The Fallen Woman (A Regency Romance) (11 page)

He needed to help them.

“So,” Andrew spoke up, “I rode my phaeton all the way from London. It’s meant for shorter distances, but I don’t care. I’ve always been a rebel.”

No one said anything. Tristan was as twitchy as ever, and Leona’s shoulders slumped. Andrew frowned at their response, or lack thereof. The silence was maddening, but it gave Andrew a moment to evaluate the situation. He sensed the newlyweds' desire get along with one another, but they didn’t know how to begin. He also sensed a mutual respect between Leona and Tristan, something that could possibly blossom into something deeper, if given the chance. Andrew took it upon himself to light a fire under their feet.

“Soooo…” he went on, “I was wondering if we could all take a ride. My phaeton might not be fit for a prince, but it’s a swell vehicle. And the scenery around Randall Hall is lovely.”

Tristan hitched a shoulder and said, “You want to go for a ride? Well… alright.” He was careful not to show much enthusiasm, as he didn’t want to look too eager. The fact of the matter was, he’d been starving to spend more time with Leona. He wanted to get to know her, but he didn’t think she wanted to be known by him—not after their quarrel.

“My lady?” Andrew spoke again, turning his attention to his friend’s bride.

“I’d be delighted. But… I’m wondering if I can take Mary with me.”
“Mary?”

Tristan answered for her. “Leona’s maid.”

“I know there would be no issue of propriety if I am with my husband. Nevertheless, I would like to have her with me. There’s something comforting about having an even number of men and women.”
“That’s true,” Andrew agreed, though for very different reasons. He wasn’t the sort of man to object to the presence of another female. If the maid was pretty, he might end up enjoying his stay at Randall Hall more than he thought he would. When it came to sharing his bed, Andrew didn’t discriminate based on class. Any pretty face was welcome.

Twenty minutes later, when Andrew was helping the maid into the seat beside him, his hopes were dashed. By no means did Mary the maid have a pretty face. She wasn’t even what he’d call passable. She had the tiniest mouth, pencil-thin eyebrows, sleepy eyes, a cleft on her chin, freckles, and wiry hair that seemed to explode, in rigid wisps, from her tight bun.

He would have a lonely bed after all. Sighing, Andrew flicked the reins, urging his horses to a steady pace.

Tristan and Leona sat behind Andrew and Mary, as silent as ever. It was Andrew who had to break the ice yet again.

“Look at Randall Hall as we ride away. It really is an impressive place, don’t you think?”
Tristan chuckled. “You don’t expect a response out of me, I hope? I hardly think I can praise my own estate.”

“Is this your first time visiting Randall Hall, Mr. Lamb?” Leona asked.

“Goodness, no. I’ve known Tristan since I was a baby. My family’s estate isn’t too far from here… well… there’s nothing close to Randall Hall, but Newberry Park is one of the closest. My father is a viscount as well. Alas, I had the misfortune of being a third son.” He looked over at Mary and sighed. “I could have lived with being a first son, or even a second son. Believe me when I say… there is nothing more depressing than being the third son of a viscount.”

Mary’s lips tightened, and her miniscule mouth almost disappeared. When he saw the bizarre expression on her face, it was all he could do not to laugh. Without a mouth, she almost looked nonhuman. Andrew decided not to look at her again, for fear that he would laugh at her. He didn't want to hurt the maid's feelings. Andrew only liked pretty girls, but he wouldn’t intentionally insult someone who wasn’t quite so blessed.

Poor Mary was the definition of plain. Or worse.

Andrew looked over his shoulder at the silent couple behind him. “Believe it or not, I looked up to Tristan. I admired him more than I admired my own brothers.”

“That isn’t saying much,” Tristan added with a chuckle. “You hate your brothers.”

“Don’t interrupt my story,” Andrew playfully chided him. “Now… where was I?”

“You were telling her how I was your childhood hero, I believe.”

“Oh, come on… isn’t that a bit over the top?”

For the first time in so many days, Leona laughed. She wished she could banter with her husband the way Andrew did. To be able to talk to him so casually—that’s what she wanted more than anything. It would certainly make her days at Randall Hall a lot more pleasant.

