Otherwise Engaged

by Joanna Barker

  “I . . .” Mama paused. “I know how you carry your memories of Papa. That is also my fault, building him up in your head as the image of perfection. But when he died—” She hesitated. “When he died, you no longer had your father. You were so young.”

  “I am no longer eleven years old, Mama.” My voice ached in my throat, raw. “You needn’t protect me from the truth.”

  “There was never any reason to tell you.” She shook her head. “Even when you asked about the Bainbridges when you returned from Brighton, I never imagined you had any motivation other than curiosity. If I’d known you were engaged, this conversation would have happened a great deal sooner.”

  “Would that it had,” I murmured. How many problems could have been avoided if we hadn’t all been so determined we knew what was best? The image of Nicholas standing in the entry last night, consoling me in my fears, flashed across my mind. My heart withered.

  “In any case,” Mama said, her voice taking on an odd, businesslike tone, “what has happened is in the past, and we must decide how to face this all moving forward.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She regarded me intently. “Are you certain of this man, Rebecca? That he has your best interests at heart? That he will love you and care for you?”

  I swallowed, looking down again at the sleeping baby in my arms. There were very few things I was certain about at the moment, and I wished desperately that Edward were one of them.

  I’d known him but a few weeks in Brighton, weeks where we’d been forced to hide our growing affection from his mother. Followed by over a month where our only communication was letters smuggled through Marjorie. And of course, our reunion yesterday had not gone at all as planned. We’d hardly had enough time to know each other, let alone sort out how we might work together.

  But I knew him. I knew he was kind and honorable and intelligent. I had to trust that we would find our way together.

  “He is a good man,” I said softly. “I know he is.”

  Mama looked to William, who nodded. “Then we think you ought to invite your Mr. Bain—” She stumbled a little on his name. “Your Mr. Bainbridge to dinner. If he is as worthy as you say, he will have his chance.”

  I stared at her, her words hanging in the air between us. This was all that I had wanted—a chance for Edward to prove to my family that he was different from his parents. This future had seemed so unattainable for so long, and now it was right here before me. My chest felt full, as if it would burst. With happiness? No, that was not the right emotion. This was too heavy, too uncertain to be happiness.

  But Mama watched me with such expectation. I pushed away my hesitation. She was giving this to me, this gift. She was putting aside her own experiences and pain to help me, and I could not ignore that.

  “Thank you,” I whispered. “I know he will be glad to hear it.”

  A knock came at the door, and Lady Rowley stepped inside, remarkably refreshed for a woman who had galloped through the night to reach her granddaughter in labor. Not to mention it was early yet; she could not have slept more than a few hours after leaving Juliana with William, Mama, and me last night. I was certain my hair was a matted mess from sleeping on the chair.

  “Good morning,” she said cheerfully. “And how is our newest arrival?”

  For a moment, I thought she meant Edward, until I remembered the baby in my arms.

  “All is well,” Mama said. “He is sleeping, and so is Juliana.”

  “Good.” Lady Rowley stepped to me and held out her arms. “May I? I feel like I barely had a chance last night.”

  “Of course.” I stood and gently transferred Andrew to her. No matter that holding him hadn’t been quite so awkward as I’d thought, I was still relieved to give him up. Lady Rowley held him with such practiced care. I could not imagine being so comfortable with an infant.

  “You all ought to find your beds,” she said reproachfully. “Especially you, William. You will be of no use to Juliana if you cannot keep your eyes open.”

  “He’s not much use anyway,” came Juliana’s voice from the bed.

  We all turned to see her propping herself up against the pillows, wincing as she adjusted her position.

  “I am glad to know my wife appreciates my many talents,” William said as he went to her side and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

  She gave him a tired smile. “You really should sleep a few hours. I will be fine.”

  “I’m not tired,” William said.

  Lady Rowley joined him by the bed. “Perhaps not now, but you will be soon enough. Now go. I will stay with Juliana and little Andrew.”

  William hesitated, but when Juliana raised an eyebrow, daring him to challenge them both, he sighed. “All right,” he said. “But only a few hours.”

  As we stepped into the corridor a minute later, Mama bid us farewell, her eyes vague with exhaustion. She started away toward her room, and I moved to follow.

  “A moment, Rebecca,” William said.

  I turned back. From his crossed arms, I wagered I knew what he wanted to discuss. “Yes?”

  “You said you meant to tell us about your engagement, eventually. Can the same be said of your tendency to ride without a saddle?”

  “Ah,” I said. “Here I was, hoping you’d forgotten.”

  “Not a chance.” He shook his head. “I hardly know what to think, Rebecca. You insist that I trust you, that you are aware of your abilities, but then you do something like this that puts your safety in obvious question. Clearly, you haven’t been riding with a groom, or I would have heard of this, so—”

  “You are right.”

  He stopped midbreath, squinting at me. “What?”

  “You are right,” I said. “I haven’t been riding with a groom.”

  He dropped his arms. “Then you must understand my frustration. I only want to keep you safe.”

