Elspeth: The Remarkable Bride (The Brides of Paradise Ranch (Sweet Version) Book 6)

by Merry Farmer

  Elspeth replied with a hesitant smile. She wasn’t sure what else she could do. She turned back to the stove, stirring her stew and wishing there was something more substantial that she could do for her new family.

  “So you know Gunn from England, do you?” Athos asked.

  “Yes.” Elspeth latched onto the topic of conversation, grateful to have something to break the silence. “Like I said, he was my late uncle’s valet. They were very close, more like friends than master and servant. I always supposed that was because Mr. Gunn was American and not as steeped in our ways.”

  “I wonder why Gunn was working as someone’s valet in England,” Athos said with an exaggerated frown, as if pushing himself to think of something else.

  If he was going to use this as a distraction, she would too. “I’m not entirely certain, but I think it had something to do with the army, of all things.”

  “The army?” He shifted to face her more fully, hanging on her every word.

  “Uncle Stephen was a high-ranking officer during the Crimean War. He and Mr. Gunn spent a great deal of time around Sevastopol and the Russian Empire.”

  “Really?” Athos’s interest was genuine instead of strained for a moment.

  Elspeth nodded. “When I was a girl, I used to imagine they were spies, stealing secrets for the Queen. But then Uncle Stephen was killed in battle, and Mr. Gunn was wounded.”

  “Gunn has never talked about any of this before.”

  “I’ve always been told that true men prefer to forget about the time they spent at war and only those who didn’t live up to their duty go around bragging about it. Mr. Gunn never spoke a thing about it whenever he visited the family.” She tilted her head to the side. “You know, I think he may have served in your American Civil War as well.”

  “He did?”

  “I think I remember mother saying something about it. But at that age, I was more interested in balls and suitors than a foreign war.”

  Regret swirled up in Elspeth’s memory and she pressed her lips together, turning back to the stove. Athos had nothing to add, so for several long, painful minutes, the house was silent again. The silence sat heavily, making Elspeth more and more nervous.

  She nearly sighed aloud in relief when Athos said, “So I’ve managed to marry a real British lady, have I?”

  “Technically, yes,” she answered, eager to get the conversation going again, as awkward as it was. She moved to the breadbox to see if they had anything to serve with the stew. A thought struck her, and she straightened. “Although, perhaps technically I’m not a lady anymore.” Embarrassment at the thought heated her cheeks. She bent to check the breadbox, finding half a loaf of bread and two wooden horses.

  “Why technically not?” Athos sprang up from his chair with more energy than was necessary. He moved to the table, finding a knife, and took the bread from her to slice it.

  Elspeth handed over the bread, respecting Athos’s right to have something to keep his hands busy too. She set about washing and drying a few plates and bowls so they could have something clean to eat out of.

  “I was formally disowned,” she said in a quiet voice, glancing down at the pump as she pumped water into the sink.

  “Disowned?” Athos let his arms drop in the middle of slicing bread. “By your own family?”

  Elspeth nodded sadly. “I suppose there’s no point in keeping the truth from you,” she said, half to herself, then turned to glance shyly at him. “I met an American, a man named Craig Valko, at a ball when I was just nineteen. We struck up a flirtation that lasted through the rest of the season, growing more…intense as the days rolled by. I believed I was in love and allowed him…liberties.” She blushed fiercely. “He promised to take me away with him to America, so one night I packed a bag, snuck out, and sailed away with him.”

  “That must have taken a lot of courage.” He seemed more impressed than shocked by her confession.

  “Yes, well, I’m not sure that a foolish heart and the allurement of…pleasures can be acquainted with courage.” She set two bowls on the counter and checked to see if the stew was ready.

  “So did you marry him?” Athos asked, crossing around her to find butter for their bread.

  “No.” Elspeth lowered her head further. “As it turned out, when we reached New York City, he was greeted at the dock by his wife and three children.”

  Athos stumbled a step on his way back from the pantry. “He was married?”

  “Very much so. A fact he failed to tell me.”

