Page 22 of The Earl and His Lady

Virginia prided herself on her capabilities as a woman of society. Though she’d not had much practice in the months since her late husband’s illness took its turn for the worst, she knew herself capable of conversing with all manner of people on all manner of subjects. Yet sitting next to Lord Annesbury, whom she must remember to call Lucas, she had a difficult time forming words of any intelligence.

Heavens, it isn’t as though I’m a green girl. I’m a widow.

And he, a widower. They both knew what it was to be married, they both understood loss. Surely, they needn’t ride in silence to fetch the boys from the Gilberts’ home.

He isn’t speaking either, she noted. Was he as uncertain as she?

“It was kind of Mr. Ames’s daughter to pick me a bouquet.” That was a safe thing to say, wasn’t it? He’d seemed pleased with the child’s gesture, after all. Her grip tightened around the wildflowers. White-petaled daisies, deep magenta foxglove, bluebells, and forget-me-nots. It was a simple arrangement, to be sure, tied together with a thin ribbon likely meant for the girl’s hair.

Lucas nodded, though his eyes stayed on the horses. “She seems a sweet child. Do you know her well?”

“They have come to the house a few times, to play with the boys. I am afraid Phillip is most unimpressed by young ladies at present.” She idly twisted the stem of a daisy. “He said their games were too tame.”

Lucas chuckled. “And the girls are older by more than a few years. I can imagine the difficulties there.” He glanced at her, a sparkle in his eye. “Boys tend to prefer more daring games at his age, while those girls are being molded into young ladies. Their father is set on it.”

“As well evidenced by his glares.” She narrowed her eyes and attempted to frown as darkly as the vicar had when one of his daughters coughed during the simple ceremony. Her expression earned a half-smile from her new husband. “I think being so severe rarely means better behaved children.”

One blond eyebrow popped up. “Do you? And how do you silence wiggling children in a church pew?” His eyes went forward again and his expression gave none of his thoughts on the subject away.

Why did he ask? Did he intend to tell her how to raise her sons? Her ire nearly raised before she told herself the question was innocent. He barely knew her, after all, or her child rearing methods. But where her sons were concerned, she would always be on the defense.

“They both know what is expected of them when they attend church. Edward is young yet and still stays home with his nurse most Sundays. For Phillip, he knows he must be a gentleman, and one day many will look to his example. I think because he knows my expectations he well fulfills them.”

“Hm. My father expected me to behave, yet I distinctly remember being pinched by my mother on more than one occasion when I misbehaved.” He cut her another sideways look. “Do you pinch?”

The glitter of humor in his eyes returned and Virginia relaxed. “Only in the direst of circumstances,” she said, trying not to smile. “It has yet to be necessary.”

He nodded and turned the horses into the Gilberts’ lane. “Excellent. I shall remember to behave myself in church, to be certain it doesn’t become necessary.”

Virginia felt her cheeks warm. “My lord, I would never—”

“Lucas, if you please.” He handled the reins with ease and didn’t so much as flicker an eyelash when he interrupted her.

Was he teasing her? Already? But they barely knew one another, she thought with some dismay. It was one thing to be friendly, but a tease was nearly a flirtation.

Virginia began to wish back her gray and black attire. The moment she could change, she would put on her best gray gown. She had nearly nine months of mourning left, after all.

The boys were playing in the front garden when the house came in sight. Edward jumped to his feet upon spying the barouche and began to wave. Phillip stayed crouched among the flowers until the horses pulling the barouche slowed. He stood slowly, rigidly, a somber sight with his frown and black jacket.

Her heart went out to him. He’d gone through too many changes in too short a time. Someday he would understand, but at present he was a little boy who missed his father and his home.

“Good morning, Phillip and Edward.” Lucas jumped down, his side of the barouche on the same as the boys. He bowed to them both and the boys hastily returned the gesture. Then the man turned back to her and held out his hand, ready to help her step down.

Her gloved hand slid into his strong grasp. He steadied her as she descended, her other hand keeping hold of the flowers. Lucas released her the moment she found her feet, for which she was grateful.

“Are you married now, Mama?” Edward asked, though he eyed Lucas hesitantly as he spoke.

“I am indeed. We have but to take our leave of the Gilberts and then we can be on our way to our new home.” She held her hand out and her little son darted forward to take it, uncertainty fleeing in the familiar touch.

Phillip spoke with less hesitancy but lacked any sign of pleasantness. “They’re all inside. Cousin Christine’s only been home a few minutes.” Christine and Thomas had left the moment they signed the register, while Lucas had been obliged to speak to Mr. Ames a trifle longer.

“Excellent. Then they will be prepared for us.” Lucas gestured to the house. “Shall we?”

The front door opened and a footman appeared, coming down the steps to take the horses in hand. The butler stood in the doorway.

Virginia sucked in a deep breath. When she’d left this house, hardly an hour before, she had been a baroness and a widow. When she crossed the threshold now, she would be a countess and a wife.

She went first, keeping her hand in Edward’s, Phillip trailing behind, and Lucas bringing up the rear of their party—their family. What an odd thought.