Page 94 of Yielding to Love

“Useful?”

Alice laughed. “Oh, I didn’t mean useful. I meant unique.”

*

They stayed in Tunbridge Wells for the entire month of October. Mr. Fogbotham said his gout was improved and, as much as he enjoyed being with his daughter, he was anxious to return to his home in the country before the weather turned.

Camellia was also ready to leave. Crispin hadn’t come back, and it was a daily struggle not to bring up his name. Alice was a perceptive woman. Camellia didn’t want to give herself away.

To her surprise, on the carriage ride back to London, Alice asked her if she would be interested in a position as a companion.

“I know I’d be stealing you away from Marianne, but Hazard worries about me venturing about so much when he isn’t available to accompany me.” She added with a smile, “He thinks I am out troublemaking.”

Mr. Fogbotham snorted but made no comment.

Camellia would be paid, a lowering prospect for a gentlewoman, but companion was an acceptable position for a wellborn but destitute widow. Rather than being dependent on the Stirlings, she could earn her own way. She didn’t think Marianne would be miffed. Rather, she would have a vicarious thrill, thinking of Camellia living with a viscountess. She accepted on the spot, and refused to consider the possibility that her decision had been influenced by the friendship between the viscount and Crispin.

*

Lord Haslet’s London townhome was the most subtly extraordinary residence Camellia had ever seen. Everything in it spoke quietly of wealth. The entrance hall was paneled in dark wood, but was nevertheless bright because of the abundance of candles. Alice pointed out Hazard’s private library, a small room set off from a balconied walkway overlooking the high-ceilinged ground floor, a unique architectural feature.

“I don’t bother him there,” Alice said, taking Camellia upstairs. “I swear he goes in there to nap. There is a better library on the ground floor. We strategize there.”

“Strategize?”

Alice laughed. “This is a not-very-closely-guarded secret but please don’t repeat it: I write his speeches. I don’t tell him what to say. Not usually. I just tell him how best to say it.”

“Do you!” Even though she had discovered how smart Alice was, she had assumed Hazard had married her because she was so young and pretty.

Alice gestured to a wing that belonged to Hazard’s mother. “She doesn’t emerge often, but she entertains all the time. Haz adores her, and I do too. And she loves me because ‘someone’ finally snared her son.” In response to Camellia’s bemusement, Alice said. “You’ll get used to us.”

“Where is Hazard?” He hadn’t seen his pregnant wife for a month, yet he was not there to greet her upon her return. To Camellia’s mind, that was a mark against him.

“He’s out in the country. He’ll be home next week, I expect.” She took Camellia down a long, carpeted hallway. “Those are Hazard’s rooms.” They walked a bit further. “These are mine.” And further still, “And these are yours.” She opened the door to a fair-sized bedchamber. The bed was encircled by gauzy, yellow bed curtains. A nightstand held a pretty porcelain washbowl. Cerulean-blue drapes were pulled back to reveal a view of the back gardens. Alice indicated a door in the side wall. “Your dressing room. I hope you’ll be comfortable.”

“Good Heavens. How could I not be?”

Alice grinned. “I know. Believe me, I know. We could fit my father’s house in just one wing of this place.” The grin fell away. “And if I don’t give Haz an heir, it will all go to his cousin, a drunken, gambling, wastrel.”

“The property is entailed?” So she and Alice had something in common.

“This house is. And one of Haz’s country estates. I told Haz he should introduce a bill to outlaw entailments, but he said he cannot. It’s too self-serving. He said he’d consider it when we have a son.”

When. She had to admire their confidence. Pray God it would be rewarded.

*

As a paid companion, Camellia was much less constrained than she’d been as a simple new widow. Over the next week, she accompanied Alice to two teas, a musicale, a lecture, and a suffragists’ meeting. They also made a trip to the lending library and to a shop that sold ladies’ shoes. Alice insisted on ordering a pair of Vanessa’s friends’ boots for her. “It is practically a uniform in our circle,” Alice said, giving Camellia a twinge of discomfort. She hoped Crispin wouldn’t be annoyed that she had wheedled her way into the Taverstons’ circle. He’d wanted to part friends, not be thrown into her company again and again.

Upon their return from the shop, Alice retired to her chamber to rest. Camellia went to the music room to play the pianoforte. When she wearied of that, she headed to the library to find something to read. The door was open. She stepped into the doorway and stopped in her tracks.

Hazard was home. He and Alice were in the library, beside one of the large windows that let in the afternoon sun. They were standing very close together. Hazard had his hand on Alice’s belly, and she had her two hands on his. She was giggling. Hazard’s expression was one of wonder. Of awe. It was a beautiful moment. And a very private one. Then without removing his hand, Hazard bent down and gave Alice a glancing kiss on the forehead. Camellia backed quickly into the hall.

Alice had said she’d get used to them. She supposed she would. But what an odd pair. They clearly adored one another; yet if not for the obvious evidence, one might imagine them to be chaste.

*

It was late November, and London was becoming a sodden mess. It was cold, foggy throughout the morning, and dark by early afternoon. The streets were icy and slick, and Hazard forbade Alice from going to a meeting of the orphanage trustees because it was actively sleeting. Nevertheless, he struck out for his club.