Caitlin spun around, surprised. “Dillon what are you doing?”
“I have come to bid thee goodnight.” The stench of alcohol saturated the air. His words blurred together so bad it was hard to understand him.
“I see you have been dipping rather deep tonight.” Caitlin held her breath.
“Only a few drinks.” Dillon swayed slightly. The room spun out of control. An ache formed between his eyebrows. He knew it would only get worse by morning.
“Look at you!” Caitlin said appalled. “You cannot even stand up.”
“I’m standing up. ’Tis you that are swaying.” He stifled a laugh. “As a matter of fact, I see that I now have two beautiful wives.”
“Will you get serious.” Caitlin crossed her arms.
“Serious, you say.” His words were drawn out. He tried standing straight, but nearly toppled over. “Perhaps, my second wife will be serious enough to be faithful.”
“You are talking nonsense.” Caitlin rubbed her temples, trying to ease the stress. “Go back to your room and sleep off the alcohol.”
Stumbling towards her, he grabbed her upper arms, as much to keep from falling as in anger. “You do not tell me what to do.” Rage glared in his eyes turning them hard as stones.
“Dillon, you’re hurting me.” She tried withdrawing from his grasp.
“So what? You do not seem to care when you hurt me.” His hands tightened. “You do not care about anybody, except yourself.” The struggle knocked him off balance.
Caitlin escaped his grip and stepped back. Fear welled inside. She didn’t know if she should make a run for the door, or calm him down. Not wanting to cause a scene, she chose the latter.
“Dillon, you are not yourself tonight. Why not discuss this in the morning when things are clearer?” Her tone was gentle.
“Things are crystal clear,” he said. Looking at her through blurry eyes, he realized what a fool he’d been. She’d never come to love him. “When we get home I shall start divorce proceedings.”
“What!” Shock tightened around her chest. “I don’t understand, why?”
“I cannot fight you anymore, Caitlin.” His tone softened, a tinge of regret adjoining each word. “You have made it perfectly clear that you’re affection will never towards me.”
“You accepted that when we married.”
“Do you have any idea how hard it was watching you tonight? You can spread your charm over an entire roomful of men, but cannot spare a shred of tenderness for me.” He shook his head. “I cannot live with your animosity anymore.” Stumbling to the door, he left.
Caitlin stood in stunned silence for a long time. Emotions rolling around like a thunderstorm. She should be glad. This is what she’d wanted for the last seven weeks. So, why was fear the dominating emotion?
Had she pushed too far? She had recognized the jealous streak, and purposely flirted and teased tonight just to irritate him. In hindsight that may not have been the wisest move. But he’d certainly made her angry enough with Henrietta.
As the anger subsided, loneliness and despair hit with a one-two punch. How can he just throw me out with nowhere to go? He knew her family was gone. Could he be that heartless?
He wasn’t in his normal state of mind. Caitlin thought, trying to comfort herself. ‘Twas the alcohol talking. She felt confident that once he sobered, he would change his mind. He probably wouldn’t even remember the conversation by morning.
* * *
Thomas Jefferson sat reading while Caitlin finished her morning meal. Dillon entered, quietly taking a seat.
“Good morning.” Jefferson looked up from his book. “How did you sleep last night?”
“Fine, thank you.” He poured some coffee.
Caitlin noticed he took very little food. Remembering how queasy her stomach had been after drinking, she empathized with him. He looked remarkably well considering how awful he must feel. She hadn’t even gotten out of bed the day after their wedding. The only distress he showed was to wince at loud sounds.
Caitlin finished her meal, partaking of small talk with Mr. Jefferson. Dillon didn’t have much to say. The cloud of tension surrounding him seemed to smother the entire room.
“Mrs. Cade, perhaps you’d like to see the gardens today?” Thomas asked. “It is not as beautiful as in Spring and Summer but it’s passable.”
“I would like that very much.”
“I fear we must leave today,” Dillon informed them.
“I thought you were staying for a few more days.” Thomas inquired. “Are you sure you are up to the long trip home?”
“I shall be fine. Some urgent business has come up that requires my immediate attention.”
“I hope nothing too serious,” Thomas said
“We shall see.” Dillon looked at Caitlin. “We will leave as soon as you’re packed.”
Caitlin wondered if the urgent business was her? His attitude wasn’t any better this morning. Was he hurrying back to divorce her? Could she change his mind? Oh, Lord, what am I going to do? Overwhelming panic brought tears to her eyes. Please change his heart, she prayed.
The Bible taught that God was in control. She’d been so angry over the recent events that she’d stubbornly ignored God. Now, He was the only one who could help her. She would never understand why God had allowed the war, and her brother’s death. Being forced from Ireland, then separated from her family, had only added to the animosity. The final straw had been being pushed into a marriage she didn’t want.
Now, all she wanted was to stay secure in the marriage. Would God help her after all the anger she’d built up towards him? Would Dillon forgive her as well?
