by Regina Darcy
Tabitha was not vain, but as she and Atelia circled the room, she could not help but notice that others were gazing upon her. It was, of course, because she was a new face, Tabitha told herself. Still, it was flattering to be noticed when she had seemingly been invisible for recent years.
“Do not look over there,” Atelia advised from behind her fan, “but a very handsome gentleman has not taken his eyes off you since you entered the room.”
“How are you so certain that he is looking at me? You are quite a diamond of first water yourself, Atelia, especially in your fetching green gown which matches the colour of your eyes so perfectly.”
“Oh, but I am a married woman and a faithful wife and so no gentleman is going to bother with me,” Atelia said contentedly. “No, my dear, you are making an impression. Did you ever expect that being a widow could be so thrilling?”
THREE
Joshua Hendrickson had not wanted to come to the assembly room dance that night and had only done so because his friend had prevailed upon him to do so. But now that he had arrived, his gaze was kept riveted to the lovely woman at the side of Lady Atelia Warrens. She was the very picture of femininity with her diminutive height and her round beguiling form and he wondered why he had never seen her before.
Arnold Fenrick, the Earl of Betram, peered across the room. “I had heard that Lady Atelia’s friend had come to London,” he said. “That must be the Viscountess Randstand. Quite a story: her husband vanished four years ago, no one knows where. He has just been declared dead and now, the Viscountess is on her own. There’s a son, mind you,” he said, “so it’s not her fortune.”
“I am not in pursuit of a fortune,” Joshua replied.
“Then, you’re one of the few who aren’t,” Arnold muttered darkly, for he had to marry and marry well. “I suppose I could introduce you.”
But when Arnold attempted to make good on his offer, the lady was already accompanied by a partner and engaged in the lively steps of a quadrille. She danced with grace and liveliness Joshua noted. If he could not accompany her in the dance, he could at least admire her from the side of the room. No one noticed his rapt attention, as Arnold and the cluster of young gentlemen with whom they were in conversation had another topic of discussion.
“It was very sudden,” observed one man. “Overton has been a fixture at court since the Regency began and now, without a word of explanation, he is banished? Something’s afoot, you may be sure of it.”
“Yes, but what?” pressed another of the group.
“Walcott Overton has his fingers in any number of unsavoury escapades,” said another member of the gathering. “It’s surely no surprise that he’s gotten his comeuppance from the Prince Regent. Don’t you agree, Hendrickson?”
“What? Oh yes, yes, of course.”
Good-natured laughter followed his unconvincing accord. “You haven’t a clue what we’re talking about,” Arnold accused him with a laugh. “You can’t keep your eyes off the pretty widow.”
“What pretty widow?” someone interjected.
“The comely filly dancing with Lord Bannington’s son. Newly arrived in London. Husband was Arthur Clemens, you remember him?”
Some of the men nodded, others shook their heads.
“I heard he’s just been declared dead,” the youngest member of the group interjected.
“After being unseen for four years, death would seem to be the most prevailing cause, wouldn’t you say?” Arnold remarked with a cynical smile.
“I suppose, but it’s all very odd. Randstand . . . bit of a martinet, wasn’t he? Did he lock his wife away? I don’t remember seeing her,” another person mused.
“I believe she had a season, then married Randstand, then had a son and has been exiled to the country since. Now, she’s a widow and . . .” Arnold left the sentence dangling suggestively.
“Fetching, isn’t she?”
The group turned as one and focused their gaze on the widow as she disappeared in the throng.
“It’s no use trying your luck,” Arnold told them with a laugh. “Joshua isn’t going to tolerate any competition.”
But Joshua wasn’t paying any attention to the banter of his friends. The tune had ended, and the dancing had stopped as couples reformed for the next tune. But when he scanned the throng, he did not see the beguiling widow among them.
He had been accompanying the jolly young earl to such engagements for a number of years, amused at his friend’s quest to find a wealthy wife, but he had not, until tonight, noticed anyone of the fair sex who had captivated his attention as the demure widow had.
Despite the speculative discourse of the gentlemen at the assembly rooms, Joshua saw nothing to indicate that the Viscountess was behaving in any manner which demonstrated a lack of decorum. If she was a widow now, and if her late husband had been gone for a prolonged amount of time, then why should she not join society again? There was no fault in that. She was a grown woman, and not a debutante, and she was far from matronly.
Widows remarried.
He did not know why this particular woman should have been so mesmerising when he had proven himself immune to other women who were equally as marriageable. Joshua was not an aristocrat, but as a man of some affluence and breeding, he was welcomed by the beau monde for his gentlemanly comportment and his discernment.
The Hendricksons were well established in London circles; Joshua had a fashionable residence in Mayfair; he was recognised as an excellent whip and his bay horses were admired by experts in horseflesh; he was sought after as a guest thanks to his charming manners and unpretentious character. In a gaudy society where excess was hailed as taste, the Hendricksons had long been renowned for championing painting, literature, and the theatre. Hendrickson money had been sought when explorers needed funds to sail beyond the boundaries of the known world and the family had profited handsomely from trade ventures. However, the stain of being in trade had not marred the family’s reputation. The Hendricksons were generous, philanthropic, and cultured, traits which were sadly lacking in the pedigreed aristocracy.
