by Dalia Wright
Kathrine waved a hand away, dismissing the concern. “You father has never minded if you, or Mary, wanted to take part in the English world.”
The words hit her like a blow to the chest. “But-”
“You’re not too old,” her mother said. “Rumaschpring is still an option.”
Another blow.
She was right. Her mother was right. She could…
“I could stay here,” she whispered.
“Well nee, you should come home with us, at least for a little while.” Her mother said.
“Jah, of course. You’re right,” Ruth nodded.
“But, you could stay with your cousins for a little while, and of course see this boy…”
Ruth’s cheeks flushed. Dean.
Ruth’s heart skipped a beat. She had a chance to see him again.
There was a soft knock on the door. It opened.
Ruth’s father stared at her, his eyes burning into her soul as she looked at the clothing she wore. Ruth felt her cheeks flush
“Is Joshua here already?” Kathrine asked, taking the attention off her daughter.
“Jah.” It didn’t do any good. Ruth looked down, unable to meet her father’s eyes. “We’d best get going.”
“I’ll change.” Ruth’s voice was so soft she hardly heard herself.
Her mother stood. “Take your time,” she said softly. “We will wait.”
Ruth nodded and watched as her mother headed to the door, and her parents left her alone.
Ruth changed quickly, shame overwhelming her as she thought about the look on her father’s face. How was she supposed to be able to go out into the English world after seeing that look?
Ruth packed her bag quickly, folded the English clothes that she had been wearing and left them on the bed neatly.
She picked up her bag and headed for the door. When she made her way back into the living room everyone turned to look at her. Joshua stared at her, his eyes locked on her. Clearly he had found out about what she’d been doing. Gott’s plan. Ruth tried to remind herself of what her mother had said. Maybe this had been Gotts plan for her. Maybe she was supposed to do this. Or maybe it had been a test. A test I failed. Ruth took a deep breath, trying to keep her face straight. She looked around. Grace stepped forward. She pulled Ruth into a tight hug.
“I’ll see you around.” She promised.
Ruth fought back the urge to cry. She fought back the tears. Grace pulled away and gave her a soft smile before turning to Mary.
Ruth looked around. There was no sign of Natasha or Jamie. Maybe they had been sent to their room, for fear of corrupting Ruth more.
After Grace hugged Mary everyone turned to the door.
Ruth reached the door first and pulled it open. She stopped dead in her tracks, Mary running into her.
“Ouch!”
Ruth paid no attention to it. She’d realized why Jamie and Natasha weren’t there to say goodbye.
She stared at the boy in front of her.
Dean’s cheeks were bright red.
“Hi.” He looked so embarrassed, his eyes locked on her. “I uh, heard you were leaving and wanted to say goodbye.”
Ruth stared at him with wide eyes, her voice unable to work.
“You must be the… boy my daughter’s been seeing.”
Her father’s English amazed Ruth.
He stepped forward and looked Dean up and down.
“Yes sir, I am.” Dean glanced at Ruth before stepping forward and holding his hand out to shake. “I’m glad we got a chance to meet before you left.” He looked scared as he turned his full attention to Ruth’s father. “Because I’d like to court your daughter.”
Ruth’s heart jumped into her throat. She stood there completely unable to react.
Richard reached out and shook Dean’s hand. “We’ll have to see about that.”
Two weeks later
“Are you sure about this?” Mary asked. “You still have time to-”
“Nee I don’t,” Ruth said, then paused. “No. No, I don’t,” she corrected herself. If she was going too go out in the English world she was going to use English words.
“Are you going to come visit?”
“Of course I will,” Ruth promised her sister.
“She’ll be back before she realizes it.” Kathrine spoke from the doorway. Her eyes sparkled. “And then she will be gone again.”
Despite her fears, Ruth’s father didn’t seem to mind that she was going to take part in Rumaschspring. Ruth grabbed her bag and headed for the kitchen. She checked the clock. They should be here soon. Her heart skipped a beat.
