Fortune's Bride

by Jane Peart

  Avril did not reply to this comment and they began walking in silence until Logan said, “I know that school you attended was very strict, very religious. Is that where you got this church thing? I mean, we’ve always gone to services when we were in Williamsburg, at Christmas and Easter but …” He seemed puzzled.

  “Maybe you never felt the need, Logan. But, yes, when I was at the Academy I did learn I needed God in my life. It’s as simple or as complicated as that, I guess.” They walked along in contemplation for a while. “There is something very special about this little church,” she continued. “I’ve been in some of the great cathedrals on our travels, the most famous in the world, but somehow, it’s here I feel closest to God.”

  “Well, that’s very nice for you, Avril,” Logan said with uncharacteristic stiffness. “It’s good for ladies to be religious.”

  “Oh, Logan, you sound so pompous!” Avril laughed.

  Logan looked offended. “I meant it’s more to the taste of women—church and all that kneeling and praying—”

  Avril shook her head, still smiling, but her eyes were grave. “No, Logan, you’re wrong. It’s for everyone. You just have to find it.”

  Logan squirmed uncomfortably, so Avril said no more. But she could not help wondering if all men—if Graham—felt as Logan did.

  With her newly vitalized faith, Avril determined when she got back that she would open a discussion with Graham about spiritual things. If they were to have a future together as Avril was convinced they were, they would have to have a shared faith.

  The sun had barely touched the tops of the trees when Avril set out early the next morning to walk the short distance to the stone church in the village. It was so comforting to be able to go to morning worship and evening vespers. Since leaving Faith Academy, she had not realized how much she had missed the comfort of regular church attendance.

  In the dim interior of this ancient little church, she felt the peace of its stillness envelop her. Hearing the words of the Psalms read aloud by the rector in his refined English accent confirmed in her heart the verses that she had committed to memory. The order of worship was different from the one she had been introduced to at the Academy, but there was a unity in the Gospel that was universal and eternal.

  Here “the desires of her heart” seemed possible. Here her faith was strengthened. In spite of what Auntie May said, or how “suitable” Jamison seemed to everyone else, Avril held firm to her belief that God would fulfill His purpose in her life. And that plan, she felt sure, included Graham.

  At last the doctors gave the word that Hugh could travel, and the arrangements were made for their departure early in September. Everything went well and soon they were on board ship sailing for home, with fine weather, smooth seas, and agreeable fellow passengers.

  With her husband improving rapidly and no longer the focus of her considerable energy and attention, Auntie May again turned them upon Avril. With more tenacity than tact she again raised the subject of Jamison Buchanan.

  May joined her one sunny afternoon as Avril lounged in a deck chair. “It will be nice to be home again, won’t it, dear?” she began.

  “Oh, yes! It’s been so long,” sighed Avril thinking with mixed emotions of seeing Graham again.

  “Has Logan mentioned Marshall’s hopes to marry Rebecca?”

  Avril nodded, smiling. “Yes, I’m happy for both of them.”

  “Their happiness could be yours also, you know,” Auntie May ventured. “Jamison is so in love with you. It is obvious to anyone who sees the two of you together.”

  “Please, Auntie May, I’ve told you how I feel—”

  “You’ve told me how you feel, Avril,” replied Auntie May firmly. “But have you thought about how Graham feels? He loves you as he would a younger sister, his best friend’s daughter. After all, Avril, he is nearly as old as your father, of another generation! You cannot believe anything will ever come of such a hopeless infatuation. It is impossible. Dear child, do be sensible and think of making a marriage with a kind, caring, young man who is devoted to you. Of course, as the third son in his family he will not likely receive a great inheritance but you, my dear, at age twenty-one will be an enormously wealthy young woman, and so you would both benefit.”

  Avril pulled the lap robe more securely about her against the brisk sea breeze. But nothing daunted Auntie May’s litany.

