Page 37 of Never Tempt a Widow

Chapter Eighteen

June had arrived, and with it, a time of much industry around the estate and on the farm. Fina saw less of her husband than she would have liked and nursed a fear that he was avoiding her. They’d carried on sharing a bed and continued to enjoy each other’s bodies—Rowland’s love-making was sublime. But their daily conversation centred on the practical and the mundane. No words of love were spoken, and it was hard to tell what he was thinking. That he was worried about something was evident—she was anxious herself. But what if their fears did not coincide?

She was uneasy, frightened of what Dundas might do next. But Rowland might be dwelling on something even more alarming—maybe he regretted having married her and wanted to put her aside. Or maybe her scandalous past was eroding the affection that he’d shown to her.

This morning, her husband had headed off to the home farm to see how the haymaking was progressing and she, needing to escape the confines of the house, was in the kitchen garden, planning where to dig her hotbeds. Edgar dozed on a rug on a patch of camomile lawn while Clary Sage sat nearby, doing cut-work embroidery on some baby clothes. To the casual observer, they must have made an idyllic picture, but Fina’s nerves were in tatters—she jumped whenever she heard the sound of hooves or wheels on the gravel, terrified it would be Dundas, come back to ruin her life.

Getting to her feet, she wandered around the garden, relishing the scent of rosemary on the warm air and the soothing hum of the bees amongst the marigolds. The sight of flourishing plants delighted her, and helped her to forget the grim reality of Dundas’ perfidy. It would be a long time, however, before she could completely erase the memory of the waters of the Severn closing over her head, or the sight of Adelina’s cold, pale body.

Rowland’s love-making helped her exorcise these memories. In fact, he could make her forget everything—when he wanted to. And he seemed to want to—regularly. Maybe, if there was a child, their marriage would be safe. Perhaps the longer Dundas remained silent, the less likely he was to endanger her happiness. One day, Rowland might be prepared to give her his heart.

These optimistic musings were brought to a sudden halt by the sound of carriage wheels on the drive.

Carriage wheels? They weren’t expecting visitors, were they? Unless the Hanleys had decided to come calling unannounced. Surely not—Rowland had told her that he thought things had cooled between himself and Lord Hanley.

Then she heard a familiar voice. Felix! Alas—she could have done without his return at a time when relations between herself and Rowland were so fragile.

Sighing, she brushed down her skirts, gave instructions to Mrs Sage to take Edgar in before it got too hot, and went to greet her brother-in-law. Only to freeze in her tracks when she recognised the vehicle from which Felix had just alighted.

It was the Duke of Wolfingham’s travelling coach.

All the breath went out of her. She swayed, and would have fallen, had Felix not rushed over to support her. She stared at the coach, speechless, as a dusty-looking tiger descended, opened the vehicle’s door, and pulled the steps down.

“Felix! How could you do this?” she hissed. Now, she must face a hideous contretemps with her parents—and Rowland wasn’t here to support her.

“It’s all right, Seraphina—I promise. Forgive me for the way I’ve treated you. This will all turn out for the best—just be patient.”

Felix’s grip on her arm meant there was no escaping this long-dreaded meeting. As the familiar figure e of the duchess descended the steps, Fina bit her lip and blinked the tears from her eyes. She must stand up to them—she must. She was Lady Cavendish now, no mere child to be scolded by her mother.

“Oh, Fina—we’ve been so worried! We’ve been scouring the country for you, and lost all hope. But now you are found!”

Fina could hardly believe her ears as her mama hurried towards her and enfolded her in her arms. Felix stepped away, grinning from ear to ear. She had barely got over her astonishment before the performance was repeated by her father.

“My darling daughter, what a time you have had of it. You cannot imagine how pleased I am to see you hale and hearty after your ordeal! I did everything I could but he was more cunning than fox. How did you manage to get free of that deuced scoundrel?”

Her heart jumped about madly, and she felt weak with shock.

Hale and hearty? Did they know she’d been ill? How did they know?

Felix took her arm. “Explanations will be made forthwith. But for now, if your parents would care to accompany us indoors, we may take our ease and enjoy some refreshment. It has been a hot and anxious journey.”

“But well worth the making, Ainsworth.” Her father stepped back, motioning her and Felix to enter the house in front of him.

Felix was all smiles as he handed his hat to an astonished-looking maid and deposited Fina in the drawing room, taking it upon himself to ring for Jacob.

“I’ll ensure that the duke and duchess are comfortable and have some rooms made up for them, shall I?” He patted Fina’s hand. “You’re overwhelmed, I can see. My apologies for that, but I saw no point in sending a message—as soon as I told them where you were to be found, they insisted on coming immediately. Had your papa not put his foot down, both your sisters would be here, too.”

Fina sucked in a few deep breaths. She must control herself, act the lady of the manor, and pull her dignity around her like a protective cloak. Awkward questions would be asked, and painful memories awakened when her parents came back downstairs—she would need all the sang froid she could muster. But curiosity made her determined—why were her parents not furious with her for eloping?

“Felix—will you see that Rowland is informed immediately? Make sure he has time to prepare himself for what could be an unpleasant scene.”

“Not a bit of it.” He winked at her. “All will be well—you’ll see. I’ll fetch him and get some tea sent in. Although, you may need something stronger.”

With a swish of his long-skirted coat, he was gone from the room, leaving her staring at a small porcelain figurine of a cupid, her mind in a whirl.

She’d never paid any attention to the statuette before, but by the time the duke and duchess returned to the room, she was familiar with every detail of the piece. Her thoughts were no clearer, however.

“Seraphina.” Mama waited until Jacob had brought a chair closer, then settled herself into it, patting her on the arm.