the last two people she ever wanted to see again. And how dare they invite themselves like this! It was gauche, but she should have learned to expect that from them by now. “Why do you think they are coming here?”
“To see if you are pregnant yet, my dear.”
“ What? ” Emily laughed, a bit taken aback by Edgar’s bluntness. “You’re right, of course. They have always worried that you would procreate and cheat Lord Stockdale out of his inheritance. I overheard them talking about it more than once.” Then a thought occurred to her and she sobered. “Edgar, that is not the real reason you want a son, is it?”
“Oh my darling, no, no, definitely not. As much as I dislike the thought of Raymond succeeding me as the tenth Earl of Callander, if that is the way it turns out, so be it. I will make sure you are well provided for in a way that he can’t change.” He leaned toward her and took her hand. “I want a son for you. I saw you with Raymond’s children, you will be such a wonderful mother. I want to see you with a baby at your breast.
“And I want to dandle a baby on my knee while I’m still capable of moving it.”
* * * * *
The next morning the household went into a frenzy of activity. Linens were washed and hung out to dry, curtains aired, dust covers removed and the furniture underneath polished until it gleamed. Against Mrs. Lamond’s protests, Emily even helped make up the beds. She was determined that her former employers would have to fabricate any fault they may find with her management of the house and staff.
On Friday, Emily and the housekeeper and Fen had just finished hanging the curtains in the guest bedrooms when the carriage rolled to a stop at the front steps. Emily hurried to join Edgar in the drawing room and waited for Weston to announce their uninvited guests.
Lord and Lady Stockdale sauntered into the room as if they already owned the place. Emily watched Caroline Cavendish look around, no doubt taking inventory—what to keep, what to discard to make space for her own objets d’art —that is, if there were any she hadn’t sold or pawned yet.
“Dear Uncle, how are you feeling?” Raymond approached Edgar and took his hand, as one would do with an elderly grandparent who had one foot in the grave. He reinforced this perception with his next words. “You don’t look at all well. Has the physician been to see you of late?”
Edgar gave a rather tolerant smile. “On the contrary, Raymond, I have not felt this well in a long time.”
Raymond looked over at Emily. “Then marriage must agree with you.” He did not smile and Emily saw a muscle in his jaw twitch.
“Aren’t you going to congratulate us?” Edgar asked.
“Of course. How very rude of me,” Raymond said, never taking his eyes off Emily. “My sincerest congratulations on your nuptials, Uncle. And to you, Emily.”
“That’s Lady Callander, nephew,” Edgar reminded him.
Raymond inhaled deeply and his nostrils flared. He made a slight bow and said, begrudgingly, “My apologies, my lady.”
It occurred to Emily that Caroline had not said a word since entering the room. She turned and looked at her former mistress only to find that one glaring at her. If looks could kill, Emily thought, Edgar would be a widower now.
“Caroline? Aren’t you going to congratulate the happy couple?” Raymond prompted. His snide tone of voice was not lost on Emily.
She wondered how long they planned to stay…and how she would be able to hold her tongue for the duration.
Dinner that evening was the longest two hours Emily had ever endured. Raymond continued to stare at her. And now that she had found her tongue, Caroline chattered almost nonstop.
“…and it is costing us a small fortune to keep George at Haddington and Sylvia at Mrs. Rosemont’s Academy, as you know, Uncle. I just don’t know what we’re going to do. I
“To see if you are pregnant yet, my dear.”
“ What? ” Emily laughed, a bit taken aback by Edgar’s bluntness. “You’re right, of course. They have always worried that you would procreate and cheat Lord Stockdale out of his inheritance. I overheard them talking about it more than once.” Then a thought occurred to her and she sobered. “Edgar, that is not the real reason you want a son, is it?”
“Oh my darling, no, no, definitely not. As much as I dislike the thought of Raymond succeeding me as the tenth Earl of Callander, if that is the way it turns out, so be it. I will make sure you are well provided for in a way that he can’t change.” He leaned toward her and took her hand. “I want a son for you. I saw you with Raymond’s children, you will be such a wonderful mother. I want to see you with a baby at your breast.
“And I want to dandle a baby on my knee while I’m still capable of moving it.”
* * * * *
The next morning the household went into a frenzy of activity. Linens were washed and hung out to dry, curtains aired, dust covers removed and the furniture underneath polished until it gleamed. Against Mrs. Lamond’s protests, Emily even helped make up the beds. She was determined that her former employers would have to fabricate any fault they may find with her management of the house and staff.
On Friday, Emily and the housekeeper and Fen had just finished hanging the curtains in the guest bedrooms when the carriage rolled to a stop at the front steps. Emily hurried to join Edgar in the drawing room and waited for Weston to announce their uninvited guests.
Lord and Lady Stockdale sauntered into the room as if they already owned the place. Emily watched Caroline Cavendish look around, no doubt taking inventory—what to keep, what to discard to make space for her own objets d’art —that is, if there were any she hadn’t sold or pawned yet.
“Dear Uncle, how are you feeling?” Raymond approached Edgar and took his hand, as one would do with an elderly grandparent who had one foot in the grave. He reinforced this perception with his next words. “You don’t look at all well. Has the physician been to see you of late?”
Edgar gave a rather tolerant smile. “On the contrary, Raymond, I have not felt this well in a long time.”
Raymond looked over at Emily. “Then marriage must agree with you.” He did not smile and Emily saw a muscle in his jaw twitch.
“Aren’t you going to congratulate us?” Edgar asked.
“Of course. How very rude of me,” Raymond said, never taking his eyes off Emily. “My sincerest congratulations on your nuptials, Uncle. And to you, Emily.”
“That’s Lady Callander, nephew,” Edgar reminded him.
Raymond inhaled deeply and his nostrils flared. He made a slight bow and said, begrudgingly, “My apologies, my lady.”
It occurred to Emily that Caroline had not said a word since entering the room. She turned and looked at her former mistress only to find that one glaring at her. If looks could kill, Emily thought, Edgar would be a widower now.
“Caroline? Aren’t you going to congratulate the happy couple?” Raymond prompted. His snide tone of voice was not lost on Emily.
She wondered how long they planned to stay…and how she would be able to hold her tongue for the duration.
Dinner that evening was the longest two hours Emily had ever endured. Raymond continued to stare at her. And now that she had found her tongue, Caroline chattered almost nonstop.
“…and it is costing us a small fortune to keep George at Haddington and Sylvia at Mrs. Rosemont’s Academy, as you know, Uncle. I just don’t know what we’re going to do. I
Similar Books
