03 - Dreams of Destiny

by May McGoldrick

  It took just a few moments to reach the tower house. Gwyneth had many times passed by the old structure. In the days when she’d spent her time following Emma, she had often hid in the woods and watched her cousin go in. Never once though, had she herself been inside.

  The wooden stairs leading up to the door were still there. Heather was blooming where it had encroached on the little used path, and ivy was growing onto the door itself, partially obscuring it. David helped her down from the horse and cleared their way. The door’s rusted hinges complained loudly when he pulled it open.

  Inside, the rooms were damp and airless, but Gwyneth was surprised at the extent of the repairs that had been accomplished. She looked around as she shook off the rain. It looked as if someone had at one time spent a great deal of time here. She turned to David as he closed the door, shutting out the rain.

  “We have very little time, but there is so much that I have to telyou.”

  Her clothes were wet, and she wrapped her shawl tightly around her shoulders.

  “My aunt has returned to the Hall, and I must tell you I am frustrated and angry at the plans she so neatly has made for my future. But before I even get to those, there is something else that I have tell you. Something that I know you shall not approve of. But for me to ask what I want…for you to become even more involved in the mess that my life has become, ‘tis crucial to get past the first step. We never might, as I’m not sure you’ll be able to forgive me for what I have done.”

  She shook her head, frustrated and unable to look at him. She started pacing the length of the room.

  “I don’t know why I am apologizing, as I really do not mean to apologize. I have pursued my dreams in what I have always known was my destiny. And as shocking as you might think it, I have succeeded. And I am proud of what I have accomplished.”

  “Gwyneth—”

  “But that is not the way society shall view it, I know. That is not the way you shall see it, either. So I know that I am truly destined to be unhappy. I must beg forgiveness and give up the pursuit of my dreams to gain your approval.” She peeled the shawl from her shoulders and wrung it out. “But I shall do that. If that is what you want, then I shall change and be what you want me to be. I’ll never put a pen to paper again…if you share what I feel in my heart for you.”

  “What do you feel in your heart for me?”

  She hadn’t realized he’d moved from the door, but when she shook out her shawl, David caught one end of it. Gwyneth looked up at him. His hair was gleaming from the rain, his deep blue eyes were looking into her soul. She looked away quickly, not wanting him to see how her heart swelled with love for him.

  He pulled the shawl, drawing her closer. “What do you feel, Gwyneth?”

  “I love you,” she whispered, staring at his mouth.

  “And do you love me enough to marry me?” he asked, bringing her even closer and wrapping his arms around her.

  “I…I do. But I do not think you feel the same way, once you learn the truth about my past…about what I do.”

  “About the tales you have published?”

  “You know about them?” she asked, stunned.

  “I am a bit slow, my love, ” he said with a smile, “but not the village idiot. Still, I am ashamed to admit that I needed to read half of that first volume before the obvious hit me across the face.”

  “You are not angry?”

  “Of course, I am not angry. And no, I should never ask you to stop writing. In fact, I have nothing against you continuing to publish your tales, so long as it makes you happy, and that is what you want to do.”

  “You really mean that?” Gwyneth stared up at him in disbelief as he nodded. A look of suspicion creased her face. “Then why were you giving me such a difficult time about it in the carriage from London? Why the sarcastic comments about it and…and…”

  “If ‘twere not your writing, then I should have needed to find something else to tease you about,” he admitted, wrapping his arms tighter around her. “Put yourself in my position. I’d caught you ready to elope with some blasted fortune hunter. And if you recall, there were moments during our journey that you were less than friendly.” He stole a kiss from her lips, then another from her neck, making her smile. “I am warning you, though, that once we are married, you shall not have as much free time to pursue your writing as before. You know how demanding I can be.”

  She smiled and kissed his lips as his hands moved down her back.

  “I have already set Sir Richard Maitland to work approaching your uncle’s lawyers. You are not angry with me about that, now, are you?”

  She shook her head and smiled as she placed a kiss on his jaw.

  “We can marry as soon as you wish. My inclination, though, still is to elope to Gretna Green.”

  “Mine, too, considering all my other problems.”

  “I would wager there is nothing that we cannot solve together.”

  “You need to hear about them first,” she said, uneasy that she had to burden him with the rest so soon. The morning was advancing quickly now, though, and she didn’t know for how long Violet will be able to keep Lady Cavers from coming to Gwyneth’s bedchamber to see her. “My first problem lies with someone who is determined to make his fortune from my secret.”

  “From your writing?”

  Gwyneth nodded and went on to tell him about the blackmail letters and the demand for money. “That was the reason why I was eloping when you caught up to me in London. By marrying…a friend…I would come into my inheritance and be able to pay off the damnable villain.”

  “But there was no guarantee that such a scoundrel would not ask for more money again.”

  “I know. But I thought that even if he were so ignoble, after I was married, ‘twould not matter so much.” It was uncomfortable talking about it, but she had to. “The gentleman I was eloping with cares nothing of scandal.”

  “Who was he?” he asked gruffly.

