Always the Widow by Emily E.K. Murdoch

Chapter Fifteen

Elizabeth looked up in excitement as she caught sight of a top hat out of the corner of her eye—but the gentleman who had just entered Sydney Gardens was not Jacob. Even from this distance, she could tell. He had gray whiskers and walked with a cane, and as he grew closer, she saw he was quite an old man.

Her heart sank, but it could not sink too low. Not now she knew how they felt about each other.

“Miss Worsley be damned, I love you!”

It had been—what, three days since she had last seen him? Three days too long. It was difficult being apart from the man you loved due to society’s expectations.

Elizabeth shook her head as though it would rid her mind of doubt. She was so much more to him than a mistress, she was sure. Lover, perhaps. Future wife, a part of her whispered in hope.

Whatever they were to each other, they were parents, and as Beau cooed in his pram beside her, Elizabeth leaned against the bench.

Before now, Jacob had just arrived at Lenskeyn House whenever he pleased. It had not worried her. She had never expected any other guests, and so they were usually left to their own devices.

The elderly gentleman passed by her, nodding as she inclined her head. She forgot, sometimes, cooped up in Lenskeyn House, that there was an entire town just a few miles away, full of people and their hopes and dreams.

“And who is the cleverest little boy in the whole world?”

Elizabeth smiled as Molly touched Beau’s nose as explosive giggles erupted from the pram. Her son. The one who had been waited for all these years.

And now, his father had requested to see them both, and in public, too. Surely the only reason he could have asked her here…was to propose. Making it here would give their rather bizarre courtship a sort of balance. Finally, they would be able to spend time together. Perhaps, in the years to come, they would even change Beau’s name.

“The cleverest little boy,” the nursemaid smiled over the pram. “The cleverest little Howard in all the world.”

Elizabeth’s smile became more stilted. Well, perhaps not that far. She doubted whether society, let alone the dowager countess, would ever accept the youngest Elmore Howard becoming Elmore Beauvale.

But still. Jacob would be his father in all but name, and that was what mattered.

“Full of flighty things, isn’t it?”

Elizabeth jumped at Molly’s words as she looked out over Sydney Gardens.

“Yes, full of young things just looking for their next gown or jest,” said the nursemaid with an approving smile. “Ah, we were all young once. I suppose there will be plenty of hopes for engagements in a few months, as the Season approaches.”

Her heart twisting, Elizabeth nodded. It was strange, one’s happiness coming at the cost of another’s misery. Miss Sophia Worsley had not been on her mind much, but now as she sat here on the bench, waiting for Jacob to make his addresses to her, she could not help but feel sorry for her.

True, she had not heard any news of the broken engagement, but undoubtedly the Worsleys wished to keep it quiet. It was understandable, especially as this would be the second poor Miss Worsley would endure.

Elizabeth bit her lip. It was hardly her fault, after all. It was no one’s fault. Nobody could be blamed for the strange situation they found themselves in, and she would ensure not to rub salt into the wound.

No, her wedding to Jacob would be small. No fanfare, just something quiet so they could begin their lives as a family.

A gurgle erupted from the pram, and Elizabeth smiled. Her heart swelled for love of Beau as it had never done for anyone before.

Loving a child was utterly unique. There was nothing like it, and had she been asked to describe it to a single soul, she could not have done it. Not even to Jacob.

That man. She had wished for a child for so long, prayed, given up all hope, and known in her soul she would never have that divine pleasure of creating life.

And then Jacob had stormed into her life, furious at first against her husband, and she…she would never be the same again.

The garden gate swung open, and her gaze lifted, but it was not Jacob. This time, a trio of ladies, all about her own age, came through into the gardens, all speaking loudly and surely not listening to a word the others were saying.

“Do you have the time, Molly?”

The nursemaid pulled at the chain around her neck and looked at her pocket watch—a gift, she had once told Elizabeth proudly, from a previous family she had served. Fourteen children over eighteen years. Elizabeth had shuddered at that. One was quite enough to be getting on with.

“Just past three o’clock, my lady,” said the nursemaid.

Elizabeth nodded. She would just have to contain her impatience, that was all. Jacob would be here soon; it was he, after all, who had set the time and day of this meeting. Then they could walk, he would propose, and she would finally be able to kiss him in public without causing an outcry.

Well, possibly.She was still a widow, and though she had now moved into her lavender widow’s clothing, she was still officially in mourning. But marriage in mourning was not impossible. She would make it possible.

