Mine, Forever and Always: Historical Romance Novella

by Tammy L. Bailey

  Her chin stiffened, and he was aware that she was about to educate him on her past, regardless of whether he wanted to hear the details or not.

  “I was seventeen, and my father had just introduced me to his cousin, a wiry man who would inherit my father’s property since I had no brothers. I was expected to marry Mr. Lawson, a man twenty years my senior who had already married and buried three wives. Needless to say, I was desperate not to become his fourth.”

  Henry stalked closer to where his mother stood, trembling. “How desperate?”

  She dipped her head before bringing in a long inhale. “I was visiting my aunt and uncle in London when I met your father. We spent a few lovely afternoons together before the rumors of our innocent meetings reached my family. We were immediately separated. After some time, I forced myself to forget him.”

  Henry exhaled, seeing the parallels to his own life.

  “Six months later, I met Frederick Brooks. He was amiable, but the son of a merchant who had nothing to offer but a meager living. Compared to what was arranged, Frederick’s proposal seemed more than acceptable.”

  She paused, wiping at the tears streaming down her face. “We purchased rings with what little money Frederick had and agreed to travel to Gretna Green to get married.”

  Henry scoffed, “Nevertheless, unable to imagine a poor and uncomfortable living; you betrayed him first and later, the man you married?”

  She brought in a stuttering breath. “Frederick never came for me. I waited a fortnight until a letter arrived, explaining how he’d changed his mind. He believed me in love with someone else. He told me to carry on with my life as if we’d never met.”

  Henry stared at his mother, unable to comprehend the pain of such a rejection. “So, who was the man I saw you with that day?”

  Her head lifted. “Frederick’s brother. He’d come to tell me that Frederick had…died, unmarried, and wearing the ring I was to have given him at Gretna Green. A letter was left with instructions to return the ring to me upon his death.”

  Henry’s mouth fell in disbelief at his mother’s words. When his gaze shifted to his sister, he found her unmoving and her blue eyes wide and unblinking. Now, she knew the truth of why he’d chosen to stay away so long.

  His mother cautioned a step closer to him. “Frederick was right, Henry. I was in love with someone else: your father. When we were separated, I thought his absence meant he’d chosen to forget me, as well. I was wrong. Despite his parents’ hesitation, he was determined to marry me.”

  Henry was unable to move forward or utter one word for a full minute. “Why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you stop me from drawing the worst conclusion?”

  She sent him a weak smile. “You were so angry with me. Whenever I tried to talk to you, you’d walk away. I even tried writing you letters, and they all came back, unopened.”

  In the muted light, he shifted closer and wrapped his arms around his mother’s soft and comforting form. “I…I never imagined,” he whispered.

  She reached up and touched his face, pulling slightly away from him. “Your father even tried talking to you, but you shut him out, too. For different reasons, I suppose.”

  Henry nodded. He’d stopped talking to his father soon after he’d change his future without Lily.

  “I have watched you, and her grow together and apart. You must find a way to be with her, Henry.”

  He knew his mother spoke of Lily. However, Henry still had to reconcile his father to his decision to marry a woman who might place Hadley at the mercy of creditors. Of course, he’d just learned that each of his parents had made their own choices, and they had done well for the decisions they had made. For himself, Henry wanted Lily. She might deserve better than him, but she was his, and he was hers, forever and always.

  His thoughts heavy, he stalked downstairs and met his father, finding the man talking to Waverley as if they were the oldest of friends. They both glanced up, his father standing and motioning for him to have a seat. Henry shook his head, prepared to take his father’s latest advice standing up.

  Too warm for a fire, the housekeeper had placed four candles on the mantelpiece to illuminate the room into iridescent shadows.

  “Are we all on speaking terms, again?” his father asked.

  Henry nodded, although he was not up to hearing the man lecture him again on why Lily was not the right choice.