  Gwyneth could here in his voice that there was still a risk that David might hurt Sir Allan. “He was not at fault. I approached him with my problem and this solution. He was kind enough to agree to my terms. He’d done nothing, David.”

  “His name,” he said again, his patience clearly stretching thin.

  “Sir Allan Ardmore. He has been a friend of my aunt for years. A decent man.”

  “Ardmore…Ardmore. Ah yes…from Lanark.”

  “That’s Sir Allan. But do you know him?” she asked with some confusion, knowing that David had not recognized him in Hampstead Village.

  “I know of him. He’s a penniless cad, infamous for having his debts paid by older women whose company he keeps.”

  “I don’t know how you could have heard such horrid things.”

  “Men talk, too, my love.” He tugged on one of her curls. “You shall be indebted to me for life for saving you from a man of such low character. By the devil, he must have thought he’d found Blackbeard’s treasure when you approached him. Your fortune would have kept him afloat for a good many years.”

  There was no point in arguing on Sir Allan’s behalf, especially since David did not seem too angry at the man. “Still, I expect you to act in a civilized fashion toward him, since he has done nothing wrong. He took no liberties with me, treating me with only the utmost respect, in spite of my difficulties.”

  “That was because he never had the chance. I was too quick for the blackguard.”

  “Vanity, vanity.” She punched him jokingly in his chest. “Civility. That is all I ask.”

  “I shall more than likely never see the man, so you have nothing to worry about.”

  She let out a long sigh and met his gaze. “That’s my next problem. My aunt has made up her mind that ‘tis in my best interest that I marry Sir Allan immediately.”

  He stiffened. “Not if I have anything to say in the matter.”

  She nodded sadly. “Sir Allan has accompanied her to Greenbrae Hall. He is there even now. And if I know my aunt, th
ey are planning the wedding as we speak.”

  “Wait.” His face was flushed with anger. “She cannot force you do any such thing. Did you tell her that?”

  “She broke this news to me last night. You see…” She drew a deep breath. “When I was upset about the blackmail letters, I approached my aunt in London about the possibility of a union between Sir Allan and me. She must still going on that assumption.”

  “But you corrected that.”

  “I did. At least, I tried. I do not think she was listening to me, though. I did stress that nothing could be arranged until I had a chance to speak with Sir Allan…which I have not, as yet. I tried to avoid him last night, and this morning.”

  “I will speak to him for you,” David said hotly. “And when I am done with him, Lady Cavers shan’t be able to find the vermin in a month of searching.”

  Gwyneth tugged on his arm. “No, David. We can handle this much more peacefully. I will speak to him, myself. He probably thinks he is still doing me a favor in accepting my aunt’s suggestion. He is a gentle sort of a man. He will withdraw agreeably, and that shall be the end of those plans.”

  “I am going to come and talk to Augusta myself. I shall let her know of my intentions…of our plans. I cannot risk waiting for the lawyers, only to have your aunt devise another disaster in the meantime.”

  Gwyneth let the sudden thrill his words caused flow through her, warming her blood. It was possible, after all. Nothing would stand in their way. It was too much to believe, but they would be married. She hadn’t even realized that tears were standing in her eyes until David pulled her tightly into his embrace.

  “I love you, Gwyneth,” he whispered in her ear. “Everything will work out, my love.”

  She nodded, her chin hitting his shoulder.

  “And the blackmailer shall get what he has coming to him, too.”

  “How?”

  “When he contacts you again, we shall pretend that you are ready to pay his demands. He must show his face to collect. That is when I make sure that he wishes he were never born.”

  She had no doubt that David meant every word he said, and Gwyneth didn’t care. The scoundrel had this coming to him, but she wanted to know the person’s identity, too, and how it was that he had discovered her.

  “I shall come and talk to your aunt this afternoon. I would bring the dowager or Lyon, if I thought they might improve the situation.”

  She shook her head adamantly. “Bringing either of them would be a mistake. She shall probably be hostile to you, too.”

  “I am not frightened off so easily.” He kissed her lips. “I have found the one love of my life. I am not about to let you go.”

  Gwyneth had no desire to go back to Greenbrae Hall. She was perfectly happy here in David’s arms. She knew the day was passing quickly, though, and she needed to go back. Considering the confrontation that still lay ahead of them, she didn’t want to aggravate Augusta more than necessary.

  “Would you take me back as far as the stables?”

  “I will see you to the front door of Greenbrae Hall.” He pushed the wet strands off her brow and ran his thumb across her lips. “And blast whoever sees us. They cannot stop us, Gwyneth. No one shall come between us.”

  A pang of worry was gnawing at her stomach, but she believed him. She picked up her scarf, which had fallen to the floor.

  “It has been years since I was inside of this place,” David said, looking around. “Truscott put many hours into repairing it. This used to be his favorite place to come.”

  “This was Emma’s favorite place, as well,” she replied.

  “Emma’s?”

  She nodded. “In my childish devotion of her, I followed her here many times. After she became quite angry the first time, I wouldn’t let her see me.”

