Otherwise Engaged

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Otherwise Engaged Page 28

by Joanna Barker


  “Rebecca?” He rubbed his face, and his confusion quickly turned to alarm. “What is it? Has something happened?”

  “No, nothing,” I said quickly. I hadn’t meant to panic him. But what else would he think with me arriving at his door at the break of dawn? “That is, I am sorry to have caused such worry. There is no great crisis.”

  Unless one could count what had happened in the meadow yesterday between Nicholas and me. Or perhaps the war in my head during the night. Or, of course, the fact that I was about to break his heart.

  He shook his head and closed the door behind him as he stepped into the corridor. He eyed my riding habit. “Did I forget we were to ride this morning?”

  “No, we never had decided.” I rubbed my boot along the smooth wooden floorboards.

  Edward crossed his arms. “What’s this about?”

  “I—” My voice failed. Every word I’d practiced last night flew from my mind with him standing there before me, concern creasing his handsome features. I should have written a letter instead.

  But he deserved more than a letter. He deserved knowing that this was the hardest decision of my life. I clasped my hands together and looked him square in the eyes. “I have thought all night about what I could say to you, how to explain. But the only thing I can do is be honest with you. Straightforward.”

  “What do you mean?” Edward moved forward as if he couldn’t quite hear me.

  My throat constricted. “I am so sorry, Edward, but I cannot marry you.”

  For a moment, he did not react, as if I’d just made a comment on the weather. Then his chin drew back. “Pardon?” was all he managed.

  “I am sorry,” I said again, too fast, my voice high. “I hate so much that I must do this to you after all we’ve been through.”

  He shook his head. “I do not understand, Rebecca. How—?” He stopped, dropping his hands to his sides. “Why?”

  This was the part I had most dreaded. Because I was determined to be honest.

  “I do not love you as I should,” I said softly. “I am not the person you thought I was when you proposed, and you deserve a better wife than me.”

  “What on earth do you mean?”

  I shook my head, my eyes beginning to sting from holding back a barrage of tears. “I never meant for it to happen, I swear. I thought I was being faithful and true, but under it all, I was nothing but deceitful and unkind.”

  “Rebecca.” He took my arms, his gentle hands warm through the fabric of my sleeves. “Just tell me.”

  I could put it off no longer. “I fell in love with someone else,” I whispered.

  He was quiet for a long minute. “It is that lieutenant. Isn’t it?”

  I could only nod, my chest so tight I wondered if I would ever breathe again.

  Edward stared at me in disbelief. To my utter shock, the tension in his face eased, the lines around his eyes vanished, and then . . .

  Then he laughed. He laughed as if I had said the funniest thing he had ever heard, and I gaped at him.

  “Thunder and turf,” he finally managed, his grin split wide. “Are you serious, Rebecca? You do not want to marry me? At all?”

  “Are you all right, Edward?” Had our broken engagement sent him spiraling into madness?

  “I am perfectly well.” He took my hands in his. “Better than I’ve been in weeks.” His expression did not hold a craze that might have doomed him to an asylum. Instead, he looked more alive than I’d seen him since Brighton.

  “I have a confession of my own to make,” he said, squeezing my hands. “I also have fallen in love with someone else.”

  It was my turn to stare. “You have? But who?”

  His face softened. “Someone I would never have spent so much time with, save for her aid in keeping our secret.”

  Thoughts in my head connected so quickly that I gasped. “Marjorie? You are in love with Marjorie?”

  He nodded, sobering. “Like you, it was never my intention. But when we would meet to exchange our letters, I could not help but notice her, her sweetness of character, her steadiness, her beauty.” He hesitated. “I mean this as no reflection of you, Rebecca, but there is something with Marjorie that I have never felt with you.”

  “And does . . . ?” I hesitated. “Does Marjorie feel the same?”

  I tried to imagine it, Marjorie and Edward secretly exchanging letters over the weeks, falling in love though they knew it was hopeless. Marjorie, my kind and generous friend.

