Always the Widow by Emily E.K. Murdoch

Chapter Eighteen

Jacob swallowed and tasted the bile in his throat. There was no going back after this. This was it. The most sacred, the most solemn day of his life, and he had no opportunity to recant once the vows were taken.

Sunlight streamed through the stained glass and painted pictures on the whitewashed walls.

Today was the day Miss Worsley became Lady Westray.

Jacob stamped his feet on the stone floor and heard the echo. This could not be real. His wedding was weeks away—maybe months!

But each day had slipped by, unnoticed, until finally, he had woken up that morning with a sense of dread he could not ignore.

Jacob turned to look at the pews filling with the good and the great of Bath society. Here he was, standing at the front of the altar, waiting for his bride. His fate.

His commitment to one woman, the woman he did not love.

His jaw clenched, causing tension in his neck and shoulders, but at least he could feel that. Everything else just seemed numb. He was numb. Life had continued, despite him wishing it to slow down.

Damn and blast it, but he should be better than this!Jacob cursed as much as he could silently, feeling guilty for such thoughts in a holy place.

This was ridiculous. Every day for the last week, perhaps longer, he had awoken with the absolute conviction that he would break off his engagement to Sophia.

It had to be done. It would be painful, and it may not be quick, but it was imperative he do it.

Now it was too late.

Jacob turned around. There were fewer gaps in the pews now, more familiar faces in the seats behind him.

Well, he had sold himself and no mistake. That accursed codicil.

No, he could not blame his parents. He had decided to follow the letter of those rules. He had himself to blame.

Jacob had never considered himself a weak man. Not until today. For all his fine talk, his card-playing, his jests with his friends, he had proved himself a coward.

He had seen the opportunity to gain a larger income, and despite all his talk that money was not the most important thing in life, that friendship and respect were more important, here he was. Marrying a woman he did not love, while a woman he did love walked the earth with their child alone.

Yes, he would get the additional income. Much good it would do him. Guineas he would have, but no self-respect.

“If I did not know you better, Westray, I would say you seem a little nervous.”

Jacob turned back to smile at his best man. William Lennox, Duke of Mercia, was grinning in the same ridiculous get-up Jacob had been tied and buttoned into.

“Yes,” he said aloud without adding any details.

Just how honest could he be with his best man?It was Charlotte, William’s wife, that Jacob really knew. His closest friend had been on his honeymoon tour still, more’s the pity, and Charlotte and her brother had been so good to him over the years.

William was honorable enough to be told a secret—but the trouble was, Jacob thought he was probably too honorable. So honorable that he probably would not permit him to leave the wedding.

William would force him to come back, marry Miss Worsley, and have done with it. Jacob would not be surprised if his best man would use the barrel of a gun if he had to.

He was still watching Jacob closely, who laughed and tried to force a smile.

“Is not every gentleman nervous on his wedding day?”

William shook his head. “I have to say not. I did not feel any nerves, save that Charlotte might change her mind and decide to do without me.”

Jacob laughed and then stopped. “You—you are not in earnest?”

William shrugged. “I very much believe I was getting the better end of that deal, and I became concerned she would realize that. I was excited.”

Jacob felt a wave of nausea overwhelm his stomach. Was this happiness?

It felt more like regret for an action he had not even yet taken.

Was happiness something one could learn?Over time, was it possible to find a kind of happiness, even if it were not as deep and meaningful?

Could he and Sophia, somehow, find an equilibrium that would bring them both joy?

Jacob attempted to think back on his times with Sophia as the organ started to play, and his wedding guests started to chatter excitedly. He had so few memories of his time with her. He had courted her for months, and they had planned this wedding for almost a year.

But joyful times, laughter, conversation that challenged him, intrigued him, entertained him?

Those memories existed, but not with Sophia. It was Elizabeth. Elizabeth and their son. His son.

Elizabeth and Beau had utterly overtaken all his waking thoughts, his memories, and now it was too late to do anything about it.

Sophia was the woman he should focus on now, but how could he? Jacob closed his eyes as though that would block out the noise of the organ, the chatter of the people gathered here to watch Miss Sophia Worsley become Lady Westray. Still, the only person who appeared in his imagination was Elizabeth.

