Although, according to gossip, he had had several mistresses, his passion was clearly for finance, not for women. Claudia, who had always felt him to be a cold man, was convinced that his sorrow at his cousin’s death was all surface. She was especially suspicious of his relief that she had been left well off.
“For no one could have been a more devoted wife, Claudia. You deserve to be rewarded,” he told her after the will was read.
Claudia, who was still in shock from her loss, hardly took his words in, but later, when she reread the settlements and recalled Mark’s comments, she gave a disbelieving laugh. The estate was entailed, and so Mark inherited both the title and Fairhaven as well as a continued interest in the business, which in itself was no small thing. But Justin’s fortune had been enormous, and Claudia had inherited it all, and after her, any heirs of her body. Claudia had shed tears at this evidence of her husband’s loving hope that she might one day marry again. She had no intention of doing so. But Mark must have been furious, not relieved, to see such a proviso.
Two years after her husband’s death, however, Claudia found herself coming back to life. She was beginning to find her time with her parents boring. Her mother was very much in charge of her own household and Claudia had little or nothing to do with herself. At first that had been a relief, but then it began to drive her to distraction. She could, of course, have gone back to Fairhaven. Mark had more than once invited her, but it was not a welcome prospect, nor did it seem quite within the bounds of propriety. She was his second cousin by marriage, but she was also his contemporary.
She finally decided to purchase a townhouse and move to London for the fall and spring Seasons. Her parents protested, but she was adamant, and so, at thirty-four, she was finally to have a “come-out.” Not that she and Justin hadn’t been to London often, and not, she told herself, that she was interested in a second marriage, but this would be the first time she would be taking part in the activities as an unattached, eligible woman. Not a young woman, it was true. But a very rich one.
Lady Fairhaven was an immediate success. She had always been very well liked for herself and respected for her obvious devotion to her older husband. But she had always stood in his shadow. She was now her own woman, self-assured and still very attractive.
The petite blonde beauty that had attracted the earl had changed little, except to mature and ripen. There were few lines in her face and she could have worn the dresses she had at seventeen, so little had her figure changed.
“Of course, why should she have wrinkles?” complained one society matron who was of an age with Claudia. “Justin Halesworth positively doted on her. She was cosseted all their married life.”
“And never a child to thicken her waistline,” observed another.
“But to give her credit, she is not fast, like Lady Montague, nor high in the instep, although she could be with all that money,” said their companion.
The three ladies agreed that, as rich widows went, Lady Fairhaven was the most likable they had met.
The gentlemen were no less taken with her. A few, like Colonel Blunt and the Viscount Margate, were clearly after her money. And then there was young Littlefield, just down from Oxford, who was clearly in the throes of calf love. But at the beginning of the Season, her most frequent partner was her cousin-in-law, Mark Halesworth.
At first, Claudia was not at all surprised he sought her out. It was, after all, the polite and kindly thing to do. But after the first two weeks or so, Claudia began to notice that Mark was holding her just a little closer than was necessary for the waltz. And bending over her far more solicitously than she was comfortable with as he handed her a supper plate or a glass of punch. His warmth seemed real, but she still didn’t trust him. Nor was she at all attracted to him. Thank God, he resembled his mother more than Justin’s side of the family, but she had never liked his pale complexion or his thin-lipped, angular face. She wondered what was on his mind, and thought she knew. What could be better, from Mark’s point of view, than that he unite both title and fortune by marrying his cousin’s widow? Well, it was unfortunate for Mark that he was the last person in the world she would choose as a second husband. Not that she wanted one, but if she did, it would be someone who had a wide and generous mouth, like Anthony Varden.
