Beth grumbled, “This is not a marriage of affection, remember? I have to keep to the restrictions Monty set.”
“What restrictions?” Lily demanded. “Why can’t your marriage become something else? There are two people in this marriage, not one, and you have every right to make it whatever you like. It might not have started as a marriage of affection, but it can certainly be a marriage of attraction.” Her expression softened, and she smiled at Beth gently. “Stop defending against him, Beth. Just be yourself, and Monty will be himself, and eventually, the two of you will find a way.”
“As long as I can retain my sanity, that sounds lovely,” Beth quipped, hiding the emotion swirling within her. She would’ve loved to have had her marriage become more than it was, for her husband to see her as more, and to be able to know him the way she felt a wife should. The dream of being comfortable when he was near, of seeing him look at her with desire and affection, all seemed nearly impossible. But she loved his children, and she had gained more in this marriage than she’d ever imagined she would.
Surely, she could manage to take an active role in this marriage rather than a submissive one. She’d been practicing independence and confidence while he’d been away, mostly for the sake of the children and the running of the estate. It should not be too difficult to apply it further now that he was here. She didn’t want her attraction towards her husband to fade; she wanted to enhance it and see where it might lead.
What if she did come to know the man beneath the façade and her worries came to fruition? She was not as silly as she had described to Lily, which Lily knew full well, and she could certainly manage her own life and behavior.
Her husband, on the other hand… there was no managing him.
Unfortunately.
“My lady,” called the voice of Mrs. Franklin, sounding a little panicked.
Beth and Lily both turned towards the open door. “In here, Mrs. Franklin.”
The older woman appeared in the doorway, her hair slightly unkempt, which should have given Beth enough cause for alarm, as Mrs. Franklin’s hair was always pristine. Her dark eyes were wide, and the faint lines on her face were suddenly stark.
“My lady, I cannot find Master Archer,” Mrs. Franklin panted.
Both ladies shot to their feet. “What?” they cried as one.
Tears were welling in Mrs. Franklin’s eyes, and she sniffed loudly. “He said he needed to fetch a book and didn’t come back. I’ve looked everywhere, and I cannot find him.”
Beth came to her at once, steadying the nanny’s trembling arms. “What has he been speaking of today? Anything in particular?”
She nodded frantically. “He’s been talking of when you took him to explore the grounds. Nothing specific about it, just that he wished he could do so again.”
Beth’s heart leapt to her throat, and she bolted from the room. “Lily, get Monty! Tell him I’ve gone to the stables!”
She didn’t wait to see if her friend listened as she raced out to the terrace, then around the side of the house for the stables, her legs pumping frantically beneath her skirts.
The stable hands were surprised by her sudden appearance but quickly heeded her barked orders to prepare a horse for her and one for the earl, as well as two for themselves. She didn’t wait for one of them to help her as she smoothly mounted her own horse and gathered up the reigns for Malcolm’s. She didn’t get far out of the stables before Malcolm arrived on the run, and she tossed his reigns to him as he mounted.
“Where would he go?” he demanded.
“We stayed away from the water,” she told him as she urged her horse to move. “He loved the rocks and the ravines, but we didn’t get near the one to the south. We only went east. If he stays in familiar territory, I believe that’s where he’ll go.” Beth shook her head as her emotions began to catch up with her. “Monty, I…”
“Not now,” he ordered, his jaw set and his eyes cold. “Not now.” He kicked his heels, and his horse took off, leaving Beth no course but to follow.
There was no sign of Archer as they galloped off towards their exploration area, and Malcolm said nothing as they rode on. He directed the two stable hands to go to the south, while the stable master, having chosen to follow despite orders, kept with Beth and Malcolm to the east. They called out for Archer repeatedly, but there was no response.
Beth could barely manage to breathe as she rode, fearing that her impulsive adventure with her oldest stepson might have been too much, trying too hard. Had she led her husband’s son into danger? Was all this her fault? What if he…?
