What a Widow Wants

by Jenna Jaxon

  Scrubbing her hand over her face as the telltale heat flushed her cheeks, Fanny shook her head. All she wanted was the quiet of her room and some time to decide what to do . . . and when to do it. She must tell Matthew of her suspicions, although after this afternoon’s encounter she had no idea if he would listen to her. “I simply need some time to rest, ladies. The wedding and Elizabeth’s collapse would have been quite enough to stir one’s emotions without the encounter with Matthew. I’ll skip the breakfast, have the coachman take me back to Lyttlefield Park with Elizabeth, and rest in my room until dinner. I daresay all will be fine by then.”

  “If you are sure, my dear?” Staring at Fanny as though trying to see into her soul, Jane finally sighed. “I will come see to you first thing when I return to dress for dinner.”

  “And I, Fanny.” Georgie nodded determinedly. “I will talk to Lord Lathbury during the breakfast if I can. Men always seem to want to confide in me.”

  Lord help her if Georgie managed to wheedle anything out of Matthew, although a confession of his love would not come amiss presently.

  * * *

  The graying light around the edges of the curtain was enough to wake Fanny, who blinked and stretched. She had needed that nap more than she’d known. Sinking back into the warm mattress, she dreaded rising to get ready for dinner and another confrontation with Matthew, but it must be faced. She sat up and lit the lamp beside her bed. Time to make herself as ravishing as possible and try to win back her love.

  Slipping her feet to the floor, she padded over to the window and pulled the curtains back to stare out at the gray landscape, a few tendrils of fog twining around a carriage stopped in the driveway. A late return from the wedding breakfast? It must have been a merry time, one she was sorry to have missed, but her head was much clearer after her rest, ready to take on the world—or at least Matthew.

  She pulled the bell rope beside her bed, and pondered which gown to choose. She’d yet to wear the green with gold overlay she’d bespoke after her shopping trip with Elizabeth early last month, before her troubles with Matthew had begun. She’d made it with him in mind, of course. A very fetching garment that accentuated her breasts, always the way to claim his attention. Wandering back to the window, she noted the carriage now heading down the driveway. Returning to Wrotham Hall, perhaps, though dinner was supposed to be here tonight. A ray of sun shot through the clouds, brightening the landscape and bouncing off the shiny black lacquered body of the disappearing carriage.

  Brightening? Fanny peered out the window again. The light was getting brighter, not dimmer with the failing of the light as she’d supposed.

  “Good morning, my lady.” Sarah, the upstairs maid tending to her during this visit, suppressed a yawn. “You’re up early this morning.” She lifted a large pitcher. “I’ve brought your washing water.”

  “Morning?” Dazedly she turned around, the room getting lighter by the second. “It can’t be morning. I was supposed to be awakened for dinner. Who let me sleep?”

  “Lady Cavendish . . . that is Lady Wrotham. She gave orders you and Mrs. Easton were not to be disturbed last night. I came with a tray about ten o’clock, but you were still asleep, my lady, so I came away.”

  “Dear Lord.” Fanny sat on the bed, her head spinning. She must dress and seek out Matthew without delay. Perhaps she could meet him in the breakfast room and beg a private interview. If he would give her the chance, she would gladly apologize for her behavior and words yesterday. Why must she ever act foolish when dealing with him? “Please fetch my green lutestring with the gold trim. Is anyone else stirring this early?”

  “No, my lady. No one save the one gentleman who left just now.” Sarah headed into the dressing room.

  “Which gentleman?” Dread seized Fanny’s heart. It couldn’t be . . .

  “Lord Lathbury, my lady,” she called from within the chamber. “He didn’t wait for breakfast. His gentleman said he wanted an early start for London.”

  All the strength draining out of her, Fanny sank onto the bed. There was an end to it. He obviously did not wish to see her. That much was dreadfully clear. And yet, she must see him, tell him her suspicions, and pray that he would take pity on her and marry her. If he would not, she had no hope of avoiding the scandal of bearing a bastard child.

  “On second thought, Sarah, bring my blue traveling dress. I believe I too must set out for London posthaste.” If she did not overtake him on the road, she would seek an interview with him tomorrow in Town. She could not allow this impending disaster to hang over her head for very long. Her life, along with Ella’s and this child’s, were now irreparably linked to Matthew’s. Pray God he did not fail them now.