And then they would find a house, not in Bath nor London, far from the horrors of gossip, and they could raise Beau and any more children that came their way. They would be so happy, and—

“Good afternoon.”

Elizabeth’s heart swelled. She knew the owner of that voice. He was standing directly behind her, and she smiled broadly as she twisted to greet him. “Good after-afternoon.”

Her voice had faltered, but she managed to complete the sentence. Jacob looked…well, awful was the only word she could think of.

Gone was the carefree smile. Gone was the cheerful look, that sunny disposition which never seemed to disappear.

Jacob did not look happy. He barely looked like Jacob.

“We need to talk, privately,” he said in a low voice with a glance at Molly.

Fear clutched Elizabeth’s heart. Something was wrong, that was plain to see, and yet Jacob had still come here to see her. That could only mean that the something wrong was associated with her. Perhaps with Beau.

Whatever had plagued him, she was sure it would bring unhappiness to them both. But she could not inquire yet. She had to ensure their conversation was completely private.

Turning to smile at Molly, she said, “You know, I believe Beau would appreciate a walk around Sydney Gardens. Something to settle him. Would…would you please take him while I rest here? Lord Westray will entertain me.”

Not the cleverest of ruses, Elizabeth knew, but she could barely think. Jacob’s voice had been so low, so depressed.

“We need to talk privately.”

What could he possibly say that was so terrible?

Thankfully, Beau’s nursemaid smiled and saw nothing wrong. “Of course, my lady. Beau could do with a nap as it is, and it will get my old bones moving. Your lordship.”

She bobbed a curtsey before she left, and Elizabeth saw that this was one servant who did approve of Jacob.

After watching the pram disappear around a corner, her heart twisting at the very thought that Beau was not within instant reach, Elizabeth took a deep breath and gestured that Jacob should join her on the bench.

He did so, but after hesitation. He appeared reluctant to get too close to her—which, Elizabeth reminded herself, was perhaps not such a bad thing. They did not wish to attract gossip, after all. They would be notorious enough when their engagement was announced, without additional attention.

“What is wrong?” she asked.

There was silence, and when she turned to look at him, she was stunned to see tears in his eyes. Jacob could barely speak. He opened his mouth twice, but no words came out.

Terror gripped Elizabeth, making each breath painful. Clearly something awful had happened, something utterly unforeseen. The only thing she could think of was that someone had died.

She reached for his hand, taking it in hers, but Jacob pulled away.

“No, not here. Not ever again.”

If she had thought herself concerned before, it was nothing to what she felt now.

Barely able to breathe, she said, “What…in Heaven’s name, Jacob, what do you mean? You cannot possibly mean that.”

Jacob took a deep breath and finally managed to speak. “Christ, Elizabeth, I almost did not come. I still cannot believe I am saying these words—but I must say them.”

“What are you saying?” Elizabeth whispered. All hopes of her happily ever after seemed to be crashing down around her, and she could not understand why, how—what had she done to deserve this?

“I…I cannot break the engagement with Miss Worsley.”

Elizabeth stared at the man beside her, as though the Jacob she had known had disappeared and been replaced with this imposter.

His words did not make sense. Why could he not? He had the power, and he had the chance to make them all so happy. Why was he saying this?

She swallowed. “You cannot break the engagement with Miss Worsley? You cannot be in earnest.”

A cold spring breeze rushed past them, through Elizabeth, who felt like ice. Jacob nodded without speaking.

Elizabeth sat in stunned silence. How was it possible that the man who had rescued her from an unhappy marriage, who had given her a child, could now betray her?

Had it not only been days ago—less than a week—that they had made love again? She had trusted him to break the engagement, to honor his commitment to her.

Not that he had made any commitment, she could see that now. No, he had whispered love and such things, but nothing solid. Nothing in stone.

Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes, but she would not let them fall. Not now, at any rate. Not here.

“And may I ask why?”

“It is complicated.”

Elizabeth laughed bitterly. “Well, I am clever, so do me the courtesy of explaining! I am sure I will understand.”

The fierceness of her voice belied the pain underneath it. How could he do this to her? This was not the Jacob Beauvale she knew.

“I did not come here for an argument,” Jacob began in a low voice.

“You thought you could just turn up here, in a public place so I would not shout at you, and dictate your next actions—the next actions of my life?”

Elizabeth swallowed down the bile rising in her throat and wondered whether she was going to be sick. This was a nightmare. Perhaps she would wake up and find this had all been a terrible dream. She wanted to wake up and find Jacob next to her, all this confusion behind them, in their bed, in their own home.

