Regency Romance: Fallen Duchess (A Historical Victorian Murder Mystery Love Regency Romance)

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Regency Romance: Fallen Duchess (A Historical Victorian Murder Mystery Love Regency Romance) Page 21

by Tracey D Morgan


  “I think I still have it in my pocket here,” said Pastor Danforth, producing an envelope from his coat. He handed it to her, and then he and his wife bid the girls farewell.

  After they had walked away, Annette turned to Caroline, the look of disbelief still etched onto her face. “Are you really going to write to a stranger who is looking for a wife? You know that your father will have a fit if he finds out. Wait, is that why you’re doing it? Just to stir the pot?”

  Caroline shook her head. “I don’t know why I took the letter, but you know what? I’m going to answer it. And whatever happens, I’m going to leave it in God’s hands.”

  Chapter Two:

  The letter was sitting on the entry table when she got back from her afternoon visiting. A thrill shot through her chest when she realized that the envelope was addressed to her. As quickly as she could, she grabbed the letter and slipped it into the waistband of her skirt. She wasn’t sure if anyone else had seen it in the family, and she was sure that she didn’t want any of them to know what she was doing—not just yet—and especially not her father. He still wanted to marry her off to the highest bidder, whoever could do the most for his business interests.

  Glancing around to make sure that no one in her family was around still, Caroline walked toward the kitchen. Eleanor, the downstairs maid, and Edna, the cook, were sitting at the table chatting when Caroline swept in and headed straight for the cookie jar.

  “Now don’t you go spoiling your dinner,” Edna said in her thick Irish accent.

  Caroline grinned, feeling like a 10-year-old again, not her mature 18 years. “I could eat a dozen of your cookies but still want to eat every bite of your dinner,” she said.

  She grabbed another cookie before she headed toward the back stairs. Her father was forever telling her that only servants used the back stairs, but Caroline didn’t care. All she knew was that she needed to avoid exposure to her family at all costs at that moment in time. She knew that she was being slightly melodramatic, but she wanted to read this letter. If she was right about her gut feeling from the original letter, then this man, Elliot, might be her solution to the problem of being married off as an asset.

  Eagerly, Caroline dropped down onto her window seat and tore open the letter. The handwriting was faded, as if it had gotten wet on its journey, but she could still make out the small, cramped words.

  Dear Caroline,

  I was glad to hear from you. This feels mighty awkward, but I’ll do my best to tell you all about myself. I live on the prairie to the east of the Black Hills of South Dakota. Have you ever heard of the Black Hills or South Dakota? That’s a silly question, I suppose. You are obviously a well-educated young woman, but with South Dakota having just become a state last November, I wasn’t sure whether or not you would be familiar with this place.

  It’s beautiful here. That’s the only way I can explain this place I live. To the west you can see the mountains of the Black Hills, their slopes look place from the thick stands of pine that cover all the hillsides. That’s how they go their name, the Black Hills.

  My cabin is on the edge of a town called Rapid City. I work for the newspaper here, covering all manner of city business and affairs. You mentioned that your father is a banker there in Chicago. That must be a hard job. Mine is exciting, and I love writing stories that inform and delight people out here.

  I’m sure that Chicago is much different than anything you’ll find out here. Don’t let the name fool you. Rapid City is not a true city. Not yet anyway. Someday I expect that it will be a bustling urban center, but for now, it has the comforts and amenities of any good-sized town. Though things are still wild out here in many regards, where I live feels a lot like the other places I have lived in my life, though smaller and friendlier.

  I suppose I should tell you a bit more about myself than I did in that first letter. I grew up in St. Louis, the oldest of 10 brothers and sisters. My father owned a general store, and I grew up listening to talk of politics and gossip. When I was 16, my older brother decided to head West, and I went with him. We got all the way out to the Black Hills before we ran out of money.

  Martin decided that we needed to take out a gold claim. For almost a year we spent every day panning in the creek and sleeping in our little lean-to. The winter was by far the worst. After the first thaw, I moved down to Rapid City and started working for the newspaper.

  I decided to write to Pastor Danforth because, though the Black Hills are thriving, there still aren’t good Christian women here that are interested in getting married. This will seem forward, but I am going to ask if you have any interest in coming West as my wife. I expect that we will continue to write and get to know each other, but it seems like a good idea to get the looming question out of the way.

  The Lord has a plan for each of us, and I’m hopeful that our plans will coincide. Please respond at your earliest possible convenience.

  Regards,

  Elliot Reynolds

  Caroline reread the letter, committing it to memory. A stranger—well, nearly a stranger, she did know about some of his life—had just asked her to marry him. She understood that there was nothing more romantic about this proposal than what her father had in mind for her, but she also knew that she had control of this situation.

  She leaned back against the wall and gazed out her window. The buds on the trees had begun to unfurl last week, and now the green shoots were brilliant against the blue sky. From where she sat, she could just make out the lake in the distance. She had always thought that this place was pretty, but now she was curious about where Elliot lived.

  The letter crinkled in her hand, and she wondered what she should do, how she should answer Elliot. Whatever she decided, she knew that God had huge plans for her, and everything was going to change.

