Ella knew her smile was weak but she gave it anyway. “It’ll be fine. I tried to have as few preconceived notions as possible since I had very little information, but as we traveled from town to town on the train, I couldn’t help imagining what it will be like.”
“My land is extensive and productive,” he said proudly. Ella wasn’t sure exactly what that was in reply to so she just nodded and smiled.
“We don’t lack for much,” he added.
As if on cue, their food arrived. Ella tried not to devour it like the ravenous person she was, but she turned her attention to the food and gave up on trying to talk to the man at her side. Several minutes later, she could finally feel some relief from the deep hunger pangs, and she was able to look up from her plate. She was forced to blink. She hoped her cheeks weren’t flaming but they probably were, she acknowledged, as she realized her handsome new husband was staring at her.
“You’ve certainly got a healthy appetite,” he commented, a twitch of his lips showing he was trying not to laugh.
Ella wanted to crawl under the table and disappear, but that wasn’t an option. She tried to be brave instead. “Like I mentioned, I was rather hungry.”
“Well, I am relieved that we were able to alleviate your need for the moment,” he replied, not appearing to have taken offense. “Please, don’t stop unless you’re finished.”
Her appetite had fled by now, but she had learned the hard way not to pass up available food. Ella forced herself to finish the rest of her meal. It sat heavy in her stomach, but she ignored the discomfort. He had said it was a long way to his home, and she didn’t want to be hungry along the way.
Before the silence became too dreadfully awkward, they were interrupted by a feminine voice from behind Ella’s shoulder.
“Good morning, Mr. McLain. What a surprise meeting you in Council Bluffs today. I thought you never ventured past the village if there was not dire need.”
Ella felt herself stiffen at the woman’s tone, but she tried to keep her smile pleasant as she turned to see who was speaking in such a familiar way to Mr. McLain. When she then glanced at him, it was difficult to interpret his expression. It was a mixture of irritation and amusement. He obviously knew the woman. Ella shifted her gaze back to the nosy meddler.
The woman was rather mousy with small features and sandy brown hair, but she looked like she was trying to be a fashion plate. Ella was uncomfortable with the way the woman’s eyes seemed to be cataloguing every aspect of her attire. She wished the woman had not intruded on their meal, but Ella had been raised a certain way so there was nothing to be done but to put out her hand and introduce herself.
“It’s nice to meet you,” she began, almost stuttering over the fact that she didn’t know what to call herself. She skipped that part, hoping the woman wouldn’t notice. She seemed to be full of her own importance so she might not much care for Ella’s name.
The woman’s handshake was limp, and her face looked as though she had sucked on a lemon as Mr. McLain stepped in to perform the introductions.
“Mrs. Crocker, this is my wife, I was just picking her up from the train.”
The woman’s eyes couldn’t have gotten any rounder. “Are you a mail order bride then?” she demanded.
Ella felt her face heating. She coughed to cover her discomfort, and Mr. McLain covered over the awkward moment by interrupting. “What brings you to The Bluffs, Mrs. Crocker? Is Jacob with you?”
Mrs. Crocker appeared startled by the question, as though she had something to hide, but she recovered and made polite conversation briefly.
“It will be pleasant to have another woman close by. We’re practically neighbors. I’m sure we’ll run into each other from time to time.”
Ella wasn’t certain of the woman’s sincerity, but she made an appropriate reply. Within moments Mrs. Crocker quickly made her excuses and left them. It had been a strange encounter but was soon forgotten.
Without much further ado, they finished their meal, Mr. McLain settled up their bill, and he ushered her from the room. Handing her up onto the wagon with one hand while tossing her baggage into the back with the other, the man displayed his strength in a magnificent way. Ella had to bite her lip and avert her gaze so as not to ogle him. She felt as though her temperature were rising. It was highly uncomfortable. How was she going to be able to bear living with the man?
As they set off, she noticed they were heading almost due south. She pondered over that realization, noting that had he lived further west, she could’ve gotten off at a later stop. The rancher didn’t seem overly inclined to conversation, so Ella allowed her mind to wander back over how she had managed to find herself in her present circumstances.
Chapter Two
Boston 1866
“Y ou want me to do what?” Ella must not have heard correctly.
“It isn’t so very unreasonable, Ella,” Sibby pointed out, sounding as though she were explaining something to a child. “Women agree to arranged marriages all the time. There are often ads in the newspaper from gentlemen seeking a wife.”
“I know. I’ve seen the advertisements myself, but I never considered replying to one.”
“Do you really have much other choice?”
Ella pondered the question but tried to ignore the truth of her friend’s words. “Even a mail-order bride can change her mind if she reaches her destination and decides the man won’t suit her. What your brother is suggesting will remove even that opportunity from me. Do you really think I’m that desperate?”
“Aren’t you, my dear? You know Horace has tied my hands. I can’t help you anymore. He wants you gone from the house and won’t give me a single cent to help you.”
“Not that I want you to give me your money, Sibby.” Ella’s reply was prompt and stiff before she ran across the room and flung herself to the floor by her friend’s seat. Placing her head in Sibby’s lap, Ella exclaimed softly, “I never meant to cause any trouble for you with your husband, my dear friend. I am so sorry that I have brought my problems into your home.”
