The Enigma of a Widow Page 21
At the sound of his mother’s voice, Jasper gurgled and attempted to turn in her direction.
“Your son was in bed with us because he refused to go back to sleep at three o’clock in the morning,” Lydia countered, suppressing a yawn as she put voice to her gentle complaint.
Adonis plucked the boy from his perch on his boot and lifted him over his head, sending the boy into another fit of giggles. “I rather adore that sound, don’t you?” Adonis asked as he slowly lowered the babe and then sent him back up again to giggle some more.
Lydia nodded. “I do,” she agreed with a grin. “Are you two going to keep each other company whilst I go to Whitehall today?” she asked as she stepped out of the bed to join the men in her life on the lounging chair.
“We are. It will be warm enough for a walk, don’t you suppose?”
“Finally,” Lydia agreed. “What in the world do you have him wearing?” she asked as she plucked at the scarf.
“My scarf. I bought it two days before I met you,” Adonis replied. “June thirteenth.” He didn’t add that he could hardly remember much of anything else that had happened that day, but he could certainly remember everything since the day he had met Lydia.
She stared at her husband for a moment. “You wore it to the theatre,” she remembered.
“Hmm,” he agreed. “Almost as warm as you, which is why I thought it might keep him cozy until we could get him into a proper gown and a blanket,” he murmured as he gave up his hold on the babe when Jasper insisted he wanted to be on his mother’s lap.
“What are your plans today?” Lydia asked as she positioned Jasper in her arms. The babe promptly used a chubby fist to pull down the neckline of her nightrail and latched onto a breast.
Adonis suppressed the urge to admonish the babe. I at least ask permission first, he thought before redirecting his attention to Lydia. “After a walk through the back gardens, we’re going to pick some tulips for the hall table, and then we’ll be off to meet with the Chamberlains for supper at the Crown and Anchor.”
Lydia stared at her husband a moment, a bit surprised at hearing his itinerary for the day. “You’re taking the baby?”
Adonis nodded. “Lady Chamberlain is coming along and insisted I bring Jasper. Says she hasn’t held a babe in years and wants the experience,” he added with an arched brow.
Having seen the viscountess just the day before at tea, Lydia knew exactly why the woman wanted the experience. Lydia was quite sure Caroline Fitzsimmons was with child. Given the amount of time Lydia spent at the Foreign Office, she knew Matthew Fitzsimmons hadn’t yet been made aware he would be a father anytime soon. Instead, he had made mention of a plan to be gone from the Foreign Office for an entire month. He, Caroline, and their niece, Samantha, were scheduled to take a holiday to Italy in June.
Perhaps Caroline intended to tell him whilst they were in Europe.
One of Adonis’ hands waved in front of her face. She glanced over at him, a grin widening as she did so.
“Where were you just then?” Adonis teased.
“You cannot say a word to Chamberlain about it,” Lydia said as she hugged her son close, his heavy eyes suggesting he was about to go to sleep. “Promise me, my love—”
“I promise.”
“I am very certain there is a baby in Lady Chamberlain’s future.”
Adonis’ eyes widened before a smile broke out on his face. He nearly laughed before he suddenly sobered. “Dammit, my lady, but how am I supposed to keep such important intelligence from Lord Chamberlain?” he asked in astonishment. “Especially when I’m having supper with him today?”
Lydia gave a shrug. “Think of it as a secret, dear heart,” she countered. “One only you and I are in on.”
Leaning over to kiss her on the cheek, Adonis sighed. “Keeping secrets was far easier before I married,” he accused. “Back then, I didn’t have anyone to share them with except for Chamberlain.”
Handing the sleeping babe back to him, Lydia whispered. “You can tell Jasper. He won’t tell a soul,” she replied with a grin.
With that, she got up to get dressed.
Excerpt
Read on for an except from the next book in “The Widows of the Aristocracy” series
The Secret of a Viscount
Late June 6, 1818, during Lord Weatherstone’s ball
“Good God, man!” David Carlington, Marquess of Morganfield, shouted when he discovered he wasn’t alone in Lord Weatherstone’s library. “You nearly frightened me to death.”
He hadn’t expected to be alone—he had arranged a liaison with his wife—but he didn’t expect to find Godfrey Thorncastle seemingly deep in his cups and ensconced in the the middle of the long divan David had planned to use as part of his liaison.
The fellow aristocrat acknowledged the marquess’ entrance but didn’t get to his feet. “I suppose I should have put the ‘Occupied’ sign out on the door knob,” Godfrey replied, his voice devoid of the humor the comment deserved. The library at Weatherstone’s mansion in Park Lane may as well have been a brothel seeing as how many couples used it for assignations during the annual early Season ball. One of its frequent occupants had fashioned a rather elaborate shingle and carved the word ’Occupied’ into its face. Hung by a drapery rope from the door knob, it prevented couples from inadvertently interrupting others who might already be busy with their dalliances.
“Since you didn’t, and since my marchioness is probably still in the retiring room, tell me what has you looking so glum,” David encouraged as he moved to the sideboard and helped himself to the brandy. Lord Weatherstone had his servants restock the stuff several times during the ball, although they had to time their visit so it coincided with when a couple took their leave of the room, usually between dance sets.
