The Wicked Widow and the Jinxed Jilter

Part 27

On Saturday, the day that Sophie had planned to leave originally, Henry returned. He did not waste much time at home, save for taking a bath, and came to the parsonage forthwith. He found the company drinking tea. "I have a licence. Shall we go off directly?" He spoke to the entire party, but his eyes were on Sophie.

"Perhaps you would like some tea first?" Louisa offered. She was amused by his haste and by Sophie's being frozen to her chair so much that she could not even stand up.

"Not really." He did not even sit down. Why should he, when his future wife was looking at him eagerly? They should be off to the church and get the business over with. Why postpone that for a cup of tea? He could have some tea afterwards. "I am not thirsty."

"Will you not sit down, Henry? May we finish at least?" Nothing was going to happen to anyone if the marriage did not take place within the next fifteen minutes. There was no evil other contender who would come to snatch Sophie away if Henry did not act soon.

He obeyed reluctantly when he realised it was more polite if he allowed them to drink their tea first. "But can we go as soon as possible?" He wanted to show her that what she had written was indeed the truth. She would like being married to him.

Sophie, who could finally move, left her chair and adjusted his neck cloth. She had missed him, but her desire to sit next to him was wicked and ought to be suppressed, whatever he had said about impropriety. There were other people present who might not share that opinion, especially since he was sitting in a chair and not on a sofa. She still cared what they thought of it, even if Henry said he did not. She suspected that perhaps even he did too, whatever he said. "Such a hurry. You must have dressed very quickly too."

Henry closed his eyes and leant back, enjoying the attention. "You have my permission to make me more presentable."

"I thought Sophie liked you somewhat less presentable," Louisa murmured. She felt helpless. It was all taking place without her control. She did not know whether she was supposed to say anything at all.

Frederick finished his tea and stood up. "Given the situation I had better hurry to the church to prepare myself. Louisa will keep an eye on you two. Will you not?" He doubted that the smiling couple even heard him. They were too busy gazing into each other's eyes adoringly, as if they had never seen such a wonderful person before. Thank goodness they would grow out of that. They would not be invited over on Sundays until they could converse with others normally, at any rate.

"Most certainly," Louisa assured him and he left. She was not entirely certain, but she had had to say it.

Sophie let go of Henry's neck cloth and her hands trailed over his coat, straightening it in places. She would also like to do something to his hair, but she feared that was too forward even for the present company.

"Sophie?" Louisa said warningly. "He looks fine." She knew from experience that her friend was only a tug away from ending up in Henry's lap -- and how would she ever be able to get Sophie off if that happened? Ladies ought to be the strong ones in cases such as these. Gentlemen were never quite as good at resisting temptation if it hovered above them. Even Frederick had chosen to leave the supervising to her, undoubtedly fearing he was too weak to intervene, or perhaps thinking it dishonest to tell his friends not to do what he had done himself.

Sophie sat down in her own chair again, knowing she had tried her luck and succeeded to some extent. "Can I please arrange him to my satisfaction? I am going to marry him."

Henry opened his eyes at these words. "If I arranged myself to my satisfaction, I would go and sit here." He got up and sat on the armrest of Sophie's chair, pulling her closer so she could lean against him.

She did so, although she could tell that it unnerved Louisa immensely.

"You are determined to drive me to the church without delay!" Louisa cried. She put down her cup. "Is this some pressure scheme? Fine! We shall go, but I shall walk in the middle!" There would not be any cuddling on a public road.

"This is what happens when you deny people a simple hand kiss, is it not?" Sophie whispered to Henry. Having to behave properly only prolonged their agony. "I am sure that a more feeling greeting would have satisfied us, had it been allowed by our heartless chaperones."

"You are very wise," he whispered back in admiration.

Louisa looked at them rather desperately. "Please! Can you not wait half an hour? Do it for me. Please? How would it look if I had to lead a cuddling couple to the church?"

You may kiss the bride. Those words echoed in Sophie's head as her new husband zealously obeyed them. She wondered for how long he was allowed to do so, but when he stopped and she was able to look around, Frederick and Louisa were not even in sight anymore. For a second she wondered if they were behind a pillar, but she had no time to suggest such a thing to Henry.

"Oh," Henry said when he noticed as well that they were alone. His reaction was to draw Sophie closer and to kiss her again. He was tempted to think she would not mind.

At some point someone cleared his throat quite audibly. "Henry, Sophie! May I offer you my congratulations or have you become too addicted to that activity already?"

The couple separated, both wondering at Frederick's personal opinion of it. He sounded as if he had first-hand experience at becoming addicted. At any rate, it did not appear to be anything he disapproved of, which was rather odd, given that not long before a simple tug at Henry's coat had been frowned upon.

Congratulations and thanks were exchanged and they walked back to the parsonage for a quick cup of tea before the newly-wed couple retired to Allingham Hall.

Part 28

It was not until their walk that they could really talk. Not much of importance had been said in front of Frederick and Louisa, other than some tiresome arrangements with regard to Sophie's trunks that had been collected. Sophie had really not been interested in having her belongings with her as soon as possible. One could do without a hairbrush. Perhaps in time all these objects would regain their former importance, but right now they were still superfluous and talking about them was tiresome.

"How did you pass the last two days?" Henry asked, Sophie's arm safely in his. "I mean, really?" For she had already briefly said what she had done, but not how she had felt.

"I spent them sitting at the window."

"Waiting?"

"Working," she smiled. "And yes, waiting as well. I had to be ready. Did you read my note?" She did not doubt that he had.

"I did and I did not show it to your butler."

"Thank you. He would have thought that very odd. What did you think of it? Did you like it?"

"It made me very happy. I have written you a response. Find the letter that is hidden on my person," Henry said mischievously. She had given him a great idea.

"I beg your pardon?" That was the oddest order Sophie had ever heard. "In a pocket? You do not have the sort of stockings I do and I could not get to them as easily."

He grinned mysteriously. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. You will have to search me."

"You are wicked." Sophie did not know what to do with him.

