by Sara Orwig
Her heart seemed to blossom and open, wanting love more than anything. She stared into space, seeing only Edwin, wondering how he truly felt about her. Her pleasant reverie came to an end, however, when a cold realization hit her—her father would never approve! At the thought of her stern father, despair engulfed her. Even if he knew that she and Edwin loved each other beyond measure, her father would never consent to their union. He had informed her long ago that he would arrange her marriage to a suitable man, and she knew she had no choice in the matter. She shook her head, refusing to worry about marriage now. Edwin’s kiss was exciting.
“Edwin! My dear Edwin…” Smiling with happiness, she brushed her hair, looking in the glass at the black, hair she had inherited from her Spanish mother and the blue eyes from her English father. English and Spanish. It was an odd combination that she rarely thought about, knowing that her father had met her mother during his long-ago travels in Spain and persuaded her family to let him wed her and bring her to England. Josefina Anastacio had been married briefly before, though her husband had been killed a month after the wedding. If her marriage to Charles Melton had not been the second one, Josefina’s family wouldn’t have allowed her to wed an Englishman.
Lianna had learned about her parents from a servant, Doria, who had been in her mother’s employ, coming with her to England from Spain. Dimly she recalled the soft voice of her Spanish mother, who had died three years after Lianna’s birth. Now, thirteen years later, Lianna had only a blurred memory of warmth and love, of a lilting voice and soft hands, a recollection that had become so familiar through the years. Lianna wondered if it were a memory or a dream.
Humming as she brushed her hair, Lianna thought about how long her father had been away this trip. An aunt, the last Spanish relative in La Coruña, had died, and he had gone to settle the estate and claim his inheritance. Lianna looked out the upstairs window and saw the column of dust rising along the lane. Racing down the stars, she hurried outside. While she stood awaiting him, servants lined up inside the hall to greet the master upon his return.
Finally two dusty carriages lurched to a halt. The driver climbed down to hold open the door, and her father stepped out, pushing a tall beaver hat down on his balding head. His blue eyes swept over Lianna as he strode up the stone stairs, his features stern above a full, bushy brown beard.
“Papa!” She ran forward to meet him, stopping abruptly when she heard his harsh tone.
“Lianna, you forgot to curtsy.”
“Oh, Papa, I’m so glad—” She said as she curtsied, her words ending abruptly as he interrupted her.
“I’ve had a weary journey. We’ll talk later.” He stepped into the house without a smile.
Hurting inside, telling herself she shouldn’t have expected anything different, Lianna felt a lump in her throat, but in the long months of his absence, in the empty house with only servants for companions, she had imagined a different homecoming. Hot tears stung her eyes and she chided herself for hoping he would be different this time. She glanced at the unfamiliar servants standing beside the second carriage. One was a girl Lianna guessed to be near her own age. Wide brown eyes stared briefly and midnight hair fell in a cloud across her shoulders. She nodded, smiling, and Lianna smiled in return, then turned to go inside.
In the wide front hall, her father took off his hat and cape. Lianna stared at him—hungry for companionship, news about his travels to Spain, and, most of all, his love.
He nodded to the servants, pausing in front of Hastings, the majordomo. “In addition to two horses, one of which is for my daughter, I have brought three new servants from Spain. See to their quarters and duties.”
“Yes, sir.”
Lianna felt stunned, listening to the words “one for my daughter.” He did care! In spite of his inability to communicate with her, he had brought her a gift! She wiped her eyes hastily and hurried to the bottom of the stairs. “Papa! Which horse is mine?”
“The black gelding.”
“Thank you! Oh, thank you!”
He turned away to climb the stairs, and she smiled broadly, rushing outside to see her horse. Within the hour she had it saddled, prancing in a circle before Edwin in the riding ring beside the stable. As the horse trotted and kicked up puffs of dust, Edwin stood in the center, hands on his hips.
“Papa brought me this horse from La Coruña, so I shall name him Coruña!”
“’Tis good you dropped the ‘La.’ And ’tis a ridiculous name for a horse!” Edwin said gruffly.
