by Vikki Vaught
Respectfully yours,
Andrew
He sealed the letter and took it downstairs with him. His steward met him in the entryway. Since the kitchen had burned, Halsey had brought him some hard cheese and brown bread. While not his normal breakfast fare, under the circumstances, it would have to do. At least, until he could make other arrangements. After he ate the meager meal, Andrew found a groom and sent him off to the village to post his letter to Kathleen.
Effinger arrived soon after, and they went to help the workers clear the debris from the fire. Mr. Herron, the architect he’d hired, would be arriving mid-day to assess the damage.
As he labored with his workers, the unseasonably warm spring day soon had his shirt clinging to his damp skin. Pulling a snowy white handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped his sweaty brow. It was worth it though. He wanted to gain the respect of his employees and show them he wasn’t afraid of hard work. What better way than to work alongside them as they toiled?
The architect arrived at the appointed time. After looking over the damage, Herron turned to him. “With the amount of workers you have, I estimate it will take close to four weeks to make the repairs. I know a skilled carpenter who is available. He could be your foreman and organize your workers. Lowell has worked with me on other jobs and he’s very dependable. With your permission, I would like to bring him in.”
Four weeks!
I can’t stay away from London all that time.
“Please hire whomever you feel you need to expedite these repairs. I’m getting married the third week in May. I need to return to London as soon as possible.”
“Once we have everyone in place, I see no need for you to be here the entire time the work is being done. I’m sure your steward will assist me, and I’ll send you frequent progress reports.”
“In that case, I’ll stay this week. I want to help get everything started. This is actually my mother’s estate, and she should be arriving any day. Once she’s had an opportunity to see the damage and your plans to repair the wing, then she and I will return to town. I shall return for a couple of days each week to see the progress you’re making.”
After talking to the architect, he felt much better. Now he only had to deal with his mother’s histrionics when she arrived. Once she saw the extent of the damage, she would be distraught, to say the least.
They had most of the debris cleared away by the end of the day. The supplies were scheduled to arrive the following morning, and then the work could begin. When Andrew went to bed that night, he felt a huge sense of satisfaction in all they had accomplished in one day.
Upon arising the following morning, he wrote another letter to Kathleen, letting her know he should be back in town by the first of May, as long as all went well over the next eight days.
His mother, Vivian, arrived that afternoon, and she reacted the way he had anticipated. He had to spend the rest of the day calming her. In fact, he’d called the apothecary, and he had given her laudanum.
The following morning, she’d recovered from her initial distress over the house.
When she came downstairs she marched into the room he used as an office. “Billingsley, what is this I hear of a betrothal between you and that dreadful American chit? Word reached the house party, and I told everyone they were mistaken. You would not have allowed yourself to be caught with the gel.”
He dreaded this discussion, but it could not be avoided. “The lovely Miss Hawks has agreed to marry me, and she is not a chit, Madame.”
“She will make a terrible baroness.” His mother screeched. “I refuse to condone a marriage between you and that dreadful American. Have you lost all your senses?
He stood, placing his hands on his desk, girding his loins for the upcoming tirade. “You will keep a civil tongue when you speak of my fiancée. Whether you like it or not, I will wed Miss Hawks on the twenty-first of May.”
“What!” The baroness placed her hands on her bony hips. “I will do whatever it takes to keep that from happening. I still cannot believe you let this happen. I do not care if you did compromise her. You do not have to marry the gel. She can go back to whatever hovel she lives in back in America.”
“Enough.” He moved around his desk and stood toe to toe, looking her in the eye. “You will not interfere. If I hear you have spoken ill of her, you will regret it. Now, I have a meeting with Mr. Herron. I suggest you think long and hard before you say anything to your friends.” He turned on his heel and left the room.
It would be a very long eight days.
CHAPTER NINE
In the days following her betrothed’s departure, Kathleen stayed incredibly busy. Between shopping for additional bride clothes, fittings for her wedding gown, and nightly entertainments to attend, she never had a free moment to dwell on her feelings. On Saturday, she received a letter from Andrew. It concerned her that he couldn’t tell her when he would be returning.
When he wrote he would not be returning next week, her heart dropped to her feet. Would he return the following week or the week after that? If that were the case, he might not return until a week before the wedding. As much as she hated to admit it, she missed him. She’d grown accustomed to seeing him every day, and her afternoons felt empty without their daily drives. She certainly hoped he would return sooner than later.
Since the following day was Sunday, Kathleen attended church with everyone. Later that afternoon, the duchess, her mother, and Andrew’s secretary addressed the invitations and had them ready to send the following day. That was a huge accomplishment, since over four hundred had to be addressed.
While eating breakfast the next morning, Collins handed her another letter from Andrew. She immediately broke the seal and opened it.
Dear Kathleen,
I have good news. The architect told me I do not need to be here while he makes the repairs. He assured me the damage will be repaired before our wedding. When I saw the damage, I had greatly feared it would take much longer than that.
My mother should be arriving any day. I must say I do not look forward to her arrival. I previously mentioned we are not close. In fact, we barely tolerate each other.