Godfrey took a breath and let it out. “I have to get married,” he claimed.
David took an experimental sip of his brandy just as the proclamation sounded. Frowning, he regarded the viscount for a moment. “Who did you ruin?” he asked in shock.
Godfrey Thorncastle wasn’t a rake. He wasn’t a rogue. He probably hadn’t even set foot in a brothel in... Well, David wasn’t sure when the viscount might have last visited such an establishment since it had been a very long time since he had frequented any of them. He was a happily married man with a marchioness who suited his carnal needs far better than any courtesan or high-flyer could do. Hearing Godfrey Thorncastle had to marry was completely unexpected.
“Oh, no one, I assure you,” the viscount replied with a shake of his head. “But, I have been reminded that it is my duty to sire an heir, and I am on the cusp of yet another birthday. One of those milestone birthdays, no less.”
David took another sip of the brandy, deciding it was rather good. He didn’t know Godfrey’s age, but he figured the man had to be verging on five-and-thirty. At the moment, he actually could have passed for forty. “Have you a candidate for your viscountess?”
Looking as if he were about to cry, Godfrey nodded. “Lady Lancaster.”
Having just taken another sip of his brandy, David nearly choked. “Ariley’s daughter, Elise?” Goodness! The duke’s youngest daughter had to be at least...
“She’s two-and-thirty,” Godfrey stated, as if he already knew the marquess was doing the arithmetic in his head. “And I dearly love her.”
Deciding he didn’t want to take another chance at being surprised, David set his brandy balloon on a side table and took a large wing-chaired seat adjacent to the divan. He knew of Elise Burroughs Batey, of course. The lady was a vivacious creature, ash blonde and blue-eyed and every bit as comely as her older sisters, Jane, Lady Heath, and the late Lady Margaret.
She looked, in fact, much like her mother, Margaret Merriweather, had looked when she was in her early thirties. The daughter of a duke and said to have had a dowry of one-hundred-thousand pounds, Margaret enjoyed a steady stream of suitors until Henry Burroughs, Sixth Duke of Ariley, appeared at her family’s
country estate in Derbyshire and announced he would be making her his duchess. Margaret’s brother, John, agreed the duke should marry Margaret since the man had his own fortune. As such, John was assured the duke wasn’t after his sister for her dowry.
After only fifteen years of marriage, two sons and three daughters, the duke had died. His eldest son, James, was now the seventh duke. The younger son, Andrew, was a banker and a widower with three children (although given his disappearance earlier that evening with the widow, Jane Fitzpatrick, David thought perhaps a wedding was in his future). With Margaret having died in childbirth and Jane having married nearly twenty years ago, that left the widow, Elise, as the only unmarried Burroughs daughter.
“Does Lady Lancaster know of your... affections?” David wondered, his brows furrowing when realized the poor man hadn’t yet proposed. If he had, David was sure it would have been the on-dit of that night’s ball.
Godfrey allowed a sigh. “She won’t agree to a union if she doesn’t think I hold her in high esteem,” he said at first, but then added, “No. I have written her with my proposal, but I didn’t include all the flowery language of love.”
David blinked. “Have you posted said proposal?” he asked.
“Aye. Sent it this morning.”
Before he asked the next obvious question, David allowed a bit of time to pass. “And did she send a response?”
Godfrey allowed a shrug. “Not yet, or if she has, I haven’t yet received it, which is why you find me in this state this evening.” He was about to say more. He was about to lament that he had expected to find the woman at the ball. He had hoped to at least dance with the lady. And he was about to confide in the marquess but realized Morganfield might not be the best person in which to tell his deepest, darkest secret.
Also by Linda Rae Sande
The Daughters of the Aristocracy
The Kiss of a Viscount
The Grace of a Duke
The Seduction of an Earl
The Sons of the Aristocracy
Tuesday Nights
The Widowed Countess
My Fair Groom
The Sisters of the Aristocracy
The Story of a Baron
The Passion of a Marquess
The Desire of a Lady
The Brothers of the Aristocracy
The Love of a Rake
The Caress of a Commander
The Epiphany of an Explorer
The Widows of the Aristocracy
The Gossip of an Earl
The Enigma of a Widow
The Secrets of a Viscount
The Widowers of the Aristocracy
The Dream of a Duchess
The Vision of a Viscountess
The Conundrum of a Clerk
The Cousins of the Aristocracy
The Promise of a Gentleman
The Pride of a Gentleman
The Holidays of the Aristocracy
The Christmas of a Countess
About the Author
A self-described nerd and lover of science, Linda Rae spent many years as a published technical writer specializing in 3D graphics workstations, software and 3D animation (her movie credits include SHREK and SHREK 2). An interest in genealogy led to years of research on the Regency era and a desire to write fiction based in that time.
A fan of action-adventure movies, she can frequently be found at the local cinema. Although she no longer has any tropical fish, she does follow the San Jose Sharks. She makes her home in Cody, Wyoming.
For more information:
www.lindaraesande.com