Page 58 of What a Widow Wants

“You lie.” Theale squinted at her, but his tone had no bite. She’d wondered, over the years, if her brother-in-law had been privy to the details of the affair. Too much had hinged on the family’s absence for him not to know.

“I do not. The family had removed to Northumberland early for the Christmas season that year. Stephen was on maneuvers so we weren’t coming to you until later. I had gone to stay with my parents rather than remain alone in the house. So Stephen brought her here.”

Tears of rage and grief trickled down her face. After all these years, the anguish of that betrayal had not diminished.

“You cannot know that.”

“I do know it. My husband very happily confessed to it, after I’d found him out. He seemed to delight in torturing me with the details. So do not tell me that Stephen Tarkington didn’t deserve his cuckold’s horns. I only wish he’d learned the extent of them, that Ella wasn’t his. My affair with Lord Lathbury was at least discreet—neither you, nor Lavinia, nor Stephen nor apparently anyone else in the ton knew of it until now. It would have been so easy for us to let them know. Lathbury urged me to run away with him.” She dug the dagger even deeper into Theale’s heart. “How badly would that scandal have tarnished the family reputation if I had agreed and all the dirty details had come out? You should be thanking me for my mercy. I know I would have been a happier woman had I left.”

“Then I will make you supremely happy now, my lady.” Theale fixed her with a baleful eye. “You, and your fraudulent offspring, will leave this house immediately, never to return.”

“What? You cannot do that.” Startled, Fanny took a step back. “My settlement specifically states—”

“Settlement be damned.” He pounded the arms of the chair like a child in a rage, his face turning an alarming shade of red. “When you dishonored your husband you forfeited all rights to his bed and board. If you wish to contest it, I suggest you seek justice in the courts. In the meanwhile, pack your things. I’ll send them after you.”

“You will turn me and my daughter out in the streets in the middle of the night? And just what will the ton make of that, my lord? Especially when I tell them why I am being summarily turned out?” The threat was empty. She wanted the circumstances of Ella’s birth exposed about as much as Theale did. Fortunately, he didn’t know that.

Lavinia laid a hand on her husband’s arm and leaned toward him. She whispered something in his ear, and the color in his face ebbed a bit.

“The marchioness has graciously suggested that you be allowed to spend a single additional night here, to put your affairs in order. Pack your trunks and your daughter’s. Make arrangements for where you will go and I will see your things sent along behind you. In the morning, Davies will take you in the small carriage and be done with you.”

“Thank you so much, my lord. You are too kind.” Turning on her heel, Fanny stalked from the room, fuming at the man who would rather act dishonorably than admit the wrongdoing of his brother. Fine, she would shake the dust of this house from her shoes and be glad of it.

Picking up her skirts, she raced up the stairs, her head spinning with all the preparations she must make. First, she must write to her cousin in Copsale, alerting her to her impending arrival. She wished she were confident enough to have the coachman take her directly to Hunt House, but caution stayed her from that line of action. She didn’t like to imagine that Matthew would turn her and Ella away; however, they were currently at such great odds, it might be best to simply write to him.

Once in her room, the idea of having to pack up every possession, both hers and Ella’s, was more than daunting in her exhausted condition. If she did it quietly, perhaps she could enlist the help of one of the housemaids to help her get the trunks ready. With trembling fingers, she rang the bell. By the time the maid arrived, Fanny had just finished mending her pen.

“You rang, my lady?” The girl, one of the many maids assigned to attend to Fanny’s needs, curtsied and looked away. So the staff had already heard of her departure.

“Yes, Meg. Would you please have Thomas fetch my traveling trunks here? Miss Ella’s should be taken to her room as well. And then can you help pack Miss Ella’s clothing and toys?” Fanny drew the sheets of paper out of her letter box. “I must attend to some letters, but will find you shortly.”

With a fearful glance out the door, Meg nodded, then turned and scampered off, bent on delivering her message. All the better to be able to write her letters in peace. The first one took little time to compose. Her cousin was a sweet woman whose large family kept her ever busy. She would welcome Fanny and Ella, but they dare not stay long with the family in such straitened circumstances. Setting the first letter aside to dry, Fanny drew another piece of foolscap to her. How on earth did she begin such a letter?

