She had just reached for the doorknob when she heard voices downstairs.
“You must be Sarah Carter. You will tell me where Victoria is, and you will tell me right now.”
Victoria’s body went rigid. It couldn’t be. Edward Travers III could not be here, in Qu'Appelle, in her aunt’s kitchen. How could he be? There was no one left in England who knew where Sarah lived, or where Victoria had gone. She heard him again. It wasn’t a nightmare. He was here — her “guardian” for another month. And she knew why — to collect his ward.
Sarah was arguing with Edward, and soon heard a third voice chime in — cold, rigid, but very commanding. Oh no. He was here too. Victoria threw on a discarded gray dress from the previous day, forgoing all of her regular undergarments save the chemise she currently wore. She breathed a sigh of relief when she heard Charlie’s voice join the argument. She would never have left Aunt Sarah alone, but she would be fine with Charlie.
Well, Victoria thought, as she dangled her foot out the windowsill, here we go again.
She had come halfway around the world, and here she was, caught in the very same predicament, running away from the two men who threatened to destroy her future.
Only this time was different. This time she wasn’t running to somewhere — she was running to someone. She had to find Callum. He could help. He would help. No matter his feelings, he would be there for her, he’d proven that before. He was a man that could be counted on, that she knew to be a fact. Just as she was helping him with his situation, they would figure out her predicament together.
This time there was no lattice. Victoria swung her foot over the ledge, hoisting herself overtop of the flowerpots that bordered her window. Her fingers gripped the edge as she struggled to find a hold for her feet. She thought perhaps she could wedge her toes into the brick — she hadn’t had time to put on shoes — but the edges weren’t quite deep enough. She looked beneath her. If she could swing herself from the ledge, she might be able to reach the drainpipe attached to the corner. Or possibly shimmy her way down where the terrace jutted out…
“Need a hand, lass?” His voice warmed her every time she heard it, but nothing could top the rush of relief — of knowing she was safe, with him — that washed over her, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes that dangled toward the ground. She looked down and saw him standing there, grinning up at her with his hands on his hips.
“Quite the view from down here!”
“This is not a time to joke!” Victoria couldn’t help but scold him. “Edward and the duke are inside right this instant. In no time, they shall be upstairs for me. I must leave!”
“Well then, let’s go,” he drawled.
“But how do you suppose… can you catch me?”
“Of course I can catch you. Have a little faith and let go.”
She took a breath, looked down at Callum to judge her landing, then, with a “Here I come!” she released her fingers, pushing back from the wall, her stomach in her throat as, for a moment, all that surrounded her was air, but soon she landed in his arms. “Oomph.”
“Well, milady,” he said with a kiss on her temple, “away we go.” He lifted her onto Ansgar and climbed behind her. Flicking the reins, he pushed the horse into a gallop. “Hang on.”
* * *
Victoria gripped the horse’s mane in her fingers as Callum’s arms slipped around her body to hold the reins. It was the perfect place to be, but she didn’t fool herself. They couldn’t stay on the horse forever. Where would they go, what would they do? The wheels in her mind churned as she thought of the possibilities.
Before she chose her path, though, she had to know what Callum wanted. Would they be running from the duke together, or would she continue running alone? All her life she had never wanted to be with any man — she had thought the comfort of finding friends and family would be enough. Yet here he was, and nothing before had ever felt so right. There was something about his heart, his laughter, the warmth of his smile, and his compassion for others that drew him to her.
She couldn’t imagine him leaving. In such a short time, he had made a huge imprint on her life, and she didn’t know what it could look like without him now. But she would only stay with him — wherever he went — if he really and truly wanted her in return.
They raced over fields, past houses and one of the lakes. She had no idea where they were going, but Callum and Ansgar were focused on a path ahead. Finally, they slowed as they reached a settlement of log houses.
“Where are we?” Victoria said breathlessly as Callum swung off the saddle and reached up for her.
