by Cheryl Bolen
The study door, swollen over time, flew open with a scrape and loud crack. Ammie and Phillip jumped apart. Her father stood in the threshold, frowning at the doorframe. “I thought Robbie repaired this.”
Her mother clicked her tongue and waved away his concern as she slipped past him to enter the room. Phillip stood.
“It is an old house. What more can be done?” Mama smiled when she spotted Ammie and Phillip together. “Good morning daughter, Major Rowland.”
“Good morning,” Ammie and Phillip mumbled in unison. Mama was unusually cheerful, and Ammie hated to spoil her pleasant mood.
Her mother sat in her father’s chair behind his desk and folded her hands on the surface. “Let’s get on with it, shall we? I have much to do and little time to spare.”
Ammie and Phillip exchanged a look. His perplexed expression mirrored her state of mind. Ammie cleared her throat. “Get on with what, Mama?”
“The reason you requested a meeting, of course.”
Ammie’s father came to stand behind her mother and rested his hands on her shoulders.
“I assume you’ve reached a compromise regarding Mr. Perkins, one that is pleasing to both parties,” Mama said.
“Um...” Ammie stumbled over her words, starting and stopping a couple of times. Her stomach twisted in knots.
“We have.” Phillip’s voice was strong, his bearing confident. He offered his hand to Ammie and murmured, “We stand together, always.”
His reassuring smile bolstered her courage. She placed her hand in his and they approached the desk together. Neither of them released each other when they stopped to stand in front of her parents to accept their judgment.
“Ambrosia and I are in love.” Phillip squeezed her hand; she held on tightly. “We wish to marry.”
Her mother’s face lit up. “Bravo, Major Rowland!”
“An excellent compromise, indeed,” her father added and flashed a rare smile. “Exactly what we had hoped.”
“I-I do not understand,” Phillip said.
Ammie frowned. “Neither do I. Mama has been disapproving of Phillip since he arrived.”
Her father leaned forward to squeeze her mother’s shoulders. “A marvelous performance, Lady Seabrook. I knew you had it in you.”
“It is good my best efforts bore fruit, and quickly. I expected the major to be a tougher nut to crack.”
Ammie’s parents kept up their side conversation, ignoring her and Phillip, until Ammie slapped her hand on the desktop. Her parents flinched then stared as if she had lost her mind. “For heaven’s sake, would one of you tell us what is happening? Are you saying you approved of Phillip all along?”
Her mother smirked. “Why would we disapprove of the major? His family is well regarded, his reputation is above reproach, and his yearly income is more than adequate to support a wife. Do you think it is easy to find a suitor who loves dogs as much as you do? You cannot imagine our relief when Lord Grandstern wrote to inform us the dog you’d found belonged to the major and suggested a marriage match to resolve the situation.”
“My father arranged for the coach to leave without me,” Phillip murmured. “I should have known he had a hand in me becoming stranded.”
Papa puffed out his chest. “Your father does not deserve all the credit. It was not an easy task riding into the village to hire out all the travel coaches before you set off.”
“Lord Seabrook is not an early riser,” Mama said.
Good heavens! The lengths her parents had gone to in order to orchestrate this entire affair... They had practically trapped Phillip into marrying her.
Ammie swayed on her feet as a wave of nausea swept through her. Would Phillip believe she was ignorant of the scheme or blame her for manipulating him?
His arm circled her waist. “Come sit before you fall.”
She leaned on him, allowing him to help her to the chair closest to the desk. He lowered her gently when her shaky legs buckled. She couldn’t meet his gaze. He perched on the armrest and draped his arm along the back.
“Please allow me to offer my gratitude,” he said. “I never would have found her without your intervention.”
Ammie jerked her head up. He smiled down at her. Her humiliation lessened.
“As I said before, my lord, we are in love and wish to be together forever. Ambrosia has accepted my proposal and now I must humbly ask for your blessing. Will you grant your daughter’s hand in marriage?”
