Foolish Bride

by A. S. Fenichel

  Elinor brushed away a tear as the lovers kissed under a shimmering canopy. A great “hooray” went up from the crowd on the stage.

  The orchestra played light strings, and a single flute trilled throughout the wedding.

  As a sinister figure took the stage, the music changed to an oboe and clarinet, and the piano played in a flat key, darkening the mood. The man was older and the baron of the nearby lands. His anger at being thwarted by the girl was evident. He lamented over how her entire family had disrespected him and that they would pay. He sneered at the groom, who only smiled in victory.

  Once he left the stage, the wedding party continued, and Elinor let out the breath she’d held.

  In the next scene, the baron paid a wizard handsomely to kill the groom before the wedding night.

  Elinor leaned forward, her knuckles white against the balustrade. It was not at all ladylike to show so much emotion, but she couldn’t help it.

  The lights came halfway up on the stage, revealing the bedroom of a small home.

  The audience gasped at the audacity of the playwright to show a bed on stage.

  There would be a scandal. Elinor had to sit on her hands to keep from clapping.

  The wizard appeared in the doorway, and seeing the beauty of the lovers, couldn’t kill the groom. Instead, he transformed the young man into a horse.

  Trapped in the small house, the horse went mad and chased the wizard away. The bride collapsed in tears on the floor, and seeing her distress, the horse calmed and put his large head on her shoulder.

  Married but still a maiden, she insisted on remaining with her husband regardless of his form. Together, they rode all over the country in hopes of finding the wizard who cursed them and forcing him to reverse the deed.

  Tears rolled freely down Elinor’s cheeks. From over her shoulder, Daniel handed her a handkerchief. She assumed Marlton would sleep through the play, but he was riveted on the strange theatrical.

  The maiden and the horse walked off the stage crying out for the wizard as the lights went down, and the theatre was one again illuminated.

  Sophia and Dory used the intermission to freshen up, but Elinor remained. She didn’t want to risk bumping into Michael. She laughed at herself. The entire point of coming to the theatre had been to see him, but now she wished she had stayed at home. She really needed to spend some time thinking about what it was she really wanted.

  Male laughter and voices filtered from outside the box before Michael stepped through the curtain. Dressed in all black, save for the crisp white of his cravat, he had not one hair out of place. He watched her, but said nothing.

  In the entrance, Thomas Wheel laughed and talked with Marlton.

  She stood and curtsied.

  Bowing, he took a long breath, then shuffled his feet. “I see you are well, Lady Elinor.”

  “Tolerably so, thank you.”

  “How is your mother?” he asked.

  “She is lamenting my father’s departure tomorrow for the continent, but otherwise she is well, thank you. Is your family well?” The more she thought of her father leaving, the better she liked the idea.

  His eyes lit up. “Mother is in the country and the boys are at school. They are all thriving. I am looking forward to school break, when Everett and Sheldon will come home and I can spend some time with them.”

  “Good.” Not a single clever remark came to mind. She looked to the other gentlemen for help, but they were engrossed in their conversation.

  She sighed. “I can think of nothing more to say.”

  Studying her, he tipped his head. “We could comment on the weather.”

  Oh lord, the entire evening was a disaster. “I suppose that is an option. I could giggle and simper and you could tell me how lovely I am.”

  He frowned. “I meant all the things I ever said to you, Elinor. I was not merely wooing you. You are lovely and…”

  She turned away. The crowd below milled about, and many watched them. “I know you did, Michael. I apologize. That was unkind of me. I do not wish to be bitter or unpleasant, but it is not easy to meet you in social circumstance.”

  He took a step closer, keeping enough distance for propriety’s sake, and lowered his voice. It was intimate. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Elinor. You have done nothing to deserve what I have put you through. I shall never forgive myself for taking that last assignment, so why should you? I regret that my presence gives you discomfort. I will attempt to stay out of your way, though our common friends make that difficult.” He left the box.

  When Dory and Sophia returned, they questioned her about the meeting, but she kept the content of the conversation to herself. Her answer was so short that neither inquired further.

  The lights in the theatre dimmed. In the box Michael and Thomas shared, Michael sat forlornly staring at her.

  Why couldn’t she be nice? A pleasant conversation with the man she loved was all that had been required of her. She silently berated herself until the lights on the stage came up, and she could lose herself in the performance.

  The maiden and the horse traveled the countryside for months. Both were worn and weary when her family found them and forced the girl to go home. She tried to explain that the horse was her love and begged to be allowed to stay with him. However, her angry father did not believe her and dragged her back home.

  Her father assumed the young husband was dead and arranged a wedding between his daughter and the baron.

  Thrilled because he got everything he wanted, the baron paid for an enormous wedding celebration, far fancier than the one the maiden had before.

  The ceremony began with the maiden crying. The further the priest got into the ceremony, the louder the girl cried.

  Hearing her wailing, the horse burst into the wedding and reared. He trampled the baron. The crowd attacked the mad horse, stabbing him repeatedly with swords and knives.

