Emily worried her handkerchief between her fingers until it was nothing but a crumpled mess of linen. She tried to close her eyes and rest, but as the she neared Charleston, her chest began to feel tight, and her palms grew sweaty in her gloves. The elderly lady seated next to her for most of the journey had gotten off at the last stop, so now she sat with her unread book in her lap, mangled handkerchief between her fingers, and no one to distract her.
She passed time by examining the faces of the other passengers she could see. Mostly men, she looked at their individual features and wondered what Captain Prentis would look like. Celia had mentioned that he was fair skinned, with dark hair and blue eyes. Emily watched a rakishly handsome man seated across the aisle and wondered if Joshua would have the air of a profiteer. She knew he was tall, but was he lean, or fat, like the balding man with the red face, who kept trudging up and down the aisle and shamelessly looked straight into her eyes until she averted her gaze?
What if he found her ugly? Celia’s letters had described his fiancé as an extraordinary beauty, a true flower of the South. Emily looked down at her gloved hands. Beneath the lace were callouses and scars from years of working with her hands. She had always been proud of those hands, but now, how would they compare to pale silk softness of a woman who had never known hard work?
Not that her hands were her greatest failing. She was wont to wander out of doors without a hat. Her face, pleasant at best, was generously dusted with freckles, especially across her short nose. “Pert” her mother had called it, and gently kissed it when Emily was only a child being tucked into bed. Pert it may be, but it was not aristocratic, or shapely, or the kind of a nose that a beautiful woman would have. Emily pursed her lips. There were so many physical ways in which she was lacking. How could she hope to please a man who had been disappointed by perfection herself?
The conductor paused by her seat and graced her with a warm smile before moving down the car. She breathed slowly and deeply to calm her frayed nerves, and looked at the pocket watch her aunt had given her to be a gift for her husband to be. The train was only an hour out of Charleston. Emily was torn with joy at the prospect of seeing her dearest friend, and terror at the thought of meeting her husband to be.
“You’ve crossed an ocean alone. There is nothing in Charleston you need fear.” She said to herself, sneaking another look at the small gold timepiece. It was so lovely. Emily had cried when Cora had given it to her.
“Your father would have given you a dowry, Emily.” Cora had told her. “Take this with my love and your uncle’s. We will come visit you after you are wed, and he returns home.” Cora had pressed the box into Emily’s hands and together they had laughed and wept and said their goodbyes. Emily promised to write every week. Cora assured her they would telegram as soon as her uncle and cousin returned to New York.
Emily knew she would miss the bustling pace of the city. She longed for the beauty and culture her friend had promised her in her letters. She hoped that if she loved the place, and loved the man enough, perhaps he would grow to appreciate her presence and care for her in some way too.
Celia waited breathlessly at the station for Emily to arrive. Maddox had offered to accompany her, but Celia had shooed him away and called for her carriage. Smoke puffed on the horizon and Celia practically danced with excitement. It seemed like forever before the train finally pulled around the final turn and began to slow into the station. Celia scanned the faces that flooded toward her on the platform until finally, she saw the pretty, freckled face of Emily Bouchard. Emily saw her at almost that very second, and her pleasant features became infused with pure happiness that shone out of her, transforming her into a beauty like no other.
Celia and Emily embraced and cried and embraced again, before Celia finally beckoned for assistance with Emily’s luggage and led her towards the waiting carriage. Emily craned her neck at the magnolia and wisteria trees that seemed to grow on every street, and the fashion of the southern belles they passed on their way to the McGovern plantation.
“Does it have a name?” Emily asked as they slowly drove up the long lane toward the beautiful white plantation house. Celia laughed. She’d wondered the very same thing when she first saw the property.
“No.” She answered drily. “My Maddox has no sentiment for things.” She smiled and leaned toward Emily conspiratorially. “He does, however, have a few names for people, both good and bad. Do not be surprised if you earn a name that only he uses for you as well.” Emily looked shocked.
“Is that proper here, to give familiar names to those who are not family?” Emily asked.
