The Vicar's Widow

“Absolutely,” he said, and Emily imagined kicking the good doctor in the arse.

Montgomery nodded, stepped forward, and lifted Emily’s limp hand to his lips. “Thank you for the honor of your dance,” he said. “And promise me that you will be more careful of vigorous dancing in the future.”

“It wasn’t the dance,” she said again. “I felt perfectly fine. More than fine, really.”

He chuckled as he stepped aside so that Dr. Hamblen might put his hand to her forehead.

A few moments later, when Tabitha returned with the punch, most of the onlookers had wandered off, including Dr. Hamblen, who had peered at her closely and proclaimed her quite recovered. Only two debutantes remained behind, their backs to her, but whispering to one another as they stole glimpses of Emily over their shoulder.

Tabitha sat on the edge of a chair beside Emily and handed her the punch. “How do you feel?” she asked with a bit of sarcasm in her voice that Emily did not care for.

“I am improved, but not fully recovered.” She sipped the punch.

“I’ll stay until you are,” Tabitha said with a sigh, and leaned back in her seat, to have had a look around the room. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Look who’s come, will you? It’s that scoundrel, Lord Connery!”

Emily looked to where Tabitha indicated. “The scoundrel?”

“Have you not heard the rumors about him?” Tabitha asked, lighting up. “Do you recall that we were speaking of the vicar’s widow?” she asked excitedly.

“Yes.”

“Well.” Tabitha paused, glanced around them to make sure no one was too close. “I attended a tea at Lady Southbridge’s just two days past and overheard her remark to Mrs. Bledsoe that Widow Becket would do well to have a care for her reputation, for more than one trustworthy person had seen her traipsing carelessly about Mayfair, unescorted, in the company of Lord Connery!”

“The devil you say!” Emily whispered harshly.

“It’s quite true!” Tabitha insisted. “Lady Southbridge said that they had been seen together in some scandalously disreputable locations and that honestly, it was not the first time since her husband’s tragic death Widow Becket had demonstrated a lack of care in either her whereabouts or the company which she keeps!”

Ah, for the love of God! Emily closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall. Lady Southbridge’s atrocious lack of hearing was to blame for this mess. Not Lord Connery! Lord Montgomery! And now what was she to do?

“I really had never thought of her at all until you mentioned it,” Tabitha said.

“Widow Becket is quite free with her affections, you may be sure,” Emily muttered irritably. “Lord Connery, Lord Anyname, it matters not to her!”

“No!” Tabitha gasped loudly.

“Yes!” Emily said. “I’ve even heard it rumored that she’s been in the company of Lord Dillingham.”

That was met with cold silence from Tabitha.

“I’ve a horrid ache in my head,” Emily moaned, as she tried to make sense of her thoughts.

“Oh come now, you needn’t pretend with me,” Tabitha chastised her and took the cup from her hand. “I know what you’re about.”

At that moment, another, better idea occurred to Emily, and she opened her eyes. “What I’m about?”

Tabitha rolled her eyes and slumped back in her chair. “That bit of fainting—it was for his lordship’s benefit. Admit it.”

Emily gave her a wry smile. “You are ignorant at times, Tabitha,” she said with much superiority. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard the rumors about Montgomery, then, have you?”

“No. I suppose even he’s been seen with Widow Becket?”

“Not about Widow Becket!” Emily said crossly. “About for whom he intends to offer!”

Tabitha sat up now and scooted to the edge of her seat. “No! Who is it, then? Please don’t say that wretched Miss Smythe. She thinks herself so superior to us all!”

Emily chuckled low, took the cup of punch from Tabitha’s hand, drank her fill, set it aside, and clasped her hands in her lap.

“Emily! Don’t be coy!” Tabitha cried. “Who?”

“Really, can’t you see it with your very own eyes?” she asked, laughing at Tabitha’s eagerness. “Who did Lord Montgomery seek out and accompany on a long ride about Hyde Park just yesterday? And who is the first person he danced with upon arriving at this ball? And might you guess who he inquired as to her favorite flower, then declared it his favorite flower, too, and furthermore, how early spring, what with all the dancing, and the flowers, and the rides about the park, is his favorite time of year?”

Tabitha’s eyes widened.

“That’s right,” Emily said, nodding. “He’s a particular interest in me,” she said, and watched Tabitha’s eyes widen with surprise. And all right, then, a bit of shock, too.





Chapter Seven