“I’m
sure
Lady Randall won’t believe her ears when she hears
this
,” Andrew continued. “I enjoyed Tristan’s company because he was the most adventurous, rambunctious child you could ever imagine.”

Leona’s eyes, wide with shock, swiveled on her husband. “Really?”

“I know it’s hard to believe… seeing what an idle spoilsport he’s become. We used to climb trees and fight duels.”

“Duels?” Leona gasped.

“Yes, with sticks,” Andrew explained. “Being a few years older than me, he would always win. He’s always been taller than me.”

“As if size has anything to do with it!” Tristan added with a snicker.

“It does!”

“It doesn’t,” Tristan held his ground, “You were just awful.”

Leona smiled as she listened to their repartee. Andrew’s arrival was turning out to be a blessing. If he hadn’t come, she would still be in her bedroom, hiding from Lord Randall and wallowing in self-pity. Leona was realizing how childish she’d been. “So… how old
is
my husband?” she asked, hoping her question wouldn’t affect the tone of the conversation.

“You mean, he hasn’t told you?” Andrew asked, punctuating his question with a gasp. “By God, he’s
ancient
! If you get close enough to his joints, you can hear his old bones squeaking when he moves.”

Tristan dealt a playful slap to the back of his friend’s head. “You’re one to talk! In a few months, you’ll be thirty yourself!”

“Yes, but not four and thirty!” Andrew said, answering Leona’s question.

Four and thirty?
For some reason, she thought her husband was older than that.

“And you, my lady? What might your age be?”

Like her husband, Leona was tempted to slap Andrew’s head. “You fiend! You shouldn’t expect a lady to own up to her age!”

To which Andrew countered, “When the lady is as young as you undoubtedly are, I see nothing wrong with asking such a question.”

Tristan looked over at his wife. He, too, was waiting to hear the answer to Andrew’s question.

“Two and twenty,” Leona replied. “Am I older than you thought I was?”

“No. You’re still very young,” Andrew insisted. “You’re the youngest one here… err…” In the corner of his eye, he saw the maid shifting in her seat. “That is… perhaps… Mary, are you younger than that?”

Mary’s somnolent eyes sprung to life, swelling to three times their natural size. She hadn’t expected to be included in the conversation. “Goodness, no!” she laughed. “I’m much older than that. That must be obvious when you look at me.”

“Mary is thirty too,” said Leona.

“Thirty-two?”

“No, I mean… thirty
as well
,” Leona corrected herself.

“Well, I’m not quite thirty yet,” Andrew emphasized. He gave the reins a tug, pulling the horses to a stop. They’d circled Randall Hall a few times; now they were back on the front lawn.

“And I’m not quite dead yet,” Tristan said with a chuckle, hopping from the phaeton like a man full of youth and vigor. He extended a hand toward his wife, offering to help her down. “
Yet
being the operative word. After today, I’m sure you wish you had married Andrew instead of me.”

Leona took his hand, though she didn’t appreciate his comment. “I wish you wouldn’t speak so carelessly about marriage and death,” she said, tugging her hand away from him as soon as she was on the ground.

Tristan laughed, still hoping to make light of the situation. “Well… it’s true, isn’t it? It’s not just an issue of health. I don’t have a modicum of Andrew’s charm or good looks. Any woman would think he's a much better catch than me.”

“I have no idea why you would think such a thing. Come on, Mary. Let’s go.” She looked over at Andrew and nodded politely. “Good afternoon, Mr. Lamb. I’m sure I’ll see you again.”

“Definitely, my lady…” Andrew answered, bowing to her as she fled. When she was gone, a suppressed chuckle flew out of his mouth. “
Not dead yet? Rather marry Andrew?
I know
you’ve never been good with women, but
that
was a colossally stupid thing to say!”

“I know, I know…” Tristan was pouting and scowling, which made him look like he was trying to imitate a gorilla. “She’s angry with me, isn’t she? I’m not cut out for this wife business, am I? Why did I even bother?”

