by Burke, Darcy
His children. Genie couldn’t ignore the pang of longing that came with the thought of mothering more children. She couldn’t do that with Edmund. And he needed children. Or at least one child—an heir.
She couldn’t contemplate a future with Edmund. It didn’t matter that she loved him. He needed an heir, and she couldn’t give him one. That was the beginning and the end of it.
But here was a man who cared for her, with four children in need of a mother. It would be a nice life. She’d married for love once, and that was more than many people experienced.
She smiled at him. “I am so humbled by your proposal, Mr. Sterling. Would it be all right if I thought about it tonight and gave you an answer on the morrow? In the meantime, we will dine with my stepson and spend the evening together. If that’s acceptable to you.”
His shoulders dipped as he relaxed, a smile of relief breaking over his features. “More than acceptable. You are a woman of exceeding good humor and charm.”
How could she find fault with that?
Chapter 10
“You’re up early,” Cosford said as Edmund entered the dining room at Rotherham’s hunting lodge near Lancaster. “Especially given last night’s activities.” He chuckled before sipping his coffee.
Edmund filled his plate from the sideboard and joined Cosford at the table. “I didn’t imbibe as much as you—or Rotherham.”
A footman came forward and offered coffee or ale. Edmund took both.
“I don’t think anyone imbibed as much as Rotherham,” Cosford said, wincing. “He’s been in a bit of a state, hasn’t he?”
“Has he?” Edmund hadn’t noticed. Probably because he’d been in his own “state.” A state of pining for a woman he couldn’t have. And when he wasn’t pining, he vacillated between anger at the way Genie had left Blickton without saying goodbye and mourning for what he’d had—briefly—and lost.
“I suppose you haven’t been paying attention.” Cosford cut a piece of ham. “Too wrapped up in your own melancholy.”
“I am not melancholy.” Edmund thought he’d done a fair job of hiding his distraction.
Cosford swallowed his bite of ham. “You forget that the party was at my house. And that my wife misses nothing. Well, almost nothing. Also that she is Genie’s—sorry, the dowager duchess’s—cousin.”
Hell. Had Genie told Lady Cosford something? “What are you getting at, Cosford?”
Lifting a shoulder, Cosford picked up his coffee. “I know you were visited by another woman besides Lady Bradford. I wasn’t entirely sure who it was, but then one of the stableboys saw you and Genie after our ride.” He didn’t need to say what the boy had seen, and they both knew it.
Edmund scooped some eggs from his plate into his mouth and avoided looking at Cosford.
“When Genie left early,” Cosford continued, “we assumed something had broken down between you. Cecilia was quite upset.”
What had Genie told them? “I didn’t know she was leaving,” Edmund said, reaching for the ale and taking a long pull.
Cosford’s brows climbed his forehead. “You didn’t?” He angled his head. “She surprised us after breakfast that morning when she said she was going to depart. Cecilia had hoped her cousin would find a match. My wife believes her cousin isn’t happy unless she has someone to care for, and her stepson is old enough to manage without her, of course.”
Edmund didn’t know what he could say to that. He’d love for Genie to care for him—and he for her.
“She’s had too much sadness,” Cosford said, shaking his head. “But I suspect you know that.”
He did. She’d lost her daughter, her husband, and the hope for more children of her own. Edmund had heard the anguish in her voice when she’d told him of Eliza.
Edmund tried to eat, but his appetite was waning. He drank coffee instead.
“Anyway, it seems you and she did not match. But seeing you here, I wonder if you hoped you might.”
“I thought it was a possibility, but it is not.”
Cosford exhaled as he reached for a slice of toast. “It’s just as well. Sterling confided to Cecilia that he planned to propose to Genie. He was effusive in his appreciation for Cecilia bringing them together at the party.
Jealousy seared through Edmund, blistering him with a regret he’d never known. Twenty years ago, he’d seen Genie and accepted that they were not to be. She’d been the diamond of the Season, poised to marry well, and he’d been on the verge of his Grand Tour. When he’d encountered her at the house party, it seemed Fate had given him a second chance.
