The Bride of Ivy Green

by Julie Klassen

  A rooster crowed in the distance, and Gabriel opened his eyes. He blinked and blinked again, as though having difficulty focusing. He mumbled, “Why do I feel so groggy?”

  “Dr. Burton gave you laudanum for the pain.”

  He frowned, dark brows bunching. “I can’t feel my legs. Are they broken?”

  Jane’s heart raced. Would the paralysis last? She replied evenly, “Dr. Burton doesn’t think so.”

  “Then why can’t I move them?”

  Jane bit her lip. She longed to reassure him, but she knew Gabriel would want the truth. “He says you’ve likely injured your spine.”

  “God have mercy. I am paralyzed?”

  She chose her words carefully. “He said when the swelling abates and your body heals you will most likely regain the use of your legs.”

  “Most likely? Not a certainty?”

  “It is too soon to tell, but he didn’t seem overly concerned. He had several other patients to see, but he will return as soon as possible. I’m sure he will answer your questions then.”

  She added, “And you will be glad to know that your new horse has been found and returned, thanks to Walter Talbot and his men.”

  “How is Spirit?”

  “He’ll be all right. Talbot treated a bite wound and will ask Tom Fuller to come out, although you will no doubt want to look at it yourself . . . when you can.”

  He tried to shift his upper body. “I should go see him now.”

  She laid a restraining hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about your horse. He is in better condition than you are at present.” She managed a grin.

  Gabriel didn’t return it. “And the dashed dog?”

  “Disappeared. Talbot suspects the creature is the same one responsible for an attack on his sheep a few months ago.”

  Gabriel frowned and averted his gaze. “What foul timing. This is what I get for thinking I could tame that horse when others failed.”

  “Oh, you will tame him yet. I don’t doubt that for an instant. You could not have foreseen an attack by a wild dog.”

  They fell silent for several moments. The exertion of cheerful banter wearied her.

  She squeezed his hand. “I am just so thankful you’re alive.”

  That evening after dinner, Rachel sat in the drawing room, reading the next book to be discussed at the library while Justina idly played a few halfhearted measures on the pianoforte.

  When her mother-in-law joined them, Rachel glanced conspiratorially at Justina, then began, “I have been thinking, Lady Barbara, and you are right. A dinner with Nicholas Ashford as our sole guest would not be quite the thing.”

  “I am glad you agree.”

  Rachel nodded. “I think, instead of dinner, a house party would be far superior.”

  “A house party?” Her mother-in-law’s face lengthened in dismay.

  “Yes, we would invite Sir Cyril and his sisters, Miss Bingley, her brother, and Mr. Ashford. And of course, Timothy and I would act as chaperones.”

  “Oh yes, I long for a house party,” Justina cooed.

  Rachel went on. “Most of the time Justina has spent with Sir Cyril has been in formal occasions, family dinners, and the concert. Not exactly conducive to fostering closer acquaintance or affection. I think that is part of the reason she remains undecided. She has had insufficient interaction to truly sketch the man’s character. But a few days together, with diversions and dancing? Time to stroll the grounds and talk at their leisure, even steal a few minutes alone in the garden . . . ? I think it would do her a world of good. Help her compare and contrast the qualities of the eligible men in the area.”

  “Oh yes, Mamma,” Justina enthused. “I think it an excellent idea.”

  “I see your point,” Lady Barbara allowed, “and approve of the plan, except for the guest list. Why include Nicholas Ashford?”

  “We must have enough young men to even our numbers,” Rachel replied. “Even with him, we are short one man.”

  The dowager considered. “Perhaps we could invite Richard to come home for the party.” She frowned. “Though I doubt he will accept.”

  “Oh, I wish Richard would come,” Justina said. “I haven’t seen him since my London season.”

  Lady Barbara narrowed her eyes in thought. “What a boon if he might take an interest in Arabella Awdry. Although she might be reluctant to consider another Brockwell after her recent disappointment with Timothy.”

