The Wanton Widow - A Regency Novella

by Caylen McQueen

  “If I am Artemis, then you are Apollo!” Willow said to Philip.

  “And what would that make me, exactly?” Olly squawked.

  His companions took a moment to mull it over, then Philip declared, “I could see you as the jolly god Pan.”

  Olly crossed his arms, dissatisfied with his friend's answer. “Very well. But if you're Apollo and Artemis, is your relationship not incestuous?! They are brother and sister, are they not?”

  Philip responded to Olly's question with a roll of his eyes. The conversation waned as breakfast drew to a close. Edward was the first to excuse himself from the table. They had agreed to meet for a hunting excursion at a later hour, which couldn't come soon enough for Willow who, despite her disappointment, was eager to see Edward again.

  But he didn't show up.

  Philip, Willow and Olly were standing in front of the house, rifles in hand, but Edward was nowhere in sight.

  “Where is Edward? Is he not coming, or is he late?” Willow asked.

  Olly's answer surprised her. “He's gone.”

  “Gone. Gone?! What do you mean?!” It was impossible to suppress the panic in her voice.

  “He's gone back to London,” Olly said. “Don't ask me why. I haven't the slightest idea!”

  Willow had a few ideas, but she didn't like any of them.

  He was jealous.

  He was disgusted by her behavior.

  He never wanted to see her again.

  Whatever the case, Edward's sudden exodus left a tremendous hole in her heart.

  Chapter Eleven

  “You're leaving me?!” Philip chased her around the room as Willow gathered her belongings and tossed them into a valise. “But why?!”

  “I do not think you would like the reason.”

  As she reached for her folded undergarments, Philip seized her wrist. “Was I not a passionate and attentive lover?”

  “Of course you were!” Willow exclaimed. “You were perfectly satisfying in every way.”

  “Perfectly satisfying!?” Philip whimpered. “That's almost as bad as saying I was adequate! Surely I was better than that?”

  “You were... perfect,” she corrected herself, tugging her arm from his grip.

  They were back in London now, having returned just two days ago. Their trip had been a disappointment, particularly for Philip, who kept wondering why their intimacy was at a standstill. He would not let her go until he had his reason.

  “Is it because you wanted something more?!” Philip asked. “Were you hoping I would marry you, Willow?”

  “No. Most definitely not!”

  “I must have disappointed you in some way... or said something to anger you?”

  “Not that I can recall.”

  “Then why would you leave?! I cannot figure it out...” Philip scratched his head as he watched her pack her valise. “Unless...”

  “Unless what?” she pressed.

  “Unless you're in love with someone else!” Philip finished. He sat on the end of the bed and crossed his arms, taking an accusatory stance. “That's what it is, isn't it?”

  “I...” If he had figured it out, there was no sense in denying it. “Yes.”

  “Who could you possibly be in love with? Is it an acquaintance of mine?”

  “Is it necessary for you to know?”

  “Yes!” Philip raked his hands across his face in grief. “It's necessary! It's... wait...” He closed his eyes as the realization dawned on him. “It's Edward, is it not?”

  Willow gave a tiny nod.

  “I should have known!” Philip exclaimed. “The way you were always slipping off together... and the way you would light up whenever he was around. I should have figured it out long ago!”

  “Are you angry with me?” Willow asked, her lips trembling.

  “No. Not at you.”

  “Please don't be angry with Edward!” Willow beseeched him. “He did nothing to encourage my feelings, nor does he return them. If it is any consolation whatsoever, I can honestly say there is no chance Edward and I will be together.”

  “It's no consolation,” Philip said with a sigh. “But... no matter. I'm going to go out for a bit. I'll have one of the footmen help you into the carriage.”

  When she saw him head for the door, Willow hollered, “Wait!”

  Philip paused in the doorway, but he refused to face her direction. “What is it, minx?”

  “I hope you don't mind, but I'm taking Eddie with me,” she said. “I'm assuming you won't be rendered heartbroken by his absence?”

