‘Perhaps. But as out of touch as I may be, even you modern women haven’t figured out a way to make babies by yourselves. Don’t you want to be a mother, fill our home with children again?’ Louisa’s voice cracked on the words, sending a familiar ripple of guilt through Verity that she’d been the child to survive, and her brave, brilliant brothers – the rightful heirs of Riverbend – had not.
‘If good men are so scarce, then how on earth do you expect me to find one?’
While Verity knew she wasn’t excessively plain, she’d rather muck out the chicken coop than attempt to flirt and had no idea how to talk to the type of people her mother would deem suitable.
Louisa arched one eyebrow, forefingers gripping her porcelain teacup. ‘Simple, we’ll do it the old-fashioned way.’
‘What, are you going to arrange a dowry, attract the local gentry with the promise of three good horses and ten acres of cabbage?’
‘No, my darling. We’re going to have a party.’ She lifted her chin. ‘Sherwood’s finest, most fabulous party since Robin wed Marian.’
And that was that. Louisa temporarily set aside her mourning and plunged into party preparation as if the lives of her unborn grandchildren depended on it, and once Verity’s initial resistance had crumbled, she joined her mother with all the gumption of a girl who’d never been kissed.
News soon buzzed through Sherwood Forest that Riverbend was planning a grand ball, with the sole intention of finding Verity Hood a husband and, like a reversedCinderella, single men of all ages from far and wide were invited. Louisa had to reiterate that there was, in fact, a strict guest-list, although Middlebeck villagers were all welcome. This local girl hadn’t forgotten where she and Cornelius came from before Millicent Hatherstone’s outrageously generous wedding gift. The village responded in kind, ensuring the Riverbend Ball would be as elegant and enchanting as if rationing or the ravages of war had failed to penetrate the heart of the forest. For days prior to the party, people trooped down the lane bearing barrels of beer, crates of apples and three of Jack Pollard’s prize hogs, ready for roasting.
Louisa hired several girls and strong youths to help cook, clean and tidy up the grounds. She borrowed chairs and tables to place on the lawn. Verity strung up bunting left over from the VE Day celebrations and they sold one of Cornelius’s cars to pay for a professional swing band.
But in all the frantic back and forth, Louisa never forgot that the glitz and glamour mustn’t detract from the true focus of the night. Like all good mothers, she considered Verity to be the most beautiful young woman a man could wish for. However, she was under no illusions that everyone else could spot this beneath the battered straw hat and patched-up overalls. So, in order to help those attending come around to her point of view, she dug out an old dress that Riverbend’s original owner, Millicent Hatherstone, had stored in one of the attic rooms. Louisa sharpened her scissors and got to work.
The result was stunning. Shocking. Spectacular. While many young women were hoarding their clothing coupons, others repurposing old curtains or the suits their fathers and brothers had grown out of, Verity Hood shone like an emerald in comparison. With most of the rural population still dressed for wartime practicality, Verity’s dress was pure, forest-green silk, with ruffles, ribbons, a full, sweeping skirt and a decadent row of buttons running up to the salacious neckline.
For the first time in her life, Verity felt like a woman. And it showed. Suddenly, she understood the Lumber Jills’ knowing glances and confident bearing. Aware that she was attracting no small amount of attention, she decided that, after everything she’d been through, she might as well enjoy it. Verity pranced and danced. When she found herself catching the eye of the same stranger for the third time, she downed her champagne cocktail and gave him a downright wanton wink.
He was by her side within seconds, introducing himself as Leonard Langford, son of Sir Charles Langford.
‘I hear you’re looking for a husband.’
Verity hid her shock behind a whoop of laughter. ‘I think you’ve mistaken me for my mother.’
‘Darling, your mother was the last thing on my mind when I saw you in that dress.’
‘Oh?’ She ducked her head, cheeks flaming. It was all very well pretending to be forward, but on the inside, she was nothing but fluster.
‘Why is she so keen to marry you off?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘She wants a grandchild to fill each empty bedroom.’
‘How fascinating. I was hoping for five children myself. Will that do it?’
‘It would, but five sounds like a lot of work for the poor soul who ends up their mother.’
‘I’m rich. I can afford help. Leaving you to enjoy the blessings of our offspring, while someone else gets on with the hard work. From what I can gather, you’ve done more than your share already.’
‘Haven’t we all, these days?’ Verity found the courage to throw him a coquettish look. ‘And since when did I become accomplice to your future plans?’
He tipped his head back and guffawed, sending a thrill of pleasure across her bare shoulders, then fixed her with a wry smirk. ‘Since you winked at me across the dance floor, my love. Our fate was sealed. Now, how about you show me around this charming estate of ours?’
Three months later, Middlebeck chapel finally held its first wedding. Verity filled her side of the aisle with villagers and farmers who eyed up Leonard’s smooth hands and slender frame with furrowed brows while across the divide, the Langford family prayed that this strangely capable woman might be enough to hold the attention of such a notoriously charming rogue.
As soon as they’d returned from a brief honeymoon in Rome, Leonard had Verity’s brother, Edgar’s, bedroom converted into a nursery. Louisa had promised she’d be back for the first christening, and the newly-weds eagerly awaited some good news to share.
On their first anniversary, they were still waiting.
‘Not to worry,’ Leonard drawled, having prised Verity away from the fields and whisked her off to lunch at an expensive restaurant in London. ‘We’re still young. Plenty of time, and we might as well enjoy ourselves while we wait.’
Two years later, Verity discovered quite how much Leonard was enjoying himself, when, at the fourth Riverbend Ball, she caught his hand up another woman’s skirt.
And so it went on. Verity channelled her energy into her beloved Riverbend while her husband channelled the profits into revelry, gambling and, she suspected, more mistresses. This included frequent trips away to places that Verity hardly bothered to ask about. Leonard would generally return contrite, with gifts in hand and declarations of how much he’d missed his pretty, independent wife. Verity would pretend to believe his assertions that this time it would be different, he was done with ‘all that’, whatever ‘all that’ was. She ignored the rumours, prayed that he was the one unable to conceive so she never had to deal with the complication of another woman’s child, and poured her affections into this man who still made her laugh like no one else, while captivating her body with one touch.