She couldn’t let herself think that way. Archer was a smart lad, curious by nature, but hardly reckless. They had been very careful in their outing the other day, and he had been more mindful of her than she had of him. He would be well and whole, he was simply being an incorrigible, curious boy.
Beth veered off as they came near a series of rocks near a deep crevice in the ground, one she recognized from the day before and one that Archer had been particularly fascinated with. She dismounted and began climbing the rocks, crawling bare-handed over the rough surfaces.
“Elizabeth!” Malcolm roared, his voice ringing with fury.
Beth ignored him as she continued, wondering if Archer had come back to the formations he’d found so enthralling before. She heard horse hooves nearing her.
“Elizabeth, do not injure yourself. Get back on your horse!” Malcolm ordered again, his voice much closer.
Perching herself atop her current boulder, she turned to glare over her shoulder. “Do not shout at me, my lord, when I’m searching for your son!” she bellowed, her voice matching his in irritation.
Malcolm’s expression changed to one of shock, no doubt surprised that his wife would snap at him in such a way. His mouth twitched a little, and for a moment, Beth wondered if he might smile. But he did not, and only dipped his chin.
“Archer!” Beth called, scanning the rocks and peering down into the ravine for good measure. It wasn’t too far down, thankfully, but it would still be enough to injure Archer if he had fallen.
“Bitsy?”
She whirled, nearly losing her balance and crouching to keep from falling. “Archer!” she called again, scanning the rocks.
“Bitsy, I’m over here!” his young voice called.
Beth scrambled from the rock towards a few others further down. “Monty!” she shouted over her shoulder. “He’s here!” She raced forward, looking around every rock and outcropping. “Archer!”
He suddenly appeared as she rounded a granite boulder, sitting on the ground and holding his ankle. His face bore the stains of tears, but he smiled at her nervously.
“Don’t be angry,” he whimpered.
Tears obscured Beth’s vision as she shook her head and moved to him. “I’ll be angry much, much later,” she managed, sinking to the ground and pulling him into her arms. “Right now, I am only relieved you are safe.”
Archer sniffled and burrowed against her. “I wanted to come and see the rocks again. I was climbing and being careful like we talked about, and then my foot slipped, and I hurt my ankle. I think I can walk back, but it will hurt.”
Beth exhaled slowly, willing her tears away even as two fell down her cheeks. She kissed Archer’s hair and then pulled back to smile at him. “You don’t need to walk back. Your father and I rode horses.”
“Papa’s here?” Archer said, his eyes widening. “He’s going to be so upset.”
Beth opened her mouth to protest when Monty appeared, looking more unkempt than Beth had ever seen him. He stared at his son with wide eyes, which darted over every feature. Beth saw his throat work on a swallow and bit her lip, praying he would act with the concern she could clearly see in him.
Archer pushed off from Beth gently and stood, shaking slightly before his father.
Malcolm exhaled a short breath and walked over to his son, pulling him roughly to his chest.
Beth closed her eyes on a silent sigh of r
elief, then opened them again to watch the interaction between worried father and frightened child.
“Are you all right, son?” Malcolm asked gruffly, still holding tight.
Archer nodded against him. “I’m sorry, Papa.”
“You’ll need to make your apologies to Mrs. Franklin. And to your stepmother. She would never have shown you this place if she knew you would have come back alone.” Malcolm met Beth’s eyes with a short nod.
Beth allowed herself a small smile and got to her feet, standing apart from them still.
“I’m sorry, Bitsy,” Archer murmured, sounding teary again as he looked at her.
“You’re forgiven, Archer,” she replied, smiling more. “Shall we take you back home and call for the doctor about your ankle?”
Malcolm’s brow furrowed with the question, but Beth shook her head slightly. He looked down at the boy and ran a hand over his hair. “Can you walk to the horse?”
“Yes, Papa,” Archer said bravely, wiping at his nose.
