by Carol Arens
Sitting down on a bench, he withdrew the letter that Lady Fencroft had someone deliver to him earlier this afternoon. He had read it over dozens of times, seeking whatever hope it might give him.
As far as hope went, it did not offer much. She conveyed her regret that things had happened as they had. Also that she knew a bit about the events causing the rift and that her cousin intended to make her decision by the beginning of the ball tomorrow. She said a few other things probably meant to encourage him.
It was difficult to feel encouraged. If Madeline meant to forgive him, she would come to him. Yet if she had decided against him, she would not still be pacing in front of the window. She would have fled to Fencroft Manor.
While he stared up, she stopped, covered her face with her hands. Her shoulders shook as if she were weeping.
This was his fault, curse him. He would do something about it. He ran for the house, dashed up the stairs, then stood breathing hard in front of her door.
He lifted his hand to knock. Behind the door he heard her muffled weeping. He clenched his fist tight.
For all that he needed to rush in and convince her to stay, he did not.
He had taken the choice from her once before. This time it had to be her decision. He would not bend her will to his this time.
Before, when he’d forced her to marry him, his reason had been selfish—in part, anyway. His reason for not telling her he was acquainted with her grandfather had not been, but in the end, the result was the same.
He withdrew the ring from his pocket, took note of how it glimmered and sparkled in the hall lamplight. He knelt, then pushed it under the door, where a thin line of light shone on to the floor.
What would Madeline do with it? This was not how he’d imagined giving it to her. No, very far from it.
Rising, he spun about and plodded down the hall, then down the stairs towards the office. It had become far too cold to pace outside.
Snow was coming; he was nearly certain of it.
Because of him, Madeline would probably not enjoy it. The thought made him sick at heart.
Which in turn might lead to actual illness. He had seen that happen. He owed it to his children to remain healthy. Somehow he would learn to smile for them, to keep the heated words he used to scold himself behind a cheerful facade.
He folded his arms across his chest while staring at the fire cheerfully snapping in the office hearth.
He did not deserve Madeline’s forgiveness.
Then, of course, forgiveness was not something one deserved, nor could one earn it. It was a gift, freely given. A gift he was going to kneel here in front of the flames and pray for.
* * *
Madeline stared at the bed, listening to the faint, off-key sounds of the orchestra warming up.
Three things lay upon it.
On the end of the bed closest to the pillow was a small valise. At the foot of the bed lay her blue ball gown. If her maid had wondered about the valise when she spread the gown over the comforter as Madeline had asked her to do, she did not raise a brow about it.
The pillow was where her eye returned time after time. Square in the centre lay the wedding band that Rees had pushed under the door last night. The pretty stones sparkled, the gold glimmered temptingly, but she had yet to put it on her finger.
It was unlikely there was a member of the household unaware of the trouble between the Viscount and the Viscountess. The fact that she had not emerged from her quarters in a day and a half would be suspicious to anyone.
Someone other than herself had to have noticed Rees pacing the garden last night.
The ball was ready to begin. In spite of the threatening weather, she thought she heard a few carriages crunching the drive.
She had promised a decision by now.
For a time last night, she thought she had made it.
When she heard Rees’s steps in the hallway, heard him pause outside her door, she had thought he intended to try to influence her choice.
Staring at the door, she willed him to go away, pleaded in her mind for him to pass by without trying to force her choice.
She pressed her palm on the door, listening to the strike of his boots on the hallway floor as he walked back towards the stairs.
It might have been the sweetest sound she had ever heard.
The unspoken message was clear. She was free to make her own decision in regards to him. No more lies to influence her to remain here.
For good or for ill, only the truth lay between them now.
In that moment when he walked away, she forgave him. She wanted to stay and spend the rest of her life with her new family.
The choice had been made, but then over the hours another doubt had crept in and it had nothing to do with Rees.
It was to do with her character flaw. It was perhaps worse than Rees being less than factual.
Would she run whenever something came up that she did not want to face? Would she do it now?
At least her husband had never run. He had not, except to run after her.
What if loving Rees and the twins was not enough to keep her from fleeing? She greatly feared the weakness inside her.
Loving Grandfather and Clementine had not prevented her from leaving them.
She touched the worn black leather of the valise. It was smooth, but cold and hard.
Next she drew her hand over the gown. So soft—the blue shimmer made her heart stir. Happiness fluttered in her fingertips.
She could not continue to stand here. After reading the letter she had asked Clementine to write, Rees would be waiting for her answer.
She needed to make a choice.
Looking back and forth between the items on the bed, something became suddenly clear.
Choice was a decision. One was not doomed to a certain behaviour. One could decide to indulge in it, or to choose another way...a better way.
She reached for the gown.
* * *
Rees stood alone at the foot of the staircase in the hall. The guests had already arrived and gone into the ballroom.
