The Rake’s Hesitant Bride: Historical Regency Romance (Ladybirds of Birdwell Book 2)

by Ella Edon

  "Oh, what a fool I have been!" Sally whispered, her voice catching and filled with tears as they passed by the farm. "I believe you were right after all, Merope. Sense, logic and intellect should rule our lives, not passion, or love, or the heat of emotion.”

  "Sally," Merope said, hardly able to speak herself. "There is sometimes a place for love and – and for emotion – when the time is right – when – "

  But Sally seemed not to have heard her. "I have seen what happens when emotion is allowed to run wild. Oh, I wish I were as cool and dispassionate about all things as you are!"

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  That evening, once she was safely back home in the familiar, simple comfort of the Robbins Inn, Merope told herself that she must try her best to return to a normal life and do things as she always had. It seemed to her that the life she had always somehow hoped to have – a husband, a family, a true home of her own – was simply not in the cards for her, as the gamblers in the inn's dining room might say.

  There would be no sense in longing for something she could never have. She was not a country girl, born and raised on a farm as young women like Sally was, nor was she a city girl, for she knew nothing of how to live in a place like London.

  She had gone through life in a kind of strange in-between existence, being neither country nor city, with no home to call her own except a room in a small-town inn.

  Merope knew that if she was truly being honest with herself, as she had always insisted that she wanted to be, she would have to accept her life the way it was and learn to live with it. She would have liked to marry, but not to just anyone . . . and now, after the night of the Albany House ball, there was a solid wall around her heart that would prevent any other man from so much as getting near her.

  She had already given her heart once, fully and completely. It was no longer there to be given again.

  Having unpacked her trunk and changed clothes after the journey, Merope sat in the quiet of the kitchen, at the table with her mother, for a late meal and a cup of coffee with cream.

  "Is that all you can tell me about the ball? That you danced with James Brookford and Daniel Bird, and then walked in the moonlight to escape the crush?" said her mother, clearly disappointed. "It was quite the event, everyone was talking about it, even out here in Birdwell. The only thing to compare it to would be the series of assembly balls held here last year!"

  "I know, Mother. Perhaps the earl and his wife will start them again, now that they've been married and have had time to settle in together."

  "I should certainly hope so," Mrs. Robbins said. "I was very happy to hold two of the three balls right here in our inn. It was quite good for business! As well as being quite enjoyable for the townspeople, of course."

  "Of course." Merope stirred a little more cream into her coffee. "It was an enjoyable country party, but I am afraid nothing much changed for me. No proposal and no prospect of one. I suppose I will not be buying any more new dresses or riding habits for a while."

  "Oh, don't give up yet," her mother said. "There is still time. You never know what might grow next year from seeds planted today."

  Merope nearly dropped her coffee spoon. Her hands shook so much that she could not pick up her cup. Instead, trying to hide her trembling, she reached into her apron pocket and placed a small cloth-wrapped packet onto the table beside her mother's plate.

  "What's this?" Mrs. Robbins unwrapped it and lifted out the gold-and-ruby pendant. "Oh, of course. Did you wear it? It looked so pretty with your pink silk gown."

  "I did. I did wear it." Though the truth was that Merope did not want to see the pendant ever again – not after the night in the millhouse. "Thank you, Mother, for loaning it to me."

  Her mother smiled at her. "I've decided that it was not a loan. I want it to be yours, from now on." She wrapped up the pendant again and pressed it back into her daughter's hand.

  "But – "

  "It's yours, I said. Wear it. Or don't wear it. But it belongs to you now."

  Merope surrendered. “Thank you,” she murmured. She closed her hand around the fabric and tucked it back into her apron pocket, fully intending to never look at the ruby pendant ever again.

  She started to get up from the table, but her mother reached out and stopped her. "I have something else for you," she said, and handed Merope a folded white note with a bright red seal. "It arrived while you were at Albany House."

  Normally, such a note would have been quite exciting, but right then, Merope felt only dread at having to attend another picnic, or party, or ball, or anything else where James Brookford might be in attendance. Her mother sat patiently waiting for Merope to open it. At last, she broke the red wax seal and read the message written in the fine hand on the heavy white paper.

  "It is from Lord and Lady Worthington," she murmured, glancing over the writing.

  "I thought as much!" said her mother, nodding with satisfaction. "Are they doing another series of assembly balls? I think another series could be even bigger than the first!"

  Merope smiled. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mother, but it is nothing nearly so grand. It seems that the earl is holding a few cubbing meets in the fall up at Worthington . . . " She paused and shook her head. "For some strange reason, I am invited."

  Mrs. Robbins quickly snatched the invitation out of Merope's fingers. "Cubbing? That's all?" She was clearly disappointed.

