What a Widow Wants

by Jenna Jaxon

  “To find my best friend, Sarah—” Beatrice interrupted her mother this time. “You made her acquaintance, Fanny, I believe at Matthew’s party—”

  “Beatrice!” Lady Lathbury actually snapped the word, hard enough that her daughter drew back in her chair. “Lady Stephen will believe that I raised children with no sense of how to behave in polite company. I beg your pardon, Lady Stephen, for this disgraceful behavior.” She looked askance at both her offspring, pausing as if expecting yet another disruption.

  Both remained mute, and the lady continued. “Sarah Broadman, who you may indeed remember, had an offer of marriage from Lord Malin on the Sunday of the house party. She insisted on having the banns read, rather than securing a special license, so the wedding did not occur until September fifteenth.”

  “I am so happy for her.” Fanny attempted enthusiasm, however it was hollow. She had hoped her own wedding would have taken place by now.

  “And Beatrice must attend the wedding as the bridesmaid, of course. They have been friends from the cradle.” Lady Lathbury waited, apparently for her daughter to make some new rapture, but Beatrice sat still, thank goodness. “Then we found the carriage in need of repair, which took almost a week. And so we have come, at last, to meet your daughter.”

  “And I am so glad to have you here.” Fanny smiled broadly, ringing the bell for tea before Lady Lathbury could begin again. “I have told Ella of your visit today. She will be brought in presently. She is a little shy with strangers, but I have talked with her about you and especially about Matthew”—she sent a special smile to him—“and the role he is to play in our lives shortly.”

  “Then you have settled it between you?” Beatrice bounded up in her chair, unable to sit still any longer. “You will marry?”

  “After today’s visit with Ella, we will know better,” Fanny replied cautiously. Smiling at Matthew, who nodded, she grasped his hand. “But yes, we are to be married.”

  “Oh, splendid!” Beatrice jumped up to hug Fanny about the shoulders. “Allow me to be the first to wish you happy! Well done, Matthew. Now I will have a sister with whom I can talk as a friend. You cannot know, Fanny, how dreary it is to have sisters who are so very much younger. They cannot understand anything I tell them about, well, anything.” She shrugged. “But now I can confide in you and you can give me advice next spring when I have my come-out.”

  “Fanny can help with your come-out in fact, Bea.” Matthew had on a very self-satisfied expression.

  “We shall see about that, Rowley. I would not like to impose on Lady Stephen so soon after her marriage. Being the wife of an earl will be much different from being the wife of the third son of a marquess.”

  Fanny managed to maintain a pleasant demeanor, but the words ate at her. Her life had better be much different than her previous marriage.

  The footman entered and placed the tea on the table next to Fanny. “Thank you, Thomas.”

  “My lady.” He bowed and left, shutting the doors.

  “Do you take milk and sugar, Lady Lathbury?”

  “Yes, thank you. Two good-sized lumps, please, and a trickle of milk.” The countess gazed about the small but well-appointed room.

  Fanny had chosen it over the larger receiving room because it was a soothing pale blue color and the furniture looked brighter as it was seldom used. She hoped its small size would foster a sense of intimacy between herself and the countess. And not overwhelm Ella as the family drawing room was wont to do. The child should be here at any moment.

  Remembering how Lady Beatrice and Matthew took their tea, she hurriedly poured and fixed them, handing the cups round with an efficiency that she seldom achieved. She had just poured her own cup and dropped in the sugar when the door opened, and Fanny sent up a heartfelt prayer that nothing would go amiss with this meeting.

  CHAPTER 18

  Hand clasped firmly in Nurse’s, Ella walked through the door in her white new gown, trimmed with pretty crocheted lace and a delicate pink sash. With her fair complexion and dark hair she looked like one of the pretty porcelain dolls in her room. Eyes wide, staring at the strange people before her, Ella started to tremble.

  Fanny caught her eye and put her fingers to the corners of her mouth, to remind the child to smile, as they’d rehearsed just that morning. Then held her hand out to her daughter. “Ella, my love, I would like for you to meet some friends.”

  “What a lovely child.” Lady Beatrice smiled encouragingly.