“Aren’t you the grouch suddenly! Are you jealous of my gift, Edwin?” she teased, sure that this was an impossibility.
“No!” Startling her, he turned away abruptly, and she thought she might have hurt his feelings. She dismounted swiftly, leading the horse to where Edwin had stopped beside the high wooden fence.
“Edwin, I was teasing. It never occurred to me that it might be true—you can ride every horse in the stable.”
“I’m not jealous of your damned horse!” he snapped, clenching his fists and turning to face her.
“What is it?” she asked, shocked at the unbridled anger in his eyes.
“I’m jealous of the man who will someday seek your hand in marriage, of the man who will someday court you and kiss you!” His words poured out in a violent stream.
The world spun with his answer, and she reached out to grip the fence, clinging to it as her heart thudded. “You love me, Edwin?” she whispered, rendered dizzy by his answer.
His blue eyes were possessed, and his voice harsh as he said, “You are everything in the world I want—I dream about you.”
Shocked beyond words to hear him declare his feelings and speak so frankly, she was stunned. Edwin loved her. For the first time since the death of her mother, she felt as if someone cared about her existence. “I love you as well!” she gasped excitedly.
He groaned and kicked the dirt with the toe of his boot. “You say that to me and make me want to pull you into my arms, and I can’t do a thing! I can’t touch you. I shouldn’t say to you what I feel. You mustn’t say you love me. You have no idea what it means. Damn!”
“Oh, Edwin!” She placed her hand on his arm lightly, thinking this was the happiest day of her life. Love. After all the lonely years, the empty days of solitude, now she had found love with a man she had known since childhood. “There must be some way.”
He gave a cynical laugh that she couldn’t comprehend. “You’re a child, Lianna. A lovely child.”
His words stung because she thought of herself as an adult. “That’s unkind! I’ll be seventeen and out of the schoolroom at the end of the year.”
“You’re too young to know what your heart wants. You’re too young to make your own choices, and if your father learns what I’ve said to you, I’ll lose my job here and, most likely, my father will lose his as well.”
“I won’t breathe a word.”
“Oh, damn,” he said in a quiet voice filled with frustration.
“Edwin!” his father called from the east stable door, and Edwin’s head snapped up. “If Miss Melton is finished riding, unsaddle her horse.”
“Yes, sir,” Edwin called.
“I must change for dinner,” Lianna said. Her cheeks became hot, and she was aware of Edwin in a manner she had never been previously. “Will you ride with me in the morning?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Don’t frown, please.” She smiled at him, her heart beating faster. “This is a wonderful day. You’ve said you love me, and Papa has brought me a beautiful horse from Spain.” She gazed up at Edwin shyly and said, “In the morning we’ll race, and I’ll beat you, Edwin.”
His frown vanished, and his gray eyes darkened. “This time we’ll wager,” he added in husky tones that made her warm. She remembered his kiss, and heat flooded her cheeks. In embarrassment she turned away, hurrying toward the house with her thoughts in a turmoil.
Her father was a hard man and he would hate for Edwin to touch her.
She burned with embarrassment, remembering Edwin’s kiss, thinking of his words. Edwin loved her! He truly loved her. Smiling, she walked faster. The beautiful black horse must mean her father loved her also, in spite of his cold ways.
Trying to please her father, she wore her best blue silk dress to dinner. “I named the horse Coruña.”
“He came from Madrid.”
“Oh, I supposed you had brought him from La Coruña, where Aunt Maria lived. He’s beautiful, and I intend to ride first thing in the morning.”
“The Spanish estate has been settled, and as the only surviving heir of your mother, we have received a sizable sum of money in addition to the Spanish house. I found two outlets for our woolens in Spain—which should be highly profitable because our ships won’t have to sail all the way to the New World. At sea, English ships prey on Spanish ships, and Spanish ships on English occasionally. In Spain, however, there is peace, and due to our family ties, and my travels there, I’m able to deal with the Spaniards. And deal I will.”
