The Gentleman's Bride Search

by Deborah Hale

  “You should not leave food on your plate,” Owen said in a respectful yet strangely authoritative tone that was difficult to disregard. “There are plenty of people who would be glad to have a full belly. That’s what you always tell us.”

  What could she say to that?

  Miss Brookes came to her rescue. “Why don’t the children come down with me while you clean your plate?”

  Evangeline nodded. “That is an excellent idea, thank you. Go along, children. I know I can rely on you to behave well for Miss Brookes and Miss Webster.”

  Her pupils trooped away with a subdued air. When they had gone, Evangeline forced forkful after forkful of food between her lips until her skittish stomach rebelled. Duty urged her to join her pupils as soon as possible, but the prospect of playing accompaniment to Jasper and Miss Webster’s love ballad duet held her back.

  At last, she knew she could delay no longer without raising awkward questions. Inhaling several slow breaths to gather her composure, she practiced her facial expression in the looking glass. Clearly her miserable attempt at a smile was not fooling anyone. Perhaps a placid, sober countenance would raise less suspicion. She fixed one in place like a mask and headed off to the great parlor.

  As she descended the stairs, she met Mr. Webster on his way up.

  “How fortunate we should meet, Miss Fairfax,” the big mill owner declared, though Evangeline suspected he had been watching for her. “I would be grateful for a word with you, if I may.”

  “Of course, sir.” Drawing on the harsh lessons of her girlhood, Evangeline refused to let him intimidate her. “First, I must join the children at their concert practice. But as soon as they finish—”

  Mr. Webster cut her off without ceremony. “The children are in excellent hands with my daughter. She is very fond of them all and they get on well with her, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I would indeed, sir,” she answered truthfully.

  If she heeded reason rather than her rebellious, selfish heart, she knew Margaret Webster would make a far better wife and mother to the Chases than she ever could.

  Mr. Webster softened his tone. “I will not take much of your time, Miss Fairfax. There is just a thing or two I would like to say.”

  “Very well, then.” She continued down the stairs. “The small sitting room should be empty. I will be able to hear the children from there if they need me.”

  A moment later, she turned to face Mr. Webster, who had shut the sitting room door behind them. “What is it you wish to discuss, sir?”

  He planted his feet wide and clasped his hands behind his back. “I won’t beat about the bush. It’s you and Mr. Chase I want to talk about. What does he mean to you and you to him?”

  “I am his children’s governess.” Her guilty blush surely contradicted her prim reply. “I have worked for him these past six years.”

  “And you feel nothing more for him than any loyal worker feels for a good, fair employer?” Mr. Webster shook his head. “Do you think I am blind or daft, young lady? I saw the way you lit up when he danced with you last night. I’ve spotted the two of you out walking more than one early morning. Last night you stole away from the assembly to make him go after you. It will not do, you know. Jasper Chase is going to marry my daughter and I will not have you spoil it.”

  As he spoke, Evangeline’s blazing blush cooled until her face felt as if it had been carved out of hard-packed snow. “I have no intention of spoiling anything, Mr. Webster, and I most certainly did not want Mr. Chase to follow me back from the assembly. If he wishes to marry your daughter, I will do nothing to stand in their way—quite the contrary, in fact.”

  “Do you mean that?” Mr. Webster looked doubtful.

  “This house party was my idea,” Evangeline replied. “Ask Mrs. Thorpe if you do not believe me. When you saw me walking with Mr. Chase, I was giving him advice about how to court your daughter.”

  She savored the look of confusion on Mr. Webster’s beefy face. “What made you do all that?”

  As briefly as possible, Evangeline explained her plan to find Jasper a wife so she would be free to start her charity school. When she finished, Mr. Webster looked as remorseful as Alfie after he had gotten into some serious mischief. “Well, I got the wrong end of that stick and no mistake. I beg your pardon, lass, for suspecting you of any impropriety. I just want to see Margaret married to a good, steady man like Jasper Chase who won’t tolerate any foolishness. Becoming a mother of his brood will settle her down soon enough.”

