The Unwilling Bride

by Candy-Ann Little

  “What concern is it of yours if I’m safe or not?”

  “As I told you earlier I consider you a friend.”

  “You barely know me.”

  “‘Tis true, but we will have a lifetime to get to know each other.”

  “Not in my lifetime.” She crossed her arms.

  “I only hope that someday you will change your opinion.” He held up a hand to stop her protest. “You have already stated your position. I do not need to hear it again.”

  Miffed, she twirled away from him to hide the angry tears welling up. She would not let him see her cry.

  Dillon watched her fiery hair dance through the air and noted several undone buttons on her dress. “Shall I get those buttons for you?”

  “What!” She faced him again, surprised.

  “Since Lucy is asleep and I am here. I can undo them.”

  “You will do no such thing.”

  “’Tis a husband’s duty.”

  “I can manage by myself.”

  “I see you are struggling.”

  “Then I will sleep in my dress.”

  “Nonsense. It’s damp and dirty. You will catch a chill.”

  “What do you care?”

  “I do not wish to come home to sick wife. Now turn around,” he demanded.

  Caitlin was taken aback by his commanding tone. It was the first time he’d used it with her. “You will not touch me. Next thing you’ll be taking liberties.”

  “I assure, madam I will not take any unwilling liberties. I only wish to undo the buttons then leave.”

  Although she did not want any help from him, the prospect of him leaving sounded inviting. She presented her back to him. “Make haste.”

  Dillon moved the soft tresses to the side, and deftly undid the buttons. The pressure of his hands sent tingling sensations down her back. His fingers felt hotter than the fire blazing bright in the hearth. She shivered from the contact. What was it about the proximity of this man that always set her on edge? A simple touch ignited feelings she’d never had before.

  “And you wanted to stay in this dress all night. You’re already shivering.” Dillon’s hand steadily went down her back, slowly undoing each button. He noticed her pink skin under the thin cotton shift and ached to undo more than just the buttons.

  “Well, thanks to you I will be out of it soon.” She tried to control the tremor in her voice.

  An image of her standing in front of the fire, without a stitch of clothing, crept through his mind, intensifying the pressure in his gut. If he didn’t leave right this minute he’d never be able to keep his promise. He hastily bid her goodnight, and left.

  * * *

  Caitlin sat at the table having the morning meal when a loud knock sounded through the house. A few minutes later Sarah bustled into the room.

  “Oh, Caitlin, have you heard?” She rushed into Caitlin’s arms. “Brogan is leaving.”

  “Aye. I found out a few days ago.”

  “How can he go? How can he just leave and not care what happens to me? Did I ever mean anything to him?” Tears spilled out of her blue eyes. “Will I ever see him again?”

  “Of course you will.” Caitlin tried to answer the barrage of questions. “Brogan cares for you very deeply. He would not be going if he did not have to.”

  “Yes he would.” Sarah shook her head. “He cares more about that organization than me. He said that was the reason we could not marry. His business is not finished in Ireland.”

  “The United Irishmen will defeat England soon, and then Brogan will come back. You will get married and have lots of children. Everything will work out because the two of you are meant to be together.” Caitlin tried to soothe her best friend, but knew the possibility of death surrounded all her family members.

  “Oh Caitlin!” Sarah sat down. “I’m so afraid. I do not want him to go.”

  “I don’t either.” Caitlin said forlornly. She’d already lost one brother and now the threat loomed over her loved ones once again. Why can’t England just leave us alone?

  “Caitlin, I’m so sorry. Here I am going on about myself and never once considered your feelings. Why, I am the worst friend in the world.” She stood up, fiercely hugging Caitlin. “What must you be going through? You are losing your entire family.”

  “I will be fine. I’m optimistic that I’ll see them again.” She may have said the words but didn’t feel them in her heart. She only wanted to make Sarah feel better.

  “You are the strongest person I know,” Sarah smiled faintly. “I only wish I had half your strength.”

  “’Tis not strength. ‘Tis determination that keeps me going.”

  “You have the most determination of anyone I know.” The masculine voice startled both women.

  “Mr. Cade.” Sarah spun around.

  “I am sorry I startled you.”

  “’Tis quite all right, sir. I just didn’t hear you.”

  “He seems to materialize from nowhere,” Caitlin quipped. “Almost like a ghost.”

  “I assure you, my dear, I am no ghost.” He brushed her cheek with a dutiful kiss.

  “Of that I’m sure.” No ghost could not produce the sensations she felt from his touch. Even though his lips barely touched her skin, the jolt felt like lightening. Shock mixed with joy at the sensation. How could she feel happiness by his mere presence? She had not seen him in days, being mostly confined to her room. Although boredom and loneliness had brought her down to breakfast she had to admit that seeing Dillon’s face and hearing his gentle tone soothed her soul beyond words.

