Finally a Widow
“Ma’am. Please sit down. You’ve had quite a shock.” The words barely registered as Eve Mossant processed that her husband of twenty years was dead.
Two years had passed since she’d last seen him. They hadn’t lived together in over a decade.
She hadn’t had relations with Jean Luc for thirteen years and seven months.
She was free.
“Mama.” Her oldest daughter, Rhoda knelt beside her. Eve hadn’t resisted when the gentleman delivering the news guided her to the sofa and lowered her to sit. “It’s good riddance.”
Eve nodded. “Yes.” Yes, it is.
Her husband had been a libertine and a wastrel. Among other things.
She glanced up at Mr. Waverly, her man of business. He’d handled her own fortune for the past year. Apparently, word had been sent to him first, rather than to the wife.
“How? When?” Did it really matter? It should. Perhaps if he shared some of the details she could believe the news to be true.
And although she’d spent years hating Jean Luc, tears welled in her eyes.
Mr. Waverly glanced over at Rhoda and her husband, Lord Carlisle, and they all nodded grimly.
“January twenty-ninth. Two days ago. Found dead in his bed. Smothered with his own pillow.”
Eve processed the information stoically. It made sense. He’d likely angered some woman or her husband. Or perhaps been unable to pay one of his lady birds. And they’d held a pillow over his face.
The feat would have been easily accomplished as Jean Luc probably had passed out from drink or opium.
Or whatever potion he’d chosen to poison himself with that day. She wasn’t sure what he’d most recently been dabbling in.
“Do they know who?” Again, it didn’t matter. But a wife would be expected to ask.
Mr. Waverly addressed her question but, of course, the answer wouldn’t matter. She stared out the window as two drivers skirmished over their vehicles on the street below. Ah, yes. One of the barouches had scratched the other. Unfortunate, really, it had been painted such a pretty color blue.
“Mama. Mama? Are you listening?”
Eve shook her head to stare into Rhoda’s coffee-colored eyes. “But of course.”
“I’ll return tomorrow. After she’s rested.” Mr. Waverly’s voice softened. His assistance had been indispensable to her. Since she’d come into her own fortune, he’d done his best to keep it out of Jean Luc’s reach.
And he’d succeeded.
But before he could leave, Eve sprang off the sofa. “You are certain? This isn’t some joke? Or a mistake?” Did she want it to be? Jean Luc Mossant had been her husband, after all. He was Rhoda, Coleus, and Holly’s father — biologically anyhow.
Mr. Waverly stared at her solemnly. She’d not noticed how steady his gaze was. Had it always been so reassuring? So…solid? It must have been, for she’d trusted him with her lifetime security amounting to thousands of pounds.
And then he took both of her hands in his and squeezed. “I am certain.”
“Did you travel to Pebble’s Gate? Have you seen the body?”
“I did not. One of my associates brought me the news, and he is utterly reliable. But I will, if you’d like me to.” He rose to his feet and moved across the room. He knew her circumstances well enough that he would comprehend her misgivings.
Eve took a deep breath. She hated losing her composure in front of anybody, particularly one of her daughters.
At least Coleus and Hollyhock were safely ensconced at Miss Primm’s Ladies’ Seminary this year. Since winning a considerable amount of money on a most disreputable bet, Eve now had the funds to pay the exorbitant tuition.
“I think the girls ought to be informed in person. Coleus will be most vexed to put off her coming out another year.”