As long as all continues to go well, I should be back in town by next weekend. I shall still need to make a few trips back to Hatton Manor to check on the repairs over the next few weeks.
Kathleen, I look forward to seeing you again, so we can resume our daily drives. I miss them a great deal. I hope you have at least missed me a bit. Our developing friendship means a lot to me, as I hope it does to you.
Take care, and I will see you next week. Please give your mother my regards.
Respectfully yours, Andrew
When Kathleen finished reading her letter, she breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness, he would be returning sooner than he had originally thought. If she was ever going to be comfortable on her wedding night, they needed these next few weeks to grow closer to one another.
The reality of the wedding came crashing upon her. In less than four weeks, she would be a married woman. She would be spending the rest of her life in England having to deal with these aristocrats. The parties and balls she had attended since arriving in London had not endeared her to the members of the ton, exactly the opposite. All anyone ever seemed to worry about was who cheated on whom and watching others fall from grace. The Duchess of Brentwood was by far the worst. Kathleen thanked the heavens above she had the protection of a duke, because without it, there was no way she would have kept her indiscretion from her mother.
Having finished her breakfast, she called for her maid. Since she at last had a morning free, she planned to take a nice long walk through the park. While strolling along the serpentine, Kathleen noticed the Earl of Renwick and his sister, Lady Deborah, approaching.
They stopped in front of her, and the earl swept off his beaver hat and bowed. “Your servant, Miss Hawks. It’s nice to see you this fine, fair morning. Have you heard from Billingsley since he left town?”
Lady Deborah smiled. “Yes, I shall be there. She gives marvelous parties. She has a small pond, and there should be opportunity to go out on a boat. It’s too bad Billingsley shan’t be there. I’m sure you must miss him. How are your wedding plans coming along?”
The sun had risen higher in the sky, and Kathleen angled her parasol to keep it from glaring in her eyes. “The invitations went out this morning. I hope you will be able to attend.”
Lord Renwick interjected, “Since I’m Billingsley’s groomsman, we shall both be attending.”
“That will be lovely,” she replied. “I understand you’ve been friends for a very long time. I’m sure you will be an excellent best man. Now that I’ll be married to Lord Billingsley, I look forward to getting to know you better.”
Laughing, Lord Renwick replied, “Billingsley and I have known each other since we were in leading strings. Our estates border each other, and our mothers were close at one time. I could tell you several stories that would raise the hair on the back of your neck. It’s a wonder we ever survived to adulthood.”
“I would love to hear them when we have more time. I’ve enjoyed seeing you today, but I’m sure my mother is wondering where I am. We still have quite a few things to discuss regarding the wedding. I shall see you this afternoon at the garden party.” After Lord Renwick and his sister bade her good-bye, they resumed their walk, and Kathleen and her maid turned in the direction of Chilton mansion.
Her mother stood waiting for her as she entered the house. “Kathleen, I see you took a nice long walk. Your cheeks are glowing from your exertion. Sylvia is taking us to the premier greenhouse in London, so we can select your bouquet and the flowers you want for the church. I’m sure we’ll need a profusion of blooms to decorate the sanctuary. Why don’t you go change, and then we’ll be off.”
When they arrived at the greenhouse, the wide selection of flowers and their delicate scents were almost overwhelming. Thank goodness the duchess was there because Kathleen had a hard time choosing. For the church, she selected arrangements of delphiniums and calendulas, lilies and roses, with pink English daisies, which were quite different from American daisies, and even more beautiful. For her bouquet, she chose white roses, tiger lilies, and lily of the valley. The owner of the greenhouse proved to be very helpful, putting together arrangements for her to see. England definitely had a profusion of beautiful flowers to choose from, no wonder their gardens were lovely.
The next few days remained incredibly busy. Kathleen barely had time to think, probably a good thing, since it gave her less time to mull over her relationship with Andrew.
With the wedding only a few weeks away, she still hadn’t written William. Each afternoon, she sat at the small desk in her room and stared at the blank piece of paper. On Friday morning, she could no longer put it off. She told her mother she needed to take care of some correspondence and left her in the breakfast room. When she entered her chamber, she took her seat at the desk and began the much-dreaded letter to Mr. Jones.
Dear William,
I hope this finds you in good health. I am sorry I have not written since the first part of April. It has been quite hectic here. So much has happened I do not know where to start. I guess I will begin at the beginning, always a good place. I know I am rambling, but what I need to tell you is difficult.
I arrived in London with the Duke and Duchess of Barrington in March. While I enjoyed many of the entertainments in the city, I did not enjoy the balls. Several young men would not leave me alone, and at every ball, I was inundated with requests to dance. Some of the young men were horrible dance partners, and I had sore toes on more than one occasion.
On the night of my come-out ball, after several hours of putting up with these young men—one in particular—I needed a moment to myself. I went to the library. While in there, a man entered and mistook me for someone else. He kissed me. Before I could pull away, the Duchess of Brentwood entered with a group of her cronies. She witnessed me in the arms of Lord Billingsley. The woman is the biggest gossip in London and holds a terrible grudge against my sister-in-law, hence anyone connected to her as well.