“I wonder how many gentlemen have cold feet at this point,” grinned William, nudging Jacob from his reverie. “You better not need an extra pair of socks!”

“Do not jest,” Jacob said stiffly.

He should not have spoken.

William’s face fell, and he lowered his voice as he said, “Hell, Westray, you aren’t serious?”

Jacob sighed heavily. It was better to keep his mouth shut, but he had to talk to someone about this. Even if it was the last time he uttered his feelings for Elizabeth.

“Let us just say, I have not entered into this betrothal without some regrets.”

For some reason, this pronouncement seemed to please William. “Ah, I see. If you are worried you won’t be able to bed any more women, trust me—once you have found the right one, it doesn’t matter. All you want to do is be with her.”

Jacob thought irresistibly of Elizabeth. “I have found the right one.”

His best man slapped him on the back. “Excellent.”

“I am not marrying her.”

The look of delight on William’s face quickly vanished. “What did you just say?”

Jacob leaned closer to him. “Look, you are my best man, confidant—confessor? I cannot lie to you. And do not worry, I am not going to do anything foolish. This wedding is going ahead, whether I want it to or not.”

His words had been intended to reassure his companion, but all they seemed to do was horrify him.

With a shocked look, William whispered, “Truly. You are in love with another?”

Jacob did not trust his voice. Why had he not asked William for help before? Perhaps his subconscious had tried when his feet had taken him to his door last week—but with guests already in attendance, it had been impossible to speak with him privately.

He nodded and turned once more to look at the congregation. Everyone should be here by now, Sophia would be here any—

Elizabeth, there at the back of the church, holding a small bundle of life that could only be his son.

His heart twisted.

“I am hardly one to talk, I am sure,” muttered William. “I had made plenty of my own mistakes with the ladies before I met Charlotte, but come on, man. Marrying a woman you do not love when you are in love with another…”

His voice trailed off, as though attempting to make sense of Jacob’s predicament left him speechless.

“Well,” he said hopelessly with a shrug. “It makes no sense to me.”

It was difficult not to feel defensive at William’s nonchalance. After all, he had his happily ever after, his bride, and now their two children. It was easy with hindsight to know the decision he had made had been the right one.

“It does not have to make sense to you,” he said, fire in his tone. “It just has to make sense to me.”

William did not respond immediately. His temper had been cooled in France, Jacob knew, when losing one’s temper could mean the difference between life and death.

Jacob was still watching Elizabeth, who was resolutely not looking in his direction.

“And does it?” William asked quietly.

Jacob swallowed. No, none of this made sense. All he wanted was Elizabeth, and he was not going to have her—not unless she agreed to be his mistress.

The organ changed its tune. The wedding march began, the congregation rose to its feet, and the doors to the church were thrown open. A figure appeared outlined against the sun.

This was it.Jacob swallowed. He had run out of road, of time, of excuses, and within an hour, he would be married to Sophia.

He would be loyal to her. Once she was his wife, he would never think about—he would attempt never to think about Elizabeth, nor the child they shared, other than organizing the money.

There was no other option.

The figure in the church doorway stepped forward and became two figures. Sophia and Mr. Worsley. As they started to walk down the aisle, Sophia glanced around her with a smile on her face.

That smile froze as she saw Elizabeth. It became a scowl that quickly flickered back into a smile as she beheld her other guests.

Jacob tried not to sigh. Was it to be like this for the rest of his life, then? Would he ever be able to see Elizabeth, to see Beau without Sophia sneering? Would she make it impossible for them to ever meet? What if she found out about the money, stopped it somehow, leaving Beau and Elizabeth penniless?

As Mr. Worsley handed over his daughter’s hand to Jacob, he smiled at his future son-in-law. Sophia was wearing a beautiful veil that did not hide her expression. The smile she turned to Jacob was composed.

“I was not sure,” she whispered, “whether you would be here.”

Jacob smiled wanly and fought the temptation to say he did not either. It would not do to admit considering jilting a bride who had been jilted before.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of God,” began the vicar.