  “Since he knows nothing of it, I am not implying that Jamison’s motives are anything but romantic love! And I cannot emphasize what a rare ingredient that is in most marriages! Which proves how wise Graham was to protect you, my dear,” she said, raising a finger to make her point. “You, unlike some heiresses, have not been the target of fortune hunters. But that was what it was—an act of protection. An affectionate bond exists between you, I’ll admit, but Graham has never intended a real marriage, of that you may be sure.”

  “Perhaps, when Graham sees me as I am now—a cultured, educated woman, well-prepared to become his wife and the mistress of Montclair—his intentions will change. When I tell him that I love him, that I do not want our legal marriage dissolved, I think he will agree.”

  Auntie May looked distressed. “Can’t I make you understand how very unsuitable it is?” she begged.

  Moved by her obvious dismay’s Avril reached out and clasped the older lady’s hand in both her own. “No, Auntie May. I’m sorry to upset you, but no.”

  “Then there is no way I can save you.” Auntie May’s eyes filled with tears and she turned away and quickly disappeared below deck.

  Avril leaned on the railing and stared out at the dark blue ocean, its surface sparkling in the sun. The conversation with Auntie May had been disturbing, churning up all Avril’s own fears and uncertainties. She did not know how long she had stood there lost in her thoughts before she felt a hand on her arm, and Logan’s voice broke softly into her melancholy.

  “Why so sad?”

  She turned, lifting her face to his. “Auntie May wants me to marry Jamison Buchanan.”

  Something curious flickered in Logan’s eyes as he looked at Avril, studying her. Then after a long silence, he asked, “Why don’t you make everybody happy and marry me?”

  “What? And lose my best friend?”

  Part V

  Homecoming

  1816

  Hold fast the confidence and the rejoicing of the hope firm unto the end.

  Hebrews 3:6

  chapter

  25

  AS BECKY’S maid of honor Avril would be leaving for Woodlawn a week in advance of the wedding for the round of parties and other festivities preceding the ceremony.

  The morning she was to leave, Graham was sitting at his desk in the library when she came down the stairs dressed for traveling. When he saw her, he drew in his breath.

  Ever since Avril’s return from Europe, Graham had found himself in an emotional dilemma. He had not been prepared for the impact of Avril’s coming back into his life. His reaction to the stunning young woman, poised and possessed of an inner, quiet confidence, had shaken him.

  She paused in front of the hall mirror to adjust the brim of her high-crowned hat, ribboned in two shades of green. The color set off her auburn curls and matched her traveling dress of apple green, corded Italian silk trimmed in dark green velvet.

  Suddenly her eyes met his in the mirror and she smiled, knowing he had been watching her. Unembarrassed, she turned slowly around and walked toward the library.

  At the doorway she stood for a moment. “Well? Do I pass inspection? Do you approve?”

  Her eyes sparkled mischievously. Gold-and-amber earrings swung from the tips of her ears. Her shoes were bronze kid and she carried a bronze silk parasol.

  He rose from behind his desk. “Forgive me for staring,” he smiled. “You are a vision, but you don’t need my approval. The compliments you are sure to receive from the Camerons will surpass anything I could say.”

  She looked pleased. “But it’s your approval I want
.”

  “You have it then.”

  He approached the doorway, his heart pounding as he drew near her. She looked at him and he felt he might drown in the depths of those sea green eyes. She was so close that her scent, like rain-washed roses, was intoxicating. Vainly he struggled against the desire that tantalized, the urge to take her in his arms. The moment stretched between them, then Avril rose on her tiptoes, ready to kiss him. Involuntarily he stepped back.

  “Are you ready? Have you all your baggage?” she asked him brusquely.

  “Yes, Hector took it down earlier.”

  “I had the carriage brought around. You’d best be off then.” Graham felt his stomach knot with anxiety. These feelings he was experiencing were bewildering and must be banished immediately.

  “You will be coming to Woodlawn in a day or two, won’t you?” Avril asked.

  “Of course.” In a way he wished there were some way he could have declined the Buchanans’ invitation. For several years, he had purposely avoided weddings. But this one was different, with the bride being Avril’s closest friend, and the groom, the son of his longtime neighbors.

