy Page 2
