Always the Widow (Never the Bride #9) - Emily E.K. Murdoch Page 0,2

head of the house if you did not count—

“There you are! And how sad you are alone, you must miss our dear Elmore to distraction!”

Elizabeth swallowed. This was the conversation she had been most dreading, and she should be grateful, in a way, that it was happening early in the proceedings. She could then enjoy the rest of the day—or at least, enjoy it as best she could.

Although she longed to say that she was glad her husband was dead, Elizabeth managed to control herself. That was hardly a polite thing to say to anyone, but it would be monstrous to say to his mother.

“Yes, of course,” she demurred quietly.

“You know, this happy day reminds me of your wedding,” the dowager said impressively. She was an elderly woman now, closer to eighty, but still with the same iron core and temper she had fifty years ago.

Elizabeth held her tongue. She had enjoyed that day, too, until the evening…

“Now, my dear, you do not look entirely well,” said the dowager with what she evidently thought was a smile. “I suppose ’tis too early to tell if…well, I know you would tell me as soon as you had any suspicion you were…”

It was all too apparent what the older woman wanted to ask, but Elizabeth was not going to give her what she wanted.

“If I knew I was with child,” she lied calmly with a smile, “of course, I would say.”

She hated the lie. She had never been someone to speak untruths. But she had to keep this secret. No one could know, not even—especially her mother-in-law.

A posthumous child, conceived before the death of her husband, was an unusual occurrence at the best of times, but given the circumstances of this conception…

Elizabeth steeled herself to stick to the lie. She could not speak the truth. She would not say anything, not until it was absolutely impossible to deny.

The child starting to grow inside her, her miracle, was an innocent. No matter what its father was, she would protect it, guard it, keep it from the harm of the world.

And the first harm was, sadly, her mother-in-law.

“You will have to excuse me, Lady Howard,” she said with a forced smile. “I need to speak with Mrs. Marnion about something vital.”

Curtseying low, Elizabeth strode away.

Well, that was one positive. When Elmore had been alive, he would have been gambling in one room, and she would have been forced to keep her mother-in-law company—for hours on end.

Now she was her own woman, able to make her own decisions, with all the dignity that being a widow gave one.

Well, almost. She was still a Howard, one of three women now, and as soon as the family found out she was with child…

It took only a few minutes to find Mrs. Marnion, and Elizabeth smiled with relief as she approached her. Mrs. Marnion was not a friend, exactly. Elmore had not liked her to have friends. But she was an acquaintance, and one Elizabeth liked.

The feeling, apparently, no longer seemed to be mutual. A distinct look of discomfort colored Mrs. Marnion’s features, eyes looking desperately for a way out.

Elizabeth swallowed down her disappointment and frustration.

Besides, though she would never admit it, Elizabeth knew her marriage had been over for years. Elmore had been no husband to her. One could not mourn what one did not have.

“Mrs. Marnion,” she said aloud, curtsying as she reached her.

Mrs. Marnion inclined her head without curtseying, a great show of disapproval.

Elizabeth fought down the instinct to point out that she was a Howard, whereas Mrs. Marnion’s husband was in trade. But that was not who she was. That was what Elmore had been.

“I have broken my vow of staying quietly at home, as ’tis a family wedding,” she said, attempting to put the woman at ease. “I know society believes it to be wrong of me to be here so soon after losing my husband.”

Mrs. Marnion sniffed. “Lady Romeril thinks you should not have come at all.”

It was impossible not to sigh at this pronouncement. Of course she does. Lady Romeril always had an opinion about everything in society, and it was only her righteous standing in the ton—and her ability to give out or rescind vouchers to Almack’s—which made her such a force to be reckoned with.

Aloud, she said, “How very kind of Lady Romeril to be concerned about my welfare. As it is, I chose to support my brother-in-law, the head of my family, as you know, and that is