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Five years later
"I don't think they are coming," Miles said as he looked down the driveway to the small parish church close to his country estate.
"There's still time," Alicia said and placed a hand on his arm. He looked at it before meeting her eyes. She was holding their infant son on the other arm. Their plan had been that Miles’s mother should carry him – if she showed up. Otherwise, Alicia's mother would.
But whenever his mother-in-law tried to hold her new grandson, he would wail as if she was trying to kill him. Only Alicia could make him calm down when he went into a frenzy like that.
"There's no need for you to defend them," Miles said as he looked at the driveway again.
He hadn't seen his sisters or mother since he had married Alicia five years ago. They had each felt that it would threaten their station in society to be associated with him.
Two of his brothers-in-law were also in the House of Lords, and he would see them on the rare occasions when he ventured to the capital to vote on a particularly important matter. His brothers-in-law would never give him the cut directly, but it was clear that they preferred not to be seen talking to him in public. They would, however, stop by his office in Parliament, usually carrying gifts from their wives to his daughters.
Edwina was four and a half now, and Augusta two. Edwina's birth six months into their marriage would have been scandalizing enough, but of course Alicia's background as a courtesan was even worse.
"I wasn't trying to defend your mother or sisters. I was merely stating that there is still time," Alicia said as she stroked Jack's back.
Like the last five generations of Stanhope heirs, his first name would be George, but they had decided his middle name would be John after Alicia's father, Jack as a pet name.
"I swear I'll renounce the title and leave the country if they don't show up," Miles announced and walked toward the entrance of the church, the gravel crunching under his boots.
"I know; you've said so countless times," Alicia said. Miles turned and saw that she was still patting Jack's back.
Edwina and Augusta came running screaming around the corner of the church, their nanny chasing after them. Normally they would have left the children at home when they went to church, but since his mother and sisters might show up, Miles had wanted to bring them. They hadn't met them yet.
"Girls, be quiet or you’ll wake your brother,” Miles half-shouted, half-whispered, if it was even possible.
They didn’t turn their volume down, but Edwina, who was clearly leading the game, turned around and ran back around the corner, Augusta gleefully chasing her. Their not-so-gleeful nanny followed.
Miles met Alicia's eyes and they sent each other a knowing smile. He walked to stand beside her again, putting his arm loosely around her waist. They were in public after all.
These four. They were all he needed. They were happy staying in the country, just their family. Even if they could have wished it differently, they probably wouldn't. But that they had had no choice was annoying him. And as the girls grew up, Miles started to worry for their future. What would become of them if even their own family wouldn't acknowledge them?
And Jack? He was to be the next earl, but if he, too, was going to be ostracized from society for his parents' sins . . . then they would be better off in America. No one there would care about their scandal.
They had spent the last five years building a fortune that was theirs and not belonged to the earldom. Miles had never had his own money and had never felt the need. He had always known that he would be the next earl and if he wasn’t, he would be dead — and then money wouldn't matter. But if he gave up the title, he would need his own funds.
He had started breeding thoroughbred horses, and even though people of the ton didn't want to talk to him, would ignore him if they met him, they apparently didn't object to buying his horses. Several of the young men of the ton even saw it as a good way to defy and outrage their parents. Miles didn’t care. As long as they treated the horses well, he couldn’t ask for anything else.
Alicia had also contributed to their independent fortune. Of course, she had the rent from her London townhouse, but she and Martha had also spent the last five years writing three books with advice on bedroom-related problems. They were published anonymously, although Miles had an inkling that many knew she was behind it. They differed in sobriety, the most sober could be sold in the bookstores whereas the other two were sold through Jemima’s former brothel, Aphrodite’s Retreat, that she had sold when she married.
Mrs. Ramsbury had died three years ago, making room for a new Mrs. Ramsbury as soon as Mr. Ramsbury was out of mourning. They didn't seem to encounter nearly as many problems as he and Alicia. Miles suspected that the world was simply more forgiving of shipyard owners who didn't abide by the rules than they were of earls.
Mr. and Mrs. Ramsbury were now waiting in the church with their now six children, along with Alicia's mother.
Alicia had suggested that he write a book as well.
“It could be titled ‘An Impotent Rake’,” she would tease him.
But Miles didn’t want to write a book. What had happened between them was private. He wasn’t even sure that he would tell their children the whole story. His impotence had never been fully cured. Most times it would work, but sometimes it wouldn’t. He had come to learn not to stress over it.