  “Very well. I will not waste your time. Although you have inherited you mother’s emotional heart, I want to believe you have inherited my common sense. With that said, it is your choice to make, so make it well. And if you must follow your heart, I would suggest contacting a Mr. Braxton in London. He knows of a few ventures or investments where you could see a return of up to four percent. Then, you and Miss Scott might find both love and comfort at your disposal.”

  Henry smiled at his father, having already met with the man several times. “What has made you change your mind?”

  It took the elder Mr. Dalton a few moments to give his son an answer. “Your mother.” He brought in a deep breath and said nothing more regarding their past. “I won’t regret separating you and Miss Scott.”

  “You believe Miss Scott would have been a mistake?”

  His father shook his head. “You were both so very young: she too impressionable and you too impulsive. I gave you an alternative—,”

  “You gave me an ultimatum,” Henry reminded him, his temper rising.

  “I gave you a chance to step back and make the right decision. You are a man now with experience and vision.”

  It was Henry’s turn to shake his head. “I could have lost her!”

  “You know your sister and your mother would not have let that happen. I was quite outnumbered when it came to her.”

  Henry reconciled with his father’s meddling and started to step away when a question propelled him back around. “I am curious. How did you know so much of my feelings toward Lily back then?”

  His father sent him a sly smile. “Your aunt, though odd, is very observant and has learned to sleep with one eye open. Why else is she allowed to chaperone your most capricious sister?”

  “Why indeed?” Henry said before glancing over to send Waverley a respectable nod. His friend smiled, seeming content to finish his conversation with Henry’s father.

  With his energy elevated to such heights, Henry took the stairs two at a time. He found Jane’s door open and her settled upon the window seat, her knees drawn to her chin.

  He softened his steps across the thin rugs in front of her bed and sank beside her, waiting for an explanation.

  “I’m astonished by Mother’s confession. Are you?” his sister asked.

  He kept the answer to himself for a few silent moments. “I am more relieved by it than anything.”

  Jane appeared to be waiting for further explanation, but when it became apparent that he wasn’t going to add anything else, she brought in a loud breath. “Believe it or not, the letter was not my idea, but rather, your friend’s,” she said after a long moment of silence.

  Henry drew back, surprised. “Waverley?”

  Jane nodded. “He came to me two months ago, asking questions about a woman you had mentioned several times, mostly in a state of drunkenness.”

  “Lily,” Henry breathed. He knew she’d taken over his heart. He just didn’t realize she’d invaded his mind, as well.

  “So, we came up with a way to bring you and Lily together to settle your feelings for one another somehow. Although I have witnessed her love for you grow for more than seven years, you did everything in your power to extinguish it.”

  He closed his eyes for a brief moment. Yes, he’d pushed Lily away with words and with time. Now he wondered whether his actions were both unforgivable and irreparable. What if he’d lost her? “I was a pompous fool,” he admitted, remembering the name Lily had called him. “So, you made her write a letter to me?”

  “I encouraged her to write a letter to the man who held
her heart, disguising it as a note that I would give to Mr. Waverley. It was to be a confession, of sorts.” She paused to stifle a giggle. “Every step of the way was planned.”

  He didn’t think it all so humorous. “Then you stole her plays?” Henry asked. He was disappointed Jane would stoop so low to bring him and Lily together.

  “No, that was all Miss Appleton’s doing, with Mr. Waverley finding the disingenuous endeavor advantageous. And, you must admit, your friend made you jealous enough. That kiss she gave him was just the right amount of ammunition to feign being in love with her, although I can’t help but think that he enjoyed every minute of it.”

  Henry drew his hand down the length of his face. “Did you intend to sprain her ankle, too?”

  His sister sent him a disgusted look. “No, of course not! Apparently, Mr. Waverley is chivalrous beyond comprehension and saw himself saving poor Lily from a swan attack. What happened next was a series of events that could only be explained by an intervention of fate.”

