Fortune's Bride

by Jane Peart

  Avril waited for him to go on.

  “Mama is fluttering about like a nesting bird, but when I asked her what was going on, she just shook her head and said, ‘You’ll know soon enough!’ So I thought I’d ride over and see if I could pry something out of you.”

  “I think perhaps it is about my inheritance,” she explained. “Now that I’m twenty-one—”

  “Yes, I know all that!” he said impatiently. “You’re a wealthy young lady. I’ve known it for years. That’s why I’ve come now, before you do anything rash, before you are officially an heiress.”

  Logan paced the room restlessly. “I want you to know that I’ve loved you for years. And I don’t give a tinker’s dam for your fortune. We shall both have to marry someone and I don’t want you running off to North Carolina in case—” He stopped abruptly, looked at Avril sternly,—“in case you don’t get your storybook ending.”

  She looked at him aghast.

  “What I’m saying is that we two would get on well together. We’re friends and that’s important. I don’t think you really love Jamison. And if you married me, you could stay in Virginia and—” He grinned—“perhaps ‘live happily ever after’ “?

  Avril opened her mouth to speak, but Logan waved a hand. “There’s no need to give me an answer now. I just wanted you to know.”

  Almost as quickly as he had come, he left.

  Bless Logan, Avril thought as she watched him ride off in the direction of their childhood trail through the woods. This was just the sort of reckless, impulsive gesture she might have expected from him. Since Jamison was staying at Cameron Hall, Logan probably knew what their guest might be planning when he came to call this afternoon. That’s what had prompted Logan’s unexpected proposal—to head off any rash acceptance on her part. She smiled, fond tears misting her eyes.

  Knowing her heart’s desire lay elsewhere had not deterred him. His attempt to offer her this alternative was a noble one, but useless. She could never give a leftover love to someone as kind as Logan.

  Logan’s surprise visit and all that had passed between them lingered in Avril’s mind when Hector announced Jamison’s arrival.

  The minute Jamison stepped across the threshold, Avril felt her heart sink. All his hope was in his eyes, his smile, his entire happy demeanor. He handed her a beautiful bouquet of roses fresh from Auntie May’s garden.

  “How lovely. Thank you, Jamie,” Avril said, accepting the gift. Then capturing her free hand, he brought it to his lips and kissed it fervently.

  So there was to be no preliminary conversation, no easing into a more serious discussion, she thought with dismay. She could not prolong this hopeless situation. She must do it at once, and as gently as possible.

  “Oh, Avril, there is so much I want to say, I hardly know where to begin.” Jamison was speaking hurriedly, his heart in his eyes. “I believe you know my feelings. They could hardly be a secret. What you must know is that I have already spoken to your guardian, and he—”

  Avril drew her hand away. “I know, Jamie. He has told me, but my dear friend, I must refuse.”

  Now there was a gasp from Jamison. “But he gave me to understand—”

  “Then he misunderstood.”

  “I thought I had made my intentions very clear,” protested Jamison, looking puzzled.

  “Oh, yes, they were clear. I meant Graham misunderstood my feelings. Jamie, I care for you—but more like a brother—”

  She saw the hope fade from his eyes and her own heart wrenched painfully.

  “A brother!” He sounded crushed.

  “Yes, Jamie.” Avril rushed on. “Becky is my dearest friend. All your family is especially precious to me. And you—well, I feel great affection for you, Jamie, but not love—at least not the kind of love that leads to marriage.”

  “But, Avril, listen to me. I’ve heard that love does not always come right away but, in time, grows. And I love you so, Avril, enough for both of us. I can make you happy. I know it!”

  “Oh, dear Jamie, I wish it could be different. Truly I do. I know you think now that your love is enough for both of us, that I might learn to love you in the same way. But it could never happen. Perhaps I’m too much the romantic, but I believe that two people, joining their hearts and lives for always, must feel they can’t live apart before they try to live together.”

