The Waltzing Widow (31 page)
"The poor man was dead on his feet. I wished him to have at least one night's peace before he made the acquaintance of his infant son,” Lord Kenmare said.
"My son!” Major Wilson-Jones had an appalled expression on his face. “I had actually forgotten.” He shot a swift glance down his wife's newly trim figure.
Lady Cecily laughed up at him, a tender light in her eyes. “Shall we go up to see him, my love?"
"I should like that, I think,” Major Wilson-Jones said, clearing his throat. Hand in hand, they went up the stairs.
"Wasn't that simply wonderful?” Abigail breathed, glad tears in her eyes for Lady Cecily's happiness.
"Yes. Yes, it was,” Lady Mary said quietly. There was a darkened expression in her eyes. She took a deep breath and seemed to throw off her thoughts. She glanced at the earl; then her eyes fell away from his. She turned back into the breakfast room, and Captain McInnes hurried to offer his escort to her.
Lord Kenmare stared after her. He was certain he had seen reproach in Lady Mary's gray eyes. “Damn it,” he breathed. He started back into the breakfast room, but Abigail nipped his sleeve.
"My lord! I meant to ask a favor of you, if I might,” she said quietly.
He glanced down at her. “Of course, Miss Spence. Whatever it is in my power to do."
"I hope that it is,” Abigail said. At his puzzled look, she sighed. “I have tried and tried to talk to Mama about William. But she will not. She has put up that ... that
barrier
she resorts to whenever she wishes to put one off. My lord, you have become close to my mother, have you not? I will be so grateful if you could offer her the sympathy that she will not accept from me."
Lord Kenmare kept his face carefully expressionless. “I shall hold myself ready to do so, Miss Spence."
Abigail smiled gratefully at him. “Thank you! I knew that I could rely upon you."
Lord Kenmare offered his arm to her and they returned to the breakfast table. He wondered whether he would be able to justify Abigail's faith in him. He was weighed down still with that oppression of spirits that had first assailed him when he had been unable to find William Spence. He had failed to bring the same sort of joy that he had just seen in his sister's face to Lady Mary. Even if she might someday forgive him, he did not know that he could ever forgive himself.
Before breakfast was quite finished, the doors flew open and a familiar figure strode into the room. He stood grinning at the expressions of astonishment and frozen shock on the faces of those at the breakfast table. “Never tell me that you thought me dead,” he said.
"William!” Abigail shrieked.
As one, she and her mother jumped up and raced to him. They cast themselves against him, laughing and crying at once. William staggered under the weight of their enthusiasm, but he made no complaint. Instead he laughed and gathered both ladies close.
Tears streamed down Lady Mary's face even though her eyes blazed with a glad light. She cupped her son's face between her hands and with her eyes devoured its dear lines. “Oh, William, William! How I feared for you. But you have come back!"
"Did I not tell you that he would, Mama? Did I not?” Abigail asked, laughing deliriously.
"Yes, yes!” Lady Mary laughed. She was suddenly struck by the brightness of the room, and she glanced about in surprise. How strange that she had not before noticed that outside the windows the summer sun was blazing. Her oppression of spirits had blinded her to it. But William, her dear son, had returned safe and unharmed. On that thought she stepped back to run newly anxious eyes over him. “William, are you quite all right?"
"I've never been better in my life,” William said cheerfully. “I haven't a scratch to boast of, incredible as that is, what with fellows dropping about me right and left. Why, there wasn't an officer left among us after the blistering French fire.” He suddenly became aware of the other two occupants of the room. Unable to bow owing to the ladies clinging about him, he nodded to the gentlemen. “My lord, good morning. And to you, Captain."
Lord Kenmare had hung back during the joyful reunion, but now he came forward to offer his hand to William. With complete sincerity he said, “I am glad to see you in one piece, Spence."
Abigail was recalled to something more than her brother's incredible appearance. She pulled Captain McInnes into the group."William, I am engaged to be married,'’ she announced proudly.