  Henry scoffed but didn’t deny some truth to her words, which brought him full circle to his friend’s intentions toward his sister. “Jane—”

  “No, I have not lost my heart to Mr. Waverley. However, I must admit, if you promise not to shoot him, he does fascinate me.”

  Henry smiled. “I will not make any such promise.” Now, too eager to linger much longer, he lifted from his seat, bending down to place an affectionate kiss upon her head.

  “What are you to do now?” she asked, grasping his hand.

  “Pray I’m not too late,” he said.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lily sat at her writing desk in the early morning light, laboring over a scene she’d dreamed about in the middle of the night. There was a new character, a Mr. Winston, who had challenged Mr. Mortimer to a duel. Her thoughts moving faster than the quill and the ink, Lily worked valiantly to write down the number of paces between the men and the type of pistol both held in their right hands.

  “Lily, dear?”

  Lily jumped at her mother’s quiet voice and soft knock.

  “What is it, Mamma?”

  “Your father is asking for you in his study.”

  Lily dropped her shoulders and then her quill. Mr. Mortimer’s fate would have to wait, she supposed. For now, Lily needed to explain to her father, for the tenth time that week, why she didn’t wish to marry Mr. Gibbons, or anyone else, for that matter. This was the turn of the nineteenth century, and surely, she could find a respectable occupation that might earn her a comfortable living. Perhaps she could sell one of her plays.

  With another speech in her head, she opened her door and found her mother waiting for her outside her room.

  She was a short woman with a round face and light green eyes. Timid and affectionate, she grasped Lily’s arm and walked with her down a flight of stairs to the closed door of her father’s study. When Lily turned to smile at her mother, she noticed a tear rolling down the woman’s glistening cheek.

  Lily’s heart careened against her ribcage, suddenly anxious regarding her father’s summons and whatever was making her mother forlorn enough to elicit tears. “What—”

  The doorknob rattled, and the door opened with her father standing on the other side. He was dressed in his finest attire, his lips raised in a rare smile. Lily glanced from one parent to another, unable to predict what the next few minutes held for her. Her father had every right to deny her what she wanted for the good of the family. Of course, what she truly wanted and could never have was Henry Dalton. It was all very well. It was best she forget about him…well unless his character was shot at by his best friend, Mr. Winston.

  “You wished to see me, Papa?” she said, her throat tightening, despite her hardened thoughts.

  “Yes,” he said, tilting his head down, so his brown eyes peered over his spectacles. “Come and sit with me next to the window. It is a glorious morning.”

  Lily untangled herself from her mother’s hold and left her standing in the doorway to take a seat in an apple-green and white striped settee. It was indeed, a glorious morning, the grays and blues of dawn yet to dissolve into the heat of the sun.

  “It does a father well,” Mr. Scott began, “to know that he no longer worry about the welfare of his youngest child.”

  Lily closed her eyes and pressed her lips together, afraid if she didn’t, he might glance over at her and see them quiver. Oh, she didn’t want to think about having to marry Mr. Gibbons. Not only did she not love him, but she’d also come to realize he was a man who would leave her for weeks at a time without a care to her feelings.

  “So, it gives me great pleasure to give you this.”

  Lily opened her eyes to find a letter waiting for her on her lap. “Who—”

  Her father shook his head. “You will see.”

  Please don’t be from Mr. Waverley. Please don’t be from Mr. Waverley. With trembling hands, Lily opened the small folded paper and let her jaw drop to her chest.

  Mr. Scott,

  It has been brought to my attention your daughter is not, in fact, free to marry as I was led to believe. I would call this a just impediment. As may be expected, I wish not to pursue your daughter any further.

  Regards,

  Mr. Gibbons

  Lily could not imagine who had brought this impediment to Mr. Gibbon’s attention. Regarding Henry, there were too many to mention. Still, she couldn’t guess why he’d gone to such trouble to tell the man. After all, Henry had made it quite clear that he didn’t intend to pursue her either. Needless to say, he also had made it clear he didn’t even like her very much.

