Having attended Parliament many times but only in the visitor’s gallery, Simon had often watched his father conduct the business of the nation. This would be his first time taking the Lindsey seat.
“When our queen opens the proceedings, I assure you, I’ll be there,” he promised. “However, I doubt they’ll push for a vote immediately. I’m sure a majority aren’t in Town yet.”
“True enough, but Ashley will try to use it to his advantage. He’s spent the better part of Christmas and the past month visiting every member of the House he can. He would as soon have a vote tomorrow when he’s nearly certain of a win.”’
Cam was at the door when it suddenly opened and Maggie stepped into the room.
“Oh,” she stopped in her tracks at seeing Lord Cambrey in her path. Her cheeks blushed a pretty rose color.
“Miss Margaret,” Cam said at once with a shallow bow.
“Lord Cambrey,” she returned with a deeper curtsy. “Have you just arrived? Are you joining us for breakfast?”
“No, my lady, I was on my way out.”
“Very well,” Maggie said, and strode past him to the sideboard to help herself, keeping her back firmly to him.
“I’ll see you out,” Simon offered. He was glad for a moment alone to ask his friend if there was anything else he should know about either Alder or Darrow’s actions.
“Good day, Lady Lindsey,” Cambrey said, bowing to Jenny and offering her most of his usual cheery smile, which she returned. Glancing toward Maggie, he added, “And to you, Miss Margaret.”
Simon noted his wife’s sister received only a cursory nod from Cam, which she might have returned had she seen it, but she was staring at the choices of cold meat.
She did, however, answer. “Good day to you, Lord Cambrey.”
*
Jenny watched her husband leave the room, oblivious to any possible undercurrents of emotions since he had not been in Town when she thought she was witnessing a burgeoning romance.
Knowing her flirtatious sister, the whole interaction surprised her.
“I would have expected you to invite Lord Cambrey to eat with us and not take no for an answer.”
However, she recalled Cambrey’s neutral voice when speaking to Maggie, lacking all the warmth it had held in the previous few minutes of discussion.
Perhaps she had got it wrong, Jenny surmised. It had been weeks since she’d been to a Season’s event, and had not heard her sister mention dancing with Cambrey in all that time.
Maggie took a seat across from her with her plate piled high and a slight air of relief. Jenny wouldn’t have been surprised if her sister had said, “Thank goodness he’s gone.”
That message was in every fiber of her being as she visibly relaxed.
“What has happened?” Jenny asked, resuming her seat and pouring more tea.
“About what?” Maggie asked innocently.
“With you and Lord Cambrey, of course.”
“I have no idea to what you’re referring. What about me and Lord Cambrey?” Now her sister was staring at her blankly, leaving Jenny feeling like a gossiping fool.
Jenny frowned. Had she created an association between them entirely in her own head?
“I thought … that is, don’t you enjoy his company?”
Maggie shrugged and put jam on her toast. “He is nice enough, I suppose. Yet he is certainly no Lord Westing.”
“I see.” Cambrey had been pushed aside for the more dashing marquess.
“There is nothing to see, really, Jen. I am meeting many gentlemen I like this Season. There is no reason to set my cap for any single one of them now.”
Her sister was sounding far too pragmatic for her own good. Jenny laughed.
“Now what is it?” Maggie asked.
“I just realized I was fretting over you sounding practical, when you are saying exactly what I would wish you to say.”
She would leave her sister to her own thoughts and let her find her way. No doubt, Maggie would decide on someone before the fall, and if she didn’t, that would be fine, too.
*
“I can’t believe you’re leaving before the Season’s end.” Maggie had a perplexed look upon her face as she spoke. Perhaps she hadn’t noticed that only she was enjoying the events, along with their mother. Simon had been back for two months, and Jenny was showing enough that she truly should remain confined.
“I want to take long walks, and I can’t do that here,” Jenny explained.
