Page 18 of Jillian’s Wild Heart (Ladies of Munro #4)

L ewis rode to Munro House almost every day.

It was an act of devotion to Jillian, but also a persistent need to escape his mother’s obsession with Philip.

While the entire household was numb with loss—even Lewis and Penelope had felt the strangeness of their brother’s absence, memories surfacing now that held not only bitterness but scatterings of tenderness—the baroness had taken it the hardest. She had sat vigil with his coffin for two days before her husband had demanded she take rest. She had refused.

The doctor had to be called to administer a sedative so that she could be carried to her bed.

Never in all Lewis’s adult years had their mother taken breakfast with them, always complaining about the morning chill upon her bones.

But she sat beside the body of her firstborn right through the night, without a word of the discomfort she must have been suffering.

On Friday, she awoke to find the coffin gone.

Lord Bradford had sent for the undertaker to collect and keep the remains until the day of the funeral to force his wife to sleep at night.

Instead, she wandered the hallways like a restless spirit with nothing on which to focus her attention or help her sleep. Another doctor’s visit. More sedation.

And then, on Sunday, she rose and called for her lady’s maid, who dressed her with care so that she might look her best for the funeral service. Then she sent for Lewis and received him with a straight back and clipped tones that were reminiscent of the stern matriarch she had always been.

“It occurs to me,” she said, “that Miss Kinsey may have planned to attend the service.”

“She has,” answered Lewis, wondering where this was going.

“And that she might intend to be by your side at the cemetery.”

“That is so.”

“You will tell her it is out of the question.”

Lewis stiffened. “And why is that?”

“I do not want her there.”

“But I do.”

“You will do this for me. I want no distraction when I lay my firstborn to rest. There is no knowing what Miss Kinsey will do at such a solemn occasion. She is unaccustomed to it. This is not the time or place for country manners. I will have dignity at Philip’s graveside. I want to grieve in peace.”

“And who will support me in my grief?”

Lady Bradford pinned her son with a savage gaze. “I hardly know that you feel any.”

Lewis jerked his head up at his mother’s harsh words, ready to defend himself, only to find her eyes pooled with sorrow. His hackles subsided.

“No one can feel the same pain as a mother who’s lost a child,” he said, and meant it. “That does not imply that I feel nothing . You have Father to comfort you. I would like similar support.”

“Your sister can play that role. For now.”

“I would prefer the comfort of my intended.”

“And you shall have it. But it will not be Miss Kinsey.”

An increasingly familiar surge of outrage rose in Lewis’s throat. “You are wrong, Mother,” he said through tight lips.

Lady Bradford continued, unbothered by his response or the tone of it. “It was bad enough when you considered her a suitable bride for a second son, but it is quite impossible now that you bear the future of the barony on your shoulders. You will give serious thought to Miss Sangford.”

“What about her?” Lewis was genuinely confused.

“Philip was on the cusp of proposing to her. Our families are well acquainted with each other. I believe she would be amenable to the suggestion.”

“What suggestion? I don’t follow your meaning.”

Lady Bradford pinned him with a stern look. “Don’t be obtuse, Lewis. I mean for you to propose to her, obviously.”

In spite of the insult of the notion, Lewis gave a burst of laughter. “You cannot be serious!”

“But I am.” His mother continued the discussion as if she were making the simplest of arrangements. “She was perfect for Philip and will be for you. It will ease her disappointment in losing Philip and save you having to search for a bride.”

“‘Dis… Disappointment ’?” Lewis spluttered. “You think that is an apt description for her losing the man who would likely have married her?”

“Well, I’m not convinced they were in love. But they were well matched. And she expected to marry our heir. As far as that goes, she still can. And she would know how to play the role to perfection.”

Lewis stared at his mother. He could hardly find the words. His mouth hung open and he blinked several times before saying. “It may have escaped your notice, Mother, but I am already engaged.”