  “What a scoundrel.” He shook his head, carrying the butter to the kitchen table. He cleared off two places, then returned to the counter for the bread he’d sliced. “So why did he bring you all the way to America then?”

  For some reason, she’d imagined it would be bitterly hard and shameful to tell this seven-year-old story to Athos, but he listened as though she was telling him a fairy tale. “He planned to set me up as his mistress. Mind you, he told his wife that he had brought me back from England as a governess for their children.”

  “So what did you do?” He carried the plates and cutlery to the table as she ladled stew into their bowls.

  “I didn’t know what to do,” she confessed. “I didn’t know anyone in America and I had no money to speak of. I was too shocked by the truth to contradict him. So I went home with them and pretended to be a governess.”

  “Shameless,” Athos muttered, carrying the bowls to the table once Elspeth had filled them. “Not you, I mean,” he quickly added. “That man, if a man he can be called. He’s utterly without shame.”

  Elspeth joined him at the kitchen table. “Yes, well, I think that for a time there I was the one without shame. I let the charade continue when I should have stepped right back on the boat and gone home. Instead, I lived under that man’s roof for eight months as an adulteress.”

  Athos—who had begun eating—paused with his spoon halfway to his mouth. “Did he make you…”

  “Yes,” she answered without looking him in the eye. “Until his wife caught us. Not that I took any joy in it by that point.” She stirred her stew, her appetite gone. “I didn’t feel I had any choice. I…I was trapped and frightened.”

  Athos was perfectly still for a few more seconds, then resumed eating. “Well, I’m glad you’re here with me now and not still stuck in a terrible situation like that.”

  Elspeth snapped her eyes up to stare at him. He wasn’t judging her. He wasn’t condemning her. He was glad that she was there with him. Her mind reeled. She blinked rapidly, then finished her story. “I’ve come to understand that God has forgiven me for my sins, since I’ve earnestly sought to follow Him in every way since then. But it was a struggle at first. I took cheap lodgings and wrote to my family, asking to come home. I received a reply that I was a disgrace and a blight on the family name, that the scandal had hurt my sisters’ marriage prospects. Also that our friends and relations had been told I was struck by a carriage and killed.”

  “What?”

  “I was also informed that my name had been struck from the family Bible.”

  “Oh, Elspeth, that’s terrible.” He reached across the table to squeeze her hand.

  A lump formed in Elspeth’s throat, but she swallowed it along with a mouthful of stew. “I was paid wages while working for…that man’s family, and with eight months’ experience, I applied for another position as a governess. I almost ran out of money before I could find such a position. New Yorkers had heard of me, and none of the respectable families would hire me. I’ve spent six and a half of the last seven years shifting from one socially-striving family to another. I’m afraid far too many of the men of those families were aware of what had happened in New York and assumed I was up for more than just tutoring their children and teaching them French.”

  “It never ceases to amaze me how dishonest and lecherous some men can be,” Athos said, shaking his head. “I’d like to give them all a piece of my mind.”

  Again, Elspeth wa
s stunned by Athos’s capacity for forgiveness of her sins, or perhaps it was his ability to see the truth of what she’d been through and not just a soiled reputation. She was blessed to be married to him. Whatever it was, sharing her troubles seemed to have softened the blow he’d had in losing the children.

  “I’m certain Solomon will be able to help us,” Athos said later as they two of them cleaned up from their meager feast. “Just wait until you meet him. Solomon isn’t like anyone I’ve ever met before. He pulled himself up out of slavery—actual, real slavery—and is now one of the richest and most well-respected men in Haskell. If anyone can help us, he can.”

  Elspeth couldn’t help but smile at his assessment. “You are a man of incredible faith, Athos Strong,” she told him as they washed their dishes and put the food away.

  “What, me?” He seemed truly stunned by her assessment.

  “Yes, you. And you’re incredibly understanding of people.”

  He shrugged. “I see all sorts of people getting off and on the train every day, and I have for more than a decade. You learn a lot of things about a lot of people just by giving them a hand now and then.”