“Don’t be silly,” her friend reprimanded, even as she soothed her by stroking her unruly curls back from her brow. “I would do it every single day if the need arose. And I actually hate to push you into agreeing to Fred’s proposition, since it will mean you will promptly move across the country. But I don’t see very many other options for you. This proxy arrangement will be a protection for you. Yes, you won’t be able to change your mind, but then neither will he be able to. Wouldn’t it be terrible if you went all that way and then found out he had changed his mind? This way, if you’re already legally wed, he is obliged to provide for you immediately.”
Ella sighed. How had it come to this? She glanced down at her fashionable gown. Or rather, it was fashionable two years ago when she had arranged for it to be made. It had held up remarkably well under the strain of being worn well past its intended use. If only her parents hadn’t died in such an unsavory manner, she wouldn’t be broke and unmarriageable. Before their deaths, she had enjoyed the attentions of several suitors. However, as soon as word had gotten out what had happened to her parents, they had all disappeared from view. Not that she wanted any of them anyway. If they couldn’t stand by her in her hour of need, they were of no use to her. But then, no one had stood by her except Sibby. Sybil Trenton, her friend from boarding school. They had been fast friends since they were little girls. And despite how silly Sybil might be at times, Ella would be eternally grateful for her loyal friendship. She would have been homeless these last few months if not for Sibby.
Another sigh escaped her. It would have been idyllic if not for Horace. Ella couldn’t quite suppress her shudder. How did her lovely friend end up saddled with such a dreadful husband? And from thus stemmed the true reason for her hesitation in accepting Sibby and Fred’s proposition. What if this unknown gentleman ended up being similar to Sybil’s husband? She would be bound to him until death did them part. A large part of her would rather
be in the workhouse. But the rest of her would prefer some semblance of the life she had known. She didn’t know if she could survive the workhouse. She would like to think she could be a hard worker, but she had never done a day of manual labor in her life, so it was doubtful she could start doing it now. Of course, if she accepted this stranger’s proposal and moved to his “spread,” whatever that was, out West, she would obviously be expected to do a certain amount of work. He couldn’t be expected to have servants to cater to her. But it wouldn’t be like the workhouse. She had toured one before with her mother, when they were looking for the less fortunate to assist with their good works.
Ella almost snorted as she thought of it. They and all their friends had thought they were doing right by people. Feeling blessed in their own good fortune, they had wanted to help those worse off than they were. But here she was in desperate need, and none of those so called well-meaning women would even consider lifting a finger for her. But she was straying from her point, even if it were in her own mind. She had witnessed what the workhouses were like, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to do it. And Sybil was correct, with absolutely no money of her own, Ella couldn’t risk the precariousness of traveling out west as merely some man’s intended. If she married him by proxy, he would be obligated to keep her. Even if he found out about her past.
And that was where the true rub came.
“What will I tell him?”
Sybil didn’t even pretend to mistake her meaning. “You needn’t give him every last detail. You have been orphaned and found yourself in straightened circumstances beyond your control. It is the absolute truth.”
“It’s true, but it’s not all of it.”
“What are the chances that he’ll be finding out the whole story from someone else? You know full well, no one from our circles will be traveling west any time soon.”
“Not even you?” Ella could hear how small her voice sounded and grimaced. There was nothing left for her here in Boston, but she couldn’t bear the thought of never again seeing the only friend she had left in the world.
“I hope, once he’s gotten over his irritation with me, Horace will allow me to visit you eventually, but that is hardly the point.”
Ella couldn’t help grinning. Her sense of humor was the only thing that had saved her these past months. She managed to find the humor in everything. Not everyone appreciated that skill, but it had preserved her senses while everything she knew had been stripped from her.
She just hoped Sybil would be able to visit her one day, preferably without her lecherous husband. She could do without the experience of keeping him at arm’s length. It was the silver lining of being put from the house. At least now she no longer had to avoid his advances while simultaneously keeping Sybil unaware of his unsavory inclinations. Not that she really believed Sybil was fully unaware, but it would hurt her to know he had directed his attentions at her dearest friend.
“I know, and you’re right, it is doubtful anyone will be visiting. But we know so little of this man. Isn’t there a chance he has family around here that might fill him in on the details?”
“It’ll be too late by then, and you will no longer be Ella St. Clair anyway, so what will it matter?”
“I could consider that I should be grateful for the fact that society has known me as Eleanor, instead of Ella. That might help. I will be Ella McLain in the future, and poor Eleanor St. Clair’s trials needn’t affect me at all.”
“That’s the spirit. So you will accept, then?”
Ella heaved another heartfelt sigh. “As you said, I haven’t much other choice.”
From that moment on, it was all a blur. The maids were set to packing Ella’s few possessions. She did have several gowns that were still holding up, but Ella questioned how much use they would be for her out West. She rather suspected she would need sturdier clothing in her future. But she would cross that bridge when she reached it, she reminded herself. Luckily for her, every well born lady was taught to do needlework. Surely sewing some garments wouldn’t be all that difficult. If one could monogram handkerchiefs, surely one could make a gown. Her lips twisted in wry amusement. She doubted it would be that simple, but she refused to think she wasn’t up to the challenge. She reminded herself once more that it would surely be better than slaving in the workhouse.
