The Cautious Maiden

by Dawn Crandall

  And it had such an effect on me that I couldn’t help but take a small step closer, pressing my hands to his chest. In no time at all, he had me against the door, his lips on mine, his hands—still hesitantly—at my shoulders.

  “Violet, it’s been such a long wait.”

  A long wait, as in, since the last time? With Giselle? With Ava? Or who else? Those sudden, awful thoughts made my breath hitch in my chest, and I had to stop the kiss just to help collect my bearings. I locked my hands around the back of his neck, and kept my forehead bowed against his collarbone.

  I hated that he had such a past, but how could I judge him when he’d turned to Christ and at the same time so willingly turned from those old ways?

  I knew it would take so much more than I had in me to constantly forgive him when these thoughts would creep up. Who had they been? How many times? How many women? And would I be enough to keep him satisfied?

  God would have to help my heart, and I would have to consistently ask for His help. It was the only way. I needed to somehow forgive, but then forget as well.

  Slipping my hands down the front of his waistcoat, I caught the corner of a piece of paper sticking out of his pocket. “What’s this?”

  He pressed his hand against mine over his heart, forcefully. “Just Ben’s telegram.”

  “What exactly did it say?” I grabbed for it.

  Vance stopped me by holding his hand over his pocket. His other hand held me back from reaching for it again.

  I drew back, wondering at his defensiveness. “How did he explain—?”

  “You don’t want to see it.”

  “Yes, I do. I don’t care about him. I only want to know what he said.”

  “No.”

  “What could he have possibly said that would—?” I darted my hand around his blockade and was just able to snag the paper and slip it from Vance’s pocket.

  “He didn’t say anything worth—”

  I unfolded the paper and read:

  Confirmed [stop] Will meet VH at RMS Wednesday pm prepared to marry [stop]

  Confused, I looked at the date. It couldn’t have been the right telegram, yet there was the date, June twenty-seventh, eighteen hundred and ninety-two.

  “Ben is still expecting me,” I stated, shocked as the words left my mouth. How were they even true?

  Vance moved forward, and I fell back a step, and then two, toward the door to my room.

  He’d lied to me. Purposefully lied. When he’d said he never would.

  “You made it up so I would think I didn’t have a choice. So I would have to marry you, whether I wanted to or not.” I crumpled the paper and threw it at his feet, wishing it were something so much bigger and more hurtful.

  “But you did want to—”

  “And your lie has made me out to be a liar too. What will they think of me—that I would shirk my responsibilities? That I would so carelessly back out from what I’d promised without a word—without an explanation? And you lied to me when you said you never would.”

  “I wanted to be sure you’d choose me, Violet. I immediately regretted saying as much after learning such tactics weren’t needed, but as we were discussing things, it had seemed the only way to get you to marry me again.”

  “Of course I wanted to marry you….” Although I’d been quite sure at the train station that I would have chosen Vance, no matter what, now I was too hurt and confused to think straight. Would I have really—and so blatantly—disregarded what I’d promised if it had been my choice?

  I clumsily backed into the door to my room.

  “I’m sorry I lied. I didn’t plan on saying that, but I was desperate for you to marry me, and you seemed unsure, and it just came out—”

  “Why? So you could—?” Without meaning to, I glanced toward his impressive, dark wood four-poster bed.

  “That isn’t why. I needed to marry you because I couldn’t stand the thought of never seeing you again, having you live your life apart from me. It made me realize that I love you, Violet. I have for months. I think, even before we were forced into the predicament that produced our original engagement. I just didn’t know how to deal with my feelings. They were foreign to me apart from what I was used to wanting….”

  His dark eyes, so earnest and filled with emotion matched his words so well, but was it the truth? Did he really love me? Or was he only saying so trying to fix the horrid mess our wedding night had suddenly become?

  I didn’t know what to believe.

  Jostling the doorknob behind me, I managed to open it without turning my back to him. As I stood at the threshold between our rooms, he watched my every move, almost as if he didn’t know what to do to stop me.

  Without giving him an answer—for I didn’t know if I even had one to give—I slammed the door and locked it behind me. I didn’t know how to believe him. He’d lied; and he’d told me he never would. So how could I believe anything?

  I tried not to care that we’d gone from kissing against that very door, neither one of us wanting anything but each other wholly and completely…to this—to me disappearing back through to my own room in my anger.

  But I couldn’t go back to those feelings he’d induced in me only minutes before. The emotions that had been surging through me at the merest touch from him were gone, and I didn’t know how I’d ever get them back.

  Crashing onto my new bed in tears, I wished above all else that I’d never caught sight of that telegram in Vance’s waistcoat pocket. For if I didn’t know about the lie, then I would have still been in his room, in his arms, letting him love me.

  But how could I now?

  How could he have founded our marriage on a lie? Didn’t he know I would have married him even if Ben had been there at the train station begging for me to reconsider?

  I knew this now, as I wept upon my pillows. But I couldn’t bring myself to open the door.

  He hadn’t knocked after I’d shut it in his face. He hadn’t said a single word.

