After a moment, Elizabeth pushed away from the father she wasn’t even allowed to claim and turned to Emily. “I made this for you.”
She handed Emily a piece of paper with multi-coloured chicken scratches all over it.
“Very beautiful,” Emily said with a smile.
Elizabeth climbed into her lap, all elbows and heels. Emily gasped in pain as several soft spots were abused. Finally, she was able to settle the child. She looked up at Peter and smiled.
His eyes softened and he grinned. “She likes you.”
“I like her, too,” Emily replied, running a straightening hand over the rumpled curls.
There was one of those pauses where tension seemed to build from nowhere.
“Emily, what shall you do now?” His look changed—became all fiery, and so intense it seemed to burn into her.
She had to pause to collect her thoughts. “I have my job here. I plan to take art instruction.”
“What if I paid court to you, Emily? Would you receive me?”
Shock paralysed her. Even though Alex had warned her, she’d never really expected this. Well, the answer must be no, for many reasons, but the greatest of them squirmed in her lap.
“Surely you must have expected this,” he said, as if he’d read her mind.
“No,” she admitted artlessly.
“I favour you very much; in fact, I have become quite infatuated with you. I am sure it could grow to be more.” He touched his fingertip to Elizabeth’s nose, a fond, casual gesture that belied the seriousness in his sky-blue eyes. “And you could learn to feel affection for me.”
She couldn’t possibly respond.
Peter turned his attention to Elizabeth. “Betsy, why don’t you go and fetch us some of those ginger biscuits from the kitchen?”
Elizabeth’s eyes went huge and she sat straight up in Emily’s lap. “Ginger biscuits!” the child lisped.
Peter grinned and smoothed her silver-gilt curls. “Yes, I saw her putting them in the oven earlier but you better hurry. Cato might eat them all.”
“Nooo!” Elizabeth cried, jettisoning herself from Emily’s lap.
Peter laughed as he watched her hurry to the door and leave. Then he turned back to Emily and his expression sobered.“You could accept Elizabeth into our home?” Beneath the lightness of his tone, uncertainty resonated. “That is, if we were ever to be wed.”
She nodded, her mind numb with the import of that. He wanted to claim his child? Yes, he’d just said so. In fact, he’d said doing so hinged on her accepting his proposal. Good Lord. The weight of it threatened to crush her. She liked him very much. She had enjoyed being sexual with him. But she wasn’t sure she could ever love him. Not like a wife must. Completely with devotion. Forever.
“I must be honest with you. Alice McConnell was Betsy’s mother.” He took a deep breath. .
“Oh,” she replied, unable to process anything further.
“I have other children from my first marriage. A son and two daughters. They are older. They won’t be a trouble to you.”
An almost instant family, to provide this charming, lovely child a connection to her real father and her half-siblings. A place to truly belong. It would be a priceless sacrifice for Emily to make. Was all-consuming love so important? Could she possibly be so self-sacrificing for the sake of a child? She felt like ballast had been tied about her neck. “I must have time to think on this… It is just… I am sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for. Of course you must have time. I’ll be going home to New York after the vote on the Naval Bill is over. But I could return if you wish. We can correspond in the meantime. We can learn all about each other through our letters.”
“Yes, I would like that.” She wasn’t sure if she would or not but it seemed like the thing to say.
* * * *
“I don’t blame you for giving Alex the bag.”
Emily focused on sipping her hot chocolate. Another of Alex’s cousins, Nancy had come to visit her and they were sitting in Mrs Hazelwood’s kitchen. Raven-haired like Rachel, Nancy was tall and thin as a reed. She had taken time to warm to Emily but now they were friendly. Yet Emily wished she would let the subject of Alex drop.
She turned to Nancy. “I didn’t know you were aware of our engagement.”
“I wasn’t for certain until this moment.” Nancy grinned and pushed her spectacles back up her long, thin nose.
Emily was mortified at her slip. “Please don’t tell anyone else. It is bad enough to have things end like this.”
“Oh, listen, why do you think I am not married? Gentlemen are prone to sin and I won’t have it in my life. I won’t have some man telling me how I must live while he does whatever he pleases.” Nancy raised her cup to her lips and took a drink then set it down. “Mama is all smiles and pretend blindness. We must not admit that which is right under our noses.”
“How can she possibly deny it?” Emily asked.
Nancy shrugged. “That which one denies is not true. Look at how Cornelia acts with Peter’s Betsy. Yes, insane, I know, but there you are.” Then Nancy smiled and slapped the table smartly. “We shall have to go shopping for you.”
“Shopping for me?”
“Yes, when this Naval Bill finally passes, James will be sure to throw a lavish ball. You will need a new ball gown. Something utterly French and fashionable. You have just the figure for the new styles.”
“I don’t think James will want to invite me.”
“He won’t have a choice. Mama will not see you shunned, never fear.” Nancy’s face grew a little sad. “Poor Mama, she had begun to have such hopes for you and Alex.”
“I didn’t think she approved of me.”
“She despairs of ever seeing Alex or James wed. Believe me, she would have been over the moon if you had wed and given him children. She knows I am a lost cause and she wishes to play the good grandmother or even grand-aunt before she dies.”
