Chapter 28
Lewis could not forget the look on Bridget’s face as she fled his grandmother’s townhouse in tears.
Her lovely face had been flushed with uncomely red spots and her eyes bright with tears, and the sight of her so distraught because of him made his chest tighten.
They had not spoken much since that day; his wife was avoiding him.
And Lewis, who was so accustomed to being in control, had found himself at a loss as to how to confront his wife.
He had not been in the wrong, but he felt as though he had been.
Instead, he went to his grandmother’s house as always, taking care to ensure that Bridget remained far away.
That would have to be sufficient for the time being.
Lewis stepped inside his grandmother’s townhouse and gave a curt nod of acknowledgement to Mrs. Clove who awaited him at the base of the stairs.
“Good afternoon, Your Grace,” the woman said, dipping into a curtsey.
“Good afternoon,” Lewis echoed, shoving thoughts of Bridget as far away as he could. “How is my grandmother?”
“Her Grace is having a good day,” Mrs. Clove said. “There has been no disruption to her routine.”
“Wonderful,” Lewis said. “I was concerned that Bridget might have caused my grandmother’s condition to worsen.”
“No.” Mrs. Clove hesitated.
“What is it?” Lewis asked.
“Her Grace has asked after the Duchess of Wheelton,” Mrs. Clove said. “She wants to meet her again.”
Lewis shook his head. “I do not anticipate another meeting any time soon.”
The image of his grandmother, shaking and wrapped around the banister, was branded in his memory.
Then, Bridget had the gall to insist that his grandmother had recovered somewhat from the encounter that had left her so shaken, as if that was something to be celebrated!
It was enough to make Lewis want to scream, but he knew that he had only himself to blame.
He had decided to marry this young, foolish woman.
Had he truly expected that she would have learned to obey him so quickly?
He should have anticipated that she would do something rash.
“I do not…” Mrs. Clove trailed off, as if she had thought of something but feared saying it.
Lewis sighed deeply, a flare of irritation burning inside him. “Say what you will, Mrs. Clove. I do not have all day.”
“I disagree with your wife’s approach,” Mrs. Clover said, clasping her hands before her. “But the young duchess did seem rather adept in calming your grandmother’s nerves a little.”
“After she caused her great distress,” Lewis replied dryly.
“Yes, but maybe company would do Her Grace some good. It is promising that your wife seems—well—better with her than most.”
“Small mercies,” Lewis said.
He turned and climbed the stairs, making it clear to Mrs. Clove that he had no desire to continue the conversation.
There was not only his grandmother to consider, after all.
There was also Bridget. If Lewis relented too quickly and allowed Bridget to meet his grandmother, his wife would learn nothing.
She would assume that all her errors would be readily forgiven and cast aside, and she would continue with her selfish behavior.
Lewis entered his grandmother’s bedchamber and found her seated at her writing desk. Luckily, she wasn't in bed, which his grandmother usually was when upset.
“Good afternoon,” he greeted.
His grandmother turned her head and smiled at him. “Good afternoon. I was finishing my correspondence.”
Lewis took a spare chair and lowered himself into it. He glanced over his grandmother’s letter, which was addressed to the matron of a seminary for young ladies. While the woman had few acquaintances or friends, she doted on her charities. She was generous, nearly to a fault.
“Do not let me distract you,” Lewis said.
“I would not.”
It seemed as though this would be one of his easier visits. Lewis tried not to let the relief show on his face, as a wave of guilt washed over him. He should have been able to control Bridget.
Lewis and his grandmother had not spoken about Bridget either, even though he saw her every day at the same time. Perhaps that was for the best; he and his grandmother could continue to avoid discussing distressing subjects for as long as possible.
Lewis sat in silence, watching as his grandmother continued writing. She finished the letter and placed it aside, folding her hands in her lap. “How is your wife?” she asked.
Lewis grimaced. He had the worst luck!
“She is fine,” Lewis said in a clipped tone. “I trust she has not come for any further visits?”
“She has not.” His grandmother paused and seemed to consider him for a long moment. “I think I should like to see her again.”
Was that what she really wanted? Lewis barely managed to conceal his utter disbelief at the irrational notion. Had his grandmother already forgotten that she had panicked when faced with his wife? The poor woman’s fit had been so dreadful that she remained bedbound for two days after it!
“You will,” he said. “Once Bridget is in the right condition to meet you.”
His grandmother raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? Is she ill?”
Lewis shook his head. “I mean that she is unsuitable. She needs to be trained before—”
“Trained? She is not a dog.”
Lewis sighed. “I know she is not.”
“But you insist that she needs to be trained. People are not trained, Lewis.”