  Though she wasn’t entirely certain what he meant, Evangeline nodded.

  “So he was telling me the truth last night,” Mr. Webster continued, more to himself than to her.

  “The truth about what?” The words burst from Evangeline before she could remind herself it was no business of hers.

  “About wanting to marry Margaret. He asked my blessing to propose to her.”

  Mr. Webster’s words seemed to freeze Evangeline’s whole body to match her face. Why had Jasper kissed her last night if he intended to propose to another woman? Why had he asked her to marry him only hours ago? Had he meant to hold Margaret Webster in reserve in case she refused him?

  If that was the case, how dare he plead with her and urge her to abandon her life’s work, tearing her heart in two, while he had other marriage plans waiting in the wings?

  Her outrage denounced Jasper in her thoughts so loud that she almost missed Mr. Webster’s next words. “How soon will you need to leave Amberwood to start this school of yours?”

  She explained how long Jasper had delayed her and told Mr. Webster of the recent need for haste.

  “Bless me,” he replied. “It sounds as if there is not a moment to lose.”

  It was good to hear someone else acknowledge that.

  Evangeline nodded.

  “Then you should go at once.”

  “What, now?” she cried. “Today?”

  “When better? There are plenty of others to look after the children until their father can make arrangements for a new governess. With the concert and all, they’ll hardly notice you’ve gone.” Mr. Webster meant to reassure her, Evangeline knew, but instead his words dealt her a cruel blow.

  Could he be right? Much as she loved the children, was she not as indispensable to them as she liked to believe?

  “I will do all I can to help you, my dear,” he offered with an air of fatherly solicitude she found hard to resist. “I owe you that and more after the way I misjudged you. Whenever you need to go, I shall put my coachman and carriage at your disposal.”

  Where would she go to begin her mission and her new life? “Even as far as Nottinghamshire? I could not impose upon you so much.”

  “Do not think of it.” Mr. Webster waved away her objections. He rummaged in his pockets and began unfolding banknotes. “My coachman can deliver you to Nottinghamshire and be back before I need my carriage again. Here, you will need a bit of brass for inns and meals and such. What you do not spend, consider a donation to your school. Write to me when you get settled and I will arrange a more substantial contribution.”

  Evangeline blinked at the value of the banknotes he pressed into her hand. “That is vastly generous of you, sir.”

  “There are things worth a great deal more than money, Miss Fairfax. I shall sleep sounder at night knowing those poor orphaned girls are being properly cared for. Now, you will want to make a start while you still have a good bit of daylight to get on your way. You go pack while I tell the coachman to harness the horses.”

  “But the children...” Evangeline knew she should not turn down this blessed opportunity. Yet the thought of leaving Emma, Matthew, Alfie, Owen and Rosie so abruptly was almost more than she could bear. “What will I tell them? Then there is the concert...”

  “We will all manage, my dear.” Mr. Webs
ter patted her arm. “It will likely be easier on the young ones if you go quick and don’t draw out your leave-taking.”

  He was right, of course. Hadn’t she seen that with Jasper’s departures for Manchester? The children recovered sooner when his goodbye was swift and clean. The more he prolonged it, the more it upset them.

  That was the last thing she wanted.

  * * *

  “What is all this?” Jasper surveyed his children, lined up outside the nursery in their best clothes with their faces scrubbed and their hair neatly brushed. “You look as if you’re going to a funeral not a concert. Where is Miss Fairfax? Perhaps she can tell me what ails you.”

  No sooner had he spoken than Rosie’s lower lip began to quiver ominously and her eyes filled with tears. Emma rushed to comfort her little sister. Though she did not weep, her delicate face looked positively stricken. The boys’ eyes were all downcast and their lips pressed tightly together as if clinging to their composure by a thread. What had come over them all? And why were Abigail Brookes and Verity Dawson hovering nearby with guilty looks on the faces?

