The Spinster's Beau

by Caylen McQueen

  “Well, well, if it isn't Mr. Cockburn!” Emily set her needlepoint aside and folded her hands in her lap. “You haven't visited for several days. I was beginning to think you had forgotten me!”

  “Never.” His voice was a bit hoarse. “I could never forget you, Miss Weaver.”

  “Much has happened in your absence. Harriet is now engaged.”

  “Is she?”

  “Yes. To Mr. Turnbull. I hope you're not too disappointed by the news?”

  Disappointed? About Harriet? Emily was so oblivious about his feelings, it was as if he was addressing a stranger. “Not in the least. And what about you, Miss Weaver? Are you engaged to Mr. Richardson?”

  “I am happy to say I am not. You may have a seat, if you'd like.”

  He sank into the sofa across from her. As she watched his face, she thought his eyes lacked their usual spark.

  “Should I send for tea?”

  “No. This isn't a social call.” Robin's voice was hollow, perhaps even a bit cold. “I won't be staying long.”

  “Oh. I... oh.” How was she supposed to respond to something so dismissive? “How is Anne?”

  That question, innocently uttered, was his undoing. He could feel his composure cracking, so he turned in the direction of the window.

  “Anne is...” Robin clasped a hand over his heart; he swore he could feel it tearing in two. “She's dead.”

  “Oh no.” Emily watched his hands shake, his eyes fill with tears, and she wished she could take him in her arms and comfort him. If only decorum would allow such a thing! “I'm so very sorry, Robin.”

  “She was...” His voice crackled as he spoke. “She was everything to me. A daughter. A sister. A friend.”

  “And she adored you, Robin. Truly! I've never met a sister who loved and admired her brother more than Annie.”

  Emily meant well, but her words only crippled his heart further. He was perilously close to tears, and Emily was the last person with whom he wanted to show weakness. “I knew she was ill, and I was always prepared for the worst, but I could never comprehend how I would truly feel until this moment. The emptiness in my heart has swallowed me up.”

  “Robin...” She wanted to impart words of comfort and wisdom, but she knew there were no words in the world that could heal him, not when the wound was so great.

  “It's so odd. You see someone every day. You see them smile at you every day. Then they're gone, and you realize you'll never see them smile again. Never. No matter how much you want it. It's like being stuck in a horrible dream, and you know you'll never wake up.” A tear slipped from his eye and tumbled down his cheek. Robin prayed she wouldn't notice. “The only thing you can possibly do is learn to live without them.”

  “If there's anything I can do to help you, anything whatsoever...”

  “I'll never see her face again, Emily.” His face wrinkled as he choked back a sob. “How can I bear it? How can I withstand a pain such as this?”

  At long last, Robin was conquered by his sorrow. Rivers of warm grief spilled down his face, soaking his cravat. His body shivered with disbelief as the tears rained down, and suddenly, a tremendous sob shook his body.

  As she watched him cry, Emily's own heart was aching. Decorum be damned! She ran to Robin's side, took him in her arms, and pulled his head to her shoulder. “Oh, Robin.” Her lips brushed against his hair as she whispered in his ear. “I am so, so sorry.”

  “No. I am sorry.” When he felt her hand stroking his hair, his heart prickled. “I should never let you see me like this.”

  “And why not?” His tears warmed her skin as she cradled his head against her shoulder. “Why should you be afraid to show me your sadness? I, of all people, would understand your feelings. Annie was a dear friend. I did not know her as long as you did, but I adored her. She was full of light and life.”

  “She was.” He sniffled against her neck. “She was. And now she's gone.”

  Emily was tempted to press her lips against his head, but she didn't. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “No. Nothing.” Robin sat up, took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and summoned all his strength into composing himself. “She wrote you a letter.” He slipped it from the pocket of his greatcoat and held it out to her. “It must have been very important, because she wrote it in her last hours.”

