by Rebecca Dash
“Elizabeth?” Charles was calling her.
She forced herself to focus on the present. “Pardon me? Did you say something?”
“Yes. That you need to get out.”
“What sort of thing is that to tell your own sister?”
“The best sort at this time of year. I have a Christmas Eve party to attend at our parents’ home in just two weeks’ time and the person who is supposed to be planning it has absconded but is blessed with the temerity to hide here in plain sight. Enough, I say.”
“I am hardly hiding.”
“What would you call it?” said Charles.
“Everyone knows where I am.”
“And they will blame me for canceling Christmas.”
Melony chuckled. Her husband smiled as he turned to her.
“Is that funny to you, my dear? No boughs of holly. No Yule log. No boar’s head dinner. No tree.”
“It is just that I do not think anyone can cancel Christmas,” said Melony.
“Well, my sister seems to be doing her best to.”
Elizabeth sighed. “I have not even decided if I will have a Christmas tree put up this year. Not everyone does. And it will only inspire father to tell us about his time in Germany and the wonder he experienced gazing upon his first decorated tree.”
“I rather enjoy those stories.”
“So did I the first dozen times.”
“Need I say more? She has grown hard hearted and is trying to do the holiday in. First she will eliminate the trees, then the good cheer. It is a dastardly plot all around.”
The servants brought their feast to the table. It was of small strips of lamb and seasoned potatoes. The moment Elizabeth saw lumpy potatoes on the plate her stomach both turned and fluttered at the thought of her future children. An odd mix of emotion she never wanted to endure.
“I cannot begin to decipher the look on your face,” said Charles. “What are you thinking about now?”
“How dreadful you are.”
“I have sheltered you for days, provided fine meals, and will even give you a carriage ride home after we eat. My conscience is clear.”
“I refuse to marry the man they chose.”
“You do not know him.”
“That is my point. I do not. You do not. They still won’t give me anything. Not even a name. Not even his title.”
“Oh not this again. It will be all right, Elizabeth.”
“How can it be? I have nothing to go on and no way to find him.”
“I think that is the entire point of all this secrecy. Mother knows you very well. Why fight so hard against it?”
“Because I have to talk to him. I need to tell him how awful a wife I would be.”
“That sounds very productive,” he said, sarcastically.
“I know something about him,” said Melony.
“How could you?”
“Since we got married, your mother, and I have become great friends.”
Charles was astonished. “Imagine that. The woman refuses to tell her own children a thing, but she will tell you. Now I want to know the secret as well, if only to annoy her.”
“Do not be irritated. It isn’t too much information at all. She would only divulge bits and pieces. I know he has a title. And I think his first name is… James. No, it was John. Wait, it was…”
Charles clapped his hands together hard as he laughed. “That is perfect! Elizabeth, what if you search for anyone of rank or importance in Lortan with the first names of James or John? It will be difficult for you to complete such an undertaking on your own, but I am sure you could recruit Lord Bainford. I have not seen him since he returned, but his love of adventure could not have changed too drastically.”
“That is a wonderful idea.”
He let his fork drop to the plate with a clank. “It is a horrible idea. I was joking. It is ridiculous to search an entire town in that way.”
Elizabeth smirked as she bit into a lean piece of lamb. “When a ridiculous path is the only way forward, you must take it.”
“I can only hope your accomplice is unreachable.”
“Gareth is infinitely reachable. I have already met with him, in fact.”
Her brother shook his head. In that moment, the look on his face resembled one she often received from their father.
“I did not hear about him stopping by the house,” he said.
“I met him on my own.”
“You and your little sneak aways. I thought you had more sense than that. It is bad business to be with Lord Bainford unchaperoned. It could lead to whispers, and that would not make your new husband very happy.”
“You are lecturing me about scandal now? Don’t I hear enough about it from our parents?”
“Apparently not if you refuse to control yourself. These impulses you have are too childlike for words.”
Elizabeth was getting one of those impulses right then. She wanted to slap him for the lecture. Her hands curled into balls and her jaw tightened. She could feel the pressure of her teeth pushed together. It was a small miracle that Melony spoke, or else Elizabeth might have said something she would regret.
“Do not be so hard on her. You do not understand what it is like for a woman. We are pushed to marry and give a man his children. Often with little concern for love or even affection. Sometimes we hardly know our husbands.”
“I believe I know you quite well,” he said.
“I was lucky to find you. We are lucky to be so in love. Everyone does not have our good fortune.”
“You do not think this is going too far?”
“It is more than I would have dared to do. But it is fine that she is upset. There are many things to be upset about. Perhaps meeting with Lord Bainford in secret is her way of saying goodbye to the life she has here before moving on with a new husband.”
“There will be no new husband if this continues.”
“If she finds out who the gentleman is in advance, the idea of committing to him may be easier to endure,” said Melony.