"I love being wicked. If you want to read the letter, you had best look for it. It might contain a nice message for you -- if you are interested."

She was interested as well as curious and turned towards him. "Where is it? You will be so wicked as to have it on your skin and then I cannot find it."

"Oh, wicked!" he teased. "Skin! That would be shocking to behold. Why can you not search as far as my skin? You have skin. Or do you have scales?"

"Scales," she blushed. Perhaps she was silly. "Let me try your breast pocket."

He spread his arms wide. "I am not in your way."

"It is not there," she discovered.

"That would be too easy." He was enjoying himself. "Perhaps you need to try other places."

"But we are in the park. I cannot check your all of your pockets here. Will you not simply give it to me?"

"No, I cannot do that," he said with a determined shake of the head. "Wait until we get home."

"But I am curious."

He could see that. It was such an encouragement for mischief. "If you do not want to search me here, you must wait until we are alone."

"But your mother? Is she still there?" She supposed it would be rather impolite to shun Lady Maye, yet it would be impossible to go through Henry's pockets in front of his mother.

"Yes, she is still there, but she will be changing for dinner."

After being presented to the staff, Sophie was taken to her new apartments by Mrs. Hope, who apologised profusely for the fact they had not been readied properly. In fact, they had not been altered since the present Lord Allingham had come to live here and the previous Lady Allingham still insisted on using them. "They are beyond this door, but we cannot enter them now. We had less than two days to prepare them for you, which is very, very little, and on top of this Lady Maye refused to budge! You cannot stay there yet while she is still in there. We shall prepare them for you when she has gone home."

"I shall not mind," Sophie assured her, understanding Lady Maye's stubbornness too. She wondered where she was staying instead and why Lady Maye had not returned to her own house after her plans had been thwarted. Had Henry been another sort of man, he would have sent his mother home or at least sent her out of those rooms to make room for his wife, but Henry was Henry.

"Lord Allingham's rooms are through this door, My Lady. Please follow me," said Mrs. Hope, leading the way. "Sarah picked flowers for you," she said when she saw her new mistress' eyes fell on the vases that adorned the sitting room.

"Please thank Sarah from me. The arrangement is lovely." Sophie was wondering if she was being shown Henry's rooms or if she was to stay here for the time being.

"Your bedchamber is through here, My Lady," Mrs. Hope said as she led her into a bedroom. "Your dressing room is on the other side. When Lady Maye leaves, of course, you will have everything of your own, which I just showed you, but for the time being Lord Allingham said that we should arrange it in this way."

"I shall not mind," Sophie said again. "I think." She was not given the opportunity to object, was she?

There was much to wonder about, however. Her clothes from the parsonage had already been unpacked -- presumably her trunk had been picked up while they were at the church -- and they hung neatly in one of the closets. Someone had arranged her toiletries rather permanently as well.

If she was to have everything of her own, as Mrs. Hope said, then the present arrangement had to mean she was sharing. The dressing room was most obviously shared, because a gentleman's clothes had already been laid out, but there had been no mention of where Lord Allingham slept. Presumably they would not have three beds at their disposal after Lady Maye left. That seemed a bit much. Presumably they had a bed each, which meant that if Lady Maye was in one of them, they would be in the other.

Still, if she could not ask the housekeeper, who else could she ask? She swallowed. "Does Lord Allingham also sleep next door?"

"You definitely do, My Lady, but it is his bed. I do not know whether he is lending it to you including himself, but I have not been requested by him to have another room prepared," Mrs. Hope said uneasily. She did not want to be caught in the middle of all these different wishes. "Only by Lady Maye..."

Sophie almost turned cross-eyed. "Lady Maye! Someone ought to tell that woman that my first husband was so evil he killed himself entering the room with evil thoughts and saying evil things, but luckily before he could carry any of them out. I had nothing to do with it."

"And since Lord Allingham is not at all evil, My Lady, he will live, since he has nothing evil to carry out."

Praise of her husband could always make Sophie smile, whatever the situation. "Indeed, he is too good and I should remember that, but he should stand up to his mother!"

"Lord Allingham will upstairs shortly, I am sure, but if you need him sooner, please ring the bell and someone will show you the study," said Mrs. Hope. She did not want to be caught into saying anything.

Sophie sighed when she was alone. She did not suppose it would take Henry very long to file away the marriage licence, so she could wait here. Some books lay on a side table in the sitting room, but she was not in a mood to read, nor did she feel like working on a sketch. Her drawing materials had also been put there, she noticed.

It was far more exciting to search cabinets and dressers in the bedroom and dressing room and look at all the relatively unfamiliar objects contained therein. She could have had the opportunity to look through Sir Oswald's clothes, but somehow she had been rather too disgusted to feel any sort of curious attraction. She had told his valet he might do with the clothes as he pleased -- take them or sell them. Henry's clothes were a different matter.

Part 29

The first thing Henry did when he arrived was to embrace and kiss Sophie. "I am sorry I left you alone for a while. I had to arrange a few things." He wondered why she seemed to be going through his drawers. There was not much of interest to be found there, he would think.

"And to think I embarked on this journey because I thought I would be alone for most of the day and that would not be such a big difference from my previous situation," Sophie said mockingly. She had been such a foolish girl to think and want that, when it turned out to be so different. "I thought I would see you at breakfast and you would tell me I was beautiful and then I would be free for the rest of the day."

"I would not only tell you that at breakfast," he protested. "Here in the countryside you are indeed free, free to spend the entire day with me if you choose. It would require some adjustments on your side, but nothing painful."

"The entire day?" That was indeed a big difference from what she had been imagining. It might not be negative. "Would we be walking?"

"Not all the time. You may come with me if I go out and you may sit with me if I stay in. We might each have our different work, but I do not see why we should be doing that in separate rooms if that is not necessary. Do you not agree?" He hoped she agreed with him and he hoped he did not sound too eager to spend time with her. "I would not constantly demand your attention. You would be able to do what you wanted," he added as explanation.

"But I would not be lonely," Sophie said with a small smile. "What are the adjustments?"

