Later that night

“Ooph.” Lilly landed face down on the mulchy ground with a child’s sticky hand, smelling of jam tart, covering her mouth and nose. In the corner of her eye, threads of golden blond hair flashed in the moonlight, revealing the identity of her attacker. Her eldest son was now perched on her lower back.

“Alexander! Why aren’t you abed?”

“Shh.” Alexander’s warm breath tickled her ear. His voice was full of breathless urgency. “They’re right over the hedge.” He leaned forward to peer through the low-hanging foliage, forcing Lilly’s head down into the humus covered forest floor, and filling her nose with the odor of earthy decay.

“Ahh-woo-woooo.” The owl’s night call slithered down her spine. She shivered.

“Oh, Ned,” the woman on the other side of the hedge purred.

Ned? My brother-in-law Ned?

Wet smacking lips.

“Blek,” Alexander muttered.

Lilly clenched her fists. Blast! Her pasty-faced, pudgy brother-in-law was having an assignation with a kitchen maid, no doubt. Of all the humiliating things to happen now. Why me, Lord?

“Gawd, Clarissa, you have the most divine bosom,” Ned said.

Giggles. “Your tongue tickles.”

For God’s sake…

This was beyond enduring. When she’d awoken this morning, Lilly had been a soldier’s wife. Then she’d been summoned to the main house and her father-in-law had informed her, with tears in his eyes, that her husband Jack was dead. Now she was a soldier’s widow—had been one for six months.

It was hard to fathom that in one moment she had believed Jack

was alive and in Canada, and in the next moment had all that taken away. She loved Jack. And he loved her. How could she not have known he was no longer among the living. How?

Her grief had left her sleepless. She’d left the dower house for a quiet walk. The darkness had enveloped her, soothed her, and set her imagination free. She’d pictured Jack’s handsome face; his arms holding her against his chest. But now, here she was lying in the dirt, forced to listen to her brother-in-law fornicating with…with…Clarissa? Lady Clarissa? The young wife of her in-laws-elderly-neighbor-Clarissa?

Good grief! As Lilly’s harsh thoughts about Clarissa’s adultery sped through her mind, Lilly heard her mother whispering in her ear: The Talmud teaches the highest form of wisdom is kindness.

But Mama, Lilly’s mind answered back, it is so difficult to be wise, when others are being so repugnantly stupid. She thought she heard her mother’s chuckle.

A wishful thought…to hear her mother’s voice again. She sighed. Her parents and siblings had been dead for more than ten years, struck down by typhus, and now Jack. Why were those she loved always leaving her? Lilly dropped her head, burying her nose in her elbow, muffling the sound of her sob.

Alexander patted her shoulder, just the way she did when comforting him, or his brothers.

Lilly’s throat ached as she wiped her tears on her sleeve.

Alexander pecked her cheek and rolled off her back. He pressed his lips to her ear. “We need to hide until they leave.”

He was right. The last thing she needed was to be caught and accused of spying on her husband’s philandering younger brother.

Lilly shoved her skirts aside, got her feet under her. Alexander and Lilly sat side by side, between the roots of an enormous old oak, their backs pressed against its trunk. The ground beneath them was damp with dew, and the night air chilly.

Alexander shivered.

She pulled him close, and wrapped her shawl covered arms around him. She pressed her lips to the top of his head, and smelled jam tart again.

“Turn around,” Ned demanded. “Bend over, and brace those devilishly clever hands of yours on this tree.”

“Here?” Clarissa sounded put out. “I don’t think so.”

“Come on, I’m primed and ready,” Ned said. “And I know you want me. You always do.”

Lilly smelled Clarissa’s cloying perfume; they must be very close indeed.

Alexander pulled, to break out of her hold.

Lilly tightened her arms around him.

“Just wants a peek,” Alexander muttered.

Lilly put her mouth to his ear and whispered her reply. “Not on your life. What they’re doing is wrong.”

Alexander tugged harder to get away.

