by Julia Donner
At the end of the interview, she stood flushed and violated. The duke gave her father an abrupt nod of acceptance. Never a word to her. They set the wedding date for the day after her fifteenth birthday, and discussed monies and contracts as they walked away from her, left her standing in the empty receiving room, too horrified to rebel or weep. That came later, as her birthday neared and desperation dug in its claws.
She flinched when a deep voice murmured, “That must have been terrifying for a girl.”
She hadn’t realized that she’d been telling him, speaking out loud about the disgusting event, of being handed off like a brood mare led to the breeding barn. She swallowed again and clasped her hands in her lap, too humiliated to look him in the face. She watched the disappointed ducks swim away, a graceful flotilla on tranquil waters, while inside she struggled to regain calm, erase the resurrection of the duke’s filthy touch.
Something had to be said. The silence and his obvious concern had to be addressed. “I did the unthinkable and ran away with Albert the day of the wedding. Hadn’t meant to do such a terrible thing. I jilted the duke in the worst possible way. He waited at the church. Many guests invited. Monies had been exchanged, contracts broken—
“A girl abused.”
Her lips quivered and she pressed them together to stop her telltale reaction to the truth, to the small—but for her—vital validation. She inhaled then said, “The obligation to marry well. It is the lot of our class, is it not? But I could not bring myself to wed the duke and therefore failed as a daughter.”
“I think you showed bloody good sense.”
She choked out a laugh. “Cameron, you said that on purpose!”
His smirk and the twinkle in his eyes confirmed it. “How did you meet your Albert?”
“At an assembly. All quite harmless. He looked so dashing in his regimentals.”
“And how did you come to learn the arts of midwifery?”
She settled back against the bench. “I had a very dear friend, Beryl. After Albert fell at Badajoz, I wrote to her and she invited me to come to her. She desired female support and company. It seems she was continuously in an interesting condition and needed the distraction of friendship. I was introduced to the local midwife and it went from there. I required an income. She wished to retire and was willing to teach me.”
“You were allotted no pension from Albert, received nothing from your family?”
“My family cut the connection, even publicly announced it. The duke, you see, was influential. And furious. Probably remained that way to his grave.”
“Let the man dance in hell for all I care, the brute. And Beryl? What happened to her?”
“Childbirth. She was not meant for it, as some women are not. She’d gone with Sir Hugh to London and a clumsy sort allowed the worst to happen. I still carry guilt for not being with her. I don’t know that I could have done anything. It’s one of the reasons I’ve so wanted those medical books.”
“And you stayed on where Beryl lived?”
“Yes, in Callander. Sir Hugh very kindly offered a living there as a district midwife, a comfortable cottage and stipend.”
“But with only one fireplace.”
With pretended affront she scolded, “It is my very own home and I am content, thank you very much!”
He grinned again. “You are so easily riled.”
“No. Merely grateful to have moved away from the discomfort of that scene at the bookstore. I do apologize for placing you in such an untenable position.”
He softly laughed and gazed out at the ducks. “You have no idea what constitutes an untenable position in my opinion. Do you feel well enough restored to return to Asterly House?”
Halfway back to the carriage she halted on the path. “I forgot to pay for the books! How stupid of me.”
“Allison, a bill will be sent with the delivery.”
“But Mr. Bradford, they were not only my choices but also gifts requested by Lady Exton-Lloyd. It will be no trifling amount.”
“Keeping in mind the destination, I am sure the books and bill have already arrived. Pass along the amount to Crimm and he will see to the matter. You worry over nothing and forget that Lady Asterly’s notion of exorbitant and yours are on an entirely different plane.”
“The fact that such an outlay will not merit a pittance in her estimation does not provide me with leave to take advantage of her generosity.”
“Allison, your scruples do you credit, but I ask you to start thinking of how others see you. And not through the eyes of your family! They are not worthy, I assure you, but with friends like Asterly and Sir Harry, their friends and wives. Without noticing it, you have surrounded yourself with a bastion that will stand behind and with you, through the worst life has to offer. And I thought we agreed to use our given names.”
“Yes, Cameron. I forgot.”
He patted the hand she had replaced on his arm. He felt so solid, safe and invincible under the sleeve. He believed in her, said his friends would feel the same. But would they stand by her if they knew the entire truth? She couldn’t tell them or Cameron the “worst” of it. It was bad enough that in a moment of weakness, she’d divulged the horrific events that changed her life. At least she hadn’t blurted the damage caused by her own naiveté and Albert’s perfidy. But she would not, could not ever betray the memory of the man who saved her from her family.
Chapter 11
Cameron stared out the morning room window without seeing. The sunlight blazing through the glass didn’t brighten his mood. Allison had left, six days and three hours ago to be precise. Her absence felt as if he’d lost a limb. An empty heaviness weighed down his spirits, distracting him from the wondrous news he held in his hand.
Asterly rising from the table brought him back to the present. Cameron watched his friend fold the newspaper and set it by his empty plate. Taking a last sip from his cup, Asterly replaced it in its saucer and leaned over the corner of the table to kiss his wife’s cheek.