“No. It is not.” Celia replied, and laughed. “Maddox is not proper for here, either. It is in good part why I love him.” Emily smiled. It was pleasant to see her friend so happy in marriage. It was everything she had hoped for Celia when she heard of her decision to marry a man she did not know. It was what she dearly wished for herself now.
Emily had hoped to see the dress makers and introduce herself to Captain Prentis properly, but Celia had insisted that it would be better for her to settle in at the plantation, wash away the journey, and rest before meeting her husband-to-be. She explained that Joshua and Maddox would be arriving for supper, and formal introductions would be made then, on neutral ground.
“I hardly think anywhere in South Carolina will be truly neutral, as he has lived here his entire life.” Emily groused as Celia helped undress her from her travel clothes. Emily had worked so hard on that particular dress. She had hoped he would see it and know what a fine seamstress she was. The only dress she had that was appropriate for dinner was made for her as a parting gift from her teacher in London. It was finer than anything else she owned, for certain, but it was not her handiwork.
Celia’s servants bathed and dressed Emily, much to her dismay. She was unused to having people assist her with her underthings and was quite out of sorts after the ordeal. By the time they had completed their ministering, she hardly recognized herself. Her freckles had almost disappeared into milky white skin. Her hair had been brushed until she thought it would all fall out, and her head was in pain. Yet, when she looked in the mirror, a fine lady of the south seemed to peer back at her, albeit one with a peevish expression on her face. Emily smoothed out her furrowed brow and un-pursed her lips and the lady in the mirror did the same.
Celia pronounced her appearance “perfection” and led her to the sitting room, where tea and a small selection of petite fours and cherry mint tarts were artfully arranged on platters. Emily slowly picked at some food Celia forced on her, but her nervousness and tight corset conspired against her and she couldn’t bring herself to enjoy the lovely baked treats. Celia’s house lady, Savanah, informed them that the men had arrived and were cleaning off the dust from their ride, and suggested the ladies retire to the veranda to enjoy the cooling evening and a mint julep before supper.
Emily’s nerves jangled and her hands began to tremble. Celia smiled in encouragement and proffered to Emily the seat farthest from the front door, so that Emily would have the benefit of seeing the people coming out as they saw her. It was only a brief wait before they heard the footsteps and cane thump of the two men and they were joined on the veranda by two men, one of which was the largest, bearded man Emily had ever seen, and the other, a handsome, rugged gentleman with a cane and a scowl on his face. Emily dropped her eyes to her lap. She clutched her hands together tightly in her lap and tried to control her breathing.
Joshua stepped out the front door behind Maddox, to give his nerves a moment more to calm. He was unsettled by the inevitability of meeting Emily. Heretofore, she had been an idea, a possibility. Now, she was a person, who had uprooted her whole life on the hope that he as a better man than he believed himself to be. He breathed deeply and exhaled, then elbowed his friend in the back to encourage him to remove his bulk from the doorway.
As he moved from behind Maddox, Joshua was confronted by two women. The first, his friend and employee, bask
ing in the bliss of her machinations come to fruition. The other, a pale, timid slip of a girl with soft, brown doe-eyes and hair the color of caramel. The impact of her wide-eyed gaze on his gut was hard and fast, a fist that nearly knocked the wind out of him. He frowned at his overtly physical reaction to this stranger, a woman he only knew from letters as poor and intelligent. That she was so lovely and pleasing to look at was not part of his internal equation.
Celia had been watching Joshua as emotions chased, one after another, across his face. She knew he saw Emily as intended. Without the excessive trappings favored in the south, but as lovely as Celia always knew her to be. She turned to Emily, a victorious smirk forming on her lips. It was chased away when she saw the disappointment in her friend’s eyes, and her diminished glow. She reached out and gently touched Emily’s hand and smiled.
“Savanah informed us that supper is ready whenever we are.” Maddox informed the ladies in a bass so deep that Emily’s eyes widened in alarm. Maddox laughed at her expression. “It has been too long since I have had the pleasure of meeting one of Celia’s lovely friends.” He growled, taking Emily’s hand and bowing low over it. “I am honored to have someone my wife holds in such high esteem in my home. Welcome.” He released her hand and made room for a proper introduction to Joshua.