Joshua maintained a style of living which did not require him to earn his daily bread and yet, he was not idle. Managing the profits of a network of wealth which flowed in from all corners of the empire required a keen and astute business sense and this Joshua had in abundance.
But as he returned to his home very late that night, after he had convinced Arnold that there was no reason to linger at the assembly, Joshua sat in front of the fire in his study and considered the evening.
Viscountess Randstand was a stranger to him and he to her, but he did not wish for that state to continue. Therefore, he would need to make his introductions.
There was no parent to whom he needed to make his case; she was not a dependent. She was of age and as the mother of a young son who had assumed the title upon the pronouncement of Viscount Randstand’s death, she was a mature woman with obligations.
It was a very different matter to court a grown woman rather than paying suit to a debutante fresh from her father’s house. There was, he acknowledged, a delightfully engaging anticipation in the prospect, for as a woman, she was surely more adept at intelligent conversation than the usual miss just out of the schoolroom. Unpleasant as the circumstances surrounding her husband’s death might be, preceded as they were by a disappearance of four years, such an episode would undoubtedly require that a woman display fortitude and other characteristics not commonly seen in the debutantes.
She was, he had learned, almost a newcomer to society, so long had been her absence from the bustling swirl of London. He had heard, having made it his business to learn more about the enchanting young widow, that hers had not been a happy marriage from all accounts.
According to an acquaintance, Arthur Clemens was a rigid demanding husband who thought that, as the master of the household, it was his right and duty to rule his wife.
Such a precept was abhorrent to Joshua who, although a bachelor, had what some
regarded as radical notions regarding the equality of the sexes. Joshua had even voiced the opinion that women ought to be allowed to participate in government and even to hold office.
“How in heavens name would that happen when women could not even vote?” his friends reminded him. To which Joshua retorted that perhaps that absence of female suffrage was a sign of a decay in society.
She was likely to be besieged by offers, he realised. A pretty widow who would have access to her late husband’s wealth, a lonely woman with a son, easy picking for the right man . . . tempting lures to the rapacious bachelors of the ton. He did not intend to be confused for one of those men. He would pursue her decorously and sincerely and he would be ruled by her will.
“Is there anything further, sir?” his valet came in, tactfully reminding him that the hour was late and long past bedtime.
Joshua rose. “My apologies, Sloan; I’ve lost track of the time. Nothing further. I’ll see myself to bed, thank you, if you will tend to the fire. I have a busy day tomorrow and the rest of the week.”
“Sir?” Sloan inquired. As Joshua’s valet, he was immediately aware of his master’s schedule and he did not recall any pressing engagements upon the calendar.
Joshua smiled. “Nothing which requires your attention, Sloan. . . Although, tell me, which of the many vendors should I see for the best and freshest bouquet?”
Sloan’s eyes widened. “Flowers, sir? I doubt you could do better than the gardens here, sir. The roses are in splendid bloom now.”
“So they are. I could smell them when I was outside. Thank you, Sloan, you are quite right. I intend to send a bouquet to a lady, and I want flowers that will do justice to her beauty.”
Sloan wasn’t sure if roses were quite proper for such a delicate mission, but it was not his place to say. “Very good, sir. Shall I have one of the footmen pick them for you?”
“No, I shall pick them myself, but I will require a footman to deliver them.”
Joshua awoke early the next morning while the dew still glittered on the soft petals of the flowers. He picked the choice roses and instructed the maid to wrap them in lace, then gave the footman directions for delivery.
And then, he waited, wondering if his actions would be seen as impertinent, if she would take his gesture amiss, or if she would care at all. He spent the day at home, playing the piano as he often did when he was preoccupied with a situation, and that evening, he went to a concert.
Music had always been his sanctuary and as he listened to the music, he was able to enjoy the entertainment with a clear mind. He returned to his home and went to bed at a reasonable hour.
He was at breakfast the next morning when Reeves brought in the morning post.
Joshua took the salver with more interest than he typically felt. There it was, in a lady’s flowing penmanship. He opened the letter.
Dear Mr Hendrickson, he read,
I thank you for the lovely flowers which you sent. I had not expected to see such glorious roses in the city, as I am used to the country seasons where we expect our gardens to blossom in splendid profusion. Thank you for the reassurance that, although I am far from the gardens of Randstand, roses are to be found everywhere in England.
Tabitha Clemens, Viscountess of Randstand
Joshua smiled. Lady Randstand had expressed her appreciation with a natural graciousness which exhibited both sensitivity and discretion. She had not responded with a coy invitation; nor had she been dismissive of the flowers.
This brief note only made Joshua want to get to know the young woman better and he resolved to do that today.
He chose his attire with care, not wanting to appear a dandy and at the same time, intent on showing his respect through the clothing that he selected. A simple muslin shirt, formal trousers rather than the comfortable buckskins that he generally enjoyed for daytime, a red and black embroidered waistcoat, and a black tailcoat, with his Hessians. Sloan applied his talents to the knotting of the stock and pronounced his master fit for calling.
