“Cam, I need to talk to you about the child Millicent was carrying.”
His brother raised his hand again.
“It wasn’t mine. It didn’t take long for me to realize Millicent had a lover before me and tricked me into marriage.”
“She told me as much herself. Did you love her?”
Cameron didn’t speak for a few moments.
“I convinced myself I cared for her. I don’t think I ever really knew her.”
He nodded. “You married her to make mother happy.”
“Yes. I believed a daughter and grandchild could help our mother with the pain of losing father. I would never have subjected our family to the scandal of a divorce and had decided to raise the child as my own.”
There followed another companionable silence.
He asked the question he’d wondered about from the moment he’d seen Millicent’s lifeless body in the pit at the theatre. “What will you do now?”
“I imagine I’ll have to find another wife,” Cameron replied with a shrug. “Beget an heir and all that nonsense. Not sure I can find a woman who could stomach looking at my calf.”
“Women of the ton are more worried about a title than a leg.”
His brother chuckled. “That is exactly what Miss Emma Hart said to me.”
“Emma Hart?”
“Our mother enlisted the young woman’s help to keep an eye on me. Although I would never admit it to mother, Miss Hart’s constant nagging did help me fight my addiction.”
“Have I met the young lady?”
“I don’t think so,” Cameron replied.
He didn’t say anything further about the woman and Devlyn wouldn’t pry. Miss Hart was an unmarried young woman and his brother had been a married man. Any relationship between the pair would have been a social one.
“I’m in love.” Where the words came from, he would never know.
Cameron looked at him with a sly grin before he asked, “Is she English?”
“You sound like our mother. I met Anna the day I returned to England. She is a countess and a widow.”
“Is there an impediment to the relationship?” his brother asked with uncanny perception.
“She wants a child,” he replied with a grimace.
He refilled his and Cameron’s glasses. Both men sipped their brandy.
“Are you sure you love her?” Cameron asked.
“Remember when father told us we would know love when we found it? I thought the notion silly at the time. Now I understand what he was trying to tell us.”
“What are you going to do?” Cameron asked.
“I can see no future without her as my wife.”
“Does she love you?”
He hesitated. “She wants me.”
“Aha,” Cam said with a cheeky grin. “You’ve tasted the forbidden fruit.”
He remained silent although his cravat suddenly felt a bit tight around his neck.
“Take heart, dear brother. If a woman still wants you after the deed is done, she’s already half in love with you.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
A large black wreath hung on the front door of The Grange. Drapes along the front of the house were drawn. The butler she remembered from her last visit to the house answered Anna’s knock dressed in black. He escorted her to the parlor and informed her the dowager would be down shortly.
“Good afternoon, my dear,” the older woman said to her visitor when she entered the small room. “How nice to see you again; I took the liberty of ringing for tea.”
Anna rose from her seat. “I hope I’m not intruding on your grief.”
“Not at all,” the dowager replied with a weary smile. “It is very good of you to visit.”
“I am very sorry for your loss.”
Lady Cameron nodded in acknowledgement.
A little dog sat near the dowager’s feet and wiggled and huffed for Anna’s attention.
“Who is this?” She bent down to coax the dog forward. The dog approached her and sniffed her hand before he licked it.
“Meet Dashy.”
She patted the dog and he wriggled so much she couldn’t help but laugh. “He is a lovely dog."
“And very spoiled,” the dowager replied. “He will try to steal your biscuits if you don’t keep an eye on him.”
Lady Cameron called Dashy to her side. Both women were seated, and a maid entered with a tea tray.
“May I pour?” she asked Devlyn’s mother.
“Thank you, Lady Stafford.”
Once the maid departed, Anna poured tea and added sugar to her own cup. She briefly studied the woman seated across from her. The dowager appeared older and frailer than she remembered. Her black gown added to the picture of fragility.
“Can I be of any assistance to you, Lady Cameron?”
“Your desire to visit is a great kindness to me, Lady Stafford.”
“Would it be very improper of me to ask you to call me Anna?”
“Anna.” The older woman’s use of her Christian name brought a lump to her throat. She felt honored to have Devlyn’s mother address her in such a familiar fashion, as if they were friends. “You must call me Caroline.”
She took a deep breath.
“Anna?”
“I came to comfort you.” She swallowed.
“Of course you did,” the other woman replied.
Anna remained silent, unsure of what to say next. She added another lump of sugar to her tea and stirred the fragrant brew, thankful to have something to do with her hands.
The dowager shook her head. “It is an awful thing to say of the dead, but Millicent wasn’t a kind person. She never cared for my son Cameron.”
Anna nodded her understanding.
“My husband wasn’t a nice man. It was almost a relief when he died.” She paused, appalled at the words she’d spoken. “I apologize if I have distressed you further.”
“I am sorry your husband wasn’t kind to you.”
A tear slipped down her check before she could stop it. What a ninny she was. “I am so sorry, Caroline. I don’t know what is wrong with me today.”
“Do not apologize for having emotions, Anna. I am hardly the person to chastise someone for displaying an excess of sentiment.”