“Gladly, but we must hear her say that she has chosen you. You’ve done most of the talking thus far.” Both of her parents looked to her in askance.
Ammie blinked, still in a slight daze from lack of sleep and shock. “Yes, of course. I choose Phillip.”
“Splendid.” Her father started toward Phillip to offer congratulations, but her mother grabbed his arm to stop him.
“Let’s not be hasty, Lord Seabrook. There are still a couple of conditions Major Rowland must agree to before you grant permission.”
“Mama,” Ammie protested, but Phillip reassured her that he would agree to whatever conditions they felt were necessary to ensure her happiness.
“Firstly,” her mother said, “we’d not like to see our daughter become a young widow or abandoned when you are called to duty. Therefore, you must sell your commission and settle into the business of being a husband.”
“Is this condition my father’s doing? No, do not answer. It doesn’t matter. I have already decided to sell my commission. Ambrosia and I have discussed breeding spaniels and training them, and she will continue writing her stories.”
Ammie’s mother clapped her hands in a rare show of delight. “Oh, how lovely! He really was the perfect choice, Seabrook.”
“Yes, marchioness. Your judgment was spot on,” her father said before addressing Phillip. “I expect the next condition will be easy enough to fulfill. It is important that Ammie and her sister Laurel are not too far from one another. They have a special bond. Therefore, we are gifting the lake cottage and twelve acres to Ammie.”
She gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.
“After the wedding,” Papa said, “you may set up house and make use of the land for your new venture.”
Phillip turned to her. “What do you say, love? Should we make the cottage our home?”
Ammie nodded, her eyes misting with tears of happiness. “The cottage used to be my favorite place in the world.”
“What, don’t you like it anymore?”
“I love the cottage”—she reached to cup his cheek, her heart overflowing with tenderness for this wonderful man she adored—“but my favorite place will always be with you.”
* * *
The next few days Ammie’s mother was high on the ropes planning Ammie and Phillip’s wedding. Her older sister’s husband, being the local parish clergyman, had granted them a common license to marry and would perform the ceremony Christmas morning. By the night of the Christmas ball, the newlywed couple would be presented to the guests. Her mother was beside herself with excitement to have another daughter making a love match.
“I knew Major Rowland was the perfect choice,” she crowed as she dipped her spoon into an eggcup.
Ammie was partaking in her last breakfast as an unmarried woman. She was happy to have this time alone with her mother and four sisters while Phillip and Papa were away inspecting minor repairs being made to the cottage.
“Did you, Mama?” Ammie asked. “As I recall, you were uncommonly rude to him.”
Her mother covered her heart as if wounded. “I told you it was all an act.”
“Yes,” Laurel said from her place across from Ammie, “but you never explained the reason for the charade.”
Mama pursed her lips and sniffed. “What kind of parents would we be if we forced any of our beloved children into a marriage he or she didn’t want? You, of all people, should understand perfectly.”
“I will never hear the end of it, will I?” Laurel looked toward the ceiling as if appeal
ing for help from above and stuffed a piece of bread into her mouth. Despite her grumbling, Ammie’s twin was very grateful to their parents.
When Laurel had finally gathered the courage to tell Mama and Papa she didn’t fancy any of the bachelors they had invited to the party, their parents had surprised her. They had been understanding and reassured her that she needn’t rush into a decision. Laurel would be allowed another Season to search for the right man who would keep her happy.
“Besides,” Mama said, “the Earl of Grandstern advised us not to say anything to lead the major to believe he was a candidate. He thought it best to allow Major Rowland and Ammie to decide if they suited one another without our interference. Your father and I agreed.”
Octavia snorted. “You and Papa arranged an all day outing for the two of them and made them believe a marriage between them was forbidden. If that is not interference, what would you call it?”
“Assistance,” Mama snipped. “Every relationship could use a little nudge in the beginning.”
