Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Elizabeth, at the window of her sitting room, was charmed by the scene before her.
It was a warm, sunny day with the gardens in full bloom and a small bunny hopping about madly while two sweet little boys—babies, really—squealed, laughed, and futilely tried to catch it.
It was a hopeful sort of day, even for someone who had long since given up on hope.
She winced as the smaller of the two boys tried desperately to reach the bunny and instead fell face-first on the stone-paved walk.
Ever the stoic, he permitted himself only the slightest of whimpers from the safety of his nursemaid’s arms before pushing away and seeking the bunny again.
Elizabeth shook her head as she watched him run, worrying he was too small for his age and wondering how he might be tempted into eating more than he presently did.
“Lizzy, my dear, why do you shake your head so?”
Elizabeth turned to her aunt and smiled. “He is so small. Little Edward is destined to be a good bit taller. Henry never eats.”
Lady Gardiner smiled. “It is the curse we bear as mothers. No matter what we see, there will be something over which to fret. Henry is a fine boy and growing well. He favours you. One could hardly expect any child of yours to be large, not unless you were to marry a man of much larger stature.”
The idea of marriage made Elizabeth frown. Before she could reply, Mrs Baynes, her housekeeper, entered. “Lord and Lady Matlock have arrived.”
“Oh yes, Lady Matlock said that she and the earl wished to speak to me this week.”
“Would you like me to leave?” asked Lady Gardiner.
“No, I cannot think there is anything they will say that you cannot hear, and if Lord Matlock thinks otherwise, he is sure to tell us straightaway. He is ever celebrated for his frankness.” She laughed lightly, and her aunt joined her.
“I cannot disagree. Very good, I shall stay.”
Elizabeth sent for some tea, and soon the door opened, and the Earl and Countess of Matlock were announced. The needed pleasantries were made, and Lady Matlock moved to the window to observe the two little boys at play.
“Lady Gardiner, where are your elder children?”
“Still at home in the schoolroom, my lady, with their governess.” Lady Gardiner smiled and indicated the seat next to hers. The Countess took the offered chair while the earl sat next to Elizabeth on the settee.
When all were settled, Elizabeth gave Lady Matlock an expectant look, and she, in turn, looked at her husband. He cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Elizabeth, you are looking very well—very well, indeed, my dear. I believe it was just your birthday, was it not?”
Elizabeth nodded warily, knowing that, when the earl resorted to overt flattery, it generally meant he wanted something. “Yes, last week.”
Lord Matlock chuckled in a determinedly cheerful manner. “Finally of age, dear?”
“I am just twenty.”
Lady Matlock shook her head. “Your experience has far outpaced your years.”
Elizabeth acknowledged her with the slightest inclination of her head.
There was an awkward silence while the occupants of the room stirred their tea, glanced out the window, or shifted uneasily in their seats. Finally, Lord Matlock spoke.
“I have good news for you. The key persons involved in the…ah…situation, one might say…have been…well, they have been…they are no longer of concern. Some met a different end—with these sorts of people, anything is possible. All are accounted for except the gunman, but he is not important. We believe he did not understand his part but was only doing as told. I doubt he even knows your identity. They will still seek him, of course, but he is not considered a threat to you.”
Elizabeth inhaled deeply. “So, that means…”
“You and his lordship are out of danger. You can go on with your life as you knew it.”
“My life as I knew it.” Elizabeth gave a bitter little laugh. “I am sure I do not even know what that means. My life as I knew it no longer exists. What am I? A country girl? A newly married peer? A young, widowed mother? I cannot say which version is the real one.”
“Oh, Lizzy—” Lady Gardiner began, but Lord Matlock continued in a brisk tone that he likely felt would hearten her.
“You will make a new life, I believe, one that encompasses the new with the old. You are Lady Courtenay and have many responsibilities, both to your husband’s estates and to his lordship. Of course, his lordship is your first concern.”
“Yes, I know.” Elizabeth spoke sharply, giving Lord Matlock a severe look.
Lady Matlock laid a quieting hand on her husband’s arm with a look that mimicked Elizabeth’s. Her words, directed at Elizabeth, were soothing. “You have done so much; no one could fault you, my dear. Lord Matlock would not suggest otherwise.”
