Fortune's Bride

by Jane Peart

  Venice

  Here I fell in love with Italy! It is beautiful and romantic. The graceful bridges over the canals, the long, slender gondolas sliding smoothly on the water, the boatmen standing at the stern, guiding them effortlessly along. I would love to ride in one, sit under the tapestried, fringed awnings, glide through the mysterious, winding waterways, listening to the musical Italian voices—

  Auntie May is fiercely protective lest I swoon under the spell of all the dark-eyed, handsome gondoliers smiling boldly at the prim and proper English and American lady tourists!

  Baveno

  Auntie May is fatigued, so we are taking a week’s rest in this neat, pleasant town on the edge of the Lago di Maggiore. She lounges on the sunlit piazzo while I stroll alone down to the lake. This is what I imagine Paradise must be like—quiet, still, infinitely beautiful. All the hustle, the confusion, the tiresomeness of endless travel simply melts away. Here the spirit is refreshed, nourished. A oneness with the Creator assures one that nothing more is needed, for He is sufficient. I stay until duty drags me back to take supper with the others in the small dining room. Even there, if one picks the right seat at the table, one can still bask in the tranquillity of the lake.

  As she turned the pages slowly, stopping to read an entry here and there, Avril saw the one place where she had recounted an unusual incident. She had almost forgotten it in the months since, while traveling in other countries, but it was an incident she had evidently deemed significant enough to record.

  She and Auntie May had been touring the Cathedral Notre Dame in Paris when, pausing to look more closely at one of the side altars, Avril had fallen a little behind the rest of the group. Quite suddenly she had felt the eerie sensation that someone was watching her. A shivery chill shuddered through her, and she turned slowly to look over her shoulder, aware of a movement in one of the shadowy arches.

  It was such a fleeting glimpse, observed from the periphery of her vision, that she could not be sure what she had seen. Then, Auntie May, noticing her absence, called to her and Avril had hurried forward to rejoin her companions. Later, however, as they were gathering in front of the cathedral to take a carriage back to the hotel, Avril saw, on the fringe of the crowd, Claude Duchampes—the mysterious visitor of her school days, the distant cousin who had appeared, then vanished again after that one incident—until her graduation, when he had sent her a bouquet.

  She stared at him, wondering what on earth he was doing in Paris. As their eyes met, it seemed to her that he started toward her. At that very moment their carriage arrived and Avril was jostled along in the press of boarding. When she looked out the window, she saw no sign of the man.

  Had it really been he? Or perhaps some Frenchman with the same Gallic good looks?

  Avril had never told Graham about Monsieur Duchampes’ unannounced visit at Faith Academy, nor had she ever again worn the bracelet he had told her belonged to her mother. She did not know why exactly. Somehow the whole episode was cloaked in mystery and had a distinctly unsavory air that she felt was better kept hidden—like the moonstone bracelet.

  Avril glanced at a few more entries, then closed the book. There were only a few blank pages left to fill.

  She sighed, resting her head against her hand. This year had been a long one, but it was nearly over. At times she had thought it would never end. Recalling the kneeling “penitents” she had observed Easter week in Rome, she recognized the similarity. This had been her year of “penance” for her reckless behavior on the evening of the ball!

  She had put the year to good use, determined to grow, to mature, to improve herself, to become the cultured, refined woman that Graham could love, accept as his life’s companion. Above all, however, she had yearned to grow spiritually.

  And she had tried, Avril told herself. She had been faithful in her devotions every morning, carrying her little New Testament and the Psalms with her everywhere. She had prayed earnestly and reminded herself often of the words she had taken as her talisman: “Delight thyself also in the Lord; and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart.”

  Yes, it had been a year of “penance,” but it had also been a year of growth, evolving, and maturing. She had learned to be less selfish, giving in to Auntie May’s plans and wishes when many times she would have preferred to assert her own. She had sought the Lord daily and asked to be conformed to His will for her life. And she had written regularly to Graham, putting down all the small, personal things she thought he would like to hear about her impressions of the people and places she encountered.

  She began to imagine what it would be like to sit down with him in person so that they could discuss and laugh together about some of the things that had happened.

  Avril smiled to herself as she left the window and went to dress for the dinner she and Auntie May would be attending at the home of some Italian friends. It wouldn’t be long now until she would be back at Montclair, back with Graham. Just a matter of weeks!

  But at the very moment she was happily anticipating going home, in England Hugh Cameron, on the eve of his departure to join them in Italy, suffered a serious heart attack.

  chapter

  23

  “BUT IT IS SIMPLY out of the question, Avril! You cannot go back alone! I would be lacking in every respect as a substitute guardian to even consider such a thing. A young woman traveling without a chaperon? Oh, no, my dear, Graham would never hear of it!” Auntie May said firmly.

  “But now that Uncle Hugh is out of danger and you are both so nicely situated here …” protested Avril, trying to control her own frustration. She had done her best to support, sustain, and comfort Auntie May during the weeks when Hugh Cameron had hovered between life and death, then all through the long days of his slow recovery.