  CHAPTER 24

  Weary enough to drop down where she stood, Fanny knocked on the door at Theale House after an all-day journey in the carriage. Try though she might, she’d never met Matthew at any of the coaching inns where they’d changed horses. Perhaps he changed his less frequently or simply chose different inns. At any rate, she’d have to write to him tomorrow and ask for an interview. If he refused the audience or didn’t answer her at all, she didn’t know what she would do.

  The butler opened the door and Fanny trudged in. “Thank you, Noyes. Can you please have Cook send me up something on a tray? I’m not very hungry, but I’m so fagged I cannot see straight.”

  “Lord and Lady Theale are in the drawing room, my lady. His lordship requested that if you happened to arrive this evening, I was to direct you to him.” Noyes took her pelisse and bonnet and bowed.

  “Very well.” Straightening out her travel-stained gown as best she could, Fanny headed toward the odious room. Why couldn’t the summons have come tomorrow, once she’d gotten the rest she so desperately needed? She’d dozed most of the day in the carriage, but it felt as though she hadn’t slept in days. Mounting the stairs by dint of will alone, she dragged herself down the corridor to the family’s gathering place. Best get this over with. She hadn’t a clue what the summons was for. Likely something to do with the coming Christmas holiday.

  The door had been left ajar so she walked in. Theale and Lavinia were seated side by side, Lavinia on her “throne,” her husband on an old tufted, black leather chair that had seen much service. The two shared a glance when Fanny marched toward them.

  “Lady Stephen,” Theale intoned in his gravelly voice. “Will you be seated, please?” He indicated a smaller chair, drawn up before the two of them.

  Like an inquisition. Somehow she doubted now this tête-a-tête had anything to do with the holidays. Warily, she lowered herself onto the chair, gaze flickering from one unfriendly face to the other. “Good evening, Theale, Lavinia. I am just this instant returned from Charlotte’s wedding in Kent.” She made sure to let them know she’d been travelling all day long. “Thank you so much for the loan of the second carriage. It made the long journey that much more pleasant.”

  “Well I hope something pleased you, my lady, for nothing about you pleases me.” Theale’s voice cracked from the vehemence in it.

  “I beg your pardon, my lord?” Fanny remembered the servants’ conversations about Theale doing and saying strange things. Perhaps this was more of the same. “How have I displeased you?”

  “Harlot!”

  The exclamation, thrown directly at her from Theale’s distorted mouth, stabbed her like a knife. Shocked, she drew back in the chair, as though she’d been slapped. “What?”

  “Do you deny it? Lady Theale has told me about your confession to her. That you had an affair with another man while you were married to Stephen. You had a child by him and foisted his by-blow off on my brother.”

  Grasping her throat, her pulse beating wildly beneath her fingers, Fanny stared at her sister-in-law, absurdly hurt and angry at herself. The betrayal astonished her, for she’d believed her threat about Theale’s sanity should have sealed Lavinia’s lips. It could even be true. Her brother-in-law’s eyes seemed ready to pop out of his head. He reminded Fanny of no
thing so much as a big bullfrog sitting in the chair. His gaze wandered, darting to and fro, as if suspicious of something or constantly searching for some danger. Worst of all, a thin stream of drool crept out of the side of his mouth.

  Fanny narrowed her eyes and stared Lavinia down. “What I told the marchioness, I told her in confidence. I am very disappointed to find myself betrayed.”

  “I decided the family must come first, Frances. The betrayal was yours alone.” Lavinia shot a glance at Theale, then slid into the farthest corner of her chair. “I asked him if what you’d said was true, about Stephen. And the other women. You said he would know. Then he asked me why I asked about such an unfit thing for a lady’s ears, and I told him what you’d said.” The marchioness’s voice died away and she turned to stare wide-eyed at her husband. “I’d never have said such a thing, my dear, if Fanny hadn’t told me first.”

  “So you will allow your wickedness corrupt my wife?” Doddering, he rose out of the chair, fist raised in the air. “You’ll see what I can do. You’ll be sorry you ever cuckolded my poor brother.”