* * *
Mr. Barclay and his men were finishing up for the day when Dillon and Caitlin arrived home. The last thing Caitlin wanted to do was tour the house and check on the progress. She felt exhausted, sore, and had too much on her mind to worry about the redecorating. However, Mr. Barclay beamed from ear to ear, and she didn’t want to disappoint him.
Pushing her irritation away, she focused on the task at hand, knowing a sour temper wouldn’t get her anywhere, except kicked out the door. Dillon had been right, becoming an adult meant learning how to control situations calmly, rationally, and respectably. With that in mind, she gave her brightest smile and graciously accepted the invitation to inspect the rooms.
Dillon tagged along watching with admiration as Caitlin efficiently put the household in order. She juggled directing the servants, and complimenting Mr. Barclay on a wonderful job so effortlessly that she seemed to belong in Regal Hall as much as he. A gleam brightened her eyes as she praised the men on having completed the parlor and dining room so quickly.
It was a pity that things hadn’t worked out. The staff had come to like, or more appropriate, respect Caitlin. Even Mr. Barclay was under her charm now. If he didn’t know better he’d have sworn she looked pleased to be home. Of course that was merely a dream. A delusion. One he’d have to let go of. As much as it hurt losing her, he knew she’d never be happy here. He just didn’t have the heart to keep her against her will any longer. Even if it was for her own good.
* * *
The transformation of the parlor still took Dillon by surprise. The firelight danced upon the wooden floor, making the coat of polish gleam like new. The turquoise paint seemed to change moods just like Caitlin. Changing to a subdued blue, whereas, the sunlight bouncing off the bright walls made it look more green.
Caitlin had been quieter, almost downhearted since the return home. He would have figured she’d be walking on the clouds. After all he was finally giving her the freedom she so desperately wanted. Who could know what thoughts rolled around inside her head. The complexity of that woman gave him a headache.
Dillon took a seat on the new gold and turquoise sofa. Gold, velvet curtains hung on the windows. And thick throw rugs carpeted the floor. A crystal dish had been placed on the table with dried flowers in it. Pinching some of the stuff between his fingers, he snif
fed surprised that he liked the smell.
“’Tis potpourri,” Caitlin informed him as she entered carrying a vase of flowers. She placed the crystal vase on a table across the room, the yellow roses adding the right touch of color. “Made with a mixture of dried flowers, herbs and spices.” She took a seat opposite him. “When the real flowers start to die I dry them. I can reuse them and they aren’t wasted.”
“’Tis a practical matter?” Dillon liked that side of her. It was the one area they had in common. There was nothing showy or overdone in the decorating. The rooms had a lively, high-spirited feel, with warmth and elegance. It certainly reflected Caitlin.
“Aye. Plus it makes the room smell good.” She pulled out the cross-stitching and went to work.
“It does smell nice,” he agreed. The little touches made a difference.
Uneasy silence stretched between them. Although they’d been home for several days, they’d managed to avoid each other. This was the first encounter and neither knew what to say. Someone had to make the first move.
Caitlin looked up from her stitching to find Dillon watching her. “What?” She arched a red brow.
“We need to talk.”
The serious tone dashed her hopes of pretending nothing was wrong. “I should not have come in here,” she mumbled.
“We cannot avoid the issue forever.”
“I do not understand why this is coming up at all?” She set the hoop aside. “Before you say anything let me start by apologizing.”
She paused only briefly at the stunned look on his face. “I am sorry I made you so upset. I did not realize that some innocent flirting would affect you so much. Please, Dillon, please forgive me.”
Dillon sat immobile for a few seconds before clearing his throat. “I did not think I would ever see the day when you would admit to being wrong, let alone apologize.”
“I am sorry.” The clenching of her jaw warned that she wanted to say more, but held her tongue.
“’Tis all you have to say?” Dillon quirked his brow.
She hesitated. “I do not wish to upset you further.”
“This certainly is not the girl I married,” he teased. “The Caitlin I know would let me have it with both fists.”
“Is that what you want?” she asked. “To upset you so you have an excuse to kick me out? Then you can run to your little Henrietta and pretend I don’t exist. Is she putting you up to this? Does she want you to marry her? ‘Tis what this is all about, is it not?” Tears welled, turning her eyes into shimmering gems. “You do not want to be strapped with the responsibility of a wife anymore. Does it ease your conscious to make it my fault?”
“I am not making anything your fault,” Dillon defended. “Why are you bringing up Henrietta? She has nothing to do with this. I am giving you your freedom. Is that not what you want?”
“My freedom?” Caitlin stood. “And where shall I go? I have no family, and you know it. What shall I do? I have no skills.”
“I beg to differ. You have great skill in writing.”
“I have written one piece.”
“An article that has the whole town, and probably all of Norfolk, talking.”
“I would not go that far.” Caitlin tried not to smile at the compliment, but a strange sensation rushed through her. “People have forgotten about it by now.”
“That does not mean you cannot write something else.”
“So after you divorce me, are you going to help establish me as a writer?” She tried to keep the hurt out of her tone, but wasn’t successful.