  “I pray that this time it’s your turn to be given a hand.”

  He grinned and lowered his head just a bit in modesty at her comment. “Honestly, at the moment, aside from Solomon—and maybe Gunn—there’s only one hand I need right now.”

  “Which one is that?”

  He held out a hand to her. Heart fluttering, Elspeth took it. A shimmering tingle raced up her arm and straight into her heart. It only intensified at the confident smile he gave her.

  It was still fairly early, so for a short while, they made an attempt to tidy up the house. That included cleaning up the dining room at last. The night was dark and the house eerily quiet by the time they climbed the stairs for bed. Neither of them said much as they changed out of their worn clothes and into nightclothes. In the back of Elspeth’s mind, she wondered if now was the right time to suggest they consummate their marriage. After the wretched day they’d just had, it might bring them both a measure of comfort.

  “Sleep well tonight, Mrs. Strong,” Athos said without a hint of flirtation as he climbed into bed. “We’re going to need all of our energy tomorrow so we can get those kids back.”

  The growing tension inside of Elspeth floated away with a fond smile. “You’re right.” She climbed into bed beside him and blew out the lantern on her side of the bed.

  Darkness and quiet enveloped them. It was like the calm before the storm, the eye of the hurricane. It was sad and gloomy without bumps and whispers and shuffling from children in the house. The noises outside seemed too close and her thoughts were too loud. All Elspeth had to anchor herself to was Athos’s breathing.

  Athos. Kind, powerful, tragic Athos.

  She rolled over, facing him as he lay on his back, eyes closed, breathing steady. A tremor passed through her heart as she scooted closer to him and rested an arm over his chest. He sucked in a breath, then let it out on a tranquil hum, then hugged her close. Elspeth closed her eyes and willed herself to fall asleep. She would need all the rest she could get now. Tomorrow the battle would begin.

  Athos was certain he wouldn’t sleep a wink that night, not when the house was so quiet, not when his heart was at the hotel. But a strange thing happened when Elspeth inched closer and tucked her arm around him. His muscles loosened, his worries lightened, and sleep overtook him. The last, fleeting thought that passed through his mind was that it was nice to have a pretty woman who believed in him cuddled in his arms.

  The next morning, he awoke with a smile on his face, almost convinced that everything was all right. Elspeth still slumbered against his side. He shifted to slid an arm around her, wondering if he might be able to get away with greeting the morning by doing what married people usually did in bed. If he was quiet, the kids wouldn’t even—

  The reality that he found himself in swung back on him with a thump. The children. They’d been taken. They were at the hotel. He had to get them back.

  He sat up with a start, waking Elspeth in the process.

  “What? What is it?” she asked, bleary with sleep, pushing herself to sit up by his side. The neck of her nightgown sagged delicately, giving him the briefest glimpse of her breasts, but even that wasn’t enough to calm the surge of panic that launched him out of bed.

  “We have to go back to the hotel to see the children,” he said, racing for the washstand.

  “Of course.” Elspeth rushed to get out of bed as well, then turned to carefully make it.

  Any other day, Athos would have said something about how tidy she was and how kind to make the bed first thing, but all he could focus on right then was getting dressed. He didn’t even bother shaving.

  “We need to speak to Solomon, like Gunn suggested,” he spoke half to himself as he pulled on the first clean trousers he put his hands on.

  “Solomon Templesmith.” Elspeth repeated the name as if quizzing herself on all the new people she’d met. Her clothes were still folded in her traveling trunk against the wall. She pulled out a dress and shook it, then sighed as the wrinkles didn’t come out. “It’ll just have to do,” she murmured to herself.

  A grin quirked at the corner of Athos’s mouth. “I bet a real lady like you had an army of servants to take care of things like your clothes when you were growing up.”

  Elspeth sent him one wary look and said, “We did.”

  Athos’s brow flew up, and he turned his back to give Elspeth a shred of privacy. “Servants! Imagine that.”

