To Take Her Pride

by Anne Brear

  She nodded, swaying against his chest, inhaling his scent of soap and of horse leather and wool. “I had always hoped. Prayed ...”

  After another sweet, tender kiss, they continued walking arm in arm. Reid held Princess’s reins again. “Father has started a new venture. It means I must travel a lot since he’s decided to invest in some North American companies. I will be away all winter touring America.”

  “But you’ll be back in the spring or summer?” She looked up at him, her arm around his waist drawing him ever closer to her side. How would she bear to be parted from him again after what they just shared?

  “Yes. I promise. And then we’ll make plans for our future. Will you wait for me, my beautiful girl?”

  “I’ll wait.”

  “And tomorrow we’ll spend the day together, just you and me.”

  “Yes.” She smiled, feeling light with happiness. Reid Sinclair wanted her. A grin escaped and she fought the urge to skip and sing and shout it out to the world. They stopped at the gate and shared a kiss that grew more demanding with each second. The muscles of his shoulders tensed under her fingers as he deepened the kiss and she gloried in the intimate act. She had waited all her life for this moment.

  From an upstairs window, Julia looked down on the tender scene and her fingers clenched into fists so tightly her nails dug half circles into her palm. That her darling son had lowered himself to consort with a Pettigrew made her irate, but that the chit could now use this embrace as some sort of promise made her furious. She knew something was up the moment she intercepted that little minx’s note. Over her dead body would her adored firstborn marry into that family. The Pettigrews were trades people. Josiah had built the family fortune on the strength of his mining and warehouse interests. She grimaced, watching the couple below and their lingering parting. No doubt Josiah’s people were common laborers or shopkeepers before his rise to riches. Well, they were definitely not good enough for her Reid.

  She thought back to the first time she met the Pettigrews, not long after their ugly house was built right beside her own park! It was bad enough at the time that the Sinclair’s were even to have such close neighbors and John, damn him, had found nothing untoward about it. He claimed the Hall had more than enough land as it was to take care of, and selling some of it to invest in other areas a wise decision his late father had made. Julia believed differently. It was degrading to have others living just three acres away. True, ancient trees on the border sheltered both houses from the other’s view, but the principle was the same. None of her friends had close neighbors in the country. Nor had any of them married into a family who didn’t greatly care for land ownership, but who instead gained money from other opportunities. Trust her to pick the only wealthy man in England who preferred stocks and shares to solid ground investments. John’s lack of interest in his estates verged on the ridiculous. Despite being born at the Hall he was a town man, like his father before him. Thank heavens Reid enjoyed the estate and would ensure it survived. She had no doubt that John would sell off more land if Reid hadn’t dissuaded him.

  Movement below brought her attention back to Reid and ‘the situation.’ When she first met Winnie Pettigrew, she knew at once of their class difference. Winnie had mentioned they’d arrived from York, although Josiah’s family were originally from Manchester. So why, if one side came from York and the other from Manchester did they end up near Leeds? More than once over the years she had tried to pry information from Winnie, but the woman closed up when their conversations turned to families. She knew about Josiah’s family, he’d spoken of them to John, and about his rise in fortune. But why did Winnie tactfully change the subject whenever she asked about her parents or siblings? Did Winnie have something to be ashamed of, or to hide? Were they running from something or someone? Did her family have debts or unsavory characters? There had to be something unmentionable, otherwise Winnie would speak of them. So what was it?

  Julia wracked her mind for Winnie’s maiden name, which she was sure she’d mentioned once. B…B-something. Baird? Barker? Burton? Barton! Yes, Barton. She silently congratulated herself on having a quick and retentive brain. Winnie Barton from York.

  She turned to her silent French maid hovering at her back. “Gavet, send for my carriage. I wish to go into Leeds on business.” She glanced back at the couple standing by the gate in the distance and grimaced.

