Patrina did what she’d been longing to do since the harridan had stolen the small vestige of happiness she’d grabbed for herself in these nine months. She pointed to the door. “If you will. I’d like you gone.”
The Viscountess Merewether stood. Her mouth opened and closed several times and then on a huff she swept across the floor and pulled the door open. Mother and the three Tidemore sisters spilled into the room. Weston’s sister snapped her skirts and all but shoved past the array of black-haired girls.
“Well, I never!” Mother exclaimed, striding into the room. “Of all the outrageous, heinous, impolite things to do.” By her heavy emphasis on impolite Mother clearly indicated what charge she found to be the most egregious.
“That shrew!” Prudence chimed in.
“She is horrid!” Poppy said on a cry. “Er, horrible,” she amended when everyone looked to her. “This isn’t a time to scold me on my use of horrid,” she said quickly. “This is about—”
“That woman,” Penelope seethed.
And just like that, the viscountess became that woman, joining the ranks of the Albert Marshvilles of the world.
Her sisters’ loyalty tugged at her heart. Even Mother, who’d moved with an impersonal politeness around Patrina since the failed elopement, staunchly defended her eldest daughter. Her family’s unwavering love made the pain of regret somewhat less aching.
Mother began to pace. “Well, it is no matter. She can demand whatever she wants a million times to Sunday. The decision is not hers. The decision is yours, Patrina.”
Yes. And sadly, she’d already made it. She’d made her decision when she’d run off recklessly with Albert Marshville, and that act could never be undone. “I require paper and a pen.”
Mother paused mid-stride. Her eyebrows shot to her hairline. “Never tell me…you do not intend to…”
“I cannot marry him, Mother,” she said quietly.
“Of course you can!” Mother and the Tidemore sisters exclaimed.
She shook her head. “I can’t. I’m ruined. And I’ll not ruin his children.” Even though he’d told her nothing else mattered—it did. He, Charlotte and Daniel, they all mattered.
“Bah, his children are young. They’ll not be affected by the scandal.”
Patrina would wager not even her own mother believed that effortless lie.
Poppy touched a hand to her shoulder. She started, not having realized her sister had made her way over to her. “What will you say, Patrina?”
Tears clogged her throat. She shook her head. She really didn’t know.
CHAPTER 16
Weston picked up a roll and smeared butter upon the flaky, white, still-warm bread.
“Will Lady Patrina have a new gown?” Charlotte called from across the breakfast table.
He glanced over at his daughter and opened his mouth to speak.
“Who cares whether she has a new gown?” Daniel grumbled.
“Daniel,” he scolded.
The nursemaid seated beside Daniel leaned over and whispered something in the boy’s ear.
His son shoveled a heaping spoonful of eggs into his mouth. “Well, it’s true,” he said around the food.
“When will you two wed?” Charlotte continued. “Will she live here?”
“Surely you don’t expect she’ll live with her own mama,” Daniel shot back.
Weston fixed a hard stare on him and his son dropped his gaze to his plate. “Yes. Lady Patrina will live here,” he said to his daughter. “Will you,” He hesitated. “mind having her share our home?”
Charlotte wildly shook her head. “Oh, no. Not at all, Papa. It shall be good fun having a mother. Do you believe she will take me for ribbons?”
A footman entered bearing a silver tray. He carried the missive over to Weston.
“I imagine she will, Char.” He absently picked the note up, studying the delicate scrawl upon the sheet. His daughter beamed and continued to prattle on. He unfolded the sheet and scanned the page. His heart thudded to a stop. And when it resumed beating, it beat a hard, painful rhythm inside his chest. He quickly re-read the lines.
Dear Weston,
I wanted to thank you so much for the short, though beautiful gift of your children. Both you, as well as Charlotte and Daniel’s presence, has brought me much joy in a recently dreary world.
Upon further consideration, however, with strictly the well-being of your children in mind, I must rescind my acceptance of your very generous offer of marriage.
I bid you and your family every happiness…
Signed…
Weston surged to his feet. “My horse,” he thundered to a footman at the edge of the door. She’d simply sever the connection after having accepted his offer to protect his children? She did so with his family’s happiness in mind? If that had been the case, she’d have realized Weston, the Marquess of Beaufort didn’t do anything he didn’t wish to do. And more, she’d filled his life with more happiness than he’d ever thought to know after his wife’s treachery. A knot formed in his stomach. He’d allowed Patrina to believe he would enter into a union with her for the sole purpose of providing a mother for his children. He scrubbed a hand over his face. He should have told her earlier how much she’d come to mean to him. The day they’d sat piecing together the kissing bough, he should have taken her in his arms and assured her that he wanted her for her…wanted her because he loved her.
Such a revelation should riddle him with terror.
And yet, it didn’t come. Instead, a semblance of calm and the absolute rightness in loving her filled Weston.
The liveried servant hurried out of the room.
“What is it?” Charlotte called. Lines of worry creased her small brow.
He forced himself to take several calming breaths. “Nothing, poppet,” he assured her. “A matter of business.” It had begun as merely a kind of business proposal “to see to.” But at some point, it all changed. He needed her when he’d not allowed himself to depend on anyone for all these years now. He craved her smile and her laughter. He yearned for her gentle teasing. He longed to lay her down and lay claim to her lean, lithe body. And he’d be damned if he let some misguided sense of honor allow her to snuff the happiness she’d brought him.
“Is it about Lady Patrina?” Daniel, clever and world-wary for one of his tender years, asked. “She probably decided she didn’t want us, too,” he mumbled that last throwaway comment beneath his breath.
Weston’s gut wrenched at the reminder of the pain wrought by Cordelia—a woman who had placed her happiness before that of even her own children. Unlike Patrina who would set them aside to keep them safe. He clenched his jaw. Like hell, she would. “Look at me, Daniel.”
His son hesitated and then raised his stubborn, angry gaze to Weston. “Lady Patrina cares very much about you and Charlotte.”
Daniel pushed the uneaten egg about his plate with his fork and gave a reluctant nod.
Now, it became a matter of convincing the young lady that not only his children needed her…but he needed her, as well. And he’d never wanted anything or anyone more.