"I do not always travel in style," Henry said seriously. "Sometimes I take the cart, which may be uncomfortable. Sometimes I watch calves being born, which you may not like."

"Is that not endearing?" She always liked seeing them skipping about in meadows.

He smiled. "They do not pop out easily and they are not clean. It never fails to fascinate me, though, that they always know exactly what to do. They stand up, they drink and they know where to find it too! Of course they do not progress much in the rest of their lives. It is so different from babies, who are born stupid."

"Have you watched baby births as well?" Sophie was amazed.

"Not yet, but they cannot walk for a year and animals can do so instantly. You do not have to be present at the birth to see they cannot do anything, because they will continue to be unable to do anything for at least a year."

"But if it looks like me, would you still think it stupid?" Perhaps he would think red hair more than made up for a baby's inability to walk, although she believed he was exaggerating more than a little.

"That is an evil question and you know it! I would probably try to make it do things before it would think of that itself."

She giggled as she imagined that. "And you would take me to watch animal births, even if you think I may not like it?"

"I would not forbid you to come along if you wanted, but I would warn you that the young do not come out clean and washed out of anything and that ladies are usually not equal to the sight. I have seen young ladies faint at the sight of newborn puppies," he said with a slight roll of his eyes. Some thought it ladylike to be extremely squeamish, or perhaps they feared they would one day produce their own litter in a similar manner, which even he knew to be a silly fear.

Sophie had seen that once and could not remember it at all. "What about the things I must do? Lady Allingham's duties?" Perhaps he would tell her that every Monday she had to make a tour of the estate, or every Tuesday she had to confer with Mrs. Hope.

"I have been doing them for you so far. To some people they are a duty, to others they are common sense," he shrugged, not thinking she would be doing anything she had never heard of.

"In other words, I should not spend all my time commandeering carriages to drive me to the nearest large town for my shopping expeditions," Sophie said with an arch smile. "I should have some interest in your estate, but I should not express this interest by hiring a landscape gardener to redo the park, nor should I have trysts with anybody in the conservatory."

"Unless they are with me."

Since Sophie did not really know precisely what one did under those circumstances, she quickly moved on. "And in the house?"

"You can have trysts with me in the house as well." He would not object to that either. "We are already having one, in fact."

She felt much enlightened. "But housekeeping things, I meant. I may be used to running my house differently."

Henry shrugged. "You are moving into a running household. There are wives who want to make their mark by completely altering and upsetting all existing arrangements and unspoken agreements, but I advise you not to do so. It can only lead to chaos. There were things I changed when I took over, but I did so gradually. I am sure that a gentle insertion or assertion from you would be more effective as well. But since I count on the good sense of the present arrangements, I cannot imagine that you would want to make any large changes," he said with a smile. "You would not be hurting anybody's feelings if you made suggestions to me or to Mrs. Hope, however."

"Will she not resent my presence? My housekeeper certainly did not like to answer to me at first." She had not received that impression from Mrs. Hope, but some people were very good at making deceptive impressions. They might not even know their own hearts instantly.

Henry did not think any problems would arise. "She is a very good housekeeper, as you will find. You can leave the house to her without her assuming any air of self-importance. She will also listen to you without resenting you for speaking."

"How do you know?"

"Perhaps because she has been here for a long time and so have I."

"Would I not be intruding upon your arrangements with Mrs. Hope?" Sophie was not sure how she ought to feel about this. However much sense his words made, it still sounded as if they were running this house and any help from her was unnecessary. It was silly of her, because no good household would have been waiting for her to come along and take charge.

"No, because they are of a different kind."

"But I shall feel completely useless if you do not think there is anything for me to do because it has already been arranged or done by other people."

He raised his eyebrows. "I did not hire you, I married you." There was a considerable difference between the two. He did not know why she wished to be given tasks instantly, or even at all. It would all become apparent sooner or later. He had never had a wife and he could not immediately think what a wife was supposed to do that was not evident.

"I know I married you to be completely useless, but now that I am, I do not want to be," Sophie said in dissatisfaction.

Henry could only laugh at that ironic turn of events. "You married me because you thought I was completely useless."

Sophie gazed upon him in wonder. "When I first thought of marrying you I thought you would do everything I said." He was turning out to be quite different and he was more perceptive than she had given him credit for. He was also not at all offended by her initial impression of him, but he seemed to be enjoying himself as he gently corrected that image.

"And I will -- but I am not useless."

"Would you obey me if I told you to get undressed?" Sophie inquired with a mixture of curiosity and fear. She had not realised she would now have to change for dinner with Henry present, since they were to share a dressing room for the time being. It was one thing to search his pockets, but another to change gowns in front of him. Now that he was not useless, there was no telling what he might do.

"It depends on when you would say it. Should you say it now, I would not be obeying as much as already following my own plans." He looked at the clothes his man had laid out before disappearing discreetly because of his master's new wife. He would now perhaps have to ask for Sophie's assistance. Never mind that he did not really need any. She still needed to find that letter. It was beginning to itch rather uncomfortably on his skin.

"I do not know. But if you did not already have plans of your own, would you obey me?"

"Naturally. If it pleases you to see me undressed, My Lady, you shall have me thus." He loosened his neck cloth and removed it, tossing it at her. "I trust you would not ask me in the middle of dinner."

Sophie was fascinated by the idea that she or anyone would request such a thing at the dinner table, but she still had the presence of mind to catch the neck cloth. "What if I did?"

"Depending on what was on the menu, I would either ask you to wait until after dinner, or I would take you upstairs. But really, you would not ask me during dinner. Only a very bad husband keeps you in the dark about his physique so much that you have to voice your desperation in the middle of dinner, I should think." He started to unbutton his waistcoat in anticipation of her reaction, seemingly careless. He had no idea what her reaction would be.

"You assume two interesting things -- that you are a good husband and that I would be desperate to see you undressed." She tried to ascertain her opinion on these two assumptions. While she was certain he would be a good husband, she did not think she was desperate yet.