“Caitlin, I am confused. I thought this is what you wanted, the chance to be free and make your own money. You will not be trapped in a marriage with your enemy any longer.”
“And I thought this marriage is what you wanted.”
“It was. It is.” He threw his hands up, frustrated. “I do not know what I want any more. I just know that I cannot continue like this.” He stood, pacing over to the fireplace.
Caitlin walked up behind him, putting her hand on his shoulder. “You accepted this marriage in the beginning, what changed?”
He paused before answering, his eyes clouded with torn emotions. “I fell in love with you.” Turning around, he took her hand in his. “I cannot live with you hating me any longer. Not when I want you so much. Not when my heart beats for you.” He placed her hand over his heart. “Do you feel that? My heart races at the very touch of your hand. Every poem I read reminds me of you. Every song is about you. I cannot keep the distance between us anymore.”
Caitlin felt the warmth of his body. The irregular beating of his heart. Even the uneasy laboring of his breath seemed to grab her. She felt as if the fire had jumped out of the hearth, landing on her. The warm, fuzzy sensation almost smothered her until she couldn’t breathe. Withdrawing her hand she stepped away, trying to regain some composure. “If this were to become a real marriage, would you stay in it?”
“It has gone beyond that. I told you, I would never force you into my bed. Not by any means.”
“What if I were willing?”
“You are not.” Dillon locked his hands behind his back. “You do not even like me touching you.”
How could she explain what his touch did to her body, when she didn’t understand it herself? “Do you think you are the only one confused?” She tried reading his expression. However, he managed to mask his emotions well.
“I am sure you are just as confused as I.”
“Then I beg you not to kick me out, at least not yet. Just give me a little more time.”
“My dear, Caitlin, I am not kicking you out. I am only giving you the freedom you so desired.” Staring into her eyes, he said softly, “I cannot bear being the one to bring you unhappiness.”
“What if I do not want my freedom?”
“Are you saying you want to stay in the marriage?” Shock registered in his eyes.
“’Tis exactly what I’m saying.” Walking over to him she placed the palm of her hand on his cheek. “You are the kindest, gentlest man I have ever met. Any woman would count herself lucky to be your wife.”
So taken aback by the affectionate words and gentle expression in her eyes he couldn’t speak. He took her hand from his face and kissed it. “If you only knew how much those words mean to me.” Dropping her hand he stepped back and turned toward the fire. His hands locked behind him. “But I am not sure why you are changing your mind? I am offering you everything you ever wanted. Perhaps, ‘tis only fear that is keeping you here.”
“I cannot give a truthful answer,” she admitted. “I am not sure what is going on.”
Turning to face her, he smiled slightly. “Thank you for that honest answer. Perhaps we had better not make any hasty decisions.”
“I agree.”
“Well, that must be a first.” Dillon laughed. “We finally agree on something.”
“It cannot be that uncommon.” Caitlin shrugged. “Married couples have to agree sometimes.”
“I suppose.” Dillon turned serious. “’Tis one other matter we must clear up.” He looked directly into her eyes, almost reaching her soul. “I need no other woman. Put the thought of Henrietta out of your mind.”
“I shall try.” Why did she feel a tug at her heart every time she pictured him with someone else?
“I suggest we get some sleep and continue this conversation when we are both rested.”
“Again, I agree.”
“Then I bid thee good night.”
She watched him leave. Feeling too restless to sleep she stayed in the parlor a while longer. She picked up the bible off the table and sat down by the fire. Thank you, Lord, for changing Dillon’s heart, and mine. If it’s not too much to ask, help me find a way to show Dillon how I really feel.
* * *
Caitlin waited patiently for Dillon to leave for work. He seemed to be in no hurry this morning. Although the tension had eased somewhat, it was still awkward between them, but she had a plan to remedy that.
God had certainly answered her prayer. She’d been awake most of the night forming her plan. Although she felt scared, she had peace that God would provide the courage she needed, and help her complete the task. After tonight, Dillon would know her heart like no other man had ever known.
Dillon finally finished his morning meal and left. Caitlin went in search of Martha, finding her in the kitchen, kneading dough.
“Martha, may I speak with you for a moment?”
“Depends on what you want. If it’s about reusing the flour scraps then no I ain’t got any time.”
“’Tis nothing to do with flour, however some counsel on Dillon’s favorite meals would be useful.”
Martha stopped kneading the dough, giving Caitlin her full attention. “Just what do ya have cooking in that brainless head of yours?”
Caitlin stiffened at the insult but held her temper in check. She knew Martha was baiting her. She couldn’t give in to anger at the moment. “I have no idea why you are so against me, but I do not have time for petty arguments. I need your help.” Looking Martha in the eyes she asked, “Can we set aside our differences for Dillon’s benefit?”
Martha shrugged her wide shoulders. “Depends on what it will benefit him.”
“I need you to help me plan a special dinner for him. If you leave his favorite recipes, I’ll do all the cooking.”
Martha’s loud cackle rolled through the house like thunder. “You think I’d be fool enough to leave you alone to prepare the food for my master?”
The Unwilling Bride Page 19