  Edward released my hands and stepped back. “We never spoke of it, but I am certain she does. What could I say to her when you and I were engaged?”

  “But you . . .” I shook my head. “But you came to Havenfield. You would have married me in spite of your feelings?”

  He squinted at me. “When my mother found Marjorie and me together, I was forced to face the reality I’d been hiding from. I’d promised to marry you when I proposed. How could I abandon you?”

  Then the full truth of everything he’d said sank into me. He did not love me. Or, at least, not as much as he loved Marjorie. He did not want to marry me. I could never have imagined the relief and joy such a realization brought to me.

  I could not stop my own laugh that burst from my mouth. “Heavens,” I managed. “We are quite the mess, aren’t we?”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “Nearly from the beginning. But I daresay that is the folly of a rushed courtship. We did not have time to realize we would not suit each other in marriage. You are more . . .” He paused. “Spirited than I’d imagined my wife to be.”

  I shook my head. “I thought as much.”

  Edward’s smile faded. “I do wish you to know that I care for you, Rebecca. You must know that. And I do think we might have been happy with each other once our families reconciled.”

  “I am not at all certain of that,” I said. “You and I are very different, and your mother would never have forgiven me for marrying you.”

  He chuckled. “You might be right.”

  I set my hand on his arm. “But I understand. I want only happiness for you and for Marjorie.”

  “If she’ll have me, that is.”

  “She would be out of her wits to turn away such a man as you,” I said, squeezing his arm. “Only I am foolish enough to do that.”

  He leaned forward slightly. “Imagine if you’d never said anything. We would have married, both thinking the other still in love.”

  “Now you have your chance, Edward. You must go to Marjorie immediately.”

  His shoulders straightened. “I will,” he said. “As for you, I must hope this lieutenant can match your zeal for life.”

  I thought of Nicholas goading me to jump the hedge, teaching me to shoot, and kissing me breathless in the meadow. “He might outmatch me in that regard,” I said softly. “Though it hardly matters.”

  “Why is that?”

  I shook my head. My troubles were not his.

  “Rebecca.” Edward tipped his head to one side. “Please. Tell me what is bothering you.”

  I shifted my weight. “Edward, you have seen more of me than most. You know my flaws and my oddities. And now you know the worst of me. You cannot think I would make any man a good wife.”

  He scrutinized me. “Of course I think that. I would not have proposed if I’d thought otherwise.”

  I hesitated. “But what of . . . ?”

  His eyes focused on me for a long moment. “I think I understand. May I venture a guess that you are feeling rather unworthy of happiness after all that happened?”

  “We were engaged, Edward,” I said in a sudden rush. “I should never have fallen in love with someone else, even if you and I were ill-suited.”

  His expression softened. “You are thinking about this all wrong, Rebecca. You forget that even the most well-intentioned people make mis
takes. Ours was leaping too quickly into an engagement. But does that mean that neither of us deserves the futures we long for with those we love?”

  I did think that. Or, I had. But now, with him looking at me so kindly, not judging me in the least for what I considered the greatest error of my life, I began to reconsider. He had made the same mistake, after all.

  And I could not help but think of my father. He’d made numerous mistakes, ones that had led to the feud between our family and the Bainbridges. Yet I could not bring myself to think him a terrible person. He’d made efforts to change, to never make the same bad decisions. He was my father, and I still loved him.

  “Please,” Edward said softly. “Please know you are worthy of happiness, as much as anyone.”

  “I . . .” I swallowed. “I want to believe that.”

  “I hope you change your mind. I could not bear to think you let your chance slip you by.”

  I nodded, though my mind still teetered on the cliff of indecision. “Thank you, Edward. Am I right to suspect you will be leaving for Brighton immediately?”

  “As soon as I can pack.”

  “Then I shall give you my farewell now. I wish you all the best in life and in love.”