Within minutes, she had spread the rumor. I was ruined in the eyes of London society. The duchess took me to my room so I did not have to face anyone that night.
The next morning, Her Grace explained to me what the ramification would be for Alex and Anissa if I did not agree to the baron’s expected proposal. At first, I opposed the idea of marrying this man, then I realized how vicious London society could be, and I could not allow Alex and Anissa to suffer for my mistake.
William, I am sorry. I am marrying Lord Billingsley on May twenty-first. I regret any pain I have caused you.
I must ask that you hold this information in strictest confidence. My family is unaware of the compromising situation. Since my engagement was announced immediately after the incident, it hushed the gossip. I have kept this from my mother and my brothers. As my betrothed, I felt you had the right to know why I will not be marrying you. I hope someday you will find it in your heart to forgive me.
While it pains me greatly, I realize my feelings for you were not as strong as I had thought. I have developed a sincere affection for Lord Billingsley since we became engaged, and I believe he returns my feelings. While this marriage may start off in less than desirable circumstances, I am hopeful with the passage of time what has become a friendship will become more. Please do not think I do not appreciate the honor you bestowed on me when you asked me to be your wife.
Please know you will always hold a special place in my heart, but we were not meant to be. I see that now.
Yours truly,
Kathleen
She laid her pen on the desk and sealed the letter. Then covered her face and a few tears slipped out. With the writing of the letter, she severed all ties to the life she had expected to have. She allowed herself to shed tears for the loss of her girlhood dreams. The ache in her heart was bittersweet but more for the hurt she had caused William than anything else.
She went to the washstand when she finished crying, wiped her face and hands, and straightened her clothes to go below for luncheon. As she closed the door to her room it felt as if she closed the door on all she had ever known. She now had a new reality. Andrew was her future, and England would be her home for the rest of her life.
Kathleen was quiet throughout luncheon. Her mother kept looking at her with concern. Several times, the duchess asked her if she felt well. Her eyes had to be puffy from her tears. Some of her friends could cry pretty, not she. Her face grew splotchy and her eyes became red-rimmed and swollen to the point that it looked like a horde of bees had attacked her. Another reason she hated to cry, besides feeling that it made her weak. When they finished eating, she excused herself and made her way upstairs to her room.
Her mother caught up with her at her door. “Honey, what’s wrong? I can tell you’ve been crying. Please talk to me. I want to help.”
“Oh, Mama,” she broke down and the tears flowed from her eyes, “hold me as you did when I was a child.”
Georgia opened the door and pulled her into the room, then wrapped her arms around her, stroking her back in a soothing manner. “Now, tell your mama why you’re so distraught, darlin’.”
“I finally wrote Mr. Jones,” she choked out. “I’ve delayed ever since I agreed to marry Lord Billingsley.”
“Here, darlin’, sit on the sofa.”
Georgia sat and pulled Kathleen on her lap, holding her as if she was still a little girl, when her mama could heal her troubles and sooth any hurt feelings she had. She laid her head on her mother’s chest, relishing the feel of her arms holding her.
“Oh, Mama,” she whispered, “I found it so hard to write him. I
hate to cause him pain, and I know he’s going to be terribly hurt.”
As her mother continued to stroke her back, she asked, “Are you having second thoughts over marrying the baron? You know if you are, you can come home with us. You don’t need to marry him. I know Lord Billingsley is a fine man, and I do believe he loves you desperately, but I want you to be happy. Right now you seem pretty miserable.”
Oh, Lord, why did I let her see me like this?
I must convince her I’m still in love with Andrew.
“No, I don’t want to break it off. I’m in love with Lord Billingsley. I hate hurting Mr. Jones though. As soon as I met my betrothed, I realized what I felt for Mr. Jones was the love of a young girl on the cusp of adulthood. It wasn’t real love, not nearly as strong as what I feel for my betrothed. William will always hold a special place in my heart as my first beau, but I love Andrew to the depths of my soul.”
Kathleen put all the conviction she could in her voice. Andrew would be her husband. She couldn’t turn back the clock. She slipped off her mother’s lap and sat beside her, looking directly in her eyes. “Mama, I want to marry him with every beat of my heart. What I feel for him will last a lifetime and beyond.”
Georgia patted her hand. “You always did hate to see anyone or anything hurting. Ever since you were a little girl you would bring me baby birds with broken wings, wanting me to fix them so they didn’t hurt anymore. Now, I understand your tears. All I’ve ever wanted for you is your happiness and to find the kind of love I felt for your dear papa. I believe you have.”
Hugging her mother close, she said, “Oh, Mama, I have. I truly have.”
After her mother left her room, Kathleen fell back against the seat cushions on the sofa. Her body trembled and her palms were sweating. She had put on the best performance of her life. For a brief moment, it had made her feel that she spoke the truth. She hated lying to her family, even if it did protect them.