Destiny's Bride

by Jane Peart

  The room was suddenly still. I hardly dared breathe.

  "Since then, I think Brett has deluded himself that it happened the way he told you. That relieves him of any guilt. The man lives in an alcoholic fog most of the time. I think it's his escape from the hell he's created for himself."

  Randall turned and looked at me steadily. "And that is the truth, Dru. I became alarmed when Alair did not return within a reasonable time, so I saddled up and was starting out to look for her when her horse came back alone." He threw out his hands in a helpless gesture. "You know the rest. It's up to you whom you believe."

  The silence stretched between us. Then Randall said, "Either you trust me or you don't. But without trus t . . . there is no hope for love."

  I saw the muscle tightening along his jawline. He waited for me to speak, but I was too overcome with emotion. The long day's events had depleted my strength.

  Slowly Randall turned and walked out of the room.

  I leaned weakly back against the dressing table, then turned, put my elbows on the top, and covered my face with my hands. As I did so, I knocked over the Dresden figurine Randall had given me for Christmas. It shattered into a dozen pieces.

  With a gasp of dismay, I picked up one of the pieces of porcelain and burst into tears. Could it ever be mended, restored? Or was it damaged as irrevocably as my relationship with Randall seemed to be?

  chapter

  25

  WHEN I FINALLY went to sleep, I slept the sleep of the exhausted. I awoke to find Vinny standing at the foot of my bed.

  "Oh, Miss Dru, I'm so glad to see you 'wake. I been in here two or three times and you never stirred. The children most anxious to see you. They wuz dat worried 'bout you last night."

  Vinny went over to the windows and drew back the curtains, admitting a stream of sunlight.

  "It's a real pretty day, Miss Dru. But Mr. Bondurant, he think you better stay in bed and rest today after yo' bad 'sperience yestiddy."

  I raised myself on my elbows. "There's no need for me to do that, Vinny. I'm perfectly fine," I said, but when I tried to get up I felt the stiffness of sore muscles and eased myself back on my pillows.

  "Now I'll go see 'bout your breakfast tray, Miss Dru. You jes' stay put." Vinny came over and plumped up the pillows behind my back, helping me into a more comfortable position.

  The unusually hard riding, the stress of my encounter with Brett, getting chilled in the rain—all must be having an effect. It did feel good to lie quietly in the soft warm bed and be waited on for a change.

  In addition, I was not ready to face Randall. Keeping to my room today would give me a chance to sort out the tangled threads of our lives.

  At the door Vinny asked, "Can the children come in? Dey out here sittin' on de top of de steps."

  "Oh, yes, Vinny! Tell them I want to see them!"

  In a minute both little girls came running in. Lally threw herself on the bed into my arms, and Nora came next, more gently.

  "Are you all right, Drucie?" she asked anxiously.

  "Yes, darling, I'm fine," I reassured her.

  Lally cuddled close to me. "We missed you, Drucie. We thought you were lost in the forest . . . like Hansel and Gretel!" Her dark eyes were wide but sparkled with mischief.

  I gave her a squeeze, then reached for Nora's hand. "I did a silly thing. I rode too far and got caught in the rain. Something you two'd better never try!" I shook my finger at them playfully.

  "Papa was very upset, Drucie," Nora said solemnly.

  "I know, and I'm sorry I worried everyone."

  "We love you, Drucie, that's why," Lally said, nodding her head. "When you love someone, you cry if anything bad happens to them."

  I pulled her closer. "Well, nothing bad happened and I learned a good lesson. Now, tell me about what you've been learning with Jed," I changed the subject.

  When Vinny brought my tray, I shared my toast and jam with them as we chatted happily. Looking at their bright little faces, listening to their childish talk, a fierce, protective love sprang up within me that was as natural as if they had been born to me. I knew I would never let any harm come to them, whatever it took.

  After they ran off to get ready for their riding lesson, the warmth of my feeling for them lingered. With it came the conviction that above all else that was the bond that held Randall and me together.

  Angry as he had seemed last night, he must know that what I had done was out of my desire to protect him and his children from the malicious slander Brett was spreading. Now I was sure of the truth. In my heart I knew Randall to be incapable of doing what Brett had said—leaving Alair for dead.