She couldn’t imagine the woman seated across from her would ever behave in an uncontrolled manner.
“I see you do not believe me.” The dowager laughed. “Ask my sons. I have been known to display a wicked temper. Although in the early days of my marriage I was a jealous woman and kept my feelings to myself.”
“Your son told me your marriage was a love match.”
The other woman nodded. “Yes, it was. I was a young, immature girl suddenly married to her own prince. I couldn’t believe my luck, so I looked for problems where none existed.”
“Did your marriage suffer?” she asked softly.
“Yes. Until the night I woke up and found my husband had again left our marriage bed. I slipped downstairs and heard noises in the kitchen. When I entered the room, I found my husband seated at a table with a plate full of ginger biscuits in front of him.”
Caroline paused. Anna could see the memories cross the other woman’s face.
“The only other person nearby was a scullery maid carrying an armful of dishes. My sudden appearance scared the poor girl and she dropped the dishes. What a mess! My husband looked up from his plate of biscuits and laughed. Can you believe that he laughed?”
She kept her expression neutral. Now might not be the right time to respond to the humor of the story.
“I yelled at him and said something about him being the one to blame for the mess and he told me it was about time I showed some emotion. I picked up a piece of crockery from a counter and smashed it on the floor.”
“What did he do?”
“He picked up his plate from the table and threw it on the floor, biscuits and all.” The dowager paused again to give a huge smile. “Thank goodness the family plate
was stored in a sideboard as we continued to throw dishes on the floor until nearly every piece of crockery in the kitchen was broken.”
She sensed it was safe for her to laugh and she did. “What happened then?”
“My husband told the poor scullery maid to go to bed. He said he would clean up the mess. Once the maid left the kitchen he picked me up in his arms and carried me back to our bed.”
She hoped the narrative of the evening’s events would stop at the bedchamber door.
“We made a pact that night. I would tell him what I was feeling, and he could eat all the ginger biscuits he liked.”
“I was taught not to show strong emotion and most importantly not to show my emotions in front of men,” she replied.
Caroline sniffed. “Young women are taught such things by the same people who can’t conceive of someone marrying for love. I discovered that showing my emotions to my family, within reason of course, only strengthened our bond.”
Anna didn’t know how to reply. What the other woman said made sense. It simply wasn’t how she’d lived her life. Perhaps she wasn’t too old to change.
“There is no greater joy in this world than to find your partner for life. Do you believe in love, Anna?”
“I did when I was a child,” she replied. “Now I’m not sure.”
“Devlyn is sure,” the dowager said cryptically, a secret smile settling on her lips.
“Is he?” She had seen not only sorrow, but happiness in the other woman’s eyes when she spoke of her deceased husband. “Is love enough?”
The ticking of a mantle clock and the noise of a coach rumbling by on the cobbled street outside could be heard in the room. The dowager’s words, when they came, were spoken so softly she wasn’t sure if she’d dreamed them.
“Enough? What else is there?”
* * * * *
Devlyn found it difficult to suppress a chuckle at the sight of his brother arguing with his estate manager while the big orange barn cat rubbed against Cameron’s legs.
“Would you not prefer to ride in the carriage, my lord?” the estate manager asked Cameron a third time.
Cameron frowned. “Mr. Jenkins, I prefer to ride to London on horseback.”
Devlyn agreed with the estate manager. The last thing Cameron’s battered calf needed was a six-hour ride on horseback. The horses he and Wiggins had ridden from London were already tethered to the back of the carriage. He could think of only one way he might convince his brother to ride in the coach.
“I will ride in the carriage,” he said to Cameron. “Your cook’s rich food has left me in sore need of a nap.”
Cameron didn’t look taken in for a moment by his brother’s weak excuse. “All right, the carriage it is. Bloody surrounded by nursemaids I am.”
“Is your mangy cat accompanying us, by chance?” he asked with a grin.
“No, he isn’t.” Cameron chuckled. “Tom is a country cat and besides, he and Dashy don’t get along.”
Wiggins took a seat up top with the coachman. Cameron’s traveling carriage was nicely appointed. Devlyn sank into the lush seat.
He sighed in contentment. “This is far more comfortable than the back of a horse.”
“You may cease your campaign. I am in the coach.”
“You’re rather grumpier than I remember.”
“With good reason,” his brother replied. “And if you say you’re sorry one more time I will throttle you.”
“Good thing the coach is already moving. You’d never catch me on foot.”
He was afraid he’d gone too far teasing his brother until he heard a strange noise from Cam’s throat.
“Are you trying not to laugh?” he asked.
Losing the battle to contain his mirth, Cameron erupted into loud guffaws. He laughed until there were tears on his cheeks.
“Dev, I’ve missed you,” his brother said while he wiped away the moisture on his face with a gloved hand.
“And I have missed you, brother.”
“We’re a sorry pair. Good thing our mother loves us.”
“She’s been very concerned about you.” He sobered, remembering his mother alone in the townhouse, probably worrying about both of her sons.
