Page 77 of What a Widow Wants

Fanny too had taken on lessons in household management for Hunter’s Cross from her future mother-in-law, who wished to leave the manor house in good hands when she removed to the much smaller dowager house, situated a quarter of a mile away. Both Fanny and Matthew had urged Lady Lathbury to remain with them at Hunter’s Cross, but the lady had been firm, as was her wont in most things.

“My dear,” Lady Lathbury had said one afternoon over tea, “once you marry Rowley you will be mistress of his home. There is not room for two of us. You will need to find your footing by yourself and I will give you that chance from the beginning. Rowley’s grandmother did not do me that courtesy and I eventually became resentful of her presence in what should have been my house. I will not make that mistake with you.”

“I thank you for that, my lady, but I will hate to feel I have turned you out of your home.” Fanny poured more milk into her teacup. Why it should taste so good when before she abhorred it was an ever-present mystery.

“Nonsense. I am going of my own accord and am quite looking forward to the extra time I shall have for visiting and my charity work. I daresay I may even travel once you are returned from your wedding trip.” The countess’s eyes sparkled. “Take care you enjoy yourself, for once you return there will be work to be done.”

“I believe I can guarantee a glorious time on our trip to Paris, Mother.” Matthew caught Fanny’s eye and winked at her.

“If it is more ‘glorious’ than your time spent here, Rowley, I shall expect reports in the papers of scandalous doings in the streets of the city.” Lady Lathbury stared first at Matthew, then even more sternly at Fanny.

Matthew’s mouth twitched and Fanny’s cheeks heated at the censure.

They had promised to wait to be intimate again until after the wedding. Daily close proximity, however, had managed to break their resolve several times. The countess, apparently, was aware of their transgressions here, although she may not have been privy to the information that when they had attended Elizabeth and Lord Brack’s wedding last week, they had spent the two nights in London in each other’s arms. Matthew had assured her the servants at Hunt House were entirely discreet.

“It’s only one more week until the wedding.” Matthew sighed, sending Fanny a long-suffering look.

“For which I am eternally grateful, Rowley, as you do not seem to know the meaning of the word ‘restraint. ’ ” Lady Lathbury fixed him with a stern eye, though her mouth seemed to tremble as well.

* * *

Fanny’s wedding day, the last day of January, dawned cold and crisp. A sprinkle of snow had fallen overnight, giving the landscape the look of a fairy cake. A fitting setting for her fairy-tale ending. All her friends had come to see her and Matthew wed, two of them bringing new husbands as well. Jane had asked to include Lord Sinclair in her invitation, with whom, Charlotte had whispered the night before the wedding, she’d declared a truce. She and the other members of the Widows’ Club speculated excitedly about whether or not this meant Jane had renounced her vow not to marry again.

A single person of the party seemed decidedly petulant. Lord Kinellan had arrived from Scotland to stand up with Matthew. Looking dashing and elegant in his black tailcoat and gray silk waistcoat, Kinellan seemed out of sorts from the moment he arrived. Fanny wasn’t sure where the issue lay, with Matthew’s giving up his bachelorhood or some other perhaps more personal reason. She’d asked Matthew to ferret it out of him. “Do try to cheer him up, my dear. I would like my wedding attended by happy people.”

Despite all the trials and tribulations it had taken to finally get to her wedding day, Fanny had to admit afterward that the ceremony had gone beautifully. The church had glowed with candlelight, fragrant with hothouse flowers from Hunter’s Cross. Fanny’s smile had stretched across her face and she had glowed with happiness as she and Matthew said their vows before the largest wedding party the vicar said he had ever seen. With her and Matthew’s friends, his mother and sisters and Ella in attendance, the church was filled much fuller than usual. Whatever Matthew had said to Kinellan, it seemed to have worked, for he smiled and wished her happy after the ceremony along with the rest of the throng.

The only one of the original widows noticeably without a partner was Georgina. Resplendent in fashionable new gowns, and accompanied by a lady’s maid and her King Charles spaniel Lulu, Georgie appeared the picture of contentment.

“The marquess has relented and furnished her with all the things she has needed these past years,” Elizabeth confided to Fanny during the wedding breakfast.

“Indeed. What caused his change of heart?”

“I cannot think but that it is my marriage to Jemmy and the promise of an heir that has softened the old blackguard.” Elizabeth’s words seemed harsh, although she said them with a fondness in her tone.

Always cheerful, their younger friend now looked radiant, her face filled with smiles. “I will travel nowhere now without Lulu.” Georgie was regaling Charlotte and Nash with a tale about the silky little dog with the round soulful eyes. “She is my protector, even though King Charles spaniels are not normally kept for such reasons. However, her great-grandmother was my protector when I was young and Lulu has inherited those same instincts.”