"Perhaps." Henry finished unbuttoning his waistcoat, but he did not yet remove it. "But I meant that only if you voiced such a thing during dinner, would you be desperate. I know you will not do so, which means that you have either already been shown the sight by the time you go to dinner, or you do not care to see it." Sometimes he wished she would react like a typical female and squeal, but she only asked questions.

Sophie covered her eyes with her hands when turning away she found she would still see him in the mirror if he continued to undress. Suddenly she felt two hands on her shoulders and a kiss on her cheek.

"You are really not biddable," she croaked. He was in control of this and he was making her behave exactly the way he wanted.

"Oh, I am, but wise wife of mine, you ought to realise that in thirty years you could not care less anymore? In fact, that might already be by the end of the week. I think that if you persisted in hiding your eyes I should be doing something terribly wrong as a husband." It was gratifying at least that giving her kisses seemed to be terribly right.

"You are not biddable," she said again. She did not deserve to be called a wise wife at all, because she had been mistaken about his character. Perhaps he had meant his words mockingly.

"Fine, have it your way, My Lady. I shall be biddable and agree that I am not biddable at all." He sounded amused.

"Are you going to sit and watch me too?" She might not have the power to send him away. He might not even listen if she did, because surprisingly he seemed to have a mind of his own. She could not yet tell whether he really knew he could obtain what he wanted by being affectionate with her, or whether this was pure luck.

"I shall await your orders in that respect." He sensed she might prefer him to leave or turn around. "I am, after all, biddable. That I have my hands on your shoulders is not to keep you in this room, but because I like touching you. You are free to leave. You are also free to send me away if that makes you more comfortable."

"Hmm," said Sophie. Perhaps he was too charming to abandon. "But you are hoping I will not. And I want to see the letter." Coming to a decision was so difficult at times.

He let go of her shoulders and lay on the floor on his back. "I told you to come and get it. No coercion, as you see."

"You are insane!" she commented with a giggle. "What if I told you to pull it out of whatever you keep it in and simply give it to me?"

"Then I would do so, but I may have to remove some clothes to get to it -- or I may not. If I were too detailed, you would know where it is. The choice is yours, but you must decide well before dinner, so that we are not late."

Sophie's curiosity was trying to persuade her to stay. She sat on her chair looking down on him, still outstretched on the floor. She tried to see if she could make out the straight angles from a folded sheet under his clothes, but she saw nothing, save for an attractive gentleman she was now allowed to refer to as her husband. This merited an inspection in itself.

"Are you hoping that lightning will strike the hiding place if you wait long enough?" he wondered.

"I do not know what to do with you." Yet she had to decide on that before dinner and change gowns as well. Perhaps she should do that first to give her more time to think.

"That is obvious."

She still had his neck cloth and realised it could be used for other purposes as well when she looked at it. It was big and thick enough to make it impossible for him to see through. She folded it into a blindfold.

He saw her advance with it and looked afraid. "Do not strangle me because of my naughty suggestions!"

She knelt by his head, looking confused, especially by that adjective. Had any of his suggestions been naughty? "I...well, if you do as I say, I will not," she said, thinking quickly. His apparent fear gave her some power, something she had lost to him completely, or so she had thought. Perhaps she could regain some of it. "Promise?"

"Promise."

She laid the cloth over his eyes. "Promise to lie still and to keep this over your eyes."

"And what will you do in the meantime?" He still did not sound reassured.

"Are you afraid of me?" she asked a little incredulously.

"Perhaps. I am not wholly confident." He was curious enough not to remove the cloth from his eyes, however.

"Henry, if you lie still I promise you no harm will come to you at all." She stroked his hair as if he were a little boy and she spoke to him in the same way. His rather fearful manner invited it.

"Except that bucket of ice-cold water you will be fetching," he muttered. "All this petting is to make me believe I am safe and comfortable and loved."

"Do you like it then?" she asked, continuing to ruffle his hair gently with one hand and undoing her gown at the back with her other hand.

"Yes, I love it, but I cannot help but think you have something wicked in store for me."

"I shall not leave the room. I can prove this to you too. If you count out loud, I shall give you a kiss every thirty seconds." She thought she might be able to bribe him with that.

"Five," Henry negotiated. "There is plenty of time to get a bucket of water in less than thirty seconds. In fact, there is a jug right behind the screen. Thirty is much too long."

"Thirty seconds or you will not get any kisses at all," said Sophie, standing firm. She felt proud of herself.

"Then I have no option but to make them last," he sighed.

"No, I decide how long they last. You merely lie still and suffer them."

"Perhaps you should stop talking and make me suffer," he said invitingly.

She leant forwards, one arm and shoulder already out of her gown, and kissed him -- briefly.

"Sophie!" Henry had some complaints about the duration of that kiss. "That was not a kiss. A real kiss is like the one we shared in church."

She wriggled her other arm out of her gown, trying not to make the fabric rustle. "And the next one is not going to happen any sooner if you do not count to thirty."

He heard a strange sound he could not yet place. "Just what are you doing?"

"My husband should trust me," she said in a sweet voice.

He sighed. "But that is very difficult if I cannot see what you are doing. You are moving about. I can hear you. One ... two..."

As he counted, Sophie stepped out of the gown and picked out one for dinner. It would perhaps cost her two kisses, but not much more. She only had to button it up at the back when he reached thirty. It was amazing that he had not looked and not sped up his counting. He was so very good. She leant over him to kiss him and made it last a bit longer this time.

"That was better," Henry commented.

"I am also done." She removed the neck cloth from his eyes.

"What have you done? What are you done with?" he asked.

"Is that not obvious?" She was wearing another gown. "Can you not see?"

Henry sat up and looked around the room, his eyes falling on a discarded dress. Perhaps she had been wearing that one before. He tried to remember. "Did you change?"

"I did!" she cheered. "And you did not see a thing! Well, all you would have seen would have been my chemise anyway, so you did not miss much."

He was amused by her victorious manner. "I feel a bit hesitant as to whether I should feel proud of you in this case. I applaud your deviousness, but..."

"Are you disappointed now?" Sophie wondered. "You got two kisses."

"True. I stand corrected. I got more than I deserved. But I will get you tonight."

