Page 9 of What a Widow Wants

“I think Charlotte’s idea is brilliant, don’t you, my dear? Summer house parties do incline people to be more adventuresome, at least in my experience.” Fanny shot Elizabeth a knowing grin, hoping to draw her out of her somber mood.

“I’m rather afraid I have little experience of them, Fanny. And I doubt I will be much of an asset to this one to come.” Her friend pried open her reticule and snatched out a handkerchief. “I’m more likely to be a watering pot than good company to Georgie’s brother.” She wiped her eyes, then fingered the small black lace edging. “She was a dear to suggest it, but I hope Lord Brack doesn’t come expecting an amiable companion. He will be in for a disappointment.”

“I sincerely doubt that, my dear. With your sweet nature you couldn’t disappoint anyone if you tried.” Persuading her friend to return to Society and the hunt for another husband would not be easy, it seemed. “You should give Charlotte’s scheme a chance, Elizabeth. The party is not to be held for some weeks. As you go out more in society, you will begin to feel differently.”

“What if I don’t want to feel differently, Fanny?” Tears cascaded down Elizabeth’s cheeks until she wiped them away with the handkerchief. “I loved Dickon and I still miss him so dreadfully.” She looked accusingly at Fanny. “Just because the year of mourning is over doesn’t mean my feelings have changed. Even if I wear bright clothes, they will still cover a broken heart.”

Lord, what must it be like to have loved a man so deeply? “Of course that is true, my dear. No one who knows you will think you have forgotten the lieutenant colonel. However, I doubt he would wish for you to mourn him forever. And Charlotte’s party may be the easiest way for you to begin to seek the companionship of gentlemen once more. You may wish, as Charlotte and Jane do, not to marry again. But don’t close every door that could lead to a change of heart.” Fanny squeezed her friend’s hands.

“Have you decided to marry again, Fanny?” Elizabeth asked, cocking her head.

“Not exactly, no. Why do you ask?”

“Well, you produced Lord Lathbury’s name so quickly when Charlotte asked for the gentlemen guests, I wondered.” Elizabeth managed a small, mischievous smile. “You said you renewed your acquaintance with him last night. What is he like?”

She’d never dreamed Elizabeth could turn the conversation expertly away from herself and fasten it uncomfortably on Fanny instead. She’d have sworn the woman didn’t have a devious bone in her body. “As I said at the gathering, he’s a Corinthian, always has been mad about sport of any kind. Hunting, shooting, racing, boxing. If it called for him to be outdoors, on a horse, or besting an opponent with his fists, Matthew enjoyed it.”

“Matthew?” Elizabeth’s eyebrows arched almost to her hairline.

“Yes,” Fanny sighed. The woman would have to know she and Matthew were something more than friends. “We’ve known one another for years, and we became very close the year of my come-out.”

“How close?” Elizabeth’s blue eyes bore straight into Fanny’s.

“Close enough for him to offer marriage.”

“He proposed?” Her eyes had rounded now. “And you refused him?”

“I was wild for Stephen.” Fanny turned away to stare out the window. “But after I married him, I . . . I couldn’t quite give up Matthew.”

“What?” Elizabeth gripped the edge of the seat, as if she feared she might fall off it.

“I don’t mean it that way. But Stephen and I were stationed close to London that first year, so I often came into Town to dances and parties. Matthew would dance with me and escort me about. It was all harmless, but we became very close friends because of it.”

“Did Lord Stephen think it harmless as well?”

“By then Lord Stephen was off pursuing his own less than harmless affairs.” Fanny tried to keep the anger out of her voice, but it was still difficult. “I doubt he gave my flirtation with Matthew a second thought, if he even heard about it. As I said, it was nothing really.”

“And do you now think it may become something?” Elizabeth leaned forward, her own sorrow clearly forgotten in her eagerness to hear Fanny’s plans.

“I believe so.”

“Oh Fanny, how wonderful! Do you think he may propose?”

“He did last night.”

Elizabeth’s audible gasp could have been given from the stage. Her eyes widened impossibly large and she clasped her chest as though her heart might attempt an escape. “He did! Fanny, how wonderful! Why did you not say a word to me and Charlotte and the others?”

“Because I did not accept him, Elizabeth.” Lord, her confession might not have been the most prudent thing to do. Yet, Elizabeth would need to know the truth if she was to be her companion, and look the other way when she met Matthew in Brighton.

“You refused Lord Lathbury again?” By her tone and dumbfounded look, Elizabeth clearly thought she had lost her senses.

“Given my experiences with Stephen for ten years, I believe I need time to be quite sure my next husband will treat our marriage vows as sacred ones.”

“Oh, Fanny, of course.” Elizabeth had shrunk back into the seat, her gaze on her lap. “I spoke without thinking. It is not a decision to be taken lightly, even if you are well acquainted with the gentleman.”

“Once. We were well acquainted once. However, last night was the first time I’d seen Matthew in almost seven years.” Although that time really made no difference. She knew Matthew from the top of his sleek black head to the bottoms of his brightly polished shoes. Unless given sufficient reason to do so, men didn’t change. God knew Stephen hadn’t in the ten years of their marriage. Matthew was the same now as then. Yet she still could not bring herself to accept him.

“So Charlotte’s party will give the two of you time to become friends again? That is a marvelous idea, Fanny. Will Lord Lathbury accept the invitation, do you think?” Elizabeth grasped her hand eagerly.