“You cannot instruct me what to do,” Jacob said, abruptly. “I have to make my own decisions, and—”

Elizabeth laughed. “Why should I not instruct you? You listen to Lady Romeril, you listen to Miss Worsley, neither of whom are blood relations—why not listen to the mother of your child!”

“Hush!” Jacob looked around them but saw no one close enough to have heard her words.

“Why?” Elizabeth said, feeling strangely hysterical. “What is the point of being hushed? If you do not stand by me, Jacob Beauvale, then I have no one. I will have to learn to speak up to get what I want—what our son deserves.”

The bitter words poured out, and she could not stop them. It was clear from the twisted look on his face that Jacob was in just as much pain, but she had to push that sympathy away.

How could she feel sorry for him?He was the one who had created this mess, him and his inability to break off the engagement with Miss Worsley. If he refused to stand by her, then she had no choice but to go her own way. She had to think of her son.

Jacob sighed heavily. “There is too much to explain now. You are just going to have to believe me when I say that I need to marry her. But you know me, Lizzy. You know I have no wish to.”

The anger that had been bubbling up in her stomach came to the fore again. “I told you to do just that, less than a week ago! I told you to marry Miss Worsley and to leave Lenskeyn House, and what did you do?”

She glared and did not complete her sentence. She did not need to. They both knew what had happened.

“For all we know,” she said in a lower voice, “I am with child again—with your child!”

A look of panic grazed Jacob’s face. “What? Do—do you think that is even possible?”

Elizabeth’s laugh sounded resentful, even to her. “Well, I believed myself to be barren before, did I not? Who knows now? Perhaps it was Elmore’s problem, and here I could be, pregnant with a baby that could not possibly be my late husband’s this time!”

Jacob’s eyes were wide, and he looked around Sydney Gardens as though someone could rush in and help him. But no one could save him now, Elizabeth knew that. It was time for Jacob to save himself.

“I do this,” he said heavily, “to protect you—”

“I do not feel protected,” Elizabeth snapped.

Silence fell as they both watched people promenade along the paths. For all the world could see, they were two acquaintances who had met coincidentally and had decided to sit and talk. Little could they know the depths of despair they were both in.

Jacob sighed heavily. “Sophia—Miss Worsley has said she will tell everyone about us if I do not marry her.”

Elizabeth turned to look at him, mouth wide open, and he nodded.

“Your reputation will be ruined, and you will lose the protection of the Howard family,” he continued. “You will no longer be the mother of their grandson. Then what will you do?”

Elizabeth hesitated. This was not something she could have predicted. Miss Worsley, blackmail Jacob into marriage? It was hardly the beginning of a caring marriage, but evidently, Sophia did not care about that. What she wanted was Jacob, and it looked as though she was going to get him.

And what was Elizabeth to do?She swallowed, trying desperately to think. If the news got out…if the Howards found out that Beau was a Beauvale, not a Howard, then she would certainly no longer be permitted to live at Lenskeyn House. She had nowhere else to go.

No,she thought fiercely. There was always something, wasn’t there?

“Your Miss Worsley sounds like a piece of work,” she said quietly. “Is that really a marriage you wish to enter? Blackmail and lies?”

“Better than you losing your reputation,” Jacob said, fire in his words now. “You and Beau…”

Elizabeth thought about it. It was not to be borne. “Marry me then. Do not marry Miss Worsley. Marry me—it will all end the same anyway. I will have lost my reputation, but…but we will be together.”

She could hardly believe she was saying this. Here she was, more than thirty years old and with a child, and she was having to propose to get the man she wanted.

Glancing at Jacob, however, she knew it was worth it. She would happily get on bended knee right here if it would mean Jacob would marry her. She loved him. Everything about him drew her to him, and they were connected now, through Beau, in a way no one else could ever replace.

In that instant, before Jacob replied, she was certain he would say yes.

He shook his head. “That is not possible. Do you not think I have already thought that, already tried to make it work? There is a will, a codicil that—’tis complicated, why don’t you just believe me when I say that?”

Jacob had not shouted, but the ferocity of his words tipped Elizabeth over the edge. Tears started to fall.

“I cannot talk to you like this,” Jacob snapped, rising to his feet. “I-I cannot do it. All you need to know is that this is at an end. Good day.”

Tears continued to fall as she watched the man she loved storm away. She had lost him forever, then. And Beau had lost his father.