That made her look anxious and shocked and her tone changed immediately. "You will?"

He frowned at the expression on her face. "I think I may have phrased that badly. I will outdo you in deviousness tonight -- unless you plan to sleep in this gown?"

"I might," she said cautiously.

He laughed at her seriously considering that notion. "Whenever you remove it next then. I would request a removal by the end of the week, if not sooner. I insist that you bathe sometime."

Part 30

"You still have to relieve me of that itching letter," said Henry when Sophie began to do her hair, as if she had forgotten that everything had started out by mentioning the letter. It was still itching and he really wanted to get rid of it, but he did not want to do that himself. It would be so much nicer if Sophie did it.

"Itching?" If it itched, she thought, it could not be in one of his pockets in one of the upper layers of his clothes.

"That was a clue. And you still have to remove my clothes." He would not make half the effort if she responded less cautiously, but it felt as if she needed some encouragement. He had never known he was so willing to give it.

She looked the other way. "I do not. I do not even have to remove your shoes."

His own wickedness made him snicker. "My mother would think you a bad wife if you allowed me to go down to dinner dressed like this."

The mention of his mother caused Sophie to open and close her mouth a few times in agitation. She had completely forgotten about that woman. It was beyond question that Lady Maye considered her to be a bad wife, but in this case she might have something to say about her son's behaviour as well. "Your mother would think you a bad husband if she saw you lying on the floor! Especially if she heard you make such requests of me!" He was the most aggravating flirt she had ever encountered.

"Yes, probably," he grinned, sitting up straight. "But you had ordered me to undress, I believe. Tell me when and where and how."

She was not going to do anything of the sort. "Where is that letter? Top or bottom?" Perhaps she could do it in part.

"Back or front?" he added. "I know and you do not. But fine, I can do like you and keep my clothes on until it pleases you to remove them. Until then you will not know what I wrote."

"I can get you to say it without any problem," she said confidently.

"You can get me to imply it, that is all. But I shall burn this letter because it itches and write a new one when you are ready to search." He had spoken in jest, but realised it was actually a very good idea. It was a very good way of solving the itching problem.

"That is too evil!" Sophie cried.

"No, it is not." He went into the bedroom.

She followed him a few seconds later, suddenly fearing he was going to dispose of the letter there.

"What are you doing?" she exclaimed when she saw he had crawled into bed and he was apparently doing something to his clothing under the covers.

His answer sounded muffled. "I am removing the letter from its hiding place so you will not know where it was."

"But I had not yet said I did not want to look for it!" She felt disappointed somehow that he was going to make that impossible. She was still curious.

"Oh, you meant to keep me on a string until five minutes before dinner? That is not very nice."

She wrung her hands because she knew he was right. She had kept him waiting awfully long and it was not strange that he had decided he would wait no longer. "But I have changed my mind." Changing her mind ought to be allowed. It happened to the best of people.

"In that case..." Henry did not ask any questions, but merely lifted a corner of the blankets invitingly. "Join me."

"But I have just changed!" In the best case her gown would have to be straightened again and in the worst case she would have to pull on a new one.

"Which took you less than thirty seconds and your hair is not even done yet, so that is a bad argument. Yes or no?"

"Yes."

Part 31

Lady Maye was not well pleased with the news of their marriage. Except for some very brief and very formal congratulations, she did not say anything to either of them when they came downstairs for dinner. Quickly she returned to perusing a letter that seemingly gave her much to think about.

Henry was glad they did not have much time to spare, so that his mother's lack of manners could not become too acute. As soon as he could he led the ladies to the dining room.

Lady Maye had to give up her seat at the head of the table. Had it been any other kind of woman, Sophie might have left that place to her, but in this case she did not mind claiming it.

Her Ladyship ate her dinner in silence as if it was her very last time. The gravity with which she cut her food was at odds with the joyous event that had happened today.

The other two were fairly silent as well, but not because they thought they would never have a meal again. Sophie had too much on her mind to speak. She was still digesting the events that had taken place upstairs and she feared that if she opened her mouth it would be to giggle something foolish, which would not do at all for a respectable Viscountess who was getting on in age. She restricted herself to smiling at Henry.

He was content to smile back. Her behaviour was exemplary. Perhaps she was not even aware that his mother was slighting her. She was very calm about that, as if it did not affect her at all. He was also pleased to note that nobody would be able to tell that he had dressed Sophie, because obviously she and her gown had not looked fit to be shown to others after the search for the letter.

It had been a very agreeable start of their marriage, he thought. Now that he was seated at dinner, he could reflect upon his behaviour with more detached feelings and he felt the urge to pull an embarrassed face. To say he did not stand on ceremony was an understatement if he had even lain on the floor. Nevertheless, a certain degree of exaggeration and bluffing were often successful when it came to making a point.

At other times, honesty and purity prevailed, as in the letter. Sophie had gasped upon seeing the page-long outpour. It was indeed a bit longer than the note she had written, but it had in part been a reaction to that and they seemed to progress a little each time. It was not strange that their notes became longer as well.

The situation after dinner was again very awkward, as the ladies retired without saying a word to each other. Henry did not make it too long before he joined them and he still found the same icy tension pervading the room. Apparently they had not spoken in his absence either. He was happy, Sophie was not unhappy, he thought, and he wished for his mother to be happy as well. The least she could do for him was to refrain from spoiling his day by behaving as though the world was about to come to an end because he had married.

Little did he know that Lady Maye had found the drafts of his letters to Lady Hartley and Lord Hartley, which had been a little more effusive in sentiments than Henry had let on to Sophie, not only about Sophie herself, but also about his mother and her plans. Lady Maye had been quite shocked to read them. Thankfully after finding the drafts she had had an entire day to recover before he returned.

The experience had left her afraid and empty-hearted. She was not used to confiding in others about her family and there would not even have been anyone to confide in. Her son was going to be lost to her forever and he was all she had. He did not care about her feelings. Although he had not written this literally, he wished she would leave him alone. He wished she would leave him to be killed by that minx, who may be looking all prim and proper now, but who was the devil in the flesh. One had only to look at the fleeting expressions of evil that crept into her face now and then.

