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Authors: Constance Hussey

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St. Clair looked straightly
at him. “You wrote of the children and your marriage. Why, Nick? I imagine all
was not well with Danielle and her brother, but marriage? You cannot make me
believe you fell madly in love with this woman, whoever she is.”

Westcott grimaced. “Of
course I did not ‘fall in love’ as you say. There were circumstances that
required it.” He held out a hand to forestall any questions, rose, and walked
over to brace one arm on the mantelpiece. “From the beginning then. I arrived
in Portugal on schedule and was able to determine the Durants’ address within a
day.” He felt his face harden with remembered disgust. “I will tell you at once
that I took an immediate dislike to
Monsieur
Meraux, even before I
learned of his infamous behavior.”

“Meraux is the stepfather?”
St. Clair asked.

“More or less, but not their
legal guardian, which is one of the things I need to discuss with you and Lord
Strathmere.” He paused to put his thoughts in order. “I first saw them at the
market….” He told them most of it, rounding out the tale with his confrontation
with Meraux.

“Infamous indeed! How
dreadful for the girl. It’s perfectly understandable that you brought them
here,” Juliette said, looking horrified.

“Despicable,” St. Clair said
in a cold voice. “I don’t know anything about the laws in Portugal, but doubt
it would be legal to force a child into marriage. It was well done of you,
Nick.”

From the steely glint in his
eyes, Westcott knew the earl would like nothing better than to horsewhip the
Frenchman, and his mouth tightened in an unspoken agreement. “Nevertheless, it
will be a difficult adjustment for those two. They’ve been berated to the point
that they are scared of their own shadows.” He hesitated, thinking of Guy’s
behavior with his dog. “Although the boy is more outgoing. His sister did her
best to shelter him, I believe. That, however, is a problem for another time.
Now, I want to see Sarah and take her home.”

Juliette blinked and threw
up her hands. “You wretch! You are going to go off without saying a word about
Lady Westcott? We don’t even know her name!”

Westcott raised his brows.
“Her name is Anne. Her father was a high-ranking army officer, and she is fond
of children.” He raised a hand to halt the questions he knew were coming. “Call
in a few days. I would like you to meet her, and the Durant children. Now, I
must get Sarah home before dark. No, don’t get up. I know the way.” This in
response to Juliette’s shift forward. St. Clair was already on his feet, and
Westcott looked toward him. “You will contact Strathmere? If at all possible,
it might be best if he comes here. I intend to make Danielle and Guy my wards
and if he can look into the legalities involved, I would appreciate it.”

He hurried away after a
quick “Thank you,” and left before either his host or hostess had a chance to
reply. He’d been rude, but St. Clair would understand. He yearned to be home,
ensconced in his study with Sarah safely asleep upstairs, alone to think
through the past tumultuous week and determine his course for the future. A
future he suspected held more than a few problems and Anne not the least of
them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twelve

 

Sunlight filtering through a
parting of the drapes caught the filmy material above Anne’s head, throwing
splashes of yellow onto her bedcover.
Akin to being inside a speckled egg
,
she thought sleepily and smiled at the whimsy. It was an elegant, pretty room,
and she would become accustomed to the exuberance. The bed was comfortable and
the urge to stay in it almost irresistible. Danielle and Guy still slept and
why not enjoy the peaceful moments while she could?

Refreshed by a good night’s
sleep, Anne believed she was ready to face what she suspected might be a trying
day. For the hundredth time—at least!—she questioned why she was
here
,
in this opulent house, tied to a man who did not seem to even
like
her,
and committed to mothering three children, none of which were her own.

Anne buried her face in her
pillow. Repeating the litany did not change the answer, the reasons being no
less valid now. Instead, she ticked off the positive items in her head. A place
to call home, a family, however unusual, some protection from the world. The
possibility of making friends, the freedom to enjoy her music.
And if you
are honest, you wanted the chance to win Westcott’s affection.

