Always the Widow Read online

  Always the Widow

  Never the Bride

  Book 9

  Emily E K Murdoch

  © Copyright 2020 by Emily E K Murdoch

  Text by Emily E K Murdoch

  Cover by Dar Albert

  Dragonblade Publishing, Inc. is an imprint of Kathryn Le Veque Novels, Inc.

  P.O. Box 7968

  La Verne CA 91750

  [email protected]

  Produced in the United States of America

  First Edition December 2020

  Kindle Edition

  Reproduction of any kind except where it pertains to short quotes in relation to advertising or promotion is strictly prohibited.

  All Rights Reserved.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  License Notes:

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook, once purchased, may not be re-sold. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it or borrow it, or it was not purchased for you and given as a gift for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. If this book was purchased on an unauthorized platform, then it is a pirated and/or unauthorized copy and violators will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Do not purchase or accept pirated copies. Thank you for respecting the author’s hard work. For subsidiary rights, contact Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.

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  Dearest Reader;

  Thank you for your support of a small press. At Dragonblade Publishing, we strive to bring you the highest quality Historical Romance from the some of the best authors in the business. Without your support, there is no ‘us’, so we sincerely hope you adore these stories and find some new favorite authors along the way.

  Happy Reading!

  CEO, Dragonblade Publishing

  Additional Dragonblade books by Author Emily E K Murdoch

  Never The Bride Series

  Always the Bridesmaid (Book 1)

  Always the Chaperone (Book 2)

  Always the Courtesan (Book 3)

  Always the Best Friend (Book 4)

  Always the Wallflower (Book 5)

  Always the Bluestocking (Book 6)

  Always the Rival (Book 7)

  Always the Matchmaker (Book 8)

  Always the Widow (Book 9)

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Publisher’s Note

  Additional Dragonblade books by Author Emily E K Murdoch

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Epilogue

  About Emily E K Murdoch

  Chapter One

  Try as she might, Elizabeth Howard could not stop from shaking as she entered Lenskeyn House. The memories…they were painful. Five years had passed since she entered this house as a new bride, but the remembrance of that day seared her mind.

  It was almost as though she had traveled back in time. Today, as that day had been, the house was decorated for a wedding.

  She had been so happy, arriving on the arm of her new husband—Lord Elmore Howard, younger brother of the Earl of Lenskeyn. She had been so proud, so honored to be chosen.

  Before she had known his true nature.

  Elizabeth shivered as she passed the threshold into the great hall, which was packed with society’s peers. None noticed her nervous entrance, her black mourning gown simple and unadorned. They were too busy laughing with the happy couple: Albemarle Howard, the Earl of Lenskeyn, and Miss Theodosia Ashbrooke—the Countess of Lenskeyn as she was now. Elizabeth watched them greet guests and swallowed down her pain.

  Coming back to this place had been a mistake. Too many of her nightmares were here…and now Elmore was dead four weeks. It was almost a pretty house, really.

  If only she could forget the man she had married.

  He is gone, she told herself silently as she moved to the edge of the room to avoid notice. She was free.

  Almost. Just one last duty to perform, and then she could leave the Howard family behind and mourn quietly at home.

  “Congratulations!”

  Another gentleman approached the happy couple with a hearty handshake for her brother-in-law. Elizabeth watched the bride and groom as they beamed at their guests, never once leaving each other’s sides.

  A wistful smile crept over her face, despite her nerves. Albemarle and Theodosia looked far happier than she had ever felt in her five years of marriage. It was a mystery how others managed to find someone so compatible with them.

  Her smile faded. But then, she had thought Elmore perfect when she had first married him.

  The wooden box in her hands grew heavier as her thoughts turned dark, but it was nothing to the weight of her heart.

  A wedding, Elizabeth thought wryly. It should be the happiest place in the world. Was it widows who were bad luck at a wedding or babies?

  Not that she could have brought the latter, she thought darkly. Five years of marriage and no child. It was cruel, the hand Fate had dealt her.

  But now, she was almost free of the Howard family, free of her clinging, irritating mother-in-law, free of the brother-in-law who had never paid her any attention, and free of the new sister-in-law who would undoubtedly be more of the same.

  She shifted the wooden box in her arms, and guilt seared through her heart once more. Elizabeth pushed it aside firmly. She had done what she had needed to do. She just had to get it over with, and then she could leave.

  But despite her best intentions, it was another twenty minutes or so before Albemarle and Theodosia were unencumbered with guests. Elizabeth watched them, her curiosity growing as she observed more of them.

  Albemarle, the elder brother, had lived abroad for the entirety of her foolish marriage to Elmore. He had not even returned for their wedding, something his mother, the dowager countess, had taken as a personal insult.

  Elizabeth had hardly cared. She had been so focused on Elmore, she had barely noticed who else was at their wedding.

  As though her thoughts could attract his attention, Albemarle turned and spotted her. Muttering something to his new bride, the pair of them started to approach her.

  Elizabeth swallowed. She knew Theodosia, of course, had even had her over to tea a week or so ago with some other ladies of the ton—but it had been a mere formality. They were not intimate.

  Why, only a week ago, she had been society’s matchmaker, and now she was a countess and her sister-in-law.

