Lady Gone Wicked (Wicked Secrets)(14)

“We don’t have a cousin,” Alice said, ever practical.

“My point,” their mother continued, sparing a glare for her, “is that Adelaide must marry before her trouble catches up to us.”

Her trouble.

That was what bastards were, weren’t they? Unwanted, bothersome creatures that threatened the sanctity of society. The Foundling Hospital in London was where most such babes would be brought, unless they stayed with their fallen mothers. When they reached the age of five or six, those children would be put to work. Boys went to factories or became chimney sweeps; girls were scullery maids. London was full of such unfortunates, their eyes too big for their faces, always full of hunger.

But perhaps not every woman could leave her baby to such a terrible fate. Perhaps, instead, she would look to the villages far away from the gray air that draped over London like a widow’s veil. Perhaps that woman would find herself in a village far from home and learn to trust the generosity of a stranger. And perhaps, if such a stranger had very kind eyes, a woman with few other options might leave her son in that stranger’s care.

Surely, surely, such a baby would be cared for. He would be given thick, warm blankets to protect him from the chill and rain. His face and hands would be scrubbed clean instead of caked in soot and ash. His breakfast would be porridge and there would always be enough to eat at supper. And if he sometimes cried out in the dark night for the mama who had left him behind, one day he would understand how truly fortunate he was to have escaped a life that could only be misery.

He would be glad to have escaped his mother’s wicked trouble.

So Adelaide told herself each night as she tried to fall asleep.

So she told herself now, eating her scone as though her heart and soul were not weighted down with guilt.

Oh, yes, she had been very wicked, indeed.





Chapter Twelve


Selecting a husband for one’s former lover was a rather formidable task. But since Adelaide was clearly more interested in books than husbands and did not care if the man was a rake or old, so long as he left her to her novels, it fell to Nick to develop more substantive criteria.

But what qualities should a husband possess? Was it not enough to provide a home and a name? What more could a woman possibly want? Yet he knew Adelaide did want more, because he had offered her both those things, and it had not been enough. She would have married him given no other choice, but clearly she preferred not to.

Nevertheless, he took out a sheet of paper and wrote money and good name in heavy black scrawl. She was in need of a certain standard in a husband, and one of them, at least, needed to keep the practicalities in mind. It wouldn’t be Adelaide, of course. She was far too romantic for that.

What else? A handsome countenance would not be amiss. Women were always making themselves ridiculous over a handsome face—witness the titters and hand flutters every time Wessex entered a room.

Handsome, he wrote. Although perhaps it would be best if the man were not too handsome. When their families intertwined, it was reasonable to expect that they would see rather a lot of each other. Imagine Adelaide always following her husband like a lovesick puppy, the way Nate followed Alice.

No.

He wanted Adelaide to be happy with her husband, but witnessing her adoration of another man would be…unpleasant.

He added the word enough after handsome.

Perhaps a military man? Adelaide had seemed to enjoy Colonel Kent’s attentions. She must have an officer, of course. Nothing lower than a major would do. Although…Nick had attained the rank of colonel himself before being assigned to more secretive work. He wouldn’t like to be outranked.

He dipped the quill into the ink pot and added it to the list.

Then he paused again. He read over his list. As a whole, it added up to a decent fellow. But none of the characteristics he had chosen would necessarily make for a pleasant marriage. The man she married must also be kind and generous. He must be well-read, of course, but supportive of her desire to read, as well. She must have access to all the books she wished. He must let her visit her family as often as she liked, and never show any untoward jealousy.

In short, the man must like her, very much.

He considered his list. And added another item.

“What are you writing?” Nathaniel asked from the doorway.

Nick grimaced. This was what came of simple living. If he had hired a valet, there would have been someone to bolt the door and bar his brother from entry. He would remedy his error posthaste.

“Nothing that concerns you.” He placed the paper aside for the ink to dry.

“Ah! The very thing that interests me the most.” Nathaniel snatched up the paper, leaping away when Nick tried to grab it back.

Not for the first time, he wondered what his life would have been like had he been born an only child instead of part of a matched set.

“Money. Good name,” his brother read aloud. His brow furrowed. “What is this?”

“Qualifications for a husband.”

Nathaniel looked understandably confused. “Whose husband?”

“Adelaide’s.”

“Kind, generous,” Nathaniel read. His eyebrows arched above the paper. “You are not either of those things.”

“Which is why she hopes to find a more suitable match. If she doesn’t have an offer by the end of the season, we will wed. Until then, I will continue to court her and she will continue to look elsewhere.”