Jacob could not pay attention. It was taking all his iron will not to look at Elizabeth, but he knew she was now looking at him. Her gaze burned a hole in this soul.

The moment drew closer when he would vow to love, honor, and stay with Sophia for the rest of his life.

Elizabeth was all he wanted. The idea of not being with her—the idea of her one day marrying another man, of sharing with that faceless stranger the intimacy they had shared together…

Jacob could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage. A life without Elizabeth was not one worth living. A life without her and their son—without Beau. How could he countenance it?

Sophia was smiling far more naturally now. She was about to get everything she wanted: a husband, at last.

So lost was Jacob in his thoughts, that it took almost a full minute of silence and then someone in the congregation coughing for him to realize everyone was waiting for him to do or say something.

“What?” he said distractedly.

There was laughter across the church, and Sophia’s grip on his hand tightened.

“Do not worry yourself,” the old vicar said kindly. “Tis very common, people get nervous when it comes to saying the vows. One hears it so often, I quite forget the momentous event it is for others. I said, do you take this woman to be thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the Holy Estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her? Comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others keep only unto her as long as you both shall live?”

Jacob swallowed. It would be so simple to take the easy way out. To do what he wanted, rather than what he should do.

But could he live with himself?

“I do not.”

There was stirring in the congregation and muffled laughter.

The vicar laughed nervously. “No, the phrasing is—”

“I am sorry, Sophia—Miss Worsley,” said Jacob hurriedly under his breath as he looked into her eyes—eyes growing more furious with every passing syllable. “I believe you will thank me for this one day, though I can understand it may take some time. But I cannot marry you.”

There was a gasp from everyone in the church. William coughed loudly, and Mrs. Worsley raised a handkerchief to her eyes.

“You are going to jilt me,” Sophia said in a low voice full of steel. “Right here at the altar? As though I have not suffered enough—as though I do not have the knowledge to ruin not only your life but those you purport to love?”

Jacob took a deep breath. “Yes. And it is the best decision for you I will ever make. One day, I promise you will understand. You will thank me.”

The shouting started as he strode down the aisle without his bride, and the gasps and shrieks of surprise echoed as he grabbed Elizabeth’s hand and pulled her with him.

“What—Lord Westray, let go!” she protested, but he paid no heed.

He had done it now, and no one could change his mind.He was committed, and no amount of attempting to pull away from him or shouts of ‘Bring him back!’ from Mr. Worsley could stop him.

The day was sunny and bright outside, with just a hint of a breeze. As they stepped out of the church and turned a corner into a lane, Elizabeth managed to pull her arm from his grip.

Jacob stopped to look at her. Never before had she appeared so incensed.

“You cannot do that! What on earth do you think you are doing—go back in there and—”

“No,” said Jacob simply.

Beau was still in his mother’s arms and was grinning cheerfully at the gentleman he recognized so well, which was not helping Jacob’s concentration.

“Y-You said you had to marry her!” spluttered Elizabeth. “You said you—why are you doing this? Are you determined to ruin my reputation as well as your own?”

Jacob said nothing. In that instant, he knew he had made the right decision.

True, Elizabeth appeared to be furious with him, but he had never felt more at peace. This was the right decision.

Ignoring her words and being careful not to crush Beau, Jacob stepped forward and kissed Elizabeth firmly on the mouth.

He had expected her to push him away—curse him, perhaps, swear she would never have anything more to do with him.

Elizabeth melted into his arms. Her free hand clutched the back of his neck, pulling him closer, and the only reason their kiss did not deepen into something more passionate was the presence of their son in her arms.

When Jacob finally pulled away, Elizabeth’s eyes were bright, and the look of scorn had disappeared.

“For our son,” Jacob said simply. “For all our future sons and daughters, and each other. For you. That is why I am doing this.”

Elizabeth smiled. “We will be notorious. Everyone will guess, now, the true parentage of our son. Have you considered that?”

Jacob grinned. “Trust me, I have thought about it too much. I would rather be notorious with you than miserable with Sophia.”

Elizabeth’s smile widened. “Well, in that case, we have a wedding to plan.”