  "Cubbing is when they train the hounds for the hunts in the winter – "

  "I told you, I know very well what cubbing is!" said Mrs. Robbins. "It is hardly a ball, but there may very well be plenty of eligible young men there taking part. The earl has countless friends from both city and country. Some of them are certain to attend, for young men often enjoy the informality of such events more than they do a formal ball."

  "Indeed. More chances for drinking and gambling," said Merope under her breath. She had seen that often enough right here at the inn – and at the Albany House ball.

  Her eyes opened wide. James and the earl were cousins. Surely, he would be there for cubbing – but he was the last man she ever wanted to see, ever again.

  "Now, then," her mother said, scanning the invitation. "Yes, you are invited to attend the cubbing meets in the fall. They will provide a horse for you. The Countess Worthington would be especially pleased if you would come, for she is also riding out for the first time."

  "I'm sure she is," said Merope, but all she could think of was the degree of humiliation she would suffer at seeing James again. Everyone knew that they had had something of a courtship. Everyone would also know that she and James had never spoken to each other again after the ball at his home.

  They would all rightly conclude that he had not wanted her at all, even if they did not know how she had been carried away at thinking that he did.

  Her mother lowered the invitation. "You do intend to go, don't you, Merope?"

  She started to answer, and then hesitated. "I – I cannot ride well enough for that. We have no horse to practice on. I do not see how – "

  But Mrs. Robbins only shook her head. "As before, you give up on things so easily. You look for any excuse to refuse. Where in life has that gotten you so far?"

  It would have kept me from being disgraced and discarded at the Albany House ball! Merope wished she could say as much, but only looked down at the floor.

  "You have the most important thing," her mother went on. "You have a fine new riding habit that fits you perfectly and is exactly the right shade of blue to bring out your eyes."

  "Ah – yes – but I must be able to ride, if I am to follow even a cub hunt."

  "Mr. Brookford once offered to teach you, and even took you out on a Worthington pony for a lesson. Could he not – " Then Mrs. Robbins frowned, for she saw the cold and painful refusal on Merope's face. "I see. I suppose there is no chance of him coming around again for another bit of instruction."

  Very slowly, looking at the floor again, Merope shook her head.

/>   "Very well, then. I wonder how Mr. Brookford will feel when he sees that you have simply given up on something yet again – and this time you have refused an invitation from Lord and Lady Worthington themselves!"

  Merope set her jaw. She was feeling quite trapped here, between wanting to protect herself and wanting to show James that she did not need him at all.

  "You are forgetting – I am very much hoping for another set of assembly balls to be held here in Birdwell, preferably right here at our inn. This is no time to snub the earl by refusing a very kind invitation from him and his wife!"

  Closing her eyes, Merope sighed and realized that she was indeed quite trapped. Perhaps this time, her mother would win, for holding another series of assembly balls at the inn would be very good for both the inn - and for several of the other businesses in Birdwell, such as the Fabrics, Feathers & Fineries shop. There was no way Mrs. Robbins could hold the series of balls without the blessings of the earl and his wife.

  "All right, then, Mother," she whispered. "I will go. I do have that expensive riding habit, after all, and it is not practical for going to the market."

  "Good. Good," Mrs. Robbins said approvingly. "I am very pleased to hear it. This could open new doors for all of us!"

  "There is still one problem, however," Merope said.

  "They said they would provide a horse for you, Merope. They surely know that we do not have any horse, much less a hunter. So, you need not worry about that."

  "It is neither horse nor habit that worry me. It is what happens when I put those two together."

  "Yes, yes, you mentioned that before. Well, then, if having Mr. Brookford teach you is not possible, I suggest you simply go and speak to old Mr. Hawkins at the livery barn."

  Merope raised her head at that.

  "He always keeps quiet horses for use by those who ride little but need to go somewhere and cannot afford a vehicle, or for use by men too far in their cups to drive but might stay upright on an old horse long enough to reach home – and then turn the horse loose to come back by himself."

  "Then – then perhaps I will go and speak to Mr. Hawkins tomorrow."

  "Good, good! It's settled, then. Finish your coffee and then go upstairs to rest. You do look tired. I don't think you slept for long while you were at Albany House."

  Merope tried to smile. "I suppose not. Good night, Mother."

  "Good night, dear." Her mother got up to see to more of the endless tasks around the inn.

  Perhaps it was well enough for her to attend the cubbing hunt. It was true that she did not want him to think he had driven her out of polite society with – with rejecting her after what they had both done. And if he did show up at the hunt, she did not have to speak to him. It might even be strangely satisfying to simply cut him dead and show him very plainly that her life was going on quite nicely without him.

  But first, she would have to learn to ride.

  For the next several weeks, while keeping to her usual working routine with her mother at the inn, Merope also made time to practicing riding. She spoke to old Mr. Hawkins at the livery stable at the far north end of the street, and right away he led her down the barn and showed her a white horse – who was also the biggest horse she had ever seen.

