The Wanton Widow - A Regency Novella (3 page)

“
I did!” he insisted. “I do! I love you!”

“
Liar!” she accused him. “It is infatuation, perhaps, but you couldn't possibly love me!”

“
But you're so very easy to love.”

Philip started removing her clothes once again, but before he could get very far, there was a knock on the door. Philip, who had his fingers tangled in the strings of her bodice, erupted with a massive groan.

“
Who is it?!” he called out.

“
Wilkes, my lord
,” the butler shouted at him through the door. “
You have a visitor
.”

“
Damn...” Philip hissed, for Willow's ears only. “Damn, damn, damn.” He dislodged his fingers, rolled out of bed, and collected his clothing, which prompted Willow to follow suit.

“
Are you expecting someone?” she whispered to her lover.

“
Yes. A friend of mine.” Philip turned his gaze to the door and exclaimed, “Wilkes, are you still there?”

“
Yes, my lord
.”

“
Please show Ed to one of the sitting rooms. I will be down there shortly!” As he shouted to the butler, he haphazardly attempted to tie his cravat.

“
Ed? Who is Ed?”

“
Edward Harcourt. To be honest, I'm not even sure why we're friends, seeing as we have nothing in common,” Philip said with a sigh.

“
Will I get to meet him?”

“
You want to meet him!?” Philip shoved his feet into a pair of boots and checked his appearance in the looking glass. His hair was a mess, so he made an attempt to tidy it. “Are you certain of that? If he sees you here, he will know you are my mistress.”

“
And you think I should have a problem with that?” When she had donned her gown, she went to Philip's side and took his arm. “Do I seem like the sort of woman who would fret about my reputation?”

“
Come to think of it... no.”

“
Then let us meet with Ed. Together.”

* * *

When Edward saw his friend enter the sitting room with a woman on his arm, his eyebrows shot to his forehead.

“
Wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-who...?”

Philip started chuckling when he heard his friend stutter. He lowered himself to the settee and patted his lap, so Willow sat on his knee. “I should have warned you about Ed, dear. His tongue has a tendency to butcher every word that comes out of his mouth.”

“
You mean he has a stammer?” Willow asked, conversing about the other man as if he wasn't sitting across from them.

“
Indeed. And a dreadful one at that.” So his friend wouldn't get offended, Philip met Edward's gaze and flashed a smile. “But I mean no offense, my young friend.”

“
N-n-none taken.”

“
Actually, I think it can be quite endearing!” Philip continued. “What do you think, minx? Do you think it is endearing?”

For the first time, Willow locked eyes with Edward. She soaked in his appearance, though it was hardly worthy of note. He was dressed rather simply, in scuffed boots and a faded brown greatcoat. He had long, awkward legs and strange, duck-like lips. When he was in the same room as Philip, it was like comparing an ugly duckling to a swan.

“
Well...” Willow finally spoke, “I think a stammer would probably denote shyness, and shyness is always an endearing quality in a man.” She smiled at the boy sitting across from her—and a
boy
he most certainly was! He looked all of nineteen or twenty.

“
I am shy,” Edward confessed, speaking clearly for once. Of course, his tongue's clarity didn't last. “S-so, Phil, who is the lady?”

“
This is Ms. Wilomena Worthington.” As he introduced her, Philip ran a hand through her hair, which was spilling over her shoulders. Her wild hair, which was hardly suitable for the company of gentlemen, was a bit scandalous. “She is a widow... and she is my mistress.”

“
I gathered as much,” Edward said. He watched her toss her hair over her shoulder, which put her low-cut gown on display. The sight of the beautiful woman's decolletage was guaranteed to make him stutter for the rest of the night. “I-I'm E-Edward Harcourt,” he introduced himself. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Worthington.”

“
Please, call me Willow.”

Edward shook his head. “I'm not sure that would be p-proper.”

“
Well, we're hardly in a situation that demands propriety, Edward,” Willow said, his given name rolling off her tongue like it was second nature. “Should I call you Edward or Ed?”