  He took me in his arms for just a moment, a quick embrace that reminded me of all the good between us—our laughter and conversations, his kindness and goodwill. Then he released me and stepped back.

  “Goodbye, Rebecca.” He gave a smile and slipped back inside his room. I slowly made my way back down the passage, my arms wrapped around me. Even the most well-intentioned people make mistakes, Edward had said. I’d certainly made my fair share.

  Nicholas had seen me at my worst and my best. He knew the choices and blunders I’d made. He’d seen all of this, and he loved me despite it all, despite the fact that I would never be the perfect Society wife or mother. Because—and it was just striking me now—because he had never wanted that. He never expected it of me. He only wanted me and all the flaws that came with me.

  “Rebecca.”

  My head jerked up. Mama stood in her open door, staring at me as she held her dressing gown around her. Oh dear. Though Edward’s room was far from mine, it was quite close to Mama’s.

  “Mama,” I said. “I did not know you were awake.” How much had she overheard?

  “Oh, Rebecca,” she said again, stepping to me and folding me in her arms. Ah. She’d heard enough.

  Her warm arms around me were enough to wear down my last reserves of resistance, and I closed my eyes against the tears.

  “I knew you had feelings for Lieutenant Avery,” she whispered in my ear. “But I had no idea you tortured yourself because of them.”

  “I cannot help it,” I said, my voice muffled in her shoulder. “I have a wandering heart, and any good man deserves far better than that.” As I said it, Edward’s words continued to parade through my mind. Know you are worthy of happiness, as much as anyone.

  Mama stayed quiet for a while as her hands rubbed comforting circles across my back. “Did you love Edward Bainbridge?” she asked.

  “No.” The answer came easily to me now. “At least, not the way I love Nicholas.”

  “That should be answer enough.” Mama pulled back and raised my chin with her fingers. “Your heart finally found what it has been searching for. Now you must be true to that love. I have no doubt it will be enough.”

  My pulse skipped faster. “Even after everything that has happened between us?”

  “Especially after,” she insisted, taking my hands. “Love is not so easily frightened away, and yours has been tested more than most.”

  The morning light filled the corridor, reminding me that Nicholas could be leaving Linwood Hall at any moment. Yet trepidation filled me. We had not left each other on good terms yesterday. He would not have changed his mind, would he?

  “Do not tell me you are hesitating now,” Mama said with a hint of reproach in her voice. “I saw how he looked at you at church. He is more in love with you than ever.”

  I took a deep breath, then gave a swift nod. Now was not the time for doubts and second guesses. Now was the time to embrace my future and the golden happiness it promised, like a light in a storm.

  “Off with you,” she said. “If you hurry, you might stop your lieutenant before he leaves.”

  My lieutenant. The words had never sounded so perfect, so right. Because I wanted nothing more than for Nicholas to be mine and for me to be his.

  Hope rose inside me like the full moon, and I threw my arms around Mama yet again. Then I spun and darted away, her warm laugh filling my ears. I clattered down the stairs to the surprise of two maids at the bottom, who squeaked as they ducked out of my way. I bid them a hasty apology as I darted past, not able to stop my feet if I tried.

  A minute later, I was atop Stella, flying down the road, her hooves echoing the beating of my heart.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The sun peeked over the distant hill, and I cursed it. How dare it show its face when I was still a mile from Linwood Hall. But surely, Nicholas was still preparing to leave, packing his things and ensuring his horse was properly saddled for his long journey. I could not let myself believe otherwise.

  When we reached the lane that led to Linwood, I did not slow Stella. The windows of the house were dark, the surrounding land quiet. Did that mean Nicholas was still here? Or the opposite?

  I pulled Stella to a stop as the front door opened. A footman emerged and bowed, unsuccessfully hiding his surprise at my unexpected arrival. It was far too early for visitors, especially ones riding without saddles.

