The Wary Widow (29 page)

“Oh, Louis, you will find someone one day who is worthy of you. Who will love you and who you will love in return, so much that you'll think you're heart might burst with it.”

“I already feel that way. For you, Chloe.”

“Louis,” she ventured. “I am so sorry. I wish I could love you, truly I do. And Lord knows I’ve tried. But you must believe me when I say that I value you and your friendship and, horrible as this may sound, I am quite flattered by your affections.”

Louis grinned and gave a little sniff of disbelief.

“Your kindness will never be forgotten,” Chloe promised.

He stood then and let go of her hand. He said nothing, but nodded, clearly trying to keep his tears at bay.

Chloe choked back her own tears. Though she did not love him, it was never easy to say good-bye.

Louis walked to the door and opened it, but turned back to face her once more. “Promise me one thing, Chloe?” he asked.

She nodded for him to go on.

“If you ever find yourself in trouble again, promise you’ll come to me.”

Chloe was warmed by his concern for her and she solemnly nodded her consent. Though she knew in her heart that she would never have to take him up on that particular offer.

***

Just after dawn on Friday morning, a caravan of stately coaches drove up the lane and parked in front of the Clarke cottage. Chloe and Grace, having a room at the front of the house, were the first to hear the horses as they clopped to a stop.

“What is going on?” Gracie wondered as she Chloe stared out the window.

“I have no idea. But the
Wetherbys
certainly travel in style, don’t they?”

Curiosity fueled them as they dressed quickly and then ran down the stairs to the front door. By the time they arrived, the entire Wetherby clan, save Michael and Lizzie, had alighted the carriages and were gathered in the drive, talking animatedly about their trip.

Chloe caught sight of Andrew and went to him. “What is going on?” she asked with a smile.

“Good morning, darling,” he greeted her, planting a swift kiss on her cheek. “We’ve come to retrieve you and your family. Are you all packed?”

“Well, yes-”

“Good! Tell your family to start loading their personal belongings in the last two carriages—they’re meant for cargo.”

“Why is the whole family here, Andrew?”

“For our wedding, of course. You did reserve the vicar for tomorrow, did you not?”

“Yes, but-”

“No buts, young lady. Now, go and get your things.”

“Andrew,” Chloe said with a laugh. “Will you not tell me what this is all about?”

He tapped her on the nose and gave her a wink. “You shall see soon enough, my dear. Now go and get your things.”

***

Once the Clarkes’ belongings had been loaded and everyone was safely secured in the traveling coaches, Andrew instructed his driver to lead the way.

A broad smile spread across his face as he put an arm around Chloe’s shoulders. He’d never been so happy in all his life.

“What are you grinning about?” she whispered, clearly uncomfortable with his display of affection in front of his sister and her husband.

“Oh, nothing,” he replied lightly.

“Are you not going to tell me where we’re going or why my family had to pack up their things?”

“No. I’m not.”

“Never fear, darling,” the duchess piped up. “It is a most pleasant surprise.”

A comfortable silence reigned over the rest of the ride. Andrew stole fleeting glances at his bride-to-be, hardly able to believe that in two short days she would officially be his. Not even a week ago, he was resigned to spending the rest of his life with a woman he didn’t love.
How benevolent the gods of love are.

An hour later the caravan pulled up to a long, tree-lined drive. Andrew watched as Chloe leaned forward to see out the window. The lawn and the flowers that adorned it were breathtaking, but Andrew didn’t see any of it. He only saw his beautiful Chloe as her eyes lit in wonder and disbelief.

“Andrew,” she began tentatively, “what is this?”

“This-” He waved his hand expansively at the land and the massive manor that loomed before them “-is our new home. And that-” He pointed to a somewhat smaller house to the right “-is your family’s new home.”

Chloe’s jaw dropped as her head swung around to face him. “What?”

He had to laugh at her expression. She was clearly speechless, and it pleased him greatly that he was the reason.

“A gift,” the Duke of Weston put in, “from Katherine and myself.”
“A gift?” Chloe echoed in disbelief.

“A gift in the sense that Weston here suggested I buy it from him,” Andrew added, not wanting his bride to think they’d be living off charity.

Weston laughed and grabbed his wife’s hand. “Touché.”

“But...my family. Our home? What will my father think of all this?”

“It wasn’t easy, I’ll grant you that,” Andrew replied to her musings. “Your father was resistant at first. But we’ve agreed on a position for him here, and he will pay rent for the house.”

“A position? You mean you’ve spoken with him?”

“
Through messengers, yes.
Though I made him promise not to let on. I wanted to surprise you.”

“And what will he do here?”

“He will serve as stable master, and look after my prized thoroughbreds. I hear your father has quite a way with horses, though your financial situation has not allowed him to work with them in many years.”