It was not
impossible.
Improbable
perhaps, but she suspected there was more to the viscount than was apparent. Or
perhaps not. He could be the cold, unsociable creature he’d often presented so
far.
In which case, you will still be better off than you were before
.
Now
get up, lazy head, before you
lose your nerve and spend the day hiding.

Anne rolled over and sat up.
A robe lay at the bottom of the bed, one of Westcott’s purchases in Southampton,
and she leaned forward to run her hand over the silky deep green fabric. It
would be remarkably easy to become accustomed to these luxuries. She slipped
the elegant garment on and went over to the door that led to the bathing room.

Too tired to do little more
than use the commode last night, Anne paused on the threshold. An alcove on one
side housed the commode, and a pedestal sink backed by an ornate mirror, and a
dressing table took up one wall. But it was the bath that drew her attention. A
ceramic, or perhaps metal, oval encased in a wood surround, it looked large
enough to hold three people. She didn’t envy the servants who had to fill it,
but that notwithstanding, she was going to request they do so this morning.
Thinking about how pleasant it would be, Anne attended to her needs, and went
back into the bedchamber.

Guy was sitting up and
rubbing his eyes when she entered. “
Bonjour, Tante
Blackwell
.

“Good day, Guy.” She smiled
at him. “I think we will practice some English today. So, good day, Aunt Blackwell.”

“Good day, Aunt Blackwell,”
Guy repeated solemnly. “Good day, Danielle.” He grinned at his sister, who was
now also awake and regarding him with interest. “
Écoutez.
I have
l’anglais,
oui
?

est Bonnie?”

He beamed at them, looking
very proud of himself. Anne laughed, lifted him to stand on his trundle, and
gave him a hug. “Bonnie is with the young man,” she said slowly, and to her
delight, Guy understood, although his answer was in French.

“The
man who took us out to play.”

“Yes.
The man who took you out to play.” Anne repeated it several times in English,
echoed by Guy, and she saw Danielle mouth the words as well. Language was the
first priority, and she vowed to bring the subject up with Westcott as soon as
possible. That is, if he even made an appearance today, which she was by no
means certain of, but believed even he could not be so unfeeling.

A
scratch on the door, followed by the appearance of Mrs. Lawson and two maids,
halted any further brooding about the scarce Lord Westcott. The younger of the
maids had what appeared to be some of Danielle and Guy’s clothing over her arm
and with a reassuring smile, Anne sent them off with the young woman.

“Thank
you, Mrs. Lawson. I had planned to inquire about the children’s clothing. I
also need to dress, but would like to bathe first, if possible. The roads are
so dusty.” She smiled at the stern-faced woman and was relieved to see an
answering, sympathetic, smile.

“So
they are, Madam. I will fix a bath for you. The pipes are quite clever. Lord
Westcott had it done when the room was redecorated. Very much into modern ways,
his lordship.” Mrs. Lawson busied herself with the beds as she spoke and Anne
settled into a chair out of the way. “Your trunk is in the passageway. Someone
will finish unpacking for you whilst you bathe. Molly will see to it the
children get something to eat.”

The
housekeeper paused to look at Anne, as if waiting for a reaction to this, but
Anne had no objection. Danielle and Guy had to become accustomed to these new
surroundings.

“That
is excellent, Mrs. Lawson. I am sure they are hungry, as I am. In the future, I
will eat downstairs, but today I would like to breakfast here.” Anne smiled,
but her tone was firm. However difficult an adjustment, the servants had to
accept her authority. They did not need to know her insides quivered like
blancmange at the notion she was to order this establishment, and although
Westcott had not come right out and said it, the implication was clear. She was
here to mother the children and run the household.

Anne
was suddenly assailed with a longing for Maggie. She needed a familiar face and
someone to confide in, but what the Fentons’ position would be here was
uncertain. Something else she needed to discuss with Westcott.
You must
insist that he see you, Anne. Besides, you vowed not to allow him to exclude
you and the children from his life. Granted, that was prior to learning of his
position and habitat, but still….