“My lady.” Joshua gave a shallow bow and held out his hand for hers. Emily cautiously reached out and allowed him to take her cold, trembling hand in his large, warm one. Electricity sped up her arm and her face went from merely pale, to ashen white with shock. His physical presence took the breath from her lungs at such proximity. He leaned over her hand and instead of merely bowing, held his lips to her the backs of her lithe fingers, holding her hand to his mouth until even Maddox shifted uncomfortably behind him. After an eternity of discomfiture on the part of his hosts, Joshua finally raised his eyes to stare at Emily, feral and possessive and utterly male in lust and need. Emily jerked her hand back with a gasp, and Joshua flushed with embarrassment. Joshua turned away and limped into the house without another word, with Maddox trailing behind him, leaving Celia to comfort the confused Emily.
“What is wrong with you, man?” Maddox demanded of the angry Joshua once they were alone. “You damn near scared the wits out of that poor girl.” Maddox jostled Joshua into the library and closed the door. “She isn’t a woman-for-hire. You, scoundrel! She’s a good girl.” Joshua threw his hands out to the sides in frustration.
“I know she’s a good girl. I have no idea what got into me.” He stomped around the room, the thump of his cane punctuating every step. “I very nearly did more than simply kiss her hand, Maddox.” He ran his fingers through his hair, standing it on end. “I felt like I could’ve eaten her alive.” Maddox took a surprised step back, then laughed out loud.
“Good lord man. Are you serious?” He grabbed Joshua’s shoulders. “That’s wonderful. You do like her!” Maddox chuckled evilly. “Celia will be impossible now, you know.” He paced back and forth in front of the door. “You need to apologize, of course. Blame the war. You’ve been away from proper society so long, you forgot your manners.” Maddox stopped pacing and shook a finger in Joshua’s face. “She is staying with us until you have finalized your nuptials, that is for certain. Celia will be happy to be your chaperone, and you obviously need one, even if Miss Emily does not.”
Joshua leaned against the fireplace mantel, his face in his hands, mortified that he was so inappropriate as to presume such intimate familiarity with the young woman at first meeting. He looked up at his friend with utter dismay. Maddox hid a smile behind his hand.
“My biggest fear of this night, would be that I would find out her letters were a display of deception and she would be utterly unappealing.” Joshua scrubbed at his face with his hands. “Instead, I have made myself look the fool and possibly changed her mind.” And why did he care, he thought to himself, if this nymph of a girl found him respectable?
There was a quiet knock on the library door, and when Maddox opened it, Savanah stood outside. She relayed the request of Celia that the men join them in the dining room for their evening meal, before it got cold. Maddox slapped his friend on the back companionably.
“You may as well get that apology over with, Joshua.” He remarked with a chuckle. “Remember to blame the war. It has worked for everyone else’s bad behavior, why not yours as well.” Joshua sniffed and shook his head.
“Great. I’ll do that. And when I’m done, I’ll knock Gregory Livingston over the head with a bottle of rotgut and blame that on the war as well.” Joshua remarked nonchalantly. “It would certainly be… therapeutic to my soul.” Joshua laughed without mirth and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Lead on, my friend.”
The candlelight that gently lit the dining room did nothing to hide the wholesome loveliness of the lady across the table from Joshua, nor did it mask the caution in her regard of him. He had apologized profusely for his inelegant introduction and in fact, Celia had interjected with blame placed squarely on the war before Joshua had a chance.
Emily sweetly accepted the apology, but continued to watch Joshua with a detached curiosity. Her watchfulness reminded Joshua of a fox that he had hunted, which had been preying on his chickens. When he had found her, the vixen was pacing in front of her burrow, watching and waiting, but not running or attacking. The fox had simply watched and waited to decide on a course of action. Joshua offered Emily a smile and inclined his head to her. She looked at him quizzically, but proffered a shy smile in return.