  “I do understand.” I spoke quietly. “As I hope you will understand when I explain.”

  He considered that a moment, then nodded for me to go on.

  “I haven’t been riding with a groom,” I began, “but that does not mean I’ve been riding alone.”

  “With who, then?” But his furrowed brow lifted almost immediately. “Lieutenant Avery.”

  “Yes,” I confirmed. “He has been watching me during my practice. We thought it the perfect arrangement since neither of us—” My voice caught. “In any case, I have tried to keep my promise to you. I took no unreasonable risks.”

  “Save for the very act of riding bareback.”

  “Which in and of itself is not terribly risky,” I countered. “In fact, I would argue it is safer than a sidesaddle, since it is much easier to slip off in the event that my mount spooks or rears.”

  He opened his mouth and then shut it. “All right,” he said. “Since I have no experience in either of those methods of riding, I shall have to concede that point.”

  I tried not to let my hope rise too much. A hit in our match did not mean I had won.

  “Please, William,” I said softly. “I did not ride bareback as a way to defy you or to rebel against any of your rules. I may have felt that at times, but that was not how it began. I only—” I exhaled. “I only wanted a chance to fly.”

  He stared at me, his face curiously pained. “And I have spent the last few years terrified of what would happen if you did,” he said softly. “I thought I had to be the one to catch you if you fell. I thought I was doing my duty, trying to keep you safe.” He shook his head. “Trying being the key word. But that is no longer my responsibility, and I should have given it up ages ago. You may not make decisions I agree with, but they are yours to make, not mine.”

  His words brought me a strange mixture of satisfaction and fear. For so long, I had wanted this—this acknowledgment that I was more than just a child to him. But he wa
s right. I was the one responsible for my decisions. And my decisions had consequences.

  “I can only hope that your Mr. Bainbridge can handle a wife such as you,” he said, lightening our conversation.

  I thumped him on the shoulder. “You would not wish me any different, admit it.”

  He chuckled and rubbed his shoulder as if I had actually hurt him. “Sometimes I imagine how simple it would be to have a timid and obliging sister.”

  “Then you realize it would be utterly boring?”

  “Precisely.”

  We grinned at each other, and although I still felt the turmoil of all that had happened in the last day, I could not help but count myself lucky. Even with so many unknowns before me, I had my family.

  I went to my room, bone weary, and fell onto my bed. I would be rather happy to lay here without moving for the rest of the day, but I needed to write Edward, tell him everything I’d learned. I ought to have been filled with blissful joy, knowing everything I wanted was finally within reach.

  Instead, all I felt was the emptiness that had claimed me since yesterday. Since Nicholas had learned the truth about me.

  I wrapped my arms around my knees. We had both made mistakes, Nicholas and I. The closer we’d grown, the more dangerous it had become, like gunpowder near a flame. And just like gunpowder, our lives had exploded.

  And they would never be the same.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I paced the entry, the cool evening light coloring everything shades of red and purple. I stopped at the window to check the road once again. He could not be late, not tonight.

  I had written Edward yesterday before I’d slept away the rest of the morning and told him everything, though I wished I could have done it in person. Now that it was all settled with Mama and William—well, more or less settled—I had a restless itch to see Edward again. Our reunion had been such a disaster that I felt as if I had lost some important part of our relationship. I wanted to reclaim the excitement from Brighton, find that smile he kept just for me.

  But I also did not want to test Mama’s newfound goodwill toward the Bainbridges, and leaving to see him so soon after Andrew’s birth would likely have done just that. In my letter, I’d explained what Mama had said about Papa and his father, telling him I thought it to be the whole truth. How might he react to learning what his father had done? Would he struggle as I had when I’d thought Papa to be in the wrong?

  But his note in return, delivered last evening, had held no hint of resentment or disagreement. Instead, he’d said that what I’d told him made a great deal of sense in light of what his mother had said over the past few weeks. She had no lack of bitterness against my parents, especially now that he had defied her to come to Havenfield.

  I rested one hand on the window beside the front door, still searching the empty road, my stomach twisted. I would have to face Mrs. Bainbridge eventually. She would be my mother-in-law, after all, no matter that she hated me. Perhaps in time, she would grow to like me. Or at least tolerate me.

  Finally, just before six o’clock, a horse and rider appeared at the end of the lane leading to the house. I breathed a sigh of relief as the footman went to the door. Edward was not late.

  When Edward stepped into the entry, he handed the footman his hat and gloves before spotting me and offering me a smile, though it held a touch of stiffness. We met in the center of the marble floor, where he bowed and I offered a curtsy.

  “I did not expect so lovely a welcome,” he said.

  “What sort of welcome did you imagine?”

  “Your brother with his dueling pistols certainly crossed my mind.”

  I let out a strangled sort of laugh. “I would not have put it past him two days ago.”

  Edward stepped closer, his dark brows furrowed. “I am sorry for forcing you through that. I was not thinking rationally.”

  “No matter,” I said with a false brightness. “What is done is done, and now we press forward. You must make an excellent impression tonight since you failed to do so upon your first meeting.”