Lady Bradford waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, no one can take that betrothal seriously. It will be seen as a temporary madness—one quickly remedied by the better choice of Miss Sangford. Not only will your judgment be restored in the public eye, but the bringing of Miss Sangford into our fold will make perfect sense in view of the loss of Philip.”

“It doesn’t to me!” Lewis all but shouted.

His mother folded her hands in her lap. “Come now, my son, you are going to have a position of great importance. Miss Kinsey cannot possibly contribute to your public image, which will now be paramount.”

Ah, yes. Now he was important. He, who was as nothing before.

Still, he did not feel it was he who carried a sense of worth.

He was merely a stand-in for Philip, fulfilling his role, his dreams. He was as good as rebaptized into the name and position that had belonged to Philip.

Lewis was being all but absorbed into the life that had belonged to his brother.

It was as if his parents did not see him anymore, but Philip reincarnate.

Despite his new rank and privilege, he felt more invisible than ever before.

But he was not as impotent as they might have thought. Their desperation to bestow on him the status of heir gave him power he had not had before. Since they demanded he claim it, he would show them that he knew how to wield it.

“I have no intention of proposing to Miss Sangford, though I will offer her my sincere condolences. I am marrying Miss Kinsey. And that is the end of it. Feel free to disown me. I can make my own way. I don’t need your money.

I have no need of your title. And I have had enough years of being in Philip’s shadow that I am accustomed to having no real relationship with you.

Do your worst. But you will not shake me from my purpose.

And if Miss Kinsey may not attend the funeral, then neither shall I.

Society’s opinion be damned. If they think something is amiss, they will simply have picked up on the truth.

Now, make up your mind, Mother, and do it quickly.

Do I fetch Miss Kinsey to join us? Or do I collect my belongings and leave? ”

Lady Bradford glared at him. Lewis glared back. Her head vibrated slightly, as if she were about to burst with indignation. Then, all of a sudden, she twisted her face to the side and glared at the floor instead.

“Very well,” she said.

“Very well what ?” Lewis wanted to know.

Her gaze remained on the floor. “Very well, I will not speak of Miss Kinsey’s presence again. You may do as you wish.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

Lewis stood to leave. His mother raised her sight to him. It contained little by way of love, but Lewis was undeterred. He had love enough with Miss Kinsey.

“Will you at least have the wedding in Munro?” she asked.

Lewis hesitated. This might have been an olive branch between them. A consolation for her having given in to his demands.

An image flashed through his memory. Jillian, at dinner, being offered no welcome, no respect.

And another, but a moment ago—his betrothed all but discarded as if she were without worth or feeling.

A wedding in Munro meant countless guests who were just like his parents, tittering and judging and finding his bride lacking.

“No.”

He would offer no quarter. Jillian deserved better.

“You will not even consider it?”

“No.”

His mother seemed to ponder another approach. “It would be a good way to introduce your wife to society. They may get to know her and see…” She paused, as if searching for something positive to say. “The goodness you see in her.”

“Such as?” Lewis would have her say it. Anything good about Jillian. If she could get it past her lips, there was hope.

“I, er… She is…young enough to mold.”

Lewis straightened his back. “I see. I think we have established that Munro society is not ready for her. I will not have the wedding day spoiled by the many who think as you do.”

“They will still think it once you are married,” his mother pointed out.

“When she has had time to acclimatize to her new position, we will begin our introduction to a select few. The rest can think and do as they wish.”

Lady Bradford could hold back no longer. “But your position! One day, you will be lord of this estate. What does Miss Kinsey know of running a home of this size? Or hosting a ball?”

Lewis smiled wryly and shook his head. “Has it occurred to you that you might teach her? You could take her under your wing. You could guide her with kindness to be capable of all these tasks. Instead, you reject her at every turn, ensuring her failure. And for what? So that you can say, ‘I told you so’?”

Lady Bradford threw a disbelieving palm into the air. “I will teach her if she will listen.”