  “Of course not!” Philip chuckled at the prospect. “I'm happy to be rid of the mutt. In fact, if he's going with you, I'll help you into the carriage myself...”

  * * *

  When she arrived at her brother's front door, valise in hand, Willow held her breath for a few seconds. She hated to be at her brother's mercy, especially when her brother did not approve of her recent tryst. Willow knew he was ashamed of her, but she had no other option. It was either her brother or the streets, and Arthur's wrath was preferable. Slightly.

  The butler answered the door, grabbed her valise, and showed her to one of the sitting rooms. Eddie followed her, practically nipping at her heels as they ventured inside. Willow waited on the settee and observed her surroundings, which were pleasantly familiar. She stared at a vase on the mantle, which belonged to her grandmother, and she felt the surprising twitch of a smile on her lips.

  It had been so long since she had smiled. Specifically, it had been a week. Seven days had passed since she last saw Edward, and for seven days she had nursed a broken heart. If only she had never met him, she could have continued to enjoy the blissful oblivion of a relationship with Lord Mowbray.

  But she would have never known what it was like to love someone. There was something oddly pleasant about the way her unrequited love tugged at her heart. It reminded her she was human, that she was alive.

  When Arthur arrived, Willow tucked her head between her shoulders. Only two years separated them, and yet she felt like she was in the presence of a furious father.

  “Willow.” His voice was cold as he acknowledged her.

  “Greetings, brother. As you can see, I've returned.”

  Eddie stumbled toward Arthur and sniffed his boots, so he bent down and gave the puppy's head a scratch. “So I see. And you've brought a friend?”

  “Pardon?”

  “The dog.” Arthur looked down at the mutt, who was raking its paws against his breeches.

  “Oh. Right. That's Eddie.” She tried to get the dog's attention, to call him back to her, but the animal was too focused on the new arrival to pay her any heed.

  “Eddie,” Arthur repeated. “So, did the servants offer you any refreshments? Now that you are here, you should have your favorite biscuits.”

  “No. Perhaps they did not think you would welcome me back?”

  “And why would they think that?” Arthur asked. “Of course I would welcome you back, you silly goose. You're the only sister I've got... as infuriating as you are.”

  “So I can stay?!” Willow exclaimed. She could feel her shoulders relax, and the tension was released. “You're not going to toss me out?”

  “Certainly not!” Arthur scooped Eddie off the ground and cradled the mutt in his arms. If the siblings had one thing in common, it was their love for all things bestial. “I suppose you could say... I'm happy to have you back.”

  Willow's smile returned. “Are you?”

  “Indeed I am,” he asserted. “I am loathe to admit... I was getting a bit lonely without you. As it happens, I quite enjoy your vexing presence.”

  * * *

  The next few days with Arthur were surprisingly pleasant, as long as she did not take her broken heart into account. For her brother's sake, Willow tried to look like a lady. She wore simple frocks, in varying shades of pink and white. She kept her hair tucked away in a tight bun, like some sort of stern governess. Arthur had no complaints, so she assumed she was pull
ing off the look with some success.

  At the moment, they were sitting together in a study, where Willow's nose was tucked between the pages of a book. Yesterday, she found a copy of Rob Roy in their library, and she had been fastened to it ever since.

  “When did you become a bluestocking?” Arthur teased her.

  “I am not a bluestocking!” Willow defended herself. “A lady does not have to be a bluestocking to enjoy a good book!”

  “Nevertheless, I cannot remember the last time I saw you reading!”

  “I like to read!” she insisted. “You aren't around me all the time, Arthur. You don't know how I spend my private time!”

  “When is the last time you read a book?” Arthur leaned across the table, checking her book title, “And that doesn't include Rob Roy.”

  “I read a novel... two years ago,” Willow confessed. “But that isn't so long ago! And I'll have you know, I read poetry quite often!”

  “Poetry?”

  “Yes!” Willow gave a proud nod. “I have a particular fondness for Lord Byron.”