“’Tis Lebret.”
“Lebret? What are we doing here?”
“There’s a priest here — Father John. Angus told me about him. He has a small chapel here.”
“A priest? What do we need a priest for?” She looked down at him, her eyes wide, her cheeks heated.
And the way he looked at her right now… stole her breath away.
“We’re getting married.”
Her heart seemed to stop completely as it took a moment for her to determine that she had heard him correctly.
“Married! But, Callum, I thought… You said…. I’m not sure….”
He reached up for her and slid her off the horse, taking her hands. “Victoria, I know you said ye never wanted to be married. But I’ve thought this through, and the way I see it, right now you have two choices. You can marry me, or you can marry the Duke of Lansing. At least with me, you know you’ll be safe. I would not hurt you, and you know he will. There’s nowhere else to run to for now, so at the very least if you have a husband of your own, there will be nothing they can do to you any longer. If we’re going to do this, we have to hurry before your stepfather and the duke catch up to us.”
He took a breath as he squeezed her hands.
“So, Victoria Brighton — will you marry me?”
Victoria chewed her lip.
“Do you want to marry me?”
He smiled down at her.
“I can honestly say, Victoria, that I cannot imagine myself married to another.”
It was no declaration of love, but it was enough. It would have to be.
Victoria slowly nodded, shocked into speechlessness, as he released one hand but gripped the other and led her to the door of a small structure built of poplar logs. He knocked politely, and when no answer came, he pounded on the door. At last, the wooden door creaked open, revealing a small man, covered in long robes. He was slightly bent over, wrinkles surrounding his clear green eyes and lips.
His eyebrows drew together as he took in the two of them at his door.
“Patience, lad,” he said, his Irish accent lilting his tone. “Though I think I can guess what it is you’re wantin’ today. Is the girl with child?”
Victoria flushed even deeper as Callum stared at the priest with a hint of ire.
“Nay, Father. She’s not with child. But we do want to be married, and as soon as possible. ’Tis important. Please.”
“I can do that for ye, lad, but I need a witness or two. Run down to the next place, will ya, and find the Browns? Ask them to come while we get ourselves ready. Come, my girl, come on in. Oh, and lad? Ask Mrs. Brown if she has some shoes for your soon-to-be missus. I’d not like to marry a gel without any shoes.”
As Callum left for the neighbors, Victoria stood awkwardly with the priest inside the small room that included six crudely constructed pews and a small altar at the front. “Is there anything I can do to help prepare, Father?” she asked as he puttered around.
“No, child, but tell me something,” he said, stopping to stare at her intently, and Victoria shivered as it seemed the old priest could see right through her into her soul. “Is this what you want? You’re not being forced? Because if you are, Connor Brown will help you out.”
“Oh, no,” she answered, tripping over her words as she had yet to come to terms with what was happening. “Or yes, I should say. This is… t
his is fine. It’s good.”
Callum burst through the door followed by a large man with fiery red hair and a woman half his size. “Here are the Browns. We better hurry. There are horses at the top of the hill.”
“I don’t know what this is all about, boy, but she seems willing enough, so I’ll go through with this,” said Father John with a sigh. “Come in, come in. Mary, did you happen to bring a pair of shoes?”
After Victoria stuffed her feet into a pair of shoes a mite too small, the priest motioned Callum and Victoria toward him in front of the altar. “Are ye both Catholic?”
Callum nodded.
“Anglican,” said Victoria.
“Hurmph,” muttered the priest. “English. Good enough, I suppose.” The fire in the corner cracked in the following silence.
Callum took Victoria’s hands and turned her toward him. His deep blue eyes gazed into hers. “All will be well, Victoria, I promise you that.” Her gaze flicked back and forth then held on his. He was like a steady rock in the midst of a stream full of rapids. If she hung on tightly enough, she could save herself.
