by Jenna Brandt
He paused for a moment, then added, “She is gone now, and I have you. You are all I need and more in a wife. Do you not see that you are everything she was not and equally beautiful?”
She smiled. “Thank you for saying that.”
“You do not believe me, do you?”
“I am trying to, really I am.”
“You will see in time.” Then after a moment’s thought, he asked, “What about your late husbands? What were they like?”
Margaret stiffened at the mention of Henry and Michel. There was still so much pain from the losses.
“What? What did I say?”
“Nothing… it is only…. Can we go somewhere more discreet?”
Cort nodded and placed his hand under her elbow to guide her to a private sitting room next to the dining room they had just occupied.
Once inside, they sat on one of the sofas and Margaret continued. “Henry, my first husband, and I were both nobility in England. We had been betrothed since we were little. I did not think I loved him in the beginning when we were first married, but by the end, I was deeply in love with him.”
“How did he die?”
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she replied, “He was killed by bandits.”
Cort tipped his head to the side in question. Furrowing his brow, he asked, “How did that happen?”
Margaret pulled out of his embrace and turned her back to him. She crossed her arms, trying to get a grip on the feelings spiraling inside her. “I was with child and wanted a doctor. While he was getting one, he was attacked. But it was not an accident. Someone deliberately set the bandits on my husband.”
Cort pulled her around to face him. “I think you need to start at the beginning: names, places, events. I want to know you, Margaret. If we are to be married, there should be no secrets between us.”
Trying to divert his attention, she retorted, “No secrets, you say? What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Where did you get your education, your obvious refined manners and speech? You surely did not pick them up out here. You may try to disguise who you are, Cortland Westcott, but I know that you are not simply some American cowboy.”
“I am now, and that is all that matters.”
“No, if I must tell you all the sordid details of my past, then you must tell me about your past too.”
After several seconds, he said calmly, “I will tell you where I came from and how I ended up here, but only if you promise to do the same.”
Margaret had not expected him to give in so easily. She thought about his offer. It was true, she was dying to find out who he was and about his life before he lived in America. But did she want to find out at the expense of telling him about her own past? Could she bear it? It was difficult enough to tell Michel and Randall. Could she handle the possibility that he might look at her differently after she told him? Would he even believe her?
She knew they should not have secrets between them, and it would only be a matter of time before it would have to come out. At least this way, it would be on her terms. It would be far worse if he found out by Witherton or Catherine showing up on their doorstep one day.
Before she knew it, she found herself saying, “I agree to your solution.”
“Good.” He took in a deep breath. “My real name is James Cortland Harring. I was born in England. I was the illegitimate son of a nobleman and a servant girl. I was the nobleman’s first son, and even though I was not of titled blood, he took me in, educated me, and cared for me. A couple of years later, he had another son, who would inherit everything from our father, for his mother was my father’s wife. She did not kick me out but allowed my father to keep me at the estate as long as it was made clear who the heir was at all times. But when our father died, my half brother decided he did not want me around. He was fearful that I would try to claim the title and lands for myself. Little did he know that I didn’t want them. I never had. I would have much rather had a brother, but he made my life a living nightmare instead. So, finally, he got his wish. I left and entered the military. But his fear and hatred for me never let up until he finally framed me for desertion.
“I had been in the back alley of a bar in Paris when I was attacked and beaten up. I was knocked unconscious and held somewhere—I do not know where exactly—until my ship had already left the harbor. They let me go, but I was considered a deserter, and if I had returned to England, I would have been hanged for treason. So I used the name Westcott, which I adopted from one of my fellow officers, and worked my way over here as a sailor on a commercial ship. It was on that ship that I found the Lord. It was an odd place to find someone who knew about Jesus, but the captain of the boat was a devoted Christian.
“At first, I was completely against hearing any of it. Being born into the circumstances that I had been, I was angry. I wondered, if God was real, why He would have allowed that, and all the other things, to happen to me. But Captain Luke was relentless, and he showed me the love of the Lord. He also helped me understand that God does not cause bad things to happen to people, but that Satan is the master behind the evil in the world. Captain Luke was the one who showed me that God is not capable of evil, only good, and that He loves everyone and only wants what is best for us. When I accepted the Lord on that cold November night, my life changed forever. The emptiness that had been in me went away, and I started reading my Bible and praying to the Lord all the time. The more I did, the better I felt and the more I started to change into a better person. I began wanting to put down roots and start a family, so I decided to make my way out to California as a hired hand on the wagon trail. I met Estella three years later at a ball after I had made quite a deal of money from buying and selling horses.
“It is funny, my brother probably thinks that he did me in and that he won, but the truth is, he set me free. I found the Lord because he made me leave everything I knew behind. I found two wonderful women to love and the chance to be a father, and that makes me the true winner, despite what he did to me.”
“Have you seen or heard from your brother since you left Europe?”
“No, and I hope I never do.”
“Do you ever want to go back?”