  “I will try my best, I promise.”

  For a moment, it seemed as though he would lean forward and kiss me like he had all those weeks ago in the garden when he’d proposed. I froze.

  But instead, he cleared his throat and offered me his arm. “Shall we?”

  I took his arm, and he pulled me close to his side, with one hand on mine. But it did not feel the same as it once had, when we’d skirted the shadows at balls.

  But of course it does not feel the same, I reasoned as I led the way to the drawing room, where Mama and William waited. Things were different now. We were different. In time, we would settle into this new normal between us. But right now, we were simply unused to being together without hiding our true feelings.

  Once this evening was behind us, once Mama and William accepted Edward and he them, everything would be well.

  It had to be.

  Dinner was nearly as awkward as I’d imagined. Since Mama was determined to put the past behind us, she had insisted beforehand that there be no discussion of Mr. Bainbridge or Papa or anything to do with their pasts. But at least then we might have had something interesting to discuss. The uncomfortable silences that hung between comments on the food or weather were almost as unbearable as accusations of cheating might have been.

  When Mama and I rose to leave the men and retire to the drawing room, poor Edward sent me a look of such panic that I would have laughed if this all weren’t so serious. But William showed no intention of following us, clearly wishing for a word with Edward, so I had no choice but to trail behind Mama as she left the dining room.

  “What do you think William will say to him?” I asked, tugging up my gloves.

  “They won’t erupt in a round of fisticuffs, if that is what you are worrying about,” she replied as we started down the corridor. “I daresay your brother simply wishes to ensure Mr. Bainbridge is serious in his attachment to you before this all goes any further.”

  I glanced at the closed door behind us. What I wouldn’t give to eavesdrop on that conversation. But I trailed behind Mama as she swept into the drawing room and seated herself beside the fire.

  “Lady Rowley is with Juliana and the baby?” I asked as I sat across from her.

  She nodded. “She seemed pleased to have them to herself for the night. William hovers rather terribly, does he not?”

  “And it is only the start, I have no doubt.”

  We lapsed into silence again, the crackling of the flames far too loud in my ears. Mama and I had never lacked for words before this, but apparently, our ease of conversation was another casualty of my wretched secret-keeping.

  “I know it is likely too soon to pose this question,” I said, keeping my voice even and unaffected. Mostly. “But—”

  “But what do I think of young Mr. Bainbridge?”

  I nodded, watching her closely.

  She twisted her mouth to one side. “Truthfully, I expected to find some horrible flaw in him, considering his parentage.”

  “So you like him?”

  “That I cannot say yet.” She leaned back in her chair. “But I do not immediately dislike him, so I suppose that is a point in his favor.”

  “If he had been anyone else,” I said, “anyone but Mr. Bainbridge’s son, then would you like him?”

  Her expression sharpened. “I am trying, Rebecca, I promise. But this will take time, no matter how polite and charming your affianced may be.”

  “Ah,” I said with a ghost of smile. “Then you concede he is charming.”

  “Unfortunately, that is not the most important quality in a husband.”

  My throat pinched, and I tried to swallow against the sudden pain. Nicholas’s words came back to me from the night we had kissed, when he’d listed the qualities he wanted in a wife. That is
the sort of woman who could enchant me. The memory sent a shiver over my skin even though I sat before the fire.

  “Of course not,” I managed. “He has other admirable qualities that I know you will see in time.”

  She eyed me. “I hope so. I must admit that beyond my shock at your engagement, I was disappointed.”

  I sighed. “I know, Mama, and I am sor—”

  She waved me off. “That is not what I meant. I simply thought that perhaps you had begun to develop affection for another gentleman entirely.”

  I stared at the fire, the wisps of flame reaching out to lick the air only to retreat back a second later. “You mean Lieutenant Avery.”

  “Of course I do. The two of you get along so well, I could not help but hope. And just think, if he were to purchase Linwood Hall, you could live nearby.”

  “Mama.” I shook my head. “You must drive such a notion from your head. I am engaged to Edward, and I am perfectly happy as such.” My tongue felt dry. “In any case, I am afraid my relationship with the lieutenant is thoroughly ruined.”

  She stayed quiet a long moment. “Might I ask what happened between the two of you?” she finally asked. “I have my own guess, but I’d rather hear it from you.”

  I slumped back in my chair. “I made too many mistakes. That is what happened.”

  “I hardly think that could be the entirety of the problem,” she said. “Because if I do not miss my mark, Lieutenant Avery is quite in love with you.”

  “Mama!” I straightened and glanced at the open drawing room door. “You cannot say such things when Edward is here.”

  “But I am not wrong, am I?”

  My hands found the arms of my chair, something solid for me to ground myself. “I do not know. I—I think he may have had feelings for me . . . once. But surely not any longer.”

  “I sincerely doubt that,” she said. “I have enough experience with love to tell you it is not so easily abandoned.”

  I shook my head. “It does not matter one way or another.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because I am marrying Edward, regardless of Nicholas’s feelings.”