Page 16 of Wedding the Widow

“Tea, Mr. Fitzroy, if you please.” Fanny nodded to the short, rotund man who hurried toward them. “The Lapsang souchong. And a plate of cakes against the chill, I think.”

“Of course, my lady.” An amiable nod to Fanny, and Mr. Fitzroy bustled away.

“Now,” Fanny said, leaning forward to keep their conversation private. “Open your budget, Elizabeth. You’ve grown fond of Lord Brack, have you not?”

Swallowing painfully, as if she had ground glass in her throat, Elizabeth lowered her head and mumbled, “Yes.”

“Then what is the matter, my dear?” She grasped her friend’s hands. “Even if he hasn’t declared himself formally, I am quite certain he has a great deal of regard and affection for you.” Her smile made her blue eyes twinkle. “I could see that much in the dark and at a distance.”

“Oh, Fanny, it’s not that.” How could she make anyone understand her continuing love for Dickon? “I believe Lord Brack holds me in high esteem and perhaps even affection.” The memory of his passionate, hot body pressed against her naked flesh left no doubt of that whatsoever. The merest thought of that encounter at the festival turned her face red. “There is another impediment.”

“Impediment?” Her friend’s delicate eyebrows rose alarmingly. “What do you mean by that?”

Helplessly, Elizabeth stared at her, the events of that night replaying in her mind. The heat, the passion, the grand release that had sent her senses soaring until she had called him “Dickon.”

“Indeed?” Fanny’s perfectly arched eyebrows shot higher.

Elizabeth nodded, her stomach clenched, her gaze lowered as she traced a faint tear in the tablecloth. She simply couldn’t tell Fanny what had really happened. Didn’t want to think of it, much less speak about it to another person.

Although, perversely, Lady Stephen Tarkington might be the only woman of her acquaintance who would understand the circumstances and what had occurred that night. Her husband, Lord Stephen, had taken other women to his bed during their marriage. Such a practice was not unknown in their circles, but Stephen had been careless of it, and his wife had found out. So Fanny was much more a woman of the world than any of the others in their circle, save perhaps Jane. Maybe Fanny could tell her if such a humiliating experience was likely to be overcome. “I cannot stop thinking about Dickon.” She glanced at her hands, lying clenched in her lap. “Even when I’m with Lord Brack, I sometimes think of him.”

With a shrug, Fanny sat back, and Mr. Fitzroy set cups, a fine bone china teapot, and the plate of cakes in the center of the table. “There you are, my lady.” He carefully retreated.

Fanny added two lumps to her cup. “Milk?”

“Yes, please.” Elizabeth added one lump, then drank gratefully. The hot strong tea touched a soothing chord deep within her.

“That feeling will likely go away as soon as you have a new man in your bed.”

Elizabeth’s hand jerked, the hot tea splashing over the rim into the saucer. “Fanny!”

“Don’t be so missish, my dear. You are no stranger to the pleasures of the marriage bed any more than I.” A self-satisfied smirk crept over Fanny’s face. “You did your duty to Lieutenant Colonel Easton and mourned him properly. So your grieving should be past and done. He would not want you to linger in your sadness, but would wish you a new companion who could give you that physical joy again.”

“So you believe Lord Stephen is smiling down upon you and the Earl of Lathbury?” Elizabeth couldn’t help her arch tone. Fanny and Lathbury’s affair had been the subject of many of the ton’s on-dits since Lady Beaumont’s masquerade ball last June.

“Stephen lost all rights to complain about my behavior with Lathbury—or any other man, come to that—long before he died.” Fanny squeezed the white napkin in her lap until her knuckles looked as though the bones would break through the skin. “I hope he looks down on Ella, and me, and Lathbury quite often.”

“How has Ella coped with her father’s death?” Fanny seldom spoke of her daughter. So much so that Elizabeth often forgot her friend had a child at all.

“As well as can be expected when she scarcely knew she had a father.” The bitter words set Elizabeth’s teeth on edge.

“Oh, Fanny.”

“Stephen was a neglectful husband and father. Everyone knew that. However, Ella was quite taken with Lord Lathbury when he came to call. So perhaps she is capable of affection toward a . . . father figure.” An odd, worried frown creased Fanny’s brow.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it, my dear?” Elizabeth paused to sip her tea and contemplate Fanny’s puzzling expression. “If, of course, you are serious about his lordship. It is good that she seems ready to accept another man in her father’s place.”

Fanny shook herself, as if coming out of a reverie. “Yes, of course it is.” Her face settled into pleasant lines once more. “Have you spoken to the twins about the possibility of your marrying again?”

With a sigh, Elizabeth poured another cup of tea and selected one of the pink sugar cakes. “Yes, and they were not happy with the suggestion.” Their pinched, woebegone faces came instantly to mind. “They don’t want another papa.”

Her friend waved the objection away with a careless hand. “They are about the same age as Ella, are they not?”

“Maybe some months younger.”

“Then they will come to accept it.” Fanny shrugged. “They need not love the man, but if they respect him as a father, that should suffice. And if they see you are happier with him than without, they will be content. Losing a father at such a young age means they will remember little as they grow older. Another man in the house will seem natural and give them the stability they need.” She gave Elizabeth a long look. “It will also give you a firmer place in society from which to launch them when they are older.”

Sipping thoughtfully, Elizabeth pondered Fanny’s words. It might sound like good advice when spoken of fleetingly in a tea shop, but she feared her friend simplified the very serious matter of bringing a new man into their lives. Then of course, there were her particular circumstances with Lord Brack. Would she ever be able to forget that horribly embarrassing scene? “I suppose I will simply wait and see what happens when and if we meet at Charlotte’s wedding.”