  Chapter Three

  “I am so tired of this snow.” Bettina collapsed onto the blush red sofa beside the roaring fire. She’d just spent an hour playing the piano. “Why do we still have snow in the first week of April? It’s spring for heaven’s sake and last week was so pleasant.”

  “We cannot control nature. Besides, it is only a light dusting.” Aurora sighed, her attention wandering from the Jane Austen novel she held. She’d read more times than she cared to count over the years, but she had nothing new to read since finishing, which hadn’t been to her taste. The low clouds and white landscape beyond the window made not only the day gloomy, but also everyone in the house. Her mother was laid low with a chest cold and her sisters were bored and irritable.

  “Let us ask Mrs Pringle if we can make shortbread again.” Harriet threw down her pen. She was practicing her German by writing letters in the language to people who didn’t exist.

  “I’m sure Mrs Pringle has more pressing things to do in the kitchen than pay attention to you two.” Aurora closed her book and went to stand by the window that showed a white world. “The snow has stopped. I think the sun is trying to come out. Shall we go for a walk?” As she spoke the clouds parted just enough for a streak of pale sunshine to appear and coat the drive.

  “It’s too cold.” Harriet pouted, playing with the red ribbon in her curls.

  “Come, we’ll go to the kitchen. Mrs Pringle will be glad of our company.” Bettina grabbed Harriet’s hand. “After all, it’s not as if we have dinner guests this week so her menus will be rather mild and she will have plenty of time to spend with us. We’ll bake something for Mother to make her feel well again.”

  “She’d like a nice cup of tea sent up,” Aurora added.

  “Will do.” Bettina pulled Harriet after her and their chatter followed them down the hallway.

  Alone, Aurora pulled out of her pocket Reid’s latest letter, which had arrived two days ago from New York. Throughout the long cold winter months, she’d been kept hopeful by his letters that spoke of his regard and love for her. Her family knew she received some of them, but others arrived when the family were out and she’d been able to secret them off the silver platter on the hall table before anyone was aware. They thought Reid wrote to her as a friend, if they saw the number of letters he sent and their contents, they would soon know otherwise.

  His latest news was about coming home in May. She closed her eyes in sweet anticipation of seeing him again. This year would be year. She’d be engaged to a man she adored and loved and, if she had her way, by Christmas she’d be married to Reid. They’d spend their honeymoon celebrating the dawning of the last year of this century. Who knew, perhaps in the new century, she would be bringing into the world the next generation of Sinclairs.

  She opened the letter and read again;

  Dearest darling Aurri,

  I’m writing this from my rooms overlooking the Hudson River and I hope you receive this in full health. I’m tired of writing letters to you, darling, I want to hold you in my arms. I’ve been away from you too long.

  Father is keen for me to extend our business interests…

  The muted crunch of carriage wheels on the drive drew her attention. The Sinclair carriage came to a stop as Tibbleton opened the doors. Julia Sinclair stepped down looking splendid in a day dress of striped blue and white with a matching blue hat trimmed with fur.

  Sighing, Aurora straightened her skirt of pale green. In comparison to Reid’s mother she felt like a poor cousin. Tucking her letter into her pocket, she rose and waited for Tibbleton to announce their guest. Auro
ra placed a polite smile on her face in welcome.

  “How is your dear mother?” Mrs Sinclair stepped into the room and kissed the air at the side of Aurora’s cheek. “Is she better?”

  “Not as yet, Mrs Sinclair. She is still abed.”

  “Oh, dear that is rather sad news.” She glanced around the large parlor with a distinctive air of someone who has seen something unpleasant.

  “Mr Sinclair and the boys are well?” Aurora waved her to a seat. “I’ve not seen them for some weeks. They should be coming north for Easter soon.”

  “No. They are staying in London with John. I’ll be travelling down south on Saturday to be with them and I will stay there for a month or so to await Reid’s home coming.”

  “Lovely.” Aurora’s smile became strained. “What date does Reid return? Is it May?”

  “Yes, and we are expecting some wonderful news then about Reid and Miss FitzGibbon.”