“Off to an appointment, Lizzie. We’ll see you this evening, Squid?”
Cameron shrugged a shoulder, not easy due to the snug fit of another new jacket. “I expect so. I haven’t a tray full of invitations, like Elizabeth.”
She dropped the invitation she held on the tablecloth. “I do apologize, Cameron. Go away, Asterly. You are de trop.”
Asterly laughed and kissed her again but on the cheek he hadn’t bussed before. “Married how many years now and she still insists on the title, especially when she’s trying to act severe. But I live to adore and obey. This evening, then, love.”
Lady Asterly watched the door close and turned her attention to Cameron. “I will not apologize for unseemly impertinence and ask if your letter has brought the news you’d hoped for. You’ve found your family?”
He carefully folded the letter from his mother. “She’s packing and has plans for traveling here in slow stages. Mother is not a good traveler. Agnes is up in boughs, in transports with the idea of once again enjoying the Season’s frenzied activity. She still thinks the Thames will freeze over just so she may go skating. My thanks, Elizabeth, for finding them.”
She tossed the invitation she’d been reading on a pile sliding off the silver salver. “You must thank Crimm for that. He has informants everywhere. Much of the information he receives is of no use. He strains the dross and retains what is important. He told Asterly that the agent for Loverton Grange has been carrying on in questionable form.”
Cameron studied an unfinished toast slice on his plate and toyed with the idea of marmalade as he nudged it with a spoon. “Yes, Perry said the fellow has been known to invest in unlikely schemes. None have borne fruit. There are unresolved questions as to the source of his investments. Perry thinks the funds he misused came from an inheritance I should have received. The agent somehow commandeered it or folded it back into the Loverton estate, thinking I’d stuck my spoon in the wall. Perry also got a list of survivors from my crew, made sure t
hey all received their pay or any prize monies due. He and Crimm have unearthed in little time what would have taken me months. If at all. My head is spinning. I don’t know how you and Perry accomplish so much.”
She stirred milk into her teacup. “We have staff to do the tedious, while we finesse the difficult pieces. Asterly said your men had been taken from a pirate ship three years ago. All but five of the original group survived.”
Cameron pressed the pad of his forefinger on a wayward crumb fallen on the tablecloth and transferred it to his plate. “Yes. Sad about the five. I shall visit their families. May I ask what might be uncomfortable questions?”
After a sip of tea, she said, “You are certainly encouraged to ask, but that does not mean that I will answer.”
“It is about Alli…Mrs. Davidson.”
“Ah. In that case, ask away.”
“Have you known her long?”
“Only since she was recommended to me as a friend and an excellent accoucheuse by Lady Exton-Lloyd. It is my understanding that she enjoyed a friendship with Sir Hugh’s first wife. As is the case with many war widows, Mrs. Davidson was left without income. She discovered a vocation and Sir Hugh gave her a living.”
“It’s all so unusual. I keep wanting Davidson alive to give him a lecture on leaving his wife destitute. And her family, from what she’s told me, are a heartless lot. I cannot imagine casting off a daughter or sister, no matter what the infraction.”
Lady Asterly quietly replied, “One must never expect the actions of others to mirror one’s own. My father repeatedly warned me of that when I was quite young. Perhaps still in leading strings. You were blessed with wonderful parents, from all that I’ve heard of them. Mrs. Davidson was not so lucky. She is to be congratulated that she found a path in life that provides for her in so many ways. Now, when do your mother and sister arrive and would you like them to stay here?”
“Elizabeth, you and Perry have done so much already.”
She cut him off by raising her hand. “I told you. That gift you gave to Asterly and Harry has never been forgotten. There are numerous bedchambers in this house. Make use of them. Spend time with the family you have missed. Rejoice in this time, Cameron. It is our pleasure to share this joy with you.”
One side of his mouth tugged a bit as he smiled, as it always did. For some reason, the slight pull on his lips reminded him of Allison, how her gaze softened every time he smiled. Talking about her helped to ease the hole of her absence. Just knowing that she was near had been enough. Most of the time. Part of the time. As much as he looked forward to embracing his mother and sister again, that empty place in his soul longed for another his family’s love could not fill.
Chapter 12
Allison stared out across the rolled lawn to the stream, its borders partially frozen—Coldstream, living up to its name. This view from the library never failed to enchant. Callander, Scotland was a long way from the moorlands where she’d been born but had easily become home. And yet, for the first time in a long time, she acknowledged the sense of not belonging, of something missing. Him. Better off forgetting Mr. Cameron Bradford and doing what she’d been asked, watching out for two, rambunctious lads.
Sir Hugh’s sons, seven and six, flung snow at each other, scampering over turf covered in patches of white. A trout stream at the lawn’s edge still had bits of green clinging to its banks. Hills and forests stretched beyond. It was, as Cameron had said, pretty country. She watched the boys play, a sad smile curving her mouth, as she remembered their late mother. What would she have done without Beryl’s friendship and patronage? She’d been trained to be fit for nothing but an aristocrat’s wife. She had no references, no chance for employment as a governess. That left the workhouse. The thought of it brought on a shudder.