  “Lieutenant Avery,” I said breathlessly as Stella’s hooves danced beneath me. “Is he here?”

  My words seemed to snap the footman back to attention. “Er, no, Miss Rowley. He left for Portsmouth.”

  Gone. I closed my eyes, my hope sinking into the ground far below me. I’d missed him. All because of my foolish inadequacies.

  “Are you all right, miss?” Concern filled the footman’s voice. He likely thought me about to faint.

  “Fine,” I said vaguely. “Fine.”

  “It is a pity you did not arrive a few minutes ago, or you might have caught him.”

  His words did not register for a long moment, but then I tore my eyes open and stared at him. “A few minutes?”

  “Yes,” he said, rather oblivious to the fact that he held my future in his next few words. “He departed not ten minutes past.”

  My stomach leapt with a dizzying jolt. “Which way did he go?” I demanded. “What road?”

  The poor footman now looked rather alarmed. “South, miss. He went south.”

  I did not wait another second as I wheeled Stella about and kicked her forward. I could hear nothing but hooves beating the ground, my pulse racing in my ears. I had to find him. I had to.

  The countryside flew past in a blur of greens and browns. We crossed a short wooden bridge over a dried-up stream, the thundering of hooves against wood hollow in my ears.

  I rode hard, my vision focused on the farthest stretch of road I could see. Where was he? Had he changed his mind and taken another road? Or had the footman been mistaken in his timing?

  Desperation grasped at me, tearing my heart to pieces inside of me as I whispered encouragement to Stella. She was not used to running for such long distances; she was far more suited to the sprints of racetracks and leisurely country rides. Her golden coat gleamed with sweat, her lungs heaving, but she did not slow, did not hesitate to give me her everything.

  And then . . .

  I saw a shadow in the distance, beneath a line of trees that ran alongside the road. I rose up, peering so hard my vision blurred. A figure on horseback. Was it him?

  “Nicholas!” I could not tell if he heard me, but I pushed Stella faster, faster. “Nicholas!”

  Th
en I could see him. He turned at my shout, reining in his mount and staring back at me. I was too far away to see the details of his face, but I could easily imagine the surprise taking hold, his eyes wide.

  I slowed Stella to a trot when we were still a ways off. My mouth went dry, my hands grasping tightly to Stella’s mane. I hadn’t allowed myself to imagine this conversation, so focused had I been on Edward.

  Nicholas did not greet me as we drew closer, only scrutinized me with narrowed eyes. A man should not be allowed to be so handsome. His light hair was untidy beneath his hat, and he sat with a rigid posture that I assumed came from a lifetime of naval service.

  I stopped Stella when we were but a few steps away, and suddenly, I could not look at him. There was too much between us, too much that whispered of hope and broken dreams and desire. I stared instead at his mount, the bay hunter I’d first seen that day at the lake. The day all of this had begun.

  “I . . .” I stopped and cleared my throat. “I went to Linwood, but you’d already left.”

  Silence, broken only by the murmur of the wind and my own ragged breaths.

  “Why are you here, Rebecca?” he asked finally, his voice guarded. But when he said my name, I could not help the warmth that spread inside me as though I’d taken a sip of too-hot tea.

  I dismounted smoothly, then rested one hand on Stella’s neck. “I could not let you leave,” I said. “Not after yesterday.”

  “If you’ve come with another offer of friendship, I have no interest in it.” He spoke without emotion, as if this conversation were simply something to endure before continuing on his way.

  “You misunderstand me.” I stepped closer, and Stella snorted behind me. “I did not chase you halfway across the county simply to offer my friendship.”

  He squinted, sending lines from the corners of his eyes across his tanned skin. For a moment, it seemed like he was tempted to smile at my ridiculous exaggeration, but instead, he shook his head and dismounted, leading his horse nearer to me. “Then what is it, Rebecca? Because I should like to be on my way if I am to make any amount of distance by nightfall.”

 

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