“Well, I can think of one benefit of having a wife, and I’m sure you know what I’m talking about. It’s been eight years since you--”

Tristan held a finger in front of Andrew’s face. “I know what you’re going to say. Do not complete that thought, Andrew. Our wedding night was a disaster, if you really must know.”
“Oh!” Andrew stuffed his hands into the pockets of his greatcoat. He didn’t know what else to say. “Oh, dear… you mean… you didn’t…?”

Tristan shook his head.

“Well, do you think… you
will
?”

Tristan shrugged.

“Well, at least we can celebrate celibacy together, my friend,” Andrew said with a chuckle. “Because there isn’t a woman around here to tempt me. You really need to employ a pretty maid, Randall.”

“By not hiring any pretty maids, I’m doing them a favor.” Tristan gave his friend a dubious glance. “I wouldn't want to subject them to Andrew Lamb!”

Chapter Fourteen

“Andrew Lamb!” It was Mary who uttered his name, breathily and dreamily. “If heaven split open and spat out an angel, it would look like Mr. Lamb. Have you ever seen such a handsome man?”

Leona, who’d been fighting off the doldrums since their afternoon outing, lifted her head. “Who is handsome?”

Mary’s hands were busily tidying her mistress’s hair, which had become disheveled by the wind. “Andrew Lamb, my lady! I think he might be the handsomest man that ever lived. I know I don’t have any right to notice such a thing, but… it’s true, isn’t it? Isn’t he handsome?”

“Well… I suppose so,” Leona said with a sigh. When she tried to picture Andrew’s face, no image came to mind. She didn’t know why she failed to notice Andrew’s good looks, as she was usually the first person to recognize a handsome face. “That is… I, um… I didn’t really notice. Now that I’m married, I must be blind to that sort of thing.”

“You didn’t notice?” Mary gasped. “Married or not, young or old, maid or lady… I can’t imagine any woman wouldn’t feel the air sucked out of her lungs at the sight of that man’s face. He makes me wish I was a lady, so I could be courted by him. But… I suppose I’d have to be young, wouldn’t I? A young lady? And I’d have to be pretty, of course… to catch the attention of a man like that.”

“But, Mary!” Leona protested, “You
are
pretty!”

“You don’t have to be so kind, my lady. I already know I’m plain.” She finished pinning Leona’s hair and sat beside her on the bed. “Besides, it isn’t as if I’m seriously considering Mr. Lamb for a beau. I just think he’s handsome. It doesn’t hurt to look, does it?”

“No, it certainly does not,” Leona agreed with a chuckle. “Although... sometimes… the act of
looking
can get you in a great deal of trouble. I wish I never set eyes on Lord Wintergreen.”

Mary patted her mistress on the shoulder. The maid was the only person in the world who knew all of Leona’s secrets, including the identity of her unborn child’s father. Mary was, at the moment, Leona’s only friend. She needed to confide in someone, and she was happy to be on the receiving end of some comfort.

“My life’s so different now.” As she spoke, Leona’s eyes started to fill with tears. “And I’ll never have my old life back, no matter how hard I wish for it. Sometimes… I wake up in the middle of the night, hoping I’d stumbled on a different reality in my sleep. I close my eyes so tightly, willing myself to wake up in a reality where my mother’s still alive, and I’m going to balls in London and having tea with Silly. In this other reality, I’ve never heard Lord Wintergreen’s name… or Lord Randall’s. But no matter how hard I wish for it, there’s no reality like that out there.
This
is my reality, and this is where I have to stay. I’ve married a stranger, and I’m going to bear the child of a man I’ll never see again.”

“Wouldn’t it be a blessing if you never saw him again?”

“I hope he rots,” Leona answered with a sneer.

Mary sat in silence. She didn’t know how to begin to comfort someone who seemed so miserable.

“I’ve turned into a liar, too. I have no right to judge Lord Randall for the lie he tried to keep from me, when my lie is ten times worse.”

“Maybe this will turn out for the best?” Mary offered hopefully. “Marrying Lord Randall could be the best thing that ever happened to you, if you give it a chance.”

“Oh, but… he dislikes me so much already! I’m not going to get anywhere with him if I can’t control my temper. I think I’ve already made myself intolerable… I know I shouldn’t storm off like I do. But
he
shouldn’t have said that about Mr. Lamb! Why would he think I’d rather marry him?”