  Letting go of Nurse’s hand, Ella ran toward her mother, until remembering her manners, she slowed to a walk. Once she stood before Fanny, she curtsied prettily. “Good afternoon, Mama.”

  “Good afternoon, my dear.” Fanny smiled and nodded. So far, so good. “I would like to introduce you to some of my friends. Would you like that, Ella?”

  “Yes, Mama.” The child sighed gravely.

  “Then first, Lady Lathbury, may I present my daughter, Miss Ella Tarkington? Ella, make your curtsy to Lady Lathbury.” Fanny held her breath.

  “How do you do, my lady?” Ella carefully bent her knees, her face tense with concentration.

  “I am very well, Ella.” Lady Lathbury peered at the girl. “How old are you, my dear?”

  With a quick look at Fanny, Ella straightened as tall as she could and said, “Six years old.”

  “You are quite tall for your age, I see. I would have thought you at least a girl of eight years.” The countess continued to peer at the child. “You have your mother’s coloring, I see. Unless your late husband was also dark?”

  “No, my lady. He was very fair.” Fanny hastened to add, “But she takes after him in other ways. Lady Theale often remarks that Ella is very like Lord Stephen, save in the color of her hair.”

  “I see.” Lady Lathbury sipped her tea, her gaze still on Ella.

  “Lady Beatrice, my daughter. This is Lady Beatrice, Lady Lathbury’s daughter. And this”—she steered Ella toward Matthew after she’d bobbed another brief curtsy—“is Lord Lathbury, Lady Lathbury’s son. We talked about him, do you remember?”

  Ella nodded then craned her head back to look up at Matthew. “You’re tall.”

  “I am indeed, Ella.” He grinned down at her. “As my mother pointed out, you are tall as well. So is my sister. And your mother is taller than most women.” Suddenly he stooped and scooped her up in his arms, making her shriek with laughter. “Now you are as tall as I am.”

  “I am, I am!” Ella gazed about from her new vantage point, a grin reaching from ear to ear. “Can I be taller than you?”

  “Well, let’s see.”

  “Matthew—” Fanny tried to intervene before the visit spun out of control, but Matthew ignored her.

  “Let me lift you, there.” He raised Ella until her head inched just above his. “Now you are the tallest in the room.”

  “I am, I am.” Ella giggled and threw her arms around Matthew’s neck. “We are the tallest people in the world.”

  “And the smartest and the prettiest.” Matthew laughed along with her, his face pressed close to Ella’s.

  Struck dumb, Fanny froze, her hand gripping the back of the nearest chair.

  “Lady Stephen, did you wish me to take Miss Ella up for her tea now?” Nurse’s question finally penetrated Fanny’s fog-filled mind. Still unable to summon words, she nodded and turned away lest Matthew or Beatrice see her face.

  “No, Mama!” Ella cried. “Let me stay here. You said I could have tea with you and Lord . . . Lord . . .”

  “Lathbury,” Matthew supplied. “Perhaps I could have my tea in the nursery with you instead, Ella. Would that be all right?”

  Not knowing what to say, Fanny looked at Lady Lathbury, whose cool eyes had missed nothing. “I think that a splendid idea, Rowley. Beatrice will go along as well for company.”

  “But Mama—”

  “Beatrice.” The commanding tone in the countess’s voice brooked no dissent. “Go with Matthew and the child. I believe Lady Stephen is overwrought an
d needs a moment.”

  “Fanny?” Matthew’s concerned voice sent a shiver of dread down her spine.

  Gathering her wits, she put on an unconcerned smile and turned to him, Ella still in his arms. “I have done too much preparation for this meeting, I fear, Matthew. That is all. I am fatigued and overcome with an attack of vapors. It will pass.” She tried to smile to reassure him. “Go have tea with Ella. I think you have made yet another conquest.”

  The concerned look did not leave his face. Gently, he slid Ella to the ground. “Wait with Nurse, poppet. I must speak a word with your mother.”

  As Ella ran to her nurse, Matthew took Fanny’s arm. Out of the corner of her eye Lady Lathbury drew Beatrice to her.