Joshua paid little attention, as a rule, to his appearance; that was the reason he had a valet, he joked. If Sloan allowed him to leave the premises, he knew that he was presentable. But he cast a quick glance at his reflection and shrugged. Tall, dark hair, light blue eyes. Nothing remarkable, he felt. He took his hat from Sloan.
“I go a-wooing, Sloan; wish me good fortune.”
“The lady who received the roses?”
“The very same.”
Sloan smiled approvingly. “She fancied them, then?”
“Or else, she is too polite to say otherwise,” his master replied.
But when Joshua got out of his carriage and was admitted to the Randstand house, the butler led him into the drawing room, where he saw his roses in a vase on the mantel. Not mere courtesy, then, he thought. She liked them.
“Lady Randstand,” he said with a bow. “I apologise if I seem importunate in my call. I saw you at the assembly rooms and wanted to further an acquaintance with you.”
The Viscountess sat down, gesturing toward a chair across from her as she did so.
“Please sit down, Mr Hendrickson. I appreciate your flowers; they are lovely, and as I wrote in my card, so welcome now that I am in the city where one may go days, I vow, without seeing a blossom.”
“There are flowers all over the city, milady, I assure you, but until you have discovered their whereabouts, I shall be pleased to send a bouquet daily. My gardens are profligately in bloom and I shall enjoy sharing their bounty.”
He was intrigued to see a delicate shade of rose climb in her cheeks as if the talk of the flowers had conjured their presence in her fair complexion.
“I am not—I do not wish to seem—that is—”
“Lady Randstand,” he said gently, leaning forward. “It is not my intention to make you ill at ease. I saw you at the assembly room and then, you were gone. I should like to befriend you and, in doing so, to go no further than friendship if that is your wish. If you should decide that my company does not displease you, perhaps we may entertain thoughts of a higher bond. But for now, I offer my friendship.”
“I am—”
The drawing room doors burst open and a young lad with tousled dark hair burst into the room. “Mama, I’m hiding from Miss Allen!” he exclaimed.
“You shall not remain hidden for long,” she told him, “if you announce your presence at the top of your lungs.”
“Oh, she shan’t hear me,” the boy said confidently. “I slid down the bannister while she was still at the top of the stairs.”
“Micah! You mustn’t slide on the banister. You could be hurt!” Looking flushed, she turned to her guest and continued, “Micah, this is Mr Joshua Hendrickson.”
Suddenly shy, Micah looked to his mother as if he sought her guidance on what he should do next.
“I’m pleased to meet you, Lord Micah,” Joshua said seriously. “I hope that you will enjoy your stay in London.”
“There you are!” Miss Allen came into the room.
“Micah, go with Miss Allen. I am sure that your diversion has been rather more than she might have intended.”
“We are going for a walk, milady, only Lord Micah decided that we ought to have an impromptu game of hide and seek.”
“I see,” the Viscountess said, her lips curving in a smile. “Micah, if you behave yourself and listen to Miss Allen without needing to be scolded, I shall allow you to stay up tonight for a half hour past your bedtime and we shall put that puzzle together that I bought for you.”
Delight shone in the boy’s eyes. “Truly, Mama?”
“If you behave.”
“I shall be a saint, Mama, I promise.”
“Sainthood may be somewhat beyond your ability,” his mother replied drily. “I shall settle for you being a good little boy.”
When the child and his governess left, the Viscountess turned a serious gaze to Joshua. “My son is everything to me,” she said without preamble. “His father i
s dead. But before he was pronounced dead, my husband was missing for four years. Micah does not remember him.” She tucked a loose hair strand behind her ear. “Life is fragile and unpredictable, Mr Hendrickson, and that is why he is the most important person in my life. I envision no likelihood that this will change. I tell you this so that you will know from the very beginning that I am no longer a wife, but I will always be a mother.”
He considered her words. She sounded as if she expected her comment to be met with disapproval, but would not any mother feel the same way, he thought?
“Lady Randstand,” he said gently, “I did not come here today to try to supersede your son in your affections, for I hold the maternal affections of a woman for her child in the highest regard. It is, I believe, the most perfect and profound of emotions. He is a charming young boy and you do yourself great credit by recognising your responsibilities to raise him well in his father’s absence.”
He saw that a hopeful look flickered in Lady Randstand’s lovely grey eyes. Did she really think that her love for her son was something which suitors would regard as a threat to their prospects? It would be a very sad day if that were true.
“Thank you, Mr Hendrickson,” she replied. “I am glad that you understand my position. I am not averse to—” she hesitated for a brief moment and the rosy hue began, once again, to mount in her cheeks, “your friendship, so long as he is not excluded from any bonds of affection which you and I may come to share.”
Joshua’s eyes sparkled. “Does he enjoy riding, Lady Randstand?”
“He has a pony in the country but here in London, I am afraid that he has not had the opportunity, in the short time since he has been here, to go riding, even on the very limited scale which he enjoys on his horse, Sir Prancelot, who is I must explain, a rather plump little beast not at all inclined to share in the exploits which my son’s imagination would prefer.”