She must write from her heart. Was she sorry for her behavior in Kent? Yes. Was she sorry he’d not known about Ella from the beginning? Of course. He must know these things already. Did she love him? With all her heart. Had she ever told him so? Perhaps once. Was it time for her to do so again? Absolutely. The pen flew over the paper, her hand pouring out the words her mouth could not say easily.

Still, her most urgent message she hesitated to write. A nagging suspicion that her brother-in-law might open the letter forced her to be prudent. No telling what he might do should he find out how matters now stood with her. She’d never seen him as incensed as this evening. Not only angry at her past betrayal of Stephen, but enraged at her suggestion of the possible disgrace she could heap on the Tarkington family itself. Thank goodness she would soon be away from his sphere of influence. Besides, she wanted to inform Matthew she was increasing while she could look into his eyes. Then she would know if he rejoiced in the news or whether he accepted it as mere duty.

Carefully, she sanded then folded the sheet, fastening it with her red wax and the embellished “T” seal. As proud as she had been to first use that seal, now she longed to change it for the “L” designating Lathbury. If only Matthew would propose again, he’d not be disappointed with her answer. Pray God he followed her to Copsale to allow that last chance.

CHAPTER 25

The sun had just peeked over the horizon when Fanny, holding Ella firmly by the hand in the heavy, damp air, climbed into Theale’s coach the next morning. Days were now so short, the morning’s activities had been well begun before it became light enough to begin their travel. Though she’d insisted Ella eat a hearty breakfast, Fanny had only had a cup of chocolate with a piece of bread and butter. She might feel more like eating once they had boarded the stage coach and stopped at the first leg of their journey. They had packed all their necessary things into one small trunk, much more manageable on a public coach. The larger trunks would be sent to Copsale, presumably by other conveyance.

Settling Ella on the plush seat beside her, Fanny wished for the heated bricks at her feet she’d always had on her other journeys. This morning, of course, they would not go far enough to warrant them and would certainly not have such a luxury on the stage coach. She pulled a warm blue carriage blanket around Ella, who yawned and snuggled beside her. “It will have to be a short nap, my love.”

The child nodded and burrowed deeper into Fanny’s side.

Slumping into the seat, Fanny attempted to relax as well. Her letters had been given to Meg for early morning posting. If she was lucky, her cousin would get a few hours’ notice of her arrival before she actually appeared on her doorstep. And Matthew would know her whereabouts even sooner, as she believed him still in Town. If he heeded her summons might he actually overtake them on the road? A happy daydream of Matthew sweeping them both into his carriage and taking them off to Hunter’s Cross ensued until she glanced out the window at the unfamiliar buildings. Surely the inn where she would get the coach would be closer to the bustling center of the city. She moved the sleeping child over to lie on the seat and stood slightly to rap on the trap. “Davies.”

She sat back down and the trap opened. The middle-aged coachman bundled up in coat, hat, and gloves against the cold peered down at her. “Yes, my lady?”

“Have we missed the stage coach station? I wouldn’t think it so far from the city’s center.”

“No, my lady. You’re not wrong about that; however, his lordship instructed me to take you to Copsale myself rather than put you and the child on the coach. Chancy things are stage coaches. Our first change is at the Duke of Welling Inn in Mickleham, about two hours now.” With a nod of his head, he lowered the trap door and Fanny sat back, pleased and surprised by Theale’s unexpected largesse.

Perhaps he’d had a softening of his heart, although she’d rather lay odds that Lavinia had talked him into this kindness. Surprising, considered their stormy skirmishes throughout the years. Of course, it likely stemmed from the marchioness’s fondness for Ella rather than any sympathetic feelings for her. Whatever the circumstance, Fanny thanked her sister-in-law with all her heart. She drew Ella back to her and pulled the blanket over them both, relaxing enough to allow her utter fatigue to claim her at last.

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