It was well into darkness when Joshua finally called for his horse. Celia lamented that he was sure to be thrown in the dark, but Joshua was adamant that he would be perfectly safe on his own. In truth, he needed time alone to think. He had bungled his first meeting with Emily, but the evening had progressed far better than it had begun. He felt his heart betraying his logic every time he heard Emily laugh, or saw her smile. He began to question his worthiness anew. Emily was not simply a woman found to fill his needs. She was the kind of woman a man searched for and wooed. Joshua warred with himself. Deep down, he knew his fear. That he would find another perfect woman, and he would be found wanting.
“No one is perfect.” Joshua stated firmly to himself as he rode home. No one is perfect, he thought as he readied himself for bed, in the cold, empty house. No one is perfect, he reminded himself as he lay in bed, unable to sleep for the memory of her brown eyes, innocent and intelligent as they saw through his façade and weighed his soul. Sleep finally found Joshua as the early light crept over the horizon, and he dreamed of pale skin and soulful eyes.
6. Emily saves Joshua.
It was lovely for Emily to be so close to Celia and Maddox. She got over her initial apprehension over the sheer physical magnitude of her friend’s husband and soon felt as though they had been acquainted her entire life. Celia soon had Emily sewing and filling her time with the beginning of a new wardrobe, fit for social gatherings. Emily wrote her aunt and asked after her uncle and cousin, who were still alive at the time of their last letters, and might even be returning home soon.
Joshua began to call on Emily daily. He listened while she spoke of her voyage across the ocean alone, and the hardship of working long days at the textile mill up North. He did not pressure her to leave the grounds, but regaled her with stories from his childhood and the history of Charleston. Little by little, Emily began to see the man that Celia had written about in her letters. Her heart ached when he left, and she lost sleep at night wondering why he didn’t see fit to propose.
Meanwhile, Joshua sold everything of value he owned, except for his horse and his shop. He was so close to buying his property back, and began to hope for a future with the woman he had written into his life. She was more than he had thought possible. He promised himself when he finally proposed, she would want for nothing, and have no reason to deny him.
Emily grew impatient to see the dressmakers and told Celia she could wait no longer to try her hand with the work ther
e. Celia sent word to Joshua that Emily would be with her the next morning. Joshua, pleased with the response, took extra care with his toiletries, that he might make Emily forget their first meeting. He cursed his limp and the need for a cane, but otherwise did his best to look a gentleman. He only prayed that his desire would not betray him and make a fool of him again.
Happier than he remembered being in an age, Joshua rode into town and made his way toward his storefront. He slowed as he came across a large group of people standing outside blocking his entrance. He dismounted and limped toward the shop, but was detained by the elderly grocer he’d befriended, Mr. Darby.
“Joshua.” Mr. Darby began still holding the younger man by the shoulders. “There has been an…accident at your shop.” Joshua struggled against Mr. Darby’s hold and broke free of him to see. What he found was no accident. The large picture window had been smashed in, and bolts of fine fabric lay in the road, unwound and torn to shreds. He stepped through the broken glass and surveyed the damage inside. Mannequins were smashed, all the cloth ruined, and as he walked behind the counter, even the till was broken and empty.
He had nothing left. What little money he had would never replace everything and still allow him to pay for his home. He had to choose, keep his storefront, or stay on his family land. He knew who to blame. If he couldn’t continue to pay rent on his land, Livingston could sell it out from under him. He had been so close to saving enough to buy it back according to the terms Livingston had set. How could he give up his livelihood for his home?
Joshua reeled from the pain and shock of what had happened. He had no proof of who had caused the destruction. He was helpless to save his land. He appraised the cost to replace his stolen and damaged wares. He could never ask Emily to marry him now. Homeless and impoverished, it would take years before he could consider providing for a wife the way he should. As if she had heard his thoughts, Emily and Celia pushed their way through the crowd and found him standing forlorn in the midst of the damage.
The Thanksgiving Day Bride: Mail Order Bride Novels Page 83