  Rachel and Justina exchanged a look at that, but Rachel said only, “Well, we can invite Richard and see what happens.”

  After dinner that evening, Rachel shared the plan with Timothy as they crossed the hall together. “And as the lone married couple, we would act the part of chaperones.” She grinned ruefully. “How matronly that makes me feel!”

  “You look anything but matronly to me, dear wife.” In the quiet passage, he wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck. “You look altogether enticing, truth be told.”

  Hearing two maids chatting as they came around the corner, Rachel whispered, “I don’t think this is the best place, my love.”

  “I quite agree.” He took her hand and led her upstairs.

  The following morning, Dr. Burton returned to reexamine Gabriel. Tom Fuller arrived about the same time to look at the injured horse’s leg, so Jane went out to thank him, knowing Gabriel would want a report on Spirit’s recovery.

  When she returned to the farmhouse, Dr. Burton had already left, but Gabriel relayed his report, which repeated much of what he’d told her initially. It was too soon to know for sure, given the mysterious nature of the spinal cord, but Dr. Burton was as confident as he could be that Gabriel would regain the use of his legs.

  Eager to encourage him, Jane said, “Tom Fuller has just been here. You will be glad to know he thinks Spirit will heal thoroughly and the wound will leave no lasting damage.”

  “At least physically,” Gabriel added with a grimace. “Poor creature. It will take months to regain his trust. I can’t believe I lost control of him. I haven’t fallen from a horse in years.”

  “Well, your fall knocked some sense into me.”

  He looked at her warily. “You? What do you mean?”

  Remembering her fear and regret when he lay there unresponsive, Jane’s throat tightened all over again. She whispered hoarsely, “Gabriel, will you marry me?”

  He gingerly turned more fully toward her, grimacing in pain as he did so.

  “Jane, don’t ask out of pity. Let’s wait and see what happens. If I am able to walk and regain my strength, then we’ll—”

  “No!” she exclaimed, leaning forward till her knees touched the bed. “When you lay there, unmoving, I feared I’d lost you. Everything became clear to me. I love you, Gabriel Locke, more than I’ve ever loved anyone. And I am so sorry I’ve put you off, that I let fear hold me back.” She squeezed his hand. “No more. I don’t want to wait any longer.”

  “Jane.” He shook his head. “Yes, you let fear hold you back, but don’t make a rash decision now to accept me out of another kind of fear.”

  “I don’t want to marry you because I’m afraid to lose you. I want to marry you because I love you with all my heart and don’t want to waste any more time. Life is precious and short, as I know from experience.”

  “Jane, slow down. Take time to consider. If the worst happens and I am unable to walk, that means it’s highly unlikely that working with horses is in my future. I would have to sell the farm. Find some . . . alternate profession. Something at a desk, which I would not relish. There are not a lot of jobs like that in Ivy Hill.”

  “The worst did not happen. You are alive and here with me. And as far as giving up horses, let’s not worry about that until we must. Remember, Dr. Burton is quite certain this”—she gestured to his blanket-covered legs—“is only temporary.”

  “But if it’s not . . . Jane, I would not blame you if you had second thoughts.”

  Indignation flashed through her. She released his h
and and straightened in her chair. “Gabriel Locke, you expect me to believe you have no reservations about marrying me with my physical limitations, yet you dare suggest I would reject you because of yours?”

  He held her gaze, and a slow grin warmed his somber expression. “Touché, Jane Bell. Touché.”

  She released a tense breath, then teased, “In fact, I rather like the idea of you having a limp or something, so I am not the only one in this union with a physical flaw.”

  “You are perfect as you are, Jane. As I’ve told you countless times.”

  “And so are you, regardless of the outcome.” She rose and leaned over the bed, bringing her mouth to his in a sweet, lingering kiss.

  chapter

  Twelve

  Later that morning, Thora and Talbot brought over their trusted maid, Sadie Jones, to help Gabriel convalesce, since the woman had been such a capable nurse to Nan Talbot. Thora quieted Gabriel’s protests, assuring him they could spare her and that Sadie was happy to help.