“Melissa Hardeston will be eighteen soon, and her father is giving—”
“Lianna, don’t tire me with a discourse about each and every schoolgirl in the county. I am weary and have had a long day.”
“Yes, sir.”
Gradually she realized little had changed, and as they ate in painful silence, she gave up mentioning any topic at all, knowing quiet would please him the most. Mercifully, the meal was soon over, and she expected to be dismissed for the night. Instead, he turned to her. “Lianna, we must talk. Come to the library.”
Surprised, she moved ahead of him, crossing the hall to the library, where he closed the doors and motioned toward a chair.
“Won’t you sit down? I had a good trip to Spain,” he said.
“The house was so empty when you were away,” she said, thinking how much she had longed for his return. He moved his chair closer to the rosewood writing desk and brought out a chest. Lianna knew it held gold. She had watched her father count his coins endless times. She thought occasionally that this activity was his only real pleasure in life.
“Look at these—you know each coin represents ten more I have in the bank. I’ve put twenty new ones in the chest today. There’ll soon be more. Someday this will all be yours, Lianna.”
“Yes, Papa.” She began to get a feeling of dread, wondering why he was talking to her about the future.
“I’ve worked hard to build this farm and to make my ships profitable. Now, with Wellington’s defeat of Boney in Spain and the Congress of Vienna meeting to restore the rightful rulers to their thrones, trade should improve. Particularly with Spain.”
“Yes, sir,” she answered perfunctorily, thinking of the numerous times he had told her how he had built up their fortunes both on the farm and in trade. While he talked about King Ferdinand, her attention drifted to the library books that she loved to read. The library was her favorite room in the house after her own, and she felt a warmth there that was absent elsewhere in the manor. Her attention shifted as his conversation moved to her.
“You are becoming a woman now. I wed your mother when she was eighteen.”
She nodded, suddenly feeling a sweep of hopeful expectation that perhaps he planned a party to introduce her into society. She leaned forward eagerly.
He shifted in his chair, slammed the lid on the chest, and turned the lock. “You’ve led a sheltered life, Lianna. You’ve grown up on the farm; you know nothing of the world. But you’ve had good teachers and you’ve learned the things a woman should learn.”
“And a few more besides,” she quipped lightheartedly. For the first time in years her father was giving her his attention after dinner, and he had brought her a gift today. She smiled as she said, “I can take Midnight over the jumps. I hope you’ll watch tomorrow. Maybe we could ride—”
“Jumps are unseemly,” he said sharply, then shrugged. “But if it gives you pleasure, it’s harmless enough.”
She felt stung, then slightly mollified by his last statement.
Her father leaned back in his chair, his blue eyes focusing on a point just above her head.
“Your grandfather built up this farm, and I inherited it. I’m not a farmer at heart and I turned to trade at an early age, but I’ve kept the farm growing and producing. None of the noblemen who are our neighbors acknowledge us.”
The bitter tone in his voice was familiar to Lianna. She had known for years her father was angry over his inability to mix with the titled men who owned surrounding land. “Papa, there are nice people who aren’t titled. My best friend, Melissa, and her parents the Hardestons—”
“Live in another county. You’ll be out of the schoolroom soon and old enough to wed. Yet you won’t be acceptable to the sons of the titled noblemen of the county.”
“Father, there are sons of men like yourself. Squire Landretson has a son, and Squire Cranston. Another county is not another country!”
“Counties don’t matter. You deserve a titled husband and you won’t find one in this county or any other English county. We have more wealth than the Earl of Pennington! Perhaps even as much as the Duke of Cathmoor, yet he won’t so much as nod when he passes.”
“I don’t care about titles,” she said softly, thinking of Edwin. “I want a man who loves me.”
“You’re young, and this love which you speak of is a girlish notion. Be that as it may, it is time you were wed. I have made arrangements for your marriage, and it is to a titled man.”
Stunned, she stared at him, uncertain whether or not she had heard correctly.
“Marry?” She couldn’t absorb what he had said, and her senses reeled.
