Valiant Bride

by Jane Peart

  “Robert, how well you look,” Noramary murmured, knowing how inane the words must sound.

  “And you, Noramary, are more beautiful than ever.” Robert raised an eyebrow. That gesture left much unsaid, but his insinuation was clear to her.

  “I would ask you to dance, but I’d rather talk. Could we find some quiet place… just for a few minutes?” he asked, his eyes never leaving her face.

  She found his intensity disturbing. “I think it better if we converse here,” she replied formally, although her heart was pounding.

  The music, enhanced by the sound of the dancers’ feet, suddenly seemed louder. His fingers still held her hand and she felt an increased pressure.

  “Surely two old friends can slip away to find a peaceful corner to renew acquaintance.… I don’t think anyone would find that unseemly,” he persisted Then, with more gravity, “Noramary, I must talk to you… alone. Is that too much to ask after all these months?”

  “Robert, I am a married lady now. I cannot leave the dance with you. The gossips would have a field day!”

  “In this merry crowd, filled with holiday cheer and punch as well? Come, Noramary, we’ll dance this one minuet together, if that will satisfy your sudden penchant for propriety… then we’ll find a convenient doorway and…”

  Before Noramary could protest further, Robert took her hand and led her out onto the dance floor. The slow, measured precision of the minuet allowed for ample opportunity to look into her partner’s eyes, and Noramary found it difficult to avoid his magnetic gaze. They followed the dance to its finale, when each couple in turn bent low to sweep through the arch formed by the clasped hands and uplifted arms of the other dancers. With a skillful maneuver, instead of escorting Noramary around to the other end of the line to form another link, Robert whisked her off the floor and out into the hallway.

  Never relaxing his firm grip on her elbow, Robert rushed her down the corridor and into one of the small rooms opening off the center hall. As if in a dance step, he whirled her through the door and spun her around, then closed the door behind them.

  The minute she heard its click behind them, Noramary knew the folly of Robert’s ploy. Although in the society of the day, light flirtations were regarded with amusement, in her heart Noramary knew this was different. She and Robert had meant too much to each other to render meaningless any such meeting.

  In a torrent of pent-up emotion, Robert burst forth: “Forgive me, Noramary! I had to do this. It was all I could do not to take you in my arms the minute I saw you!” She took a step backward, but he continued. “I’ve missed you beyond telling, Noramary. Did you ever think of me, knowing how much I loved you, how I was missing you all these months? I didn’t realize how much until tonight, when I turned and saw you coming through the door.”

  “Robert… please! What if someone saw us coming in here together? Can you imagine what a scandal…” She looked around the room for another exit. But there was only one door and Robert was leaning against it, barring the way. “Robert, how did you know I’d be here?”

  “I didn’t know, Noramary. I haven’t had much stomach for social life… not since… not for some time.… And now that I’ve been back with Uncle, I’ve been helping him in his practice. I wouldn’t have come tonight except for the Langleys. Please, relax. There’s no harm in a quiet chat.”

  Noramarys agitation eased somewhat with Robert’s calm reassurance, and she took a moment to catch her breath. This must be the Langleys? music room, she thought, noting the harp standing in one corner. Like the rest of the house, this room was decorated for the holidays, with wreaths at the windows, garlands and candles on the mantelpiece, and the traditional Christmas kissing-ball, which was a beribboned, clove-studded orange, hanging from the brass chandelier in the center of the ceiling.

  Both she and Robert saw it at the same time. Noramary stepped away, blushing furiously. But Robert gave a low chuckle and moved toward her, grabbing both her hands before she could put them behind her back.

  “Ah, Noramary, you didn’t used to be so shy. It’s only a holiday custom. Come, for old times’ sake,” he said, the old teasing quality in his voice melting her resolve a little. “It’s little enough between two dear friends. ‘Dare I not ask a kiss nor beg a smile’?” he quoted pensively.

  And with a sharp tug of nostalgia, Noramary remembered how Robert had often read poetry to her. His eyes held such an irresistible plea, such pain, that she was overwhelmed by a longing to comfort him and experience for herself that old affection, that nonjudgmental, unconditional love only Robert had ever given her.

