Page 4 of Beware A Wallflower's Wrath
Annis blinked back fresh tears. “No, either he gives everything up for me of his own free will, or he gets nothing.”
“Nothing it is, then.” Aunt Sorcha rose from her chair and collected the tea tray. “Colin, say hello to yer widowed cousin. Or she will be before the babe is born. She married a handsome sea captain who will soon go down with his ship.”
Mrs. Douglas added, “Mrs. Porter will be staying above my bookstore, so it will be easy for her to work when she becomes… larger.”
Annis fell back against the worn brocade and closed her eyes. One catastrophe over. One problem solved. One heart irreparably cracked.
One child growing inside her who was already dearer than life itself.
CHAPTER 1
Late June 1819
London, England
“Lord Robert, your wife is requesting to speak to you.”
Robert closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. He looked at his son and nodded. “Anthony, we must be brave for your mother.”
The boy nodded, a dark lock of hair falling over one eye. “Yes, sir.”
“I beg your pardon, Lord Robert, but she wishes to see you alone first.”
Robert cast a worried glance at the boy, then offered an apologetic half smile. “I’ll call for you shortly, Son.”
The boy collapsed on the chair outside his mother’s bedchamber. He covered his face with his hands, and his already broad shoulders shook. Robert squeezed Anthony’s arm and entered the stifling room.
Caroline lay under a mountain of blankets, her burning cheeks a sharp contrast to her ghost-like face. She was a mere skeleton of the curvaceous, lively woman he’d married fourteen years earlier. Settling next to her, her cold hand in his, he hoped he had made her life bearable if not happy.
“Robert,” she whispered, turning her face to him. Her umber hair had streaks of gray. The physician had claimed it was due to the pain of her debilitating disease. Caroline had insisted it was punishment for the vanity she’d shown as a young girl.
“I’m here,” he answered quietly.
“My rock,” she said and smiled wanly. “Where would I have been without you?”
He shook his head, emotion threatening his resolve. Theirs had not been a love match, but true affection had grown between them. Consumption would soon take one of his staunchest allies and one of his closest friends in this world.
“I want to thank you,” she began, then coughed.
Robert wiped her mouth with a wet cloth and helped her sip some cool water. “No, dear. Save your strength.”
She clasped his hand as he set down the glass. Her grip was surprisingly strong, and he realized whatever she wanted to say was urgent. He nodded for her to continue.
“We were both unwilling in this union. We both”—she drew in a ragged breath—“loved another.”
“It’s in the past, Caroline. We’ve had a fine life.” He smoothed back strands of her hair, damp from sweat. The dark, lustrous eyes held his.
“I want you to go to Scotland. Find out”—more coughing racked her thin body—“what happened to her. You may still have a chance to find love.”
He blinked. His wife was dying, and she wanted him to abandon their son and run off to Scotland? He shook his head. “Caroline, I can’t leave Anthony.”
“After the mourning period. Anthony is at Westminster most of the day, and the staff are used to caring for him. Please, do this for me.” Her nails dug into his skin. “If she has married and is happy, then open your heart to another.”
His eyes burned at her request, but he nodded. This woman was so dear to him, regardless of how they’d been thrown together. “I wish you could have had the same chance.”
“But I did. I had Anthony to remind me how wonderful romance and passion can be. I had you to show me every day how selfless and enduring love is with the right man.” She closed her eyes and took several shallow breaths. “You were the right man for me, Robert. Anthony’s father was a rake and a scoundrel. It is you who has shaped my son into the man he will become.”
“I’m not ready…” He fought for control, but the tears were winning the battle to remain strong. “I’m not ready for you to go. We both still need you.”