  It was the scene at the ball, all over again. Except this time after locking myself away from him, he wasn’t questioning; he wasn’t knocking. And this time he wasn’t just a fiancé, but a husband.

  The fact that I was more alone than ever, without him, and that he didn’t seem to mind—despite his insistence that he indeed had fallen in love with me—caused me to weep until exhaustion overwhelmed me, and I finally decided to turn off the lamps and crawl into my bed.

  24

  Day One

  “I have been loving you a little more every minute

  since this morning.”

  —Victor Hugo, Les Miserables

  The next morning, I awoke with a start. Half-remembering everything from the day before—the train station and the wedding—I sat up.

  Then the rest came back to me as well.

  The nerves, the kisses, the lie…and Vance loved me?

  But I’d locked him out.

  I’d locked the door that should never be locked. Oh, what had I been thinking? I wanted to cry all over again. I’d already utterly failed at being a wife.

  What had caused me to react so violently? Why hadn’t I immediately forgiven him? I’d forgiven him of so much more, and like he’d said, he’d been scared I wouldn’t marry him. And he’d wanted to marry me so very much, because he loved me.

  I groaned and put my face in my hands. I was such a fool.

  And now, would he forgive me?

  I slowly looked around my room, taking it all in as the sunlight brightened the walls; as if it were a grand present consisting of everything I’d always wanted. It really was the most gorgeous room; the kind of space I’d only ever dreamed of having.

  As I examined everything from my bed, I couldn’t help from constantly glancing over to the door to Vance’s bedroom. I knew I was purposefully stalling, lollygagging in my bed as I was.

  Was he there? I glanced at the clock on my nightstand for the first time and realized it was late. But that was good. The servants
would expect that, wouldn’t they? I certainly didn’t want them to know the truth, that I’d locked my new husband out of my room on my wedding night.

  My attention shifted to the tray of chocolate-covered fruit still on my other nightstand.

  Untouched.

  The fact said so much.

  I rolled to the edge of my bed and threw the covers back. This would be my breakfast then.

  As I fingered the first chocolate-covered strawberry, I glanced to Vance’s door again. What if I took the tray to him? Was he even there? Perhaps patiently waiting for me to come to my senses?

  I stood, hurried over to the tall mirror over the vanity and took a good look at myself. I’d slept in only my chemise, having taken my dressing gown and corset off for bed, and I considered taking the tray in just as I was, surprising him with my sudden boldness.

  But then I lost my nerve and pulled on the dressing gown. I also added the matching slippers. He’d been good enough to gift them to me—something I never would have expected. I wanted him to know that I’d appreciated the thought, and that I came wanting to repair things between us. That would be enough, right?

  Turning back to the nightstand, I took up the tray and walked to the door. Propping it against me with one hand, I slowly unlocked and opened the door.

  His room was quiet, and remained quiet as I entered. When I finally stood full in the doorway, facing the bed, I realized it was empty. I set the tray down upon a long settee at the foot of Vance’s bed and studied the room. The bed was made just as it had been the night before, and I couldn’t tell how long he’d been gone; if it had been recently that he’d left, or the night before when I’d turned him away.

  On the nightstand next to his bed was the little blue Bible he often had with him. It was opened to a page near the back, and in my curiosity, I glanced at the reference.

  The book of Ephesians, chapter three.

  I picked it up and took a closer look at the verses—

  “That Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith; that ye, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all saints what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height; and to know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge, that ye might be filled with all the fulness of God. Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us….”

  Vance’s constant example throughout the months had been inspiring, and I could tell every time he’d ever mentioned Christ or the Bible, it spurred a stronger desire in my heart for more of such things. I had a feeling it was Dr. Wellesley’s spiritual mentorship that had prompted such a devoted study of the Scriptures. Vance had been transformed into such a great and godly man, and now I was blessed enough to have him as a husband.

  I’d heard once—and I was pretty sure it was also in Ephesians—that husbands were to be spiritual leaders. And there, he’d been doing so throughout our entire engagement without either one of us realizing it.

  Putting the Bible down, I caught sight of a note. Unfolding the paper, I found one sentence scrawled in Vance’s handwriting: I’m at Everstone Square.

  And then, instead of seeing the note before me, I focused on the wedding ring Vance had given me—the ring he’d proposed with for real that second time—and his touching words from the ceremony the evening before. With a stronger sense of disappointment in myself than I’d felt before, I sat next to the tray and picked off a few of the chocolate-covered strawberries and slowly ate them. I wasn’t hungry now, and I couldn’t take another bite after swallowing only a few.

  It was useless anyway. It looked pathetically like exactly what it was: my trying to make it look as if we’d spent the evening before indulging in the fruit tray and each other…when neither was true.

  And what was the use? No matter when Vance had left, it would have been noticed, and why would he leave his wife at home alone the morning after his wedding, unless things had gone awry?

  How would I face the servants now? And what was I to do? Sit in my room all day and wait to find out if he’d ever speak to me again? I didn’t even have my writing box. For the first time ever, I’d completely lost track of it. Because I cared about something else so much more now—Vance.

  Leaving the tray in his room, I went back to my own, keeping the door between them open in case he came home.

