The Worldly Widow (21 page)

The boy
'
s eyes widened. He carefully avoided his mother
'
s scrutiny. "She won
'
t, though. Nobody can persuade her, not even Uncle Charles.
"

"Leave it to me,
"
said Dalmar.

Annabelle caught the complacent and thoroughly masculine smile which Dalmar flashed at her son and, a moment later, the replica of that same smile on her son
'
s lips. A little desperately, she insisted, "Nothing and no one is ever going to persuade me
to get on a horse again,
"
and with great dignity she picked up her needles and dashed off a row of knitting, only to discover that she had dropped two stitches in her blind haste. She
'
d be damned if she would ever knit another thing again!

"Hell and damnation!
"
raged Annabelle. She slowly lifted her eyes, daring her startled companions to say one word in her dispraise.

It was Richard who first gave in to a bout of laughter. Dalmar soon followed. Annabelle began by glaring, but something in the situation tickled her fancy. She relented.

"Nobody
'
s perfect,
"
she said lamely, smiling, and bent her head to examine her handiwork. Slowly, stitch by stitch, she began to unpick her work.

It was then that Dalmar finally condescended to open the box which had occasioned so much curiosity when he had first walked into the garden.

"A knight,
"
said Richard, and reverently held one up for his mother
'
s inspection.

Annabelle glanced into the box. "I have no objection to knights,
"
she said.

Richard explained the remark. "Mama doesn
'
t like guns and war games.
"

With his eyes on the boy, Dalmar drawled, "Ladies seldom do. But then, we
'
re not playing war games. These are yours, if you want them. They
'
re not new, you
'
ll observe. They were given to me by an uncle when I was just a little older than you are now. I told him, you see, that when I grew up I wanted to be a knight.
"

"Instead of which you became a soldier,
"
interposed Annabelle with a smile, having resigned herself to the fact that her opinions weighed
little in this masculine tête-à-tê
te.

"They
'
re one and the same,
"
said Dalmar. "A knight was first and foremost a warrior. His whole life was a preparation for the battlefield.
"

"Mama likes knights,
"
said the boy.

"Yes, I gathered from the plethora of pictures on your walls that you had made a study of the subject.
"

"Rubbings,
"
said Richard. "Mama does them from brasses on tombs.
"

"Rubbings?
"

"It
'
s an art form that comes from the East,
"
said Annabelle. "I read about it in a book once.
"
Throwing the Earl a sidelong glance, she went on, "It helps pass the time when everyone is out riding.
"

Ignoring the jibe, Dalmar said, "These are the English at the Battle of Poitiers.
"
He slipped his hand into the box and withdrew one of the pieces. "And this is their commander, the Prince of Wales.
"

"The Black Prince,
"
exclaimed the boy, holding out his hand for the knight.

"Why did you want to be a knight when you were a boy?
"
asked Annabelle. "Most boys want to be soldiers.
"

Dalmar turned a dazzling grin on Annabelle. "Perhaps it was the allure of saving maidens in distress, though to be sure, in these modern times, it
'
s hard to come upon one of their number. They
'
re almost extinct, you know.
"

"I don
'
t doubt,
"
she said dryly, "that saving maidens in distress is not all it
'
s cracked up to be.
"

"You
'
re wrong there,
"
he said, and laughed when the sparks flew from her eyes. "No, really, there was something in the knight
'
s code of chivalry that held me in thrall.
"

"Every morning, Mama and I play the game of St. George rescuing the damsel in distress,
"
said Richard. On an afterthought, he added proudly, "I
'
m St. George.
"

"And naturally, your mother would be the damsel.
"

"The dragon,
"
corrected the boy, "and then St. George
'
s horse.
"

With a gravity that belied the smile in his eyes, the Earl remarked, "How remiss of me not to have guessed it. And how very appropriate.
"

"Yes,
"
flashed Annabelle, "isn
'
t it? And since I am on the receiving end of so much knightly chivalry, I can assure you that my opinion of it is not so high as it once was.
"

"But dragons represent everything that is evil,
"
argued Dalmar. "It would be totally reprehensible for St. George to be merciful to the dragon unless the beast showed some evidence of reforming his character and way of life. Too much is at stake, you see, if you
'
ll excuse the pun.
"

With a sudden flash of insight, she scoffed, "You
'
re a romantic! I
'
ll bet that
'
s why you are a soldier! Tell me, Lord Dalmar,
"
she asked archly, "do you really believe that you
'
ve given the best years of your life for king and country?
"
Belatedly, she realized that she had thrown out the very words that Temple had used the night before, and she could have bitten her tongue out.