“Most women only want to lie abed,” Eleanor complained, not wanting her sister to leave either.
“Or perhaps they are given no choice,” Jenny replied. “Besides, what difference does it make if I’m locked away here or back at Belton?”
Both her sister’s faces fell, looking quite sorrowful indeed.
Maggie reached out and touched her arm. “It does make a difference. We love you, and your presence is always welcome, even if you are back here at home waiting to hear the details of what’s happening with Lady Pomley or Lord Twiggins.” Her eyes welled up. “However, I completely understand that is selfish of me. You should do what’s best for you. If you feel the need for country air and walks in the field, then that’s what you should have.”
“Thank you.” Jenny did appreciate her support, for it was exceedingly difficult to leave her family in London. Yet that was exactly what she, along with Simon, intended to do.
Eleanor sighed. “I suppose we must get used to being without you, in any case. When we get back to Sheffield, we’ll be in our house and you’ll be far away in your manor.”
“You know you can visit anytime,” Jenny assured her. “Besides, it’s only a mile from door to door.” They all laughed at Eleanor’s melodramatic statement.
With Simon taking hold of her arm, Jenny didn’t mind one more event of the Season. A more intimate affair than a coming-out ball, this dinner and dance would have only about sixty people, all friends of the hosts. Some, like she and Simon, were married, some were being paired up by the hostess who had been charged with a little matchmaking by the debutante’s parents. Maggie would be there, too.
As the host and hostess were good friends of his father’s, Simon wanted to attend and take his place in society as the new Earl of Lindsey. Moreover, before returning to Sheffield, he wanted to put to bed any lingering doubts about his competence.
“You are easily the most beautiful woman here,” Simon whispered in her ear as they entered the magnificent dining hall, already festive and noisy as people searched for their place cards with the assistance of maids and manservants.
“I am easily the plumpest woman here. Henrietta has had to let this dress out to its utmost.” Still, she smiled at her husband, so dapper in black and gray.
Once seated, the host called for quiet and introduced himself and his wife at the other end of the table. The guests were charged with enjoying themselves and “to not bore the others.”
Everyone laughed. Jenny was relieved that at this affair, she had been allowed to sit beside Simon and not separated as was common at most events. The married couples were there simply to fill in and provide stability while the unmarried guests were paired up according to some whim of their hostess as to their suitability. Maggie was across from her, seated next to a young man whom Jenny had never seen before.
Picking up her lemonade, which Jenny found kept any queasiness at bay, though that rarely occurred anymore, she took a sip, glancing as she did down the long table. Among the thirty or more couples, her eyes registered Lord Cambrey, who was already deep in conversation with a fair-haired young woman.
She had been wrong on all counts. Cambrey didn’t look to be upset or pining for her sister. Glancing across at Maggie, she seemed completely entranced by her partner for the evening.
More’s the pity, Jenny thought. They’d seemed a likely match.
Her eyes travelled farther and—Neddy! Staring rudely at her. For a moment, her heartbeat seemed to trot with anxiousness. What ma
lice might her cousin get up to this evening? Then Simon laughed at something his neighbor said. At the same time, she felt his warm hand crawl into her lap and rest on her inner thigh. Her pulse sped up in a delightful way.
Her anxiety dissipated instantly. Ned didn’t dare speak to her, not with her husband beside her.
As it turned out, her cousin was not bright enough to realize he shouldn’t dare. When dinner was finished and the musicians were warming up, Simon left her side briefly to speak with their host in the gentleman’s drawing room. Ned must have been awaiting his chance. For no sooner had Simon disappeared between a lady in a gorgeous blue dress and a man in an absurd green suit, than her cousin appeared in front of her.
“Lady Lindsey,” he said.
“Ned,” she returned, not even bothering for polite formality.
He blanched at her insolence, but Jenny found she didn’t care in the least. Something about creating a baby made her less disposed to give a fig about incidental things such as her cousin.