William looked at her with astonishment and then at Captain McInnes, whose craggy face had slightly reddened. William grasped the officer's hand and pumped it energetically. “My dear fellow! Dash it, this is news indeed! She will lead you a fine dance, I warn you."
"Och, I am thinking it will be a grand dance,” Captain McInnes said, slanting a warm look at his betrothed. Abigail blushed with pleasure at the pretty compliment.
"But come, William! Come sit down and tell us where you have been—what you have been doing,” Lady Mary urged, drawing him toward the table.
William looked approvingly on the dishes of eggs, kippers, ham and biscuits, strawberries and grapes on the sideboard. “I shan't mind sitting down in the least,” he said half-jokingly.
Lord Kenmare read rightly the appreciative and hungry expression in the young soldier's eyes. He gestured quietly for a footman to serve up a well-filled plate for the apparently famished young gentleman. “You'll join us, of course,” he said.
William agreed that he would. He set to with relish, and as he polished off a huge breakfast he told a tale of a last-minute desperate charge, the confusion of the enemy, giving chase, and at the end, of being pointed out to the Duke of Wellington as the fellow who took command over his section after all the officers had fallen. The duke had ordered him to remain until he had cleared a few details; then his grace had heard William's story and immediately entered in his dispatches a recommendation for William's promotion. He had then ordered William to deliver the dispatches to the packet sailing from Ostend for England, a side trip that had necessarily delayed his return to Brussels.
"And then, upon my arrival, I am told to my complete surprise that my family have removed to another address. By the by, his grace the Duke of Wellington sends his regards to you, Mama.” William sent a teasing look at his mother. “He apparently recalled with some pleasure a waltz that he once enjoyed with you."
Lady Mary was much astonished that the great man should remember such a trifle. She felt Lord Kenmare's eyes upon her and she met his amused glance, at once recalling the circumstances that had arisen from the first waltz. She smiled at his lordship, shaking her head.
"A promotion! How wonderful for you, William,” Abigail said, her eyes shining.
"Yes, indeed. I am very happy for you, William,” Lady Mary said. “Your grandfather will be most pleased when I tell him."
"I should like to tell the old tartar myself, actually. He has always the most devilishly mocking expression in his eyes. I'd like to see the moment of surprise come over him,” William said.
"But you will not be able to, William. Grandpapa is not here. He and Grandmama left Brussels days ago,” Abigail said.
"Did they indeed?” William said with a lurking grin. “I would not have thought the old gentleman would turn tail so easily. Won't I roast him for it, though!"
"You shall have your chance at my wedding, which will be in London as soon as we return home to England,'’ Abigail said. “You shall have leave, won't you, William?"
Lord Kenmare had been startled by the talk of a London wedding. It had not occurred to him before that the Spences would be leaving Brussels. He was left prey to disturbing feelings, and he judged it time to leave the scene of the happy reunion. He rose, saying, “I am somewhat
de trap,
I think, and as I do have a few small matters to attend to, I shall make my excuses. Spence, I am glad to see you again."
"Thank you, my lord,” William said, gratified by the earl's kind attention.
Lord Kenmare raised Lady Mary's hand to his lips. He saw that she was looking at him in a quizzical fashion. He smiled, his mouth quirking attractively at one corner. “Lady Mary, your servant.” He bowed to Abigail and left the breakfast room.
Captain McInnes decided that he, too, was unneeded, and he also made his adieus. Abigail instantly protested, saying that she would go with him, but he silenced her with a shake of his head. “You shall want to hear every word,” he said, understanding her consuming interest in her brother.
Lady Mary saw that the footmen were hovering about, obviously ready to clear away the remains of breakfast. “Come into the parlor. There is so much we have to relate to each other. William, I am just so happy that you have come back to us.” She and Abigail took hold of William's arms and bore him off with them.
The morning was spent and luncheon had come and gone when William announced that he must go to his quarters to freshen up and change if he were to be presentable for the evening. Lady Mary and Abigail were reluctant to let him out of their sight, and so they requested one of the earl's carriages to drive them. The ladies dropped William off at his quarters, letting him go only after extracting his promise that he would return to the Kenmare town house for dinner.