  What harm could one kiss do? she thought, as she took a step toward him and lifted her face, intending to press her lips against his cheek, but Robert encircled her waist with his hands and drew her to him.

  Suddenly the door burst open, followed by a peal of laughter. Noramary and Robert jumped, startled, and turned to see another young couple at the door, evidently seeking a little privacy themselves. Their shocked expressions at finding the room occupied might have provided a shared moment of hilarity had not Aunt Betsy and Duncan been passing in the hallway at that precise moment.

  Turning to see what the commotion was all about, the two standing in the hallway saw Noramary and Robert in the incriminating embrace. To her horror, Noramary realized it must appear as though they had been surprised in a lover’s rendezvous.

  Aunt Betsy was the first to recover. Always the diplomat, she bustled forward as if nothing were amiss, and said, “Oh, there you are! I thought you two would be off somewhere reminiscing over old childhood mischief.” She shook her finger at Robert. “You were always the naughty one, Robert, teasing Noramary and tricking her into leaving her chores so she could run off and play.” She laughed merrily and, turning to Duncan, put her hand on his arm. “What a time I had with these two children, Duncan. And now here’s Robert all grown up and almost a full-fledged doctor.” She prattleded on while the three other people in the little scenario stared at each other, speechless.

  Then Aunt Betsy stopped her chatter and asked in all innocence, “But, Robert, I don’t believe you’ve ever met Noramary’s husband, have you, dear boy? And Duncan, this is the nephew of one of our oldest friends, Robert Stedd.”

  At the introduction a dark flush spread rapidly over Duncan’s face, and a muscle tensed in his jaw.

  “Robert?” he repeated. “Robert Stedd?” There was a steely quality in his voice as he repeated the name.

  “Your servant, sir,” Robert acknowledged, bowing slightly.

  Noramary looked from one to the other as the two men evaluated each other icily. A tangible tension crackled between them. It was as if they recognized each other as adversaries—rivals. For under the veneer of polite exchanges seethed the truth that she belonged to Duncan in name; to Robert, by virtue of his steadfast love for her.

  Finally Aunt Betsy broke the dreadful silence. Moving over to Robert, she slipped her hand through his arm. “Now, Robert, I do want to hear all about your plans to study in Scotland. Your uncle was just telling me and Will…” She steered him tactfully to the door, calling back over her shoulder to Noramary and Duncan, “Come along, you two. Supper will be served soon.”

  Duncan gave Noramary a stiff little bow and offered her his arm without a word.

  Noramary moved distractedly through the remainder of the evening. All she could think was how the scene he had happened upon must have looked to Duncan. Surely now it would be futile to hope that he would ever understand the circumstances.

  Outside, church bells began to chime the hour of midnight; inside, the wooden clackers, whisdes, and horns given to the party guests began an ear-splitting cacophony, welcoming in the new year.

  But Noramaiys heart knew no joy. How could she join in the riotous celebration? For her, the year ahead held only the promise of bitterness and pain.

  chapter

  18

  NEW YEAR’S DAY dawned dreary and bleak. Noramary stared out the window of
her bedroom at the Barnwell home, sipping her morning tea and reliving the events of the days just past. Parting with the Barnwells would be difficult enough, knowing the loneliness that awaited her at Montclair, but the long ride from Williamsburg with the grimly silent Duncan would be almost unbearable.

  He had not spoken an unnecessary word to her since leaving the Langleys’ party the night before, seeing her with Robert in what she felt sure he had mistaken as a romantic rendezvous.

  Even more than that, a note that had been delivered to her that morning weighed heavily on Noramary’s heart. Essie, the upstairs maid, had brought it to her with her breakfast tray.

  “A little boy who b’long to Dr. Stedd brang this earlier, Miss Noramary. Say I was only to gib it to yo’ when you wuz by yo’self.”

  Noramary recognized Robert’s handwriting even before she tore open the envelope. The first few lines set her heart beating, flooded her face with color.