Cameron sighed. “It is a terrible thing to say, but I feel as if a horrible dream is over. I feel free.”
He could only nod. Both he and the dowager had agreed the truth about Millicent’s accident would be of no help to Cameron.
They shared a companionable silence for a few minutes. The day was clear. The coach would make good time on the dry roads.
“You never told me how you met your countess.”
“Purely by chance at an inn,” he replied.
He felt no need to explain how Anna had mistaken him for a cicisbeo. To his relief, Cameron looked satisfied with his answer.
“I did stop in to see our solicitors when I returned to England,” he said, deftly changing the subject.
“I’d almost forgotten about the inheritance you received from our aunt. While in town I will ensure I find a moment to visit Mr. Dudley myself.”
“I’m considering letting a house in London and going to work for the Home Office.” Now he’d articulated his plan for the future aloud, the path forward looked clear.
“Like our mother, you were always happiest in town.”
He nodded. “And like father, you always preferred the country.”
“Isn’t it remarkable,” Cameron said, “how two people with very different needs managed to be so happy together?”
He laughed softly. “Now who is starting a campaign?”
* * * * *
Despite the somber reason for her visit to see Lady Cameron the previous day, Anna had enjoyed the call. Later that afternoon she spent a few hours with Andrew in the back garden at Stafford House where they shared a meal and played with the cat. Cecily and Andrew were headed to Norfolk on the morrow. When Lady Pickerel came to retrieve her son, Anna wished mother and son well.
Anna ordered an extravagant meal for dinner that evening and looked forward to a quiet night at home with her brother-in-law. She received a letter from her aunts in which the two women enthusiastically invited their niece for a visit. During her penning of a reply, Mary informed Anna of Lord Stafford’s arrival home. The master of the house had retired to wash off the dust of the road. It was time for Anna to dress for dinner.
“Neil!”
She entered the drawing room not quite an hour later to find her brother-in-law already there. He stood next to the fireplace. One hand rested elegantly on the mantle, the other in his trouser pocket. She suppressed a smile at his copying a popular pose of the current crop of young bucks.
“Anna, you look even lovelier than when I left London.” Her brother-in-law’s words were accompanied by a probing look. He belied his relaxed demeanor when he stepped forward to grasp her hands in his. “I left the estate a few days early because I’ve been worried about you.”
“Worried about me?” she replied, confused. Surely Neil knew nothing about Michael Bradley.
“I should have discussed the matter with you before I left for Yorkshire.” He released her hands and stepped back to run a hand through his hair. “Actually, I should have discussed it with you weeks ago. My pretending there isn’t a problem won’t make it go away. Anna, I have been concerned about your habit of drinking in the evenings.”
Neil knew her secret. She no longer felt ashamed.
“How long have you known?”
“After my brother died, I thought you stayed in your room when I was home because you wanted me to feel like I didn’t have to forgo the entertainments of London when I was on school holiday. Now that I’ve left Oxford and spent some time perusing the household accounts, I noticed a large expenditure every week on wine. Curious as we don’t entertain.”
She began to speak but Neil interrupted her.
“I’m not sure how to help you, Anna. You can’t go on living like this. You rarely go outside, and
you hardly eat.”
“I have stopped drinking all alcohol. I feel stronger every day I resist the temptation.”
“Anna…” Neil looked unconvinced.
“Believe me, Neil. I don’t want to live that way any longer. I have gained back some weight and I go for walks every day.”
“You do look healthier than when I left London. There is more color in your face.” Neil’s gaze strayed to the low cabinet against the wall upon which rested several empty decanters. “I wondered at the absence of spirits in the house.”
“I realize I can’t avoid the presence of alcohol forever. Forgive my disposing of the liquor in your house.”
The butler looked in to announce dinner. Neil offered her his arm. “There is nothing to forgive, Anna. Unless we entertain, I see no need for spirits to be about our house.”
Earlier in the day Mary informed her cook had disposed of all the liquor stores in the kitchens. At Anna’s request, dinner would be accompanied by lemonade and water. Once they were seated, Neil took a sip of lemonade. He couldn’t hide his slight grimace and reached for the goblet of water also at his place.
“I would rather not share with you the primary reason I began to drink a large amount in the evening,” she said as the first course was served. “A woman of the ton has all manner of restrictions placed upon her. Those restrictions increase when in mourning. I continued to drink out of habit, to relieve the sheer boredom of my life.”
“What changed?”
“I changed. Instead of merely reacting to events in my life I am determined to control my life.”
Neil nodded. “What happens now?”
“A husband and family,” she replied.
“My brother didn’t put you off the notion?” he asked.
She answered his question with one of her own. “You knew Danforth was less than an ideal husband?”
“When I met you before the wedding you were happy.” He shrugged. “Soon after your marriage began you weren’t happy anymore. I’m not quite the simpleton people take me for.”
“I don’t think you’re a simpleton.”
“You treat me like one,” he replied. There was no resentment in his voice, merely a calm acceptance of the fact.
A Lady's Addiction (Honor Prevails Book 1) Page 23