Her father hadn’t been into the idea of having Dean pick her up, but he had agreed it would be a chance for him to at least speak to the boy again. He sat at the table. His eyes red, but he refused to meet Ruth’s gaze.
She padded over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be back soon,” she promised. “I’ll… I’ll be good.” She wasn’t going to go out and do what Katie’s sister had done- which none of the parents were supposed to know about. She only wanted to be able to spend more time with Dean.
“Jah, I know ye will be.” He reached out and put a hand on hers. “But I’ll miss ye. You’re my little girl and I don’t like the idea of any man courting you.”
Ruth smiled. She wasn’t sure why he’d used that word, or if it had been Jamie or Natasha who told him to, but it had done the trick. Just enough for deatt to give him a chance.
A knock on the door caused Ruth’s heart to skip a beat. Mary rushed to get it as Ruth turned to her mother. Kathrine closed the distance between them and pulled her daughter into a hug.
“Don’t forget Gott’s plan,” she whispered just loud enough for only Ruth to hear it.
“I won’t.” Ruth promised, hugging her mother tightly.
She pulled away, willing herself not to cry as she turned to the door and faced Dean.
Her heart skipped a beat.
He closed the distance between them in a fraction of a second, his arms wrapping around her waist, at a respectable spot. He pulled her close to him. Her arms wrapped around his neck.
“Ruth,” he whispered, his head nuzzling into the crook of her neck. He pulled away quickly, clearing his throat as if he wasn’t sure that had been allowed. His cheeks flushed as he turned to her mother. He gave her a soft nod. He turned to her father and gave him a nod as well.
Ruth glanced past Dean to see three others standing there. Natasha and Jamie, but Natasha spoke to someone, someone Ruth knew all too well. Joshua.
They looked deep in conversation. Gotts plan. Ruth smiled softly.
“I uh,” Dean cleared his throat. “I just wanted you to know.” His eyes locked on my father. “I spoke to Grace about…. Courting customs to great length. I understand what’s expected and allowed.” He swallowed dryly. “I know during…” He paused, his brow furrowing as he searched for the word. “Rumaschpring, things are a little different but I want you to know that I’m not taking this lightly.”
Ruth’s heart skipped a beat. She turned to see her father’s reaction.
To her surprise she saw a smile spread across his lips.
“I expect my daughter to be in safe hands with you.” He stood, holding out his hand to Dean.
“She is,” Dean promised as they shook hands.
Ruth, Dean, Jamie and Natasha stayed only a little longer during which time Joshua promised to come out and visit them- but Ruth wasn’t sure it was to visit her. Ruth had a few chances to head out to the truck, but she didn’t take them, seeing the look in Joshua’s eyes as he spoke to the girl beside him. She caught her mother looking at them once. They didn’t say a word, but her mother gave her a single nod, a smile spreading across her lips.
Finally, around midday they had to get going. They would already have to get a hotel room for the night, a thought that Ruth’s father was not a fan of, but Dean promised to get his own room, giving the girls a room to themselves. Ruth reached out an
d took her hand, her fingers tangling together as she silently thanked him for everything he was doing- for everything he had done, and everything he said to her father. Most of all, for the fact that he sounded so honest about it.
Dean held his arm out for Ruth to walk her out to the car when the time came. Her parents cried as she said goodbye. But the look in her mother's eyes said it all.
Don’t forget Gott’s plan.
***The End***
Betrothed
& In Love With a Commoner
By: Elaine Young
CHAPTER ONE
Lady Arabella Barrington’s normally smiling; rosebud lips were pressed in a thin line of displeasure bordering on fury. Her eyebrows furrowed with rage she paced back and forth down the length of her bedroom, her stocking clad feet sinking into the lush mauve carpet.
