Page 32 of Never Tempt a Widow

Chapter Sixteen

“Seraphina. If you won’t come out for me, then come out for Edgar. He needs you.” Rowland’s voice came through the locked door of Fina’s bedchamber.

She wiped the tears from her eyes—her whole face now burned from weeping. Dundas had found her, and everything was in ruins. Her response had been foolish, to say the least, threatening Dundas with a paper-knife, refusing to speak to Rowland, and locking herself in her room. She was heartily ashamed—her new husband deserved better. But could she really bring herself to face him?

Then there was Edgar. She needed to see Edgar. She was desperate to see Edgar. And to do that, she would have to get past the man who had taken up station outside her door for the last hour.

Rowland had already told her that he’d heard everything. He’d said little more, except for expressing his desire not to have an all-out battle with his wife, no matter how entertaining the servants might find it. She’d heard the scrape of a chair and then his voice coming softly through the keyhole, announcing, “I mean to sit here, Fina, until you’re prepared to talk to me. I’ll spend the night here if I have to. Don’t be afraid—I’m not going to eat you. But neither do I intend to have a conversation through an oval of polished metal.”

She sniffed and dabbed at her face with her handkerchief. Her body felt leaden as she heaved herself off the bed and went to the door. Pressing her cheek against it, she pictured Rowland on the other side—Rowland, the full-blooded, gloriously-endowed master of her body and her passions. Rowland, who’d given her a roof over her head, security, and a child to love.

Rowland. The man whose future she had cast into jeopardy.

“Rowland? Are you still there?”

She heard a rustle beyond the door, then felt it push beneath her fingers. He was doing the same on the other side, pressing against it. When he spoke, it was almost as if he were talking right into her ear.

“Of course, I’m here. If you don’t know that I’m a man of my word by now—”

“I’d like to see Edgar. Perhaps we can talk afterwards.” Her heart thundered as she waited for his response.

“Agreed. We’ll go together and put on a good face for the servants.”

“What about Felix?” Had Rowland exposed her secrets to his brother-in-law? It would make life difficult if he had, as Felix had no love for her. She couldn’t blame the man—she had, after all, replaced his sister under false pretences.

Another pause. Rowland’s voice sounded flat when he replied, “I sent Felix away. You don’t need to worry about him for the time being.”

Well, that was something, at least. She daubed her face again, straightened her skirts, and unlocked the bedchamber door.

Her heart clenched as she gazed at her husband. He looked shaken, as well he might. But there was something else there, which made hope flutter in her breast. He took her arm, firm, commanding, and escorted her without speaking towards the nursery. Mrs Sage was dismissed, and Rowland bent to pick up Edgar and cradle him in his arms. The little boy plucked a strand of his papa’s hair loose from its binding, and Rowland growled softly, then laughed at his son.

Fina’s knees weakened. That smile, the love that flared in his eyes—was there any hope they might ever flare thus for her? And if they did, would she deserve it? It was just impossible to work out what to do. Perhaps an apology would be a good place to start.

“Rowland—” She took a step towards him. He hefted Edgar in his arms, then handed the child to her, saying, “Give your mama a cuddle, Edgar. I believe she needs it.”

Holding the little boy eased the ache inside her, but not enough.

“Rowland. I want to apologise—”

“We’ll take a glass of brandy in my study. But first of all, I think that Edgar might enjoy being tickled.” He seized his son back and held him high in the air, then laid the boy back in his cradle and tickled him mercilessly until the child began to flag.

Fina intervened. “Let Nurse look after him now. If Edgar gets too tired, he’ll be screaming all night long.”

Rowland looked up. “Indeed. As we both know, his bellow is loud enough to be heard in our room.” The ghost of a smile crossed his face as he stood up and rang the bell for Mrs Sage. “Come, Wife. Let us go and have our difficult conversation. But we must not forget that we are parents to Edgar first and foremost and that his best interests rank above our own.”

Hope blossomed anew as her husband held the door open, and Fina felt once again that incredible physical pull of attraction as she walked past him and out into the passageway.

She quivered as the study door closed behind them. Her nerves were in tatters, but what he’d just said about Edgar had raised a faint hope. She lifted her eyes to Rowland’s.

His handsome face was grave. “Why did you not tell me that you thought that man Reedman meant to murder you?”

Her head went up. This was not what she’d expected to be taken to task about.

“I’m sorry I never told you that I went with him willingly—”

He cut her off with a wave of the hand. “You have been living in fear of your life. Little wonder you wanted security and protection, but could you not have found it in yourself to explain to me why?”

“I was so ashamed—of everything. And I scarcely wanted to believe myself that my lover intended to kill me. Now, I think that my fears were groundless.”