“That is correct,” Rebecca said as she met Judy’s gaze.
“Well count me in,” Landborough said. “I’ve been waiting years for such an opportunity, and now that it’s here, I find that I’m rather looking forward to it.”
After thanking the Landboroughs for their support and departing their home, the Wolvingtons then accompanied Rebecca to a modiste shop so she could be fitted for a mourning gown. Conveniently, the dressmaker had three black gowns set aside in various sizes in the event that one would be needed, so all that was required were a few minor adjustments before one of the gowns fit Rebecca perfectly.
Seated in the Wolvington carriage on their way back to Avern House, Lady Wolvington surprised Rebecca by assuring her that extra servants would be sent to her home later in the day. “The house is understaffed, and now that you have a bedridden husband to care for you’ll need all the help you can get.” Rebecca didn’t argue, knowing that things had not been easy for any of the servants even before the shooting, when Daniel had been able to help. She was grateful to Lady Wolvington for the consideration.
“And I will make a deposit to Daniel’s account,” Lord Wolvington said. To clarify, he added, “It is clear that he did the right thing, even if it does go against the rules of Society. He did save you, and the fact that he is willing to do whatever is necessary in order to support you shows a level of maturity in him that he did not possess before he met you.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Rebecca said, happy that Lord Wolvington was willing to forgive what Daniel had done and was finally able to see what a wonderful man he truly was. But she was reluctant to accept his offer of financial support, knowing that Daniel had wanted to try and manage on his own—to prove himself capable of supporting his family without relying on help from anyone. So she said, “That is most generous of you, but I would advise that you discuss doing so with Daniel first.”
“You think he might refuse?” Lord Wolvington asked, sitting back and looking moderately surprised.
“I do,” she said. “Not because he holds a grudge toward you but because he’s quite determined to prove himself capable of more than what everyone expects of him.”
There was an unmistakable look of admiration in the eyes of the Wolvingtons as they gazed back at Rebecca. “Whatever you’ve done . . . thank you,” Lady Wolvington said, her eyes glistening with emotion. “We’ve been so worried about him and his future for so long, but it is clear that you have had a positive effect on him.”
Lord Wolvington cleared his throat. He looked slightly uncomfortable with the direction in which the conversation was heading. “When he’s feeling better I should like to speak with him,” he said. The carriage rolled to a stop in front of Rebecca’s home. “Until then, however, I trust that you will keep us informed of any further developments?”
“You have my word on it, my lord.”
He nodded, but there was no mistaking the concern he felt, for his face was grave and his voice quite serious when he said, “Please be careful, Lady Rebecca. We know what Grover is capable of now, and if he wanted Daniel dead so he could have you for himself . . . I would hate to see you harmed in any way.”
Lady Wolvington nodded in agreement, and Rebecca promised them both that she would take care. The door to the carriage opened, and Hawkins was there to help her alight and to carry her parcel into the house. An obituary would appear in the paper the following morning— Daniel’s brother-in-law had promised to see to that—and once that happened, Rebecca was certain that Grover would come calling.
“How did it go?” Daniel asked when she returned. “You were gone for some time, so I imagine you were successful?”
“Yes. I spent a lovely afternoon with your family, and I also have a new gown.” She placed her box on the bed next to Daniel’s legs and pulled back the lid to reveal the black twill. “So from this moment forth, you will not move from this room. We must be as convincing as possible—the slightest suspicion and our plan will fail. And to that effect, I should like to change into my new dress if you would be so good as to unbutton the back for me.” She came around to his side of the bed and sat down on the edge of it, close enough for Daniel to offer his assistance, his fingers making quick work of the long row of buttons. When he was done, she felt his breath against her back, followed by a quick succession of kisses along her spine. She felt her breath catch and her skin grow hot, but she pushed the temptation aside and stood up. “Forgive me, but I really must get ready, my love. Your aunt is sending servants over, and I should like to be there to greet them when they arrive.”
“Servants?”
“The Wolvingtons forgave our decision to elope after realizing what Grover is truly like. Your uncle was particularly incensed at discovering Grover tried to murder you.” She slipped out of her gown and picked up her widow’s weeds, stepping into the black dress while Daniel watched with delicious appreciation in his eyes. She had to try and focus on the issue at hand. “He wants to make amends and even offered to make a deposit in your account. I asked that he speak with you first.”
Daniel nodded and she turned her back on him, resuming her seat on the edge of the bed so he could button up her new gown. “You did the right thing,” he said, “for I should like to make an attempt at making a living on my own. If I fail, we can turn to my uncle, but I should like to at least try and manage without him first.”
Chapter 25
“The Griftons are here to see you, my lady,” Laura announced the following morning. Her dislike for the visitors was clear in every part of her being, including her voice, which dripped with distaste, as if she’d just bitten into a bad apple.
