Romancing the Countess (23 page)
Because he thought—he hoped—Leah would return to London after the disastrous end to her house party. Because, even though another new rumor spread every day and he knew it was only a matter of time before he heard one about Ian and Angela, he couldn’t stop thinking of Leah.
He had no reason to believe she would come to him—he’d specifically told her not to—and yet he stayed, looking through the post as soon as the butler brought it to him each day, wandering toward the front door whenever he thought he heard someone knock.
Henry pushed his arm away and climbed down off the bench, and Sebastian turned on the seat to watch him. Henry went first to a plant and fiddled with its leaves, then crouched down and poked his finger in the soil. “No,” Sebastian said when it appeared his son might stick his finger in his mouth.
Henry glanced at him over his shoulder with a look that could be described only as mischievous. It reminded Sebastian of Leah. Hell, he admitted silently, raking his hand through his hair, everything reminded him of Leah. He looked for her everywhere, tried to see her in everything, even dreamed of her at night.
Henry meandered from the potted plant to the sofa, climbing up onto the cushions and then attempting to hoist himself over the back. Sebastian stood to rescue him again.
It was time to move on. He was exhausting himself, and Henry needed the countryside to play. He needed the wide-open fields to run in and soft grass to tumble on. Sebastian couldn’t rescue Leah. And it was clear that she didn’t want him to, for she hadn’t come, nor had she written him.
It was time he saw her as she saw herself: a widow with no need for anyone else.
Sebastian crouched low and hurried behind the sofa. First he saw Henry’s hand reach over the top, then the crop of his blond hair. Sebastian growled, then jumped up and snagged Henry in his arms, holding the squealing, giggling boy tight. “Come,” he said, striding to the door. “It’s time to go to Hampshire.”
Chapter 14
When I lie in your arms, the entire world stills. The night fades, and the sun doesn’t dare to show its face. My life seems to exist in moments like these, in the short hours I am with you.
Leah stood as her mother entered the room. “I thought your message said you’ve be arriving earlier this morning.”
“The train was delayed.”
“I see.” Her mother’s expression was one of both disapproval and victory. How glad she was, Leah thought, to see that her errant child must be forced to come under her wing. Even though Leah’s reputation was ruined, all that mattered was Adelaide’s satisfaction.
“I’ve had a footman take your things up to your old bedchamber. I haven’t changed anything since your wedding, so everything should be as it was before. However, I believe we need to discuss the expectations your father and I have for you, now that you’ve returned home. Namely, the expectations we have now that you have threatened the reputation of the Hartwell name.”
Leah remained silent. There was nothing to say, after all. She’d taken control of her life, but that control had resulted in her losing her independence to her mother again. She wore black once more, had donned her veil for the journey home. Would that the coin purse from Viscount Rennell had been but a little larger. Then she would have had enough to travel somewhere else, where her reputation wouldn’t have preceded her. In Ireland or Europe, or even in America, she might have been able to find a decent position as a governess or companion with the benefit of her speech and education.
Adelaide moved to the sofa opposite of Leah and tucked her skirts beneath her as she sat down. Pursing her lips, she scanned Leah’s appearance. As always, the direct evaluation was quite tedious. Leah didn’t squirm, however, nor did she avert her eyes; she met her mother’s gaze evenly, her chin lifted. She might have nowhere to go but her family’s home, but she was more confident now. She would not be cowed by the same steely glance that had once caused her to scrub her face until it was raw when she was younger, just in case her mother might comment upon the dullness of her complexion.
“You’ve lost weight again.” It was difficult to tell whether Adelaide was more pleased or disappointed at her daughter’s failure.
Leah’s fingers twitched in her lap. It was what she’d expected after missing breakfasts during the house party, but she couldn’t explain the reason behind her lack of appetite. It hurt too much to think of Sebastian, and she could never speak of him to her mother. He would be her secret, his words and their time spent together to be examined over and over again only in the darkness of her own bedchamber.
“I shall eat twice as much at dinner,” she replied, hoping at least that they could move on to a different topic quickly.
Her mother seemed happy with her response. “I’ve already decided what we must do in order to halt the rumors and remove you from the scandal you’ve created.”
Hopefully it would be to sequester her in a nunnery. Right now that idea sounded much more appealing than living beneath her mother’s roof once more.
“You will continue to wear your mourning clothes, of course, although I think you should have more bombazine dresses. You are fortunate that it’s autumn and we’re no longer in London. Otherwise I would forbid you to go outside. However, you will have a servant with you at all times should you decide to go for a walk or a ride—and if you do make such a decision, you will act as the lady I have instructed you to be.”
“You believe the scandal will die down simply because I begin to act like a regular widow once again? That if we ignore the rumors, my reputation might be saved?”
“Of course not.” Adelaide gave a small humph. “I’m only telling you these things because I fear if I don’t mention them you will believe that you have the freedom to do otherwise. No, my dear, I fear the only thing that will save our family’s name now is for you to marry again once your time of mourning is finished.”
This time, Leah was unable to keep herself detached. Her entire body flinched at her mother’s words, and she felt her stomach roll—not once, but twice.
“Since the Season has ended, we don’t have very many choices, but do not worry, my dear. I’ve already selected two potential candidates for your next husband. Fortunately, they both live nearby so that your courting may be done as expediently as possible. You will be engaged quietly, the banns announced as soon as it’s appropriate, and when you are married again, you won’t have to live so far away from us.”
“Mother, I . . . I cannot marry again.”
Adelaide stared at her, a frown marring her smooth forehead. “You cannot marry again?” she asked, her tone bemused. Too quiet.