* * * *
She had met Tony Varden several weeks into the Season and felt an immediate sympathy for him. He too had lost someone he loved: first his father and then his older brother. She arranged an introduction to him with no great difficulty or comment, and accepted his polite offer to take her in to supper. While they sat together, she offered her condolences. Her words, while conventional, were so clearly heartfelt that he was quite touched. It was the first time that anyone had offered him sympathy for himself alone. All the others, including Joanna, had been suffering their own loss and wanting comfort as well as giving it. This woman seemed to see right through to his heart. To know that he had suffered, was suffering. He stammered out a thank-you, his usual insouciance deserting him.
The next time, he sought her out. And this time really looked at her. True, she was a few years older than he, but she most certainly didn’t look it. In fact, she was one of the most attractive women in the room.
At first, he only set out to be charming to her to keep his mind off his worries. But as the Season wore on, he liked her more and more. She seemed to understand him. And she was refreshingly unsophisticated for a widow. He was sure that she had never been unfaithful to Lord Fairhaven.
There were a few fellows hanging around her, but he easily dismissed them as rivals. As he dismissed Mark Halesworth. Halesworth was being very solicitous, to be sure, but he was a cold fish. Tony had known him at school, where he’d been a few years Mark’s junior. Mark had had a reputation for real cruelty to younger boys. Tony had been lucky enough to keep out of his way, but he had heard enough stories to make him form an instant dislike.
He couldn’t imagine Lady Fairhaven could really like the fellow, so he managed to rescue her from his company as often as he could within the bounds of polite behavior. And by the end of the first half of the Season, gossips were speculating about Lord Ashford and Lady Fairhaven.
* * * *
One afternoon in early May, Mark was announced to his cousin. A slight frown creased her brow when her butler handed her Mark’s card, but she put on a polite smile and had him shown in.
“Good afternoon, Claudia. You are looking quite lovely today.”
“Thank you, Mark.” Years ago she had stopped him from calling her “Cousin Claudia,” which had sounded ridiculous. It still would, of course, but she would have welcomed the distance it would have suggested. The more attention Mark paid her, the more uncomfortable she felt with him.
“I am not come on a social visit, Claudia.”
“Oh?”
“No. I am here as a member of your family to express the concern I have about your welfare.”
Claudia lifted her teacup and took a measured swallow, while gesturing to her butler to serve her cousin.
“And what concern is that, Mark?” she asked evenly. Inside she was seething. Express his concern, indeed! How dare he presume to tell her what to do? For she knew that was what he was about. Mark was too cold to feel anything, much less concern for her welfare.
“I have noticed, as indeed have others, that you are spending more time with Tony Varden than with any other gentlemen. I am worried about you. My cousin kept you very protected, you know, and you are relatively inexperienced in the ways of the world. Ashford is good-looking and charming, it is true, so I am aware of his appeal. Especially for a woman whose first husband was so much older than she. But his interest in you can be nothing but financial. I am sorry to be so blunt, Claudia. But you are a very wealthy woman, and as such, prey to all kinds of fortune hunters.”
“You mean like Blunt and Margate?”
“Why, yes, they are certainly two of the worst.”
“And you think that I am too old and wrinkled to appeal to Lord Ashford for any other reason than my money?”
Mark set his cup down and took one of Claudia’s hands in his. “Of course not. You are one of the most attractive women in London.”
Claudia slipped her hand out of his. “But I am older than he.”
“You are. And more to the point, he has recently inherited an impoverished title and estate.”
“I know that, Mark.”
“But do you also know that his strategy for bringing the estate back is to frequent the gaming hells? He is an inveterate gambler, Claudia, and I have it on good authority that he is badly dipped.”
Claudia kept her face expressionless. She had known, of course, about Tony’s inheritance. And he had confessed to her himself his unsuitability for the responsibilities he carried. He had compared himself to his brother more than once, and she had responded with the instant sympathy he drew from her and reassured him.
She had heard some whispering about his gambling, but had dismissed it as malicious gossip. She had never seen him sit down at a card table on any occasion they were together. It was true that he often looked tired, but she had put that down to his worries about his family. It was also true that he did not usually attend more than one or two social functions in an evening, nor stay until the early morning hours. She had always assumed that he was just being conscientious about his attempts to set his affairs in order.