Madeline’s grandfather had come in and shaken his hand, but also shot him a frown. Her cousin had greeted him with an encouraging smile which had made him feel better, but only for a time.
While the moments passed with no indication that Madeline was coming down, his spirit sank.
Whatever was going to happen, if she was going to walk away from him or to him, it was likely to happen on these stairs. They were the ones leading to the front door and to the ballroom.
Staring at the wide, elegant stairway was becoming agony. His eyes ached; his fingers hurt from being clenched tight.
He walked to the windows on each side of the parlour doors, staring out.
It was snowing! He wanted nothing more than to rush upstairs and tell Madeline about it. To carry her outside, swing her about and kiss icy flakes off her lips.
He nearly smiled at the thought—nearly wept at it, too.
All of a sudden, he heard the rustle of fabric at the top of the stairs.
He went utterly still, afraid to turn and see that it was a servant and not his wife. But in his frozen state he did think the shifting fabric was silk and not cotton.
‘Rees.’ The whisper came softly, as if carried on an angel’s wing.
Spinning about, he dashed to the foot of the stairs.
Madeline’s ball gown shimmered around her, seeming a blue haze to his moist eyes.
He stopped at the foot of the stairs, gazing up. Tears dampened her eyes, too.
What did they mean?
He knew what his meant. A full heart—full of fear, grief, joy and hope all in one overwhelming instant.
The fact that she stood at the top of the stairs indicated, but did not guarantee, she forgave him.
She lifted her hand,
revealing the glint of his ring on her finger.
He lifted his arms.
She lifted her skirts.
The light of the gas lamp winked off her silver slippers when she dashed down the stairs and landed in his arms.
She hugged his neck, sniffling. He pressed his face into her hair, probably doing a good bit more than sniffling.
‘I choose not to run away again. If you believe that, I’m here to stay. No matter what mistakes we both make, I will not run from them.’
‘Madeline,’ he whispered into her hair because he had no idea how to respond. It seemed she was blaming herself and not him when he deserved every bit of it. ‘I hardly know—’
‘What’s that?’ She let go of him, staring intently over his shoulder.
‘Snow.’
She gave a squeak, that was all he could call the happy sound, then pushed out of his embrace. She ran across the hall.
Fairly dancing on her toes, she drew open the doors and rushed outside.
Luckily he was right behind her and caught her in the instant her feet slipped out from under her.
‘Oh!’ she gasped.
‘Ice.’
‘I didn’t realise.’
With an arm about her waist he led her down the stairs to the drive, where the gravel made for safer traction.
She lifted her arms and her face towards the flakes.
‘It looks magical drifting past the lamps.’
It appeared as if she intended to spin in circles, but he caught her hand, drew her to him.
Her smile nearly brought him to his knees.
‘Madeline, you need to know something. Until I saw your grandfather on the steps, I did not know for sure he was the same man I met in Scotland. I had no intention of deceiving you. I simply meant to surprise you.’
‘It was a rather large one.’ Thankfully she said so while pressing ever closer to him. ‘I was greatly surprised.’
‘But reuniting you with your family was supposed to be a gift, not a shock.’
‘As gifts go, it would have been rather grand.’
‘It was meant to be grand, to show you how much I love you.’
‘And this—’ she waved the ring in front of his nose ‘—is to show you how your love has changed me. I will not run again, Rees, no matter what comes.’
What could he say when there were no words? Go with his heart. He told her what was in it with a kiss.
‘Please believe me when I say I will never deceive you.’
‘If you accidentally do, I will remain right here in order to scold you.’
‘Indeed.’ He cupped her face, kissed her deeply. ‘I love you, my angel.’
‘I know you do. I love you, too, Rees.’ Snowflakes gathered on her lashes and her hair. ‘And isn’t it interesting that all of our mistakes led us here?’
‘More a miracle, I think.’
‘Quite so.’ She caught a snowflake on her fingertips and laughed over it. ‘But love is the greatest miracle.’
Aboard the SS Edwina
First day of spring, 1890
Love might be a miracle, but in that moment Madeline felt rather sick because of it.
Standing at the bow of the ship, she glanced across at her cousin. Both of them gripped bouquets of pink-and-white roses.
Interestingly enough, her cousin looked the very shade of green as Madeline felt.
‘I wish Grandfather had chosen to be married in one of our gardens in Derbyshire,’ Madeline said to Clementine while waiting for the bride and groom to come on deck.
‘Oh, if only this was a garden wedding.’ Clemmie drew in a short breath and huffed it out. ‘My sister-in-law, Olivia, had the right of it when she decided to remain in London.’
‘Grandfather wants to show his new bride our home in Los Angeles. To be honest, I want to visit for a while.’
