Forgotten Friend (Roselund Heights)

by Miranda D Nelson

  When he took her hand in his, she could feel its moistness through her glove. “I wish to make my intentions known. I plan to court you for a time before proposing marriage.” He met her gaze. “I hope we will be wed before the year is over.”

  Coralyn felt her eyes go wide. The new year began in less than three weeks. While long engagements were certainly uncommon, three weeks was absurd! Beyond that, she could not begin to imagine a life as Lord Seton’s wife. He was dull in every sense of the word. Through the many tedious conversations they’d had, she had never been entertained by him, and she had yet to see him laugh. A lifetime with him would be unbearable.

  Surely the match would please her mother, but she could not marry a man for the sole purpose of pleasing her mother. Or his.

  Coralyn swallowed against the tightness in her throat. “Lord Seton, I appreciate your attentions.” A thought struck, and she prayed she could avoid disaster. “However, I am afraid such arrangements are not possible at this time. I am to leave on the morrow to my aunt’s in Roselund Heights. She has invited me for the Christmas holiday.”

  Though difficult to discern in the dim light, she saw his expression harden. “Your father led me to believe you would not be pained to abandon those plans.”

  “You have spoken to my father?”

  “Of course.”

  Heat rose in her chest. Father knew how strong her desire to go to Roselund truly was. He had betrayed her in the hopes of securing a marriage. “I am afraid he was mistaken. My aunt is counting on my attendance. I cannot disappoint her.”

  “But you have no qualms in disappointing me?”

  When she did not answer immediately, he dropped her hand and turned to look into the darkness again.

  Coralyn did not know if he intended to say anything else or not. She took a small step away.

  He inhaled deeply then turned to her again. “Very well, I shall await your return. Do I have your guarantee that you will not accept another suitor before you come back to me?”

  While she had no intention of finding a husband at her aunt’s home, she could not make such a promise to a man she never intended to accept. Yet if she refused another proposal, she was certain her father would force her to remain in London. Though she was not one to succumb to tears, she felt a lone one threaten her eye.

  “I am sorry, Lord Seton. But I cannot make that promise.”

  His jaw tightened. “You are flatly refusing me?”

  “I truly am sorry.”

  Anger flashed in his eyes and he turned from her again. “You may go.”

  She rushed a curtsy then hurried toward the open door. She was not the least surprised to see her mother standing just within, clearly listening to the conversation. Coralyn made to hurry past her, but her mother snatched her arm, pulling her along through the crowd. Mother smiled pleasantly and offered apologies to all she passed, yet there was a fire burning below her surface. Coralyn sensed it.

  Mother marched Coralyn directly to Father, who sat to the side, wine glass in hand. Mother leaned close to him, keeping a tight hold on Coralyn’s wrist, and spoke briefly in his ear. Coralyn watched as Father’s face grew stern. He set the wine glass down with a clank on the side table before he stood, his cross gaze on her.

  “Again, Coralyn?”

  She sighed heavily. “Father, you cannot blame me for refusing him.”

  “He is a marquis!” her mother’s fierce whisper pierced the air. “Aside from a duke or the Prince Regent himself, you could not do any better!”

  “Is he?” Coralyn said with mock surprise. “I had no idea!”

  Her father narrowed his eyes at her; her mother looked around frantically, obviously hoping no one had heard.

  “We warned you about this,” her father said in his lowest voice. “You’ll either accept that man or you’ll write to your aunt as soon as we arrive home and tell her you’ll be unable to join her.”

  The time to defend herself had come. “He would have made me miserable, Father.” She looked up at him. “Would you wish such an existence for me? Misery for the rest of my days?”

  His expression softened, but not enough that she felt safe. She turned to her mother and noticed her gaze shift behind her. Even above the sounds of the ball, Coralyn heard angry footsteps approaching. A moment later, Lady Seton turned her forcefully by the arm.

  “How dare you refuse my son! He is a perfect example of what a man ought to be.”

  “I never said—”

  “Do not interrupt me, child!” Lady Seton yelled.

