His Unexpected Bride (18 page)

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Authors: Jo Ann Ferguson

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“But until then, you have taken over the place of a surrogate mother for these children.”

“I do not think they have ever had the company of a mother.”

“On that, you are probably correct. You are showing a great deal of kindness in welcoming those children into your house.”

“They are my husband's nephews.”

“But not every new wife would open her door to her brother-in-law's side winds.” Mrs. Livingstone smiled, and Tess knew her confusion must be on her face when Mrs. Livingstone said, “I mean by-blows, Your Grace.”

Tess flinched at the form of address she could not accustom herself to, but did not reply as a maid set a tray with two glasses and pitcher of lemonade on the table beside her. Filling one glass, she handed it and a napkin to Mrs. Livingstone, then poured some lemonade for herself.

As soon as the maid had taken her leave, Mrs. Livingstone said, “I know you could have turned me away from your door, Your Grace, but I had a reason for calling other than expressing my sympathies now that you are out of first mourning. I have been away on a journey with a dear friend, but as soon as I returned to Town, I wanted to ease any concerns you might have about Cameron and me.” She smiled gently. “The very first concern I wish to ease is that there is no longer a ‘Cameron and me.' I am with Lord Stedley now.”

“Thank you for telling me that.”

“But you do not believe me?”

Tess wrung her napkin until she heard the fabric protest. Dropping it into her lap, she said, “I have no reason to believe or not to believe you, Mrs. Livingstone.”

“Ah, 'tis Cameron you do not believe.”

“That is not exactly the truth either. He has not said anything about you.”

“But you recognized my name.”

“Mr. Knox—”

Even Mrs. Livingstone's scowl could not ruin her perfect profile as she spat, “That man must have been fed with a shovel when he was a child, and he seems to find it impossible to keep that big mouth shut. You and Cameron had barely returned to Town before Mr. Knox was spreading the word of your wedding.”

“I do not understand why Cameron considers him a friend.” She put her fingers to her lips. She should not be speaking so of Cameron to this woman.

“You are not saying anything I have not said myself.” Mrs. Livingstone smiled again. “However, it is as simple as that, once Cameron selects a friend, he is loyal, no matter what.”

Even when his friend used blackmail to arrange Cameron's marriage?
She could not ask that. Falling back on the trite, she said, “That is an exemplary trait.”

“He is an exemplary man in many ways. I do not need to tell you that.”

Heat scored Tess's face. The intimacies that belonged to a husband and wife were what he had shared with this woman. Even a sip of the slightly sour lemonade could not ease the fire of embarrassment searing her.

“Your Grace, if I said something that has unsettled you, forgive me.”

Tess looked up to see Mrs. Livingstone's honest chagrin. “Of course. I am not myself just now.”

“Quite to the contrary, I would say. You seem very much as I have heard you described: pretty and pretty-mannered enough even to receive your husband's cast-off.”

“I appreciate that you came here to express your condolences and to be so honest with me about your current relationship with Cameron.” She had never guessed she would be speaking like this to her husband's former mistress. “It is pleasing for me to hear you state that what you shared is gratefully in the past.”

“Gratefully? Do not mistake my words. I greatly enjoyed the times I spent with Cameron, and there are times when I miss his calls. He is a man, as you must know, who challenges anyone around him with his quick wit.” She ran her finger along her glass. “Yet he has a gentle heart that is touched by the unhappiness of anyone around him.”

Tess was unsure how to reply. Yes, she recognized the description of his quick wit, but a gentle heart? If Cameron had one, he had hidden it very well from her. Deciding to be honest, she said, “The unhappiness is his now.”

“Yes.” Mrs. Livingstone rose. “I have taken too much of your time, Your Grace, when I wished only to offer my sympathies.”

“Thank you.” Tess stood, too, glad Mrs. Livingstone had misunderstood her rash words.

“You are very kind.” Mrs. Livingstone squeezed Tess's hand. “And you are, I believe, just what Cameron needs.”

So shocked she could think of nothing to say, Tess just nodded. She heard a commotion just as Mrs. Livingstone was walking out of the parlor door.