A crunch in the gravel behind them made them turn. The vicar, a young man who was luckily not against their marriage, cleared his throat before he approached them.
"Your lordship, your ladyship, might we begin?" he asked.
Miles clenched his jaw and nodded.
"Do you think we will be happy in America?" Alicia whispered as she slid her free arm through his and they proceeded into the church.
"We will be happy anywhere as long as we are together," Miles whispered back.
Alicia squeezed his arm and looked up at him with a slight smile on her lips and a warm gaze in her eyes. Miles returned it.
She would never ask him whether he regretted marrying her, but she would sometimes have a concerned look on her face that clearly told him this was what she was thinking. He would always take her into his arms and assure her that he had never for one minute regretted his decision to marry her. And he hadn’t. He only wished that his family would meet her and their children.
The verger was about to close the door to the church behind them when they heard a carriage on the gravel outside. Both he and Alicia turned to look at the door. It was a carriage with the crest of his youngest sister's husband. Miles’s brother-in-law stepped out first, then helped his wife out and after that, Miles' mother.
Miles felt a stone fall from his heart even though his mother had a rather stern look on her face.
"I suppose I'm the one who will be holding the child, being his paternal grandmother," she said without a greeting, reaching out to take the sleeping child from Alicia.
"He can be rather fussy around strangers," Alicia said as she gently placed the child in his mother's arms.
"Oh, nonsense, I'm his grandmother; he will be fine," she said as she looked at the child in her arms. And to Miles’ astonishment, Jack did not make a peep, even though he opened his eyes for a moment to see who he had been transferred to.
"He looks exactly like you," she then said in a soft voice and looked at Miles with watery eyes. Miles smiled at her, then at his sister, who was standing behind her.
"I'm glad you came," he said, his voice hoarse and he had to clear his throat.
"Yes, well, I don't know what this nonsense is about the two of you emigrating, but we certainly had to stop it." His mother's voice was back to its stern register. Nevertheless, Miles could not help but smile.
Delighted screams outside told him that his daughters were close by. The moment after, Edwina and Augusta stood in the doorway, both of them stopped abruptly upon seeing the unfamiliar people.
"Girls, come inside," Miles said, stepping toward them and taking their hands. "There are some people I'd like you to meet. This is your grandmother, and your aunt and uncle."
Augusta hid behind his leg and Miles picked her up to comfort her. Edwina, however, stood facing his mother, looking curiously at her.
"We both have blue eyes, but my parents and my sister have brown eyes," she told his mother.
Edwina had the same icy blue eyes as his mother. Sometimes she would look at him with a stern expression and Miles felt as if his mother was looking straight at him.
It took a moment for his mother to answer, and Miles was about to step between them to protect his daughter, but then his mother said in the softest voice he had ever heard her use:
"That we do."
She turned to look at first Miles, then Alicia.
"You have done well," she said. "Now," she turned her gaze to Edwina, "Would you like to hold my hand as I walk up the aisle with your brother?"
Edwina nodded and took her free hand.
"Remember, his name is Jack," she said as she and his mother started walking up the aisle.
"Jack?" his mother asked, bewildered.
"George John Stanhope," Edwina explained. "But we call him Jack."
"Jack," his mother repeated again, but did not comment on it.
Miles followed with Augusta on his arm and Alicia holding the elbow of the other.
"Looks like we don't have to emigrate after all," Alicia whispered, beaming at him.
"No, thank . . ." He stopped himself before he blasphemed in a church, but right now, it almost felt like divine intervention that his mother had shown up and so readily accepted his family.
“If we were not in a church right now, I would kiss you,” he mumbled.
“Well, you will just have to do that later — and most thoroughly,” his wife sent him a wicked smile as she entered the pew closest to the altar.
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Thank you for reading An Impotent Rake. If you liked the book, please rate it, or leave a review, it would mean the world to me as an indie author.
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Want a free book? By signing up for my newsletter you will receive a free copy of my book Winter Hearts. The couple featured Caroline and Hugh Winterbottom are mentioned briefly as some of Alicia’s clients. Find out how the two met each other during a blizzard when Caroline felt she had no choice but to prostitute herself to have a warm bed for the night. Luckily, it was Hugh’s bed that she ended in.