Guardian

by Marnie Leighton

  ‘Good. Because I have nothing to offer, not now, not ever.’

  His words hurt and I searched his face, desperate for some of the kindness that he usually gave so easily, but there was nothing. A slow drizzle began floating down from the miserable sky.

  Aydin cast his eyes upward. ‘Perhaps you should forget your ride altogether,’ he mumbled. His gaze returned, the anger replaced by a sense of defeat. ‘Besides your father has important matters to discuss with you.’

  Stunned, I stepped out of his way, and he stormed into the stables. I wandered back to the house, confused. What just happened? How had all my hopes crumbled so swiftly?

  My shoes squeaked on the polished floorboards as my dress left a damp trail from the front door to my father’s office. I knocked quietly.

  ‘Come in.’

  I walked into the dark, stuffy room. My father sat behind his large oak desk. He leaned forward. ‘Ah Callie, that was quick. Forgo your ride did you, my love? Just as well. Weather looks a touch unpleasant. Come. Sit. We need to talk.’

  I eased into one of his overstuffed, green leather chairs with my hands in my lap. The air was heavy with cigar smoke and wood polish.

  He rested back in his chair. ‘Callie we need to discuss your plans for the future. You are seventeen now. Most of your school friends are engaged or married. Have you given any thought to a possible suitor? Your disinterest in the ones I have suggested has become somewhat disheartening.’

  My father’s words rattled around my head, but all I could hear was my own thoughts—What did Aydin mean he had nothing to offer?

  ‘As my only daughter, it is essential that we find you a suitable match and soon.’

  The way he looked at me.

  ‘I need to know both you and the estate will be well managed once I am gone.’

  He seemed so hurt. Why? What did I do?

  ‘Are you even listening to me, Carolyn?’

  My father paused waiting for acknowledgment. The silence drew me from my thoughts. ‘Yes, Papa.’

  ‘What about Lord Keene’s son? He is close to your age and from an impeccable family. His father even mentioned you by name last week. I took that as an excellent sign. Maybe we should invite the family for dinner.’

  My eyes returned to my skirt, and I flicked my nails on the thick material. I was numb, unable to think. ‘Very well, Papa,’ I whispered, too tired to argue.

  My father leaped from his desk. ‘Really Callie? That’s wonderful. I knew you’d see reason. You have always been a remarkably bright girl. I will go tell Mother immediately. She will be thrilled. How about next Wednesday? That’s only four days away. Yes, Wednesday would be good.’

  He left the room in a flurry of words. I didn’t, I couldn’t move. I just sat there, Aydin’s cold dark eyes etched in my mind. What had I done wrong?

  ***

  My parents, as planned, arranged a dinner for the following Wednesday, and they cordially invited the Keene family to join us. It turned out I had met their son before. His name was Bradley, and he had three younger sisters whom I’d sat with at several picnics. They’d all seemed kind enough, and I also remembered a dark-headed boy, who was often with them. He was tall and smooth-skinned, with a shy, quiet smile, and I’d thought him quite handsome.

  I spent the days leading up to the dinner trying to convince myself this was what I wanted. He was to be a Lord, and I’d always said I wanted to marry a Lord. And his father indeed held a lot of land. This was how it should be. Wasn’t it?

  Strangely enough, I didn’t see Aydin once before the dinner. For some reason, my father had changed him to night duty.

  Wednesday afternoon, my mother spent endless hours fussing, determined to make me look my best. She selected an elegant white dress, and her lady’s maid forced my hair into rag curls. The house was immaculate, and every room looked like a garden—I’m sure there were more flowers inside than out.

  Lord and Lady Keene arrived at precisely the appointed hour. Conveniently Bradley was the only other family member who could attend, as his sisters all had prior engagements.

  Waiting in the parlor, I was sick with nerves. When the butler finally announced our guests, I leaped to my feet clutching my hands.

  Lord and Lady Keene swept into the room, greeting my parents warmly. Behind them, I caught a glimpse of a tall, young man with slick hair—black as the suit he was wearing.

  ‘Allow me to introduce my son Bradley,’ Lord Keene said proudly. He moved aside bringing him into full view.