Mercedes, who sat next to their mother, chuckled and patted her hand. “Don’t listen to any of them, Mama. They will be happy for your intervention someday. I know Matthew and I are grateful. I cannot imagine my life without him.”
Mama’s face relaxed into a smile. “He is a good husband to you, my dear.”
Mercedes had always had the right touch when it came to their mother.
“Will the major’s family arrive in time?” Calliope piped up from Ammie’s right. “I thought they were due to arrive yesterday.”
“No,” Ammie said. “Lord and Lady Grandstern and Phillip’s oldest brother will arrive sometime this afternoon.”
Their stay had been prearranged before Phillip’s arrival at Everly Manor.
Our parents are an arrogant lot, planning our futures without asking us, she had said to Phillip last night before retiring to her own bed. She missed snuggling beneath the covers with him, but they had agreed to a moratorium on spending the night together until they were married. Phillip hadn’t wanted to tempt fate since her parents approved of their union.
I would be lost if they withdrew permission now, he’d said.
Ammie didn’t believe they would be that cruel, but Phillip had seemed truly worried, so she had been honoring his wishes.
Calliope’s smooth brow puckered. “Will his youngest brother miss out on Christmas?”
“Don’t be silly,” Octavia said. “It will still be Christmas wherever he is deployed.”
“I wouldn’t like to be away from family at Christmas.” Calliope’s eyes misted and her voice quivered. “I never want to leave home.”
“Well, if Mama has her way,” Octavia said, “none of us will ever move beyond the village.”
Their mother’s smug smile acknowledged the truth.
Ammie put her arm around her youngest sister’s shoulders. The poor girl had cried when she’d heard Ammie would be leaving home. “I hope you know you can call on Phillip, Mr. Perkins, and me whenever you like. I’m sure Phillip will welcome your help after the first pups arrive. They will need lots of love and cuddles to grow into good hunting dogs.”
“She is right.”
Ammie perked up at the sound of Phillip’s voice. He and Papa were back and came to join the ladies at the table. Phillip was so very handsome in his buckskins and dark blue jacket, and the color matched his eyes perfectly. She barely suppressed a dreamy sigh
He smiled and leaned down to place a kiss on her hair before sitting in the vacant chair next to her. “I am convinced love is the secret ingredient to success.”
Octavia made a gagging noise. “Your sweet talk is spoiling my appetite.”
Phillip whispered in Ammie’s ear, “And I am ravenous for you, my love.” He gave her a secret wink before draping a napkin over his lap.
Heat washed over her as images of their one night together flooded her memory. As far as she was concerned, their wedding night couldn’t arrive soon enough. She met his gaze and silently formed the words, ‘I love you.”
Epilogue
Phillip found his wife reclining beneath the sprawling branches of her favorite Ash tree. A summer wind whipped across the lake, rippling the water’s surface and agitating the leaves overhead. The sweet aroma of rain wafted on the air.
“I thought I would find you lazing away the day,” he teased.
Ambrosia shaded her eyes with her hand and turned to watch his approach. It had been six months since they had spoken their vows, and she grew more beautiful by the day.
He sat on the grass beside her and leaned down to steal a kiss. “Are you creating a new adventure for Mr. Orion Perkins out here?”
The subject of her soon-to-be published children’s stories was busy sniffing a patch of tall grass at the water’s edge. He flushed out a toad, but he wasn’t quick enough to catch it before it plopped in the lake. His lady dog, as Ambrosia insisted on calling the female springer spaniel chosen for his mate, was napping in the sun.
“I am creating your offspring.” Ambrosia smiled and caressed her belly. “Surely, that warrants a rest now and then.”
“A brief wink or two, at least.” He laid his palm over the back of her hand and laced their fingers. Signs of their child had only begun to show last week, barely noticeable to anyone besides Phillip who knew her body intimately.
She had donned a simple pink day gown that morning and worn her auburn hair loose around her shoulders like he preferred. Her silky locks were spread out around her on the grass like a magical halo.