  While they were there, Jane shared the news of their engagement. Talbot shook Gabriel’s hand, and Thora embraced her. “I am so happy for you, Jane,” she whispered. “For you both. Truly.”

  Then, confident Gabriel was in good hands, Jane returned to The Bell. She reassured the staff who gathered around her that Gabriel would be all right, thanked them for their concern, and gently urged them to return to work. She admonished herself in similar fashion. After all, she had been the one to insist she had a business of her own to manage, yet she had fallen behind on several overdue tasks. Time to get to work, Jane, she told herself, already planning to ride back out to the farm that night to see her intended.

  When Jane visited Gabriel again that evening, she found his condition unchanged. She helped Susie tidy the kitchen and relieved Sadie for an hour, sitting with Gabriel while he alternately talked and slept.

  The next day, James Drake came to the inn to see her. “Jane, I was sorry to hear about Mr. Locke’s accident. Will he be all right?”

  “We are praying so. Dr. Burton predicts a full recovery.”

  “That is good news.”

  Jane hesitated. She didn’t relish saying the words to this particular man. “Speaking of good news, I would like to share mine. Mr. Locke and I are engaged to be married.”

  A shadow curtained his face and quickly cleared. “Ah.” He gave her a small smile. “Then allow me to congratulate you both. I wish you happy, Jane. I sincerely do.”

  “Thank you. I hope I may have the opportunity to wish you happy one day as well.”

  He looked down, rocking back on his heels. “Oh, I think my chance at happiness, at least romantically speaking, has passed me by.”

  “James, no. Don’t say that.”

  “Never fear. I am far happier with Alice in my life than I deserve to be. I doubt I am very good at being a father, but I am striving to rise to the occasion and make her happy.”

  “You don’t need to strive to earn her affection and make her happy. Just be yourself and she will love you.”

  James shrugged, sloughing off the idea like itchy wool. “I never liked that admonition. Just be myself—which one? The self-centered, ambitious self? The resentful son, estranged from his own father and fearful of becoming just like him? I want Alice to have a better father than I had, a happier childhood.”

  Jane laid a hand on his sleeve. “Then you’re well on your way to becoming a good parent already.” She squeezed his arm and released him. “But I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. I’d say you turned out remarkably well.”

  He ducked his head, then looked up at her. “But not well enough to earn your favor.”

  “James—”

  He held up his hand. “No, Jane. You made the right decision. I don’t know Mr. Locke well, but by all accounts, he’s an excellent fellow. He will make you far happier than I ever could have.” His eyes glimmered with humorous resignation.

  “Thank you.” It was all she could think to say.

  He cleared his throat, then crossed his arms and looked up in thought. “Would you like to marry from the Fairmont? You would be very welcome. I don’t offer with any thought of profit for myself. It simply occurred to me that you might like to hold your wedding breakfast in your old home.”

  “That is very kind of you. Truly. And it would certainly be a more elegant setting than the one I have in mind. But I would like my wedding breakfast to be here at The Bell. If the weather is fine, we might extend out into the courtyard as we did during the party Thora and the others gave me when I acquired my license. Otherwise we shall all squeeze into the dining parlour instead.”

  He smiled. “Are you not glad you heeded my advice to expand that room?”

  “I am indeed. I am glad of so many things where you are concerned, especially that we have become friends. I hope that will remain the case . . . ?”

  “I hope so too,” he said, but he did not look convinced.

  Not long after James left, Mercy and Rachel came to call on Jane, having heard the news of Gabriel’s accident. The three sat in the office together, her old friends expressing their concern and asking if there was anything they could do to help.

  “Nothing besides pray.”

  “What does Dr. Burton say?” Rachel asked.

  “That he has every confidence in Gabriel’s full recovery.”

  Mercy asked gently, “And if he is wrong?”

  “Then we will deal with that possibility if and when the time comes.”

  “What does Gabriel think?”