  It had been months since they had rushed to Hugh’s bedside—months of idleness and boredom for Avril, since she could be of no real help. May was with the patient constantly, and he was attended by a nurse. There were no other young people and there was very little for Avril to do. She yearned to go home, longed to see Graham, to be at Montclair.

  Some English friends had offered them the Dower House on their estate in Kent for the Camerons’ use while Hugh recuperated. Everything had been supplied for their comfort. Now that she was no longer really needed, Avril was eager to leave.

  “No, no, my dear! Graham entrusted me with your care and I would be shirking my responsibilities to contemplate such an idea. You must be patient and we shall all go home together.” Auntie May spoke as if the subject was closed.

  Avril knew there was no point in further argument. Auntie May’s stern resistance to her request was reinforced by Graham in his letters. To his urgings to render all the supportive help she could to his dear friends, the Camerons, she had no rebuttal. So, as cheerfully as possible, Avril resigned herself to the circumstances.

  Their hosts had offered for her enjoyment any of the horses in their large stable. She accepted this gratefully, finding that the daily rides relieved some of her pent-up vexation at being stranded so far from home on this remote country estate.

  One afternoon, upon returning from one such invigorating outing, Auntie May met her at the door with an expression of suppressed excitement.

  “Avril, go right out to the garden! There’s a wonderful surprise for you!”

  An improbable hope sprang up in Avril. Could it be Graham come to fetch her home himself? Oh, it must be, she thought with a racing heart. Why else would Auntie May look so delighted?

  Rounding the corner of the house, she saw a man’s figure through the lattice of the gazebo at the end of the garden. Her head spun happily. It was Graham! He had missed her enough to come for her personally!

  But at the sound of her boots on the flagstone path, the man turned and came to the archway of the gazebo and Avril felt all her excited happiness disappear.

  It wasn’t Graham after all. It was Jamison Buchanan.

  Under the circumstances, her stunned e
xpression must have appeared natural, because Jamison grinned broadly and came toward her, arms outstretched.

  “Avril! I’m so glad to see you! You don’t know how much I’ve missed you!” He put his arms around her waist and looked at her with love and longing. She was too shocked to protest when he drew her close. “You’re even more beautiful than I remembered.”

  Before she realized it, she was in his arms, his lips pressed against her temple, and he was whispering words of endearment. The depth of her disappointment began to penetrate. Tears rushed into her eyes and she clung to Jamison, resting her head against his shoulder so that he could not see that she was crying.

  Mistaking her emotion for gladness, he laughed tenderly. “Oh, my darling! I can’t tell you how I’ve longed for this moment. This past year has seemed like an eternity.” Then, holding her at arm’s length, he said with shining eyes, “I’ve such plans! I’ll soon be able to hang out my own shingle, have my own law practice. Father has offered me land to build on if I return to Pleasant Valley. At last I have something substantial to offer, Avril. That is—” Jamison paused. “I mean that is why I had to come and see you so we could talk about the future. I need reason to hope that—”

  Automatically Avril put her fingers on his lips. “Jamison! Please! Let me recover from the shock,” she murmured. “You are the very last person I expected to see here—of all places.” She made a weak gesture.

  “I know. It does seem strange for us to be together here hundreds and hundreds of miles from home.” He was regarding her with a look of unconditional acceptance and love.

  She turned away abruptly, knowing she did not deserve it. Neither his love nor his devotion. Certainly not his dreams of a shared future! But he was so sweet, so dear and special, and she did not want to hurt him, even though she knew that eventually she would break his heart.

  Just then Auntie May appeared with a tea tray.

  “I know I haven’t given you two enough time alone, but Dora had the tea ready, so I thought we could have it out here where it’s so pretty and pleasant. And to tell the truth, I’m dying to hear all the news and gossip from home.”

  Jamison quickly took the tray from her and set it on the low, round table inside the gazebo.

  Turning to Avril, Auntie May went on, “Isn’t this a lovely surprise. Avril? You and Jamison will have plenty of time to be together. He is staying the week. Now, isn’t that a treat?”

  Avril felt her throat constrict. A week, a whole week? How would she manage to avoid the one subject Jamison had come over three thousand miles to discuss?

  “I think I’ll go up and change before tea,” she managed to say.

  “Yes, dear, that’s probably a good idea. I imagine you are warm from your ride and will feel better when you’re refreshed. In the meantime, Jamison and I will have a nice chat.”

  Upstairs in her room overlooking the garden, Avril heard the murmur of their voices interspersed with occasional laughter. She would have to think of some way to get through the next few days of Jamison’s unexpected visit.

  Her mind whirled with possibilities. They could ride, go sightseeing, visit the ruined Abbey nearby, and he had already mentioned the fair to be held this weekend. If only Auntie May would not keep providing them with “time to be alone.” Maybe she should confide her fear to Auntie May, enlist her help.

  Yes! That was it! Auntie May was very clever at manipulating and arranging. She would be full of suggestions and advice.

  As it turned out, telling Auntie May was a grave mistake. May had gazed at her in shocked dismay. “But why in the world would you want to discourage his suit?” she asked. “Jamison is a fine young man.”