Until it became frankly apparent that they were at cross purposes. It was grossly unfair. The infatuation he’d felt for her twenty years ago had bloomed into full-blown love, and he was almost certain she’d at least begun to feel the same. Or maybe it had just been a stunning mutual attraction—quick to burn and just as fast to turn to ash.
There was only one way for him to know. He had to tell her exactly how he felt and what he wanted. If she didn’t feel the same, then he would at least know for certain.
And what if she loved him, but not enough to forgo children? What about his earldom?
“I have an heir.”
“What’s that?” Cosford asked, blinking.
Edmund realized he’d spoken his thoughts aloud. “The dowager duchess and I decided we didn’t suit because I need an heir.” She also wanted to be a mother again, and a widower with children could make that happen. Edmund wouldn’t share that with Cosford, however.
“You just said you have one.”
“I do indeed.” No, the boy wasn’t his offspring, and he’d have to plan for the child to be the presumptive heir. Could he accept never having a child of his own? If it meant a life with Genie, yes.
None of that, however, solved the problem of Genie’s desire for more children.
Cosford gave him a pointed look. “Sterling plans to propose soon.”
Edmund pushed back his chair and stood. Whether she would accept him or not, he had to tell Genie the truth of his feelings for her. “Then I’d best be on my way. I’m going to leave immediately and have my coach follow.” He’d brought his own horse and would use him to get to Lakemoor as quickly as possible.
Cosford leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Cecilia will be pleased. She was hoping for you over Sterling.”
“We’ll see what Genie is hoping for.” Edmund couldn’t believe what a fool he’d been. He wouldn’t lose her this time.
He prayed he wasn’t too late.
* * *
After spending a lovely evening with Peter—Mr. Sterling had insisted she call him by his first name—Genie was more torn than ever. She’d been unable to sleep until late into the night.
But then she’d awakened with a remarkable clarity: if she loved Edmund, why would she consider marrying another? Because Peter had children? Genie did too. She had a stepson—a son—she loved more than anything.
Edmund, however, did not. Would he consider a future with her knowing she couldn’t give him a child? She wouldn’t blame him if he couldn’t. Even so, she didn’t think she could live with herself if she didn’t tell him how she felt.
Which meant she had to see him. Right away. Now that she knew what she wanted, what she must do, she couldn’t wait. Unfortunately, his estate was two days away at least, if the weather cooperated.
First, however, she had to give Peter her answer to his proposal. He would be here shortly. In the meantime, she instructed her maid to pack for a trip and asked her butler to inform the stable to prepare her coach.
When Peter arrived, she greeted him in the sitting room as she’d done the day before. He kissed her hand and looked at her expectantly. “I don’t wish to press you for a decision, but I am ever hopeful.”
“I told you I would have an answer today, and I do.” She turned toward the seating area and gestured to the settee. “Shall we sit?”
She went to stand in front of her chair, and he moved to the s
ettee. He seemed to realize she wasn’t going to sit beside him, because he glanced at the settee and then her chair and frowned.
Genie sat down, and he followed, slowly sinking to the settee. She’d rehearsed what to say, but the words flew from her mind. “Mr. Sterling—Peter. I’m afraid I must refuse your wonderful proposal.”
His frown returned and deepened. “If it’s wonderful, why would you refuse it?”
Oh dear, was he going to be difficult? No, she would give him the benefit of the doubt. He would be disappointed, of course. “Because I love another.” It was the truth, and she saw no reason to lie. “It is no fault of yours, I assure you. If not for…this other person, I believe I would have accepted your proposal.”
Yes, she would have. Cecilia was right—she didn’t like being alone.
He pressed his lips together, his eyes darkening as he averted his gaze toward the window. At length, he said, “I see. I am disappointed.”
“For that, I am sorry.”