A muffled shout brought her attention back to the boys. Howie, Sir Hugh’s youngest, hurled a ball of snow at his older brother, Waldo, who dropped his sober mannerisms to act the boy he was, retaliated with laughing verve, flinging handfuls with punishing effect. Their lumbering black dog joined the battle.
She inhaled a contented sigh. Country living soothed the heartache bred in town. The brief, emotional respite was ruined by a vivid recollection of the incident in town. Her mental cringe was followed by a physical one from the impossible to forget scene at Hatchard’s. The encounter smeared a blot on her memories of the times she’d spent with Cameron. He didn’t know that he’d witnessed the least of the many humiliations she’d endured. With a small headshake and squaring of her shoulders, she shoved it aside. London was far away, and the next time she visited, she wouldn’t venture out in public.
The door opened and she turned to see Emily, Lady Exton-Lloyd, come through. Even though rounded with the child due at any time, she moved easily with no signs of the discomforts most women endured in the last days.
Emily could not be designated a beauty but drew every eye when she entered a room. She had lovely dark eyes and hair, but more importantly, Emily exuded an unusual air, one of sated sensuality. Men found her irresistible. Some women despised her, recognizing in her insurmountable competition. Allison found her company soothing, likening it to a comfortable motherliness. In any event, the days of competing for masculine attention were long over and gone. Perhaps for that reason, she had no qualms in the company of a person with Emily’s candid and entirely open personality. Emily was too blunt and candid for most, but never devious or hurtful on purpose. Blunt speaking could be dealt with but not vicious subterfuge. There was safety in Emily’s mischievous candor.
“Heigh-ho, Allison, how fare you this day?”
“Very well, but more importantly, you?”
Emily snatched a pillow from the couch and dropped it on a chair. Bracing her hands on its arms, she eased down onto the seat, the only concession to her condition that Allison had ever seen her reveal.
“Ah, much better! The baby hasn’t stirred in days. I’m beginning to worry.”
“Do not. It is an indication that the birth is imminent.”
“Hah! My daughter is saving up for the assault, wretched little rascal. Are the boys staying away from the stream? I strictly forbade them to go near it. They would end up soaked and frozen. My Hugh is a hardy one, and so are the boys, but one mustn’t tempt the illness fairy.”
Allison crossed the room to sit near Emily. “I watched them for a time. Howie knew I was and still grabbed up a stick and made for the water.”
“One must never tell Howie that he cannot do a thing. He will immediately set his mind to doing it.” Emily grinned. “I’ll wager Waldo fetched him back.”
“He did. They eventually took their snow fight to the other side of the house. Allow me to say how the boys have flourished since you’ve come to Coldstream. They were quietly despondent after their mother died. They expressed their grief with endless pranks. Poor Sir Hugh.”
“Pooh! They never practiced their evil arts on him.”
Allison silently laughed. “No, they saved them for their father’s attempts to remarry. Some of their tricks were horrifying. The servants are fond of recalling the one they played on you the day Sir Hugh brought you home.”
“Ah, yes, the disintegrating frog.” Emily dismissed the prank with a snort and sultry chortle. “They would have to come up with something much worse than a moldy frog carcass to shock me. I actually found it rather amusing. And heartbreaking, in its way. They were so lonely.”
“That surprised me. Beryl wasn’t an attentive mother. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about them, but that she had no interest in children and disliked the entire process of creating them.”
“They had to have sensed it, not that such disinterest is all that unusual in our social strata. We are trained from the cradle to marry suitably, to provide offspring and entertainment for our spouses.”
Allison recalled her first encounter with the obligation to marry well. Because of that horrific interview, she’d always felt sympathy and understanding for Beryl’s apat
hy regarding procreation. The thought of engaging in intimacy with the duke had always brought on a gagging reflex. As she matured and took on the obligations of midwife, she began to yearn for children of her own, and yearn for the one she lost in miscarrying. But through that tragedy, she’d been introduced to the calling that saved her in so many ways.
Allison’s forehead wrinkled with a frown as she watched her friend arch and rub her lower back. “Emily, do you have pain in your spine?”
“Not really. More of an ache low in the abdomen. You know, I loved Beryl as much as you but was fully aware of her self-involvement, which was quite comprehensive. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about people. She cared for herself more, while at the same time being so excessively charming and kind.”
“Exactly. I don’t know how I would have carried on after Albert died without her kindness. She had Sir Hugh set up the cottage and stipend for me.”
“The soul of self-involvement with a heart crammed full of generosity. But then, she was born so very rich. It’s easy to be generous when one has so much. We were both left destitute. I wasn’t entirely set adrift as you were, but had to sell everything to cover George’s debts. Let’s not be dreary. We shall talk of something else. I’ve asked for tea. Would you pour when it comes?”
“It would be my pleasure and confess that it’s been a treat staying with you. I am content with my little cottage, but it cannot compare to Coldstream. It is no wonder you loved it here as a child.”
“And I can’t thank you enough for living here until the baby arrives. Hugh would have it no other way. I’m surprised that he doesn’t scatter flower petals in your path. He’s such a worrier. Can’t get over how well I feel, even though I look as if I’d swallowed a balloon.”