  Bradley stepped forward. ‘Pleasure to meet you, Lady and Lord Williams.’

  His voice was confident and smooth. He shook my father’s hand firmly, his eyes flicking briefly in my direction.

  ‘Wonderful to finally meet you,’ Papa replied beaming. ‘Your father has told me many splendid things.’

  ‘I only hope to prove them true,’ he replied with a charming smile.

  ‘Come, let me introduce you to my daughter Carolyn,’ my father added, almost dragging Bradley across the room.

  Hot blood rushed to my ears as everyone’s focus shifted to me. The room swam, and I did my best curtsy, reminding myself to breathe.

   Lady Keene smiled kindly, she seemed to sense my overwhelming embarrassment. ‘What beautiful flowers,’ she commented, turning towards a large arrangement.

  The others took her lead and followed her gaze, leaving Bradley and I alone in the crowded room. I stared at my clutched hands, horrified by how red my face must be.

  Bradley cleared his throat softly. ‘Your father owns many beautiful horses. Do you ride?’

  I looked up, bright hazel eyes met mine. Thick lashes gave him a slightly sleepy look, and fine stubble covered his top lip. I wondered if he was trying to grow a moustache to impress me. I bit my tongue as a sudden desire to giggle became nearly overwhelming. ‘Yes. I love to ride,’ I managed to whisper.

  A dazzling smile lit his face, forming deep dimples in his cheeks. He was far more handsome than I remembered. My stomach tightened as I returned the gesture.

  ‘So do I,’ he said cheerily. ‘In fact, there’s nothing I enjoy more.’

  The evening went well. Bradley’s manners were faultless, and I found him easy to talk to. Throughout dinner, I did my best to remember the things I’d learned at school—I conversed as a lady would, speaking only when it was appropriate, and I never implied I had knowledge of anything Bradley didn’t.

  It was a little tiresome, but Bradley made it more comfortable than I expected. I missed my carefree conversations with Aydin, but I reminded myself this is how it should be. This was what all my training was for.

  Many hours later, Bradley and his parents made their excuses. My parents escorted Lord and Lady Keene to the front door while Bradley and I followed a short distance behind.

  He paused just out of earshot delivering me another of his dimpled grins. ‘I really did have a nice time tonight.’

  I held his gaze for a second. ‘I…I did too.’

  He held out his hand for mine, and I gave it to him. He kissed my fingers softly. I bit my lip; my corset cutting into my ribs.

  His eyes lifted. ‘I hope to see you again soon, Lady Carolyn.’

  ‘I would like that,’ I replied with a smile.

  The next day a card from Bradley requesting to see me again, arrived at the house. My parents were thrilled. He visited several times for tea in the following fortnight. I couldn’t deny I was growing rather fond of him. The fact I was seeing Aydin less also helped. Bradley was what every girl dreamed of, and I was determined not to let a silly crush stand in the way of such a good match. I knew Bradley didn’t give me the internal glow that I got from Aydin but, as they taught us in school, marriage often precedes love, so I was hopeful.

  I knew things were going particularly well when Bradley asked me to escort him to an upcoming ball. To ‘step out’ in public was a significant statement and my father was beside himself. I’m sure he had the wedding and grandchildren already pl
anned.

  On the night of the ball, Bradley presented me with a beautiful gold locket. I was speechless—the gift of jewelry usually preceded a proposal, and I didn’t know if I was delighted or terrified—I think I was a little of both.

  The evening was wonderful, and my school friends, who were at the ball, were green with envy over my potential husband.

  Over the weeks that followed, the outings with Bradley increased. I suspected he would ask for my hand any day now. My eighteenth birthday was only ten days away, and I thought he might propose then. It was all happening so fast.

  As the day approached, I started to get more and more nervous. I liked Bradley, but was this what I wanted? Every time I imagined him proposing I got a hollow feeling in my stomach, and I knew exactly why—I had to see Aydin one more time.

  Three days before my birthday I decided to go for a ride. I knew Aydin would not join me, but he was in the stable that day so he would at least have to ready my horse. I needed to see his reaction when I mentioned Bradley. I’d decided that if he showed no emotions, I would forget him forever, and accept Bradley’s proposal without a second thought.