  “I can hardly imagine why she would spend her last hours thinking about me.”

  “You were a much-needed friend in the last days of her life. I cannot thank you enough for being there for her.”

  “And I will always be your friend, Robin. Always.”

  Robin took another deep breath as he rose from the sofa. “I should take my leave. Again, I am deeply sorry for my pitiful display.”

  “You needn't apologize for that.”

  “Good day, Miss Weaver.” When his composure returned, so did formality.

  “Farewell.”

  When he was gone, Emily looked down at the letter in her hands. “Anne was alive when she wrote this,” she whispered to herself. “It might have been the last thing she ever touched.”

  Upon realizing that, Emily closed her eyes and cradled the parchment against her cheek.

  Chapter Eleven

  Dearest Emily,

  If you are reading this letter, I suppose it is safe to assume I am dead. It's such a strange thought, to think the world will carry on without you. My brother was my entire world. I only ever wanted to see him happy, and I wish I had lived long enough to see that goal accomplished. If I could have known he was in good hands, I could have breathed my last breath without a heavy heart.

  I had very few friends, in particular, I had very few friends who were my own age. There were two I knew from childhood, but they ultimately abandoned me. I am sure you think it is silly to suggest my childhood is behind me, but I have suffered so much, I feel as if I am an honorary adult. I hope you don't remember me as a child, but rather, as a friend and equal. It would mean a great deal to me if you did.

  Robin thinks it is strange that I would invest so much time in a letter when I am at my last hours. It is not so strange to me, because I always enjoyed writing. Words were one of my life's greatest joys. I would always sneak away at odd hours of the day and dream about alternate worlds, and the characters who lived in them. There are still so many characters in my head who will never see the light of day. I suppose they will die with me.

  I hope you can forgive me for writing the play. It was my bold attempt at matchmaking, but I realise now how wrong I was. I was wrong to think I could force you to love my brother, no matter how much I wanted it to be so. Your heart is your own, and I should not presume to know what's best for you.

  Robin might not say it, for he is timid and terrible with words, but I know he loves you. Have you ever noticed how peculiar his eyes are? At times, they are an obvious blue. Other times, you would swear they are green! When he looks upon you and he is truly happy, his eyes will always, always be green. And they are always green when he is in your company. I am not even sure he loves me quite so much as he loves you.

  I have not known you very long, but there were times when I swore you cared for him too. I could be wrong, and your feelings for him might not extend beyond friendship, but I believe my suspicions are true. And if they are true, I wonder what is preventing you from being together. You once expressed a concern about his age. You think he is too young for you. Forgive me for being honest, but I do not understand. To me, you are both old!

  But enough about my brother. I want to thank you, Emily, for being such a kind and wonderful friend. I am glad you were there in my last days, because your presence put my heart at ease. You made me forget my illness, if only for a moment. Because of you, I was able to spend my last days with a smile on my face.

  When I die, I hope there is a heaven. I hope I can watch you from a cloud, and see you find the happiness you so deserve. I hope I can watch over my brother and keep him safe... he is, after all, completely incapable of
taking care of himself! Most importantly, I hope you never forget me, because I know I will never forget you. Even in death.

  With love,

  Anne Cockburn

  Chapter Twelve

  She swore she would never do it again, and yet, here she was. She was making the voyage to Robin's estate, in the rain, in the mud, with a sullied gown and ruined half-boots. Emily was going to look dreadful when she finally arrived.

  A day had passed since Robin's visit, since she read his sister's letter. The more she thought about it, the more she could no longer allow herself to deny her feelings.

  Robin needed her.

  She needed him.

  Her boots squished and smashed the mud as she charged in the direction of his house. Her hair was ruined by the rain, so she pulled the pins free and let the water-drenched waves spill over her shoulders. She knew she would no longer look like a lady when she arrived; rather, she would appear as a bedraggled Cyprian, unfit for polite company. She hoped Robin would not mind too much.