“But will you be kind? She is not used to the chilly instruction we have received.”

Lady Bradford’s voice rose. “And what does she give in return? Does she bring her country ways? I hear she visits the kitchen in Munro House to chat ! Will she allow herself to be taught? Or will she turn our ancient and noble home into an oversized farmhouse?”

“We can always live elsewhere,” he warned. “In fact, there is a lovely house I have had my eye on…”

“Lewis Bradford! You will draw the line at how you shame this family!”

Lewis bit his tongue. His mother had reached her limit.

“Perhaps, then, as a compromise, we will stay in the summer cottage by the lake,” he suggested.

“Until such time as you feel my wife is worthy of the great house. It will be an easier transition for Jillian and you both. We will join you for Sunday family dinners and she can come to the house and see how you manage it as often as you are both comfortable doing so. We will still be on the grounds, with room enough for everyone to breathe.”

Lady Bradford was quiet for some time. Then she rose, the rustling of her black skirt the only sound in the hard silence between them.

“You have shown me where your loyalty lies. I must now bury the son who did right by me. And then I will remain in mourning. You clearly do not feel the loss of your brother, so you must do as you wish. Marry Miss Kinsey. Take her to Ermenbrough, or the moon, for all I care. We will not be attending your nuptials. I shall not be staying in some village inn to watch you degrade yourself. When you return, the summer cottage will be ready for you with a complement of servants. Now, you will excuse me. You have made this day harder in every possible way, and I need a minute to gather myself. Some of us still wish to maintain a dignified air.”

Her gown swept about her feet as she departed the room.

Then the air was still once more. Lewis took a step toward the door and halted.

His mother was wrong. She was wrong about so many things.

He did mourn the loss of his brother. But he had been mourning it for years.

He would have loved a closer bond with Philip, but his brother had been placed on such a high pedestal that Lewis could never reach him. Now the chance was lost forever.

As for the privileges of the firstborn, Lewis had taught himself not to think about them.

It would have been unhealthy to crave things he believed he would never have.

Now that they were his to claim, he might have done so with great gusto.

There was much about the running of the estate he had wanted to suggest to his father but had never felt he could.

Now they could work side by side to further the interests of the Bradford family.

He would not need to spend long hours poring over thick volumes of law.

It had been a worthwhile occupation when he had had to make his own way, and he would miss elements of it.

But, Lewis admitted to himself, he was grateful that he could now allow himself the luxury of more private pursuits.

Instead, his parents had ostracized Jillian and turned the rights of the heir into a series of demands, some patently ridiculous. Marry Miss Sangford, indeed!

Lewis resumed his steps, quickening his pace at the thought of seeing Jilly.

With her borrowed lady’s maid in attendance.

She was being courted by the heir to a barony, after all. Not long now and a chaperone would no longer be needed…

Lewis felt the first layer of frustration fall away. He pictured Jilly’s full mouth. Her green eyes so often filled with mirth. More of his agitation melted and was gone.

He could feel the tickle of her hair, its thick cascades resting against his cheek as he reached in to kiss her, his hands growing warm upon her bodice.

Lewis was almost running now. How well he understood Jillian’s frequent need to break free and do the same.

When the heart was full, the body likewise was roused with energy.

They were too old now for cartwheels and skipping, but the desire to run and jump and dance surfaced whenever he thought of her.

That, and the more intimate exertion that would follow when she wore his ring…

Jilly would be his, all his. And all he had to do was love her. She had no list of rigid rules for him to follow. She did not ask that which he was unwilling to give. He would not delay the wedding for the sake of his family who had not done the same. If anything, he wanted to marry Jillian sooner.

Today, he was saying farewell to Philip and closing the door to his past. A few weeks hence, when the banns had been called thrice, he and Jilly would be married.

And he would not look back. Nothing would come between them.

Never, never, ever. And the certainty of it grounded him, while his hopes soared ever up to the heavens.