Page 107 of Regency Whispers: Scandalous Matches

‘I like children.’

‘I know.’

She held his gaze, something defiant in her eyes as if pushing him to confront the big issue that stood between them.

‘Would you like children, Lady Westcroft?’ The question came out much more directly than he meant it to, but with her standing so close he felt as if his thoughts were all scrambled.

It took her a moment to reply, and when she did her tone was much more formal. ‘I understand the limits of our marriage, Lord Westcroft, and I am not a naïve girl any more. I understand a marriage has to be consummated for there to be children.’ Her cheeks flushed as she spoke, and he felt like a cad.

‘Forgive me, I did not meant to cause you pain. I...’ He was unsure how to put into words the turmoil he felt inside. It was impossible to know how to tell Lady Westcroft that because of his mistake in making the assumption that he was dying, he had stolen from her the future he had promised.

She turned away, but before she did, he saw the tears glistening in her eyes.

‘I must return to my friends, my Lord,’ she said, already beginning to move away. ‘Perhaps I shall see you at home later this evening.’

He inclined his head, watching her as she walked back to the group of ladies a little distance away. As he turned to leave he felt a wave of guilt almost consume him. He needed space and time, some way to come up with a plan where no one suffered too much. Here in London, he felt as though everything was pressing in, threatening to crush him.

It was growing dark outside when Alice sat down to see to her mound of correspondence. She had a letter from each of her nieces to reply to, each of different lengths dependent on their ages, and one from Maria as well. She wondered if her sister-in-law knew of Lord Westcroft’s return and realised she shouldn’t be the one to tell her. No doubt her husband would contact his family soon, if he hadn’t already. Gossip travelled at an unbelievable pace, and he had been seen by half the wealthy women in London that afternoon when he had stumbled upon Alice and her friends in Hyde Park. It might be hundreds of miles to the Westcroft estate in Northumberland, but the news of his return would be up there before the month was out.

She enjoyed the ritual of letter-writing and took her time selecting her pen and positioning the paper, ensuring she had good candlelight so as not to strain her eyes.

As she was about to put pen to paper she paused, hearing footsteps in the hallway outside and then a knock on the door. She turned to see Miss Stick entering, holding something in her hand.

‘Lord Westcroft asked me to give this to you, my Lady,’ Miss Stick said. The older woman was always polite and formal, but Alice had gone to great efforts to get to know the housekeeper in recent months. She could see something was wrong and took the letter in trepidation.

She was puzzled to see her husband’s seal on the back and glanced up at Miss Stick briefly.

‘I am sorry, my Lady. He left about an hour ago.’

With a sinking feeling she opened the note and let her eyes skim over the words. It was brief, only a couple of sentences, explaining he needed to go and see his family, to tell them he was back before the gossip reached them. There was no indication of when he might come back to London, just an apology for leaving so soon.

For a second she slumped, feeling rejected once again, then forced herself to rally.

‘Lord Westcroft has gone,’ she said to Miss Stick. ‘There is no word as to when he will return. I expect he will stay in Northumberland for some time.’

Miss Stick’s expression softened slightly, and then she nodded and held Alice’s eye. ‘There will be no change to your plans then, my Lady? Everything will continue as normal?’

‘Everything will continue as normal,’ Alice confirmed.

Once she was alone Alice allowed her control to slip and slumped in her chair. He hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye. She could justify his behaviour all she liked, but that was hard to bear. She understood he would have been keen to return to his family, to be the one to tell them he was back in the country so they weren’t surprised by the information from someone else, yet it would only have taken a few minutes to bid her farewell.

She thought back to their conversation that afternoon and knew it had likely played a part in why he was so quick to rush away. They were two strangers thrown together by a foolish kiss almost a year earlier. Now he had returned, it would be difficult to unpick the tangled strands of their lives and find a way to live comfortably with one another, whether that meant together or apart. She could see he was struggling with that, but it didn’t mean his leaving so abruptly was painless.

Alice looked at the note again. It was short, only a couple of sentences, informing her he was leaving immediately to travel north and see his family.

‘There’s nothing wrong with that,’ she murmured, trying to convince herself. She took a deep breath and pressed her hands down on the little writing desk, refusing to let this latest development throw her off course.

Loudly she exhaled and stood, pacing back and forth across the room. She had known before they married that she would not have a conventional union. But he had told her that her life would be one way, and now it had completely changed. Of course she was pleased he was not going to die alone, far away from family, but she would like a little acknowledgement that his return affected her as well as him.

With an effort she paused by the window, setting her shoulders and lifting her chin. This was a good lesson to learn. Her husband might be back, but he was not ever going to see her as anything more than the woman he married to save her from ruin. She could not expect affection from or companionship with him, instead she would have to continue as she had been, building a life she was content in, even if she were alone.

Chapter Eleven

The house was quiet as he approached on horseback, each window in darkness despite it being only a little past nine o’clock. This time he had made sure he sent word of his return to London from Northumberland, allowing both his wife and the servants to prepare for his arrival. He wondered if Lady Westcroft had moved from the master bedroom or if she would expect him to sleep elsewhere now she had claimed it as her own this past year. In truth he did not really mind; he’d woken up in many different bedrooms over his lifetime, and another change would not unsettle him. What it did do was highlight one of the many issues they would have to sort out now he had returned to London.

The door opened quickly, and Frank Smith, the young footman, hurried out to hold the reins of his horse to lead it to the back of the house where there was a small stable. Both Simon’s father and brother had been keen horsemen, as was he, and his father had added a stable large enough for three horses on the patch of land behind the house. It meant the garden was smaller than it could be, but the horses did not have to be stabled elsewhere whilst he was in residence.

Inside the house was quiet, but Miss Stick came to greet him in the hall and take his hat and gloves.