“
E-E...” He squinted his eyes as he tried to overcome his stutter. “Edward would be fine. Or Mr. Harcourt.”

Willow tilted her head as she observed their visitor, which meant her neck was completely exposed to Philip's kisses. When his mouth landed on her shoulder, she gave his head a gentle push. “Not now! Now while Edward is here!” she chided him.

“
Aww... and why not?” Philip whined. “Edward is a big boy. I'm sure he doesn't mind if I kiss you.”

Edward started eyeing the door. He was starting to feel like an invader, intruding on their private moment. But it wasn't as if his visit was unexpected. Philip had invited him last week—which was, apparently, prior to the arrival of Wilomena Worthington.

“
A big boy...” Wilomena repeated with a chuckle. “And just how old is your friend? He looks quite young.”

“
He
is
quite young,” Philip agreed. “How old are you, Ed? Four and twenty?”

When she saw the younger man nod, Willow's eyes widened. “Oh, really? I actually thought you were a bit younger than that. You're nearly the same age as me!”

“
I do look p-perpetually youthful,” Edward agreed, frowning. When he saw Philip nibbling on the widow's neck, he rose from his chair and asked, “Should I excuse myself?”

“
No... of course not!” Philip exclaimed. “If you stay, I promise I won't be so amorous with the lady... although, I must admit, she is
very
difficult to resist.”

“
She is v-very pr-pretty. You're a very lucky man.”

Edward's compliment broadened her smile. His stutter, his pitiful eyes, his sweet voice—everything about his timidly delivered compliment was completely and utterly adorable.

“
She's
the lucky one,” Philip countered, which had his lady love swatting him on the shoulder. “Now, Ed, will you be staying for supper?”

“
I... don't know.”

“
Yes, you
must
stay. I will not take no for an answer.” As he spoke, Philip coiled an arm around Willow's waist and gave her a gentle squeeze. “If you don't stay, I won't have anyone to tease. And let's face it, Ed.” Philip flashed a dimpled smile. “You are so very fun to tease.”

Chapter Four

“
Have you seen Miss Abrahms recently?”

The cooks delivered the first course, a thick stew. Edward tried to ignore his friend's question; he just stared into the broth.

“
Uh... Miss Abrahms?”

“
You aren't fooling me with your mock oblivion,” Philip said with a chuckle. “There is only one Miss Abrahms who matters in your world.”

“
Sh-she...” Edward's voice trailed off for a moment. His eyes were drawn to Wilomena, who was blowing on a spoonful of soup in an attempt to cool it. “I saw her two days ago. At a ball.”

“
Oh? And did you have any success?” Philip asked. “Have you swept her off her feet? Are you giving her a proper wooing?” Grinning, he glanced at Willow, but she looked lost.

“
W-we... spoke,” Edward said. “We danced, and I tr-tread all over her feet.”

“
Ouch. The poor girl.” Philip shoved a heaping spoonful of potato and beef into his mouth.

“
And, a-as you know, I cannot string together a simple thought. Whatever you m-might think, m-my stutter is hardly en-endearing. I'm sure it does nothing to impress Miss Abrahms.”

“
Who is Miss Abrahms?” Willow asked, though her entry into the conversation was a bit delayed.

“
She is the Guinevere to Ed's Arthur, the Isolde to his Tristan,” Philip said.

“
The Romeo to his Juliet?” Willow added with a smile. “Well, let us hope that is not the case, as they both ended up dead by the end of the play.”

Philip leaned toward the widow and kissed her on the nose, which made Edward avert his gaze.

“
Miss Abrahms, as it happens, is an incomparable,” Philip explained, turning his attention back to his food. “And our boy Ed has set his cap on her.”

“
I have n-no chance with her whatsoever. I am completely aware of that unf-fortunate fact,” Edward said.

“
Aww! And why would you say that, Mr. Harcourt?” Willow objected. “You seem like a nice young man. You have a pleasant disposition and a friendly face.”

“
She will not choose me over her horde of suitors because I have a fr-friendly face.”