“Your husband has returned.”
“How very observant of you.”
Ned’s expression was dour. “I wanted to offer my belated congratulations on your marriage.”
“Really?” She paused, for certainly there was something more.
“Yes, I can’t blame you for going after the earl in any way you could,” he glanced at her stomach, whose blossoming size could no longer be hidden by the folds of her gown.
That Ned even made mention of her condition, however obliquely, was beyond the pale, but she refused to get worked up. Jenny decided simply to walk away for, clearly, he was going to hurl more insults to soothe his own pride.
Attempting to pass him, she felt his fingers curl around her upper arm.
“Manners of a countess dictate you don’t walk away in a huff. We are family, after all.”
She tried to yank free of his grasp, but he held fast.
“You forgot we were family when you tried to humiliate me and embarrass my husband at the Chantel-Weiss’s gathering.”
“A word of advice,” Ned said, ignoring her remark at the same time as he stroked his thumb up and down her arm, making her skin quiver with revulsion. “Don’t let anger at ending up with Lord Despair cause you to grab any offer for a few minutes of happiness. For instance, one hears that Lady L was seen at the Serpentine with Lord A.”
Struggling to free herself, she brought her heel down on his boot.
“Oof,” Ned expelled a sound of pain but only gripped her harder. “You should comport yourself with a little more dignity.”
“As should you! You have a sister to think of. Your actions might reflect badly on her chances when she comes out. Unhand me.”
“The lady asked you to unhand her,” came Simon’s voice. “Yet you have not instantly obeyed her. How dangerously stupid of you!”
Chapter Thirty-One
With great haste, Ned dropped his hand from her arm.
Simon stepped close to her cousin, chest-to-chest, though her husband was a good four inches taller. She watched Ned crane his neck to try to look Simon in the eyes and swallow nervously at facing the earl.
“What I cannot understand, Darrow,” Simon continued, his voice low, “is why you were touching my wife in the first place. I should call you out at dawn to settle this.”
Jenny felt a rush of fear. She had no doubt Simon was the better shot and swordsmen, but accidents happened every year. She had no desire to become a widow.
Ned’s face went white. “That’s illegal, Lindsey, and you know it.”
Simon tut-tutted. “Hiding behind a technicality? I could spread your cowardice around and you’d be laughed out of every club in London by midnight.”
Ned looked to her for assistance, and she couldn’t help rolling her eyes at his suddenly childish appearance. Still, she had no desire for blood to be shed, not over such ridiculous behavior. Better to use the opportunity to teach the man a lesson.
“Does my husband appear to be impaired, mentally or otherwise?”
Ned swallowed again, his nervous glance going between Simon and Jenny.
“No, no, of course not.”
Jenny placed her hand through Simon’s arm, tugging him back slightly and holding her to him. She felt his muscular body relax.
“Then I suggest instead of spreading rumors, you consider how your connection to the house of Devere might help both you and Maisie. As I said before, your actions might harm your sister’s chances during her first Season. However, they also may help, as will the Darrows’ new association with the Lindseys. Think on it. Instead of facing certain death at dawn, why don’t you consider spreading the story of the return of your brave, intelligent, new cousin-in-law?”
Simon practically snorted, doubting such a truce could happen. Yet Ned looked thoughtful. After all, he had nothing to gain by his animosity and everything to lose.
There was a brief pause.
“Obviously, my dear cousin is absolutely correct. Lord Lindsey, my apologies for any perceived rudeness on my part. I wish you and your countess only the best.”
With a deep bow, he disappeared.
Simon looked at her, his eyes wide, a small frown, even his mouth slightly open. “How in the hell did you do that?”
Jenny smiled at him. “I merely appealed to his practical side.”
“I vow, wife, you should go to Parliament, not I, for you are a natural diplomat.”
“Truthfully, I want to go home to Belton.”
“And so we shall. First, however, I’m going to dance with my countess and show her off to everyone.”