Mrs.
Lawson’s announcement that her bath was ready put off any further mental
discussion concerning the viscount. Anne gratefully succumbed to the pleasure
of the steaming water. The bath was a marvel, with hot water arriving via the
“clever” pipes and involving a boiler and other complexities beyond her. It
worked, which was all that mattered, and she emerged some time later feeling
refreshed and almost looking forward to the day ahead. Clara, her new maid—
personal
maid—something else to become accustomed to, had laid out a gown and
undergarments. Professing to be “a hand with hair, Madam”, Clara proceeded to
brush and arrange Anne’s in a style less severe than her usual tight knot.

Clad
in one of her new dresses, one of several Westcott had ordered for her in
Southampton, Anne surveyed her reflection with something like approval. She was
presentable and however vain it may be, feeling so was a boon to her
confidence. Which was sorely needed, since a request from Westcott to see him
at her convenience had arrived while she was finishing her breakfast.  One
cannot simply order a wife about, can one? Anne coughed to cover her giggle.
Westcott could, she felt sure, and thought his consideration a good sign.

Feeling
somewhat more in charity with him, Anne followed the maid through a bewildering
number of passageways to an imposing set of double doors at the end of one of
the longest. Her bedchamber must be in a different wing, Anne decided, stepping
inside when the maid opened the door. This wood-paneled room appeared to face
the rear of the house, judging from the lake visible through the wide windows.
Of
course
there was a lake, and no doubt a bowling green lurked somewhere,
along with a grotto, folly and who knew what else? Smothering a nervous laugh
at these absurdities, she crossed the room to join Westcott at the window.
Unsmiling, gaze hooded, he watched her approach without the slightest
expression of welcome. Anne stiffened and set her own face into what she
believed was an equally cool expression.

“Good
morning, Westcott.” She nodded graciously at him and then waved a hand toward
the view. “A very pretty aspect. Is the lake deep enough for boats?”

He
looked taken aback at this off-hand comment, and then something akin to
amusement flickered in his eyes. “In parts, quite deep, and we do keep several
boats on hand. Any one of the groundskeepers will be pleased to take you out,
if you wish it.” A sudden smile lit his face and he lightly touched her arm. “A
poor beginning! Come, sit down and we will try again.” He led her to one of the
chairs flanking the fireplace, sat opposite her, and with another of those
unexpected smiles that caught at her throat, added, “Good morning, Anne. I
trust you found your accommodations satisfactory?” He looked expectantly at
her. “Now you reply, “Quite satisfactory, Nicholas.”

Struck
by the idiocy of it, Anne laughed and relaxed her tense posture. “’Quite
satisfactory, Nicholas,’” she echoed, and was pleased to see him lean back,
seemingly at ease.
At least so it suited him to appear, but it would not do
to forget this man was a master at hiding his true feelings.
Believing it
might behoove her to take advantage of this good will while it lasted, Anne
plunged right in. “The room is lovely, which I am told is due to you and your
daughter.” She clasped her hands together in front of her and smiled. “The
bathing room is truly a marvel.”

“Ah,
then you have no aversion to these “newfangled inventions.”

“Not
when they make life so much more comfortable,” she said dryly. “Danielle and
Guy also thought it impressive. You are aware they spent the night with me?”

“Yes,
so I was informed. They have been given rooms, in the same wing as Sarah, and
close to the nursery. You, of course, are free to choose otherwise, if you
prefer another arrangement.”

Given
Westcott’s bland expression and tone of voice, Anne was unable to judge whether
he expected her to object. Nor did she have any idea of his opinion on her
decision to keep Danielle and Guy with her last night. It hardly mattered now,
however, since she did not plan a reoccurrence, and she put it aside as
unimportant.

BOOK: An Inconvenient Wife
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