“
And
you have lovely green eyes,” Willow added, which earned her a disapproving stare from the earl at her side. “They're very piercing. It's like they see right to your soul.”

When their eyes met, Edward flashed a smirk at Willow. “R-really?”

“
Yes. You have very alluring eyes. In fact, it was the first thing I noticed.”

“
Apart from the stutter?” Philip asked with a chuckle.

Willow ignored Philip's remark and continued. “They're very pale... pale green eyes. I've never seen anything quite like them.”

“
Y-you have nice eyes too, Miss Worthington,” Edward said. “They almost look like--”

“
She does have beautiful eyes,” Philip interrupted. “They're lovely, just as every inch of her is lovely.” He leaned toward the widow and kissed her neck.

He was tickling her nape, so Willow shoved his face away from her. “Oh my. I can't remember the last time I've been called
Miss
Anything! Please, I must insist you call me Willow.”

“
Very well. Willow,” Edward corrected himself.

The cook returned with the second course, which consisted of roast beef and cooked carrots. Willow, who was a great fan of carrots, immediately skewered one and shoved it into her mouth. It was surely improper, the way she gobbled her food. At the moment, however, she did not think her present company would judge her.

That is, until Philip said, “Darling, you eat like a pig.”

“
I do?” She responded to his criticism by shoving a second carrot into her mouth, which made her cheeks expand like a squirrel's.

“
You do. Like a veritable sow!” Philip unabashedly brushed a hand across her stomach. “Fortunately, devouring food is the only trait you share with a pig. You're quite slender.”

Willow extracted his hand from her stomach and placed it on the table. She wasn't too thrilled to have his hands on her when they were in the company of another man.

“
Hopefully not
too
slender. I would want to look healthy,” Willow said. “What do you think, Edward? Do you think I am too slender?”

“
N-no. I think you have a fine figure, Willow,” Edward said. “A fine figure indeed.”

“
Alas, our dear friend Edward is hardly an expert when it comes to female bodies. Edward is a--”

Before Philip could complete his thought, Edward kicked him under the table. He kicked him so hard, it jarred the table, and a bit of wine splashed out of Willow's cup.

“
He is a
what
?” she pressed.

“
He's never been with a woman before,” Philip finished, ignoring the look of desperation on his friend's pleading face. “And at his age too! It's quite pitiful, really.”

Edward's lower lip sagged. “Yes, yes. You can t-tease me all you would like. I already know how pitiful I am. It's n-n-nothing I haven't heard before.”

“
He's never known what it's like to have a woman lying in his arms...” As Philip went on, a hint of mischief flashed in his eyes. “He's never known a woman's touch... a woman's breasts... a woman's...”

Willow balled a fist and slammed it into her lover's arm. It seemed to do the trick, as he immediately stopped talking.

“
Well, I think it is sweet,” Willow said, hoping to make the younger man feel better about his virginal status. “A woman is expected to wait until marriage, is she not? Why should something else be expected of a man?”

Edward nodded his head in agreement, but Philip was clicking his tongue in disapproval.

“
It isn't natural for a man to wait. By the time he is fifteen, his loins are practically erupting!” Philip exclaimed. “I don't know how you've managed to hold out as long as you have, Ed!”

“
It really isn't so difficult,” Edward said.

“
Have you even kissed a woman?” Philip asked.

“
No.”

“
Good god, at least tell me you've held a woman in a warm embrace!”

“
My m-mother,” Edward said with a chuckle. “Does that count?”

Willow puffed out her chest as she gave her opinion. “Well, I think Miss Abrahms, whomever she is, would be very lucky to have you!”

“
The fact of the matter is, we should not even be having this discussion, seeing as the lady in question
won't
have me. She deserves a far better man than me. I am not rich, I'm not handsome, nor could I engage her in proper discourse!”

Willow smiled. He had spoken several sentences, and he didn't stutter once. Surely his stammer was something he could overcome? “And why not? Are we not engaging in proper discourse right now?”