  Coralyn felt the eyes of the surrounding guests turn toward her. Heat crept up her neck. This would become awkward in short order. She was relieved when her mother, never one to cause a scene, stepped forward. “Lady Seton, we are as upset about this as you are. However, I do not feel we need to draw such attention to ourselves. Perhaps we could all step outside.”

  Lady Seton looked down her nose at Mother. “You ought to be ashamed of her.” She turned her disgusted gaze on Coralyn. “I know I would be.”

  Just then, a shout went up from near the set of dancers. The musicians stopped playing. All heads turned in unison toward the sound of the shout. Lord Seton pushed his way through the crowd. Behind him, a man steadied his dancing partner, who had obviously been knocked aside by the marquis.

  Coralyn watched in mixed horror and satisfaction as he fought his way forward. He was nearly free of the guests when another man stepped in front of him. Though the words the gentleman said could not be heard clearly, Lord Seton’s furious reply carried easily across the ballroom, interlaced with a word or two not often spoken in genteel society. When the gentleman would not stand aside, Lord Seton grabbed him by the collars of his waistcoat and thrust him away.

  He stumbled backwards, grasping for a handhold. He did not find one and went crashing into a younger woman, sending her to the ground beneath him. Her cry rent the air. Lord Seton looked about, as if daring another to cross him, stepped over the man and woman, and left the ballroom.

  Several guests rushed forward to help those who had fallen, and low chatter began to fill the room once more.

  Coralyn could not keep her curious gaze from darting to Lady Seton’s face. It was far paler than usual and her shock was evident in her eyes. Coralyn looked at her parents, who exchanged a glance she could not read. But when Lady Seton made a slow turn toward her family, Father stepped forward. “I believe our daughter has made her decision about Lord Seton clear.”

  Anger flashed in Lady Seton’s eyes.

  “And I dare say,” Mother said, also stepping forward, “you ought to be ashamed of him.”

  Lady Seton’s face turned scarlet.

  “I know I would be.” Mother offered a stiff curtsy. “Good night, Lady Seton.”

  Coralyn and her father each offered a brief farewell before following Mother toward the open door near the balcony. Coralyn wrapped her arm around her mother’s waist, unwilling to hide her smile. “You were fantastic, Mother! I cannot tolerate that woman.”

  Mother looked pale and her hand shook as she raised it to her chest. “I cannot believe I spoke in such a way to a marchioness. We will never have favor with them now.”

  Coralyn’s joy fell swiftly. “Why would you care for her good opinion, Mother?”

  “They are titled, Coralyn! Such things matter a great deal.”

  Father came up behind them. “Perhaps we ought to go home.”

  Mother clutched his arm, her eyes wide. “No! We cannot leave with our reputations in such danger. We must heal what we can.” She glanced around the room. “Dearest, there is Mr. and Mrs. Thorne. Let us go speak to them for a time.” She tugged on his sleeve again, straightening the wrinkles she had just inflicted upon him. “Go catch them before someone else does; I’ll join you in a moment.”

  Father shook his head, but obeyed his wife’s wishes.

  Mother searched the crowd again. “Coralyn, go find Lord Belton. He is well respected; it will look good for you to
stand up with him.”

  “Really, Mother, I do not think that is necessary.”

  Mother met her gaze with near panic in her eyes. “Coralyn, please! We must salvage this evening as best we can.”

  An idea settled into Coralyn’s mind. “If I speak with the earl, will you permit me to go to Roselund?”

  Mother had already returned to searching the crowd, and waved her hand absently. “Yes, if you insist.”

  Coralyn smiled as a spark of hope lit in her heart. “Very well. I see Lord Belton there. Hurry to our hostess, Mother. You would not wish to lose the opportunity to raise yourself in her opinion.”

  Her mother did not respond with more than a withering gaze, but hurried off nonetheless.