  ‘That’s just it. I don’t want to hurt him, Auntie May,” cried Avril, exasperated by May’s lack of understanding. “Surely you know that it would be wrong to give Jamison the impression that a proposal would be welcome or, for that matter, possible!”

  “Why ever not?”

  “Have you forgotten that I am not free to marry anyone?”

  Auntie May paled. Her eyes widened and she drew in her breath. “Have you forgotten, my dear, that your so-called ‘marriage’ was only a legal device to protect your property until you are twenty-one? There is no clause, no legality, that would prevent you from becoming engaged. Many engagements last two years or more. Why, my own to Hugh—”

  “I am still married in the sight of the law,” persisted Avril stubbornly. “As a lawyer, Jamison could certainly be aware of the situation.”

  “But no one knows!” protested Auntie May. “The—‘arrangement’—was kept secret so that you could make a suitable marriage when the time came. Graham discussed all this quite thoroughly with Hugh, and, of course, the ‘paper marriage’ will be quietly annulled when you reach the age of twenty-one.”

  “Perhaps I don’t want an annulment,” Avril said quietly.

  “My dear child—” began Auntie May, looking distressed.

  “And I am no longer a child.”

  Flustered, Auntie May tried again. “That marriage document is just that. A document! A scrap of paper. Nothing else, undertaken with no other objective but to protect you, not bind you.”

  “But it does, Auntie May,” Avril said calmly. “And it binds Graham as well!”

  At this May sat down as if her legs would no longer support her.

  “Surely you don’t think …” Her voice trailed off and she stared at Avril, speechless. When she spoke her tone was brisk. “Avril, I agree with you that you should not mislead Jamison. He is too good and honorable to deceive. But I must speak to you the way I feel in my heart is the best, even if I must dash your hopes and dreams.” She cleared her throat. “I am well aware of your infatuation with Graham. Up until now, I felt you would eventually outgrow such a fantasy. It is, of course, absurd to think anything would come of it! It is out of the question, because I know Graham, and I know he would be embarrassed by such an idea! Now, you must put such thoughts out of your head once and for all. Set your sights on someone nearer your own age, someone who loves you dearly. That would cure your hopeless yearning for someone who can never be yours.”

  “I think that will be up to Graham,” Avril said stubbornly.

  Auntie May slowly shook her head. “Oh, my dear girl, you are heading for heartbreak.”

  “Better that than a loveless marriage!” replied Avril.

  So the unsatisfactory conversation ended. But neither of them forgot what had been said.

  At the end of the week when Jamison prepared to leave, he had secured no promise from Avril—only the hope that once back in Virginia he might persuade her to make him the happiest man in the world.

  chapter

  24

  AT THE END of the summer Logan arrived to help his mother on the homeward journey with his still-ailing father. Their sailing date depended on the doctors’ assurances that Hugh was strong enough to withstand the long sea voyage.

  While they waited, Avril and Logan spent time together. It was a welcome change for Avril, who had been rather isolated in the country without the company of other young people. She had welcomed the chance to renew the warmth of this childhood friendship after such a long time.

  Logan brought interesting news, which he shared with her a few days after his arrival. “My brother has been spending a great deal of time traveling back and forth between Virginia and North Carolina!”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes! Wearing the ruts off the road as a matter of fact.”

  Used to Logan’s sometimes annoying manner of drawing out a story for all it was worth, Avril played along.

  “How so?” she asked. “Any particular place in North Carolina?”

  “One you are familiar with—a plantation in the eastern part of the state.”

  “Could I guess the name?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Does it have something to do with timber?”

  “Quite.”

  “Woodlawn?”

  “
Right!”

  They both laughed, then Logan continued. “It’s your merry-eyed roommate, of course. Marshall hasn’t written our parents yet because of father’s illness. But he wants to speak to Becky’s father. In fact, by now he may already have done so.”

  “I’m so pleased! Becky is perfect for Marshall!”

  “And I’ve heard rumors about the same family as far as you’re concerned as well!” Logan said, regarding Avril half seriously yet with the old teasing glint in his eyes.

  “From whom? Auntie May?”

  “Partly. But Marshall told me that Jamison’s sole purpose in taking time out from his law studies was to come over here to see you and, I assume, to propose.”

  Avril shook her head. “I’m sorry if anyone got that impression.”

  “Then, it’s not true?”

  She hesitated. “Not exactly.”

  “You mean you refused?”

  “Not exactly that, either,” she sighed. “He may have come with that objective in mind but—”

  “But?”

  Avril turned to face Logan. “I’d really prefer not to discuss it, Logan. Let’s just say there is no basis for any talk of engagements, except that of Becky and Marshall.”

  Logan gazed at her steadily, then gave her a mock bow. “Your wish is my command. Now, enough of seriousness. Tomorrow morning, let’s go riding, just as in the old days!”

  Avril paused before answering. “Tomorrow is Sunday, Logan. Since coming here, I’ve been attending the early service at the village church.”

  He looked startled.

  “You’re welcome to come with me, if you like.”

  Logan looked disconcerted. “I’ve never been much for church. Chapel was compulsory when I was here in school, you know.” He shrugged rather sheepishly. “I guess it just never took.”