  I walked into the stable with confidence, but the sight of Aydin grooming Fern stopped me in my tracks. He had his back to me, and he seemed unaware of my presence. An intense ache instantly seized my heart—I’d missed him so much.

  He brushed the mare’s neck with smooth even strokes, whispering reassuring words the whole time. She looked so calm, and I wanted to be her, to hear his words and feel his touch—god this was so unfair; my feelings hadn’t changed at all. Every part of me cried out for him.

  ‘Hello Aydin,’ I said firmly, trying to hide unspeakable emotions.

  He started, nearly losing his balance. ‘Oh, good morning Lady Callie, I didn’t hear you come in.’

  His black eyes found mine, and every muscle in my stomach seized. I had to look away. ‘And how is Fern this fine morning?’ I asked, laying my hand on her muzzle.

  ‘She is well.’

  I dared to glance at him, dark circles encased his eyes. ‘And are you well too?’

  ‘Yes,’ he replied in a tone that said otherwise. ‘I see you are dressed for riding. Would you like me to saddle her?’

  ‘I was hoping you could saddle her and another.’

   His shoulders dropped. ‘I would love to ride with you Callie, but we both know that can’t happen.’

  My frustration surged. Why was he so calm? I wanted to scream. I wanted to see some passion, a hint of fight, but there was nothing.

  I huffed dramatically. ‘It is probably just as well, no doubt my soon to be fiancé would not approve of my riding with another man,’ I retorted. ‘I guess it would be inappropriate after all.’

  I desperately wanted to provoke a reaction, and I did, but it wasn’t the one I hoped for. His eyes dulled and he merely nodded before walking away to get my saddle. The pain in my chest soared—his indifference was torture. So, this was how little he cared? I’d been such a fool.

  He had Fern saddled in no time, and I followed as he led her outside. He held out a shaking hand to help me mount, but I ignored his offer. I climbed on without saying a word, silenced by my humiliation. I kicked Fern harder than I should have and I galloped away from the stable. I didn’t look back; I didn’t want to look back—I was done with Aydin James forever.

  ***

  Bradley did ask for my hand on my eighteenth birthday, and I accepted. A short engagement was thought prudent, and the date was set for six weeks later. We chose to marry in the Church of All Souls—a place I’d gone with my family every Sunday since I was born. The old, gray stone church stood next to a cliff, overlooking the river where Aydin and I had picnicked. It was small but quaint, and the most prominent families would be invited to the lavish affair. I planned on having the most beautiful day of my life, one that everyone would remember.

  My wedding day came quickly, and the preparations kept me so busy, I didn’t have time to ponder if I’d made the right decision. I’d only seen Aydin two or three times since the proposal, and he’d continued to ignore me.

  It was an afternoon wedding, and again my mother took it upon herself to get me ready.

  ‘Honestly Callie, you have not stopped fidgeting all day,’ she scolded, pulling at my corset ribbons. ‘We will never get there at this rate.’

  The corset was so tight I could barely breathe. ‘Yes mother,’ I whispered as another wave of nausea washed over.

  ‘Don’t forget to stand up straight, and do try to remember everybody’s name.’ She slid the dress over my head. After poking and pulling at my gown, she finally stepped back to survey her work. ‘Now you may look.’

  I turned to the full-length mirror and gasped. I barely recognized the woman staring back. The beautifully embroidered, ivory silk gown, clung to my waist fanning out as it dropped to the floor. Delicate lace gathered at my wrists, matching the trim of the veil. Flowers dotted my hair, and mother had pinched my cheeks to bring out a blush. The dress was so lovely, and I guess I looked pretty, but all I felt was ill and alone.

  ‘Stunning,’ my mother whispered with tears in her eyes. ‘It is time for us to go.’

  My horse-drawn carriage pulled up in front of the church, and as I sat there waiting for my father to help me out, I imagined everyone inside. My breath quickened, and I shifted back in my seat, wanting to forget where I was for just a moment.