  The next ten minutes were spent conversing with Lord Belton, who, unlike most of the men her mother encouraged her to associate with, was a pleasant man and a good conversationalist. However, the moment Coralyn saw her parents bid the Thornes goodnight, she gave her own farewell and joined them as they left the ballroom.

  The carriage ride down the roads of London passed quietly for a time, but Coralyn could not remain silent for long. “Well, Father, must I write to Aunt Agnes after all, or will you permit me to travel tomorrow as planned?”

  He did not speak for several moments, moments which to Coralyn seemed to last nearer an hour. “You did refuse a proposal,” he said at last.

  “Yes, but considering his actions, I believe I avoided a most disadvantageous marriage.”

  “If you had not refused him, he never would have become so angry,” Mother said.

  Coralyn glared at her in the dark. She had already given her permission; why did she now try to sway Father? But she was not without her own retort. “And if he had not lost his temper tonight, I’m certain he would have at a later date. Perhaps too late for me to escape the marriage.”

  Father chuckled, a good sign. “You are a stubborn girl.”

  “I am a woman who knows what she desires and what she does not.” Coralyn waited a moment, deciding to mention the piece of information she was certain would sway her mother completely and therefore likely convince her father as well. “I have been told the Duke of Cravenhurst plans to spend the holiday in Roselund Heights.”

  As expected, Mother turned her full attention to Coralyn. “Why is he to dwell there?”

  “His mother has an old friend who lives there.”

  Coralyn knew her mother had made efforts all year long to secure an introduction to the well known and well liked duke, but had been unsuccessful. “I am certain Aunt Agnes could arrange an introduction. She knows everyone in Roselund Heights,” Coralyn said.

  She could almost hear her mother imagining Coralyn’s future as the bride of a duke.

  “It might be beneficial, dearest, to let her go,” Mother whispered.

  Father was quiet again. “Here is what I will agree to. You may go. But I will write your aunt and inform her to prod you toward the more eligible men in her association.”

  “And you must secure an introduction to the duke,” Mother put in.

  Despite the added criteria, Coralyn felt a rush of joy and relief. Another happy moment to embrace. She kept her voice even, Mother and Father did not need to know just how pleased they had made her. “Very well.”

  Though she could not see Father’s face in the dark, she heard the seriousness in his tone. “You must be on your best behavior, Coralyn. If I hear of you acting against our standards, I’ll bring you home straight away.”

  Coralyn smiled ruefully in the darkness.

  Then I’ll have to be certain you do not hear of it.

  Late the next afternoon, Coralyn watched out the window as the landscape stirred memories of years long past. As they passed Roselund Heights, she was tempted to stop and explore the town. However, she resisted the urge. There would be time for such ventures in the coming weeks.

  But when the carriage turned down the wooded lane leading to Lynwood Manor, Coralyn rapped on the ceiling. The maid Mother had sent along as a chaperon snorted loudly as she awoke, looking around in confusion. Coralyn heard the driver call to the horses and felt the carriage roll to a stop.

  “Are we there?” the maid asked, peering out the window.

  “Not yet.”

  The footman opened the door. “Is there a problem, miss?”

  “No, but I’d like to walk from here.”

  The footman stepped back in surprise as Coralyn exited the carriage.

  “It’s still a mile to the house, miss.”

  Coralyn smiled. “I am well aware, thank you.” The maid sighed and shuffled toward the door. “Oh, no, I won’t make you walk the remainder of the way. You may ride on ahead.”

  The maid’s eyes widened. “But Lady Celia said—”

  Coralyn gave the maid the most frigid look she could manage. “My mother is not here. I do not require a chaperon at this time.” She closed the door soundly.

  The footman still looked uncertain as to what he ought to do.

  “Drive on, I’ll be along shortly.”

  He ducked his head. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Coralyn watched until the carriage drove away around a bend in the road. A thrill of freedom rose in her chest. It had been years since she’d been anywhere without a chaperon. She breathed deeply of the country air, tinged with saltiness from the nearby sea, and walked a few paces down the road, watching the ground.