  “Really?” She pretended to be interested; all the while she wanted to scream it wasn’t so.

  Mrs Sinclair perched on the very edge of the chair as though she didn’t want to soil the fine material of her dress. “Absolutely. Reid might be across the water, but he and his lady have been in constant touch.”

  Aurora took a deep breath and strove for calmness. The poor woman lived in a dream. “It is Tom’s birthday in the summer. Will there be a large celebration?” She congratulated herself on acting normal and steering the conversation to a safer topic.

  “I believe so. And I hope it will be a double celebration. A birthday and an engagement.” Julia’s stare didn’t waver.

  “I see.” Trying to keep her composure, Aurora fiddled with a vase of freshly picked daffodils. Like the tide, Mrs Sinclair was unstoppable.

  “Oh, yes. Nothing would please me more than to see Reid marry Miss Fitzgibbon and to soon hold his child in my arms.”

  The barb struck home as was intended and Aurora couldn’t remain silent another minute. She roamed around the room, itching to wipe the smug look from the other woman’s face. “Reid has been writing letters to me, did you know?”

  “Well, naturally he would, dear. You are like a sister to him.” Mrs Sinclair rose and made for the door. “Now, I must not delay another moment. I shall call again when your mother is well enough for visitors. Good day.” She was gone from the room and outside to her carriage before Aurora could say another word.

  “Damn her!” Aurora gave the back of the sofa an unladylike punch.

  By mid April the lingering snow had melted, allowing the spring flowers to bloom in all their glory in the bright sunshine. It seemed the countryside had suddenly sprang into life. Gorse and blackthorns were in blossom on the edge of the fields, as were the crab apple and other fruit trees in the small orchard behind the house. The air appeared filled with butterflies as wall and garden whites flittered from flower to blossom, jostling for position with the bees. Primroses bloomed in the shelter of the hedges and in the coppice bluebells were thick in number.

  The girls could hardly be contained inside now the worst of the weather had departed and spent hours outside painting warblers, swallows and house martins which were busy with nests and fledglings. Each day Aurora took to riding the lanes and tracks in the countryside around her home, happy to be away from the confines of the house and the instructions of her mother, who was doing her best to teach her the home duties of a mistress. Sometimes her sisters joined her, but other times Aurora rode alone. After a winter of being cooped up indoors, she was glad to be out breathing the warm air and feeling the sun on her face.

  Riding Princess along the road that led to village, she allowed her mind to go blank as she rocked gently in time to the mare’s slow gait. Finches darted in the flowering hedgerows and a lark sang from the trees bordering the road. High above on a wind current a kestrel hovered, scouring the fields for rodents.

  Further ahead a carriage came around the bend in the road. Aurora checked Princess and guided her to the grass verge as the carriage came closer. It wasn’t until the vehicle had nearly passed that she recognized the driver, who raised his whip to her in salute.

  “Good day, Benson,” she called, wondering if the Sinclair carriage was empty or if one of the boys had come home. A dark head popped out of the carriage window and her stomach flipped as Reid held up his hand in greeting.

  “Reid!”

  “Stop, Benson.” Reid had the door open and was stepping down before the carriage completely halted. He ran to her as she dismounted.

  For a long moment they simply stood and stared at each other. It had been over seven months since they were last in each other’s arms. Reid turned and waved the carriage on. “I’ll walk with Miss Pettigrew, Benson.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  They waited for the carriage to disappear behind another turn in the road before touching or speaking. She noticed he’d changed a little; his face was leaner, his eyes not so full of promise and excitement like they used to be. He looked tired, worn, and older.

  Reid took her gloved hands and kissed the back of them. “I have missed you every day.”

  “And I you.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “Thank you for your letters. I lived for their arrival.”

  “And I for yours.”

  She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his neck, her heart bursting for love of this man. “Kiss me, please.”