  Putting myself together for the day, I put on the least complicated of the gowns Vance had bought me for my wedding trousseau. But I couldn’t quite figure out all the ties without Bessy’s help, so I muddled it together as best I could and wondered if I’d be able to get her back. I would have to ask Mrs. Jeffries, which meant going downstairs. Alone.

  Everthorne seemed exceptionally empty as I walked down the hall and descended the staircase. As I turned from the stairs, Mrs. Jeffries came out of the dining room. She didn’t seem nearly as happy as she’d been the night before.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Jeffries. I was wondering if you’d make an inquiry for me concerning my previous lady’s maid. Her name is Bessy Carmichael, and she was under the Everstone family’s employ until about two weeks ago.”

  “I certainly can do that for you, Mrs. Everstone. Would you like me to offer her the position as your lady’s maid once more?”

  “Yes, please.” I rather selfishly hoped she’d not found a job in the meanwhile and that she would be free to come back to me.

  “Mr. Everstone left me a note saying he’d be at Everstone Square most of the day,” Mrs. Jeffries added hesitantly.

  “I suppose, with the suddenness of the wedding yesterday, he needed to put things in better order before…before….”

  “Before you leave for the honeymoon trip next week?

  “Yes, that’s right,” I said with a nervous smile

  She didn’t actually respond, and went on her way.

  With nothing else to do, I decided I’d walk to Hilldreth Manor to visit Miss Abernathy and Roxy. It bothered me that they were still under the impression that Ben would be so thoughtless.

  ~~~

  I walked the few blocks to Hilldreth Manor alone, feeling as though I’d been changed into a new person. But really, there was nothing different about me from the day before besides the fact that I had a new name.

  Violet Hazel Everstone.

  I practiced saying it, smiling to myself, but then my smile quickly disappeared when I remembered how unlike a wife I’d been in the last twelve hours.

  When I came up to Hilldreth Manor’s front porch, I climbed the steps and pounded the brass knocker. I hoped they wouldn’t think it was odd that I’d come. I really didn’t know what else to do with myself.

  The butler answered, and I said, “Violet Hazel Everstone,” with more confidence than I felt. “To see Miss Abernathy,” I hastily added.

  He let me in with a smile and had me wait in the hall. When he came back to me and then guided me to the back parlor—a favorite room of Miss Abernathy’s, I’d gathered—I immediately realized I wasn’t the only visitor.

  Aunt Letty and Mabel were there, and even Cal had come.

  Of course, because I’d been announced, they’d been fully prepared to see me, and yet they sat so still, looking at me, wide-eyed. They almost seemed stunned. Mabel’s gray-blue eyes held questions and even—was it possible?—a hint of fear?

  Miss Abernathy stood and greeted me, handing her Pomeranian off to Roxy as she did. “Violet, I didn’t expect a visit from you this morning!—really, you were only married last night!”

  “Vance is at Everstone Square—he hadn’t planned to take this week off…he still has so much to do,” I answered as quickly as I could. “With the wedding having been moved up, he wasn’t quite prepared to leave things as they were for the time while we’ll be in Europe.” It all sounded so true! Perhaps there really was some credence to my explanations.

  “Do come and sit; join your aunt and cousins who have come by for brunch. It has been some time since we’ve seen them, hasn’t it
?”

  I joined Miss Abernathy on the sofa, choosing not to comment about the lack of communication from my relatives in those last few weeks. It was awkward, to be sure, sitting with them after they’d ignored me for almost a month.

  “Congratulations on your wedding, Violet.” Aunt Letty smiled bashfully.

  “Yes!” Cal added. He almost seemed to fidget with pent-up energy. “We were extremely happy to hear about the elopement. But what are you doing here?”

  “I have something I need to tell Roxy—”

  “We’ve heard you’ve written a few books for children that a publisher is interested in producing?” Aunt Letty glanced nervously at her daughter. “My, that’s something you don’t hear about often, is it? When did you become interested in—?”

  “It’s something I’ve thought about for a long time. I only just decided to focus on doing something about it when my parents passed away last year.”

  “I’d like to see what you write, Violet.” Roxy looked genuinely interested, and I was sorry I’d never mentioned my books to her before.

  “I don’t have the ones they’ve contracted, but I have a few others I’ve been working on since that I can show you. They’re at Everthorne.”

  “What does your husband think of your writing?” Cal asked.

  “He was the one who insisted upon showing them to the publisher in the first place. I would have done nothing so bold without his encouragement and belief in me.”

  “Vance does love you so, Violet. Show Letty and Mabel the ring he bought for you.” Miss Abernathy took my hand in hers and extended my arm so they could get a good look at the diamond ring on my finger.

  “It’s beautiful, Violet,” Aunt Letty gasped. “Are you still sailing for Europe next week?”

  “Thank you. And yes, that is the plan.”

  “I’m so glad to hear it.”

  Was she really so anxious to get rid of me? Well then.

  “As I said before, Roxy, I came here because I had something I needed to tell you.”

  “Oh?” she responded.

  “Would you mind, perhaps, excusing us to the front parlor, Miss Abernathy?”