When the ladies had returned to the house, Abigail declared her immediate intention to make up to Captain McInnes for her desertion of him and she sped upstairs. Lady Mary had put her hand on the banister to follow her daughter up the stairs, though at a more leisurely pace, only to be directed by a footman to the drawing room, where the Earl of Kenmare awaited her.
Lady Mary entered the drawing room. “My lord, I was told you wished to see me."
Lord Kenmare turned away from his contemplation of the fire. He went to her and took one of her hands. “Lady Mary, pray be so kind as to give me a few moments.” He drew her over to a settee.
Lady Mary sank down. “Of course, my lord.” She watched as he returned to the drawing-room door, and she heard him quietly request the footman without that they not be disturbed. Then he shut the door. When he returned, she said, “It is something of some moment that you wish to discuss, I assume.''
He seated himself opposite her. “Yes. Would you care for a glass of wine, Lady Mary?"
Lady Mary nodded. “Please. It has been a very long afternoon with William. I hope that you do not mind, but I mean to remove my bonnet and be comfortable,” she said, untying the ribbons under her chin.
"Not at all, my lady.” Lord Kenmare got up to go to the occasional table. He picked up the decanter, unstopped it, and poured out two glasses of wine. “I apologize for waylaying you like this, before you even had a chance to change out of your walking dress,” he said, returning with the wine.
Lady Mary had discarded her bonnet and gloves. She accepted the glass of wine with a murmur of thanks. “That is quite all right, my lord. I know well that you would not have done so unless it was of the first importance."
"I believe it to be, indeed,'’ Lord Kenmare said. He did not sit down again, but instead went to stand at the mantel. He regarded Lady Mary's expression of mild curiosity. He had her complete attention. She was waiting to hear what he had to say, but he found it more difficult to speak to her than he had anticipated. What right did he have to speak to her, after all? She was a friend and a guest in his house. It would only be natural were she to take affront at his presumption in violating the precepts of conduct of a host.
"My lord?” She was looking at him in growing inquiry.
Lord Kenmare shrugged in resignation. He loved her, but he had never had a chance in fixing his interest with her. The terrible war had effectively seen to that, as well as his attempt to make love to her. The occasion had resulted in a show of revulsion on her part and must forever place him outside her affections. So he had very little to lose by arousing her anger.
He set aside the glass of wine, untasted. Thrusting his hands into his pockets, he faced her. “The thing of it is, Lady Mary, I am curious what you have decided for your future. As your friend and the one who has been most nearly responsible for your safety these past weeks, I have taken it upon myself to discuss the matter with you,” he said.
"I see.” Lady Mary's voice was totally without inflection and he could not read her expression. She raised her glass and sipped at the wine.
Lord Kenmare left his place at the mantel and seated himself beside her. He took her free hand, to hold it gently between both of his. “My lady, I am concerned for you. Otherwise I would not presume to speak so bluntly,” he said. “Pray consider what I am saying to you. The hideous war is over, at great loss to you and to me and to everyone else. We have all faced the deaths of family and dear friends. Now it is time to think of getting on with our lives. Have you given any thought to what you shall do, now that Abigail plans to wed?"
Lady Mary looked into his eyes. “I have decided to return to England with Abigail in a fortnight."
He was taken aback. He had thought to have some time to make himself agreeable to her, but her cool announcement had taken him totally by surprise. “A fortnight? But I had assumed ... My lady, why?"
She glanced away from him. She was in tears, but it would not do to let him become aware of it. “There is very little to keep me in Brussels now. As you have said, the war is done with. Though William must remain on until he receives leave, Abigail and Captain McInnes will be journeying to London. I expect that it will be most pleasant to travel in their company.''
Lord Kenmare was not unobservant where his chosen lady was concerned. He took the wineglass out of her trembling hand and set it aside on a half-table. He drew his handkerchief out of his coat pocket and gently dried her tears. She did not protest his ministrations and when she met his eyes, he saw a vulnerability in hers that he had glimpsed only twice before. He slowly bent his head, giving her time to draw away. But she did not, and her lips parted soft beneath his.
