Page 54 of Wedding the Widow

After a long silence, during which Papa seemed to peer into her soul, he sighed. “She is right, Amelia.” He moved beside Mama, his hand gently resting on her shoulder. “I’ve told you time and again, my dear; you must find it in your heart to let this hatred go. Nothing at all is served by it, and it tears you to pieces each time you think of it.” He shifted his gaze to Elizabeth, clenched his jaw, then nodded. “Especially if Elizabeth is determined to marry Blackham’s son.”

Thank goodness, Papa had come around. He’d always taken her part in any conflict with Mama.

“I just don’t know if I can, Wentworth.” Mama sniffed into her handkerchief.

“You must try, Mama.” Elizabeth held her mother closer. “You must find a way to forgive Lord Blackham instead and help to persuade him to allow Jemmy and me to marry. If not, Jemmy will be cut off without a farthing until he turns thirty and inherits his mother’s money. It is not a long time, true, but we simply must wed well before his birthday in August.” They absolutely could not wait.

“His birthday is in August, you say?” Her father’s puzzled frown deepened. “Eight months is truly not the end of the world, Elizabeth. I know short betrothals are the fashion these days, but it is by no means an unreasonable time for an engagement. Have you given this due consideration?”

“Your father is correct, Elizabeth.” Wiping her face and fanning it with her limp handkerchief, Mama raised her gaze and nodded emphatically. “You can wait that short a time easily. You will stay with us, and Lord Brack can keep his bachelor rooms in Town and have a long, decorous courtship.”

“I am afraid we cannot wait, Mama.” Elizabeth sighed. This would not be easy. “In fact, waiting is quite out of the question.” She must write Jemmy at once, asking him to come to London and meet her family. Once he met them, Mama and Papa must love him as much as she did. They could be married from St. George’s and live here quietly at Worth House until he received his inheritance.

“What is the rush, my dear?” Frowning, Mama sniffed and added another lump to her tea.

Steeling her courage with a final sip of ice-cold tea, Elizabeth drew a deep breath. “The rush is to mask the fact, as best we can, that our child will be born a bit too soon after the wedding.” She stared into the shocked faces and stiffened her resolve. “Now, how can we get Lord Blackham to consent?”

Chapter 20

“Where is Hal?” Jemmy glanced around the breakfast room the next morning as he sat down to a plate of eggs and sausages. The table’s sole occupant was his father, who sat cracking the top off an egg with military precision.

“I have no idea.” Father waved away his second son. “The puppy wastes my money flitting from school to school, returns here for a day or two, then takes himself off God knows where. I should put a stop to it, withdraw his funds. But then he’d likely move in here permanently, and that I would not stand for. Let him disrupt someone else’s household.”

The top of the egg popped off, and Father methodically scraped the tiny scrap of meat onto his plate before discarding the shell.

“Sons can be so inconvenient.” Jemmy signaled the footman for coffee and tucked his napkin into his lap. Hal seemed to lead the charmed life.

“Quite.” His father sipped his tea, then resumed hollowing out his egg. “I have written to Buckleigh this morning about the settlements for Lady Maude. Once they are satisfactorily completed, we will proceed with the wedding plans.”

“What?” Startled by the outlandish suggestion, Jemmy narrowly missed spilling the coffee the footman had just set before him. Father had gone too far this time. “I told you, Father, I will not marry anyone other than Elizabeth Easton. I do not care that you will cut me off. Do your worst. In eight months, I will have Mother’s inheritance, and that will be an end of it.”

“I think you will marry Lady Maude without any fuss, my boy. You may have misjudged what my worst can be.”

A tickle of apprehension hit Jemmy right between his shoulder blades, the exact spot a knife might be inserted. True, his father was capable of cruelty, as witness his treatment of Georgie, but what more than cutting off his funds could the old man do? “I will take my chances.”

“Will you? I wonder.” Lord Blackham smiled, and Jemmy’s stomach roiled.

His father never smiled.

“You may find it interesting that I have also written to Lady Locke this morning.” A quick glance at Jemmy before he continued scraping industriously at the almost empty eggshell.

“You have been busy this morning, I see.” With an effort, Jemmy managed to maintain his nonchalance, though his mouth suddenly dried as though filled with sand. Lady Locke was the most notorious gossip in London. Whatever Father had written would be the talk of the ton hours after the lady read the contents of the letter. The woman had a cadre of gossipmongers at her command, ready to spread true tale or vicious rumor in an instant.

“You should not lie abed so late. You miss the best part of the day. The one thing I approve about your sister is her habit of rising and breakfasting early. She was here hours ago.” He stared pointedly at Jemmy. “I, too, am an early riser. I had just sat down to a cup of tea when Georgina appeared.”

Foreboding exploded into full-blown fear. Father’s intense stare, coming from that smug face, could only mean he thought he’d got the better of Jemmy. Pray God it wasn’t true.

“Your sister has always been a chatty creature, and while it is not a habit I approve, it did prove quite enlightening this morning.”

Swallowing to clear his throat, Jemmy’s tongue stuck to the roof of his otherwise dry mouth.

“She prattled on about the Countess of Wrotham’s wedding and happened to mention that the bride was in an interesting condition, despite the fact the wedding took place only a few days ago.”

Confused, yet wary still, Jemmy allowed himself to hope Georgie had been more discrete with Elizabeth’s similar condition.

“Her confession about Lady Wrotham meant nothing to me; however, it occurred to me that Mrs. Easton might very easily be in a similar situation. Young people have so little restraint these days.”

Fighting to maintain absolute control over his face, Jemmy tamped down the fear that would give him away, should it become evident to his father. “So unfortunate for you that she is not.” The lie came easily to his lips. To protect his beloved, he’d lie to God himself.