  The story Brett had told me was false. I was sure now. Over the years his bitterness had become an obsession fueled by disappointment, rejection, and alcohol.

  Suddenly it seemed imperative that I assure Randall that I believed him. The look of outrage on his face when I had confronted him still disturbed me. I would have to apologize, try to explain why I needed to end my doubts, once and for all.

  Dear Lord, I hope it isn't too late! I whispered as I got out of bed, dressed. Something told me to hurry.

  As I came down the stairs I saw the confirmation of that inner prompting. Lined up at the front door as if for departure stood Randall's leather traveling bags.

  I suppose my shock showed on my face when Randall, coming from his wing of the house, saw me standing at the foot of the steps.

  "I thought it best if I went away for a few days," he said briskly, turning his handsome, elegant profile from me, slapping his gloves several times into the palm of his other hand. I realized he had not anticipated seeing me before he left.

  Instead of grief at the thought of his leaving, I felt indignation. There was unfinished business between us. It ought to be settled now before the rift my doubts had caused between us became a chasm, an impassable bridge.

  "Best for whom?" I asked.

  He seemed surprised by my question. "For—for all of us."

  "You think running away will help?" I demanded.

  Randall's face flushed, his dark eyes snapped. He was not used to being challenged.

  "Running away? I'm not running away."

  "Aren't you?" I countered. "I believe you are afraid to find out the truth. I could have run from it, too. I was afraid of what I might find, but I didn't try to escape."

  "And now that you've found—the truth—or at least what you think is the truth—what now?" Randall was looking at me steadily.

  'That's what I came to tell you," I said. "But it seems you don't want to hear." I started past him, but he reached out, caught my arm, and swung me back to face him.

  '"Whatever you've got to say, I want to hear it."

  I looked into that face I'd come to love, the intensity of the dark eyes that held both fear and hope and my heart responded.

  "Say it. I'm not afraid," Randall said fiercely.

  "I believe you. I love you." I heard my own voice speak the words I had never dared say before.

  In another moment I was in his arms. He was holding me so close I could smell the starch of his ruffled shirt, feel his heart pounding against mine.

  "Oh, my dearest," Randall murmured. "Dearest Dru."

  I felt joyous tears rush into my eyes as I clung to him, but laughter, too, bubbled up inside. I was filled with a kind of giddy happiness.

  Gently Randall released me, held me a little way from him and gazed at me intently. "You're sure?"

  "Very sure," I replied, smiling.

  His hands framed my face, held it for a fraction of a second, then leaning forward, he kissed me gently. I closed my eyes, feeling as if the world were spinning, yet strangely secure in those strong, firm hands. When I opened my eyes, it was all still there—Randall, looking at me with infinite love and tenderness, the hallway shimmering with golden light.

  Suddenly we heard giggles and we both turned to see two little faces pressed between the stair railings from the balcony above.

&nbs
p; We looked at each other, then hand-in-hand went to the bottom of the stairway and stretched out our arms. Nora and Lally came tumbling down to be enclosed in our embrace.

  That evening, after the children were in bed, Randall and I sat together in the firelight of the library and talked for hours. We spoke of the pattern of events that had brought about our present happiness.

  "God works in mysterious ways," Randall said seriously. "You came into my life—our lives—when I needed you most. You brought light and love where there had been so much darkness. Most of all, you brought hope. Hope that life could again have meaning. I'll always be grateful. Every day of my life, I'll get down on my knees and thank God for bringing this 'wonder' to me."

  I had never heard Randall speak like this and I was very touched.

  "For a time it seemed as if I lost my childhood faith. I was embittered by my father's unremitting anger at what was a youthful misstep at worst. Then I grew rebellious. Filled with anger. I wanted to prove I didn't need him or inherited money to succeed. And I went about it in ways I'm not very proud of now."

  "All that's in the past now, Randall, we have the future to think of, to plan for, and it will be wonderful," I promised. "A whole new life."

  He reached over and stroked my cheek. "With you, Druscilla, everything will be new."

  But we were not quite yet free of the past.