  My darling Noramary,

  What bittersweet joy to see you last night, and what sadness overcame me at so brief a meeting, and so soon a parting. Are you happy, my dearest? If only I knew that you were, without any doubt, without any uncertainty, then perhaps I could reconcile myself to having lost you. If that were a certain fact, I could then… somehow… go on with my life, assured that the one I care most for in this world was happy. Because I do not know if this is true, I have to live without that knowledge, and without you. The world indeed looks gray and without hope or cheer, and sometimes even without purpose. I will always hold you in my heart, since I cannot and never again will hold you to my heart. I pray you are happy, that God will bless you richly.

  Forever… your most affectionate,

  Robert

  Noramary glanced out the window. The day was gray, heavy with snow clouds rolling across the wintry sky. A blustery wind whipped the branches of the bare trees, and Noramary shivered. Before she could sort her confused thoughts, a little tap at the door was followed immediately by Aunt Betsy’s rosy face.

  “Are you almost ready, dear? Duncan has arrived and is anxious to get underway before the weather worsens. Do you need any help with packing?”

  Guiltily, Noramary wondered if her aunt could possibly read her mind. Rising, she tucked Robert’s note surreptitiously in the jewel case lying open on the dressing table. Then she snapped the lid shut and turned quickly to answer her aunt’s inquiry.

  “No thank you, Aunt Betsy. And, yes, I’m nearly ready.”

  Her heart was pounding crazily. Could the expression on her face in any way betray her state of mind? Nothing much ever escaped her aunt’s keen observation.

  Noramary folded a chemise and placed it inside a small portmanteau she had been packing. Then she stood for a moment, distracted, trying to compose herself.

  “I suggest you hurry, dear. Duncan is not a patient man,” Aunt Betsy reminded her gently.

  There seemed to be some special significance in that remark, Noramary thought, glancing at her aunt. And indeed there was, as Aunt Betsy’s next words confirmed.

  “My dear Noramary, it pains me to speak of this, but I feel I must. It was foolish and indiscreet of you and Robert to go off by yourselves as you did last night. I know neither of you considered the possible scandal such action might bring, but surely you remember your upbringing—the things your Uncle Will and I have tried to teach you. Christian ladies should not give even the slightest appearance of wrong doing.”

  Noramary felt the sting of tears. To be so rebuked by her aunt cut her to the quick. There was no need to try to explain. She knew she stood accused of, if not deliberate flaunting of convention, certainly at the very least, irresponsible behavior. Such indiscretion was inexcusable, she knew.

  There was another knock at the door. This time it had a peremptory sound and, when Aunt Betsy opened it, Duncan stepped into the room.

  “We must leave at once, Noramary, if we are to avoid getting caught in a snowstorm,” he said curtly. “Are you ready?”

  Noramary quickly closed her portmanteau.

  “You forget your jewel case,” Aunt Betsy reminded her.

  Remembering Robert’s note hidden inside, Noramary’s heart nearly stopped. She started to reopen the latches of her luggage when Duncan moved quickly to the dressing table and picked up the velvet box. “I’ll take it.”

  Noramary felt as though she might faint. She knew Duncan kept the Montrose Bridal Set, along with other valuables, locked away in a strongbox in the library at Montclair. There was little chance he would open it before putting it away… but how could she retrieve Robert’s letter? What if Duncan found it?

  Sick with apprehension, there was nothing Noramary could do but watch helplessly as Duncan slipped the narrow case into the inside pocket of his coat.

  “Ready?” he asked her, holding out her cape.

  Noramary allowed him to place the jade green wool cape around her shoulders. With hands that shook she fastened the braid frogs, then reached for a beaver muff and slipped her suddenly clammy hands inside. Silently she passed through the door he held open for her, preceded by her aunt.

  Feeling dizzy, Noramary endured the farewells at the bottom of the stairs, then, on Duncan’s arm, went out to the waiting carriage.

  On the long journey to Montclair, Noramary huddled in one corner, pretending to sleep. Her mind, however, was racing. Every once in a while she glanced over at Duncan, who was staring out the carriage window, lost in his own dark thoughts.