  “You only like him because he is handsome!” Arthur accused her.

  “Oh... hush! What would you know about handsome men?” As long as her brother was teasing her, it was impossible to focus on reading. She closed the book and set it aside, then reached for a quill.

  There were so many words bottled inside her, and she desperately needed to release them.

  Dearest Edward,

  I regret that we parted on such bad terms, and I am certain the fault lies with me. I flaunted my rapport with Philip in hopes that it would make you jealous. I am not sure why you left so suddenly, but I would assume my thoughtless behaviour has something to do with it. For that, I deeply apologise.

  Do you remember when I confessed to you that I had never been in love? Now I can say, with confidence, that is no longer true. I am in love with you, Edward Harcourt. I love you so much, you have consumed my every thought.

  But how could I not love you? You possess all the qualities I could hope for in a man, and more. You are kind and adorable and endearingly awkward. You make me laugh, you melt me with your smile. You have given me no reason to believe you might return my feelings, but I am fine with that. Even if you never return my love, I am glad to have loved you.

  Every day, I wake up and wonder what you might be doing. I imagine you spending time with Jane Abrahms, and my imaginings wrench my heart. Nevertheless, I believe she is a very lucky girl, and if she makes you happy, then I will try to be happy for you. After all, when we began our acquaintance, I wanted to help you woo her. If she has fallen for you, then I suppose it is something of a success for us.

  I don't know if we will ever cross paths again, but I needed you to know how I feel. I love you, Edward. And I miss you every day.

  With love,

  Willow

  When she finished the letter, Arthur had to ask, “What are you writing?”

  “What I'm writing is no concern of yours!” She set the letter aside and reached for her book. “Now, if you don't mind, I am going to try to read. I don't know about you, but when I read, I require silence. In other words... don't talk!”

  “Spoken like a true bluestocking,” Arthur teased her.

  In response, Willow walloped her brother's head with Rob Roy.

  Chapter Twelve

  If there was one thing Willow would regret about the day, it was the fact that she had decided to ride sidesaddle. First, she had struggled to mount the horse in her gown. Second, she spent the entire trip feeling as if she would slip from the saddle. She was riding to her usual spot, but she only made it halfway, seeing as the whole sidesaddle thing was dashed inconvenient.

  She was carrying a basket with her, from which Eddie was poking out his little head. He desperately needed grooming; his eyes were currently hidden under a mess of brown curls. Eddie's nose, however, was as black and wet as always. When he sneezed, something flew from his nose and moistened her lacy glove.

  “It's useless, really... riding like this.” Willow was speaking to Eddie as if he could understand her. She tugged off her snot-covered glove and tossed it into the basket, which was practically an invitation for the puppy to start chewing on it. “My efforts to be more ladylike end tomorrow... mark my words!”

  Willow turned the horse around and started heading back to her brother's house. As she drew near, she was met with an unexpected and titillating sight.

  Edward Harcourt was standing in front of the house. He was as shabby as ever, with his unfashionable brown greatcoat and boots that might have suited a farmer. Nevertheless, she swore he was the handsomest man she had ever seen.

  Predictably, Willow's heart started racing as she drew near. She dismounted her horse and laid the basket on the ground, which was a mistake, because Eddie decided to steal the show. He ran toward Edward as quickly as his little legs would carry him, and when he reached his destination, he pounced. If Edward had worn fancier boots, he might have regretted the fact that the puppy was chewing on his toes.

  “Edward.” She calmly uttered his name as she approached. “How unexpected.”

  “Willow.”

  Edward ran to her. Not walked—ran. As soon as he got to her, he cupped her cheek in the palm of his hand, lifted her chin, and kissed her lips. His mouth devoured her, his lips suckled hers. When his tongue slipped out to tickle her lower lip, Willow had to giggle. Not only was it a dream come true, but he was like a completely different man!

  When his mouth departed, she asked, “What has gotten into you, Edward Harcourt?!”

  “You,” Edward replied.