  She held the hem of her gown aloft, determined to save it from utter ruination. Her efforts were for naught; however, because by the time she arrived, she was so covered in filth that even her spencer was dappled in flecks of mud.

  To her surprise, Robin was sitting outside when she arrived. In the rain. He was as thoroughly drenched as Emily was; his wet blonde hair was flattened against his head. Water coursed down his face, mostly likely accompanied by tears, if his red-rimmed eyes were any indication. When he saw her approaching, his mouth fell open, and he rose to his feet.

  “Emily!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here? And in such weather...”

  “I had to see you.” When she saw him rake back his hair with his hand, her heart skipped a beat. What was it about such a simple gesture that made her pulse race? “More importantly, why are you outside in the rain? You'll catch your death out here!”

  “I could say the same to you.” He opened the front door and motioned for her to step inside. “Come. Let us both take shelter from the rain.”

  As soon as she entered the foyer, Emily realized how dire her situation was. Her wet dress was clinging to her legs, and the hem was dripping wet. Puddles of mud and rainwater followed her wherever she tread.

  “I'm a frightful mess,” she sighed.

  “So am I.” He held his arms open, and when he did, droplets of water fell from the sleeves of his greatcoat. “Are you cold?”

  “No.”

  “But you're shivering.”

  Was she? Emily looked down at her hands, at her tremulous fingers, confirming what he said. “But I am not cold. Perhaps it is because I am nervous?”

  “Nervous? Why would you be nervous.”

  “I...” Her lips were trembling too, so she sucked them into her mouth for a moment. It allowed her a necessary moment of hesitation. How could she bring herself to say what needed to be said? It would take a great deal of courage, and courage was something she had always lacked. Hopefully she would not be making a fool of herself.

  “Are you certain you're not catching a chill? I would hate to see you fall ill. I could fetch a blanket, if you'd like.”

  “I am quite alright.”

  “Would you like some tea? It could warm you from the inside.”

  “No.” Her voice was more insistent now. “There's something I must say to you, Robin. It is a matter of utmost importance.”

  “You may say whatever you'd like, of course.”

  “I read your sister's letter,” Emily said. “It was very thoughtful and heartfelt, and I will treasure it always.”

  “Annie always had a way with words. She was always very direct. Her honesty could even be a bit brutal, at times, but I loved her for it.”

  “Her letter was very honest,” Emily went on. “And it brought me to a realization. It brought me closer to admitting what I had refused to admit.”

  “Which would be?”

  Emily closed the gap between Robin and herself, nearly slipping on a puddle as she moved toward him. She held his hand, caressed his fingers, and gazed into his eyes, which were as blue as any ocean. When she remembered Anne's description of her brother's eyes, Emily's lips were tilted by the slightest of smiles. “When we first met, I was impressed by your natural charm. It was always genuine. Always sincere. I thought you were unconventionally handsome back then... now you are the handsomest man in the world.”

  “Emily, I--”

  “I have yet to accept Julius' proposal. Not a day has passed when Harriet hasn't tormented me with that knowledge. She thinks I am ludicrous. She accuses me of being a stubborn spinster.” Emily chuckled. “Perhaps I am a stubborn spinster.”

  In the corner of her eye, Emily saw Robbie straggling into the foyer. He had lost his spark. Even the puppy had been undone by Anne's death. With his head down, he waddled to Emily and laid at her feet.

  “Harriet even accuses me of loving you,” Emily's speech continued. “She thinks I have not accepted Julius' proposal because my heart is too attached to you. It is only now that I'm willing to admit she... she might be correct.”

  “Emily...” Robin boldly brushed a knuckle across her cheek. “You don't have to pretend to care for me. I know it is what Annie wanted... but--”

  “I'm not pretending!” Emily exclaimed. “I care about you very much, Robin Cockburn. I care about you so much that I... I believe it might be necessary to have you in my life. Always.”

  “Always?”