“Perhaps later, after a few years. When I’ve—I’ve—” Leah stammered to a halt, unable to comprehend the possibility of lying together with another man. So quickly after Ian’s death, and so soon after she had gained her independence from the marital bed. Even a few years seemed too short of a time. “I will not marry again,” she said, then added when her mother’s frown turned into a reproving glare: “Not right now, at least.”
“Hmm. Well, darling, I’m afraid it’s the only choice you have. While I would thoroughly enjoy you staying with us for as long as you wish, I fear that the little party you gave has made that impossible. We can only work to improve your situation. As you said, ignoring the rumors will do no good, and there is nothing else that can be done to stop them except for you to marry again. Then the gossipmongers will see that you have been taken in hand by another husband, and they will find something else to speak of.”
Leah swallowed, her heartbeat deafening as it pounded in her ears. “Then, if I understand you correctly, you mean to say that if I do not agree to either one of your suggested husbands, I may not be allowed to live here?”
Adelaide tilted her head to the side, blinking. “I’m sorry, Leah, but there’s no other choice. If you cannot do this, you must realize your scandal will soon spread to your father and me. Of course, we would not care as much, but it would also affect Beatrice. You wouldn’t ruin her opportunities at such a wonderful marriage as you had with Ian, would you?”
“Beatrice,” Leah repeated.
“Your sister.” Her mother gave a small smile, the width of which did nothing to hide her growing satisfaction. Satisfaction that she had caught Leah in her trap, that she would once again direct Leah’s life?
Inhaling, Leah forced her shoulders to relax. “May I ask who the two men are whom you’ve already selected as candidates for my next husband? And how do you know that they will be amenable to courting me? Will they not have been dissuaded by my actions?”
“Not at all. Your father has seen fit to provide you with another dowry. A smaller one than you had when you married Ian, to be sure, but a decent one, nonetheless.”
Leah’s smile felt brittle. Idly, she wondered if she laughed now whether she would break apart into a thousand tiny pieces. “But it’s not a dowry, is it? You mean to pay someone to take me.”
Her mother raised an eyebrow. “Your reputation is ruined, Leah. We are merely providing necessary inducement for the gentlemen to court you.”
“Again, may I ask who these men are?”
“Of course. You know both of them well. First, there is Mr. Grimmons—”
“Mr. Grimmons? The vicar?”
Her mother shrugged. “Clergymen need money, too, my dear. I believe his sister and her husband were helping with part of his support, but apparently that has ended.”
“But my reputation—”
“Does not matter to him. I’ve assured Mr. Grimmons that you have learned the error of your ways and are more repentant. He believes it is grief which led you to behave so wickedly. And what better way to assure everyone that you are still my good and proper daughter than for you to marry a vicar?”
Leah inwardly sighed. “And the other?”
“Mr. Hapersby.”
Leah stared. “Mother.”
Adelaide waved her hand. “No, no. He’s an excellent match as well. I might have exaggerated when I called him a gentleman, but butchery is good, somber work. And you cannot be mistaken for a frivolous young woman when you’re helping your husband carve and sell meats.”
Leah continued staring.
Finally, her mother had the grace to look abashed. “I must admit, I did try to convince Lord Sommers that you would make a fine wife, but he wanted assurance that you could breed in order to take you on, and since you had no children with Ian—”
“I understand.” Thank God. For once, thank God she’d never borne a child. Lord Sommers was at least eighty years of age, with a bulbous nose and bulbous eyes and a neck that sagged to the middle of his chest. She might have had to endure Ian’s lovemaking, but at least she hadn’t been physically repulsed by him.
“Well? Do you agree that you must marry one of these men? Will you act in good faith when they come to call on you?”
Perhaps it was the frighteningly cheerful lilt of her mother’s voice, or simply that she’d observed too many of Adelaide’s schemes, but dread crept up Leah’s spine at the last of her questions. She didn’t know if she could do this. “And . . . when might they begin calling on me, Mother?”
Adelaide smiled. “Why, Mr. Grimmons is coming to dinner tonight, my dear.”
Sebastian lay on his stomach at the edge of the blanket, his elbows propping him up as he moved one of the yellow blocks to the fore of the castle. Of course, Henry had no idea it was a castle. To him, it was simply a pile of wooden blocks to be built up and then knocked down again when it became so high he couldn’t resist.
Reaching for a blue block, Sebastian locked eyes with Henry and smiled conspiratorially as he lodged this one at the top of the castle. With an answering grin, Henry stepped forward, wobbling a bit as his foot caught on a fold of the blanket, and swiped his arm against the structure, toppling it all but the two lowest sections. Sebastian lifted his arm in the air, and Henry mimicked him, turning in circles and crying out, “Again, Papa, again!”
For more than a fortnight they’d been in Hampshire at the Wriothesly estate. The countryside seemed to do Henry well. Every day, Sebastian would rescue him from his nurse after going over business with the steward, and they’d roam about the manor or the grounds.
They played hide-and-seek on the lower floor, where Sebastian chased Henry around and around the sofa in his study, pretending to lose his breath and hobbling like an old man. Where he listened to Henry giggle as he rounded the sofa again and caught Sebastian by his legs.
They went for walks over the meadows, Sebastian pointing out the various insects and flowers that Henry kept stopping to look at and touch. Sebastian even allowed Henry to sit on the pony he’d bought him for his second birthday. By the time Henry was five, he’d no doubt be jumping fences.
Yet even though Henry appeared to enjoy himself, and Sebastian did everything he could to amuse and distract him, in the evenings when they said their good nights Henry still wrapped his little arms around Sebastian’s neck. Clinging, he would ask in the hushed whisper his nurse taught him was used at bedtime, “When is Mama here?”
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