  He couldn’t think of anything else to say as he searched for a clean shirt and put it on. What did you say to a real lady anyhow? What did you say to a wife, for that matter? He never really had mastered the art of talking to Natalie. Those first few years they were too young and done in by circumstance to figure out what to say to each other. After that, there were too many mouths to feed and clothes to wash and shoes to tie. And it was just his luck that the only way he’d ever discovered of communing with Natalie usually ended up with more children.

  “I’ll wait for you downstairs,” he said, cheeks red, once he finished dressing. Heaven only knew how many children they’d end up having if he and Elspeth started communing. “We can head over to the hotel directly.”

  Elspeth finished pulling her dress over her head as he reached the door and caught him with, “Aren’t we going to have breakfast?”

  He paused, considering, then nodded. “I’ll toast some bread and make some tea. There’s no time to lose.”

  Toast and tea would have to be enough to start things off. Every second that Athos spent away from his children was torture. To her credit, Elspeth was quick to finish dressing and fixing her hair—which hung in one simple braid down her back—and to join him downstairs. Neither of them said anything as they downed their quick breakfast, then headed out.

  “I have to make one stop first,” he told her, turning right once he got to the street instead of left, which would have led them up to the hotel. He took her hand and set out at a fast walk. “It’s Saturday, so there’s only one train coming through today, but someone has to be there to unload it.”

  They marched all the way down Prairie Avenue to Station Street, then around the corner and a few feet up Main Street until they came to Haskell’s jail. Athos could see that Elspeth was baffled by the stop, but he didn’t have time to explain. He rapped on the door, then pushed it open.

  “Trey?” He called into the empty room. There wasn’t even a drunk locked up in the cell. It must have been a quiet night.

  A thump and then footsteps sounded from the second floor. A few seconds later, Sheriff Trey Knighton stomped down the staircase on one side of the room…in his long johns. He squinted with sleep and hadn’t shaved. That, combined with the fierce look he wore at being woken up, caused Elspeth to flinch. She had a point. With the vicious scar that cut across Trey’s face, he looked more like he should be in the cell than wear
ing the star.

  But there wasn’t time for introductions or explanations either.

  “Trey, I need you to do me a favor.” Athos launched right into his mission.

  “Huh?” Trey grunted, rubbing his face. “Athos, do you know what time it is?”

  Athos ignored the question. “I need you to keep an eye on the station today and unload the train if it comes in before I get back.”

  “Okay.” Trey sounded dubious. “I don’t really know what to do, other than being extra muscle when you need it.” He blinked, eyes widening as he noticed Elspeth standing with hands clasped in front of her by Athos’s side.

  “It’s easy. The train’s porter should know what needs to be unloaded in Haskell. All you need to do is move it to the warehouse and not let anyone take anything before I can get back to inventory it.”

  “Sure, but—”

  “Sorry, we have to go.” One tiny speck of worry lifted from his shoulders. He turned and took Elspeth’s hand again, starting out of the jail.

  “Hey, hold on, Athos. What’s going on?” Trey stepped after them.

  “Bonneville had some government lady take my kids away,” Athos replied, voice grim and edged with anger. “They’re at the hotel, and I’m going to get them back.”

  Trey muttered a curse as Athos and Elspeth rushed back out into Main Street. Athos should have gone back and made him apologize to Elspeth for using language in front of her, but Trey’s gritty streak was the least of his concerns right then.

  They charged up Main Street, Athos’s temper growing hotter with each step. It was a stroke of luck that as they passed in front of the bank, Solomon threw open his door and strode out to join them as if he had been keeping a look out in case they stopped by.

  “Gunn told me what’s going on,” he said without preamble. “He showed me the court order too.”

  “He did?” Athos slowed his steps to walk at Solomon’s stately pace. He hadn’t been aware that he’d left the parchment with Gunn the day before. He hadn’t been aware of a lot of things. Like Elspeth panting at his side. “Oh! I’m sorry. Solomon, I’d like you to meet my new wife, Elspeth. Elspeth, this is Solomon Templesmith.”