So, Alex’s family might have come to accept her. It made the loss seem all the worse. But there was no help for it.
* * * *
A week later Emily watched as Elizabeth mimicked the steps to a minuet, her little body moving with excellent timing and grace. They were all gathered in the parlour after supper.
Peter clapped his hands. “Oh, what a pretty little opera dancer.”
Pure horror flashed briefly over Cornelia Hazelwood’s face. She quickly relaxed her features into a pleasant expression. “Oh, heaven forbid a child of this house should come to such a scandalous end.” The lavish lace and pink ribbons on her white cap flopped as she shook her head and smiled. She looked up and caught Emily’s eye. “Oh, Miss Eliot, please put the child to bed.”
Emily came and took Elizabeth’s hand and began to lead her from the group.
“Ha, will you look at that?”
Emily paused and turned back. “Pardon me, Mrs Hazelwood?”
Mrs Hazelwood waved her off and turned to Peter. “The child never gives Emily any fuss. She is a little terror with everyone else. I’ve lost more maids than I care to count over that child and her temperament.”
“That’s because Emily is very sweet,” Peter said.
His eyes implored hers and she knew exactly what he was thinking. Have you considered my suit and what is your answer?
The pressure was too much and she had to look away. If she was a good person—no, a selfless person—she would accept him. But, though she liked him and knew she could respond to him carnally, she also knew she’d never, ever be able to love him. Not like she loved Alex. The way she would always love Alex. Surely a woman should not marry one man while bearing such an ardent love for his cousin?
She loved Alex and yet their differences had torn them apart. Was it better to wed a man one liked and did not love?
She just didn’t know. Heavy-hearted, she led Elizabeth out of the parlour.
* * * *
“I want the black and white one and the stripy one.”
“
What?” Emily asked as she tucked Elizabeth into her cot in the attic chamber.
“The kittens at Alex’s house.”
Emily pulled the coverlet up. “How do you know about kittens at Mr Dalton’s house?”
“Peter took me there today. He said I might pick two but I couldn’t decide which two to pick. There were six.” Tired and sleepy-eyed, the little girl lisped.
“Well, we can go tomorrow and—”
Elizabeth jolted to a sitting position and her two small, surprisingly warm hands gripped Emily’s. “No, no, no, they may all be gone by then.” Elizabeth’s voice rose in panic.
Emily sighed. “I can go and see . You must promise me you won’t throw a tantrum later if it turns out that the kittens are already taken.”
Elizabeth regarded her with solemn eyes, strangely mature. “I’ll never get angry with you, Emmy.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I know you’re not like the others. You’ll always do what you say.”
With that last proclamation weighing heavily upon her, Emily eased her hands from Elizabeth’s, stood then left the nursery to find Peter. “Did you tell Elizabeth that she might have a kitten—two kittens?”
“Yes, but the greedy little hoyden couldn’t make up her mind.” He grinned and his sky-blue eyes warmed. “Betsy is too much like me, I fear it greatly. She will need a firm hand, always.”
“She is in a fret because she fears someone else will come and take the two she wants before you can take her back over. She was quite heartbroken at the thought.”
His grin faded. “Oh dear.”
“Yes, I am afraid I allowed her to wheedle a promise from me that I would go there tonight and fetch the two she wants.”
“That was generous of you—especially since I imagine you don’t want to go there. Don’t worry, I shall go.”
But, if she purposely stayed away, wouldn’t she be handing a form of control over to Alex? A control he no longer had a right to. “If I am truly to put him from my life, I must be able to face him without fearing what he might do or say. I shouldn’t allow my actions to be affected by him.”
He nodded. “Then let me escort you.”
“You are too kind.”
“Not at all, my dear.”
His eyes flickered over her in a way that reminded her that this man wanted her. Not just in the way of a man seeking to warm his bed but he wanted her for a wife, as a mother for his child. A child she was beginning to care for. Deeply.
But what about the man? She studied his profile, his handsome, almost pretty features, his silver-gilt hair and his lean yet well-muscled frame. Her artist’s eye told her he was a fine specimen. He would give her beautiful children.
He was not as wealthy as Alex. Not anywhere near. But his family was high in society and he made a very decent living as an attorney. Any woman would be proud to be his wife.
Was pride enough?
Oh, if she were a truly good person the decision would already be made. She would marry him if for no other reason than Elizabeth’s sake.
Peter held her pelisse for her to slip her arms in. She looked over her shoulder to smile her thanks and the soft fur tickled her cheek.
I knew the dark fur would complement you.
Alex’s words echoed, unwelcome in her head, as she slid her arms into the sleeves. Peter came round and fastened the frogs as if she were incapable of it herself. He was most solicitous; he always was when he was with her. Yet Alex said this man would neglect her in time. That he had often left his wife alone and spent his time travelling and womanising. That he scattered his children about without care.
She remembered Peter’s easy, smooth way during their first and only carnal encounter. Yes, the womanising part was easy to imagine. But, then again, Alex had been just as familiar with women and sex, yet she’d been willing to take a chance on his fidelity.
However, she loved him.