“I know,” Lewis said. “But she is wild and careless, and that makes her entirely unacceptable to be my duchess. Bridget must learn to behave before she associates with anyone, especially you.”
His grandmother stared at him as if he had just said something intolerably ridiculous to her. “She is not a social pariah, Lewis.”
Oh, if only his grandmother knew! Lewis would not dishonor his wife by sharing her scandals, though.
“It does not matter. She needs to be—”
“If you say trained!” his grandmother cried. “Lewis, people cannot be forced to change. They will do so only if they want to, and I wonder if you have considered what this young lady wants.”
Lewis inwardly flinched, as if he had been struck. He had not really given much thought to what Bridget might want. Aside from pleasure, of course, but any woman would want that.
“It is just a marriage of convenience,” he said.
Like many members of the ton had. So why did the realization that he had given so little thought to Bridget’s wants disturb him so greatly?
“She upset you,” Lewis said.
That was safer territory than wondering why he cared about what his wife of convenience wanted.
“Because I did not anticipate her,” his grandmother said. “If I knew that she was coming, I might do better.”
“You never do well with changes,” he said.
“But I could try,” she insisted. “I have given considerable thought as to how our meeting—our first real, cordial meeting—might be accomplished.”
Lewis crossed his arms. “Have you?”
“You need not sound so frustrated by me.”
“I am not frustrated with you,” Lewis said.
“You are.”
Lewis shook his head. “I am worried, and I have every reason to be.”
His grandmother looked pained. “I know that I am not the easiest person to take care of.”
Lewis winced, for he had thought that same sentiment many times. Did his grandmother know that he had? She did not sound especially accusatory, just a little sad. Resigned.
“I wish that I was well,” she continued. “I do. I regret that I am a burden on you.”
“You are not a burden on me.”
“Even if you say otherwise, I know that I am.”
Lewis ran his head through his hair and sighed deeply. “Please,” he said gently. “You are my family, and I love you. I am pleased to care for you.”
He wished that was entirely true, but it was not. If he was fortunate, his grandmother would not hear the lie in his words.
“The young lady is also my family, and I want to meet her,” his grandmother said. “I am willing to work hard and let her become a part of my life. I care about you, and she is a part of your life. I should know her.”
Lewis stared at his grandmother for a long moment.
Her eyes were determined, something which he seldom saw in her expression, and she looked—in that moment—like she might be invincible.
“I believe that you want to try,” Lewis said, softening his voice.
“But what if she upsets you again? It is safer to delay this meeting.”
“I suspect you wish to delay it forever.”
“Not forever,” Lewis said. “Just until you are both prepared.”
“And if I leave that decision to you, I will never again see the young Duchess,” his grandmother complained. “I will not demand an answer from you at once, but soon, I will want one. If I am to be more prepared for her arrival, I need to know when she is coming.”
Lewis said nothing, but he suspected that his grandmother was right. He would have found reason after reason to deny the two women the opportunity to meet once more.
“She will come with you,” she continued. “During your usual time. That way, I will already be anticipating visitors. And it will be difficult. I am certain that—that I will be stricken with some sudden fear by her arrival, but I will do my best to remain calm. I can take laudanum beforehand, even.”
“You detest laudanum,” Lewis said quietly.
“I know. But I do not wish to frighten your new bride,” his grandmother said. “I can take some before her first visit and try less and less until it is no longer needed.”
Lewis rubbed his face, lost in thought. His chest tightened at the thought of another encounter between his grandmother and Bridget because it might go so horribly wrong, but this was also the first time he had ever heard his grandmother so eager to meet someone new.
She was willing to plan and make efforts for the chance to meet Bridget and refusing her would be utterly heartless.
“I suppose that is a plan,” he said. “I will give it some thought and let you know when I believe Bridget will be ready.”
“When you will be ready,” his grandmother said mildly. “I suspect it is not Bridget who you are truly worried about.”
Perhaps that was a small part of it.
“I can be concerned about more than one person,” Lewis replied. “Now, might we discuss something else?”
“Yes, of course.”
There was nothing else that he particularly wished to discuss but dissuading her from meeting Bridget again was clearly impossible. At least, he could set the matter aside and avoid thinking about the inevitable for a little longer.
And so, he listened to his grandmother describe her day, which was much like all the others.
Lewis would have been dissatisfied with such a monotonous life, but to his grandmother, it was a great comfort.
During her discussion of flowers, Lewis’s mind wandered to Bridget.
What was she doing at that moment? Did she feel that her life was as consistent as his grandmother’s was? Did she want more?
Lewis’s heart fluttered. He needed to give more consideration to what Bridget might want. He needed her to be happy, and he just…
He could not quite discern why.