  Theodosia was a witty woman. She would realize the truth. She would announce it to the world, here, at Lenskeyn House, and Elizabeth would be ruined.

  “Lady Howard,” Albemarle said in a quiet voice.

&nbsp
; Elizabeth tried her best to smile. “Congratulations on your marriage, your lordship, Lady Howard.”

  “We are honored that you came,” said Theodosia in a low voice like her husband.

  Elizabeth nodded. The sooner she got these words out, the sooner this would all be over. “I wanted to. And I also wanted to…to give you this.”

  The damned wooden box, the secret she had been carrying for years, had never felt so heavy, but she managed to place it into Theodosia’s hands. There. It was done. It was gone, and she would never have to look at the damned thing again.

  Theodosia looked curious and lifted up the lid. The sunlight pouring into the great hall hit the pile of jewels within the box: diamonds, emeralds, pearls, the Lenskeyn brooch…

  Theodosia gasped and looked at her husband, but he had not taken his eyes from Elizabeth.

  “The Lenskeyn family jewels,” he said with a knowing smile.

  It was now, Elizabeth knew that she could be unmasked—but all she had to do was stay calm. If she acted as though this was all normal, with no hidden secret, then they would never suspect.

  If only her heart would listen to reason. It was fluttering frantically, sure they would notice what was wrong.

  She nodded as calmly as she could. “They are yours now. They belong, rightfully, to the Countess of Lenskeyn.”

  “But they are yours by right,” Albemarle said reasonably. “My brother Elmore gave them to you, and you should keep them.”

  His wife agreed. Shutting the lid firmly, she tried to place the box back into Elizabeth’s hands, but she would have none of it. The damned things were gone, and she would never accept them back. They told too many sorry tales of lies and deceit for her to be happy to have them back.

  Remnants of Elmore’s gambling and money lending, she would never touch them again. Perhaps Theodosia, without knowing their true history, would be able to enjoy them.

  “I would really rather you keep them,” Elizabeth said, trying not to sound too forceful. “Elmore died over a month ago, and…well. They belong to your family. I was only borrowing them, really.”

  Squeezing Theodosia’s arm in what she hoped would be considered sisterly affection, Elizabeth forced her feet away from the happy couple.

  Behind her, she heard a footmen mutter, “May I take that for you, your ladyship?”

  “What—oh, yes. Please put them in a safe place, and I will consider what to do with them later,” came Theodosia’s voice. “Albie, we should have Lady Howard—Elizabeth, isn’t it? We should have Elizabeth stay with us.”

  Elizabeth colored. She did not want their pitying remarks, hated their discomfort at her own loss. Loss? Elmore’s death was no loss.

  “Family is important,” she heard Albemarle reply. “We should not let her be on her own, not at the moment.”

  Elizabeth almost laughed as she entered the drawing room. Alone? She had been alone these five years, and her heart hardened as she thought back to all she had done. After her actions, she did not deserve the pity of the Howards. They saw her as an object of misery because she was a widow, but what had she done as a Howard? Betrayed their trust, betrayed the whole family.

  They would never know, naturally, but she did. She would have to live with what she had done for the rest of her life. As long as the dowager countess never found out…

  The room was heaving with society’s finest, all laughing and drinking, toasting the happy couple and teasing young ladies about when it would be their time.

  There was no place for her here. Elizabeth walked slowly around the edge of the room, and anyone she looked at turned away. She would have taken it amiss if she had not been wearing widow’s weeds.

  No one likes to talk to the widow at a wedding.

  Elizabeth’s stomach swooped painfully, and a wave of nausea washed over her. She steadied herself by placing a hand on the wall and looked around for a seat, but all were taken.

  Her guilt only increased. It was like a sort of punishment, but then she could not complain. Not after wanting it for so long—not after the miracle which had been handed to her.

  Walking through the doorway into the ballroom, music reached her ears along with the laughter of four dancing couples. Elizabeth saw Mrs. Lymington, a woman who had attended her tea party just a week ago, watching the dance.

  “Mrs. Lymington,” she said as warmly as she could.

  But her warmth was not reciprocated. Mrs. Lymington stared, her nose wrinkling as though she had just smelled something that had died, and she walked away without saying a word.

  Elizabeth’s cheeks burned as she glanced around to see whether anyone else had spotted this discourtesy.

  Society’s rules stated clearly that widows should not attend weddings, but she had been hard-pressed to say no. It was her late husband’s brother, after all, and more importantly, the head of the Howard house.

  Well, 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 what I have done.”

  But her words had no soothing effect on her companion.

  “Oh, there is Mrs. Chesworth—do excuse me. Mrs. Chesworth needs me,” Mrs. Marnion said with a sweet smile as she began walking away.

  Elizabeth glanced over at the other side of the room. Mrs. Chesworth was nowhere to be seen.

  It had been too much to hope that she would enjoy the wedding. Elizabeth had known it, known it the minute the hastily scrawled invitation had arrived in the second post two days ago, but she had hoped for better.

  The box had to be brought, after all. Her shoulders felt ten times lighter now that the damned jewelry was off her hands. Now all she had to do was hope that Theodosia never took them to be valued…

  Light conversation. That was all she had hoped for, and to see Albemarle, her late husband’s older brother. They had only met a handful of times, and if he was truly going to settle in England, it would be nice to know him.