“Not really. I was no one there, just an illegitimate son of a nobleman. But here, I can make my own way and my own name. I do not need a title to achieve anything as long as I live in America.” He looked at her and then asked probingly, “How did you end up here? Why did you leave your title behind?”
She cringed, thinking of the whole horrible affair. Noticing her reaction to his question, he stated, “You cannot back out. You agreed, remember.”
“Yes, it is just hard.” After pausing for a moment, she finally found the courage to continue after several seconds of silence. “I was born Margaret Elaine Wellesley, twin to Randall Thomas Wellesley, daughter to Lord Stewart Patrick Wellesley, Earl of Renwick. My mother, Lady Charlotte Elaine Sutton, Baroness of Ramlin, died giving birth to us. When we came over here, we took on our grandmother’s maiden name, Learingam. I was betrothed to Henry William Wiltshire, the Viscount Rolantry, since I was a child.”
Cort inhaled sharply and looked confused.
“What is it, Cort?”
He shook his head, replying, “Nothing. Keep going.”
“But I fell in love with another man… the Duke of Witherton, Lord Richard Charles Crawley III. He courted me, sought after me, and even asked my father for my hand. But my father was a man of his word, and he had already promised me to Henry. So, even though I told my father I was not in love with Henry, he made me marry him anyway. Then I came to realize, over time, that I did love Henry, but had been hiding from it. I came to understand that I had merely been infatuated with Witherton and decided to make my marriage work. When I told this to Witherton, he was furious. You see, secretly, he had been trying to use me to get at Henry, but I was unaware of it at the time. He sent me a letter, telling me that he needed to meet with me or he would leak some
scandalous things about Henry to everyone we knew. I know it seems stupid that I went alone, but I thought I was protecting my husband. When I got there, he attacked me. Henry arrived shortly after, invited by the duke as a trap, but he was able to stop him before he ruined me.” Margaret paused and took a deep breath. It was so hard to say, even now, after all this time. She pushed back the tears, gripping her hands together in front of her.
“I am so sorry, Margaret, that he put you through that.”
Margaret’s eyes snapped up as she noticed the personalization in his tone when he addressed Witherton. Why did he do that? Wanting to finish as quickly as possible, she pushed Cort’s reaction aside. “I thought we were finished with Witherton, but while I was pregnant with Henry’s child, he had bandits attack Henry and kill him. I didn’t know he was behind it until much later when he tracked me down in France and revealed the truth. You see, I had fled to France to escape Henry’s sister, who believed the rumors and wanted to take my son from me to raise as the Rolantry heir without me in his life. I knew I had to leave England, and I wanted to go to France to look for my brother, Randall, who had gone missing years prior.”
“That explains a lot of things, but why are you in America? And why are you using a different name without your titles?”
“We were very content in France. Randall met Jackie, or rather the Vicomtesse of Durante, and I was engaged to marry Lord Michel Robineau, the Marquis de Badour. But Witherton found me and tried to force me to marry him. I refused. I could never live with him or subject my son to his cruelties. Then he resorted to blackmailing me. He said he would tell Catherine where we were if I did not agree to his demands. I was able to get away from him and was determined to leave France, but Michel talked me into staying, believing he could protect us. Witherton tracked us down and attacked Michel, wounding him, but we thought he would recover. We were married but he died a few days later from an infection. I knew I had to leave Europe forever, and Randall and Jackie decided to come with me, as well as my two remaining loyal servants. We came to the Americas hoping to evade both Witherton and Henry’s sister.”
“I am so sorry all of that happened to you, Margaret. I will protect you with my dying breath. You do not have to be afraid any longer. I really believe God is going to use our relationship to mend your past.”
She looked up at her husband-to-be and replied, “I think He is going to use me to do the same for you.”
“He already has, Margaret. He knows exactly what He is doing. God gives you what you need, not always what you want. He knows I needed you and your son, and He brought you into my life at the exact time I was ready.”
Margaret looked up into Cort’s eyes and realized God had given her the man of her dreams in the most unexpected time and place. Cort was exactly what she needed, and God knew it.
Chapter 8
Margaret had never felt so beautiful as she looked at herself in the mirror. The local dressmaker had created an ivory satin gown with lace details at the neckline and on the edges of the sleeves and hem. It was simpler than her first wedding gown, and the one she had been fitted for in France, but she loved it. Because of her happiness, she felt the most settled she had in her life.
As she walked down the aisle in one of the hotel’s private rooms, she saw Cort’s loving grin and knew she was making the best decision of her life. He watched her intently as she approached him. She smiled as she took in his devastatingly handsome physique. He looked gorgeous in his perfectly tailored, cobalt blue suit.
Stopping at the front of room, she was greeted by Pastor Thompson. As Margaret looked around at her surrounding family and friends, she realized nothing could be more wonderful than that moment.
