The Lady Tamed by Boyd, Heather (urban books to read TXT) 📗

“He loves but never offers marriage. Why? Does he keep a mistress?”

Fanny felt a pang of discomfort at the question but in his role as her sweetheart, Jeremy might find himself in a situation where he was expected to know certain personal details about members of her family. “Not that I know of. He was married once but she died, and he never got over the loss. I miss Gabriella very much still, too. She was a fine woman and a good sister.”

Jeremy Dawes nodded slowly, watching her. “They say weddings bring happiness and melancholy. That’s why so many plays feature them.”

“Indeed, they do.” They reached the edge of the wood and stopped to admire the view of the Hawthorne estate from the boundary gateway. Fanny searched the distance and sighed. The pretty estate home and outbuildings had lost none of their charms since her last visit. Although…

She squinted at the land and buildings again, noticing the early signs of neglect perhaps. “The Hawthornes haven’t the same funds as my family. But they are good people. I heard a rumor yesterday all was not well, though. I see, problems here already. Some neglect.”

Jeremy looked at her quickly, and then the weed choked orchard. “I’ll hope that is not true.”

“So do I, Jeremy. So do I,” she whispered.

Chapter 4

Jeremy stood back as Lady Rivers greeted a tired old woman in a faded sitting room. “My dear, I would have come sooner had I known the news was so grim.”

Mrs. Hawthorne’s eyes welled with tears. “I did not want to believe I could lose him,” she whispered. “Not like this. Not yet. The children need their father. What will we do without him?”

Lady Rivers held Mrs. Hawthorne by the hand. “Antony is the best of men, and it is my hope he might pull through yet. We must have faith.”

Mrs. Hawthorne appeared not to have slept for a week or more. Her eyes were puffy, perhaps from crying, and there were deep grooves of sorrow etched on her face. Although he was glad to view such a sorrow-filled scene, Jeremy wished he had waited outside.

Unfortunately, Lady Rivers’ words only brought the woman closer to the brink of tears. Losing a husband and father must be difficult. Jeremy had never known his parents, or if he had, he couldn’t remember them now.

Mrs. Hawthorne seemed to calm slowly, but then she glanced toward Jeremy with an apologetic smile, as if just remembering he was standing there listening to her weep. She wiped her tears away. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”

Fanny smiled and gestured Jeremy closer. “My dear, this is Mr. Jeremy Dawes, my new London friend. He’s an actor and he’ll be joining us for my sister’s wedding.”

The woman mumbled a greeting of welcome. “Oh, yes, the wedding. An event sure to be a source of conversation for many years to come. I was very sorry to have missed your father’s wedding to dear Gillian, and yours, too. Now I could miss this one as well.”

“My wedding was many years ago,” Lady Rivers murmured.

“You were so beautiful,” Mrs. Hawthorne claimed.

“I was then.”

In Jeremy’s opinion, Lady Rivers was beautiful now. She had such vitality and a wonderful habit of laughing at almost everything he said. There were a handful of years’ difference in their ages, with Jeremy being younger, if he was right about his own age.

Mrs. Hawthorne dabbed at her eyes. “Perhaps I’ll be lucky and attend the next wedding. Yours perhaps.”

Fanny shook her head. “I shall never marry again. You know that.”

Mrs. Hawthorne sighed. “Not even for love?”

She laughed softly. “Especially not then. Love would suit me very ill. I’m enjoying life far too much on my own.”

“It suits me very well.” Mrs. Hawthorne sniffed. “I can’t bear to think of a world without my Antony.”

Fanny was suddenly hugging the woman, but Jeremy heard her whisper, “If I could survive losing Rivers, you can, too.”

And then Mrs. Hawthorne fell apart completely, sobbing her eyes out.

When Lady Rivers continued to hold the weeping woman, Jeremy began edging backward toward the door. This is where the scene should naturally end if it were a play. There was little he could do or say to be a comfort to a woman about to lose the love of her life. Everyone died, whether you loved them or not.

Jeremy had reached the doorway when Fanny noticed his intention was to go. “Thank you,” she mouthed, her arms still about the sobbing woman.

He retraced his steps toward the front door, uncertain of what to do with himself now though. But he would wait, of course, for when Lady Rivers had need of him again.

Before he reached the peace of the outdoors, however, he heard a sound.

A whisper quickly silenced. A whimper or a sob.

A young child.

Jeremy looked about for the source and found five sets of sad eyes watching him from a window seat in the nearest room. Fanny had only mentioned there was a daughter of marriageable age, not that there were a handful of tiny ones, too. They looked to be of an age to walk and talk but sat alone, with not a servant anywhere in sight to look after them. Their sad faces tugged at his heart.

He stepped cautiously into the room and lowered himself to their level. “Good morning.”

But they just watched him.

The children wore smocks and had their hair cut to a length just below their ears. It was impossible to tell boy from girl given the way they were dressed. They were probably too young to understand the scope of the loss that was about to befall the family, but they were sad just the same. “You’ll be all right if you look after each other, I promise,” he said, hoping that could be true. “What are your names?”

“They’ve been told to be quiet,” a woman said suddenly behind him. “And not talk to strangers.”

Jeremy shot to his feet and faced a woman