Page 88 of Wedding the Widow

“Yes, Father.”

“Yes, my lord.” Elizabeth looked at Jemmy and sent a prayer heavenward that the name would not be too outrageous. “We will agree to name him whatever you like as long as we can be married.”

“Very well, then you have my consent and blessing.” The older man cackled, and Elizabeth feared he would jump up and cut a caper on the carpet.

“Thank you, my lord.” Now for Worth House and some much-needed rest.

“Father,” Jemmy paused as he turned to go. “Why this whole abduction scheme if you knew there could be no marriage between me and the duke’s daughter? Why risk harming Elizabeth and her mother by bringing them here?”

His father shrugged, the ghost of his smile returning. “I had not done with my revenge yet. I had waited more than twenty years to make her feel guilty about what she had done to me. I wanted to see her, make her squirm for a change.” Lord Blackham chuckled, a dreadful sound. “Also, I had a few more tricks in my deck, inducements that might have worked, had Mrs. Easton not already been breeding. I told you widows with children had an advantage, didn’t I, Brack?”

Anger in his eye, Jemmy started to turn back to his father.

Elizabeth took his arm firmly and compelled him out the door.

“Good day, Blackham.” Papa whisked Mama after them. They followed Elizabeth and Jemmy to the front of the house, until Mama halted in the foyer, and whirled to stare straight at Papa. “Wentworth! Do you know what this means?”

Dazed, Papa shook his head.

“I shall have to organize two weddings at the same time!”

Epilogue

Elizabeth stretched and settled down with a sigh next to Jemmy in her bed at Worth House. The wedding had gone off without a hitch, quite a contrast to their turbulent betrothal. Even the weather had cooperated, and the sun had shone brightly as they had left St. George’s, laughing in relief that they were finally, truly man and wife.

The wedding breakfast had lasted forever, it seemed, with both sides of the family wishing them happy. Charlotte and her other widow friends had attended, including Georgie, under dispensation from the marquess. Elizabeth hoped once she and Jemmy settled on a residence, they’d be able to convince his father to let her come to them, at least until her marriage was finalized or they could persuade him to break the betrothal with Travers. One hurdle at a time.

Basking in the afterglow of their first intimacy as a legally wedded couple, Elizabeth sighed in contentment. Truly, she could wish for nothing more save . . .

“When do you think we shall find out what we are to name this child?” She slipped her hand over her belly, reveling in the tiny flutterings she had just begun to feel yesterday.

“Hmmm?” Jemmy sleepily tuned over toward her, running a finger down the curve of her breast, bringing her nipple to quick attention again.

“I still don’t know what we must name our child, Jemmy. I can’t help but dread it. And knowing your father, he’s liable not to tell us until we are standing with the godparents at the christening font.”

Jemmy chuckled and slid close enough to grab her nipple in his lips, his tongue flicking the tip.

“And I thought you were asleep,” she purred and pressed him closer, waves of desire beginning to rise once more down below. Her second marriage would apparently be as lively as her first.

“On our wedding night? Perish the thought.” He kissed her breasts, and his shaft bumped against the seam of her legs.

“You will have to keep me completely occupied for the next six months so I will not think about what your father might be named. Do you think it very bad?” She had to have asked him that a thousand times in the past three weeks.

“Well, it is not what you would call a common name, no.” He rolled them so he lay atop her. As his prodding member made its demands known, she opened for him, eager as he to join together again.

“What do you mean ‘not common’? Of course, we know it’s not common. Your mother wouldn’t name you this dreaded name.”

“It’s truly not that bad, Elizabeth.” He groaned as he seated himself deep within her. “Oh, love, you are glorious.”

Heat kindled at her core as he began the long, slow strokes that drove her wild. “Hmmm. That feels so nice, Jemmy.” But he was distracting her. What had he just said? “What do you mean it’s ‘not that bad’?” What’s not that bad? His name? Do you know what it is?” She jolted up in bed, flinging Jemmy off her in her excitement.

“Good Lord, Elizabeth. You can’t just do that to a man mid-ride.” He threw himself on his back on the mattress beside her.

“I’m sorry, my love, but you found out your father’s name? How?” Elizabeth sat up in the bed, the disheveled sheets pooling around her hips.

“When Aunt Augusta wished me happy at the wedding breakfast, I took the opportunity to ask her if she knew Father’s Christian name. And she did.” He grinned up at her, wickedness in his eyes.

“Oh, my goodness. What is it? Is it truly awful?” Elizabeth held her breath.