  "This is Grey Goose," said Mr. Hawkins. "The biggest, strongest dray horse I've ever had, and also the quietest and the steadiest. I'll fit a saddle to him, and you can rent him for an hour, say twice a week. I think that will let you practice well enough to keep up with a cubbing hunt."

  "That sounds very fine," she answered. "But – he is enormous! Wouldn't a much smaller horse be more suited to my size?"

  "Huh," said Mr. Hawkins. "The bigger the animal, the slower it moves. It'll give you a better chance to learn to stay with him. You can always try a different horse once Goose has taught you what you need to learn."

  So, she did ride out at least twice a week, jogging up and down the main street, as well as plodding along the road that ran behind the inn and the one that ran alongside the Feathering River. Before long, she had learned to stay with the big horse no matter what he did, even jogging him over a very small fallen log with no trouble.

  Merope was beginning to look forward to the cubbing hunt. She told herself that she would simply go and enjoy a day in the beautiful countryside, the guest of Lord and Lady Worthington themselves, and come home again just as peacefully as when she left.

  She would do all this calmly and dispassionately, as any sensible person should do. James Brookford would not even enter her mind. By the date of the hunt, she was certain she would have quite forgotten him . . . the same way he had clearly forgotten about her.

  Chapter Thirty

  At last, the day for the cubbing ride arrived. On a beautiful morning in early September, a nervous Merope got herself dressed in the fine blue habit and fastened up her riding boots. One of the best things about the riding habit was its pockets, so she was able to take a few handkerchiefs and a little money without having to carry a reticule dangling from her wrist. I wish all my dresses had pockets in them, she thought, as she left the inn and walked along the boardwalk in the direction of the north.

  Before long, she was riding along beside Mr. Hawkins in a small gig that was pulled by old Grey Goose himself. She had not wanted to be dusty on arriving at Worthington, and so her mother had agreed that hiring a vehicle to get there was a sensible idea. Now, Goose trotted along with his great ponderous strides and they would be arriving in no time.

  "Just remember what you've learned these past weeks, Miss Robbins," said Mr. Hawkins. "You'll do just fine. Take a bit of time to acquaint yourself with whatever mount they bring out for you. You've done well with old Goose, but he is familiar to you."

  "I wish I could just ride him on the cubbing hunt," she confessed. "I think I would feel much better if I could."

  "But he would have trouble keeping up," said Mr. Hawkins. "He is so large that it would be hard for him to do much jumping – he's not been trained for it, at any rate. He is built for strength and not speed. Goose is a cart horse and it would strain him to try to keep up with a hunt, even a little cub hunt."

  "I understand. I have just become quite comfortable with him."

  "That is a very good step. Just remember what you have learned, and keep in mind that most horses are smaller and therefore quicker than what Goose is."

  Merope laughed. "After that very small and very wicked pony that I rode some months ago, I do not think any creature could move any quicker. I promise you, I will get through it somehow."

  "I know you will. Enjoy your time here and remember that old Goose will be waiting should you want any more practice rides."

  "I'll remember, Mr. Hawkins."

  Soon, Grey Goose was pulling the gig up the switchback lanes that led up the hill to Worthington House. The riders were already gathering in the gravel yard in front of the barn and Merope had never felt so apprehensive in her life.

  Again, she was nearly ready to tell Mr. Hawkins to just keep going and take her straight back to the inn . . . but before she could speak to him, Lord Worthington and his wife, Lady Worthington, stepped down from the front porch of the house and walked to the gig.

  "Miss Robbins! We are both so pleased that you have come to join us today," said Lord Worthington, helping her down from the gig.

  "Oh, we certainly are!" said Lady Worthington. "It will be my first time riding along with the hunt, so I am very happy to have your company today!"

  "I thank you both very much for inviting me," Merope said, with a curtsy to them. "I – I suppose it is always good for one to try new things, is it not?"

  "Indeed," said the earl.

  "And, of course," said the countess, "I was quite relieved to learn that no one has to jump over any obstacles unless they wish to. There is always a way around any of them where you do not have to jump at all. I would not be going if it were otherwise! All you have to do is follow those of us who are not jumping, and you will have a very
pleasant ride."

  "I am very grateful to you for that information, My Lady," said Merope with a laugh. "I shall follow you to the best of my ability."

  "And we shall be following the young hounds," said the earl. "If you will go this way, Miss Robbins, you will find your mount waiting for you in the barn. Just ask Levi."

  "Thank you, My Lord."

  "And Mr. Hawkins, we will see that she is returned safely to the front door of the inn. You need not wait for her or come back."

  "Very good, m'lord. Do enjoy your day, Miss Robbins." With that he got Gray Goose turned around and started back towards Birdwell, while the earl and his wife continued greeting their guests.