Malcolm nodded, then steered Archer towards the horses. They had only gone a few steps when Malcolm noticed the way Archer limped. Lifting him up without a word, he glanced back at Beth. She watched them fondly despite the fear and worry they’d felt. He nodded at her again, his eyes showing a remarkable level of understanding. Whatever Malcolm’s faults, whatever his aloofness, there was a depth of love and devotion to his children that was now plainly evident.
Seeing his response to Archer’s disappearance, and to finding him once more, made Beth’s heart lighten. Perhaps there was hope for him after all.
And if there was hope for him, there just might be hope for them.
But only time would tell.
Chapter Eleven
Beth could not sleep. By all accounts, she ought to have been quite soundly asleep by now. She was certainly exhausted enough by the events of the day.
Their harrowing experience racing after Archer had been resolved. Dr. Durham had pronounced only a mild sprain and recommended bed rest and tarts, to his patient’s delight. Beth and Malcolm had changed to prepare for their party and receive their guests. All of the invitations had been accepted, and it was destined to be quite the evening. Though she had suggested putting off the affair, given what they had endured, Malcolm would not hear of it. He’d claimed it was high time to show off his wife and let the neighborhood have the opportunity to meet her.
Beth smiled as she recalled the perplexed look Malcolm had worn when he’d escorted her about the great hall to meet everyone only to discover that she and the women were already acquainted. Each had asked after something particular that they could only have known had they spent time together.
After the fourth time, he’d steered her away and muttered, “Do you already know everyone in this room?”
She’d dimpled a mischievous smile at him and quipped, “Of course not, Monty. I only know the women.”
Again, he’d seemed torn between laughter and irritation, but he’d not asked about it any further and had only taken her to the other side of the room.
Poor man. She really did not need him to lead her about so gently, as though she might break like a porcelain dish. She was quite capable enough to mind her own affairs, no matter how young or naïve she might appear.
Still, it had been delightful to be paraded on his arm most of the evening. They had not had dancing, much to Beth’s disappointment, but the conversation had been enjoyable all the same. They were fortunate in their neighbors, and all seemed to like Malcolm a great deal. He was a bit harder to discern, but she did detect an underlying respect in return.
Her favorite moments of the evening, however, had been the first and the last. When she had descended the stairs to him before the guests had arrived, he had turned and bestowed a look of awe upon her in a manner she had never seen before. She had worn one of her new gowns as Lily had advised, as the colors heightened her looks considerably. The pale periwinkle silk with sheer sleeves and lace detailing made her feel elegant and graceful, and the sapphire necklace and earrings only added to the grace of her station, which she was coming to enjoy quite a great deal.
Malcolm had stared at her in an almost brazen fashion before recovering himself and complimenting her with the utmost politeness, but Beth had heard Lily’s words echoing in her mind for hours into the evening. She kept wondering if it were entirely possible that her husband found her half as attractive as she found him. Oddly enough, instead of embarrassing her, the thought had been amusing. She had watched him the rest of the evening with interest, and the frequency with which he had looked at her had been something of particular fascination to her. He gazed at her she stared at him, and neither of them seemed to mind it.
What a delightful notion!
As the evening had drawn to a close, Malcolm had smiled at her with a measure of fondness, looking a little impressed, and had praised her for the manner with which she had received their guests and her perfection in playing hostess.
“You don’t mind that I had already met the women?” she’d asked, smiling a little.
He had given her a searching look, the fondness retreating, and then replied, “No, I find I do not. In fact, I should not have been surprised. Next time, I will stand in a corner the entire evening and let you take charge of the whole affair. It seems I was not needed but for the expectation of the neighbors.”
His words had the unsettling dual effect of both lifting her heart and yet chastising her. The praise she would treasure, but the rest…
Of course, he had been needed. He was always needed. But she had not had time to tell him that, as he had turned from her and gone up to his own rooms.