  I turned to look out the opposite window, hoping to see my river, but a neatly dressed man with his back to me, stole my attention. He stood about fifty yards away, on the edge of the cliff, staring into the distance; his gray suit a perfect match for the low-hanging clouds. I didn’t know who he was, but then he shifted slightly, allowing a glimpse of his profile. My heart caught in my throat—it was Aydin. I nearly called to him, but I sensed something was wrong. Why was he out here? Why wasn’t he turning to look at me? Surely he’d heard me pull up. Was it because he didn’t want to see me? Was it because he was hurting? Was it because he didn’t want me to marry another man?

  Suddenly the world began to spin, and every emotion I’d been holding down, rushed to the surface. I couldn’t breathe, and I began to panic—I had to get out, but before I could open the carriage door, my father’s beaming face appeared at the window. The sight of him was overwhelming, and tears flooded my eyes.

  He tutted happily. ‘Crying already Callie? You’re not even at the altar. Come, let us get you to your awaiting husband.’

  He opened the carriage door and held out his hand, but I couldn’t move. His smile withered, and he reached in, his hand opening wider. I reluctantly lay my fingers on his, and his grip tightened. I wanted to leap from the carriage and run; run to Aydin, run anywhere—I couldn’t do this. I considered my father’s familiar blue eyes; the concern now etched his forehead. He smiled gently—did he know what I was thinking? Would he have taken me home if I’d asked him too? Maybe, but I would never ask. Despite my slowly breaking heart I just couldn’t do this to him; I just couldn’t bring this shame to my family. So, I tried my best to smile, and I let him help me out of the carriage. I held his arm as we walked into the church, and I left my happiness outside…because that was the right thing to do.

  ***

  After the wedding, Bradley and I took up residence on his father’s property in a modest home within walking distance of the main house. I quickly realized Bradley’s heavy involvement in his father’s estate. He was out of the house most days, and that left me alone with far too many thoughts. It was only a fifteen-minute ride back to my parent’s house, but as my mother kept visiting me, I never got a chance to return.

  I did my best to be the happy new bride, and fortunately, Bradley seemed fooled. I’d feared the first night alone with him, but it hadn’t been as unpleasant as I’d imagined, and the subsequent nights were even less terrifying. I tried to feel some love for Bradley, he truly was wonderful in every way—but no matter how often I lay with him, my mind and heart were
still with the man who stood mourning me on the edge of a cliff.

  As the weeks drifted into months, I became obsessed with the thought of seeing Aydin again, and one day when my mother was around for tea, I finally found the courage to ask after him.

  ‘So how is Aydin these days?’ I enquired as casually as I could.

   My mother’s cup clinked a little too loudly as she placed it down on her saucer. She looked from beneath the brim of her heavily decorated, purple hat. The lace, peeking from the neck of her matching dress, rose and fell with a heavy sigh.

  ‘He has been unwell,’ she replied flatly. ‘But he is better now.’

  ‘What do you mean unwell?’

  ‘He had to take some time off. His father has improved though.’

  ‘When was this?’ I insisted, ignoring the comment about his father.

  She looked away as though disinterested. ‘Oh, just after the wedding I think. Has that painting always been above the hearth?’

  ‘Yes, it has. How long was Aydin ill for?’

  Her sharp eyes met mine. ‘A week, maybe two. I’m not sure, but it was an inconvenience.’

  ‘What was wrong with him?’

  Her dropping eyebrows registered a warning. ‘I am not sure. All I know is they are having trouble finding a replacement for when he leaves.’

  My hands started to shake. ‘Leaves? When? Where is he going?’

  ‘London, in about a fortnight. You knew he was going to study medicine.’

  ‘Yes, but not this soon. His father is too unwell.’

  She subtly rolled her eyes. ‘Were you not listening? I said his father is much improved. Now, there is nothing more I can tell you.’

  She picked up her tea and sipped delicately. The conversation was over.

  ***

  My obsession to see Aydin only flared. Two days after I found out he was leaving, Bradley came home unexpectedly, not long after breakfast. I was sitting in the library reading when he appeared at the door. He stood tall in his tan, three-piece suit, his dark hair slicked back from his face.