  He pulled her tight against him and kissed her soundly, deeply, exploring the shape of her lips and mouth as though to reacquaint himself. Out of breath they managed to draw apart to stare into each other’s eyes.

  “When did you get home? I thought it would be weeks yet?” She sensed something was wrong by the sadness in his eyes and her stomach clenched in fear. “What is it?”

  “I had to come home sooner than planned. Mother cabled me from London. My father ...” Reid drew in a deep breath. “He has had a heart seizure.”

  “I didn’t know!” She held him close. “Oh, my darling. When?”

  “Two weeks ago, just before Easter. He is weak, but alive and gaining some spirit back. The doctor says he might not make a full recovery and he could have another seizure at any time or he could live for years. I have never seen my father reduced as low as this. It’s taken the fight from him ... I’m not ashamed to admit I am scared.”

  “Oh, Reid. I’m sorry to hear it, really I am.”

  “My ship docked in Southampton a few days ago and I haven’t had a moment’s rest since. I headed straight to Kensington. I feel like I have been travelling for years and I’m exhausted. Mother is distraught and my brothers unsure of what to do or how to react.” His smile was brief, troubled. “And I missed you.”

  “It must be terrible for you all.” She cupped his cheek, aching for him in his unhappiness. As natural as breathing they fell into step and, collecting Princess, headed for home.

  “I’m not going to be here long, my love.” He smiled gently, tucking her arm into his, leading the mare. “Just today and tonight, I’m afraid. Tomorrow I must leave for London again. I’m only here because my father was anxious about some important papers in his study and insisted I and no one else retrieve them for him. You know how the sick can be. They worry over the slightest thing. The doctor made it very clear that we had to do all we could to ease father’s stress and anxiety. So, I said I would leave immediately. Mother wanted to send Tom, but Father insisted on me going and I was only too glad because it meant I could see you. I’m afraid Mother is quite annoyed with me, and poor Tom, he thinks Father does not trust him on such an errand.” A long sigh escaped him. “He got dreadfully drunk and didn’t come home until the next morning. Now Mother is furious with everyone. I believe she uses anger as a shield when things are out of her control. I happily made my escape, but I worry about leaving Father.”

  “You did the right thing to ease his worry.” Aurora shivered, glad Julia and all the upset was happening in London and not next door. “I’m sorry it is due to
tragic circumstances, but I am so pleased you are here.”

  “I’ve been away longer than I expected, Aurora.” He stopped and took her in his arms again, holding her tight. “Too many months have gone by since we were last together. I wish I had never gone to New York, but I had no choice in the matter. And now ...”

  “I understand.” She kissed him, loving the feel of being openly affectionate towards him. “Do you think your family will have to remain in London for long?”

  “For some months. Father is in no state to travel and everything is unsettled. He is acting strangely, as though he feels his time is short and therefore he must work harder and quicker to complete his plans. I do not mind he puts it all on my shoulders, but no matter how hard I try he expects me to do more.” He drew in a deep breath and looked out over the crop growing fields.

  Aurora saw in his eyes all the stress and anxiety inside him. “Then it will be another separation for us?”

  “I’m sorry.” He kissed her gently as if in apology. “We’ll have to put our plans for the future on hold.”

  “Yes…” She tried not to be selfish, but her heart cried in disappointment. She’d waited long enough for Reid. For once she would like to have something of her own. A husband, a home, a baby. She was nearly one and twenty and ready to forge a life with the man she loved.

  “I know it will be hard.” He threaded his long fingers through hers.

  “Forces are against us it seems.” They turned and walked on, much to Princess’s annoyance as she’d found a patch of new spring grass to nibble.

  Reid hugged her close as they walked. “But not forever. Soon we will be together.”

  Sighing, she shook her head. “I do not think it will be easy, Reid. Your mother is set on you marrying Miss FitzGibbon. A Pettigrew isn’t good enough for you or her family.”

  He stopped and stared in amazement at her. “Nonsense. Mother adores you all. Our families have been friends for years.”