  All the while, the maiden screamed in protest and tried to help her love. But all was lost as the horse crumbled onto the stage. She rushed to him and dragged the horse’s head off, revealing her husband within. Declaring his love for her with his last breath, he died in her arms.

  The maiden held him, vowing to never marry another.

  * * * *

  Michael waited in the atrium to get one more glimpse of Elinor before the night was over.

  Sophia and Daniel rushed her out of the theatre and into the carriage. Tears ran down her face.

  Wishing he could comfort her, his gut clenched.

  Many of the women shed tears over the silly play. He hadn’t even wanted to attend the performance. Now he was torn between being happy that Elinor had been there and distraught over the effect his presence had on her. He did not believe such an insipid theatrical could have caused her so much distress. He had upset her, and a wave of guilt washed over him.

  “What did you think of the play?” Thomas stood next to him, avoiding the crush of humanity trying to escape the theatre.

  “Terrible, of course.” If he rushed for the door, he could be in his carriage and to her family townhouse in less than an hour.

  “Indeed. I believe I could do with a drink after that torture. Shall we go to the club?”

  It was better to leave her alone. She deserved a new life that didn’t include him. She should find someone who would make her happy.

  The ride to the club filled his head with a series of questions. What if he hadn’t taken that last assignment? What if he had fought her father on the dissolution of their engagement? What if he had been kind to her when she risked everything to come to him on their thwarted wedding day? So many questions and all impossible to answer, because he had chased her away at every turn.

  Once inside White’s Gentlemen’s club, Thomas ordered brandies and found a quiet corner where they could enjoy them in peace.

  It wasn’t to be.

  A man whom Michael had never seen before approached them. The drun
k and furious red-faced man stumbled to a stop and pointed a bony finger at Michael. “You are a pretender.”

  Michael had been in battles where men dropped at his feet. He’d seen men’s limbs cleaved off. As a spy for the crown, he’d borne terrible atrocities. This man was no threat, but he gave him a thorough and leisurely looking over.

  The man listed to one side before straightening. He was perhaps five feet eight or nine with thin red hair. Probably in his early thirties, but looked older because he was at least two stones overweight. His sparse hair was uncombed, his face freckled and his eyes ringed red. The jowls under his chin warbled, and he huffed and puffed in place.

  “Who are you?” Michael asked.

  Washed-out blue eyes bugged out their sockets and sweat trickled from his temple in spite of the fact that the temperature in the club was quite comfortable. “Who am I?”

  Michael raised his eyebrow and waited for an answer.

  He puffed up like a pigeon in the park. “I am Carter Roxton. I am the rightful heir to the Kerburghe Dukedom.”

  Now it fell into place for Michael. “Did you petition the crown?”

  The man advanced a step and wobbled drunkenly. His face turned almost purple. “Do you think me a dunce? Of course I did. Months ago I went to the prince and explained my close relation to the past duke.”

  “And what was that relationship exactly?” Thomas grinned and sipped his drink.

  It really wasn’t funny.

  “The Duke of Kerburghe was my father’s brother’s wife’s cousin’s uncle.” There was a practiced cadence to his announcement.

  Barely managing to contain his mirth, Thomas slapped his knee.

  “I see,” Michael said. “And the crown denied your claim?”

  “I have appealed.” Mr. Roxton stomped his foot and clung to the chair.

  There was humor in the situation, though it was more like a bad farce. This man was rather ridiculous, but he was also drunk, so he took pity on the poor sod. “Your uncle’s wife’s cousin’s uncle, you say.”

  Thomas burst into laughter.

  Roxton turned his head sharply toward the laughter. The effort sent him off balance, and he toppled to the floor in an unceremonious heap.

  Thomas’s hysteria was not helping the awkward situation.

  Michael sighed, put down his brandy glass, lifted the unconscious Roxton from the floor, and put him into a large chair. Giving Thomas an annoyed look, he once again took his seat and picked up his brandy.

  The three men sat quietly. Thomas and Michael enjoyed their brandies and ordered more while Roxton was comfortably insensible throughout.

  Roxton opened his eyes and shouted, “Pretender!” It took him a moment to gain focus on the two gentlemen sitting with him.

  “Welcome back,” Thomas said.

  “I have petitioned the crown.” His words slurred into one long one.

  Michael placed his empty glass on the table and stood. “Then we shall see if your appeal stands up, Roxton. Good evening.”

  Thomas stood as well. “A pleasure to have met you, Roxton. Do stop by again.” Then he followed the Duke of Kerburghe from the club.

  Chapter 9

  At her writing desk, Elinor listed all Michael’s attributes and all of his failings. She included reasons she should not consider Dory’s quest to reunite them and also her own feelings for her ex-fiancé. She wrote how angry she was when he was near and how sad after he walked away.

  “Darling, do you think the yellow or the blue for Castlereagh’s ball?” Virginia stood in the doorway with a small writing book similar to Elinor’s. Holding it in front of her face, she did not even look at her daughter.

  Elinor closed her book of lists. “Has Father left already?”

  Waving a hand, Virginia sighed. “Before dawn. I said my goodbyes last night. I will never understand why these trips he makes must always begin at such inconvenient times. It is not at all gentlemanly to rise so early.”

