A Simple Lady (8 page)

Elizabeth stifled a sigh and smiled gently. “Forgive me for not having introduced myself immediately, ma’am. My name is Elizabeth, and I am Lady Kenrick.”

“Impossible,” the woman replied immediately, tilting her head as though to view Elizabeth from a different angle. “You cannot be Lady Kenrick because you obviously are not simpleminded.”

Suddenly very curious about this stranger, Elizabeth was nonetheless aware that the storm clouds were almost upon them. “You are correct, ma’am,” she agreed quickly. “I am not simpleminded, but both of us are going to get very wet if we don’t go inside immediately. Now where can that silly Apollo be? I have no desire to climb a dripping apple tree to retrieve him a second time.”

“Is that perhaps the kitten you seek?” the lady asked, pointing toward the gravel path leading to a side door of the cottage.

Elizabeth laughed. “Yes. He is waiting for me, probably wondering why I haven’t opened the door for him. He is even less enthusiastic about getting wet than I am. Come, ma’am, will be join me now for that cup of tea?”

“I certainly will, my dear,” the lady answered, smiling as she slipped her hand into the crook of Elizabeth’s arm and allowed herself to be led into the house.

Fifteen minutes later Elizabeth was pouring her guest a cup of tea while threatening Apollo with dire consequences should he approach the cream pitcher one more time.

“Silly kitten,” Elizabeth scolded. “I am sure you’ve already had your dish of milk in the kitchen. Shall I put him out, ma’am? Does he bother you?”

“Not at all, my dear. I am very fond of cats. I have five of my own and am used to the antics of kittens. Have you given him a ball of yarn to play with?”

“No. Should I?”

“I always do. I recall how much Jeremy used to laugh at my kittens. Of course, they are too old now to be interested in frivolous games. Unfortunately, time changes us all. It has been many a day since I have heard Jeremy laugh.” The lady’s thoughts had obviously saddened her. She sat silently, holding her teacup and staring toward the drawing room window where rain poured in great sheets down the panes.

“May I freshen your tea, ma’am?” Elizabeth asked, hoping to pull the lady back from her sad memories.

“What? Oh! Forgive me, my dear. I was woolgathering, I fear. Poor Jeremy. He has been sad for so long. But no doubt you have noticed that.”

Elizabeth’s breath caught in her throat. Her guest had not introduced herself, and Elizabeth hadn’t wanted to appear rude by asking her for identification. Now, recalling Mrs. Freeman’s whispered insistence that the lady’s fine traveling coach sported a crest upon its door, Elizabeth realized that the circumstances surrounding this lady’s arrival were beginning to suggest a conclusion she had no desire to reach. Still, she had never subscribed to the precept that ignorance is bliss. Best to find out immediately if her suspicions were correct. She took a deep breath. “Forgive me, ma’am, if I appear rude, but may I assume that you are my new mother-in-law?”

The lady’s eyes widened, surprise reflected prominently in their deep blue depths. “Yes, of course, my dear. Didn’t the fact that I’m the Dowager Marchioness of Kenrick not suggest as much to you?”

Elizabeth bit her lip, suppressing the desire to point out that the lady had mentioned neither her name nor her title. She could not help wondering if her mother-in-law had always been so absentminded or if the failing resulted from advancing age. In either case, Elizabeth realized, pointing out the lady’s omission of vital information would not be kind. Instead she said, “I am very honored by this visit, my lady.”

The Dowager Lady Kenrick smiled. “Such a sweet child,” she murmured, apparently to herself. She looked then into Elizabeth’s eyes. “But I am very confused, my dear. Gerald told me that you are simpleminded.”

“Gerald?” Elizabeth frowned, trying to recall whether Gerald was one of her husband’s names. She’d heard all of them only once on the day they were married, and the vicar had run through the names so quickly, none of them had really registered with Elizabeth. Her confusion deepened. “I’m sorry to appear so obtuse, ma’am, but did you say that someone named Gerald told you that I’m simpleminded?”

“Forgive me,” the dowager said with a grimace. “I should have realized that you wouldn’t have met Gerald. He is Jeremy’s cousin and heir, a dear boy, although he and Jeremy have never gotten along. Gerald was kind enough to ride to Aston Arbor to inform me of Jeremy’s marriage. As you can imagine, I was horrified to learn that my son would marry a simpleminded girl, merely to keep Aston Arbor out of Gerald’s hands. There was no need for Jeremy to take such drastic actions. It’s not as though Gerald would have tossed me out on my ear!”