  Chapter Three:

  “I can’t believe that you actually went through with it,” Annette said, the awe in her voice evident. The girls were out for another walk along the lakeshore, and Caroline hadn’t been able to keep her news in any longer.

  Caroline slipped off the path to climb onto the big boulders that lined the lakefront. She loved the way the spray from the lake felt on her face. If she agreed to marry Elliot, she would miss this place. She would miss her daily walks with Annette, and she would miss the way Chicago seemed so stunning after a long, hard winter. She had no idea what the Black Hills would be like. The fear of the unknown was certainly a deterrent, she realized, but it wasn’t so large that she wasn’t still considering it.

  “Caroline, get away from there,” Annette scolded.

  Turning to look at her friend, Caroline threw her a teasing smile before she climbed down to a rock even closer to the splashing waves. “I had to write back to him,” she said. “I could feel the future pulling on me.”

  “I don’t understand you sometimes,” Annette said with a sigh. She shifted from one foot to the other, and Caroline laughed again. She knew that her friend was not quite so taken with the lakefront as she was, but she often tried to coax Annette to do just that.

  “What’s to understand?” Caroline asked as she sat down on one of the rocks. She began to unlace the ties on her boots. When she finished she set them on a higher rock and then she hitched her skirt up to her knees so she could dip her feet into the cold waves as they lapped against her legs. “I mean,” then looking over at her best friend with a sly smile, “he proposed.”

  “What? You don’t even know the man? And he already proposed?” Annette was clearly having trouble controlling the pitch of her voice because she began to get the shrill tone that indicated she was upset. “How is that any different than what your father wants you to do?”

  Caroline wrapped her arms around her knees and hugged them closer to her chest and stared out across the lake. Annette’s words, and the deep concern in her voice, made Caroline squirm. Those had been her own thoughts on the matter, yet there was something deeper she couldn’t quite explain.

  “It’s
not the same,” she said. “My father wants me to marry a man that he chooses for me so that his business interests can grow. At least with Elliot, I’m the one making the decision. Besides, it sounds like he lives a simple life. I think that’s what I want. And I can tell that he would be easy to fall in love with.”

  “Yeah, but maybe the man your father chooses for you would have the same characteristics,” Annette suggested.

  Caroline grabbed her boots and stood. She sighed. “You don’t understand,” she said, unable to keep the frustration out of her voice. “Anyone my father chooses for me is going to be exactly like him. The only thing that will matter is money and status. I just … I just can’t live like that anymore. I need something more. Don’t you ever sit in church and think that there’s more that God wants for you in your life?”

  “Not really,” Annette said. “My life is exactly the way I want it.”

  The irritation she felt with her best friend surprised her because a few months ago Caroline had felt the same way about the life, right up until the moment her parents had started talking about marrying her off. She hadn’t realized it in the beginning, but it was at that moment that she had started looking for a way to get out of the life she was currently living and into another one, a simpler one. Elliot provided her with that outlet.

  Caroline glanced at Annette and then climbed back up onto the pathway. The dirt felt gritty under her toes, but she didn’t care. She didn’t bother to put her shoes back on as they started walking again. Annette gave her a look of pure horror but said nothing.

  “Your life might be exactly how you want it, but mine is not,” Caroline said. “That’s why I wrote to Elliot. If I accept his proposal, it isn’t like I’m just going to jump on the next train to go marry him. We’ll spend an appropriate amount of time getting to know each other.”

  “Aren’t you scared, though?” Annette asked.

  “Of what?” Caroline replied.

  Annette shrugged. “I don’t know. Going to meet someone who you don’t know, going to live in a place you’ve never seen. Leaving everything you’ve ever known.”

  Caroline laughed. Her best friend had the same penchant for the dramatic that she did. “Of course it scares me. It all scares me, but what scares me even more is the idea that I might end up living a life like my father’s.”

  The girls walked along in silence for a while, and after a fourth lady gave her the stink eye, Caroline flopped down on the grass beside a large sprawling tree. As she wrestled her stockings and boots back on, she sighed. “Honestly, I don’t know what the future looks like.”

  “None of us do,” Annette said, sitting down beside Caroline beneath the tree. “Only the Lord can tell what our future holds.”

  “And I think that the Lord is leading me toward Elliot,” Caroline said.

  The silence that filled the air now was deep but not uncomfortable. Caroline flopped back down on the grass and closed her eyes. There were too many thoughts pounding through her head. She couldn’t make sense of any of them. Finally, she opened her eyes and said, “I’m going to say yes.”

  Chapter Four:

  “I’ve found a suitable man for you to marry,” her father announced at dinner that night.

  Caroline felt as if she had been hit square in the chest, her breath rushing out of her lungs. With wild eyes, she swung her gaze between her mother and her father, hoping that somehow they weren’t serious. Finally, she licked her dry lips and said, “Actually, that won’t be necessary. I’ve already accepted a proposal.”

  Her father actually laughed. Caroline couldn’t believe that he laughed. The blood running through her veins felt red-hot and began to boil. If she had any doubts about her place in this family, then they had all been erased in her father’s laughter.