“New drawings have arrived for you, fairy.”
“Oh?” She scrambled to a seated position. “Are they as good as the others?”
He playfully narrowed his eyes. “Is this a trap? You know I never open Gabe’s post anymore.”
She had been so disappointed when the first sketches arrived and Phillip had opened them while she was calling on her sisters at Everly Manor. He had given his word to never peek at Gabe’s work again until she had seen it first.
“Let’s open it together.” She sprang to her feet, as if no one had ever told her a woman with child should slow down.
“If your mother saw you hopping about like that, she would demand my head,” he said.
“If you tell her, I’ll be the one demanding your head.” With an impish smile, she lifted to her toes and planted a smacking kiss on his cheek.
He chuckled and held her hand as they strolled toward the cottage.
As promised, Phillip had written to Captain Gabriel Brazier after the wedding and told him about Ambrosia’s project. Phillip’s closest friend had responded within days with an invitation to bring his bride to Northumberland to allow Gabe the honor of an introduction.
Phillip and Ambrosia had traveled north early in the spring. He hadn’t known what to expect, exactly, but he’d been gobsmacked when Gabe walked out to meet the carriage. His friend had been fitted with a prosthetic leg, and even though he used a cane and had a pronounced limp, he was still the same old Gabe that Phillip had known most of his life.
As expected, Ambrosia had charmed Phillip’s childhood pal before the servants had unloaded the trunks, and the two had become bosom friends by suppertime. When Ambrosia and the other ladies of the house retired to the drawing room after supper, Phillip and Gabe had found a quiet place to talk.
Gabe apologized for never responding to Phillip’s letter when he returned home. He admitted to suffering from crippling guilt at the time for abandoning the Regiment and leaving Phillip to fight on his own. Gabe’s revelation had been stunning. Phillip had never imagined they would share the same feelings. He, too, had been carrying his own guilt for escaping the war unscathed.
The wounds no one except Ambrosia had been able to see in Phillip began to heal that night. He and Gabe had had many conversations about the war in the three weeks Phillip and Ambrosia stayed as house guests. Somehow, retelling their stories seemed to help them both, as did keeping up correspondence about how they wanted the
ir new stories to unfold.
Gabe’s parcel was waiting on the Louis XV walnut writing desk Phillip had given his wife as a wedding gift. She’d gushed over his thoughtful selection, insisting it was a thousand times better than jewelry, which she rarely wore. In his eyes, she didn’t need any adornments besides the ones God had given her. And he didn’t require any gift besides her.
Phillip cut the twine holding the parcel together with a knife and urged her to hurry. Her excitement was contagious.
Ambrosia gasped with pleasure and held up the first drawing of their springer spaniel wearing a hat. “It’s Mr. Perkins on his wedding day. Just as I imagined.”
Gabe had a way of animating the dog’s face that was both charming and amusing, just like Ambrosia’s writing.
She shuffled the papers and pulled out another sketch. “And here is Lady Dog. Look at her. Is she not beautiful?”
“Her name is Nova,” Phillip said, feigning a glower.
“You and your silly names.”
“What is silly about Nova?”
A coy smile played across her lips. “What isn’t silly about it? I hope you do not expect to have all the say in naming our child.”
“Our child will be out of leading strings before we agree on a name.” Phillip slipped his arms around her waist from behind and rested his chin on top of her head. “How about a compromise? If we have a daughter, I will choose the name, and if we have a son, you will do the honors.”
“Oh, I do like that compromise.” Ambrosia turned in his embrace so they were face to face. “I’ll name him after someone I greatly admire.”
“If you say Reginald Perkins, I will kiss you until you cannot remember your own name.”
Her green eyes lit with interest, and she tipped her head at a flirtatious angle. “And if I say it is the butler?”
“I will definitely kiss you senseless.” Phillip drew her close, following through on his threat, and forgot everything except how much he loved his adorable wife.
About Samantha Grace