Victoria tried not to shake. She could hardly believe she was getting married. Sarah wasn’t here, nor Maisie. But Callum was. And she was sure her father was watching over her. Come to think of it, something about Connor Brown’s countenance reminded her a bit of her father.
She trembled with the need to ask Callum so many questions, yet there was no time. He was tying himself to her for life, and for all she could tell, he didn’t want to be married, at least not to her. He had pushed her away enough for her to be sure of that fact. What would it be like to be married to a man who didn’t want her with him? She didn’t know, but once this was over, she would let him be free if he chose to be. And if he did want her to stay, she would go where he went, and learn to keep her mouth shut and her feelings to herself. He was saving her from a life of misery, and she owed him.
Victoria stole a glance at the Browns. They seemed intrigued, but not shocked. Perhaps they had seen many situations like this before, living so close to the one priest in the area.
Then she realized what she must look like. She had been exhausted from a day at the clinic. Add to that an exhilarating horseback ride and Callum’s shocking gallantry… then she realized the greatest issue of all. She wasn’t wearing undergarments. She was getting married wearing borrowed shoes, in an old, dirty dress and near to nothing underneath, her hair in tangles around her shoulders.
“Callum?” she said softly.
“What is it, Victoria?” he asked gently, leaning down toward her.
“I must look the most frightful bride that ever lived.”
A soft chuckle escaped his lips. “No, darling. Ye look beautiful.” He gave her a light kiss.
“That comes afterwards,” Father John interjected, his disapproval amusing in a distracting sort of way. Somehow, he seemed to be looking down at them despite the fact she and Callum both towered over him. “Now, let’s get on with this.”
He read through the marriage rites, and had them repeat to one another their wedding vows. Victoria realized the enormity of the act as she recited, “I take you, Callum, to be my husband…”
Their ceremony concluded with the final words. “I pronounce you husband and wife,” Father John finished as the door burst open.
* * *
The light from the graying afternoon sky silhouetted the frames of the two men who could only be Edward Travers and the Duke of Lansing.
“Victoria Brighton!” shouted Travers. “What in the name of…. Actually, never mind. Stay right there. The duke is here. This is my daughter and she must marry whom I choose. That man is here beside me. Lansing, go claim your fiancée. Perhaps this priest can marry you now before she can slip away again. As for you—”
As Travers waved a finger in Victoria’s face, Callum and the priest both moved forward in front of her. Before they could say anything, though, Victoria stepped around them and faced her stepfather.
“First of all, I am not your daughter and never will be. You may be my guardian, but that should not mean you can sell me like cattle. Besides that, you can no longer marry me off. I’m already married. Meet my husband.”
Callum stepped forward, keeping one arm around Victoria and the other in his pocket.
“I would say I’m pleased to meet you, sir, but that would be far from the truth.”
Travers’ icy gaze bore into the two of them.
“Do you really think this…” he gestured at the priest, “quick sham of a marriage is going to work? We can have this annulled just as fast you were married. You had no right to marry without my permission. No right at all.”
As Travers reached forward to grab Victoria, Callum stepped in front of her to shield her. At the same moment, a shadow fell over the room as the long frame of Angus McLaren filled the doorway.
“Are these men bothering you, Mr. McDougall?” he asked Callum. “I received a complaint.”
“Actually, Sergeant McLaren, they are indeed. They are calling into question my recent marriage and are trying to steal away my new bride.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Gentlemen, please come with me and my colleague. I believe you are acquainted with Sergeant MacDonald. We would be pleased to escort you to the police barracks or to the train station — your choice.”
“Excuse me.” The voice of the Duke of Lansing cut through the air and sent chills down Victoria’s spine. He had stood so still and straight near the door, having remained silent throughout this exchange. “I believe I should have something to say as the betrothed of this woman. If we are talking about the law, as I was her intended, I should have the opportunity to marry her as opposed to this Scotsman she has taken up with. We have traveled far for me to claim my fiancée, who left England before our wedding vows could be completed. But I assure you, every other aspect of our arrangement was finalized. Now, as long as this…” He looked down his long nose, “man has not defiled her in any way, Travers, I would still be pleased to proceed.”