*
It was obvious from their first night home things were going to be different.
Before anything else, the staff informed them of Lady Devere’s departure to France along with Peter and Alice. Jenny experienced a pang of sadness. Even though the widow had not been any company at all, the children were lively and good fun. With more time together, she knew her fondness for them would have grown into love.
“I hope she will return to visit and bring the children,” Jenny declared, looking quite morose.
“I hope she didn’t take the silver and family jewels,” Simon muttered, and then he went about trying to take his wife’s mind off of their absence.
With the house empty, there was no one to mind when they retired early. Except Binkley, who was facing another night on his cot in case the new environment caused any relapse for his lordship.
Simon could see Jenny was exhausted by their voyage from London, and with great restraint, kept his hands off his wife, even when she tried to tempt him. Enfolding her in his arms, he dozed off almost immediately … and awakened in his cell.
At first, he wanted to howl with the unfairness of his life. He had met the perfect woman and fallen in love. How in blue blazes had he ended up recaptured and back in Burma?
Pushing against the floor to bring himself to standing, he felt the soft dirt give beneath his palms. Pliable dirt. That wasn’t right. He knew it should be hard as rock. He stood anyway, and quickly, for the longer he lay on the ground, the more chance the rats would begin to bite him. Except there weren’t any.
Simon nearly laughed with relief. There were no vermin of any kind. The cell was as clean as any room at Belton. This wasn’t real. He knew the imaginary Toby was somewhere in the dream, too, and that sobered him. However, he’d had the nightmare so many times, he knew when to avert his eyes to avoid seeing him at all. And then the jailer came, rattling his keys.
It’s not my fault Toby died, nor can I help him now. There is no reason to try to kill the jailor.
And with that realization, Simon awakened, still lying close to his gently snoring wife, her back pressed against his arm.
Feeling blessed, he closed his eyes and drifted back into peaceful sleep.
*
As they undressed for bed the following night, Simon nuzzled her neck before declaring, “You can start decorating the nursery as soon as you lik
e.”
Jenny bit her lip at his words. “That’s bad luck, isn’t it? Besides, we haven’t picked out a room. Where will the nursery be?”
Taking her hands in his, he pulled her against him.
“Your old bedroom will be the nursery, with the child as close to us as a thin door, because you will no longer be needing it.”
She couldn’t contain the smile that erupted on her face, and his next words only made it widen.
“I’m hoping, dear wife, that we can dispense with Binkley at our feet. Shall we do so tonight?” He cradled her face in his hands.
Not hesitating a moment, Jenny nodded. “Yes, absolutely, I think we should.”
They sealed their new arrangement with a kiss, after which he gestured toward the windows where the butler’s cot was conspicuously absent. She clapped her hands in delight.
“It will be especially welcome not to have to constrain our lovemaking to merely once before we sleep,” Simon said as he finished unbuttoning her dress and slid it from her shoulders, then he turned her in his arms.
“Sometimes, I awaken in the night and long to sink into you, only to realize Binkley is snoring in the corner of the room.”
Jenny giggled, causing him to reach down and grab her buttocks with both hands, squeezing and kneading them with strong fingers.
“I can’t pull you against me tightly anymore,” he realized.
Jenny sighed softly. “My belly is becoming an impediment.”
“Nonsense, it simply means we have to become more creative in our endeavors. Right now, we need to remove our clothing and quickly. I must have better access to that luscious body of yours.”
She felt herself blush from head to toe but acquiesced, allowing him to remove her undergarments as hastily as possible. At this stage of her pregnancy, she was finding herself particularly heated and throbbing in all the right places.
Why, Simon barely had to look at her and she felt dampness between her thighs. Was that normal? Normal or not, her appetite for her husband was nearly insatiable. Jenny thanked her lucky stars Simon had been strong enough to leave her and get treatment. She was even more thankful he’d returned when he had.
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