“Certainly not,” the earl agreed. “But it is time to go on.”
“Go on?” Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”
An awkward pause ensued until Lord Matlock ventured forth. “We have spoken of this before, and as you are aware, your boy requires a father, and the only way he will get one—”
“I am in mourning!” Elizabeth exclaimed, pressing a hand to her bosom. “I lost my husband!”
“Two years ago! I do realise, based on your tender age—”
The settee screeched in protest as Elizabeth leapt to her feet and stood over Lord Matlock, her colour high. “My age has nothing to do with it! I loved Henry, and I shall not defame the memory of my husband.”
Lord Matlock was not cowed. He stood, raising his voice over hers. “Lord Courtenay would wish you to live up to the expectation—”
“Lord Courtenay is presently out of doors chasing a bunny!” Elizabeth shouted over him. “He has no expectation of anything beyond some biscuits later!”
Lady Gardiner rose hastily, coming to stand with them. She placed one hand on Elizabeth’s back. “Let us lay down our arms. I do not wish for Elizabeth to become distraught.”
With that, all were recalled to their manners and propriety. Lord Matlock tossed himself into the nearest chair with only a faint grumble indicating he was not truly offended. His wife gave him a reproachful glance, and he looked away, repentant.
Elizabeth was re-seated, blinking back tears. They mean well. They only want what is best for Henry…and for me. Quietly, she said, “Pray forgive me. I find myself a bit melancholy today. The anniversary you know…’tis a rather difficult time.”
Lady Matlock leant forward. “Yes, my dear, but it will get easier. I promise.”
Elizabeth nodded.
The countess continued, “Elizabeth, you have done more, and done it better, than any lady could. You do credit to yourself, the Courtenay family, and your own family. So please understand that what I say, I say with only the highest degree of respect.”
Elizabeth looked at her warily.
“Your son is a peer, and as such, he must be raised in a certain way—a way with which you are not familiar. There are things he needs, things that a father—the right sort of father—will provide. Guidance, experience, and the wisdom of generations are all necessary for a young man who will one day help shape the future of England.”
Elizabeth sighed and turned her face towards the window.
Lord Matlock spoke, his tone calmer than it had been earlier. “It will be to your advantage as well. Surely, you would like more children? You would not wish young Henry to be without brothers and sisters, would you?”
Elizabeth stared sullenly out the window.
“The notion of meeting gentlemen with the design of finding a husband is alarming. I was scarcely out when I married, and the society of Meryton is hardly the haut ton. I know nothing of identifying suitable gentlemen or turning away the dissipated. Alas, any mistake I should make will have significant consequence, not only for me but for my son.”
She turned her head to see the earl and countess exchanging glances. Lord Matlock slowly put his hand into his pocket and withdrew a paper.
“Your concerns do you credit,” he said gently. “Naturally, we should wish to provide every manner of assistance to you—arrange it all for you if you like.”
“What is that?” Elizabeth asked suspiciously.
Lady Matlock offered an explanation. “Among the higher circles of society, arrangements between houses are still common. Your next marriage will ideally elevate you and your son, along with any future children. If nothing else, you must ensure the estates and your husband’s family name do not diminish.
You must do that much for your late husband and for young Lord Courtenay. ”
“So that page would be…?” Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and fixed her gaze on Lord Matlock.
He shrugged and looked a bit sheepish. “Suitable prospects, if you will. Gentlemen who would be worthy of your consideration and who we believe are amenable to a match.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “You wish to broker my next marriage? Broker me?”
“No, no,” Lord Matlock said hastily. “Of course not, not at all…unless you would wish us to do so?”
Elizabeth gave a huff of annoyance. In truth, the notion seemed reasonable.
Once the necessity of remarriage was acknowledged, it was as sensible a scheme for obtaining a husband as any, particularly because the idea of falling in love again was absurd.
She could not fall in love because she was already in love with a dead man’s memory.
Thus, her object in a future marriage partner was one who was kind, intelligent, and a good father—one with the appropriate standing in society and who did not physically repulse her.
The earl and countess were certainly as capable of judging those qualities as she was.
Elizabeth resisted the idea a moment longer, looking back towards the window. She could not see her son but heard his shrieks of laughter, and she imagined him running about on the grass. Did they still seek the bunny, or had they gone on to a new game?