Lilly grabbed Alexander’s hair, near his scalp, and pulled his head around so they were nose to nose. “Desist. I’m your mother.” The implication being she knew what she was doing, which was absurd. This situation was positively farcical. She was doing as she always did when her life took an unexpected turn—improvising and praying for divine intervention.

“Did you hear something?” Clarissa asked.

Lilly and Alexander froze.

Lilly held her breath.

A long pause.

“Some night creature, no doubt,” Ned said. “Come along now, no more dawdling.”

Alexander relaxed in her arms.

The rustle of skirts and petticoats.

“Spread your legs a bit more,” Ned said. “My, what a lovely piece you are. So round. So firm.” The sound of a hard smack as an open hand struck bare flesh.

“Ow, that hurt,” Clarissa said.

“Ready or not, here I come,” Ned grunted, then he sighed. “You’re as tight as a bloody virgin in there.”

“Well, I’m not. And you damn well know it too, Edward Lampton,” Clarissa grunted.

Panting from him.

Panting from her.

“Faster,” Clarissa demanded. “Oh-oh-oh.”

Lilly tipped her head back. Help me, Lord. Please help me. Through the leafy canopy she focused her attention on the moon, distracting herself with its stately soft white serenity, as it reclined in the dark, quiet heavens, unperturbed by her broken heart.

Panting.

Clarissa gasped.

Then a grunt of release, followed by a deep male sigh of satisfaction.

Their breathing slowed.

“Lor’, that be one limp pud.” Alexander choked back a laugh.

Lilly startled. Her head had been resting on her up-drawn legs, and her arms now circled her shins. When had she let go of Alexander?

He was on his knees beside her, peeking through a hole in the shrubbery. Lilly grabbed her son’s arm and yanked him down beside her. “A gentleman does not say such things.”

“Ned, give me your handkerchief.” Clarissa said.

“Whatever for?” Ned said.

“Just hand it here,” Clarissa said.

The sound of rustling silk skirts and petticoats.

“Hurry up,” Ned said. “Wouldn’t want my mother to send someone out to look for us.”

“Your mother?” Clarissa said.

“Since we heard about Jack this morning, she hasn’t wanted me out of her sight for more than five minutes. Damn tedious, I tell you.”

“Well, you can’t blame her, can you? I mean, the poor woman can’t seem to hold on to her grown sons, now can she?” Clarissa said then snorted with laughter.

“I suppose not,” Ned said, joining in on her laughter.

Why are they laughing?

“I mean, first my eldest brother’s carriage accidentally overturns, and now Jack does the convenient thing, and gets himself offed during the Siege of Detroit. Who would have thought the Lord Almighty would provide me with such timely assistance?”

Timely assistance? What does that mean?

“Alexander, Little John, and Toby are the only things standing in your way now,” Clarissa said.

“You forget, ‘tis only Little Johnny and Toby.”

Clarissa’s tone was anything but sincere. “I forgot that Alexander ain’t his, is he? Maybe he’s Jack’s bastard—either way he can’t inherit, can he. Poor dear.”

“No, he can’t.”

Lilly shivered. Was Ned saying he caused Gerome’s death?

“Don’t be so hard on yer poor mother,” Clarissa purred. “Now there’s only you.”

 Ned’s laugh was wicked. “I know.”

“Be patient, Neddy. First the boys—and then we’ll take care of my husband.”

“Pishaw. Easy for you to say. On top of Mother’s tears now, Father’s blaming himself for introducing Jack to that nincompoop, General Brock. Christ, how does one win a siege, and then manage to get himself and his adjutant killed? Must be some sort of military genius, eh.” Ned made a derisive snort. “All the weeping and hand-wringing is giving me the megrains, I tell you.”

“It will all work out just as we planned,” Clarissa said.

Anger and terror shot through Lilly. She felt an intense heat, followed by a deadly chill.

“Come along,” Ned said as he took Clarrisa’s arm and steered her back up the garden path, toward the house. “Very soon…I shall send Jack’s brats, just like I sent Gerome, to his heavenly reward”—his laugh was wicked—“because there’s no one left to stop me.”