“You are looking marvelously well, Georgina. Elizabeth tells me your father has repented his harshness toward you. I am so glad to hear it.” Fanny hugged her friend. Today she wanted everyone to have joy in their lives.

“Thank you, Fanny. He has, at least in some respects. I do have Clara now as my maid, which is a blessing. And he’s given me Lulu, for which I’m very grateful.” A shadow chased across Georgie’s face. “I only wish he would stop his marriage negotiations with Lord Travers. Unfortunately, on that he will not budge, even though I’ve pleaded with him.” She frowned. “Perhaps I should set Lulu on him. He might better see reason if threatened by tiny sharp teeth. If he would simply allow me to go to London for the Season this year, I feel certain I could find a nice, likeable man with a title that would satisfy even Father.”

“Can Jemmy not talk reason into him?”

“He has tried,” Elizabeth spoke up. “But Lord Blackham is adamant about it. I’m not certain why Lord Travers. A rather disagreeable man, for my tastes.” She turned to her sister-in-law. “I am sorry to say it, Georgie, but it is true.”

“You need not tell me, Elizabeth.” Georgie gave her a Friday face. “I’ve been privy to his nature, unfortunately, for some time now. Father has had him come meet with me about the marriage twice. He never seems to say much, but he says it with authority. I have managed to find excuses to put off the wedding, but I don’t know how long I can continue to do so.”

“Don’t give up yet, Georgie.” Hugging her, Fanny whispered in her ear. “We will put our heads together and find a way to rescue you from this marriage.”

“I pray you can, Fanny, for I would certainly wish for a happy wedding like yours and Matthew’s, or Jemmy’s and Elizabeth’s. Or mine was with Isaac.” Tears shone in her eyes. Her late husband had been the love of Georgie’s life. “Anyone would likely be better than Lord Travers.”

“We will call a meeting of the Widows’ Club the instant Fanny returns from Paris and try to find a way for you to have a happy-ever-after too.” Charlotte embraced their friend and all the women clustered around Georgie. If there was a way, together they would find it.

* * *

The candle Matthew had set on the bedside table had burned low. The rhythm of their breathing had slowed at last to almost normal as they lay entwined, tangled in sheets that might need to be repaired. Fanny would swear she heard one of them rip as they had tussled in the midst of their lovemaking. “I don’t think we have done this much damage to the bedclothes since our first tryst in your rooms in Albemarle Street.”

A chuckle came from Matthew’s side of the bed. “I remember having to come up with a reason why the bed listed to one side after your first visit. The servants simply shook their heads and said nothing. A bit of gold goes a long way to secure silence.”

“And now we have no need to sneak, or bribe, or—”

“Or hide under beds it is devoutly to be wished.” Matthew shivered and slid down under the covers.

“Exactly,” Fanny giggled and snuggled next to him. “We have had enough of those days. Days of revenge.” Sobering, she shook her head. “Who would have thought that one act of vengeance would almost end in my death and the death of our daughter? No matter how much I thirsted to make Stephen pay for all he had done, I could never have imagined how badly my scheme would misfire.”

“Still, it brought us our daughter, and soon perhaps a son to join her.” Matthew pulled her over for a kiss. He had kissed her many times tonight, each seeming more passionate than the last. “Most importantly, love, it brought us back together, as we were meant to be from the beginning.”

As sated as she had been minutes ago, his kiss set her aflame once more. To judge by his cock, miraculously stirring to life again, her husband appeared likewise insatiable. Yes, they were indeed well matched in all ways that counted. Although, if they did not show more restraint, Fanny began to doubt she would be able to walk come the morning. “I suppose, then, I shall give up my thoughts of revenge on Stephen. There is no way to strike at him, or Theale for that matter. Save for something that will transcend death.”

“I believe I have a scheme, my love, whereby you can perform an act of vengeance on Stephen and his brother you have scarce dreamed of.” Drawing her toward him, Matthew melded his lips to hers.

When she could next breathe, he loomed above her, his body pressing her down into the mattress, the weight of him as delicious as any other part.

“The best revenge you can devise, my love,” he continued, settling once more between her thighs, “will be to live long beside me as my wife, and love me well for all the days of our lives. Your most perfect revenge will be that neither of them will find the happiness, joy, and contentment with which we have been truly blessed.”

“Then bless me again, my love.” Wrapping her legs around him, she urged him forward.

“As always, it is my great pleasure to do your bidding, my love.” He leaned down to capture her lips again. “Every time.”