  “Me?!” She laid her hands on her hips. “What do you mean?”

  “What I mean...?” he pondered. “What I mean, Willow, is that I don't think I can live without you.”

  Willow wondered if she should pinch herself. She was, after all, skilled at pinching. And this was, after all, the moment she had been longing for.

  “Hear me out,” Edward went on. “I... I wish I was more eloquent. All my life, my shyness has crippled me. When you were pouring out your heart to me, I wanted so badly to tell you how I felt, but I couldn't find the words. You see, I'm not very good at expressing myself. Actually, I'm quite bad at it.”

  “You're improving,” Willow commended him.

  “And I was shocked,” Edward continued. “I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe that a woman like you, the beautiful Wilomena Worthington, would be interested in the likes of me. I couldn't believe you would actually choose me over Philip.”

  “You're a much better man than Philip,” Willow said. “And you like dogs.” She looked down at Eddie, who had somehow managed to get his hairy legs covered in leaves and foliage.

  “As a matter of fact, I spoke to Philip a few days ago,” Edward said, “only to discover you were no longer with him. I had to beg him to tell me where you were. In fact, I had to get down on my hands and knees!”

  “You didn't!” Willow gasped.

  “I did. And I very nearly licked his boots! It was his request, not mine... and thank goodness it did not come to that.” Edward pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. “But I would have licked a thousand boots to find you again.”

  “I don't know if that is the most romantic thing I've ever heard... or the strangest,” Willow said with a chuckle. “Anyway, did you not receive my letter? I told you where I was staying. I believe I even gave you the address...”

  “Letter?!”

  “Yes. My letter. The one in which I poured out my heart?” When she saw the confusion in his eyes, Willow realized he never read it. The revelation made her entire body tingle. “You mean, it wasn't my letter that inspired you to come here?”

  “No!” Edward exclaimed. “I never received a letter. W-w-what did it say?”

  Willow almost pinched him for stuttering, but she was too swept up in the moment to care. “I said I loved you!”

  “R-Really?”

  “Yes! I have officially falle
n for you, Edward,” Willow reported. “Which would make you the first man I've ever loved.”

  “Me? Honestly?! I'm not worthy!”

  “No, I am not worthy!” Willow retorted. “I'm ashamed of my behavior... the way I've acted all these years. I feel like a fallen woman. But I'll try to change. These last few days, I've tried to be more ladylike, because I know you deserve better than me.”

  “Willow...” His palm returned to her face, and his thumb stroked her cheekbone. “There is no one better than you.”

  “I wish I believed that...” Willow sighed. “What about Miss Abrahms? You deserve to be with someone like her. You care for her, do you not?”

  “I do care for her,” Edward confessed. “But I love you.”

  Willow's eyes bulged. “You... wait... you what?!”

  “I love you as you are, the brazen woman who wears breeches and fires rifles. I wouldn't change anything about you.”

  “But there are too many reasons why I'm not suitable for you,” Willow insisted. “You couldn't possibly love me. I'm a widow. I was Philip's mistress!”

  “And I don't care!” Edward exclaimed. “It doesn't matter. I'm in love with you, and you're the only one I want.” When he saw the tears in her eyes, Edward scooped her into his arms and held her against his chest. He could feel her trembling as he caressed her back. “Willow, I love everything about you!”

  “E-everything?” She was the one who was stuttering now.

  “Everything!” he repeated. “You're beautiful, of course, but it's more than that. I love your laugh, your smile. I love the way you search for me when we're in a room together. I love how easily we converse, and how you've filled me with confidence. I'm a better man because of you. You've made me stronger.”

  “And I'm a better woman because of you,” Willow said. “You've taught me how to love.”

  “Now there's only one thing left to do.”

  “And what is that?” Willow laid her palms against his cheeks, framing his face. His good looks weren't of the classic variety, but she had never seen a more handsome man. If she could spend the rest of her life staring into his beautiful green eyes, she knew she would be the happiest woman in the world.