  As Jasper knelt to put his arms around his daughters, Owen announced, “She’s gone, Papa.”

  Matthew found his voice, too. “She said it might not be for long, but she took all her things away with her. She wouldn’t do that if she meant to come back, would she?”

  Jasper did not have to ask which she they meant. Part of him had known before the children even spoke.

  Alfie lost his battle to keep up a brave front.

  “I don’t want to have the concert without M-Miss Fairfax!” he wailed.

  “Neither do I.” Owen shook his head. “I couldn’t sing or recite because I have a big lump in my throat.”

  “I have one, too,” said Matthew. “I wonder what it is and why it comes when I feel saddest?”

  Jasper did not know what to tell his son. That same lump of misery had been lodged in his throat ever since he’d marched out of the nursery that morning. He wasn’t sure it would ever go away.

  He gathered all the children close to him and tried to comfort them as best he could. Soon they were all weeping, even Owen, in a way that rent his heart. He cast a questioning, reproachful glance at Abigail Brookes.

  “I’m sorry!” she cried. “Miss Fairfax made us promise not to tell you. She left a few hours ago. She didn’t say where she was going.”

  “She went in Mr. Webster’s carriage,” Verity volunteered with a hesitant air, as if she feared she would get in trouble for speaking.

  Piers Webster’s carriage? Urgent questions seared away Jasper’s shock and sorrow. “I agree we should postpone our concert under the circumstances. Now, I need your help, my dears. Will you do something for me?”

  They looked at him with tear-streaked faces that made his heart ache. But every one of them nodded bravely.

  “Dry your eyes and go along with Miss Brookes and Mrs. Dawson. Have your tea early then get ready for bed.”

  “But why, Papa?” asked Matthew.

  “I’ll explain later.” Jasper kissed each of them on the forehead. “For now just trust me and do as I ask. I will be back later to hear your prayers and tuck you in.”

  Alfie swiped at his brimming eyes with the back of his hand and announced fiercely, “I know what I’m going to pray for.”

  “So do I.” Jasper ruffled his son’s hair. “So will we all.”

  He watched them go off with the ladies then he stalked down to the great parlor where he found the Websters, the Levesons, his mother-in-law and Norton Brookes.

  Jasper marched up to Piers Webster and demanded, “Who gave you the right to meddle in my life?”

  “I beg your pardon?” Webster had the gall to look bewildered by his question.

  “What has Father done, Mr. Chase?” As Margaret Webster approached them, the others discreetly withdrew from the room.

  “I have done nothing that concerns him or you,” Mr. Webster protested to his daughter.

  “Are you saying Evangeline Fairfax stole your carriage to leave Amberwood?” Jasper thundered.

  “Nothing of the kind.” The older man scowled as if gravely offended. “The lady asked for my assistance and I was happy to oblige her. If you call yourself a Christian, you would have done the same two years ago.”

  Jasper flinched. Was it so wrong to want to keep Evangeline here with him and his children when other children might need her even more? Ever since their encounter that morning, he had not been able to stop thinking about what she’d said and the impossible challenge she had set him. He had begun to glimpse a possible compromise, but now the chance to work things out was gone with her.

  “Perhaps I should have.” He acknowledged his wrong and lifted a silent plea for forgiveness. “But something tells me it was more than Christian charity that made you pack Miss Fairfax off to who-knows-where without my knowledge.”

  Guilt blazed on Piers Webster’s broad features. “What does it matter that she’s gone? You and Margaret can hire a new governess for the children. If you have any sense, you will get one who’s older and not so pretty.”

  “Father,” Margaret Webster spoke in a quiet yet ominous tone. “What have you done? And why should I have anything to do with hiring a governess for Mr. Chase’s children?”