Elizabeth, torn between sighing and smiling, reached for another biscuit while mulling over her mother-in-law’s words. “Am I correct in concluding, my lady, that your son married me so your home, Aston Arbor, would not pass into his cousin’s hands?”

The dowager looked at Elizabeth with awed approval clear in her eyes. “Why, yes. You are really very clever. Why did Gerald tell me you are simple, I wonder?”

Elizabeth decided she was not brave enough to attempt an answer to that question. Instead she asked, “To what do I owe the honor of this visit, my lady?” She was surprised to see a sudden flash of anger in her guest’s eyes.

“I fail to understand why my desire to meet my new daughter-in-law should amaze everyone. I realize I have not ventured beyond Aston Arbor’s boundaries for over twenty years, but that hardly signifies. After all, I never had sufficient reason to leave my home before. But naturally, when I learned that my son, my very foolish and unhappy son, had done such a dastardly thing—to marry a simple girl for his own selfish reasons even though he thought he was doing it for me—well, I could hardly sit by and not ascertain for myself if you were being properly cared for. Could I?” Then, with an abrupt change of subject, “Perhaps you would not want me to mention this, but the kitten is in the cream pot.”

“Apollo,” Elizabeth cried, leaping up to gently grasp the purring kitten beneath his taut belly and cuddle him on her shoulder, secretly pleased that the little scamp had provided her with an excuse not to respond to her guest’s outburst. She had no wish to disillusion this kind lady by explaining that her beloved son had not only been willing to marry for selfish reasons, but that he had also been furious when he learned his wife was not simpleminded after all.

“You will think me a very poor hostess, my lady,” Elizabeth said, eager to change the subject. “If you will excuse me, I shall ask the housekeeper to prepare a chamber for you immediately.” She then hurried from the room.

By that evening, Elizabeth felt as though she had spent the day trapped in the center of a gentle but persistent whirlwind. Her mother-in-law was tenacious when seeking information. She had wormed from Elizabeth almost every detail of her life to date, along with most facts pertaining to her marriage. Only Elizabeth’s tendency to stutter remained unmentioned. Elizabeth had learned long ago that to speak of her impediment often precipitated it, and she had no desire to add stuttering to the confusion that seemed inherent in conversations with her mother-in-law.

“That ridiculous boy,” the Dowager Lady Kenrick exclaimed when she and Elizabeth had finished dinner and retired to the drawing room. “Would you be kind enough to hand me that bag, my dear? I always carry my needlework with me and, if memory serves me correctly, I have a ball of yarn buried beneath a handkerchief I am hemming. Where is Apollo?”

Apollo, who had been sleeping beside the empty hearth, was delighted to interrupt his nap to pounce on the ball of yarn the dowager marchioness tossed toward him.

“He is sometimes very silly, you know,” the dowager said. She had pulled a half-hemmed handkerchief from her bag and was examining her stitches with a critical eye.

Unsure whether the dowager referred to her son or to Apollo, Elizabeth said nothing.

“He thought he was protecting me, of course,” that lady continued, frowning and stuffing the handkerchief back into her bag. She sighed then and looked at Elizabeth. “Jeremy has always been very protective of me. You see, his father was not especially kind to me. He was not kind to anyone, as a matter of fact. But I was only seventeen when we were introduced during my first Season, and I thought him the most handsome and gallant man I had ever met. I was thrilled when he asked Papa for my hand. How could I have guessed that his declarations of undying love were directed toward my dowry rather than toward me?”

Elizabeth, hoping the question was rhetorical, breathed a silent sigh of relief when her mother-in-law continued.

“After Jeremy was born, my husband began to flaunt his affairs. I was still in love with him and was devastated that he could so blithely humiliate me in front of my friends. After Jeremy was born, I told his father that I wanted to retire to Aston Arbor with the baby. He agreed quickly. He was glad to be rid of me, you see.”

So much hurt was still evident in the dowager’s voice that Elizabeth found herself blinking back tears of sympathy. “I am very sorry, my lady,” she said softly.

“Call me Mary, please, my dear. You are, after all, my daughter now. I have always wanted a daughter, but… Never mind. At least I have one now.”

Elizabeth could not help recalling that the dowager had possessed a daughter-in-law once before, but because she had also heard that Kenrick’s first marriage was not a happy one, she quickly lowered her gaze, hoping her mother-in-law had not read her thoughts in her eyes. Her hopes were in vain.