  “Poor brother?” Outraged at that characterization of her philandering husband, Fanny unclenched her hands, and gripped the chair, holding herself back from the devil. “Your brother was poor in nothing, save Christian charity and the ability to keep his wedding vows. Otherwise he had all the wealth he could want, a career he loved for its excitement, and a wife who wanted nothing more than for him to come home to her at the end of the day. Your brother lacked for nothing, Lord Theale, save human decency.”

  Waving a hand, Theale scoffed at her. “Merely a high-spirited boy sowing his wild oats.”

  “You call blatant affairs with women of Society, under the very nose of his wife, ‘wild oats’?” Unaware of how she’d gotten there, Fanny stood in front of Theale’s chair, her fists clamped in balls that hurt where her nails dug into her flesh, restraining herself from planting the old scoundrel a facer. “If you call having sexual congress in my bed, with a woman who was supposed to be my friend, ‘sowing wild oats’ then I say, ‘As you sow so shall you reap.’ ” Her voice bounced off the ceiling and echoed down the corridor.

  At a gasp from Lavinia, Fanny whirled on her. “No, I didn’t tell you that little piece of the story, my lady.” She stabbed an accusatory finger at Theale. “His brother violated this house, your home, by bringing that woman here.”

  “You lie.” Theale squinted at her, but his tone had no bite. She’d wondered, over the years, if her brother-in-law had been privy to the details of the affair. Too much had hinged on the family’s absence for him not to know.

  “I do not. The family had removed to Northumberland early for the Christmas season that year. Stephen was on maneuvers so we weren’t coming to you until later. I had gone to stay with my parents rather than remain alone in the house. So Stephen brought her here.”

  Tears of rage and grief trickled down her face. After all these years, the anguish of that betrayal had not diminished.

  “You cannot know that.”

  “I do know it. My husband very happily confessed to it, after I’d found him out. He seemed to delight in torturing me with the details. So do not tell me that Stephen Tarkington didn’t deserve his cuckold’s horns. I only wish he’d learned the extent of them, that Ella wasn’t his. My affair with Lord Lathbury was at least discreet—neither you, nor Lavinia, nor Stephen nor apparently anyone else in the ton knew of it until now. It would have been so easy for us to let them know. Lathbury urged me to run away with him.” She dug the dagger even deeper into Theale’s heart. “How badly would that scandal have tarnished the family reputation if I had agreed and all the dirty details had come out? You should be thanking me for my mercy. I know I would have been a happier woman had I left.”

  “Then I will make you supremely happy now, my lady.” Theale fixed her with a baleful eye. “You, and your fraudulent offspring, will leave this house immediately, never to return.”

  “What? You cannot do that.” Startled, Fanny took a step back. “My settlement specifically states—”

  “Settlement be damned.” He pounded the arms of the chair like a child in a rage, his face turning an alarming shade of red. “When you dishonored your husband you forfeited all rights to his bed and board. If you wish to contest it, I suggest you seek justice in the courts. In the meanwhile, pack your things. I’ll send them after you.”

  “You will turn me and my daughter out in the streets in the middle of the night? And just what will the ton make of that, my lord? Especially when I tell them why I am being summarily turned out?” The threat was empty. She wanted the circumstances of Ella’s birth exposed about as much as Theale did. Fortunately, he didn’t know that.

  Lavinia laid a hand on her husband’s arm and leaned toward him. She whispered something in his ear, and the color in his face ebbed a bit.

  “The marchioness has graciously suggested that you be allowed to spend a single additional night here, to put your affairs in order. Pack your trunks and your daughter’s. Make arrangements for where you will go and I will see your things sent along behind you. In the morning, Davies will take you in the small carriage and be done with you.”

  “Thank you so much, my lord. You are too kind.” Turning on her heel, Fanny stalked from the room, fuming at the man who would rather act dishonorably than admit the wrongdoing of his brother. Fine, she would shake the dust of this house from her shoes and be glad of it.

  Picking up her skirts, she raced up the stairs, her head spinning with all the preparations she must make. First, she must write to her cousin in Copsale, alerting her to her impending arrival. She wished she were confident enough to have the coachman take her directly to Hunt House, but caution stayed her from that line of action. She didn’t like to imagine that Matthew would turn her and Ella away; however, they were currently at such great odds, it might be best to simply write to him.