Peter held the door open for her. She walked out into the cold, cornflower-blue evening. He caught up to her and took her gloved hand in his. His hands were not as large as Alex’s but his grip was strong. They walked along, their shoes clicking on the sidewalk and the street lanterns lighting the way.
“You think that Elizabeth is a product of lustful recklessness?”
The question startled her and she stopped and looked at him. “I think it’s not my affair.”
“I want you to know it’s not typical of me. I don’t have others aside from her and my legitimate children. I have made sure of it. I was ill. Feverish, out of my senses. I did not take care to protect Elizabeth’s mother against a pregnancy.”
“But…” She bit her tongue before she blurted Alex’s accusation.
Peter smiled wryly. “Ah, yes, Alex has been telling tales out of school. Once one makes a mistake, everyone assumes the worst. I have a few…uh, wards. When one takes a mistress, the relationship with her existing children can become complex. They are not my blood children but I pay to support them in comfort. It has never suited my mind to explain myself. Maybe it feels disloyal and unloving to deny them in that way.”
She wasn’t convinced by any means. “Yet you were not a constant husband.”
“No, I was not. My wife…” He closed his eyes and shook his head and a smile spread over his sensual, well-shaped mouth. A mouth that could kiss like heaven. “Oh, my wife was not like you.”
He was, of course, alluding to the time he had spent with her in Alex’s study. Hadn’t her own thoughts drifted there? But to speak of it so openly…and what did he mean that his wife was not like her? Not a harlot like her? A nymph? A houri? Emily’s heart began to beat harder as her blood heated with indignation. “Indeed?”
She tried to pull her hand away but he squeezed it harder and held it. “Now just wait, hear me out—”
“I don’t care to hear more,” she said loudly and pulled harder against his hold. “Let me loose, damn you.”
They had passed under a street lamp just as an older couple did. The lady stared at her and compressed her lips. The couple hurried on a little faster.
“Before you have the watch on me, just hush and listen,” Peter said, humour entering his voice. He released her hand. “I mean to say my wife was a spoilt little princess. A beautiful, cold, blue-blooded young woman. She couldn’t help it. She was raised to believe she was owed everything life could hold. I didn’t mind giving her the world but the marriage bed…well, now, that startled her. It was too earthy for someone who had been raised with her head in the clouds. Yet she dutifully let me sire our children and, for that, once it was done, I left her in peace. There was no fire between us.” He held his hands out and shrugged. “I grew…bored.”
“All gentlemen seem to,” she said in wary tones.
He laughed softly, his gaze warming. “I couldn’t ever see myself growing bored with you.”
She didn’t feel convinced. “But you will want to travel. You won’t want to—”
“I had intended to travel, yes, but I had also hoped you would accompany me.”
“I shall have confinements.”
He frowned. “You are young and healthy. Your confinements will be short.”
“What if they aren’t?”
“Then I shall stay by your side.” He smiled at her then offered his arm. “Shall we continue? Someone may come and take the kittens and I’d hate to face Betsy’s temper. Have you ever seen it in full force?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, it’s a fearsome sight to behold, believe me.”
She gave him a weak smile and placed her hand into the crook of his arm. They began walking again.
The subject of children in their theoretical marriage seemed closed. An uneasy suspicion settled into her stomach that this kind gentleman’s solicitous nature might be a sign of a deeper, controlling nature. He might be no different from Alex in that. A suffocating sensation centred in her throat. She’d no wish to return to living under someone else’s thumb.<
br />
“But, honestly,” his breath blew a plume in the yellow street lantern’s light, “I’d prefer to wait a few years before seeing you so burdened.”
“Oh,” she replied, not certain how to feel about that.
While engaged to Alex, she’d expected they would start their family as soon as possible. Alex’s eagerness for children had equalled, perhaps surpassed, her own. It had never occurred to her that a husband would wilfully deny a wife children. But they certainly had the ability, the control over such matters. And Peter had already had his share of fatherhood. If he were truly controlling, he might deny Emily her own children indefinitely. Forever.
“My sister means well but I don’t want my child growing up under her strict sense of propriety. She’s going to break my wild girl. Betsy is so intelligent, so clever. More so than even my son was at her age. Already I can see it, no matter how much it chagrins me. I would really like to send her to school in England—or, better yet, France, if things settle down there. With a little polish, her beauty should bring her an excellent marriage. And her intelligence will allow her to have the upper hand. Her life should be clover.”
Emily’s heart panged. “You would send her so far away?”
“When she is older. It will be for her own good.”
“You sound so settled on it.”
He paused on the sidewalk and turned to her. “Well, that’s because I am, Emily. I want the best for her.”
Coldness settled into her belly. How could any education, no matter how grand, be better for a young girl than being at home with her family? No, Emily couldn’t marry this man any more than she could have married Alex with his desire to turn away from and deny the darker side of life. Grandmother had been correct about gentlemen. They were creatures with their own narrow view of life and sought to enforce that view on the ones under their care. She had higher standards for the man who would father her children. If she never found one to match those standards—well, then, she’d just have to remain unwed. She had her art and now she had her commitment to writing the stories of slaves and former slaves. She would show the world the ugly face of slavery, then people would have to do something.
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