Normally the tastefully furnished bedroom was Lady Arabella’s sanctuary and her spirits could be lifted by simply entering her room and soaking in the familiar, cherished surroundings. Half a dozen years ago when her mother had insisted on giving their estate a face lift; Arabella had joyfully thrown out the old-fashioned heavy furnishing and dark wallpapers. She had chosen a purple and silver color scheme to create a light, airy feel to her suite of rooms. But for once not even the beautiful draperies in dark purple, the silvery bedding or the antique furniture tastefully arranged in her rooms could lift her spirits. Her mind was in turmoil and she was fuming. She wanted to throw something at someone but didn’t know exactly whom she could blame for her current predicament.
The messenger who had brought the news to her parents?
Her grandfather who had made this monumental decision about her life without even bothering to consult her?
Her parents who had agreed without asking for her input?
Or should her anger be directed towards the arrogant Duke who thought he could lay claim to her?
At length she stopped her pacing and fell back on the silken sheets of her large bed flanked on both sides by French windows and groaned out loud. The truth of the matter was it made no difference who had decided this; the only thing that mattered was a decision had been made. One which everyone expected her to abide by. But she knew she couldn’t.
For most of her eighteen years Arabella, or Bella as she was known by her close friends and family had always gotten her way in life. As the only daughter of extremely wealthy, aristocratic parents, she had been spoiled rotten and had been raised like a princess, with a golden spoon in her mouth. So it was no surprise that she possessed a fiery temper and could be exceedingly stubborn. But those flaws were outweighed by a naturally sweet and kind disposition and a lively, generous spirit. Everyone loved Bella because she loved everyone. There was no haughtiness in her personality so people flocked to her to enjoy her friendship rather than envying her exceptional beauty and great wealth. Although she was a very popular young lady, Bella only counted Mavis Reid as her truest and dearest friend. The two had been inseparable since they were toddlers and did everything together. As soon as Bella had been told the earth shattering news, a maid had been dispatched post haste to the Reid household. While Bella waited for Mavis to arrive, she wrestled with her dilemma.
From a very young age Bella had been an incorrigible dreamer, she had lived in a bubble of happiness sheltered from the cruelties and hardships of the world. She had dreamed of her first season, of beautiful gowns and balls and parties of finding love in the midst of all the handsome men she would meet, she had imagined being swept off her feet by a man who loved her fiercely, one who would be willing to lay his life down for her.
And now on the cusp of her proper debut into society, just months away from her first season, she was being told she was already betrothed. Promised to a man she could only vaguely remember and powerless to stop the chain of events rapidly unfolding before her. Because not only did she discover she was already betrothed but her mother had announced earlier during tea that the Duke of Chambray would be leaving France within the week in order to come to London.
CHAPTER TWO:
“I think a summer wedding towards the end of the season would be lovely dear, in fact your reception could be the very last ball to close the season, the grandest ball of the summer! What do you think?” her mother had asked her barely able to contain her excitement. Lady Jane Barrington loved throwing parties and she was exceptionally good at them. Her only daughter’s wedding was something she had been looking forward to for a great many years and she was determined it would be one to remember.
“There will no summer wedding Mama because I will NOT marry him!” Bella’s blue green eyes flashed fiercely and her chin jutted out stubbornly. “And you can’t make me!”
Lady Jane sighed inwardly as she surveyed the selection of tea sandwiches artistically arranged on a silver platter in front of her. Her bubble of happiness was momentarily deflated by the tone of Bella’s voice. She tried not to roll her own eyes. Eyes that were exact replicas of her daughter’s flashing deep blue ones. As much as she adored her daughter’s free spirited personality, there were times when she wished she had raised a more docile child who did as she was told with minimal fuss. But she had learned years ago when Bella was just a little baby toddling around the house that there was nothing docile about her daughter. And she could well understand the conflicting emotions Bella was going through so she tried to be patient.
“Arabella, I’ve told you this already and we’ve been over this numerous times. It wasn’t my decision, nor was it your father’s. Your grandfather gave his word and you’ll just have to live with it.”