  A few days later on my way to the corral to watch Nora and Lally practice their jumps, I saw a rickety wagon with an old black driver come slowly up the road. I stopped and waited until he reined. He tipped his hat and brought out an envelope from his shabby jacket pocket.

  "'Noon, Missus Bondurant," he said. "This here letter is from Mr. Tolliver. He done tole me to bring it ober sooner, but my wagon wheel was broke and warn't fixed 'til today." He held out the letter to me.

  Were we never to be free? Was there no end to Brett Tolliver's persecution?

  'Too bad 'bout Mr. Tolliver, Missus. He were a fine gemmelmen 'till he took to drinkin'," the man said as he turned the wagon around.

  His words did not register at once. When they did, I ran after the wagon, calling, "Stop! Please stop! What do you mean? What's wrong with Mr. Tolliver?"

  "He done died in his sleep last week, ma'am. Docta say he doan' know whether 'twas whiskey or pneumonia that done it."

  Brett Tolliver dead!

  I felt both enormous relief and extreme compassion. Relief that the menace threatening our happiness was removed, compassion for a life that had been both anguished and wasted.

  I opened the envelope then and saw what was scribbled there.

  LIES ALL LIES. R.B. NOT GUILTY. MAY GOD HAVE MERCY ON MY SOUL. FORGIVE ME WHAT I DID.

  Brett's signature was scrawled in shaky letters.

  I clasped my hands over the paper and bowed my head and prayed for that poor man that he might at last find peace.

  Then I started walking toward the corral again. I could see the girls on their ponies and Randall, leaning over the fence, watching them. As I drew near, he saw me and waved.

  Then he held out his arms, and I ran to embrace my destiny!

  Epilogue

  September 1885

  Dear Jonathan,

  By the time you receive this letter, you and Davida will have just returned from your honeymoon. Aunt Garnet told us she was the most beautiful bride and you were the handsomest groom she had ever seen. I wish I could have been there to see for myself and to wish you both as great happiness in your marriage as I have found in mine.

  Did you know Randall and I repeated our wedding vows in a second ceremony? It was very private, with only Mama, Auntie Kate Cameron, and the two little girls in attendance. Uncle Rod did the honors of "giving me away" to Randall!

  Why a second ceremony?

  You see, in Rome, we were only able to arrange a civil ceremony, which seemed the farthest thing from a real wedding to me. When I explained this to Randall, he was only too willing to have another wedding, one more to my liking.

  Can you guess where it was? D o you remember the little chapel on the grounds at Montclair—the one our ancestress Avril had built to accommodate the many traveling preachers she entertained through the years? It is the sweetest place inside, with an arched roof, latticed windows, a tiny altar and pulpit, and a half-dozen pews on either side of the short aisle.

  For Davida's information (and I suspect by now you are learning how dearly women crave to know what was worn on such occasions!), I wore a hyacinth-blue ensemble—Randall's favorite color—and one of my precious Paris bonnets of scalloped straw, trimmed with blue ribbons and satin roses.

  The little girls were my bridesmaids and wore batiste dresses with hyacinth-blue sashes and straw hats, wreathed with cornflowers.

  Enough of this high fashion and on to the more important purpose of this letter.

  There is much to tell you of the events that have taken place since I last wrote. You will note the postmark on the envelope is Charleston, South Carolina.

  As you know, Randall had been estranged from his family for many years. His father disowned him and Randall had had no contact with either his mother or sister since.

  Recently, he received word of his father's death and a letter from his mother in which she expressed her longing to be reunited. She also stated she felt Mr. Bondurant had regretted his hasty action against his only son, but was too proud to rescind it.

  As a result, we immediately made plans to visit Randall's mother at the family home near Charleston. There, Nora and Lally found themselves welcomed by a loving grandmother, an aunt, and some cousins. We have spent a most happy two weeks here.

  The main reason for this letter is that Randall and I, after long discussions, have made some decisions that will affect you and your future.

  Since Mrs. Bondurant is elderly and not knowledgeable of the business affairs of her late husband, a cotton broker, Randall has agreed to take over the management of his firm, until such time as it can be profitably sold.

  We are moving to Pokeberry Plantation on Sullivan's Island, the Bondurant summer place, to be near his mother while Randall settles the estate.