The carriage went quiet again and Andrew grew nervous. Chloe just stared out the window, her mouth still agape.

“Do you like it?” he ventured.

She turned to him, her brown eyes twinkling, and nodded. Then, without warning, she threw her arms around his neck.

“Thank you,” she whispered in his ear. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Twenty-Nine

“Andrew?”

Chloe poked her head around the corner of Andrew's new study to find him hunched over, covering his eyes.

“Andrew, what are you doing?”

“I'm not supposed to see you before the wedding, you ninny! What do you think you're doing here?”

Chloe laughed and moved further into the room. “I thought the rule was that you weren't supposed to see me in my wedding gown before the wedding.”

There was a pause while Andrew contemplated this. “Are you certain?” he finally asked.

“No. But now I know that you're a superstitious
softwit
.”

Andrew finally looked up, his jaw unhinged with incredulity. “Well, that's not a very nice thing to say, is it?”

“Will you ever forgive me?”

“I will try,” he replied, coming to his feet and moving to wrap his arms around Chloe. She took a deep breath as he embraced
her,
still unable to believe they were going to be married that afternoon. “So, what
are
you doing here? Shouldn't you be getting ready?”

“It's too early yet. Besides, there is something I would like for us to do...something I need to do before we marry.”

Andrew's brow furrowed and Chloe reached up to soothe it with her fingers. “You needn't look so concerned. I simply wanted to ask if you would join me to visit Sam. I just...I feel as if...”

“Say no more, my dear girl,” Andrew said as he pulled her tightly to him. “I will see that the horses are readied.”

A half hour later, the pair mounted their horses—lovingly prepared by an elated Mr. Clarke—and set off on the ten-mile trip to where Sam was buried next to their old parish church. They reached their destination in less than an hour and tied the horses to the wrought-iron gate surrounding the tiny church graveyard.

Chloe took in a deep breath of cool, morning air before walking through the gate. She hadn't visited Sam's grave since before she'd left for London, and a part of her felt guilty for that. She had clung to him for so long, not wanting to let him go, but it had been easier to do than she anticipated. So easy that she completely forgot to visit him anymore.

Nonetheless, she couldn't avoid seeing him today. She needed to tell him. She needed his blessing, though she wasn't sure how she would know if she had received it.

Andrew took her gently by the elbow and followed her lead through the graveyard. Sam's plot was toward the back under a low-hanging poplar tree, so it was always showered with tiny white flowers in the spring. They paused when they stood just a few feet in front of Sam's stone, and Chloe could already feel the tears rising up to choke her. She didn't mean to cry—she didn't want to, especially not in front of Andrew.
On their wedding day.
Over her first husband.
But she couldn't stop the tears.

She didn't cry because she missed Sam. She had come to terms with the fact that he wasn't coming back ages ago. Chloe cried because she was finally moving on with her life, but that didn't mean that she would forget Sam. He would always be in her heart. She would always remember him for the best friend that he was to her in childhood. She would remember him as her first love, her first lover, and her first husband.

Andrew squeezed her shoulders from behind and planted a kiss on the back of her head. “I'll be right over there if you need me,” he said, pointing to a spot on the other side of the yard, then he walked away to give Chloe time alone with Sam.

Wiping her eyes, she dropped to her knees and stared at the headstone. It read a poem by Lord Byron that Chloe had thought appropriate for a gravestone.

Samuel Aaron Hawthorne

12 November 1800—3 February 1820

So, we'll go no more a roving

So late into the night,

Though the heart be still as loving,

And the moon
be
still as bright.

For the sword outwears its sheath,

And the soul wears out the breast,

And
the hearth must pause to breathe,

And love itself have rest.

Though the night was made for loving,

And
the days return too soon,

Yet we'll go no more a roving

By the light of the moon.

“Oh, Sam,” she said at last, after reading the poem again. “I've come to speak with you, for I have an important question to ask you. I do hope you can hear me, and if you can, well, I hope you'll be able to give me some sort of sign of your approval...or disapproval, as the case may be.” She paused and looked around. Andrew was leaning against the gate at the far side of the graveyard and he gave her a little smile before she turned back to the headstone. “Sam, I'm getting married today. His name is Andrew Wetherby, and he is a wonderful man. He is thoughtful and generous...and he loves me. You can't begin to know the half of what we've been through, but you see
,
I'm carrying his child. Yes, I know I should have waited until we were married—or at least until he had broken off his engagement to Lizzie—but...well, I love him too. And we just got carried away. And frankly, I'm rather glad we did.