  “Darling, you can’t be serious. There hasn’t been a young man who has asked for your hand. Now, let your father speak,” her mother said, dabbing the corners of her mouth with her napkin.

  Caroline gaped at her mother, her mouth hanging open slightly. She had no idea how she was going to explain Elliot to her parents, but she was more determined than ever that she was indeed saying yes to him.

  “Now, Caroline, Dr. Munroe has decided that he is looking for a wife, and I believe that he would be a very good match for you,” her father continued as if she hadn’t spoken.

  “But, Father, I don’t want to marry Dr. Munroe.” Caroline clutched her napkin tightly in her fist as she stared at her father.

  “You will marry him because he is the best choice for you,” her father said, cutting the meat on his plate.

  “Don’t I have any choice in the matter?” Caroline asked.

  “Of course you do,” her father said. “You have the choice to marry Dr. Munroe or to become a spinster. I’d say that of those choices, the former is truly the better choice for you.”

  Caroline looked from one parent to the other, her pulse racing and her breath hitching furiously in her chest as she shoved back her chair roughly. “I will not marry Dr. Munroe,” she snapped, throwing her napkin down on the table. “I told you that I have already accepted the proposal of another man. His name is Elliot Reynolds. Pastor Danforth gave me the first letter from him. I’m going to join him in South Dakota as soon as I can.”

  Her parents stared at her, open-mouthed with disbelief. Despite the fact that she had often been a spirited child, she had never questioned their authority before. She had to admit that she was somewhat shocked herself, but as the words came out of her mouth, she knew that everything she had said was true. In the back of her mind, she was already packing her things. If push came to shove, she would need to travel light so she could travel quickly.

  “What are you saying?” her father demanded.

  “Just what I said,” she replied. “I am going to marry Elliot, and I am leaving by the end of the week.”

  “You will do no such thing,” her father said.

  "There is nothing you can do to stop me,” Caroline said.

  “Caroline!” Her mother’s voice, full of shock and despair, almost made Caroline falter, but she stood her ground.

  “I am going to my room now,” she said. Turning on heel, she walked toward the doorway as fast as she could. As her footsteps echoed on the rough wood stairs, Caroline felt like a band was squeezing all the air out of her chest. She had never asserted herself like that before.

  From the dining room, she could still hear her parents arguing about her behavior. Caroline knew that her mother was trying to calm her father down, but she also knew that her mother supported her father’s desire for her to marry Dr. Munroe.

  Once she got to her room, she sat down at her writing desk and pulled out a sheet of paper. Hurriedly, she scribbled down the note that read: Dear Elliot, I will marry you. I am getting on the next train. I hope that this letter reaches you before I get to the train station. If it does not, I will find you at the newspaper offices. Sincerely, Caroline.

  She folded the paper and sealed it in an envelope. Then she stood and found a small carpetbag that had belonged to her grandfather when he traveled to Chicago from New York. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to fit much of her old life into its confines, but there was something freeing about the thought. Without a moment of hesitation, Caroline began to gather her things.

  At the bottom of the bag, she packed some spare under garments as well as a spare nightgown. She added a pair of long johns, as she supposed that the winters in the mountains would be quite cold, maybe even colder than a Chicago winter. On top of those clothes, she laid two of her favorite dresses, one for practical everyday wear and one for church. They took up most of the room, so she decided she would have to travel in both her sweater and shawl on the train.

  She then looked around her room and tried to decide what keepsakes and trinkets she wanted to take with her. She packed her Bible and a small book of poetry. She fastened the locket her mother had given her for her 10th birthday around her neck. Once she was ready,
she slipped out of her door again and headed down the back stairs. No one was in the kitchen as she hurried out the back door with her bag.

  As she started down the street in the fading daylight, she paused once to glance back at her home, which would be her home no longer. Then, taking a deep breath, she hurried on into her future, uttering silent prayers for help and safety with each step.

  Chapter Five:

  When Caroline disembarked from the train, she was tired, gritty and grateful. Pastor Danforth had readily agreed to give her traveling money, and his wife had agreed to talk to her parents. Caroline had spent the night with them, and in the morning, she had hurried to the train station.

  On the train, she had spent much of her time with her Bible, reading passage after passage and praying for guidance. She had never been as impulsive as she had just been, and she needed the Lord’s guidance more than ever.

  As she waited on the platform, she realized that she had no idea what Elliot looked like, save for the brief description that Pastor Danforth had given her. And she had no way of knowing if he had gotten her letter. Her stomach ached as the platform cleared out. The nerves that she had kept at bay now attacked her full force.

  “Caroline?”

  She turned at the sound of her name. “Yes, that’s my name. Elliot?”

  Suddenly she felt shy, something she was unaccustomed to. When the man ducked his head in a quick nod, Caroline smiled. Elliot was tall, much taller than any of the men who had courted her before, and he was lean. His dark blond hair was cut short and awkwardly, nothing like the polished, combed men of her social standing in Chicago. He also had a rough growth of beard that made him look rugged. The men who had courted her in Chicago had all been clean-shaven. She had to admit that she liked the way he looked. The farther she got away from her old life, the more free she felt—the more like herself. Something that she had never known that she hadn’t felt.

 

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