  We both agree that it is unlikely that we will ever live in Virginia again. In Charleston the Bondurants are an old, established family and here the girls will have an assured entré into society. In fact, Mrs. Bondurant and her daughter, Amelia, are already talking about the girls making their debuts at the St. Cecilia Ball when they are eighteen!

  Therefore, we have deeded Bon Chance to you. As Uncle Malcolm's son, you are the rightful heir, and since it has been completely restored to its former splendid condition, you and Davida can come here to find it as it was when your dear mother arrived as a bride.

  I hope this makes you as happy as it made us to arrange it. You will soon receive all the legal papers, clearly outlining all the provisions. When you sign them, Montclair will be yours!

  In conclusion, my dearest cousin, I want to tell you the real reason I could not travel so far north to be with you on the most joyous day of your life. It is for "happy conditions of health." Yes, Randall and I are expecting an addition to our little family. I am praying it will be a son to carry on the Bondurant heritage.

  I cannot wish a more sincere or happier hope that you and Davida, in time, will know a similar expectation and that Montclair will again have its own Montrose heir. God bless and keep you both.

  With devoted love, always,

  Your affectionate cousin,

  Dru

  Family Tree

  In Scotland

  Brothers GAVIN and ROWAN MONTROSE, descendants of the chieftan of the Clan Graham, came to Virginia to build an original King's Grant of two thousand acres along the James River. They began to clear, plant, and build upon it.

  In 1722, GAVIN'S son, KENNETH MONTROSE, brought his bride, CLAIR FRASER , from Scotland, and they settled in Williamsburg while their plantation house—"Montclair"— was being built. They had three children: sons KENNETH and DUNCAN,
and daughter JANET.

  In England

  The Barnwell Family

  GEORGE BARNWELL first married WINIFRED AINSLEY, and they had two sons: GEORGE and WILLIAM. BARNWELL later married a widow, ALICE CARY, who had a daughter, ELEANORA. ELEANORA married NORBERT MARSH (widower with son, SIMON), and they had a daughter, NORAMARY.

  In Virginia

  Since the oldest son inherits, GEORGE BRAMWELL'S younger son, WILLIAM, came to Virginia, settled in Williamsburg, and started a shipping and importing business.

  WILLIAM married ELIZABETH DEAN, and they had four daughters: WINNIE, LAURA, KATE, and SALLY. WILLIAM and ELIZABETH adopted NORAMARY when she was sent to Virginia at twelve years of age.

  KENNETH MONTROSE married CLAIR FRASER. They had three children: CAMERON, ROWAN, and ALAN.

  CAMERON MONTROSE married LORABETH WHITAKER, and they had one son, GRAHAM. Later CAMERON married ARDEN SHERWOOD, and they remained childless.

  After the death of his first wife, LUELLE HAYES, GRAHAM MONTROSE married AVRIL DUMONT. Although they had no children of their own, they adopted his nephew, CLAYBORN MONTROSE.

  The Montrose Family

  CLAYBORN MONTROSE married SARA LEIGHTON, and they had three sons: MALCOLM, who married ROSE MEREDITH; BRYSON (BRYCE), who married GARNET CAMERON; and LEIGHTON (LEE), who married DOVE ARUNDEL. BRYCE and LEE were killed in the War-Between-the-States. CLAYBORN and SARA'S daughters-in-law were ROSE MEREDITH (widow of MALCOLM, deceased) who left one son, JONATHAN; DOVE ARUNDEL (widowed, with one daughter, DRUSCILLA); and GARNET CAMERON (widow of BRYCE MONTROSE), who remarried (JEREMY DEVLIN).

  DRUSCILLA MONTROSE, daughter of DOVE ARUNDEL, widow of LEIGHTON (LEE). JONATHAN MONTROSE, son of ROSE (MEREDITH) and MALCOLM—has been reared in Massachusetts by ROSE'S brother, JOHN MEREDITH, and his wife, FRANCES. JEFF MONTROSE, MALCOLM'S son by his second wife, BLYTHE (DORMAN).

  The Cameron Family

  DOUGLAS CAMERON married KATHERINE MAITLAND. They had twin sons, RODERICK and STEWARD, and one daughter, GARNET. STEWART was killed in the war.