  “You know...when the two of you are...married. He would have proposed by now if he hadn’t been distracted by that Miss Fairfax. Not that she wanted it, mind you. The lady did her best to bring about a match between the two of you.” Mr. Webster turned toward Jasper. “Now that she is gone, the least you can do is honor her wishes by proposing to my daughter.”

  Jasper cast Margaret Webster an apologetic look. Poor lady, caught in the middle of all this. He had given far too little thought to her feelings. Perhaps, for the sake of peace, he ought to give in and do what everyone else seemed to expect of him.

  Should he try to forget Evangeline Fairfax and ask Margaret Webster to marry him instead?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Seated in the library of Knightley Park, Evangeline leaned forward and gave Marian Radcliffe’s hand an affectionate squeeze. “I do hope you and your husband can forgive me for appearing on your doorstep without a word of warning. It was kind of you to make me so welcome, under the circumstances.”

  “Tosh.” Marian chuckled as she drew back and began to pour them tea. “It was a lovely surprise. I wish our other friends would drop in on me like this, but it’s not so easy now that we all have families to consider. That is one selfish reason I will be so pleased to get our school up and running, so we can all get together for regular meetings of the trustees.”

  “Ah, yes—the school.” Evangeline pulled a wry face. Seeing Marian again after so many years brought their school days much closer and made her feel guiltier than ever about how she had neglected her duty. “I cannot tell you how sorry I am for taking so long to get started. When I think if those poor children at Pendergast, sick and dying, I wonder if I can ever forgive myself.”

  “That was not your fault,” said Marian in that reassuring way Evangeline remembered so well. “I hope my letter did not make it sound as if I blamed you.”

  She passed Evangeline a steaming cup of tea. “I did not mean to drag you away from the Chases. I only wondered—well, we all did—whether you might have changed your mind about wanting to run the school. We worried you might think you’d be letting us down, but of course, you wouldn’t. We wanted to give you an excuse to change your mind if you were so inclined.”

  She fixed Evangeline with her perceptive gaze, which had a way of always getting at the truth. “Are you so inclined? Believe me, none of us will think any less of you for it.”

  “I want to do this.” Evangeline strove to persuade her friend of her certainty...and perhaps herself, as well.

  On the
long journey from Amberwood, reading Marian’s last letter over and over, she had clung to Mr. Webster’s assurance that establishing the school was a matter of great urgency and importance. The sights she’d glimpsed while traveling through England’s industrial Midlands had opened her eyes to the hardship so prevalent outside the peaceful Vale of Eden. All those things had reinforced her commitment to the work she knew she was meant to do.

  But even in the short time she’d been a guest at Knightley Park, doubts had begun to gnaw at her resolve. Seeing how happy Marian and Captain Radcliffe were in their marriage and their family made her long to experience that sweet domestic fulfillment for herself. When she spent time with Marian’s adopted daughters and little son, she felt the loss of Emma, Matthew, Alfie, Owen and Rosie as if the five fingers of her right hand had been amputated.

  “I don’t doubt that you want to.” Marian’s tone of loyal sympathy made it sound as if she understood far more of Evangeline’s situation than her friend had told her. “But is that all you want?”

  It was no use trying to conceal anything from someone who seemed to know so much already. Evangeline shook her head. “I cannot deny I want more than just that. But I cannot have everything I want and since I must choose...”

  “The other things you want,” Marian prompted her. “Do they include the love of a husband and children? None of your friends would want you to give that up and I do not believe the Lord would, either.”

  Evangeline wished she could share her friend’s staunch certainty. “There is more to it than that. I feel if I give up one for the other, I would lose a part of myself.”

  “Why is that?” Marian’s brow creased with a look of fond concern.

  Her entreaty was too powerful for Evangeline to resist. Laying the whole complicated situation before her friend might not yield a solution, but at least it might confirm in her own mind that she had done the right thing in coming here. “Do you remember when we were at school how the teachers used to say I would never get a husband if I did not subdue my strong will and independent streak?”