  Besides the pressing problem of recovering Robert’s note, how, she asked herself, was she to endure this loveless marriage, this cold indifference?

  It was late when they finally reached Montclair, barely ahead of the first real winter storm, and Noramary awoke at dawn to a world blanketed in snowdrifts.

  She had slept only fitfully and, during the night, startled into wakefulness by nightmares, had lain staring into the darkness. Her every thought, waking or sleeping, was of Duncan and what might happen if he opened the jewel case and found Robert’s note.

  Housebound by the blizzard for the next week, Noramary lived in an agony of fear, praying constantly for God’s mercy—and for Duncan’s.

  At the beginning of the third week in January the snow began to melt, making the roads passable once more. With the moderating temperatures came a message from Jacqueline Cameron offering Noramary a change from her prison of doubt and fear. It was an invitation to visit Cameron Hall.

  “It will be a ladies house party,” wrote Jacqueline in her flowing script, “although husbands are welcome! The fashion dolls I ordered from Paris have arrived, and I thought you would enjoy seeing the latest Parisian styles.”

  For ladies in the Virginia colonies, the arrival of the so-called fashion dolls, actually small manikins dressed in the height of fashion, was always a high point of the year. From these tiny models wearing miniature clothing, they could view the latest in fashionable attire, cut patterns from them, and have them copied by skilled seamstresses. Noramary remembered how Aunt Betsy had always anticipated the twice-yearly event in Williamsburg.

  After receiving the invitation, Noramary’s initial enthusiasm waned as she wondered what Duncan’s reaction would be. Would he allow her to make such a visit? Would he allow her to go?

  She gathered her courage and went to find him. He was in the library, sitting at his desk with a sheaf of papers in his hand. At her entrance Duncan looked up with a frown. Few words had passed between them since their return from the holidays. Noramary knew the incident with Robert Stedd had not been forgotten. This, compounded by whatever else had embittered him, made the wall between Noramary and Duncan even more impenetrable.

  When she mentioned Jacqueline’s invitation, his only reaction was to inquire when she would be leaving.

  “Jacqueline says she will send her carriage for me tomorrow afternoon, if I can go. Her man, Len, is waiting in the servants’ quarters to take my answer back to her.”

  “Then by all means, do as you wish,”
Duncan said indifferently.

  ’Thank you, Duncan,” she said in a small voice. She stood there another minute, twisting her hands nervously while she pondered the advisability of making another request.

  “Yes? Is there something more?” he asked in an annoyed tone of voice.

  “Well… I was wondering, Duncan. Since there will be a festive party… might I wear the Bridal Set?” Noramary’s heart was beating wildly. What if he had already checked the jewels and found Robert’s note among them?

  Duncan said nothing at first. Then, he pushed back his chair, stood, and went to the locked cabinet where he kept the strongbox.

  Breathlessly Noramary watched as he unlocked it and withdrew the rectangular case. Her mouth went dry in terror.

  Please, Lord, don’t let him open it!

  Duncan stood for what seemed an endless moment, simply holding the case thoughtfully. Then, without a word, he turned and handed it to her.

  Noramary’s legs managed to propel her through the door and out into the hallway without giving way. But once she was safe in the haven of her bedroom, she fell to her knees beside the bed, unable to stem the torrent of tears. She opened the case with trembling hands. To her immense relief Robert’s letter lay, undisturbed, on the top.

  Noramary got up from her knees and, taking the letter, she hid it carefully under her lingerie in one of the dresser drawers. When she was calmer, when she could think exactly what to say, she would answer the letter, she told herself weakly.

  Recalling the scene as she rode to Cameron Hall the next day, Noramary thought ruefully that it might have been better if Duncan had refused her request. At least that would have shown his interest in whether she came or went. Even that small knowledge would have been some consolation.

  Noramary pressed her fingers to her throbbing temples. Her constant tension brought on nagging headaches.

  If it had not been for her desperate need to escape the oppressive atmosphere at Montclair, she might not have made the effort to go. Lately Noramary had experienced some troubling physical disturbances to add to her emotional distress.