  There, just a short distance ahead, lay the path she looked for. She smiled when she saw that it remained well marked, and strode down it confidently. The path wound through the trees to the small clearing she had frequented so often as a child. Memories of her time spent there filled her with a sense of nostalgia.

  As much a part of her memories as Lynwood itself was Christopher. Over the years she’d never forgotten him. Especially these last two years, as she’d dreamt of actually returning to Lynwood. Though she anticipated a wonderful holiday, it pained her to know that Christopher would not be a part of it.

  As she turned around the last cluster of trees, she came to a hasty stop. A man in a brown cloak wandered the clearing, his back to her. Alarm shook all other thoughts from her mind. Though the property was not hers, she’d always considered this place her own. Though aggravated she could not enjoy a moment in the clearing, she did not want to interrupt the man’s solitude.

  Before she could step back, he sighed heavily then turned toward the path. His step faltered when he saw her standing there.

  A gasp escaped Coralyn’s lips and she pressed her fingers to them. It can’t be.

  But there was no mistaking him. He was taller than she remembered, no great feat, considering it had been nearly eight years since she’d seen him. All the boyishness in his features had vanished and his once unruly dark blond hair now lay neatly styled. But his hazel eyes lacked their sparkle and his face lacked it’s characteristic smile.

  He bowed respectfully. “Excuse me, miss. I did not plan to see anyone here.”

  His voice sent a pleasant tingle down Coralyn’s spine. It had grown smooth and rich with the time. Almost unaware of her movements, she stepped forward. “Christopher?”

  He raised his eyebrows and looked her over.

  She was certain her appearance was less than perfect. After traveling all day, one could only expect so much from their appearance. She shook her head, laughing lightly. “Can it really be you?”

  His expression remained confused. He placed his hands behind him and studied her carefully. “Forgive me, but you have the benefit. I am afraid I do not know to whom I am speaking.”

  Coralyn could not help but laugh again. Could she really have changed so greatly in eight years? A terrible thought passed through her mind. Could he have forgotten me? She shook the thought away just as quickly.

  “It is me. Coralyn Fairchild.”

  The sight of his surprise increased her laughter.

  He smiled in return, an expression Coralyn treasured.

  “Coralyn? I
s it really you?”

  “I am as shocked as you are.”

  Before she could react, his long legs closed the distance between them and he encircled her in his arms. Though surprised, she returned his embrace. “I cannot believe you are here,” she said.

  He pulled away from her and stepped back, seeming flustered. “Forgive me, that was forward.” But still he smiled. “I simply cannot believe it is you. I never would have guessed had you not told me.”

  She placed her hands on her hips in mock dismay. “Have you forgotten me so easily?”

  “Not at all. Only you look quite different from the ten-year-old girl whom I last saw.”

  “I suppose you may be forgiven, then. I am pleased to no longer look ten.”

  “You certainly do not look ten.”

  Coralyn did not miss the appreciation in his gaze and felt her cheeks warm.

  He cleared his throat. “Your hair is much darker than I remember, and your face has certainly lost its roundness.”

  She cast him a teasing glare.

  “But there in your lovely green eyes, I see it is you.” He tapped her under the chin.

  Coralyn smiled, savoring the familiarity of an old friend. “You always were one for flattery.”

  He chuckled. “You must be staying with your aunt and uncle?”

  “Indeed. It has been such a long time.”

  A shadow crossed his face. “How long are you staying?”

  “My parents expect me home near the new year. However, I hope to trespass on my aunt until Twelfth Night.”

  “And how are your parents?”

  “They are well. London endlessly pleases my mother, and Father finds enough diversion to keep him happy. How is your family? How is little Alice?”

  “Little Alice is not so little, any more. She is seventeen and just had her first season in London.”

  Now it was Coralyn’s turn to be surprised. “Seventeen? How could I have forgotten she was only a year younger than me? I am surprised I did not see her in London. My mother ensures that I am invited to all of the most fashionable parties; I ought to have crossed paths with her.”

  His brows arched and a brief frown fell upon his features.