  At the front door she stopped and gazed at him wistfully. “I hate saying good-bye to you,” she sighed. “Why is it we always seem to be saying good-bye?”

  There was a look in her eyes that undid him. How very lovely she was, how soft and vulnerable her sweetly curved mouth, Graham thought, then abruptly pulled his errant thoughts in line. Afraid he might betray his emotional turmoil, his voice harshened unintentionally.

  “Oh, come now,” he scoffed. “Why it’s only for a short time, and you will soon be in the midst of a circle of admirers having a glorious reunion with your friends and any number of lively young people. Don’t be so melodramatic.”

  Avril stepped back, her expression revealing her hurt, and Graham instantly regretted his offhand remark.

  But she seemed to recover quickly and she lifted her face and brushed her cool, smooth cheek against his. “Yes, I know. But I shall still miss you—and Montclair!”

  And then she was flying down the steps, a her rich russet curls bouncing, flash of green and gold, light as a feather or an autumn leaf.

  Graham, feeling deeply troubled, stood on the veranda watching as the carriage rounded the bend at the turn of the driveway. What he was feeling was as familiar as it was disturbing. A man’s feelings for a beautiful, desirable woman. Feelings he should not be having toward Avril.

  He understood now the unrelenting loneliness he had felt all these months she had been away. The minute he had seen her it had all lifted. With her had come all the light and laughter, the gaiety and companionship he had missed. He felt as if he had recovered from a long, debilitating illness.

  Graham stared down the now empty driveway lined with elms. He must be on guard from now on where Avril was concerned. There was much to think about, much to decide. At the end of August, when she turned twenty-one, she would come into her property. At that time his guardianship would end and with it the legal marriage he had entered into to keep her inheritance safe and secure.

  Until August then, he must be very careful.

  When Avril arrived at Woodlawn, even before she could alight from the carriage, the front door opened and Becky flew down the porch steps to greet her.

  “It’s so good to see you! I want to hear all about your trip to Europe. You look so grand! That outfit must be from Paris. Oh, how exciting it all is!”

  Becky hardly let Avril catch her breath or do more than give the briefest of greetings to Mrs. Buchanan before dragging her upstairs to the bedroom they were to share during Avril’s visit.

  “I am going to have you all to myself as long as I can, because the minute Jamie knows you have arrived, he will want to monopolize you!” Becky smiled knowingly. “Now, tell me, how was Paris?”

  “Rainy.”

  “And Italy?”

  “Sunny.”

  “Oh, come now, Avril.” Becky giggled.

  “All right, what do you want to know?”

  Avril settled on the high four-poster bed opposite Becky, and they launched into a conversation liberally sprinkled with laughter and constant interruptions.

  At length, Becky sighed. “Can you believe it? Here we are, just as if nothing had changed and we were back in our room at the Academy! Oh, Avril, let’s always be friends, no matter what!”

  “Of course! Why shouldn’t we be?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe, now that I’m to be married, things will be different for us.”

  “Silly! No!”

  “Oh, Avril, I wish you were getting married, too.” Her eyes sparkled with inspiration. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if this were going to be a double wedding. Me and Marshall, you and Jamie!”

  Avril said nothing but looked away from Becky’s rapt gaze.

  “Avril I know how much Jamie adores you. I know he went over to England on purpose to propose. Did he?”

  Avril bit her lip and hesitated, then looked at her dear friend sadly. Should she break her long silence and tell her the truth? It seemed the only thing to do.

  “Please tell me, Avril, why you won’t give Jamie an answer. Don’t you love him?”

  “It’s not that. I mean … I can’t marry Jamie.”

  “Why can’t you? I don’t understand.”

  “It’s a secret, Becky. I’m not supposed to tell anyone, but—,” she paused. “I think you ought to know. I owe that to you. But you have to promise not to tell anyone else. Not now. Not ever.”

  Wide-eyed, Becky crossed her heart. “I promise!” she said.