Henry was going to be lost. She could not help but think that some of this was her fault. Her plans for him had driven him to this state of rebellion in which he would no longer listen to her. She only wished to see him settled, so that in a way her existence was validated.

Sophie saw tears glistening in the proud lady's eyes. The discovery was too much of a shock for her to think instantly. "Leave us, Henry," she requested.

He looked surprised.

"I will send for you later. Leave us."

He could only obey that commanding tone. If his wife wished to know his mother better, he would not stand in their way and he could only suppose that they had subjects to talk about that he had better not hear.

"I will really not kill him," Sophie said after a few moments of thinking.

"My only child," said Lady Maye with infinite sadness.

"And now you have two, whether you like it or not."

"Two." It was spoken with incredulity.

"If you would but accept me as your daughter, Lady Maye."

"I lost all my daughters. I cannot." With those cold words, Lady Maye rose and left the room.

Sophie sat in silence, shaking her head. The loss of her children could not leave Lady Maye as cold as she pretended to be. She wondered when they had been lost. Perhaps Lady Maye feared she was about to lose another -- her only -- child, but that was not the case. She was going to take good care of Henry.

Part 32

"She said I now have two children, but I cannot accept it," the lady said in a cold voice, but her hands were making quick nervous movements. "It is a lie. She means to take him away from me."

Her arrival took Mrs. Hope rather by surprise. She got to her feet and waited for what Her Ladyship would do next. Something seemed to be bothering her very much and the very cold voice did not bode very well. In the past it had always been a sign that Her Ladyship was close to giving in to some violent emotion. However, the Countess had not really spoken to her for many years. It was a surprise that she came to do so now.

Lady Maye sat down. "I lost all my daughters. She would not understand. Some before birth. Too many failures. He proved it was my fault, did he not?" She gave Mrs. Hope's daughter a sideways glance.

"Perhaps you had better leave us for a moment, Sarah," her mother said kindly. The girl got up and left reluctantly.

"He said it was my fault he had to resort to proving his worth elsewhere. And now this minx plans to take my only child from me," said Lady Maye. "The only thing at which I succeeded. What am I supposed to do? Oh yes, she says she will not kill him, but is that true? Why else would she have married him, but for his money? I shall not sleep a wink, knowing she might be busy killing him. At first I hoped he would not visit her, but I saw him smile and I know that he will! It is very distressing. And all this nonsense about her first husband. Of course she would tell him that so he would feel sorry. I am not confident!"

That much was obvious to Mrs. Hope. "There are several issues here. Perhaps we should try to separate them?" There was no real problem, if Lady Maye could be convinced to abandon her fears.

Lady Maye was incapable of making a start. She merely looked blank.

"First of all," Mrs. Hope began. "She will not murder him. He managed to win her affection and even without this, I doubt that she would have murdered him. She did not murder her husband. His heart stopped."

"What if she murders Henry to prevent him from being like her first husband?" Lady Maye nervously plucked at her skirts. She could well imagine such a thing happening out of fear, after what Henry had told her.

"Did she tell you about him? She said he was quite evil."

"Henry did. He thought it would reassure me to hear what had transpired, but not at all!" One wrong move on his part and he would be dead.

"Of course she does not quite trust men -- and who can blame her?" Mrs. Hope muttered in the same breath. "But she knows Henry is not evil, so she has no reasons to wish him dead. Second, how would you lose him if there is no doubt that he stays alive?"

To that Lady Maye had no answer.

"Third, she was right. You gained a daughter."

"I cannot! I cannot accept her and then have her take my Henry. It would feel like a loss again -- I cannot." A few tears slowly rolled down her face, but she wiped them away angrily.

"But I have just explained that she will not take him away from you. My Lady, why do you not speak to her and settle this before the night?" Mrs. Hope had no doubt that this could be settled.

The proud lady shook her head. "I cannot speak of it to a stranger. You already know the story, Mrs. Hope. It is easier. I cannot speak of it to her."

"She will not understand you until you do. And she is no longer a stranger. With a view to grandchildren, perhaps ... hmm..." Mrs. Hope said suggestively.

"I lost all my daughters," Lady Maye said in a harsh voice when she returned to Sophie.

Sophie had felt some pain upon first hearing that. The loss of her children had to have affected Lady Maye. She had sat here wondering what had happened and how many daughters had been lost. The harsh voice did not bother her now.

"Most were not even born. Too many failures. Lord Maye grew impatient. He proved it was my fault."

"What did he do?" Sophie whispered as tears sprang into her eyes upon hearing there had been too many failures. She would probably be devastated at one and she could not imagine how it would feel if it happened constantly. It could not be anybody's fault and someone who was trying to prove the contrary was unfeeling and cruel. How could one prove that anyway?

"Henry's father has more children, but not by me. And now you plan to take --" She stopped to choke.

"I do not plan to take his life!" Sophie cried. "I plan to share his life. Did he not convince you?" She had coloured in shock upon hearing Henry's father had more children. Lady Maye would be too proud to speak of this humiliation often, she sensed, especially since Lord Maye had apparently said it was her own fault. How could he have done that? She had never met him, but she did not think very favourably of him now. She wanted to reassure the woman.

"He told me to stay out of his life. I cannot. Henry is my only --" His mother choked again.

Sophie went to sit beside her. Henry was the only one who had lived. "He is all you have. I understand. I will take good care of him. He will be a much better husband than that useless one of yours, even if it is his father. I wish I could convince you. I wish I could make you happy. What can I do? I wish I could promise you many grandchildren so that you will have more than only Henry, but that is not for me to say." She was even less able to promise that than before, after this story.

Lady Maye bent her head.

"But I shall try as soon as I feel up to it," Sophie promised. "Why do you not go to sleep? And tomorrow we can be better acquainted?"

When Lady Maye had gone upstairs, Sophie rang for a footman to find Henry, but the footman returned to say Lord Allingham was in the study and he had asked her to join him there. She was surprised, but she followed the footman nonetheless.