  “Fanny, is something wrong? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.” He kissed her hand passionately then squeezed it. “Have you discovered that you are increasing?”

  She blew out the breath she’d been holding. “No, my dear. Unfortunately that is not the case.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, glad to be able to tell him some truth. “My courses finished yesterday and always leave me somewhat weak. That is likely the cause of my dizziness just now. So please go, have tea with Ella. That was the plan, was it not? To see how you get along together. I think she’s very taken with you.”

  “And I with her.” His gaze strayed back to the doorway where Nurse waited with Ella hopping impatiently from one foot to the other. “Such a lovely child, Fanny. The spitting image of her mother.”

  “She has some of her father about her as well.”

  “I see nothing of Stephen in her.” Matthew grimaced. “Let us hope she does not take after him in other ways.”

  “No, I pray God she does not.”

  “I shall return to you shortly, although I fear I must accompany Mother and Beatrice back to Hunter’s Terrace. We are dining tonight with friends of my parents. Perhaps tomorrow you will ride in the park with me. You and Ella.”

  “No!” Fanny caught herself and laid her hand on his arm. “I am sorry. I am still overwrought, I fear. Likely I will need a few days in bed to recover completely.”

  “I do not understand why you worked yourself into a state about this meeting, my love. Ella is a delightful child. I trust I have put all your fears to rest on that account.”

  Gazing at him, her heart aching with love and despair, Fanny simply smiled and took his arm. “You should go before she becomes impatient.”

  “As I said, very like her mother.” With a quick kiss on her lips, Matthew joined Ella and took her hand. “Lead the way, Nurse. Our tea awaits.”

  “I can show you the way, Lord Laffbury.” Ella tugged at his hand and they, with Beatrice bringing up the rear, moved down the corridor where Ella’s sweet, high voice drifted back. “Why did your mama call you Rowley?”

  As soon as they disappeared, Fanny dropped down onto the chaise and buried her face in her hands. Oh, dear God, how had this happened? What was she to do?

  “I take it, then, that you did not know that Ella was my son’s child, Lady Stephen?” The countess’s voice brought Fanny’s head up with a jerk. She’d quite forgotten the woman was still in the room.

  Could she perhaps deny it? One look at Lady Lathbury told her this was out of the question. “No, I had no idea until a few minutes ago. When did you discover it?”

  “Almost from the moment the child walked into the room. She is very like Rowley when he was her age.” The countess sat, hands in her lap. “I spoke to Beatrice. She will not say a word to him.”

  “She realized it as well?”

  “Of course she did. Anyone with an eye who has met Rowley, would see it. Except, apparently, you.” Suspicion gleamed in the woman’s crystal blue eyes. Matthew’s eyes. Ella’s eyes.

  “I swear to you, my lady, I did not know she was Matthew’s daughter.” Fanny grabbed a napkin from the abandoned tea tray and wiped her eyes. “Three years into my marriage my husband was unfaithful to me, in ways that hurt me very much. I sought to get revenge on him by having an affair with Matthew, who had, as you know, offered for me before I accepted Stephen. I believe we were discreet in the extreme. No one has ever even hinted about the affair, which lasted about four months.”

  “You must have indeed been more discreet than most. I heard not a word bandied about you and him.” She sat unmoving, unblinking, her gaze trained solely on Fanny.

  “After three months, I began to feel guilty about the lie we were living.” No need to tell her about her family’s deaths. That pain, at least, would remain private. “I wished to break it off, but Matthew wanted me to elope with him to Italy.”

  “A very foolish notion. Neither of you would have ever been received in Polite Society again.”

  “I told him that, but he did not wish to hear it. I feared he would become even more belligerent and challenge my husband to a duel. So I broke with him, refused to see him, and returned to my husband’s bed, trying to atone for my sins.” She wiped her streaming eyes, the pain she’d suffered in leaving Matthew almost more than she could bear to recall. “A month or so later I found I was with child. I’d no reason to think it Matthew’s. We’d been together for months and I hadn’t conceived, but as soon as I returned to my husband, I did. It seemed obvious it was Stephen’s. When she was born she had dark hair and blue eyes, but so do I. Others said they could see Stephen in her, so that is what I believed. I never saw Matthew again to compare them until this June.”