‘The children will be glad to see it. They can speak of little else. You know, if each of them say only one thing it is constant chatter.’
‘Yes, my mother-in-law has spoken of nothing else in weeks either.’
Madeline’s stomach turned in a sickening flip, but she put on a good face. There was about to be a wedding. Joy abounded.
How many steps away was that rail?
Further than it had been when she and Rees shared a cabin. While she remembered that small space with fondness, life was easier in a first-class cabin. Especially with two busy children.
She had great admiration for women who managed to make the crossing with little ones in the steerage area. She would give great thought as to what might be done to make it easier for them. She did have influence with the owner of this vessel, after all.
‘She is double your mother now, I would think,’ Clementine observed, drawing Madeline back from her wool-gathering. ‘Mother-in-law and step-grandmother, both.’
‘At least Grandfather took more time in marrying than we did.’ Madeline pressed her hand to her stomach.
‘Neither of us had much choice about it, yet I do not regret a thing.’
Her cousin cast a glance at the rail.
‘Clemmie? Are you ill?’ Just looking at her made Madeline feel worse.
‘No. I would not call it ill, quite.’
‘Seasick?’
Her vibrant red curls caught the glitter of noon sunshine when she shook her head. ‘Not that either. And you? Are you ill?’
‘I suspect that I have the same condition as you do.’
Clementine winked, smiled. ‘Cousin, would you like to join me at the rail for a bit of...relief... I suppose one must call it?’
‘The Captain has only now come on deck. We have time.’
Side by side they strolled to the rail, glanced about to see if anyone was close by.
There was another poor soul seeking relief, but he was a good distance off and clearly his stomach would settle once the ship docked.
Clementine nodded. Madeline shrugged.
When they finished doing what Mother Nature required of them, they turned to look at each other. Madeline laughed and Clementine gave her a great hug.
‘That ought to keep us through the ceremony, I expect,’ her cousin declared.
‘Does Heath know?’
‘Not yet. And Rees?’
‘He assumes I have seasickness again.’
Madeline spotted Grandfather coming out of his stateroom with Rees at the same moment Mother came out of hers, laughing and chatting with Bethany.
‘This has all worked out rather well for Grandfather,’ Clementine observed. ‘Both of us wed to nobility and now a Dowager Viscountess of his own. Does she keep that title when she marries Grandfather? I wonder. I’ve forgotten most of Grandfather’s notes on the subject.’
‘She does, indeed. I suspect Grandfather is delirious over it.
‘We ought to tell them,’ Madeline said, watching their husbands coming to collect them for the ceremony.
‘Together or separately?’
‘Some of both, I think. You stay here and I’ll go about twenty feet that way.’
‘The ceremony will start in five minutes,’ Rees said, taking her hand and placing it in the crook of his arm.
‘That should be enough time,’ Clementine said with a wink.
‘Enough time for what?’ Heath asked.
Clementine did not answer, but led her husband down the rail a bit.
‘How many children do you want, Heath?’ she heard her cousin ask.
‘I don’t know, but I’m sure you have a number in mind. Have you come across some more orphans?’
‘Not an orphan and it’s only the one.’
Rees grinned at them while Madeline led him in the other direction. ‘What amazingly good news! And to get it on the wedding day.’
She stopped walking. Al
ready her stomach was in revolt. She could only hope the ceremony would be a quick one.
‘I know that look. Would you like to rest in the stateroom? I ought to have kept the ivy pot.’
It was a lucky thing he had not, she might wallop him with it for making such a joke, but then, she would rather kiss him. Which, of course, was what had led her to be feeling as she was.
‘You do not know this look, Rees.’
‘Ah, but I do. I have seen it—’
‘Perhaps you have, but you have not seen it on me.’
‘Have I not?’ All of a sudden, his smile flashed up on one side as the knowledge of what she was saying became clear to him.
He enfolded her in a hug, swaying.
‘If you rock me like that, you will be sorry.’
‘I will never be sorry. What was it we said in the garden the night of the ball?’
‘Love was a great miracle.’
‘Yes, and so it goes on, my angel. Miracle upon miracle.’
* * *
If you enjoyed this book, why not check out
these other great reads by
Carol Arens
The Rancher’s Inconvenient Bride
A Ranch to Call Home
A Texas Christmas Reunion
The Earl’s American Heiress
Keep reading for an excerpt from Uncovering the Merchant’s Secret by Elisabeth Hobbes.
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Uncovering the Merchant’s Secret
by Elisabeth Hobbes
Chapter One
March 1346
‘Are you telling me there is not one single ship that can take me to St Malo before the week is up?’
Captain John Sutton placed both hands on the table, leaned across towards the Harbourmaster seated behind it and tried to keep his temper in check. ‘You assured me I would not have to wait more than two days and that was two days past!’