Going out into the hall, she saw Donald and Philip running up the stairs with two of the youngest footmen close behind. Both boys were chattering and covered with dirt and grass stains. Donald's breeches had a torn knee. Philip had two torn knees. Their smiles were so broad Tess could not keep from smiling in response.

Mrs. Livingstone edged around the filthy boys, regarding them with wide eyes. She looked back at Tess, but did not ask the questions she clearly was thinking. Before Tess could decide how best to explain about the boys when they would be eagerly listening, Mrs. Livingstone had bid her a good day and vanished down the stairs.

“A squirrel,” Philip was saying. “It ran right up the tree, but I almost caught it. Next time—”

“Who was that lady?” interrupted Donald as he peered over the railing to the foyer below.

“Mrs. Livingstone,” Tess replied.

“She is pretty.”

“Yes.” She put her hand on his ruddy curls. “She is.”

“I like her.” Philip spoke with an authority that brought his father to mind. “She smiled at us. Will she be coming back?”

Tess steered them toward the stairs to the upper floors. “Not today. You need to get cleaned up before supper.”

The boys grumbled, and she heard the footmen chuckling. No doubt they recalled hearing similar words during their own childhoods. Turning, she asked the footmen to arrange for warm water to be brought to the room the boys shared. It overlooked the garden at the back of the house, so it was close to the stairs to the kitchen, where the boys enjoyed going to wheedle a treat out of the cook whenever they had the chance.

The little boys continued to complain until Tess offered to have them join her for tea in her rooms. When they were scrubbed and pink-cheeked and sitting on her settee holding a cake each, she listened to them laughing about their misadventures outside.

“So you like animals?” she asked when Donald barely paused in his story of chasing a squirrel to take another bite of his cake.

He nodded, frosting emphasizing his smile.

“Would you like to see my pet?” She had thought about this a great deal during the past week. Although hedgehogs were leery of strangers, she believed, after seeing how gentle the little boys were with the cat that loitered by the kitchen begging for scraps, she could trust them with Heddy.

Philip bounced to his feet. “See it! See it now!”

Standing, Tess held out her hands. Two smaller ones, sticky with frosting, grasped them. She took them into her bedchamber. Putting her finger to her lips, she watched their eyes grow big as she lifted off the cloth that allowed Heddy to sleep during the daylight.

“What is it?” Donald asked, standing on tiptoe to see into the cage.

She picked up Philip so he could see. “A hedgehog.”

“But what is a hedgehog?”

She was shocked speechless. Several of the favorite stories she had read over and over when she was not much older than Donald had been filled with all sorts of animal characters. From the time when she was very young, she had seen hedgehogs in the garden and along the country roads.

“They live beneath bushes and in the hedgerows, and they eat insects and worms.”

“Insects and worms?” Philip's face twisted in disgust.

“Do they eat caterpillars?” Donald shivered. “Those would tickle.”

Tess smiled and covered the cage again. “I have never fed Heddy caterpillars. Mayhap we can offer her one if we find one in the garden.”

“Take her out!” crowed Philip.

Herding them from her room, she put her finger to her lips again. “You must be quiet around Heddy. She is very afraid of strangers.”

“Just like Philip,” said Donald with a condescending glance at his brother. For the length of a heartbeat, Tess saw his father's expression on his face.

Before Philip could snarl back an answer, she replied, “Sometimes it is wise to be fearful. If Heddy lived in the garden and was not careful, a dog or a hawk could come and carry her off. She might step in front of a carriage or a rider. Even though she rolls into a ball when she is frightened, she could not fight off a dog.”

Tess continued answering their questions about Heddy and promised them they could see the hedgehog again tomorrow. When she said the hedgehog would be wide awake with coming of dark, the boys pelted her with pleas to be able to stay up late enough to see that. She smiled as she agreed—if they would go to bed without complaint this evening.

The boys proved how much they wanted to see the hedgehog awake when they were as good as they had promised. When she went in to kiss them good night, Donald asked as he climbed into bed, “Will Uncle Cam be coming to look at Heddy, too?”