Leveling a hard, impenetrable stare at her, Dalmar replied quietly, "I am not so naive as to see everything in black and white. Nor am I so stupid as to think black is white or vice versa. It happens sometimes that a man is compelled to choose the lesser of two evils. It behooves him to pursue his course with honor. Yes, I believe I have been fighting to protect all that I hold dear. As for the best years of my life—who can say? However, I fervently hope that they are ahead of me, which is more than can be said for many of my comrades who paid the supreme price, willingly, for an ideal—life with honor.
"
He shrugged, "Or king and country. It matters not how one calls it.
"

Into the charged silence, the boy said, "My father was a soldier.
"

Dalmar
'
s expression instantly softened. "And a very fine soldier he was too, so I
'
ve been told.
"

"I have his spurs and saber. Would you care to see them, sir?
"

"Thank you. It would be an honor.
"

"Mama?
"

The look that Annabelle bestowed on Dalmar was compounded in equal parts of gratitude and apology. In her vanity, and wishing only to score points off the Earl, she had forgotten that her son was present. That the boy should think ill of his father because
of any careless word that fell from her lips was insupportable. Wishing to make amends to both Dalmar and her son, she said, "You see how it is with us poor mothers, Lord Dalmar. Having lost a husband, I have no wish for my son to become a soldier. But if Richard turns out to be half the man his father was, I shall be very proud indeed.
"

Her eyes averted, she went on resolutely, "I
'
m sure I speak for my son when I say that we would consider it an honor if you
could be persuaded to join us for dinner, that is, if you are free?
"

"Oh rather! Please, sir,
"
seconded the boy.

She lifted her lashes and chanced a quick look at the Earl. The warmth which radiated from his eyes seemed to reach out and enfold her.

"Thank you,
"
he said, "I should be delighted.
"

"We dine very early on Sunday,
"
she said, smiling shyly. "And only on leftovers. Cold mutton and ham, and second-day gooseberry pie.
"

He gave an exaggerated groan and winked at Richard. "Now she tells me what
'
s for dinner! And after I
'
ve already accepted the invitation! Your mother is a very devious woman, you know.
O
h well, we knights never go back on our word. But next time she won
'
t outwit me so easily.
"

Annabelle blinked and could not help wondering how she had come to such an about-face. If there was any outwitting going on, it ce
rtainly was not by her design. "
Then that
'
s settled,
"
she said, slicing a suspicious look at the Earl. Turning to her son, Annabelle said, "Dinner will be on the table in half an hour. After dinner you may show Lord Dalmar Papa
'
s spurs and saber.
"

Galvanzied into action by his mother
'
s unlooked-for capitulation on all suits, he gathered the treasured box of knights into his arms. "Oh sir, this is the best present I
'
ve ever had in my life. I can
'
t wait till James sees it. He doesn
'
t have any knights in his collection.
"

"James?
"
asked Dalmar.

"My cousin. He
'
s older than I,
"
confided Richard.

"
In that case, I
'
d better explain the armor and crests and so on. Why don
'
t you set them out in the schoolroom somewhere and we
'
ll look over them later?
"

As if afraid that the grown-ups might change their minds given time to think, Richard made for the back of the house as fast as his short legs could carry him.

"He
'
s a fine boy,
"
remarked Dalmar.

"I think so,
"
Annabelle concurred, and was surprised at the flash of pleasure his words had produced in her heart. Dalmar walked to the flagstones where Richard had earlier
set out the clothes pegs. He became lost in thought.

"The Battle of Waterloo, if I
'
m not mistaken,
"
he said, finally.

"What?
"

"Your son. He has quite an imagination. You may forbid war games as much as you like, Annabelle, but you can
'
t prevent hoys from being boys. He
'
s circumvented you. The child has set out these old clothes pegs as if they were whole divisions in Wellington
'
s army.
"

"I should have guessed,
"
she said. "And don
'
t tell me I
'
m fighting a losing battle. I already know it. It
'
s just—well, I don
'
t want to raise my son to be a soldier.
"

He smiled the strangest bittersweet smile. She did not know what to make of it.

Abruptly he asked, "Your husband fell at Badajoz, as I understand?
"

"Yes,
"
said Annabelle without elaboration.

"What are you? Richard
'
s stepmother?
"

She was completely taken aback by the bald question. "I b-beg your pardon?
"
she stammered.

"Who was the child
'
s mother? Not an English girl, if appearances are anything to go by.
"

"A Spanish girl,
"
she said, frowning.

"Ah, that explains it!
"
He was remembering the galleries in the Palais Royal and how Annabelle had resisted purchasing the pair of Spanish combs. "What happened?
"