  David seemed to look at the place with new interest. “I never knew there was anything between Emma and Walter. Or at least, no friendship of any sort.”

  Gwyneth looked around, too. A silk wrap of some value lay folded on a three legged stool in the corner of the room. It looked like something that might have belonged to Emma. A pot of dried flowers bespoke of a woman’s presence, too. There were other feminine touches, as well.

  “They would have been an unlikely pair. Walter always seemed to ignore her, and she would never give him a second glance.”

  “I need to get back, David.” The two of them headed for the door. The rain was still coming down hard and steadily.

  “Did you know Emma was carrying a child when she died?” he asked, helping Gwyneth up onto the horse.

  “I did,” she said quietly.

  “Lyon told me that he was not the father of her child.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Gwyneth admitted. “The two of them had spent almost no time together for months, that I could see.”

  “Do you know who the father might have been?”

  She shook her head. David climbed up behind her.

  “I suppose ‘tis possible that whoever fathered that bairn might also have pushed Emma off that cliff.”

  Gwyneth said nothing as they started off in the rain. She knew what David was thinking, and she didn’t like the thought that Walter Truscott might have been another of Emma’s lovers.

  More importantly, she didn’t like to think that Walter could be capable of hurting anyone.

  *****

  Emma had been married for almost two years. He knew she’d had many lovers. What were the chances that she would become pregnant after one night? He himself had fathered no children that he knew of. What were the chances?

  Such logic didn’t help him. Truscott was a man cursed with a sickness unlike any he’d ever known. He watched. He worried. The guilt was crushing, but he didn’t know what to do about it. Approaching Lyon was unthinkable. Running away was out of the question, too. He knew there could be no escape.

  In the midst of all this, Emma glided through life like nothing was wrong. She looked healthier than ever before, more vibrant than ever.

  Then, one late summer evening, he encountered her by accident as he left the castle by way of one of the garden terraces. Flustered to find Emma sitting on a bench there alone, he froze in his tracks for a moment, not knowing whether to retreat or forge on past her. She rose to her feet immediately upon seeing him, and he turned to go back in.

  “Truscott,” she called out softly to him. “I have some good news.”

  He stopped dead in the doorway, feeling the hot bile rise into his throat. His gaze turned uncontrollably to her.

  Emma’s hand slowly caressed her belly.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  CHAPTER 21

  The sky opened, deluging them on their ride back to Greenbraall, and by the time David dropped Gwyneth off by a side door, she was soaked through.

  “I am coming with you. I want to be sure you get to your room and change immediately.”

  “Don’t be silly,” she chided him, giving him a quick kiss despite the presence of a footman who rushed out to help her, having seen them come up. “Go now, so you can come back soon. I shall be waiting.”

  She hurried inside before he would disagree and ran up one of the servants’ staircases, hoping that she could get to her room before seeing either Augusta or Sir Allan.

  She was not to be so lucky. Halfway to her bedchamber, she nearly bumped into Sir Allan as he emerged from one of the guest rooms. The baronet’s initial look of delight was quickly replaced by alarm as he looked at her.

  “Miss Gwyneth, what in the God’s name has happened to you?”

  “I was out getting some morning air and got caught in the rain.” She’d slowed her steps but never stopped backing toward her bedroom. A puddle was forming a trail as she walked. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Sir Allan.”

  As she turned away, he quickly fell in step beside her.

  “Of course, of course. Before you disappear, however, I should tell you that I am absolutely thrilled with the way everything has been
settled.” He lowered his voice. “Your generous aunt’s suggestion is so much more agreeable than eloping to that godforsaken Gretna Green and being wed by a drunken blacksmith. I—”

  “I have changed my mind, Sir Allan,” she interrupted gently. “I am sorry to have to tell you like this, but after a great deal of thought, I believe ‘tis absolutely wrong for you and me to be married at all.”

  The baronet became suddenly pale. Gwyneth had reached the door of her bedchamber, but she didn’t think it would be right to just disappear inside after making an announcement of such magnitude.

  “What…what about your problems?” he managed to ask softly.

  “I shall pursue another solution to it,” she said vaguely. “The truth is, two lives should not be ruined because some villain has found an opportunity to earn some undeserved money.”

  “I never considered marriage to you anyone’s ruin. In fact, I have been very much looking forward to it.”

  “That is very kind of you,” she said. “But other than being…well, my friend and supporter, you have no deep affection for me, and I am honest enough to admit the same lack of feeling for you. So you see, we both deserve better than having our lives so inappropriately linked.”

  “But I am fond of you. That is a very favorable place to start a marriage, I believe. And you trust me…or you would not have come to me with your troubles. I would argue that we have a very strong foundation for two people to build a marriage upon.”

  “Thank you, Sir Allan. But no.” She shook her head. “I am a dreamer. I believe in romance, in love. I believe that I shall only be happy spending the rest of my life with someone I truly love. ‘Twould not be fair to a prospective husband for me to enter into a marriage otherwise.”