“Your letters were rather encouraging,” he said with a hint of accusation.
Damn, apparently he was going to be difficult. She wanted to be on her way!
“I thought we might suit, but I realized yesterday that I have deep feelings for someone else. I would have communicated that to you in my next letter—instead of inviting you to visit, which you did anyway.” She let her own accusation float in the air between them.
“Yes, and it was quite a journey.”
“I’m sorry you regret coming.”
“It isn’t that.” He took a breath and exhaled. Then he seemed to…pout. “I regret that you do not return my affection.”
Affection? Still no mention of love. Genie was incredibly relieved she hadn’t accepted his proposal. She acknowledged it was foolish to think she could marry twice for love, but she didn’t think she could wed for any other reason. She thought of what Lady Clinton had said about her two different marriages—one for love and one for convenience—and knew she couldn’t do that.
“You deserve someone who does.” Genie rose, eager to end the visit. She didn’t see any reason to prolong things.
He slowly got to his feet. “Well, I am shocked by your answer.” He narrowed one eye at her. “Are you certain?”
“I am.”
“What if this fellow doesn’t love you in return? My offer would still remain.”
Oh, he was really being difficult! “That is most kind of you, but I won’t change my mind,” she said firmly. “I do appreciate you coming all this way, and I’m sorry things aren’t different.” She cringed inwardly because she wasn’t. She had been earlier, but now, she was quite ready to see Mr. Sterling’s back as he left.
He hesitated a moment, then finally said, “Good day, Your Grace.”
“Have a safe journey, Mr. Sterling.” Genie watched as he turned and departed the sitting room.
Not wanting to waste a moment, Genie dashed from the room. She would leave as soon as possible. Now that she knew what she wanted, she was anxious to pursue her heart’s desire.
Hopefully, Edmund felt the same, but she resolved to understand if the obstacles between them were too great. She prayed they were not—and that she hadn’t completely botched things at Blickton. It was entirely possible she had. For that, she had no one to blame but herself.
* * *
A groom ran to meet Edmund as he rode to the front of the Duke of Kendal’s magnificent manor house on his estate, Lakemoor. The afternoon sun streaming through the clouds bathed the brown stone in mottled but warm light. He’d been grateful for the fair weather, which had made for a speedy trip, particularly since he’d cut across fields the last several miles.
“Please take good care of him,” Edmund said to the groom. “We’ve ridden hard.” He stroked his horse’s nose and murmured words of appreciation and affection.
The lad nodded. “I will, sir.”
Edmund turned and strode to the door, which the butler held open. “The Earl of Satterfield to see the Duke,” Edmund said as he removed his hat and gloves.
The butler took his accessories. “I don’t believe he is expecting you, my lord.”
“He was not. Nevertheless, I am here.”
“Of course. Come with me.” The butler led Edmund to a large, well-appointed room. “If you’ll just wait here, I’ll inform His Grace you have arrived.”
Anticipation curled through Edmund. Anxiety had driven him to ride hard and fast, and now that he was here, he was keen to see Genie, but also apprehensive. She might still refuse him.
He prowled the room, and his gaze fell on the painting above the mantel. His breath halted, as did his feet. Captured in her youth, Genie stared back at him, a warm smile curving her lush mouth. But she wasn’t alone. Beside her, and just a bit behind, stood her husband. His gaze was on her—as it should be. The artist had perfectly captured the love in his eyes.
How could Edmund compete with that?
“Welcome, Lord Satterfield.”
Edmund turned from the beautiful portrait and saw the young duke striding into the room. “Thank you for seeing me.” They’d met before, of course. Edmund had specifically introduced himself when Kendal had taken his father’s seat in the Lords. He’d offered his assistance and guidance if Kendal ever needed it. Edmund had wanted to provide support in the way Kendal’s father had done for him.
And now Edmund was stealing his former mentor’s wife. That was absurd. He couldn’t steal her, not from a dead man. He glanced back at the painting and silently said, I love her. I will take care of her. If she’ll have me.