  “But, Avril, I’ve thought of nothing else for years and years—from the moment I met you, in fact. I’ve worked to become someone you could be proud of, could love. Now I can offer you all you deserve—”

  “Don’t, Jamie, please! I don’t deserve anything! Certainly not the kind of love you’re offering. What woman could live up to what you think of me? You’ve put me on a pedestal, Jamie, and I deserve that least of all!”

  His face revealed the depth of his disappointment. “Can’t you even try?” he asked bleakly.

  ‘Try what? Try how? Oh, Jamie, how can one try to love someone differently than one does?”

  “Is there someone else, then? Or would it be possible for me to continue to hope—that your feelings for me might change?”

  Avril hesitated. What good would it do to tell Jamie about Graham? Her future was too uncertain. Later, she would give Becky permission to tell Jamison about the “secret.” Now she must make her plans to leave if her own hopes were dashed.

  “Jamison, it isn’t you,” she said. “It’s me. You are a fine man, a loving, sensitive person. Any young lady would be proud to be your wife. I am proud that you cared enough to ask me. Someday you will find someone else who will appreciate and love you the way you should be loved.”

  When at last he left, Avril felt emotionally drained. She went outside onto the veranda and, leaning against one of the pillars, watched the azure sky darken into dusk.

  She drew a long, uneven sigh. Her heart ached for Jamison. She knew only too well what it was like to love someone in vain. She prayed Jamison would, in time, get over her. Perhaps, before the evening was over, she would be praying the same prayer for herself, she thought ironically.

  Just then she heard the sound of an approaching rider on horseback. She moved to the edge of the porch and saw Graham cantering up the driveway on Chief. At the sight of him, Avril felt the sweet, familiar pounding of her heart.

  One of the stable boys came running to take the reins of the horse as he dismounted. Avril moved out of the shadow of the column and came to the top of the steps. Graham seemed surprised to find her standing there.

  “Avril! I didn’t see you!”

  “Good evening, Graham,” she said quietly.

  Graham removed his wide-brimmed hat and smoothed back his hair in a characteristic gesture. “I passed young Buchanan on the road on his way back to Cameron Hall.” He squinted up at her. “I assume he got his answer.”

  Avril pressed her hands together against her breast, where she could feel the throbbing within. She moistened her lips nervously.

  “Yes, he got his answer.”

  A moment passed, then Graham leaned over a rosebush near the steps as if intent on examining it and with elaborate casualness said, “And—I assume—rode off happily?”

  Avril did not answer. Instead, she moved to the side of the porch where he was inspecting the roses. Her pulses raced, her chest hurt as she took a deep breath. The rest of her life depended upon the next few minutes.

  “Graham,” she began, “I’ve wanted to talk with you about my plans.”

  He nodded, still looking down.

  “I want to go to Natchez. I’d like to visit Mama’s and Papa’s graves, see the house again. I thought I’d take Dilly home. She’s getting older and would like to see her sisters.”

  Graham lifted his head to regard her with a frown. “You mean—go alone or after you and Jamison are married?” His voice was rough-edged.

  “I’m not going to marry Jamison, Graham. I sent him away. That’s what I wanted to tell you. I’ve been waiting to tell you—”

  “How long have
you been waiting?”

  His question struck her as almost laughable.

  “How long have I been waiting, Graham?” she repeated.

  With that, she moved slowly down the steps until she stood only one step above him. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she slid them down to his coat lapels and tugged gently. “You ask how long have I been waiting for you? I think I’ve been waiting for you most of my life.” Then, holding his head between her hands, she gazed into the face she had loved for so long and kissed him, slowly and sweetly.

  When the kiss ended, Graham, unable to speak for the tumult of emotions clamoring through him, put his arms around her and held her close to his thundering heart. All the love and longing he had felt intensifying over the last year and a half, but had held in check, now flooded over him.

  Her eyes traveled over his face, then searching deeply into his eyes, Avril said, “I need you to love me, Graham—not as a child, nor someone for whom you feel responsible, but as a woman. Tell me if I’m wrong, if what I see in your eyes isn’t real. Even if you deny it, I don’t think I can believe you! My heart tells me something else. If you don’t love me, cannot love me, tell me now and I’ll go away. But I must hear you say it.”