  “I can’t marry Jamie, Becky, because—because I’m already married. Secretly married.”

  At these words Becky grabbed one of the posts to steady herself and gasped,” Married! When? Who? Someone you met in Europe?”

  “No.” Avril shook her head solemnly. “It’s nothing like that, nothing romantic really.”

  “Not romantic? I think marriage is the most romantic thing in the world!”

  “For you and Marshall, maybe. Not for me. You see, it was a kind of legal arrangement made when I first came to Montclair. Before I ever went to the Academy.” And Avril explained about her “secret” wedding to Graham.

  ‘Then it is just binding until you’re twenty-one?”

  Avril nodded.

  Becky looked relieved. “Well, that’s only a few months from now. Then you’ll be free to marry whomever you choose!” She clapped her hands. “So there’s still a chance for Jamie!”

  Avril looked at her friend affectionately. She wished there were some way to soften the blow for Becky, but she knew she had gone this far and would have to tell her the whole truth.

  “Becky, I wish I could make you happy by saying that perhaps, in time, I could learn to love Jamie the way he wants me to, the way you want me to—but it’s Graham I love.”

  “But he’s old enough to be your father, Avril!”

  “It doesn’t matter. Not to me. If he doesn’t want our legal marriage to continue, if he insists on having it annulled, I don’t know what I’ll do. If I can’t have Graham, I don’t think I’ll ever marry anyone else.”

  “Oh, you say that now, Avril. But—”

  “I’ve loved Graham for years, Becky. I’ve just been waiting to grow up so I could tell him, so he could accept me as a woman, a wife.” She wiped away a tear that had crept into her eyes. ‘That’s just the way it is.”

  Becky’s generous heart ached for her friend and she put her arms around Avril and wept with her. But even through her tears Becky felt a little guilty about her own happiness. Her own dreams of love were being fulfilled with Marshall, while Avril’s for Graham were quite hopeless—as hopeless as Becky’s dream that Avril would one day marry Jamison and be her sister.

  Graham managed to slip into a back pew of the Pleasant Valley Community Church just before the bridal party entered. He had waited until the last possible moment, fighting his own reluctance to expose himself t
o what he knew would be a disturbing emotional experience.

  The moment he saw Avril take the bouquet Becky handed her to hold during the exchange of vows and turn to face the congregation with the bridesmaids and groomsmen in a semicircle flanking the couple, Graham knew his apprehensions had not been ill-conceived.

  Never had Graham seen Avril look so beautiful. Hyacinth blue, the color of her gown, complemented her lovely coloring. A halolike headdress of twisted blue tulle intertwined with forget-me-nots crowned her glorious auburn hair.

  As the minister began the ceremony suddenly everything else began to recede. Only Avril’s face remained clear, her eyes finding and holding his so that he could not look away. It was as if they were the only two in the church and the words that were being spoken were for them alone.

  The readings were from both the Old and the New Testament and these merged in Graham’s ears as a special psalm of love and commitment—for his sole benefit to hear and heed.

  “And it shall be from that day, saith the Lord, that you will call me ‘My husband’ … In that day I will make a covenant … I will betroth thee to me forever, Yes, I will betroth thee to me … in lovingkindness … in faithfulness.”

  As he heard the marriage vows, Graham realized now that he had been so young at his first marriage, so dazzled by his unexpected luck in winning the equally youthful bride that the solemn beauty of the ceremony had skimmed over him. His marriage had been too tragically brief for those promises ever to be tested. He knew now that to undertake such vows again, he would know full well their sacred intent and purpose.

  His knuckles were white as he gripped the railing of the pew in front of him, still unable to pull his eyes from the grip with which Avril’s gaze held him.

  He felt himself grow warmer; his collar and cravat felt too tight; his knees trembled. He hoped no one else noticed his discomfort. He was as one paralyzed. Was it his imagination? Or could Avril’s unwavering gaze mean what her eyes seemed to be saying? Was it possible that Avril was reminding him of the similar bond they had contracted in that secret legal ceremony nearly eight years ago?