  Once in her room, the idea of having to pack up every possession, both hers and Ella’s, was more than daunting in her exhausted condition. If she did it quietly, perhaps she could enlist the help of one of the housemaids to help her get the trunks ready. With trembling fingers, she rang the bell. By the time the maid arrived, Fanny had just finished mending her pen.

  “You rang, my lady?” The girl, one of the many maids assigned to attend to Fanny’s needs, curtsied and looked away. So the staff had already heard of her departure.

  “Yes, Meg. Would you please have Thomas fetch my traveling trunks here? Miss Ella’s should be taken to her room as well. And then can you help pack Miss Ella’s clothing and toys?” Fanny drew the sheets of paper out of her letter box. “I must attend to some letters, but will find you shortly.”

  With a fearful glance out the door, Meg nodded, then turned and scampered off, bent on delivering her message. All the better to be able to write her letters in peace. The first one took little time to compose. Her cousin was a sweet woman whose large family kept her ever busy. She would welcome Fanny and Ella, but they dare not stay long with the family in such straitened circumstances. Setting the first letter aside to dry, Fanny drew another piece of foolscap to her. How on earth did she begin such a letter?

  She must write from her heart. Was she sorry for her behavior in Kent? Yes. Was she sorry he’d not known about Ella from the beginning? Of course. He must know these things already. Did she love him? With all her heart. Had she ever told him so? Perhaps once. Was it time for her to do so again? Absolutely. The pen flew over the paper, her hand pouring out the words her mouth could not say easily.

  Still, her most urgent message she hesitated to write. A nagging suspicion that her brother-in-law might open the letter forced her to be prudent. No telling what he might do should he find out how matters now stood with her. She’d never seen him as incensed as this evening. Not only angry at her past betrayal of Stephen, but enraged at her suggestion of the possible disgrace she could heap on the Tarkington family itself. Thank goodness she would soon be away f
rom his sphere of influence. Besides, she wanted to inform Matthew she was increasing while she could look into his eyes. Then she would know if he rejoiced in the news or whether he accepted it as mere duty.

  Carefully, she sanded then folded the sheet, fastening it with her red wax and the embellished “T” seal. As proud as she had been to first use that seal, now she longed to change it for the “L” designating Lathbury. If only Matthew would propose again, he’d not be disappointed with her answer. Pray God he followed her to Copsale to allow that last chance.

  CHAPTER 25

  The sun had just peeked over the horizon when Fanny, holding Ella firmly by the hand in the heavy, damp air, climbed into Theale’s coach the next morning. Days were now so short, the morning’s activities had been well begun before it became light enough to begin their travel. Though she’d insisted Ella eat a hearty breakfast, Fanny had only had a cup of chocolate with a piece of bread and butter. She might feel more like eating once they had boarded the stage coach and stopped at the first leg of their journey. They had packed all their necessary things into one small trunk, much more manageable on a public coach. The larger trunks would be sent to Copsale, presumably by other conveyance.

  Settling Ella on the plush seat beside her, Fanny wished for the heated bricks at her feet she’d always had on her other journeys. This morning, of course, they would not go far enough to warrant them and would certainly not have such a luxury on the stage coach. She pulled a warm blue carriage blanket around Ella, who yawned and snuggled beside her. “It will have to be a short nap, my love.”

  The child nodded and burrowed deeper into Fanny’s side.

  Slumping into the seat, Fanny attempted to relax as well. Her letters had been given to Meg for early morning posting. If she was lucky, her cousin would get a few hours’ notice of her arrival before she actually appeared on her doorstep. And Matthew would know her whereabouts even sooner, as she believed him still in Town. If he heeded her summons might he actually overtake them on the road? A happy daydream of Matthew sweeping them both into his carriage and taking them off to Hunter’s Cross ensued until she glanced out the window at the unfamiliar buildings. Surely the inn where she would get the coach would be closer to the bustling center of the city. She moved the sleeping child over to lie on the seat and stood slightly to rap on the trap. “Davies.”