“Live with it?! It’s MY life Mama, my marriage has been arranged for ages to someone who’s practically a stranger and nobody ever thought to consult me! I am only made aware of this now? NOW? I want love Mama, not an arranged marriage. Just because you and Papa had one doesn’t mean you can do the same thing to me!”
“If you would just give him a chance Bella, you might really like him. You certainly got along as children.”
“Are you joking? I was eight years old! I saw him for a summer! And he hardly had anything to recommend him! He was serious, awkward and shy! I will not give him a chance because this is my life, my decision and I just know he’s horrid.” She stamped her foot to punctuate her words. An old childhood habit, which came out every now and then when she was particularly worked up.
But Lady Jane’s patience was running thin.
“Bella!” Her tone of voice was sharper than she had intended and it made Bella cringe, “You make it seem as though you’re the first girl in the world who had her marriage arranged by their families. Being born and bred in privilege also comes with responsibilities and having to make certain sacrifices. Consider this one yours. You will marry the Duke of Chambray and that is final, you can be as involved as you like with the wedding plans but it will go ahead regardless of your feelings in this matter.”
At her mother’s words all the fight seemed to flow out of Bella and she collapsed in a silken heap on the gold and blue brocade armchair across from her mother. At the sight of her daughter’s misery wrought face, Lady Jane got to her feet and sat down next to her daughter. She lovingly tucked a stray curl behind her Bella’s ear marveling once more at how truly beautiful she was. Slender, graceful, with long, silky, dark blond curls tumbling down to her waist, Bella would have broken many hearts during the season. The heart shaped face, the sweet pouty lips and the wide, sparkling deep blue eyes were simply irresistible. Bella was a happy girl and that joy seemed to vibrate from her inner core and Jane hated seeing her so bereft, but her betrothal with the Duke was a matter of family honor and such a great match couldn’t be refused. At least not without a very real reason.
“You know how much your grandfather loves you Bella…you know that don’t you?” She whispered softly.
Bella didn’t reply and stared ahead in stony silence, she wasn’t in a mood to be petted.
“Thomas Chambray will be here any day now...at least meet
him and have faith that your grandfather would never pick someone for you whom you would loath.”
Again Bella didn’t reply, it didn’t matter to her what logic her mother used, the only thing she could focus on was that the most important decision of her life had been taken out of her hands and come hell or high water there was no way she would ever devote her life to a man she didn’t love simply because her grandfather had given some old Lord his word. She couldn’t care less if the King himself was on his way to meet her, she had no intention of being around for that long.
CHAPTER THREE:
While Bella was knee deep in misery and figuring out how to get herself out of a betrothal arranged by her grandfather eons ago, Thomas, the Duke of Chambray was issuing the final instructions to his valet in regards to his valise. He was impatient to start the journey back to London. He had been sent from home when he was barely sixteen years old to live with Lord Archambault, his mentor. It was the Duke who had taught him everything he needed to learn to one day run his own Dukedom. Soon after his education had been completed he had been enlisted by the King to serve at the French court. And he had complied. But now after ten long years he was ready to go back home. Home to his parents. Home to his responsibilities and home to Bella.
A slip of a girl who had intrigued him enough all those years ago to keep her memory alive in his mind. When his grandfather had approached him with the betrothal he had readily agreed thinking of the impish, spirited girl with the wild tangled hair and wide blue eyes. And now he was anxious to head to home and speak to her, to see her and to woe her. When the last of the trunks had been strapped to the carriage he climbed atop his horse and with few final instructions to the valet he was off. At the last minute he had decided to ride part of the way because it would be faster and he would be able to get on an earlier ship crossing the channel. All his belongings would follow suit at a slower pace on a cargo ship. As he rode down the streets, his handsome set in determination, his dark eyes focused on his end goal, he was unaware of the admiring looks from the ladies in their carriages. The gangly, shy youth that Bella remembered had disappeared completely, leaving in its stead a breathtakingly handsome man that ladies swooned over.