Rebecca looked up and smiled. “Thank you. If you would please ask Molly to arrange for some tea, I’ll be right down.”
When she stepped out of the bedroom, Laura was still there, waiting for her. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of the master, but I was wondering if you would like me to join you in the parlor so you don’t have to be alone with them.”
“Now that you mention it, Laura, I do believe I’d appreciate that. Do you have some embroidery with which to pass the time?”
Laura nodded. “I’ll take the seat in the corner, but I’ll be there should you need me.”
Rebecca felt awash with relief. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been dreading this encounter, for her last meeting with her aunt had not gone well. The woman was simply incapable of saying anything pleasant. On a deep breath, Rebecca descended the stairs and entered the parlor, where she greeted her aunt and uncle, who were already comfortably seated side by side on the sofa. “What a pleasant surprise,” she said, hating the good manners and proper upbringing that forced her to be polite and wishing she’d had the audacity to ask them to leave and stay away from her instead.
“Well, we just had to come right over after seeing the announcement in the paper this morning,” her aunt said. There was a beat of silence, and then she asked, “Is it true? Well, I suppose it is, considering the way you’re dressed. Such a pity, really. Black never was your color, and especially not with that raven-colored hair—why, you look positively ghoulish! Never mind though. I’m sure you’ll marry again soon enough and then we can put this disaster of a marriage behind us. Why, it didn’t even last two weeks, but then again, I doubt anyone is surprised by that, considering Mr. Neville’s history. In fact, I’m surprised it took this long for someone to off him.” She heaved a big sigh that made her entire body shake. “If only you’d listened to us in the first place, this never would have happened. Thank goodness the duke is the forgiving sort though; a missive from him arrived just as we were heading out, informing us of his intentions to resume his courtship of you now that you are no longer attached. I hope that you will show him the gratitude he deserves this time.”
Rebecca stood openmouthed, staring back at her aunt, who had finally come to a stop in her diatribe. Rebecca’s husband was supposed to be dead and her aunt was sitting there on a sofa that he or his parents had once purchased, cheerfully saying what a fortunate occurrence his sudden demise had been. It was abhorrent. And then, without stopping for breath, she’d gone on to push Rebecca back in the arms of Grover. It didn’t matter that this was exactly in line with Rebecca’s plan; her aunt’s attitude still disgusted her. Rebecca sat down in one of the armchairs and stared back at her relatives, wondering how the woman before her could possibly have been her father’s sister. Rebecca’s father had been nothing like this. He’d been kind and gentle. “I think it in poor taste to speak ill of the dead, Aunt, especially since I chose Mr. Neville for myself,” she said, proud of how steady her voice sounded.
“And what a foolish thing that was,” her uncle said. “You jeopardized your chance with Grover when you ran off with that good for nothing. Your aunt is right—your husband meeting such an early end was the best thing that could happen to you. It will give you a chance of righting your mistake, of that I have no doubt.”
What was going on? Did they think her an imbecilic child to imagine they could speak to her about Daniel in that way? The fact that he was still alive and well upstairs was inconsequential when it came to the anger that rushed through her. She clasped her hands in her lap and prayed for strength, but all that came to her was a vision of strangling both of the people in front of her. She smiled and was relieved from having to respond when Molly arrived with the tea. The butler, a man whom the Wolvingtons had sent over the day before, no doubt with the intent that he would double as bodyguard, given his massive size, arrived on Molly’s heels to announce the arrival of the Duke of Grover.
“You see,” Rebecca’s aunt crooned. “I told you he’d come for you.”
Rebecca hadn’t doubted it for a second, imagining that he’d probably consider her a trophy. And then the man in question arrived, strolling into the room and smiling happily when he set eyes on Rebecca. “Lady Rebecca,” he said, “you’re looking radiant as always, even under such strained circumstances. My sincerest condolences on the passing of your husband. How tragic that he should die so young.”
“Thank you,” she said, laying her hand obediently in his outstretched one so he could bend over it and place a kiss upon her knuckles. She felt a subtle movement of air as he lingered for a brief second, and then realized to her horror that he was sniffing her. He looked up, their eyes met and she instinctively drew back, away from the greediness that lurched beneath the surface of his stare.
Grover straightened, and when offered to take a seat, he claimed the one directly next to Rebecca’s, moving the chair closer to the table so his knee touched hers whenever he leaned forward to pick up his teacup or take a biscuit. He turned to Rebecca with an edge of determination about him that made the fine hairs at the back of her neck stand on edge. “It cannot be easy for you,” he said, his voice low and smooth, “to find yourself so suddenly alone and without protection.”