  “Oh, my dear, my very dear,” he whispered huskily.

  He felt the silken cascade of her hair fall about his shoulders as she leaned down again to kiss him. And it was no child’s kiss, but softly yielding and exciting.

  Afterwards Graham sighed. “I do love you. I have always loved you, but I’ve never dared say it.”

  Avril’s heart soared in glorious triumph. Honor and restraint had kept Graham from declaring himself, but now she knew what her heart had told her was true.

  His arms tightened around her and he began to kiss her, her temple, her cheeks, her eyes now closed in ecstasy, then finally her lips. His kiss was passionate but infinitely tender.

  “Beloved …” he murmured.

  Part VI

  The Waiting

  Fall 1816

  Delight thyself in the Lord, and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart.

  Psalm 37:4

  chapter

  28

  WHEN AVRIL awakened the next morning, she lay still for a few minutes, wondering if the events of the evening before had really happened or if she had dreamed them, after all.

  Had Graham really said those words she had waited to hear? Or was his declaration of love some fantasy her own longing had created? Avril drew in a deep breath. Slowly the scene on the moonlit veranda became reality and her heart lifted with joy.

  She threw back the covers and bounded out of bed. Anxious to get downstairs and see Graham before he set out on his rounds, Avril made quick work of bathing, then brushed her hair, tying it back with a ribbon. When she found herself lingering indecisively before the contents of her armoire, she impatiently pulled out a simple blue cotton chambray. Still buttoning the bodice, she ran out into the hall and flew down the stairs and into the dining room where she found Graham already at breakfast.

  A sudden shyness swept over her when he looked up and saw her standing on the threshold. One look assured her it had been no dream. It was true! Graham’s eyes spoke everything she had ever hoped to see in them.

  She slid into her usual place beside him, then leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “Good morning, darling Graham!” She smiled. “Isn’t it a glorious morning? The most beautiful of my entire life!”

  Graham smiled at her indulgently, reached over, and patted her hand. “Beautiful indeed. But we have some serious matters to discuss.”

  “Serious! But, Graham, how can you possibly expect me to be serious when I am so deliciously happy?” she asked, spooning sugar onto the sliced peaches in the cut-glass bowl on her plate. “And how can you look so solemn? Or do you already regret saying what you said last night?” A tiny furrow marred the smooth forehead for an instant.

  “Hardly that, dearest girl. I never meant anything more. But there are some things we must settle about the future.” He tapped a pile of papers beside his plate. “Some legal matters—”

  Avril interrupted him with a groan. “Oh, no, Graham! Do we have to? Surely, not today!”

  “We must, Avril. Our getting married depends upon it—” “Getting married? I thought we were already married, Graham.” Avril looked puzzled.

  “On paper, Avril. But there is much more to be settled before we can actually live together as man and wife. Let me explain.” With that, Graham launched into a complicated exposition of the legal arrangement they had entered into to protect her property and inheritance when Avril was a child. The binding effect of Graham’s guardianship had ended on her twenty-first birthday, automatically annulling their “secret marriage” contract. They must now proceed not only with a legal annulment but with the premarital requirements necessary for marriage in the Anglican church.

  Avril felt as if a cloud had eclipsed the sunlight of the lovely morning. “So, Graham, how long will all this take?”

  “I will begin procedures at once, of course, but these things always take longer than one hopes.” He cast her a wary glance, then brightened. “But you will need time to make plans for the wedding … and May Cameron will want to be involved—”

  “Graham!” exclaimed Avril, flinging down her napkin. “What kind of a wedding? If Auntie May has her way, you know what that will mean! She’ll want all sorts of fancy arrangements and … goodness knows what else! Can’t we just go quietly into Williamsburg and have Reverend Price marry us when all this legal tangle is straightened out?”

  Graham shook his head firmly. “No, Avril, we cannot. Besides, you must leave Montclair as soon as our intentions are known.”