“I know you don't need to hear all this, but I feel as if I should tell you. I want you to know that I have never stopped loving you, and likely never will. For a long time I thought it would be impossible for me to love another man, but as it turns out, there is room in my heart for you both.

“So, please...if you can hear me—if there is anyway for you to give me a sign—I would very much like to have your blessing.”

The sound of boots crunching through the gravel reached Chloe's
ears
as they grew closer to her. She thought it was Andrew at first, but then she realized there were two sets of footsteps.

“Chloe?” came a woman's voice. A voice Chloe hadn't heard in some time. A voice that made her
dissolve
into a puddle of sobs.

She buried her face in her hands, but she couldn't turn around. She couldn't look at them, though she knew they were the sign. Sam had sent them to her, and his decision would lie on their tongues.

When she finally found the strength to lift her head and pick
herself
up off the ground, she met with the familiar faces of Mrs. and Mrs. Hawthorne, Sam's mother and father. Andrew was at her side in an instant, exchanging somber greetings with the
Hawthornes
.

And then she was engulfed in Mrs. Hawthorne's arms. “Oh, Chloe, we've missed you so. Are you all right, dear?”

Chloe nodded, taking deep breaths to try and gain back her composure. Goodness, she hadn't expected such an emotional morning.

“I am well...very well, actually, though you wouldn't know it by looking at me.” She took Andrew's hand and gave a weak smile. “I am getting married today.”

Mrs. Hawthorne gave a little gasp and there was a moment of silence as they waited to see if it was a gasp of shock or excitement.

“Oh, Chloe, that is wonderful news.”

“It is?” Chloe asked, surprised.

Mrs. Hawthorne nodded and looked to her husband, then back to Chloe. “We weren't planning on coming here today. We usually come during the week, when there are no services. But Mr. Hawthorne said he had an inclination to come here this morning, and so here we are. I don't doubt for a minute that Sam wanted us to be here in order to hear your good news.”

Chloe choked back more tears. She was going to look a fright walking down the aisle that afternoon if she didn't stop crying. “Then you think he would be happy for me?” she asked.

“Oh, Chloe,” Mrs. Hawthorne sighed. “All Sam ever wanted was for you to be happy. Dear, if marrying this fine-looking gentleman here makes you happy, then rest assured, Sam is beaming with joy for you today.”

At that, Chloe didn't even bother trying to hold her tears in. “Oh, thank you! Both of you,” she said as she embraced them both.

After a tearful good-bye, she and Andrew left the graveyard, and rode back home, toward their new life together.

***

Andrew beamed with a pride unlike any he’d ever felt before as he watched Chloe, with her slightly bulging
stomach,
walk through the local parish church toward him. She wore an ivory gown and a lace veil and carried a small bouquet of forget-me-nots in her hands. But it was her smile that made him weak in the knees. A smile he missed every day after she sent him away, but one he’d never have to miss again.

His heart was so full as he stood there, her hands in his, as they recited vows to one another in the company of their families.

Well, most of their family, anyhow. He wondered how Michael was faring with his new bride. Elizabeth could be a formidable woman and he hoped she wasn’t giving his brother too hard of a time over the circumstances. He tried not to laugh at that thought—he was, after all, in the middle of his own wedding—but Chloe clearly sensed something was amiss by the way she narrowed her eyes at him. He could tell she made a mental note to ask him about it after the ceremony.

But it wasn’t until well after the wedding breakfast, after all the guests had gone home, and the sun was setting over the horizon that she had a chance to ask him.

“Are you going to tell me why you were grinning like a little boy on Christmas morning during our vows?” she asked as she nestled against him in front of the fire.

They had driven halfway through Kent and were now ensconced in a lovely little room at a roadside inn. Tomorrow they would go the rest of the way to the Dover coast, but tonight, they would enjoy just being alone together in the rustic little room.

“Would you believe me if I told you that I was simply overcome with joy?” he asked, his brows
raised
in invitation for her to challenge him.

“No,” she replied without hesitation. “You were clearly thinking about something else.”

He chuckled and pulled her tighter against him. She brought his hand to her belly and he nearly jumped when something kicked his hand.

“Good God, was that the baby?” he asked, amazed at what he’d just felt.

Chloe laughed, that sweet laugh he loved so much. “I hate to disappoint you, but it’s too soon for that.”

“Then what the bloody hell was I feeling?”

“I’m afraid that’s our wedding breakfast. I’m certain I overdid it on the sweet meats.”

Andrew laughed, conceding that he too had eaten a bit too much that afternoon. “Well, will you please inform me when it
is
the baby?”

She turned and planted a kiss on his lips. “
Our
baby.”

“Our baby,” he repeated and then kissed her again, hungry to taste her.

But she pulled away suddenly with a mocking grin. “So?”

“So?”