“And what ‘good authority’ is that, Mark? I have heard some of the gossip myself, but have seen nothing in Lord Ashford to indicate such an obsession.”
“I heard it from one of the blacklegs himself, one Boniface, who works at 75 St. James Street. Tony is there almost every night, winning and losing at
Rouge et Noir
…mostly losing. I do not want you to be hurt, Claudia. I…care about you very much, you know.”
“And I you,” Claudia responded very matter-of-factly. “I am glad to have a relative of Justin’s to advise me.”
“I would like to be able to do more than just advise you, Claudia.” Mark’s expression changed. Claudia supposed that the thin-lipped smile and the expectant lift of his eyebrows was to suggest warmer feeling for her. But there was no warmth in his eyes. She stood up and walked to the window, avoiding the hand stretched out to…well, she didn’t know what his hand was going to do. Perhaps only pat her hand again. Her back was to him for a moment, and so she couldn’t see his expression change. His lips were pressed together and every bit of the coldness she suspected was present in his eyes. But his face softened as she turned.
“Mark, I very much appreciate your solicitousness. I will certainly think hard about what you have told me. I would even make some discreet inquiries of my own, were I contemplating a second marriage. But I am not. Perhaps in a few years I will feel differently, but right now, Justin’s memory is too tender for me to consider anyone in his place.”
“Of course, Claudia. Forgive me if I have unintentionally caused you any embarrassment.”
“Not at all, Mark.” Claudia reached out and took his offered hand and squeezed it gratefully. “I know exactly where your concern was coming from.”
A minute after he was gone, Claudia looked up at the portrait of her late husband that hung over the fireplace.
“I never had the courage to say this before, Justin, but your cousin is a self-serving, cold-hearted…
toad.
And if you
did
set up your will to encourage an understanding between us, then that is the only stupid thing I have ever known you to do. Concerned for me, indeed! The only thing Mark Halesworth is concerned about is money. Don’t look at me like that, Justin. I know that as a wealthy widow I am at risk. But there is something about Lord Ashford that draws me to him. And I have been very lonely without you, my dear.”
Mark left the house feeling somewhat reassured. He knew that Claudia had loved his cousin, and although it had been two years since Justin’s death, it was possible that she felt no desire to remarry. That did not mean she never would. But if she did, he meant to see that she married him.
When he was very young, Mark was not fully aware of how close he was to the earldom. His mother did not speak of it much, although she always carefully checked Justin’s letters for any references to eligible European women, and when she found none, would fold them up with a sigh of relief. But as Mark got older and Justin remained single, his mother encouraged him to think of himself as heir to everything: title, estate, and business. And Mark did. In school, he acted as though he were already the earl, and only socialized with older sons. He took his position so for granted that when news of the marriage reached him at school he lost not a moment’s sleep over it. But when he returned home that summer, his mother’s reaction began to wake him up to the reality: Lord Fairhaven had married a much younger woman and would likely produce an heir.
When he made his courtesy visit, he began to take his mother’s complaining seriously. He would watch his doting cousin with his new bride, and the resentment planted by his mother grew.
Summer after summer went by, with Mark watching for signs that Lady Fairhaven might be increasing. After seven years and no heir, Mark began to relax. And when, a few years after that, Justin tacitly acknowledged him, introducing him to estate matters, Mark again began to take for granted that he would get what was due him when the earl died. And he deserved it, damn it, after all these years of waiting and insecurity.
His cold hostility toward Claudia, which he had kept very well hidden, began to diminish. After all, she kept his cousin happy. She would probably inherit a tidy amount, go off to London, and marry again.
No one was more surprised than Mark when the will was read, and no one hid it better. He offered both his sympathy and congratulations and acted as though he had only expected the title and estate. After all, he had made quite a bit of money in his position as manager already since, like the late earl, he was a shrewd investor.