  Elinor gave a small smile. “I believe it lends to the mystery and import of the trip.”

  “I suppose.” A tear spilled down Virginia’s cheek. “What are you doing, dear?”

  Elinor kept the little book closed. “Making some lists.”

  “Excellent. I always say it is the best way to be certain you have not forgotten anything.”

  “I know, Mother.”

  “Is there anything I can help you with?”

  “No, thank you. I am just sorting through a few things.”

  Virginia smiled and patted her own book. “Then making lists is just the thing. I can never sort through anything without my lists.”

  “The blue would be lovely,” Elinor said.

  Virginia examined her own list with narrowed eyes. “Yes, the blue would be perfect. Thank you, dear.” She swirled out of the room.

  Relieved her mother hadn’t asked further questions about her list-making, Elinor sighed. They both had an obsession with lists. Many people would think it silly to make so many lists about so many things, but the lists always put her frantic mind in order and gave her focus. Most days her lists were about what she needed to accomplish or buy. Then she might make a list of requests from the household staff or trimmings for her next gown. She almost always had a list of people she needed to call on.

  Elinor returned to her book. There wasn’t enough on either the positive side or the negative side to make a decision.

  How she wished she could consult Mother about the whole messy subject. She couldn’t, however. Virginia was enamored with Middleton, and nothing would sway her. She told all of her friends that her daughter was to be the next Duchess of Middleton.

  Elinor rubbed her temple and tore the list out of the book. She put it next to her other list detailing Middleton’s attributes and failings. She picked up the Middleton list. Most of her comments had been favorable. He was smart, kind, and exceedingly rich. He obviously did not like that she was pining for Michael, but he had been patient thus far. He was handsome and elegant, and she liked him. Mother was thrilled with him, and Elinor liked to make her parents happy. In fact, she only had one negative comment.

  I do not love Middleton, and I never will.

  She put both lists together and tucked them away inside her desk.

  “I am not ready to make a decision. I need to see Michael and talk to him without losing my temper, and I must spend more time getting to know Middleton.” No one was there to argue, so she opened a new page and wrote those two objectives down before placing it with the other two.

  Throughout the day, she would return to her room and pull out the three lists. She added to them and scratched notes in the corners.

  She was to go to the park the next day with Dory and Sophia. Somehow, Sophia had knowledge of Michael being there. Her stomach fluttered. She took a deep breath. It was what she needed, more time with both men.

  * * * *

  Summer hadn’t been particularly hot, but it had been quite rainy. A sunny day was unusual and brought most of London to the park.

  Michael scrutinized every vehicle, afraid with all the additional carriages he might miss seeing hers. It was undignified, but he waited behind a grouping of trees anyway.

  “Are you looking for me, or do you just enjoy watching the carriages, Michael?” Elinor asked.

  He was so shocked he might have lost his mind. It couldn’t be her, but he turned and there she was a few feet away. He must have fallen from his horse, hit his head, and started dreaming.

  Her pale green dress swayed in the breeze, and the sun behind her cast her in a gold glow. He held his breath, expecting her to disappear at any moment.

  Thomas stood with Sophia and Dorothea Flammel. The trio pretended not to watch them.

  Not a dream.

  “Will you stand silent, then?” She fussed with the cord of her reticule.

  “In all honesty, I thought you a vision, and if I moved, you might disappear.”
r />   She blushed and trailed her hand along the bushes. “I am no dream, Michael.”

  There was nothing more stunning than Elinor when embarrassed, except maybe her glorious anger. He rather liked her passionate as well. “What are you doing here? Where is your mother?”

  Shifting her weight, she continued to torture the fabric of her little bag. “Mother is home. I came to see you.”

  “Why?” He should just say something nice.

  Huffing, she shook her head. “Honestly, I am not sure. I wanted to see you, to speak to you, but now that I am here, I have no idea what to say.”

  “I see.” The awkwardness between them was his fault. He could blame no one else.

  “I made a list,” she said.

  At least one thing hadn’t changed about his sweet girl. “You and your lists, Elinor.”

  She frowned, plucked a leaf, and crushed it in her gloved hand. “I know you think them silly, but they help me figure things out.”

  “Not silly, adorable.” He stepped closer, her flowery scent bringing back a hundred memories of holding her close.

  She dipped her head shyly.

  “What was on the list?”

  “Nothing, really. I listed all the reasons I should stay away from you, and all the reasons I should not.”

  It was an odd place to have a rather personal conversation. Their friends stood several yards off, pretending to watch the ducks in the pond.

  Michael stepped closer, and Elinor was inches away. If he reached out, he could touch her cheek, then push back the errant curl that tickled her neck. He longed to touch her, but held back. “What were the reasons why you would not wish to see me?”

  Her gaze captured his. “I do not think I should tell you.”

  It would be so easy to get lost in the depth of her blue eyes. “Why not?”

  “You will be angry with me. I do not wish to make a scene here in the park,” she said.

  “What if I were to promise not to lose my temper?” He loved the way tendrils of her hair escaped and flew in the breeze.