What a Widow Wants by Jenna Jaxon

Author:Jenna Jaxon
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2018-10-03T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 16

Fanny sent a stricken look to Matthew, who had bolted up at the name. Oh, dear Lord, she mouthed at him. What do we do?

He scrambled from the bed and bent to snatch his clothes from the pile where he’d disrobed.

“Just a moment, my lady. I’m not dressed.” A quick glance around the room showed nowhere for Matthew to hide. Neither the wardrobe nor the screen were large enough, and the latter was raised on legs so his feet would be seen in any case. She rushed to him and whispered, “What can we do? What will she say if she finds you here?”

“Nothing you would want to hear in polite company, I imagine.” He’d managed to draw his shirt over his head, but his entire bottom half was bare. “Mother isn’t a high stickler; however, finding her son in a woman’s room in absolute disarray will bring down a firestorm upon my head, and a chastisement upon yours, that we do not wish to experience. Trust me on this if on nothing else.”

“What if we tell her we are betrothed?”

“No difference. Except additional consternation that we hadn’t told her already that we were engaged.” He strode to the window and peered out. “I doubt the fall would kill me, although I might need to say my wedding vows from a sick bed with broken bones.”

“I forbid you to go out that window, Matthew.”

“I see no other choice, my dear.”

“Lady Stephen?” The door handle rattled. “Are you quite well?”

“Dear God.” Fanny grabbed the clothing Matthew was clutching to his chest and threw it under the bed. “Get under there.”

“I won’t fit.” Still he dropped to his knees, then flat to the floor.

Unfortunately, the bed was not as high as some others she’d been in, but there was no time to lose. She put her hands on his derriere and pushed. The uncarpeted floor assisted their efforts and Matthew disappeared beneath the low-hanging blue coverlet. Tossing his shoes after him, she called, “I’m coming,” and hastily spread the covers up, desperately trying to make it seem that only one person had been in that bed.

Thank God she’d never taken off her dressing gown. She pulled at it to make it hang right, then tying the belt, ran swiftly to the door, turned the lock, and opened it.

“Good evening, my lady,” she said, in what she prayed was a calm voice. “Is there something amiss?”

Attired in a pink and gray silk dressing gown, Lady Lathbury stepped over the threshold, calmly peering around Fanny’s room, a frown on her face. “No, nothing of any serious import. I had gone to see to a guest who had complained of a headache and was returning to my suite. Passing by your room I noticed the lights on and thought you might be restless.”

“Oh, no.” Fanny feigned lethargy by pretending to stifle a yawn. “I read for a while and had fallen asleep without blowing out the lamps.”

“I see.” The countess smiled and turned toward the door.

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