  “Always.” All of a sudden, Emily sank to her knees in front of him. Even Robbie was alarmed; he started yipping at her from behind. “Everything about our entire acquaintance has been... unconventional. The way we met, your determination to woo me, getting locked in the stables together, our strange encounters... it has all been so very odd. And even you must admit there is an unconventional gap between our ages.”

  “The gap isn't as vast as you think.”

  “Nevertheless, please allow me to be unconventional one last time.” Emily took a deep breath and prayed her words would not falter. “Will you marry me, Robin Cockburn?”

  “You're proposing?! To me?”

  “I am.” Emily answered with the firmest of nods. “Anne thinks you're timid and terrible with words, so I thought I would spare you the trouble.” Emily rose to her feet and shook her wrinkled dress. “Pray do not torture me with hesitation! What is your answer?”

  “I proposed to you once.”

  “Indeed. But I believe it was out of obligation?”

  “No. I proposed to you because I admired you more than I'd ever admired anyone,” Robin explained. “You're an amazing woman, Emily Weaver.”

  “Amazing enough to make me your wife?”

  “I... do not know.” When he saw the panic in her eyes, he turned his gaze to the floor. “Are you asking me to marry you because you think it is what Annie would want? I can only imagine what she said in her letter... the things she must have said to bring about this change of heart.”

  “No, Robin!” Emily would have stomped her foot, if not for the fact that it would look terribly petulant. “I am asking you to marry me because it is what I want!”

  “Do you truly mean that?” When he glanced up at her, there were tears in his eyes again. “I want to believe you, but your words sound too good to be real.”

  “I love you, Robin!” she exclaimed. The words were much easier to say than she imagined they would be. “I love you, I love you, with all of my heart, I love you. I want to take care of you. I don't want to spend another day without you.”

  “Emily...”

  As soon as she saw his tears, she took him in her arms and held him as tightly as she could. And when she heard him sniffling against her shoulder, she held him even tighter.

  “I love you.” His whimpered, whispered words made her tremble. “I love you, Emily. I need you. I need you more than I've ever needed anything.”

  Tears filled Emily's own eyes as he cried in her arms. “I'm here for you, Robi
n. You are not alone. I'll never leave you. Never.” When their embrace ended, she wiped his tears with her thumb.

  “You love me?” he asked. “This isn't a dream?”

  “Far from it.” Emily seized his hand and kissed it several times. “I have loved and adored you for longer than I care to admit.”

  “I can only imagine what Annie would think if she was here. She would be beside herself with joy.”

  “I am beside myself with joy! Only... it is a shame she isn't here to share this moment with us.” She brought each of Robin's fingertips to her lips, kissing them gently. “Does this mean you accept my proposal?”

  Her question made him chuckle. “Yes. Yes, of course!”

  “And you'll kiss me?” He just stared at her, blank and vacant, for what seemed like an eternity. “I'm asking you to kiss me, you dolt!”

  “Oh! Right! O-o-of course.” When his head dipped closer to hers, Robin thought he might swoon.

  And when she remembered he had never been kissed before, Emily nearly swooned. Fortunately, he had the forethought to wrap an arm around her back, which kept her on her feet.

  Emily held his cheek in her hand, which seemed to give him strength. When the gap closed, and their mouths touched, her entire body was flooded with an intense mixture of joy and relief and pleasure. His lips were soft and warm, much like she imagined they would be, and she wished the kiss would never end.

  In fact, when he started to pull away, Emily gripped the back of his head and kept his mouth on hers, deepening the kiss. His breath was ragged as he suckled her lips, which tasted like something heavenly, like something not of earth.

  When their lips pulled apart, Emily was breathless. Robin smiled at her, which made his beautiful green eyes look even more beautiful.

  Green.

  Anne was right.

  “I will love you forever.” Robin's mouth was pressed against her forehead as he whispered the words. “Forever and always, you will be my treasure.”