  “When you did see him, I find it difficult to believe you weren’t struck by their resemblance.” If words could drip ice, these would.

  “Seeing them together, it seems ludicrous that I did not see it. But again, after six years of believing one thing, why would I suddenly believe something different? Until I was faced with the undeniable proof.” Proof of her infidelity that anyone in Society would see whenever they were in public together. God, what could she do?

  “You will have to tell him. He has a right to know she is his child.”

  Inflexible words that were only the truth. “I know. I will.”

  “Today? It might be best. If anyone sees them together, they will be bound to say something to him. And then it may go worse for you.” The unexpected flicker of pity from the countess took her by surprise.

  “I have told him I am indisposed for the next few days, then we are to go to a house party in Kent next weekend. Perhaps it will be best to tell him there, in a different setting.” She’d never believed herself a coward, but she could not tell Matthew today. She must have a few more days of happiness before it all came crashing down. “I can keep him away from Ella until then.” What Matthew would say when she told him, she had no idea, save it would not be pleasant for her. Nor would the aftermath, for somehow she must find the strength to tell him and then to walk away from him yet again.

  CHAPTER 19

  The lengthy carriage ride to Kent through the crisp October air had been chilly, but Fanny had scarcely noticed, until she discovered her toes were numb when they stopped to change horses some hours into the journey. Instead, she’d been all consumed in devising when and how during Charlotte’s house party to tell Matthew that he was Ella’s real father.

  If she were an optimistic ninny, she’d expect he would clap his hands and jump for joy to find the girl he’d thought the daughter of his rival was actually his own. And take pleasure in the fact that he had thoroughly cuckolded the man he’d been jealous of for so many years. Matthew might indeed feel smug and vindicated, but those would not be his initial reactions to the news, she feared. Fury, betrayal, and condemnation were more likely the first responses she would have to counter with assurances that she had not known the true circumstances of Ella’s birth.

  In truth, had she known at the time she might very well not have told him. What good would it have done, save to incite him to challenge Stephen in the hopes of killing him so he could take his place as her husband. The scandal of that would have ruined them as surely as their eloping to the Continent.
She’d been hard-pressed to make Matthew see reason on that front. Had there been a child to consider he would never have stopped trying to press for their marriage.

  Now, however, even with the circumstances changed by Stephen’s death, the situation was fraught with peril. If Matthew could believe that she’d not been hiding Ella’s parentage from him on purpose, he’d likely still wish to marry her. And although she would love to do so, she must think of Ella’s future in all this. Anytime she was seen in public with Matthew, people would notice their resemblance. How could they miss it? Now that she’d seen it she could never un-see it. Talk would inevitably ensue. The ton would erupt with gossip about her and Matthew. Their affair all those years ago would come to light and the on-dits would fill the newssheets. It could become bad enough that they would not be received in some homes.

  Theale and Lavinia had spoken of one such incident years ago, an acquaintance of Lavinia’s who had come to grief in a similar manner. The lady had taken a lover while still married and had borne a child who looked remarkably like its father. Lavinia had given Fanny to know that after it came out, as it must for the resemblance was so great, she had given the woman the cut direct and refused her entry to Theale House.

  Dear God. What would happen to her if Lavinia or Theale found out? She couldn’t even begin to imagine their horror. Of course, Theale would likely insist she be removed from the house, although her settlements stipulated it remain her home until she married. Would she then need to marry Matthew in order to escape Theale’s retribution—and that retribution would be harsh she had no doubt—for bringing such scandal and shame onto his house? What a diabolical tangle she’d gotten herself into.

  Worse than what might happen to Fanny, however, was what might happen to Ella. Legally, she would always be considered Stephen’s child as they had been married at the time of her birth. In the eyes of Polite Society, however, what if she were looked upon as no more than Matthew’s by-blow. What that might do to her social life, her ability to make friends, or her prospects for a good marriage Fanny had no idea. She’d often heard whispers about this child and that one being a “cuckoo” in the nest, but had paid relatively little attention to such things that obviously didn’t concern her. Pity she hadn’t been more attentive.