Page 46 of Wedding the Widow

“Huh.” Hal grunted. “More wine for me, then.”

“Good night, Hal.” Elizabeth squeezed his hand. “I am truly glad to have met you.”

“I hope to see you at your wedding, Elizabeth.”

She smiled wanly, doubting now it would ever take place.

“Good evening, brother.” Jemmy called as he followed her out the door. “That’s one less hurdle. Hal likes you.”

“I wish it had been as easy with your father.” Elizabeth swallowed hard, fighting to keep her composure. Perhaps she should trust that Jemmy would devise some remedy for this catastrophe that they had not already come up with. If she thought any more about the possibility of them having to part, or worse, having to marry someone else, she wanted to dissolve into a puddle of tears. Let her retire to water her pillow alone. Alone. Surreptitiously she touched her belly. It was ironic that she actually was not.

* * *

Elizabeth sat at the carved ebony vanity table, brushing her hair, trying to think of anything other than the possibility that Jemmy might no longer be in her life. Though she had been slow to admit her feelings—too slow, if truth be told—now, faced with the stark reality that she might lose him, she finally understood the depth of her love for him. Her life, which had been devastated by the loss of Dickon, had been renewed slowly but surely by Jemmy’s persistent pursuit of her—a decorous chase that had culminated in complete capitulation by his prey. To now think of life without him was abhorrent.

She pulled the brush though her hair briskly, the sting on her scalp invigorating.

Yes, she loved him. Deny it thought she might try, she loved Jemmy with a depth that astonished her. Just the thought of being with him sent shivers and tingles down her spine. His warm smile, his merry disposition, his understanding and forgiving nature, and his devotion to his sister made him the perfect gentleman, in her estimation. Very similar to, yet very different from Dickon. Perhaps the one man who could take his place in her heart, the one other man she could love for the rest of her life.

To think one embittered old man could take him from her wasn’t to be borne. She banged the brush on the table and stood, ready to do battle like a legendary shield maiden, but not quite sure how to meet the enemy.

A sudden grating noise behind her made her spin around to face the bed. A dark wall panel next to it shivered, as if coming to life. She blinked, unsure if her eyes were playing tricks on her or if this was actually happening. A scene from The Monk, when a ghost materialized before the heroine, flitted through her mind, and she backed up a step at a time until she was pressed against the vanity chair. Dear Lord, what was going on?

Grabbing the candlestick off the table, heart racing like a runaway carriage, she approached the wall. The grating sound had stopped, but a low hum seemed to be coming from behind the panel. She touched the smooth, cool wood, seemingly just like all the others around the room.

Sudden vibration beneath her fingertips made her jump back. The grating noise resumed, louder than before, and with a loud “pop,” the panel swung open into the chamber.

Elizabeth screamed as Jemmy emerged into her room, bedaubed with cobwebs over the shoulders of his dressing gown.

“Jemmy?” Confusion swirled around her head as she peered first at him, then into the inky black recess behind the panel. “What . . . what is going on?”

Instead of answering her, he set his candlestick down, grasped her face, and kissed her. His warm, full lips pressed her passionately, his tongue immediately seeking access.

Melting against him as her tension drained away, she gladly opened her mouth to welcome him in. As though his touch gave her sudden strength, she pressed her own attack, wrapping her arms around his neck and invading his mouth in return.

He groaned, clasping her bottom, pulling her into him until she could feel his hardness pressing into her. Tighter and tighter they strained into each other until she could not breathe and reluctantly broke the kiss, panting.

Leaning his forehead against hers, he whispered breathlessly, “If that is the welcome I will get, I vow I will install a secret passageway in the master’s chamber on each estate we own when we are wed.” He chuckled and kissed the tip of her nose. “I didn’t frighten you too badly with my grand entrance, did I?”

Still out of breath, Elizabeth stepped back, wobbling just a bit. “You did give me quite a start, Jemmy. All I could think of was that wretched book The Monk, with its castles and secret passages and ghosts.” She peered around him at the black hole in the wall. A stale, musty smell crept from its depths. “Is this truly a secret passage?”

He grinned and gathered her into his arms. “It truly is. Georgina and I discovered this loose panel when we were young. We explored behind it—she was fearless, as you may have already guessed, even at age seven—and if you thread your way through the timbers, you arrive at the back wall of my chamber, just to the side of the wardrobe. It took us weeks to carve a hole big enough for me to slip through and to cut the paneling and disguise it, but we managed to make a true secret passageway so we could visit one another when we had been sent to bed or locked up as punishment.”

“You were locked in your room?” Appalled, Elizabeth hugged him more fiercely.

“I think you can see that my father’s word was not to be gainsaid. Locked in your room with no supper and no breakfast was the standard penance. Of course, once we created this passageway, Georgie would sneak food up to me.” He shook his head and held her away from him. “We, however, will never resort to such punishment with our little ones, will we?”

Elizabeth’s heart sank. “Jemmy, don’t speak of what will likely never be.”

“Oh, it will come to pass, my love.” Gently, he placed his hand on her stomach and looked deeply into her eyes. “Our child is already on the way. Do you think I will allow anyone to keep him or her from bearing my name?” The firm resolve in his voice gave her sudden hope. “Do you honestly believe I would allow an old tyrant to lock me in a financial prison and force me to abandon you? You underestimate me, my dear.” He kissed her lips again. “I am quite as stubborn as Father, and I have something to fight for that he does not. Love.”

“I so want to believe that, Jemmy, I truly do.” She laced their fingers together, binding them as they should be forever and ever. “But if we wed without his consent, how will we live?”

“I will go to my mother’s family. My grandfather is still alive, though very frail the last I heard. Still, I don’t think he will deny my request if he knows the cause.”

“What will you ask of him?”

“A loan of a modest amount. Enough to keep us safe and happy in a small home in London until my inheritance is truly mine. He would want that, I’m sure. And as soon as I reach thirty, the money will be returned to him, with interest.” He raised their hands and kissed their joined fingers. “We will need to live quietly, but we will be together.”