  “Sarah, would you care for a bite to eat?” Dillon noticed Caitlin’s nearly untouched plate and wanted her to finish. She’d barely eaten anything since the news of her family’s departure. In fact, he’d been surprised to see her downstairs at all even though it was a very pleasant surprise.

  “No, thank you, sir.” Sarah sat back down in the chair, her legs too weak to hold her up. “I am too distraught to eat anything.”

  Although unaccustomed to dealing with women’s emotions, Dillon felt he had to do something. Witnessing the devastating effect on his wife made his gut twist. “You must keep your strength up.”

  “Why?” Sarah wailed. “The man I love is leaving and I’ll never see him again.”

  “’Tis true he’s leaving, but you will see him again,” Dillon reassured her.

  “Not if he gets killed.”

  “Brogan will do everything in his power to stay alive. Just as I will do everything I can to bring him back home.”

  “What can you do?” Caitlin questioned.

  “Your family has to leave under the Alien Enemies Acts that President Adams passed. I am working with the Anti-Federalists to elect Thomas Jefferson as next president. Under his leadership he can overturn these acts.”

  “Then my family could come back to the states?” Hope glimmered in Caitlin’s green eyes.

  “’Tis what I am working on.”

  “I do not understand this political stuff,” Sarah confessed. “All I want is for Brogan to be safe and stay here.”

  “His safety is in the Lord’s hands. But as citizens we can all do our part to bring him back home.” Dillon patted her hand. “I believe everything will work out just fine. You must keep your faith.”

  “I hope you are right.” Sarah sighed.

  Chapter 6

  The sun peeked out from behind the gray clouds, trying its best to brighten the late October sky. The earlier rainstorm had not only dampened the ground, it drenched Caitlin’s resolve as well. She stood looking out the window, watching as the last few leaves desperately clung to the oak and maple trees. The nearly bare branches reached up toward the sun, while the thick trunks were anchored to the ground by roots that had embedded themselves into the soil for many centuries. Although most of the leaves had fallen, forming a blanket over the ground, the boughs magnificently stretched their twisted arms out as if they were still elegantly clothed. They were neither ashamed nor embarras
sed for this was their home, and they were comfortable. Caitlin envied those trees. They knew where they belonged. Their roots spread along the ground and went as deep as time itself. They would die if they were ever uprooted.

  A light knock interrupted her thoughts. She turned from her contemplation and faced the door. Dillon stood there looking quite dapper dressed in brown, the same shade as his hair, which was tied in the usual ponytail.

  “May I come in?”

  She nodded and watched as he closed the distance between them.

  “What are you looking at?”

  “Nothing much.” She turned back to the window. “‘Twas just noticing the trees and how dead they look right now.”

  “Aye, but they are not. They will bloom again in the spring.”

  “I know. ‘Tis amazing to think something that looks so dead can still be living.”

  “That is because life courses through the trees where we cannot see it. The roots are buried under the ground and nourish it from the inside.” Placing his hands behind his back he continued as if instructing a classroom full of children. “Just like us. We have to take food into our bodies to produce our outer strength.”

  “I am well aware of how trees and people receive their nourishment.” She rolled her eyes. “I just do not understand why the trees have to lose their leaves and look so lifeless through the winter.”

  “Only God can answer why he created the trees that way. But we must trust that he had a reason for it.”

  Her red brows gracefully arched over her green eyes. “Was there a reason you came to see me?”

  “I merely wanted to see how you are doing.”

  “As well as can be expected under the circumstances.”

  “Are you seeing your family off?”

  “Nay.” She unconsciously smoothed the wrinkles from her morning dress.

  “’Tis your family and you should do as seems right. However, I’d encourage you to not let your anger rule your heart.”

  “And what do you know about matters of the heart?” Her chin protruded out arrogantly.

  “I know that the heart can be easily broken. And that the pain and despair can last a lifetime if we allow it.” A strange looked flashed in his warm, brown eyes.

  “You make it sound as if we have a choice.” She turned to stare out the window once again. “I did not have a choice in anything that has happened in my life. I was uprooted from my home and moved here because of my brothers association in The United Irishmen Organization. Then, I was forced into wedlock. Now, because of that commitment to you I am not free to go with the rest of my family.” Anger edged her tone. “So you see, Mr. Cade, I have no choice.”

  “You do have a choice.” His voice was soft. “You can choose to allow bitterness and hate to fester in your heart and destroy your soul. Or, trust that God has a plan.”

  “I am starting to wonder if God even exists,” she scoffed.

  “Do not let stubbornness cause you disbelief. ‘Twill only lead to destruction.”

  She said nothing.

  “My dear, you have two choices. Either sit around brooding, or do something about it.”

  “And what can I do about my circumstances?”

  “That is an answer you must seek for yourself. But I can tell you when life dealt me a hard blow, I did something about it.”

