Page 10 of Wedding the Widow

Mrs. Elizabeth Easton

Wanting nothing more than to crumple the letter into a ball and pitch it into the fireplace with an oath that would singe his sister’s ears, Jemmy instead breathed slowly through his nose and eased his death grip on the letter. His gaze fell again on her final sentence.

Thank you for all your many kindnesses to me . . .

Could he do her one more kindness and let her go?

If he chose, he could easily call attention to their tryst here. Everyone loved gossip, and Elizabeth’s hasty departure would raise eyebrows if he were to drop a judicious hint or two to Lathbury down here, or even better to Lady Locke, the ton’s biggest scandalmonger in London. Widows could be compromised and forced to marry if their behavior became blatant, and she’d be expected to marry him, whether she wished to or not. The thought tantalized him, but he could not pursue it. He’d not force a woman to marry him, not even one he desperately wanted. No, he must do her that last kindness and create a reason for her precipitous flight.

He raised his gaze from the letter to the sharp green eyes of his sister, who had apparently eaten the entire orange and now turned her full attention on him, blast his luck.

“Well?” Georgie’s eyebrows swooped upward.

“Well, what?” He must stall for enough time to come up with a plausible reason for Elizabeth to return to London so swiftly, before the party had officially broken up. Anything would do, except the truth.

“Well, did she say why she left so suddenly? Really, Jemmy, you can be such a chucklehead.” Her green-eyed gaze had gone icy cold.

He longed to tell her the truth, to ask her advice on how to win Elizabeth, but that would certainly never do. Even though Georgie had been married, she was still his youngest sister, and he wasn’t about to discuss such things with her. “She says only that she wished to go home to see the children.” Such a sentiment seemed the most plausible excuse for Elizabeth. He breathed a sigh of relief, congratulating himself for devising the perfect explanation.

“There’s nothing wrong with the children, is there?” Georgie grabbed his arm hard enough to make him wince. “She didn’t receive a message in the night telling her to go home?” His sister fastened her gaze on the letter, and her hands shook.

He folded the piece of paper and stuffed it into his pocket before she could snatch it out of his hands. “No, nothing is wrong . . .” He cast his mind about, thinking swiftly. “Last night she told me she’d been missing them dreadfully.” She’d been missing her husband dreadfully at least. “I suppose she decided in the night that she simply must see them.” He stared at the plate of food, which had grown cold, and pushed it aside. No matter. A bite of anything would choke him.

Georgie sat back in her chair and released his arm with a little shake. “I suppose I can understand that.” She slumped in her chair. “But I will miss her terribly. She is such a good friend to me, Jemmy. You have no idea.”

He patted her hand. “I believe I do, my dear. She is a lovely woman, and I shall miss her company as well.”

A footman in blue and gold livery had been hovering by the door for some minutes.

“Coffee, please, Robert.” That he would welcome. He pushed his plate farther away and grimaced.

“Aren’t you going to eat, Jemmy?” Georgie narrowed her eyes, her lips pursed in displeasure. “Don’t let Elizabeth’s departure spoil the rest of your visit.” She tried to smile, but her mouth drooped. “We must make the most of our last few days together and be merry while we may.”

“You are right, my dear.” Chastened, Jemmy pulled his spirits out of the slough of despond into which they had been sliding ever since he had opened the letter. Georgie was right. He might not see her for some time to come after the house party broke up. He patted her hand, determined to be cheerful for her sake. “We shall continue to enjoy our visit, no matter what else has happened. Although I daresay Lady Cavendish would not be averse to having me down for the Christmas season, if you asked her.” He usually spent the holiday in London but could manage several days here to be with Georgie. “I’m sure we could arrange for a lark or two then as well.” As long as Father didn’t catch on to why he kept going into Kent.

“But I won’t be here, Jemmy, that’s the thing.” Georgie fiddled with her teacup, running her finger around the rim, producing a faint ringing sound. “After Charlotte and Nash wed, she will, of course, remove to Wrotham Park.” Her eyes closed, and she bit her lip. “I cannot stay here.”

“I’m sorry, Georgie, I hadn’t realized.” Her words startled him badly. Georgie had been so happy here. For her to have to return to her sister-in-law’s house, where she was grudgingly welcomed and badly treated, would be intolerable for his sensitive sister. “Do you think Lady Cavendish would allow you to stay on for a while?”

He’d barely gotten the sentence out before Georgie started shaking her head, wisps of curls bobbing alongside her face. “I could not impose myself so, Jemmy. Charlotte has been too kind to me these many months. I would not ask such a thing of her, even if it were possible. I could not stay here without a companion, and I know of no one I could ask.”

“I could hire a companion for you.” That would work if only Father didn’t find out. He currently lived off his inheritance from his mother, but Father would likely make life unpleasant for him if he found out he was helping Georgina after she’d been disowned for marrying against Father’s wishes.

“Charlotte means to close the house and combine the households. I couldn’t ask her to keep it running just for me.” Head bowed to avoid his eyes, she continued to fidget with the cup in front of her.

Robert entered and poured his coffee, giving Jemmy time to think in silence until the footman left.

“It’s a pity Aunt Fern is abroad in India. You could easily have stayed with her. What about the other ladies of your circle? Might you visit one of them for a time?” Not a very likely prospect; her friends were all widows, most with very limited circumstances.

“They are in situations perhaps not quite as dire as mine, but nearly so,” Georgie confirmed his fears. “Elizabeth has the children and lives with her parents. Fanny lives with her brother-in-law, the Marquess of Theale. Jane has been a companion to Charlotte this past year, but she’ll likely return to Theale’s as well when Charlotte marries. Her late husband was the marquess’s brother.” She sighed, twitched her shoulders, and tried to smile at him. “I shall simply have to return to Mrs. Reynolds and the Kirkpatricks.” She tugged on her bottom lip once more. “As long as I can make myself useful, she won’t mind much.”

The misery on his sister’s face smote Jemmy’s heart. Damn, but Father’s decree had hurt her much more than the deed warranted. “You know I’d provide a place for you if Father allowed it, don’t you, Georgie?”

“It’s not your fault.” She patted his elbow. “I disobeyed him by marrying Isaac. I knew the consequences, but I didn’t care,” she said, gazing at him fiercely. “I would do it again without a moment’s thought to be with the man I loved.”

She would, too. Jemmy absolutely had no doubt of that. He’d sneaked off to the parsonage to see Georgie married to the vicar’s son, a regular chap who anyone could have seen adored Georgie. The glowing happiness on his sister’s face as she spoke her vows in the crowded little room would remain with him forever. It hadn’t been the brilliant match his father had wanted for his youngest daughter, but it had been a love match so obvious anyone could see it. Now, with Kirkpatrick dead at Waterloo, Jemmy wondered if Georgie would ever agree to marry again.

“Let me speak to Father, Georgie. Perhaps enough time has passed that he will allow you to return home.” Unfortunately, such a reversal would likely come with a price—a marriage of Father’s choosing—but it was the best offer he could make her. If he tried to set her up on an estate or in a modest house in London, Father had threatened to revoke all his funds. Although he lived off his inheritance, his father would be administrator of the trust until Jemmy reached the age of thirty. It was now less than a year until he would be free of the restraint, but they’d both be homeless if he displeased his father before that time.