“Today, we come together to celebrate the long-awaited, blessed, and sacred union of Cortland Westcott and Margaret Learingam. We all saw the connection between the two of you when we were on the trail together and knew it was only a matter of time before Cort made you his wife.” Pastor Thompson smiled at the two of them and gently patted Cort on the back. “It might have taken you longer than you expected to get her to consent, but you finally did it.” Everyone in the room laughed at the unusual courtship of the couple.
“The two of you have chosen to join yourselves in the spiritual bond of holy matrimony. This is not something to enter into lightly. The commitment you make here today will bind you together forever, causing the two of you to be one for all eternity. The vows you will take today mean that no matter what may come into your lives, you will stand firm in your promises to each other and to God. Please face each other as you take your vows. Do you, Cort, promise to honor and love Margaret until death separates you?”
Cort squeezed Margaret’s hands as he said, “I do.”
“And do you, Margaret, promise to honor and love Cort until death separates you?”
“I do.”
“Now that you have promised yourselves unto each other, it is time to bestow upon one another a symbol of the commitment you have chosen to make. Cort, as you place your ring upon Margaret’s finger, please repeat after me.” He paused, allowing Cort time to pull the ring from his pocket, and then continued, “With this ring, I promise my love and fidelity before the eyes of the Lord.”
Margaret took her ring from Jackie and placed it on Cort’s finger and repeated the same promise.
“With the blessing of God and before the eyes of man, I now pronounce you man and wife.”
The newly married couple, turned to face the assembled guests and everyone began to clap and cheer for them as they stood side-by-side, hand-in-hand.
“Cort, you may now kiss your bride,” Pastor Thompson proclaimed.
Turning to face each other, Margaret looked deep into Cort’s memorizing hazel eyes. She knew marrying him was the best decision of her life and she could depend on him for anything.
As Cort bent down to kiss Margaret, for the first time since she could remember, she felt protected, safe, and secure. But most of all, she felt unconditional love.
After dinner with their guests, Margaret and Cort excitedly rushed into their wedding night.
Margaret grabbed Cort’s arms with both hands, exclaiming, “We are married. I can hardly believe we did it.”
“It feels amazing, does it not?”
“Yes, astounding.”
As she entered into their suite at the inn, she stopped in her tracks as she looked around the room in awe.
The room was filled with fresh flowers in several arrangements around the room, amongst lit candles, casting a soft, romantic glow.
“Did you arrange all of this?”
“I wanted tonight to be special. After all you have been through, you deserve it.”
“Just when I think you cannot treat me any better, you do something like this.”
“I take it, you like it then?”
“Like it, I love it, Cort.” As she turned to look at him, she added, “And I love you.”
“I love you too, Margaret.”
He pulled her into his arms and stared into her eyes for several moments. Then slowly, he leaned down and took her lips with his own. Margaret leaned into his embrace and sighed softly.
“I love you so much, Margaret.” He brushed a few of her tendrils back that had fallen into her face as he smiled down at his wife with love and admiration.
Margaret beamed at the freshly built homestead in front of her before rushing forward, pulling Henry behind her. “It is beautiful, Cort.”
Cort smiled with pride. “The house turned out better than I had imagined. I added a few features to the old place, like a storm cellar inside the house in case of Indian raids.”
“Do we really have to worry about that?”
“Unfortunately, it is a part of frontier life. We always have to be prepared for it.”
“I trust you, Cort. You know best.”
“I am sorry we could not move in sooner, but they were still rebuilding it when we arrived in Boulder.”
It had been
a month since their wedding day, and they had spent the time living in the hotel in Boulder. It had been adequate but did not help them feel like they could plant roots.
“Mummy, this where we live?”
Margaret looked down at her son. “Yes, this is going to be our new home.”
Cort came up behind them and put his arm around his wife, resting his other hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Do you like the place, Henry?”
The boy answered Cort candidly. “It smaller than old house.”
“Not surprising, but I think you will come to love it.”
Henry did not reply, but instead opted to let go of his mother’s hand and wander onto the porch. Cort turned his attention to his wife and smiled. “I think we will be very happy here.”
“I think so too.”
“Follow me, wife. I want to show you the part of our home you will be most interested in seeing.”
“Where might that be, dear husband?”
“The stables, of course.”
Margaret clasped her hands together in excitement. “I cannot wait.”
As they made their way over to the stables, Cort explained that the structures surrounding the house had survived without catching fire when the Indians attacked.
When they arrived, Margaret heard several sets of hooves kicking in the dirt as well as horses neighing.
In the first stall was Chester, her wedding present from Cort, and in the next stall was Charlie. Both horses seemed to be content in their home. Margaret reached out and rubbed Chester’s muzzle and the horse nickered in pleasure. “You are a good boy. Yes, you are, Chester. You are the best present ever.”
Next to him, Margaret heard Charlie whine in protest. She moved over to stand in front of her jealous mare. “Now, Charlie, you need not be upset. You know you will always be my number one girl.” She rubbed Charlie’s crest as she hummed soothingly to her.