The vows she exchanged with Fred as proxy felt meaningless, but Ella knew they were legally binding. She tried to appreciate Fred’s cooperation in the arrangements. As Sybil’s brother, he obviously felt a sense of responsibility toward his sister’s friend. It was the only reason he would consider Ella for the arrangement.
“I know what happened to your parents wasn’t your fault, Miss Eleanor, so I don’t mind so much letting you into this arrangement. You better not make me regret it. I have my reputation to uphold.”
Ella’s smile had been stiff as she had accepted the slight insult.
“I realize you’re doing me a favor, but if you do not feel that you can trust me, perhaps you ought to do your friend out West a favor and not perform this arrangement.”
While she had kept her tone pleasant, it must have been apparent that he had been offensive. “I apologize, Miss St. Clair, I did not mean you any disrespect. Of course, I trust you. I trust the both of you. I have every expectation that Carter will make you a fine husband.”
Ella wished in that moment, so fiercely that she could feel it down to her toes, that she were not in this mess. That her parents were still alive, that she was oblivious to the shallowness of all the relationships in her life, except for Sybil, of course. She wished too that she was at home, curled up in the window seat with a purring cat in her lap without a single care in all the world. Ella would never take that life for granted ever again, if she could only have it back. With a deep sigh, she acknowledged that wishes don’t come true. This was the hand life had dealt her, and she needed to accept it with as much grace as she could muster.
She offered Fred as warm a smile as she could manage. “I appreciate your help in arranging my affairs, Fred, and I assure you, you will have no reason to regret it on my account.”
Fred, always the jovial sport, couldn’t hold on to any stiffness and seemed relieved that she wasn’t going to hold a grudge.
“I would say anytime, but hopefully you’ll never have need of any assistance again.”
“That is the dream,” Ella replied with a soft smile, unwilling to accept that there were no dreams left for her. Suddenly she had to laugh. She was being melodramatic, and it was doing no one any good.
“Very well, Fred, what do we do now?”
“We’ve just signed all the necessary paperwork. If you’re packed up, I can get you on the first train headed West in the morning.”
Ella blinked. There was to be no time for second thoughts. Just as well. Second, even third, thoughts would do her little good. She should be relieved there would be no delay in getting on with it. Any delay would have only left her time to fret. She nodded and forced more warmth into her smile as she thanked her friend’s brother.
“I appreciate your attention to all the details.”
Sybil had been silent throughout the exchange, but she now surged to her feet. Her eyes were swimming in tears, but she had a smile on her face.
“Oh, my dearest friend, I don’t know if I’m happy or sad in this moment. I’m thrilled that you are situated. Fred has assured me that this fellow is a kind gentleman who will treat you well. But oh, how I wish there was no need for you to go.”
Ella pulled her weeping friend into her arms. “As do I, of course, but there’s nothing to be done about it. And now I’m to have an adventure. Just think of the letters I’ll be able to send.”
A watery chuckle was her answer before Sybil pulled her head up. “How do you always manage to be so cheery? If you weren’t my friend, I would find it to be a rather disturbing trait.”
Ella grinned in reply and just offered a shrug. What was there to say? It was the only way
she could cope.
~~~
It was a bright, warm, end of summer day as she climbed up into the train. Fred had arranged her passage, and she trusted the ride would be as painless as possible. They were not early for the train, for which Ella was grateful. There was only time to hand up her luggage and hug Sybil once more before she was being urged to hurry as the train was about to depart. As she stepped up into the car, it began to move. She waved frantically to her only loved one remaining on earth and tried to stem the flow of her tears.
Her tears had long since dried now. Boredom and frustration had set in long before she had reached her destination. She was hungry, dishevelled, and soot stained from the days on the coal-powered conveyance. But she was alive and free from the burdens that had assailed her in Boston. It had to be uphill from here, she assured herself. She would make it so. Surely she was capable of making her life into a success despite the recent disasters. Fred, for all his foppish ways, surely wouldn’t send her into a bad situation.
She determined that she would be a successful wife of someone who owned a “spread.” She really ought to have asked Fred what that meant. She didn’t want to appear ignorant in front of her new husband. Of course, that was going to be impossible to avoid considering she really knew nothing of use. She had been raised to be a matron of high society. But thankfully, she had also been raised to use her keen mind and understanding. So hopefully that would kick in at some point. The thought amused her and Ella was able to put a smile on her face as she stepped down from the train at the end of the line. If she had wanted to go any further, she would need another ticket and would have to change rail companies.
Council Bluffs was an odd name for a town, but she was happy to have finally reached it. At least she was mostly happy. Part of her was enjoying the limbo she had been living in for the past few days as she rode the train West. No one knew her. No one had any preconceived notions or expectations of her. And she didn’t yet have to face her new husband. But she couldn’t remain in limbo any longer. She was here now and had to face the future.
A Bride For Carter (The Proxy Brides Book 6) Page 2