  “He wants to wait until he is walking again to set the date.”

  “Set the date?” Rachel echoed. “Does that mean you’ve accepted him at last?”

  “Yes. In fact, I asked him to marry me.” Jane shook her head. “I still dread another miscarriage, but I love him, and I’m through waiting. He is to be my husband, and I don’t want to have to leave him at night with only a maid or chamber nurse to care for him.”

  Mercy nodded. “Understandable. You know, we still have my grandfather’s wheeled chair in our attic. He could use that to move around . . . for now.”

  “Thank you. I will ask him about the chair. And thank you both for your concern.”

  Rachel squeezed her hand and repeated, “You will let us know if there is anything we can do?”

  Jane nodded. “I shall.”

  Jane went to visit Gabriel again the next evening, bringing him a book from the library.

  She said, “Rachel and Mercy send along their prayers and congratulations.”

  “Thank them for me.”

  “How soon shall we marry?” Jane asked. “Mr. Paley needs a week’s notice, then he’ll begin publishing the banns. So probably four weeks from now, at the earliest. Though a few months might give us more time to—”

  “Let’s wait to set the date until I am walking again.”

  Jane shook her head. “Gabriel, we’ve been through this. I don’t want to wait.”

  “How will you marry me when I am stuck in this bed?”

  “Don’t be stubborn, my love. Mercy has offered us the use of her grandfather’s wheeled chair.”

  “How romantic.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to sit in a chair. I want to stand beside you in church like a man.”

  “You are a man. My man—standing or not. And before the summer is out, I will vow to love and honor you in front of all my friends and neighbors. Talbot and your men will deliver you and the chair to church, where I shall be awaiting you, looking charming in my lavender gown and new bonnet.”

  He crossed his arms, lower lip protruded, and for a moment he looked like a petulant little boy. “I don’t want an invalid chair,” he repeated. “And I don’t want you to marry an invalid.”

  She put her hand on her hips. “Good thing it’s my decision, then, and not yours.”

  He tilted his head to the side as a thought struck him. “Why would you not order a new gown? If things at The Bell are tight financially, I ca
n—”

  “No. I just don’t think I need one. It’s hardly what’s important right now, considering everything else that’s going on.”

  “But what about your new friend the dressmaker?”

  “To tell you the truth, I think she has all she can manage with a gown for Justina Brockwell.” She shrugged. “Besides, I like my lavender gown.”

  Jane stepped to the side table and filled his water glass. “By the way, I think we should hire Mrs. Mullins to put you through the same course of massage and exercise that helped her husband.”

  “I don’t know, Jane. I don’t want to raise false hopes. Just because it worked for Mullins doesn’t mean it will work for me. What has Dr. Burton said about it?”

  She returned to his bedside. “He agrees it may help your legs and back but said it will do nothing to cure your stubbornness.”

  His dark eyes glinted. “No? And what does he suggest for that ailment?”

  Jane leaned near and pressed a kiss to his mouth.

  Gabriel kissed her back, then murmured, “Mmm . . . very effective indeed.”

  Mercy visited the almshouse to talk to Mrs. Mennell and see what she could do to be of use there. Mostly, she wanted an excuse to get out of the house for a while.

  When she returned to Ivy Cottage an hour later, she slipped through the side door into the library and headed toward the stairs.

  As she passed the double doors, she overheard her sister-in-law and brother talking within the drawing room.

  Helena’s falsely sweet voice reached her ears. “How pleasant to have a few moments to ourselves, my love. This quiet is blessed relief after so much female chatter, as I am sure you agree. Your aunt is certainly . . . loquacious. They are both dears, of course, but I never imagined myself living with a cluster of spinsters.”

  “I hardly think two amounts to a cluster.”

  “You forget the cook and maids, my dear. But you are right, of course. At least we haven’t a gaggle of schoolgirls to contend with as well.”

  “True.”

  “I wonder why your parents tolerated the school for so long,” Helena added. “Did Mercy need the funds so desperately?”