  As a blush of humiliation began to rise from her midsection into her cheeks, she glanced toward her father.

  “I was shocked, to say the least,” Mr. Scott said, gently taking the parchment out of her hand. “After all, what on earth could Mr. Gibbons mean?”

  Lily shook her head, the heat from her rising blush beginning to dampen her temples.

  “Then I received this letter.”

  Again, Lily glanced down to find another folded letter in her lap. Her fingers trembled worse this time, and her heart thundered from what her father may have discovered. Her throat so constricted with emotion, she could do nothing but unfold the correspondence.

  Dear Mr. Scott,

  I am ashamed to learn that I may have caused the unhappiness of a dear friend. You see, sir, seven years ago, I married your daughter to my brother, Henry Dalton, an act born of boredom and romantic circumstance. As innocent as it was, my brother insists, without delay, that he and your daughter come to a resolution regarding the matter.

  Regards,

  Miss Jane Dalton

  Lily blinked, her vision blurred by tears and frustration. When she finally folded up the letter and handed it back to her father, she felt as if her world had turned black and gray. Resolution? Did Henry think their act of marriage, though immature and impulsive, was so disgusting that he needed a resolution?

  Lily felt her eyebrows furrow together, and her fingers curl into a fist at her side. Who was Jane or Henry to undo seven years of her life? Both angry and disappointed, she faced her father. Of course, he was smiling. Although Mr. Scott was sometimes unrelenting and serious, he did love a good laugh on occasion.

  “Then there is the matter of this letter,” her father said, replacing the note Lily had just read with another shorter one. She inhaled and let out a quiet breath. Who was left to write?

  Dear Mr. Scott,

  I know this is unprecedented; however, I would like a visit with you to discuss my intention of marrying your daughter. I await your answer in your parlor.

  Lily’s heart stopped before slamming hard into her ribcage. She searched for a signature, only to find there wasn’t one. But it had to be from Mr. Waverley. He was the only gentleman who appeared to want her for a wife. Dear God. Although she liked him very much, she couldn’t see destroying Jane’s heart in the process of settling for a comfortable marriage.

>   “It is most extraordinary, is it not?” her father asked.

  Lily sat up straighter. “Yes, but I can’t marry the man who wrote you this letter,” she whispered, a stray tear slipping past her eyelashes to fall onto her cheek.

  Her father, as affectionate as her mother, placed an arm around her shoulder. “Why not?”

  Lily, for once in her adult life, needed to tell the truth to her parents, as well as to herself. “Because I’m in love with Mr. Henry Dalton, and I cannot, under any circumstance, bind myself to any man but him.” She blew out a breath as her father sat staring, unblinking, in her direction. Whether Henry loved her, no longer mattered.

  When enough time had passed, her father nodded and stood. “In that case, I suppose I cannot delay my answer to the gentleman any longer.”

  Lily opened her mouth to ask his meaning, only to receive a pat on her right cheek. After the doors had closed, she sat for a moment. “Oh, this is a complete and utter disaster,” Lily whispered, contemplating having to disappoint everyone. If her father meant to marry her to Mr. Waverley without delay, to keep the man from learning of her heart affair with Mr. Dalton, she realized she was in the same situation as before. No. That would not do.

  Perhaps if she brought Jane back here, Mr. Waverley might be convinced to change his mind about whom he loved. She also believed it was time to confront Henry about her feelings for him. She only prayed he wouldn’t stand and laugh at her when she did.

  More desperate than logical, Lily rushed from the room and outside, hurrying past the black carriage in front of the house and toward the gig her mother always wanted ready for her early morning rides.

  Without stopping to let anyone know, Lily climbed onto the light, two-wheeled vehicle and snapped the reins, spurring the gelding into motion.

  She supposed she’d drawn up within a mile of Hadley Manor when she heard the pounding of horse hooves behind her. The mist of the morning had yet to disappear when there was already another traveler, an impatient one, to be sure, traveling on the same road with her.