Page 53 of Wedding the Widow

“What did the man do to make you say such a thing?” Fear bubbled in her veins. Jemmy was nothing like his father, but dear God, could he become so in the future? The marquess had struck her as being stubborn and rather harsh, but not the monster her parents seemed to loathe. “You must tell me.”

“He killed Louisa.” Her mother broke down completely, sobbing with such anguish Elizabeth flew to her side and threw her arms around her.

“Oh, Mama, certainly not.” She held the shaking woman, her own confidence shaken to the ground. “Who was Louisa?”

“Lord Blackham’s second wife and your mother’s best friend.” Her father clenched his teeth and abruptly strode to the bell and rang.

“I’m so sorry, Mama.” Elizabeth hugged her mother tighter, tears starting from her eyes. Lord Blackham must be a fiend to have done such a thing. But what had he done? How had he managed to escape justice? Even a peer could not kill someone outright and not expect to be arrested. Last century, Earl Ferrers had found that out to his dismay. And why had she heard nothing of this from Georgie or Jemmy? Did they not know? “What did he do? Are you certain it was not an accident?”

“No. It was no accident.” Hiccupping, her mother sat up, wiping her streaming face. “He knew she should not have any more children, yet he insisted on keeping her breeding. My poor Louisa.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth sat back as well, less certain of Lord Blackham’s villainy. A woman entered marriage knowing her duty was to bear her husband children, with the attendant risks that childbirth entailed. “Then he didn’t mean to kill her, Mama. Childbirth is always uncertain. And I’m sure it was sad for you to lose her as she was your bosom friend, but Lord Blackham—”

“Lord Blackham knew so many children so quickly would kill her. The doctor told Louisa she should wait for at least a year after her last child was born or it could go badly for her. But she would not listen and refuse Blackham her bed.”

Such blunt talk before a man froze Elizabeth. Surreptitiously, she glanced at her father, whose stony face held no sign of blush. Most gentlemen would have run from such a conversation. She cleared her throat and sipped the now-cold tea.

“Do not be shocked at my frank speech. I have hated Lord Blackham these twenty-five years since Louisa’s death.” She waved a hand at her husband. “You needn’t mind your father. He’s heard this all before.”

Another shock, but before she could quite take it in, the door opened, and a footman bearing a decanter and glasses entered.

Elizabeth stared at the dregs in her teacup while the man deposited the tray on the sideboard and disappeared out the door. Certainly, she sympathized with her mother’s sentiments; however, she was not quite as convinced as Mama that Lord Blackham had intentionally meant to kill his wife. Neither could she understand Lord Blackham’s refusal to allow her to marry his son. Her mother and perhaps her father might have an objection, but Jemmy’s father should bear her family no ill will. Some piece to the puzzle was still missing.

“Mama, even if this is true, I still do not understand why Lord Blackham will not allow Jemmy and me to wed. Your friendship with his wife and your accusations of his . . . killing her, unless you did so publicly, shouldn’t have caused such a refusal.” Raising an eyebrow deliberately, Elizabeth stared at her mother. “Is there something you are not telling me?”

“Yes, my dear, there is.” Her father drained his glass and poured another. “What she is not telling you is that Lord Blackham offered for your mother before he offered for her friend.”

Elizabeth gripped the handle of the cup so tightly she feared it would snap. Mama almost married Jemmy’s father? The very idea made her skin crawl. She shivered and sank back on the sofa. “Obviously, you refused him.”

“My family wanted the match very badly. Wanted to have their daughter a marchioness. And I dutifully met his lordship at balls and parties.” Mama’s face was blank as she sat lost in the memory. “He was older, but not too objectionable. Very distinguished-looking, I thought at the time. I could perhaps have made the match, but then . . .” She turned to Papa and held out her hand.

He took it and kissed her fingers.

“I met Wentworth at Lady Gill-Abbot’s ball, and I knew, I just knew I could never marry anyone else. My father called me a fool, but he agreed to the match and refused Blackham’s suit. The marquess was livid.” She narrowed her eyes at the remembrance. “Why he would think all he needed to do was make an offer and his title would do the rest, I’m sure I don’t know.”

“Having met the man, I can understand it.” Grimly, Elizabeth recalled the marquess’s haughty tone and demeanor. He would certainly think his title reason enough to marry him.

“After I met your father, I didn’t encourage Blackham at all.” She swallowed hard. “But Louisa did.” She clutched her husband’s hand. “I was never quite sure if Louisa had come to care for Blackham, or if perhaps she felt sorry for him. Or if the idea of being the Marchioness of Blackham turned her head. Blackham had made no secret of the fact he wished to wed again, and quickly. He’d not been out of mourning for his first wife a week before he appeared at Almack’s, trying to court me. After I refused him, Louisa set her cap for him.”

The pieces of the puzzle were beginning to sort themselves out in Elizabeth’s mind. Her mother had been the marquess’s preferred choice. And the marquess always got what he wanted, according to Jemmy. Only this time he hadn’t. So he had married Mama’s best friend as revenge? “Did you see your friend much after her marriage?”

“No. I never saw her again.” Tears glistened in her mother’s eyes. “And that . . . fiend she married refused to even let her write to me.” Her head came up, a triumphant smile on her lips. “But we managed to outsmart him. Louisa was not forbidden to write to her sisters, so she wrote to Mary, her next youngest sister, and would sometimes enclose a letter for me as well that Mary would send on. So I knew when her first child, the heir, was born, then a pair of twin daughters, and another daughter.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “At last, came a letter from Mary without one from Louisa, telling me that my friend had died during the birth of her fifth child. Five children in as many years.” Wiping the tears away, her mother lapsed into silence.

“Of course, there were the two that were twins,” her father added, as if to keep the facts of the matter straight.

“Still, there were too many, too close together. Even the doctor said so.”

“He’d waited twelve years with a barren wife, he told me.” Elizabeth shook her head, deeply saddened. “So I suppose he meant to have as many children as he could as quickly as he could. I can see him wanting that above all else.”

“That may have had something to do with it.” Her mother sniffed, drawing in ragged breaths. “But I believe he did it to spite me, to get back at me for my refusal.”

“Mama!”

“I slighted him. He knew Louisa was my best friend in the world. Everyone knew it, for we were constantly together. So he married her. But when he discovered that hadn’t hurt me, he took her off to the country and wouldn’t let her see me or correspond with me, or so he thought. Then he killed her and. . . and it’s all my fault.” Weeping as though her heart would break, Mama covered her face. “If I hadn’t rejected him so harshly . . . if I had tried harder to discourage Louisa from marrying him, perhaps she would be alive today.”

“There, there, my dear. I have told you time and again, it was not your fault. And I doubt you could have swayed Louisa, no matter what you said.” Her father patted her mother’s arm, then commenced pacing back and forth before them, looking like he could use another drink.

“And if you had done so, Mama, neither Jemmy, nor Georgina, nor their brother and sisters would have been born.” Grasping her mother’s hands, Elizabeth peered into her face. “Neither do you know if your friend would have wanted such a thing.” If Jemmy’s mother had wanted the match, even Mama would not likely have deterred her. “You cannot change the past, Mama.” She shook her head sadly. “If anyone knows that, it is I. All we can do is make the best of the present and look to the future.” Elizabeth grasped her courage. “I love Lord Brack and will marry him, no matter what.”