“Ah, you are thinking, perhaps, of Jeremy’s first marriage. A sad—I might almost say a fatal—mistake. Few people know this my dear, but Paulina was
enceinte
when Jeremy married her. He was not aware of her pregnancy, of course. He married the girl, who was from a good family, because his father urged him to, and at that time, Jeremy still strove to please his father. Jeremy was young and naive, and Paulina soon had him enraptured with her. She convinced him that she had conceived on their wedding night and that the child she carried was his. He did not learn until Paulina was dying, while giving birth to a stillborn babe, that had her son lived, he would have been Jeremy’s half brother.”

Elizabeth could not suppress her gasp of horror. “My lady, surely you are mistaken!”

“Oh, no. She told Jeremy on her deathbed, begging him to send for his father so she could say goodbye to her illicit lover. I feared for Jeremy’s sanity for weeks after they buried Paulina. He retreated to Aston Arbor, the only place he knew where he could find true peace. He vowed never to marry again. I thought he never would. My poor dear! I have upset you. Shall I ring for brandy?”

Elizabeth sat, one hand covering her mouth, her eyes filled with tears. “No,” she said quietly. “I am all right.” She looked up then, anger clear in her compressed lips. “I perhaps should not say so, my lady, but your husband sounds like a veritable monster.”

The dowager smiled wanly. “He had very few good characteristics, that is true. Of course, he never intended for Jeremy to know whose baby Paulina carried. Perhaps he saw his solution to her pregnancy as ideal. He no doubt thought himself very clever, ensuring that his illegitimate baby, if a boy, would be the legitimate heir to the title.”

“That’s terrible,” Elizabeth declared.

“Of course it is, my dear. I have already explained that my husband had few admirable qualities. I do think, however, that he felt some remorse when Jeremy learned the truth and was so shattered by it. My husband tried to approach Jeremy but received the cut direct for his troubles. Jeremy would have nothing to do with him. I think that must be why my husband added that codicil to his will.”

“The codicil giving Aston Arbor to Gerald if Jeremy did not marry by the age of thirty?”

“Exactly. My husband knew Jeremy would never marry again unless forced to do so. He also knew Jeremy would never allow Aston Arbor to be taken away from me. It was my childhood home and part of my dowry. It became my refuge when I retired from the world. Jeremy, silly boy, no doubt thought having to leave Aston Arbor would destroy me. He should have known I would give up my home a thousand times over to protect him.” The dowager smiled brightly. “But now I am so glad Jeremy was unaware of my feelings and, as a result, agreed to marry you. Perhaps my husband has, for once, done something that will be of true benefit to my son. How soon can you be ready to leave for London, my dear?”

Chapter Eight

The Dowager Marchioness of Kenrick was not only absentminded, she was also single-minded, as Elizabeth was learning to her sorrow. Once her mother-in-law latched on to an idea, she clung to it as tenaciously as Apollo did to a ball of yarn.

Two days after the dowager’s unexpected arrival at Cramdon Cottage, Elizabeth found herself seated across from her mother-in-law in a traveling carriage on the way to London. The dowager had been unimpressed by Elizabeth’s objections to the journey, even when Elizabeth reminded her time and time again that Kenrick had explicitly forbidden her to set foot in his London town house.

“Nonsense,” her mother-in-law had declared, smiling complacently. “Jeremy frequently says things he does not mean when he allows his temper to get the better of him.”

“But my lady—”

“Mary. Please call me Mary.”

“Very well, Mary. But you see—”

“Of course I see, my dear. Jeremy must be delighted to think he has achieved his ends so easily. Due to your unfortunate choice of words when asking him for a carriage and horses—a reasonable request if I may say so—he felt justified in leaving you to live out your life in a secluded cottage. It is never wise, my dear, to allow men to achieve their desires without throwing a few obstacles in their path. I learned that too late, and I fear my own reticence may have encouraged Jeremy’s father to follow the path that eventually led to his solitary end. I cannot stand by and let the same thing happen to Jeremy.”

“I suppose not,” Elizabeth agreed absently. She was not at all sure what her mother-in-law meant, nor was she interested in trying to decipher Mary’s meaning. She was much too downcast at the moment. Leaving Mattie behind at Cramdon Cottage had been distressing, especially when Elizabeth longed to stay and oversee her friend’s recuperation from a badly sprained ankle. But Mattie had insisted that Mrs. Freeman was well qualified to nurse her and that it was Elizabeth’s duty to accommodate her new mother-in-law’s desires. Not wishing to add to Mattie’s burdens, Elizabeth had refrained from pointing out that her mother-in-law’s desires were in direct contradiction to her husband’s orders, leaving Elizabeth trapped neatly in the line of fire between the two.