There was, of course, no response, just a man staring at his beloved for all time.
“How can I be of service?” Kendal asked. “Shall we sit? Would you care for refreshment? I don’t know how far you’ve come, but my butler said you rode up on a horse that looked as if it had seen some miles.”
“Indeed. I came from near Lancaster. I wanted to arrive before dark.”
Kendal smiled. “You’ve done that with time to spare.” He took one of the chairs and gestured for Edmund to sit.
But Edmund didn’t want to. He wanted to see Genie. The only reason he hadn’t gone straight to the dower house was because he didn’t know precisely where it was. Also, and mostly, so he could speak with Kendal before he saw her.
“Forgive me if I don’t sit. I am, perhaps embarrassingly, in a bit of a rush. I am here to see the Dowager Duchess.”
“Oh?” Kendal tipped his head back to look up at Edmund. “You know my stepmother?”
“Yes. We were most recently together at Blickton.”
“The matchmaking house party.” His lips quivered as if he were trying not to laugh. “Tell me, were you aware of its purpose before you went?”
“I was, yes.”
“So you went hoping to find a wife?” He narrowed his eyes briefly. “Or perhaps something else?”
“I went with the intention of finding a wife. I am forty and without an heir.”
“Past time, then.” Kendal nodded. “I suppose I shall come to the same crossroads. I shall be happy to wait another sixteen years.”
“Wait however long you must, but take my advice—don’t let the one you want get away.”
“Spoken like a man who’s made that mistake,” Kendal said softly. He stood. “Why are you here to see my stepmother?”
“To propose marriage. It is my fervent hope she will accept. I wanted to speak with you—to obtain your support and blessing if you are inclined to give it. Also to tell you it would be a privilege to count you among my family. You are the most important person in Genie’s life, so I would hope that we could establish a relationship. I don’t seek to be your father, of course. But I would gladly occupy whatever role you deem acceptable.”
Kendal opened his mouth, then closed it again. His brow furrowed. Then he looked toward the painting of his father and Genie. “I miss him very much. I wasn’t a very good son the last few years before he died. I disappointed him.”
“I don’t think so. You frustrated him—at least that was my impression. But he was always exceedingly proud of you.”
Kendal snapped his attention back to Edmund. “You knew him well?”
Edmund lifted a shoulder. “Well enough. We worked on committees together in the Lords and occasionally drank together at the club. As I told you when you first took his seat, he guided me when I entered the Lords. He was a good man.”
“He was indeed,” Kendal said quietly. “As you seem to be. Does my stepmother return your affection? I assume you hold her in high esteem, but you didn’t say.”
“I love her beyond words.” Edmund smiled. “The opportunity to make her my wife is not something I will let slip away—if she’ll have me.”
“Ironically, you are not the first gentleman to propose marriage to her today. No, not today, I suppose Sterling actually proposed yesterday.”
Edmund’s heart stopped for a moment. “Sterling is here?”
“Was. He left earlier, as did my stepmother.”
Oh God, he was too late. A searing pain tore through him, stealing his breath. He turned his gaze toward the windows but saw nothing.
“I should clarify,” Kendal said. “She turned Sterling down, and he left. She departed a short while after in order to pursue the man she prefers.”
Edmund blinked. He looked back to Kendal. “And who is that?”
“She didn’t say, and I didn’t press her. She did, however, tell me she was going to Staffordshire. That is where your seat is located, is it not?”
“Yes, but I’m not there.” It was a ridiculous thing to say, but all he could manage. She’d turned Sterling, with his four children, down! And it seemed she was on her way to him—the man she preferred. There was only one thing to be done, tired as he was. No, not tired. He was suddenly more energized than he’d ever been in his life. “When did she leave?”
“A few hours ago. You could make up the time on horseback, probably, but it will be dark before you catch her. My guess is she will make it to Lancaster for the night.”