Despite having never met these men before, Callum had already felt nothing but ire at Victoria’s tale. Having met them now, however, he was suddenly filled with pride at how brave she had been, taking matters into her own hands to escape the elaborate scheme that had revolved around her yet cared nothing about her. He stepped forward, his hand going to his pocket to pull out his gun, but stopped when Victoria softly placed a hand on his arm before stepping up beside him and planting her hands on her hips.
“All of you, just stop and listen. I am not your property,” she said, pointing to the duke. She then turned to Travers. “Or yours.” Finally, she turned to Callum, softening her words as she placed a smooth hand on his cheek. “And I am not your property either. But,” she said to Travers and the duke, “I am his wife now, so by law regarding my inheritance, neither of you have claim any longer to my life, or to my wealth. I believe both Father John and Sergeant McLaren will agree that our marriage is in every way legal and binding, despite whatever contract was drawn up between the two of you. As I mentioned, Edward, you are not my father, and even as my stepfather, you have no right to negotiate any of my inheritance. And you, your grace, may have been my betrothed, but when I left England I left you and therefore broke the promise, which, I should note, I did not actually make to you. Your plans, unfortunately, are no longer possible, and I would ask you both to leave.”
She crossed her arms and was pleased when she felt Callum’s arm encircle her waist from behind, providing support but still allowing her to stand her own ground.
The duke’s face remained impassive, but the color in Travers’ cheeks continued to rise as he sputtered to speak.
“That’s enough, sir,” said Angus, taking the duke by the arm. “MacDonald, please help me escort these men. Now what will it be — train station or police barracks? I believe the train is due this evening, and I would highly suggest you take it as far east as ye can.”
Travers was still sputt
ering, but finally defeated, they were escorted from the room, leaving silence in their wake. Victoria had remained stoically tall and strong until they were out of sight. Then she turned and threw her arms around Callum, collapsing into him. “Thank you, Callum,” she said, burrowing her head into his shoulder. “Thank you so much.”
“No, Victoria,” he said softly, dropping a kiss on the top of her head and drawing his arms tighter around her. “It was all you.”
25
Father John cleared his throat. “Well. That was quite the entertaining afternoon. I am, however, surprisingly relieved, for after all I just witnessed, I believe the two of you might actually be quite happy together. This has been one of the most interesting marriages I have officiated, and I wish you both a wonderful life together. There are no rooms available in town at the moment, so you may want to head back before the sun goes down.”
As Victoria and Callum said their thanks and made their way to the door, Mrs. Brown surprised Victoria with a hug while Connor engulfed one of Callum’s hands in his own. Victoria returned Mrs. Brown’s shoes in a flurry of “good lucks” and “congratulations,” and then they went their separate ways.
After riding to the top of the hill, Callum stopped and dismounted, holding up his hands for Victoria to jump down into. Now, the two of them stood together looking out over the vast expanse of prairie, Victoria suddenly appeared quite awkward and unsure. Her hands fisted in her skirts, and Callum realized she had yet to look at him since they had actually married.
He hoped it hadn’t been his doing. He had tried to exude calm throughout the ceremony, but inside he’d been nervous, wondering whether he was doing the right thing. Was she happy about this? Or upset? He wished he’d had a moment to find out what she had been thinking beforehand, but they had run out of time for that.
Callum could sense her shyness and yearned to put her at ease. But for the first time today, he had a moment to stop and think about all that had happened. When he came to this town, he had certainly not intended to be leaving with a bride. When Travers and the duke arrived today, he had taken action to help Victoria, but he didn’t pause long enough to think of the effects the marriage would have on his own life.
Callum’s Vow: The Victorian Highlanders Page 16