  Avril gasped. “Leave Montclair?” Her words sounded hollow and dull as if she were speaking them into a cavernous vault. Leave, after everything they had experienced together—after the long years of separation—after a lifetime of waiting? “Leave, Graham?” she repeated. “Why should I leave now?“

  Graham’s tanned face reddened slightly. “Come, Avril-all-grown-up! Were your tutors at Faith Academy so remiss that they failed to instill in you the proprieties? Our situation has changed completely. There’s a formal engagement period to be observed. It would not be proper for an engaged couple to remain under the same roof, unchaperoned.”

  “But where would I go? I don’t want to stay with Auntie May at the Camerons, Graham, dearly as I love her—”

  “I suggest you go to Great-Aunt Laura’s. She’d love to have you and you’d be a great help to her. In that way we would be living far enough apart to satisfy protocol. Not even the whisper of gossip should touch us, Avril. Our announcement will provide quite enough talk as it is. No, I want everything done strictly according to social decorum.”

  Avril could not resist a pout. “Oh, fie on society!” she said. “I think all those rules and regulations are stupid! But I suppose I must agree to it … that is, if the waiting is only a matter of weeks—” “I’m afraid, my dear, that it will be more a matter of months.” Avril pushed back her chair and stood to her feet.” Months? Graham, I can’t believe you would be willing to wait months for us to be married!” She crossed her arms and faced him furiously.

  To her amazement Graham threw back his head and laughed. “You remind me of the stubborn little redhead who didn’t want to be sent away to school.”

  “And now you’re sending me away again!” she retorted. “If you loved me, you’d be eager to—”

  “I am eager to marry you, Avril. I have just learned that there are some things in life worth waiting for, being patient about—”

  “I have been patient! For years and years! I’ve waited all this time for you to love me, and now you want me to wait even longer?” Avril flounced over to the French windows overlooking the garden and stood rigidly, her back to Graham.

  He walked up behind her, putting his arms around her waist and leaning his cheek against hers. “Youth is so impetuous, so impatient,” h
e said softly.

  Avril pulled away from him and whirled about, hands on hips, her eyes flashing green fire. “Don’t do it, Graham!”

  “Don’t do what?” he asked, surprised.

  “Don’t patronize me.”

  “I didn’t intend to insult you, Avril.”

  “I don’t like having everything arranged for me. I don’t like being told what I must do. I’m twenty-one, Graham! I want to be treated like an adult. Have some say in the decisions about my own wedding … since it appears there must be a wedding.”

  “And so you shall, my darling,” Graham assured her. Pausing, he continued more deliberately. “I suppose we could be utterly selfish, go into Williamsburg, as you mentioned, be married quietly, exclude everyone who loves and cares about us and would like to share our happiness. Is that what you really want?”

  Avril gave a long sigh of resignation. “I didn’t mean to be unkind,” she said at length. “I suppose we shall have to have some kind of wedding … invite guests … yes, I would like Becky to be here … and, of course, Great-Aunt Laura and—” She stopped and eyed Graham warily. “You do have a way of having the last word, don’t you?” she challenged.

  “That’s my dear, sensible girl.” He held out his arms and she went into them.

  “You know I’m not just trying to be difficult, don’t you, Graham?” She sighed. “It’s just once Auntie May takes over, she’s sure to want all sorts of folderol and—”

  “Darling, nothing would make me happier than to have you all to myself and dispense with all the folderol, as you call it. On the other hand, I think you deserve a beautiful wedding to remember the rest of our lives.”

  “I guess I’m just disappointed. I really thought you would want to be married as soon as possible too. If you loved me as much as you say you do, as much as I love you—”

  Graham’s finger touched her lips, stopping her words.

  “Now, you are being childish, Avril.” He looked out the window over her head and said, “I love you more than I can say … I didn’t think I had to convince you of that. But I don’t want us to do anything rash that would set any more tongues wagging than the fact of our getting married at all surely will. We are not going to marry in undue haste.” He paused before saying gravely, “Perhaps, Avril, you need time to reflect on whether this is what you want to do with the rest of your life. There is the matter of our ages, which may often cause us to respond differently to every situation, as we have just now—” There was another long pause. “If that seems a problem … may be it is well we face it now.”