She doubted they understood why she was trying not to laugh. The boys continued to call Cameron “Uncle Cam.” Whether Cameron liked it or not, she was unsure.

She tucked the covers around him. “Mayhap. He will be pleased to know you are asking about him.”

The two boys exchanged a glance she could easily read. They did not miss their uncle, whom they had seen seldom since they came here. She had been careful not to mention Cameron was busy trying to untangle the mess of debts and obligations his brother had left as a legacy.

As she closed the boys' door, she looked at the one across the hall. It had not been opened in the past week, because Cameron was too busy to enjoy his avocation. She sighed, hoping there were no more ways their lives could be turned upside down.

“Gone?” Tess stood, dropping her embroidery to the floor. “What do you mean?”

Large tears welled up in Philip's eyes, then fell along his face. “I did not mean to … I just wanted to …”

“He let Heddy out,” Donald announced, crossing his arms over his narrow chest.

“You wanted to, too!”

“I did not. I knew Tess would be angry if—”

Tess had no interest in listening to them pulling caps. Most likely, both boys had been unable to resist the temptation of going in to see the hedgehog. “Did she bite you?”

“Only once.” Philip held up his bleeding thumb.

Rushing to the bellpull, Tess tugged. Harbour and two footmen arrived at the same time. The two footmen who were supposed to be watching over the children, she noted with a scowl. She gave quick orders. One footman took Philip to have his thumb cleaned and bandaged while the other and Harbour followed her up the stairs, Donald hurrying after them as quickly as he could. She slowed when she saw her door was closed.

“I shut it,” Donald said, pushing to stand beside her. “I thought we could find Heddy more easily if she was still in your room.”

“An excellent thought.” She patted his head. “Take care when you open the door. I doubt if she will scurry out, because she is more apt to find a shadowy place to hide.”

Harbour set the footman, Jenette, and Cameron's valet, Park, to work looking for the hedgehog in the sitting room. He went with Tess into the bedroom and got down on his hands and knees to peer under the furniture. When he chuckled, he said, “This reminds me of searching for my own pet before my mother was the wiser. Where does your hedgehog usually go to hide?”

“She never has escaped from her cage before.”

“Then she may have not gone far.” He bent to look under the bed.

Tess squatted to see under the dressing table. Her eyes widened when she saw something in the shadows. Although it was the wrong size for Heddy, she plucked the item out. It was a simple box that had been covered in leather. Opening it, she saw a military medal lying within. She was not certain which one it was, but it glinted silver in the lamplight. She slowly closed the box and put it on the dressing table.

“So that is where it went to,” Harbour said, glancing over his shoulder.

“What is it?”

“Lord Hawk—His Grace's medal he received after his service at Boney's final defeat.”

“I did not realize Cameron was at Waterloo,” Tess said, pretending not to notice the butler's slip. It was difficult to get used to calling Cameron by his new title when he was rarely here.

“That was where he was wounded.”

“Wounded?” she gasped, horrified.

“You never asked him about the scar above his eyebrow?” Harbour asked, still on his hands and knees as he peeked back under the bed.

“No.”

“May I say, Your Grace, that you show an admirable lack of curiosity?” He sat back on his heels, then gathered his feet beneath him and stood. “When I was courting my wife, her father quizzed me about every facet of my life.”

She hated lying, but she could not reveal the truth to the butler. Not only did she wish to spare Cameron the embarrassment of revealing the truth about their wedding, but Papa's request to conceal why he had been a party to it kept her from being honest.

“I have heard,” she replied, “there is always more to discover about one's spouse.”

Hearing shouts from the other room, Tess jumped to her feet and raced out there. Donald was hopping from one foot to the other as he pointed to one of the potted plants by the window.

“Right there, Aunt Tess. Right there!” he cried.

Tess gently elbowed past him and lifted a leaf to see Heddy curled up, her bristles pointing out in every direction. When the footman reached to pick up the hedgehog, Tess shook her head. She picked up the cloth that had covered the top of the cage. Draping it over her hands, she scooped the frightened hedgehog out of the planter and carried her back to the cage in her bedroom.

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