“You’ll finish your studies by the end of this year. I’ve arranged a very good marriage, Lianna, very good! My heirs will be titled.”
“Papa, I can’t!” She thought of Edwin and it was on the tip of her tongue to blurt out that she loved another. “Who is this man I’m to wed?” she asked, her voice a desperate whisper.
“I’ve given a handsome dowry, including the house in Spain I inherited. In return, he’s given magnificent wedding gifts. Early next year you’re to sail for Spain and there you’ll marry the Count of Marcheno, a Spanish nobleman and a man of enormous wealth and power.”
Lianna couldn’t breathe or move. She felt as if her whole body had turned to ice, and the roaring in her ears drowned out her father’s words. Gasping for breath, she saw him frown and come toward her with a glass of water from a pitcher on a nearby table. He gave it to her and then turned away, looking beyond her as if his mind were very far away.
She sipped the water and set the glass down on a table, fearful that she might let it fall from her cold, stuff fingers. “I can’t marry a Spaniard. Papa, I’m in love with another, an Englishman.”
At her words he whirled around and strode to her quickly, hovering imposingly over her. “You are what?” he snapped, the words pelting her in a tone she was unaccustomed to hearing. His face paled and he scowled fiercely at her.
“I love another,” she said with fear, having never seen her father’s wrath vented on her.
“For Lord’s sake, who?”
She remembered Edwin’s words that he might lose his job if her father learned of his love. “He doesn’t know that I love him,” she said, for the first time untruthful in her dealings with her father.
Her father let out his breath and straightened his shoulders. “Who is this man you love?” he said in calmer tones.
Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. “Edwin Stafford.”
“My stableboy?” he asked incredulously.
“We’ve known each other since we were children, Papa. Edwin is kind and good, and I know him.”
He rubbed his hands together as he said, “You’re a child, Lianna. I’ve sheltered you from the world, and you’re shut away here. Stableboys are the only men near your age whom you come in contact with. I suppose it’s only natural you would be taken with a familiar face, but that is childish nonse
nse, absolute foolishness! I’ve no doubt that if Edwin knew, he would be embarrassed beyond belief. He knows I would never allow you to wed a stablehand—I promise you that. You are only sixteen. I could have him imprisoned were he even to touch you. You know that, don’t you?”
“Papa, I want to marry for love.”
“Love would be brief with a stablehand!”
“But you’ve always said I’ll inherit.”
“That you will, but no stableboy will inherit a farthing of mine. Don’t try to persuade the young man to run away with you. He is two years older than you and should have more sense, but he’s led almost as sheltered a life as you. You’re two babes—he is still a boy. Understand fully, Lianna, you’ll not inherit if you don’t obey my wishes.”
“Yes, sir,” she whispered.
“Enough of this prattle! The matter is settled and you are only feeling a young girl’s qualms, which are doubly strong because you have been so sheltered. Your life has been as cloistered as if you had lived in a convent.” His voice lightened and he walked away. “You’ll like Spain once you are there, and you’ll have a marriage better than any you could make in England.”
“I don’t care!” she cried out, for the first time in her life protesting her father’s demands. She couldn’t control the words that came pouring out in spite of his forbidding frown. “How can you do this? I don’t know the Spanish count! I could never live in Spain.”
“Lianna! That’s enough! I have your best interests at heart and someday you’ll thank me. The count sent the black gelding to you as a gift.”
She felt a tight constriction around her heart and saw the faint hope that her father cared for her dashed to pieces.
“I know the news of this marriage is a shock, but you must be aware that you are approaching marriageable age.”
Lianna barely heard his words. She saw that her father had made a good marriage—for his purse. He would be rid of a daughter who had been little more than a nuisance to him. She hurt badly as she gazed blankly at him. “How old is this man?”
Squire Melton pocketed something from the top of his desk and crossed the room to stand before her. “He’s forty-one, and has been wed twice. His first wife died in childbirth during their tenth year of marriage. She had never been able to bear him children. The second wife died in a riding accident five years later. He requires an heir. Hold out your hand.”