“There is no way to control whether she will have our good fortune.”
“But your sister deserves the right to try.”
Charles sighed as he turned back to Elizabeth.
“Do you have anything to say about this?”
“I never take part in disagreements when I am already winning the argument just by staying silent,” she said.
“Splendid. A standard by which we all should ruin our entire lives by.”
He threw his hands in the air. It was settled in Elizabeth’s mind. She would ask Gareth for a favor. She knew he would not like it, and would attempt to talk her out of the entire idea. Maybe even cheer her up as only he could. But she had to know what her parents had planned.
Elizabeth ate her food in silence while Melony and Charles talked about building a gigantic garden in their yard. They were the lucky ones here. As the end of the meal approached they had worn Elizabeth down enough to give in and talk about the plans Mother had made for her wedding. There was a hint of a special license so they could be married at home. Mrs. Harris wanted it all for her daughter.
With the thought that soon she may know who the man is, Elizabeth didn’t mind it as much. Everything felt better. But her mind went back to Gareth and what Melony said. Saying goodbye to her old life was foreign to her. Elizabeth never considered that she would have to leave him behind too.
Chapter 4
The Man From Lortan
He tried some witty banter. They traded it back and forth. She could keep up with anyone doing that. Changing subjects heartily was usually enough to break the chain of thought. Gareth even tried teasing her about the idea, but nothing would turn Elizabeth’s thoughts in another direction. All she wanted was for Lord Bainford to search for a man named James or John in Lortan. It seemed like such a simple request. The town wasn’t very big at all. What would it cost him to go?
Footsteps trudging through the snow turned his head as he walked down dam
p streets. The tall townhouses around him were the homes of Lortan’s elite. Men who were flush in the pockets or enjoyed good family names. Gareth had only been there for a few days, experiencing the hospitality of the local inn while figuring out the best candidates for morning calls. All it took was conversation. Asking around to find the right man. Surely there was someone in town who knew.
It hurt him to stand in front of the first house on the list. A knot formed in his stomach. From somewhere deep inside himself, Gareth had always been convinced he would be the only one for her, no matter how long it took to ask for her hand. It’s a dream now. He thought about it again, the missed opportunities in life, then had to force himself to knock on the door and hand a footman his calling card. He did not have to wait long to be admitted.
Gareth sat in the study of a man in a tailcoat the color of a dry rose. The man was young and had a habit of puffing his chest out. He was a baron. That was part of Gareth’s plan as well, to approach people of lower rank first, as it would be easier to speak with them.
“What brings you to Lortan?” said Lord Salbury. “You are a good ride from home, according to your card.”
“It is a lovely town.”
“It is a town. If my family did not have roots here, I would be somewhere else. I frequently am, except for Christmas gatherings. I am curious to know its appeal for a traveler.”
Gareth swallowed hard. “Rolling hills.”
“It does have that. So do a lot of places with far more to boast of.”
It seemed warm in the room. Gareth only sipped his coffee to be polite.
“And I am looking for a particular man,” he said.
“For something serious or a social call?”
“I cannot claim either one. I have no wish to be overly social when I find him.”
“Now there is a bit of intrigue.” The baron grinned. “How may I help you find this man? Has he wronged you? Will there be pistols at dawn?”
“Certainly not. I only want to locate him. His given name is either James or John. I believe he is a titled man.”
“A peer or a courtesy title?”
“I do not know.”
Lord Salbury gave him a well deserved look of confusion. “Are you quite serious?”
Gareth felt like an idiot right then.
***
The afternoon got no better from there. Lord Bainford was turned away at the door by the footman of a marquess, openly mocked by a wealthy tea merchant, and had lost count of the number of stops he had made. If he never again saw the inside of another gentleman’s study it would still be too soon.
He was rather relieved at his last call of the day, first to be granted entry to the home of The Viscount Alryne, and then that the footman lead him to the billiards room instead. It was as Gareth stared at those three balls on the table with a cue in his hand while being trounced soundly that he learned not to play against a man who keeps his own room. As Lord Alryne reached a score of twenty-one he said it casually.
“My name is James.”
The words were helpful and heartbreaking at the same time. Gareth wanted to escape. He hoped to return to Elizabeth with no answers, and that he could go another day with no face put to the person she would marry. Alryne was thin yet chiseled, with copper colored hair and blue eyes. Everything a proper woman would want. Everything Elizabeth would like to hear. Gareth tried to speak but nothing came out. All he ventured to Lortan to do had been done. He had gone there to lose. There was the man she would wake up to for the rest of her life, and it felt far worse than he ever imagined. Lord Bainford was about to walk away.
The room’s door swung open, and a child ran in. A governess chased after her.
“I apologize, my lord. She got away from me.”