  “Exactly what did you do, Mr. Cade?” Her sarcasm didn’t go undetected.

  “I opened the printing shop.”

  Her brows furrowed in confusion. “How did printing a paper help you?”

  “I use my paper to promote justice, and inform people of dangers in our society.”

  “Like President Adams’ sedition acts?”

  “Exactly.”

  “How does printing your view of politics help anyone?”

  “’Tis not my view. I print everyone’s side. It is not about whom is wrong or right. Most citizens do not know what is going on in politics or criminal activities unless they read about it.” He took his stance with his feet apart and locked his hands behind his back. “That is what I do with Norfolk News. I print the stories that keep people informed.”

  Caitlin pondered this statement before asking, “If starting the printing shop was your way of dealing with injustice, am I to assume that your trouble had something to do with a newspaper?”

  Dillon paused a long moment before answering, as if debating whether or not to reveal the information. After all, he’d never enlightened anyone about his past. And Caitlin certainly did not make trusting an easy thing. She resented him and all of England. However, they were husband and wife and building a life together must start with trust. Perhaps if he took the first step she’d warm up to him.

  “My mother was killed years ago. The only thing harder than her dying was all the gossip that surrounded her death.”

  Caitlin’s mouth dropped in dismay. “Your mother is dead?” The cold, insensitive words escaped before she could stop them. The pained look they produced on Dillon’s face made her regret them immediately. No matter how much she disliked him, she never wanted to inflict pain on him. “Oh, Dillon, I’m so sorry. ‘Tis just that I thought that your parents lived in England.”

  “My father and stepmother live there.” He said the words with disdain.

  Caitlin was hesitant to ask any more questions, but curiosity got the best of her. “What happened?”

  Dillon wanted to share his heart with her but the words lodged in his throat. He had not talked about the situation in over eighteen years. “She was murdered.”

  “Murdered!” Caitlin gasped.

  Dillon flinched at the horror visible on her round face. It was his job to protect her, not produce terror. “I should not have blurted that out. This subject is far too harsh for women.”

  “Don’t be a goose.” She recovered from the initial shock. “You of all people should know by now that I am much stronger than the average woman.” She brushed her auburn hair back and fidgeted with the front of her yellow dress. “I will admit shock at the thought, but I do want to know what happened. And how that led to you opening a printing shop?”

  Dillon hesitated only a moment. He found that talking to Caitlin and opening his heart eased the pain. “My father is a very influential man. He’d made a few enemies. No one knows for sure what happened. My mother was found stabbed to death in the back street of an ally. All kinds of rumors started that she was having an affair and her lover killed her. Some even said that my father killed her in a jealous rage.”

  “Was she having an affair?”

  “I do not know for sure, but I never believed it. She was the most honest, loyal and trustworthy person I had ever known.” His liquid voice seemed to get even softer as he remembered his childhood.

  “What about your father? Do you believe he had something to do with her death?”

  “That was the most scatterbrained theory of all,” he sneered. “Anyone who knew my father knew that he was the provider of the family, not the nurturer. He spent so many late nights at the office and was constantly gone on business trips that he did not even realize he had a family. I doubt he would have cared if she did have an affair.”

  “Sounds like your parents did not have a very good marriage.” She felt a twinge of guilt for growing up in such a loving home.

  “My mother was always faithful and loving towards him, even when he would forget dates with her. She would go to parties by herself. Or, more times than not, just stay home. She always justified his behavior because he had to work so hard to give us the things we wanted.”

  “They never found the killer?”

  “Nay. But the gossip got around. We never got our side of the story out. My mother was painted as a two-timing, adulterous whore and my father said nothing to dissuade otherwise. The police never found any evidence of an affair. If they could have gotten the facts out to the public, maybe the rumors would have stopped.”

  “Perhaps, but sometimes not even the truth will stop rumors.”<
br />
  “True.” Dillon paced a few steps, placing his arms behind his back. “I vowed to never let injustice win again. I moved to the states and became an apprentice. When I opened my shop I promised myself that I would fight to be fair, and only the truth would be printed. I give people information so they can make informed decisions.” He stopped pacing and turned to face Caitlin. “I will continue to do so, no matter what the law says.”

  “I believe you have accomplished your goal.” She smiled slightly. “I just do not know what I can do?”

  “Something will come to you.” He smiled, then gently added, “The biggest regret I have is not saying good-bye to my mother.” He got a faraway look in his eyes. “She tried giving me a kiss before she left, and I brushed it aside. I was too old to be treated like a child. At fourteen, I was tired of her treating me like a baby. She left that day without so much as an ‘I love you’, or ‘good-bye’ from me. ‘Tis an unsettling feeling that I have carried for all these years. It is unfinished business.” He looked directly into Caitlin’s eyes. “Do not make the same mistake.” He walked to the door. “I will have the carriage ready in case you change your mind.”

  * * *