As she now lay in her bed, she wondered if perhaps that might be something she ought to inquire about. Did Malcolm feel that in replacing his late wife, he had also succeeded in replacing himself? Nothing could have been further from the truth, and if he would only open his eyes beyond his pain and grief, he might have been able to see that.
His children absolutely needed him. His tenants would be lost without him. And Beth… Well, she rather thought she needed him, too, though she could not have said to what extent. They had almost seemed a real married couple tonight. She would give a great deal for more opportunities to do the same.
Faintly, a noise reached her ears, and she propped herself up on her elbows, listening again.
“Mama!” a young voice screamed in terror, the words obviously choked with tears even to her ears.
Beth sprang from the bed, not even pausing for a wrap, and bolted out of her bedchamber and down the corridor. The nursery was not too far from her rooms, and if her instincts were correct, that scared voice belonged to her sweet and shy Jane.
“Mama!” the child cried again, her voice loud and heart-piercing in the empty corridor. “MAMA!”
Beth pushed herself faster, then felt her arm being grabbed from behind. Malcolm was suddenly there, his eyes wild, his hair in disarray, his nightshirt hastily shoved into trousers.
“She isn’t calling for you!” he hissed, his grip on her arm tight.
Was he serious? Perhaps there was no hope for him after all. She gave him an utterly incredulous and disparaging look as Jane cried out again. “Do you hear her? She isn’t calling for you, either!”
He seemed startled by her reprimand, a feeling which intensified when she wrenched herself out of his grasp and hurried on to the nursery.
The boys were awake on their side of the darkened room. Archer huddled close to Samuel as helplessly they watched their sister thrash and scream in bed. Greer sat bolt upright, wide-eyed and terrified in her own little bed, but Mrs. Franklin was quick to scoop her up once Beth entered the room.
“It’s all right,” Beth told the other children with a faint smile. “You can go back to sleep.”
Whether they listened or not, she couldn’t say, as she immediately crossed to Jane’s bed, sitting on the mattress and reaching out to brush back Jane’s hair.
“Jane,
it’s all right. It’s all right. Wake up.”
Jane whimpered and thrashed again but did not wake. “Mama,” she moaned weakly.
“Janie,” Beth said more firmly, moving her hands to cup the girl’s face, her thumbs stroking over her tear-stained cheeks. “Wake up, sweetheart. Wake up.”
A wrenching sob tore from the girl’s throat as her eyes fluttered open, then darted around anxiously for her mother. “Mama?”
Beth felt tears sting her eyes as she shook her head. “No, darling. It’s Bitsy.”
Jane’s lower lip quivered dangerously as her eyes met Beth’s. “I dreamed my mama was still here, but I knew she was gone.” Tears fell from the corners of her eyes and started their path down her cheeks. “I wanted her to stay, but she told me she couldn’t. Why couldn’t she stay, Bitsy? I want my mama…” She dissolved into tears that would have melted the coldest of hearts.
Beth moved to climb into bed beside the girl, shushing and soothing her as she pulled her into her arms and held her tightly. “I don’t know, love,” she whispered, closing her eyes and kissing Jane’s hair. “I don’t know, but I know she loved you so much, and she would have stayed if she could.”
The little girl burrowed against her and cried softly, her tears dampening Beth’s linen nightgown. “I miss her so much.”
A faint creaking sound brought Beth’s attention up to see Malcolm leaning against the doorframe, his gaze on them both, his expression as tortured as his daughter’s words.
“I know you do, darling,” Beth murmured, her eyes still on her husband, though he did not see it. “And it is only right that you should.”
Jane sniffled and sighed, resting her cheek against Beth’s chest. “Do you think she misses me, Bitsy?”
Malcolm closed his eyes in agony, and Beth dropped her gaze to the girl in her arms. “I’m sure of it, Jane.” She exhaled softly and tucked Jane under her chin. “Do you know what I do every week?”
She felt Jane shake her head against her with a soft sniffle.
A Tip of the Cap (London League, Book 3) Page 13