Alryne scooped up the little girl in his arms and planted a kiss on her forehead. It was a relief that Gareth would never admit he hoped for.
“You are married!” he said.
“And almost as happy about it as you seem to be.”
There was still a chance.
***
Bainford hurried toward the inn. Lortan was nothing like the stories he heard. The people were normal looking, and rather friendly to strangers. Musicians played “Deck The Halls” in the center of town. And best of all, he could not find the right man in the entire area. It was a hopeful, happy, tremendous place to be.
Each step he took closer to the inn became lighter, even with snow clinging to his boots. He was only one more night away from doing the best he could do and then being done with the whole thing. As he rounded a corner, he felt the last rays of the setting sun shine on his face. A final bit of warmth soaked into his hair and clothes and it felt good. Any moment now and he would come upon the door. He looked forward to getting out of the cold. To sitting by the fireplace in the dining room and enjoying venison with a bottle of port.
Gareth stepped inside. The sound of men laughing echoed through the place. He took it as a good sign and followed the promise of cheer toward people drinking and eating. The old innkeeper rushed over to him.
“My lord, I have excellent news!”
“I can only hope it is that the food is delicious tonight, and the wine, above reproach.”
“That is the news here every night. But this is better. It concerns your business in town these past days.”
“Really?”
“I have noticed how hard you get after it. But sometimes all one must do is wait until your quarry finds you.”
Gareth looked confused.
“The Earl of Northwich comes to drink in this establishment,” said the innkeeper. “Knowing of your quest, I took the liberty of asking about his given name and it is John.”
“Is the gentleman still here?”
“Well, he wasn’t very gentle when I asked him. Not in the least. He told me many things about impertinence and wondering about things that the likes of me has no business knowing. But he is at a table getting just as lushey as I’ve ever seen a man. And he only competes with himself for that distinction.”
Bainford rushed into the dining room. Lord Northwich was laughing hysterically with his friends. His arrival stopped the humor at the table and they all stared as if he were a ghost.
“You must be the man on a quest of great importance,” said Northwich.
“I am.”
“That sounds downright archaic. Who undertakes a quest these days?”
“Anyone who cares a great deal.”
“About what?”
“Love,” said Gareth.
“It is overrated. So, why should I be troubled for that?”
“I am not asking you to be. I only need the smallest bits of information.”
“About my personal affairs?”
“Nothing a man would not be proud to reveal.”
This particular man was rather less than Gareth imagined he would be. Even sitting down, he could tell that Northwich was short, but wide and unpleasantly round. His hairline receded like a horseshoe. His face was red and rosy from the alcohol. There was no food on the table. Only tankards of dark beer. Gareth thought of those lumpy potatoes. The jokes were far too kind for this. He swallowed hard but hoped the outcome of the conversation would be the same as all the other leads.
“What shall I be proud of tonight?” said Northwich.
“I was wondering if you are to be married soon?”
“Why? Do you have a sister in need of a proper education before I am?”
The table erupted in laughter.
“Or even after you are,” another man cried out.
“During the ceremony!” said Northwich. “That would be a feat of utter dexterity I dare say no one else has accomplished in life.”
Bainford’s jaw tightened. He imagined that if he had a sister, his back would be up by that point. As it stood, he was thoroughly tired of the man’s company, anyway.
Northwich took a long drink from his tankard then slammed it down on the table. “You are a very odd cha
p.” Ale dripped from his beard. “I am engaged to a woman who I have never met. A merchant’s daughter. I hear she is beautiful and comes with a dowry that is an even greater beauty to behold. We will have lots of children. Or have an extremely pleasant time practicing, at the very least. I am a lucky man, indeed.”
Gareth turned and walked away, disgusted by the conversation. “You have no idea.”
***
He slid through the window of the abandoned library, weighed down by misery. Elizabeth looked at him, her eyes hopeful and pleading. She barely gave him the chance to take a breath before running over. Gareth did not know what to tell her. He did not know how to tell her. The silence continued. He shook his head. Elizabeth was beginning to understand. She slowly stepped backward. Her heart was broken already.
“No,” she said.
Gareth wanted to comfort her but there was no way. Even saying that Northwich was a good man would not be true. He was a horrible man in every way someone could be horrible. Looks were not the most important thing to her, but Elizabeth would never be happy with someone incapable of appreciating her for what she is. A strong, brilliant, utterly remarkable woman.
“No.” She continued to back up, her hand over her mouth from the shock.
Elizabeth stumbled on fallen debris in the old building and collapsed onto the table. Lord Bainford ran over, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. She gripped him tighter than ever before. He knew he had waited too long. He was as sorry for it as he had ever been about anything in life. Elizabeth sobbed gently, her hope for happiness fading with each tear. Gareth imagined what her life would be like with that man.
“We have to stop this wedding,” he whispered.