She found Henry talking to a young girl, too young to be a servant. Sophie would have remembered her if she had been among the servants earlier.

"This is Sarah," said Henry.

The girl curtseyed shyly, alternating between looking at the floor and studying Sophie curiously.

"The flowers," Sophie said. She remembered the name. Mrs. Hope had said that a Sarah had picked the flowers. This must be the same girl. "They were very pretty. Thank you."

The compliment made Sarah blush.

"Flowers?" Henry asked.

"In your room! You did not see them?"

"I only saw you," he said smoothly. "Sarah wanted to see what you were like."

"Well, I am more observant than my husband, for one," Sophie said to Sarah. "How could he not see the flowers? He must be blind. I shall point them out to him tonight and tomorrow he must tell you how well they looked. Will you not, Henry?"

"Naturally." He was still expecting Sophie to ask who the girl was.

"When they die, will you pick new ones for me?" Sophie asked.

"I do not yet know if my Mama will allow me, My Lady," Sarah said softly. "I have my lessons too."

"Here in the house?" She began to wonder now if the girl lived here.

"No, My Lady." Sarah looked at the clock. "I must go to bed now. Good night." She ran off quickly.

"Who was that?" Sophie finally asked.

"Mrs. Hope's daughter." He hesitated. "Also, which but a few people know, my half sister."

By now Sophie could no longer be very surprised. She accepted the news in resignation. "Your mother mentioned your father's indiscretions, although she did not mention any names. But she is not known as your sister?"

"No." He wondered at his mother mentioning that to Sophie. What could have been the point?

She sighed and looked away. "My dear Lord Allingham. You make sure I am bound to you for life and then you open a closet and all your crazy relatives come stumbling out." There was a distinct flavour of deviousness to that. She could no longer turn back now and was forced to take it in stride.

"At least I hide them in a closet. You let Hartley roam the streets," he shot back, recognising that she had a point. It did indeed seem as if he had deliberately kept this information from her until they were safely married. "But really, Sophie, which one of them is crazy?" He moved towards her and laid his hands on her shoulders.

"Oh and now you will kiss me so that I will think it all normal," she predicted.

"Do I have that power?" he asked interestedly and then turned serious. "What would you have wanted me to do? Tell them I do not approve of what was done to them, through no fault of their own, and turn them away because I do not want to be associated with the scandal?"

She shook her head. She knew it would have been impossible for him to look the other way. "No. I am sure you did right, but to have all of this revealed to me right now feels rather devious to me."

"Apart from the fact that it never came up in conversation, it would really have recommended myself to you if I had informed you of my father's character," he said sarcastically. "You would have assumed I was just like him. It would not have done your opinion of gentlemen any good."

"No," she agreed in a small voice.

"Be glad it was my father's indiscretion and not mine."

She looked alarmed.

"I have none," he assured her.

"It would have been your mother's death and I would not have lived so happily either. I sent her to bed."

"You sent her to bed?" Henry echoed. "What did you speak about with her?" It had to be something distressing if his mother had to be sent to bed afterwards.

"I feel so sorry for her, losing so many babies and then only having you and fearing she will lose you to me." She wrapped her arms around him, hiding her face. "Promise me that if I do not give you any you will not go and have them elsewhere and tell me that it is my fault that you have to. That part of the story really bothered me most."

"We can always take an orphan from the village," he promised. He was clever enough to piece the story together on his own and he held Sophie tight as he did so. "I would have wanted for our wedding night to start out a little more happily," he said with some regret. "Instead, you have been treated to all the grief and shame from my family's history."

"But you had already been treated to mine," she said softly. "It is best to get it out of the way as soon as possible, so that we understand everything a little better. I could dwell on all the sadness, but I could also try to think of how good you must have been throughout and how we can cheer your mother up."

"I think it would cheer her up immensely to see us both appear at breakfast tomorrow, happy and in one piece."

"What could prevent us?" She had no plans to murder him.

"Oh, many things." Henry pushed her towards the door so they could go upstairs. It would not be so difficult to keep her in one piece, but to make and keep her happy was a more difficult task, considering the circumstances and her history. "You must promise me not to do any serious damage to my person. I was pleased to find you cut the nails. The search for the letter would have been so much less pleasant otherwise."

Part 33

"Sophie! I hope you did not find the arrangements too distressing," Henry said in the morning when he sensed Sophie was awake.

"Now you ask me, when I can no longer change them." She sounded complacent. "I might even enjoy being married to you, Lord Allingham." He had proved to be no worse than what she had already known and suspected, only much better, and at some point during the night she might have said she loved him, but her memory was not very clear on this point. It might have been a dream.

"Really?" He was happy to hear it. Perhaps he should indeed have asked her the question some time yesterday afternoon.

"Perhaps Lady Maye would like to stay in her rooms whenever she visits? She has all the rights of seniority to the grandest suite for a lady. I should be happy to take second place by being relegated to my husband's apartments," she said teasingly. Such an arrangement would suit her very well.

He stared at her, but it was still half dark and he could not see much. He would guess her to be smiling.

"Should I have awaited your invitation?" she wondered. Perhaps she was being indecently forward about this compared to other wives, although Henry had never behaved as though he minded -- on the contrary. He could not mind honesty. Besides, he did not know how other wives behaved either.

"No, I made the arrangements. I am very pleased they are to your liking." He could not adequately express the warm feeling he got upon hearing her words.

Sophie moved a little closer. "You are very much to my liking as well. Unexpectedly so. What would your mother think? Would she be pleased she can keep her suite?"

"I think that in refusing to change rooms she meant to keep you away from me, not drive you into my arms," he said reflectively. Having her in his arms was very much to his liking, not unexpectedly so.

"During the night, did I tell you something?" she asked. She could well imagine telling him all kinds of things, especially if she was being held.

"Many things."

"Of a particular nature? Relating to you?"

He felt like teasing her a bit. "I daresay half the things you said related to me, which was very agreeable."

Sophie decided to ask him outright. "Did I tell you I loved you?"

"You did." He wondered if she was going to tell him again, but most of all he wondered why she did not remember this as clearly as he did.

She felt excited. "Did you reply anything?"

"I did."

"Do not tease me so! What did you reply?"

He laughed and squeezed her. "I said I knew you would. Then you asked me how I could have known and I replied that I had not known, but that I said this to vex you. Do you really not remember any of this?"

"I thought it was a dream. It sounded too silly to be real, but now that we are starting again I can actually comprehend that people of sense should let this happen to them. Do you think I was truthful?" She was wondering about that herself. On the whole she would not say such things if she did not mean them, she thought.

Henry did not care much. "At that moment you were. I do not really mind if now you cannot repeat it. You will some day."

Her husband deferred more things to some day, but Sophie did not mind in the least. She gave him a kiss for it.

"Good morning, Lady Maye," Sophie said sweetly some time later when they entered the breakfast room. "I hope you slept well. Look whom I brought. It is your son. In good health."

"Good morning, Mama." Henry would say he was in good health indeed. His mother could not fail to notice the same. She had looked a little relieved upon seeing him, although she had been quick to hide it.

"Did she stay with you, Henry?" Lady Maye asked suspiciously.

"Yes, Mama. My wife stayed with me and very little harm came to either of us."

"You mean no harm at all!" Sophie exclaimed. "I must thank you for him, Lady Maye. He is so very sweet."

Henry did not even mind that such an embarrassing thing was said about him, but he smiled.

"I think I shall really, really like being married," Sophie philosophised. She sat down. "Eating breakfast with other people!"

"Is that all you like? Thank you very much!"

"You are one of the people with whom I eat," she reminded him and then turned to her mother-in-law, who looked a little fatigued. "How was your night, My Lady?"

"It could have been better," the older woman said stiffly.

Henry shot his wife a look. He had predicted that his mother might have some trouble sleeping. "Will tonight be better, Mama?"

"Perhaps."

"Of course it will!" Sophie said cheerfully. "You have not seen us together yet." She had no doubt that their interaction would convince anyone that they could safely be left alone. Nothing bad would happen at all.

Henry coughed and Lady Maye looked alarmed.

"But ... er ... you will," Sophie said in response to their reactions. "He said that I may accompany him all day, you see."

"That is most unusual, Henry," said his mother. "You cannot drag your wife across your estate when you go about your muddy business." She supposed he would be worse here at home than on his father's estate, but even there he misbehaved so terribly as to return all muddy sometimes.

"I do not have to drag her. She walks on her own."

"Yes, but what would other people think of it? Suppose visitors call and the lady of the house is out looking at pigs?"

"Pigs!" he repeated, but he knew his mother was close to surrendering. He knew the pig story to which she was referring.

"Do not deny you are sometimes out to look at pigs. The Courtneys called once, they wrote, and you were out looking at pigs."

Henry thought of making a comparison between Mrs. Courtney and a pig, but decided against it. "You know what I think of the Courtneys."

"And you know what the Courtneys would think if the lady of the house were also looking at pigs and how they would gossip about it. They would imply all manner of things to everybody."

"Their opinion would be even worse if I had children, I suppose," Sophie said thoughtfully. "And I was neglecting them, but they would probably be with us looking at the animals."

"The Courtneys are people who would assume you were discussing having more children with your husband, really," said Henry, who did not respect them much. "And that you would prefer that activity over sharing gossip with them. I was, however, really out on the farm looking at animals when they called."

Lady Maye choked on her tea and Sophie looked confused. "Why would we need to discuss that?" she asked. "You would be pleased with any and your saying more children implies you will have come to know how some day."

He grinned. "We shall discuss it when the Courtneys stop by. I am sure they will do so in the course of next week. That gives us enough time to prepare and they will have gossiped their little brains out to everybody after seeing you in church today."

Epilogue

"This is your brother," Henry said to a row of almost identical girls of various sizes who sat waiting very quietly like good girls should. As always, he marvelled at how well behaved they were when it mattered. His mother preferred to keep them in another part of the house where they could all be blissfully unaware whenever such a thing was going on. Perhaps she had told them to be quiet. "Come and have a look."

Only the older girls looked as if they understood him. They came closer in awe, the youngest following them out of habit. He handed the baby to his mother and they all assembled around her.

Lady Maye laid the baby on her lap for a quick inspection, but everything looked perfect and it was indeed a boy. She smiled, also because she was relieved that all had gone well again. She never dared to watch and she had always been content to leave that to the other grandmother.

"Brother? Are you certain?" the eldest girl asked doubtfully after examining the baby. "He does not look like us." The baby did not have much hair, for one. "How do you know it is our brother? Did he say so? But he cannot speak."

"You have the same parents, so it is your brother," said Lady Maye. "Do you really think a boy should look like you? Henry, I am very pleased for you that it is a boy, finally."

"Why is that, Grandmama?" the girl was quick to ask. "Do you not like girls?"

"You all look like your mother. Your father would like someone to look like him for a change." And, she thought, Henry's father would appreciate the news, if it still got through to him. He had become rather old and he no longer travelled. She had come here alone and she did not mind staying for a while.

"But this baby is bald. You should get a new one," was the serious advice.

"Yes, I want a row of well-behaved little boys as well, but that takes time. Some day, by the time it is time for a next one, this one will have more hair." Henry was not at all concerned about that. His youngest daughter had plenty of hair by now as well. Perhaps his eldest had forgotten how the previous baby had looked.

"I do not know if there is such a thing as a row of well-behaved little boys," his mother commented. They would not have sat waiting so patiently, she was sure.

"I do not think it likely that we shall ever come to have enough of them to form a row anyway," he said dryly. Perhaps one more would be nice to keep the poor boy company, but well-behaved little girls were also welcome.

Sophie had teased that it was enough now that there was a boy, but she would never have requested him to bring all the girls upstairs as soon as possible if she was not extremely fond of them.

He handed the new baby back to her carefully and gave her a kiss, at first listening to his daughters impertinently asking her questions, but soon his fatigue took over and he dozed off in his chair. Everything had been taken care of. He could rest.

The End

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