Charlotte Louise Dolan (4 page)

She smiled at his loyalty, but dismissed his optimism as wishful thinking. “I am not repining or suffering from a broken heart, I assure you. Apparently my feelings for Simon were not as deep as I had believed. So, be patient, dear brother, until we are home in Oakhaven, and you shall see how nicely I settle in, and then you, too, can feel easy in your mind.”

What his reply would have been she was never to find out, because Dorie burst into the room without ceremony. “Oh, Beth, the captain has come to call on you, but Mama has turned him away this time and told him never to darken her door again.”

Like a shot, Nicholas flew out of the room, and Elizabeth could hear the thumps as he took the stairs two at a time.

Not more than five minutes later her aunt appeared in the doorway of the bedroom, a rather disgruntled expression on her face. “Your brother insists that that dreadful man be allowed to see you again. I should think he would realize he is not welcome in this house, and have the common courtesy to stay away. Be that as it may, your brother has put him in the study, and I hope you may not dawdle in sending him about his business.”

Elizabeth tried to calm the too-rapid beating of her heart. No matter what her brother had attempted, Captain St. John could not possibly have come to make her an offer in form.

Even so, she rang for Maggie to come fix her hair and then hurriedly retrieved her new lime-green morning dress from the pile of clothes on the bed.

* * * *

The captain was not wearing his regimentals today. Elizabeth’s first thought when she joined him in the study was that, in his case, clothes did not make the man because he appeared just as formidable—just as hard and unbending—in the nut-brown coat and fawn-colored unmentionables he was wearing as he had in his scarlet uniform.

“I want you to know,” she began as soon as she had seated herself in the leather chair by the French doors, “that I had no knowledge of what my brother was about, nor would I have given him permission to approach you, had I known what he intended to do.”

“I had assumed that to be the case. In spite of his efforts to coerce me into offering for you, I am here on my own volition.”

Elizabeth felt herself relax. The captain had not come to make her an offer, after all.

“Miss Goldsborough, will you do me the honor to be my wife?”

She was too stunned at first to think clearly, but then she remembered her manners. “Will you give me a moment to think about this?”

He nodded, then turned his back on her and gazed out the French doors.

The humor of the situation struck her, and Elizabeth was hard-put not to smile. This had to be the most unique proposal she had ever received—and she had received many, all of them accompanied by expressions of extreme devotion and undying passion. She had frequently wished her father had provided her with a strict guardian, someone who would have kept importunate suitors from casting themselves at her feet.

But her father had seen fit to appoint his lawyer, Mr. Peabody, to look after her financial affairs, and her aunt to be the guardian of her person. Aunt Theo had been useless when it came to discouraging any suitor, no matter how impossible, and Nicholas had been too young to be taken seriously, although he had tried to stand between her and the more dramatic of her swains.

Now she was seriously considering marrying a man who did not appear to be even interested in her, much less passionately in love with her.

“Captain St. John?”

He turned back from the window.

“Won’t you be seated? Before I can reach a decision, I must be clear in my mind as to what the situation is.”

He sat down in the chair facing hers. “Your brother has explained to me that you desire to have a family.”

“I also need to know if you ... what your desires are. Do you wish for this marriage?”

“No,” he replied bluntly, meeting her gaze. “If it is honesty you seek, then I must admit that I have no desire to be married. I am a soldier. I have every intention of remaining a soldier. I much doubt that I have the qualities required in a husband, nor do I have any intention of trying to change.”

“What ... what would you require of a wife?”

“I have no requirements, since I have never before considered the possibility of acquiring a wife.”

“Then why have you proposed to me?”

“As I said, your brother has told me you wish to have children. Since I am at least in part responsible for your present situation, I am willing to marry you and fulfill the responsibilities of a husband. I am not rich, but I have an easy competence from my father, so you will not have to manage on a captain’s pay.”

She had no choice but to refuse. She had not been able to force Simon into a repugnant marriage, nor could she force this man to do something he found distasteful.

Then she realized the captain was staring directly at her face with no sign of aversion. Perhaps she could marry a man who could tolerate looking at her scar, even if his affections were not at all engaged. There was very little possibility, after all, that any man would ever again declare his undying passion for her. Would not toleration be acceptable? Especially since the only alternative was to remain a childless spinster?

Instead of declining his offer, she asked another question. “Does it bother you that ... that I am disfigured?”

“I am a soldier,” he replied, as if that said it all. And perhaps it did.

This was not the husband she had dreamed of as a young girl, nor the husband she had thought she would be marrying at the end of the summer. But this was, perhaps, a man she could live with. His honesty and willingness to speak openly gave him a strength she felt she could depend on. And as Nicholas had pointed out, there was no other solution.

“Then, Captain St. John, I accept your proposal.”

He stood up and offered her his hand. “Shall we inform your aunt?”

She placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her out of the room. She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror over the fireplace and marveled at how calm she looked.

Inside, she was trembling with reaction, and not at all sure she had done the right thing.

Captain St. John earned her gratitude when they joined the rest of the family in the drawing room, by taking upon himself the task, which was at this moment totally beyond her, of informing the others of his offer and her acceptance.

Her brother looked relieved, but her aunt’s about-face in regards to “that dreadful captain” was a surprise to Elizabeth, although it should not have been. She had known from the beginning that two Seasons were all she could rightfully expect. Although Aunt Theo had never said anything directly, Elizabeth knew it was expected that she be settled at the end of this, her second Season, because next year Florie was to be presented.

“So, my dear Captain, when is the wedding to be?” Aunt Theo was positively cooing.

“I have brought a special license with me, so we can be married tomorrow.”

That was too much even for Aunt Theo to swallow. “But, my dear boy, such haste is unseemly.”

“I am in daily expectation of being ordered to rejoin my regiment in Spain,” he replied.

There was a dead silence in the room. Elizabeth could see the dawning realization on all their faces, that a delay might mean the bridegroom would go prematurely to his heavenly reward, leaving the bride at the altar, so to speak.

No one actually came right out and said, “Better a widow than a spinster,” but they might as well have, thought Elizabeth, for it was obviously what was in everyone’s mind when her aunt at once agreed that tomorrow was perhaps the best day, after all.

For the first time Elizabeth realized she was marrying not simply a man, but a soldier. Did she have sufficient courage to live from day to day, never knowing for sure if she was a widow or a wife?

Unlike her aunt, Elizabeth was not given to having the vapors and did not consider herself to be of a nervous disposition. But she felt ragged with tension as the evening dragged on, and was relieved when the captain took his leave and departed for the Barking Dog, where he had prudently bespoken rooms, and she was finally free to seek the solitude of her own room.

Elizabeth was in her nightgown, brushing out her hair, when Dorie slipped into the room and joined her. They sat side by side on the bed and talked, as was their habit before retiring for the night.

“Oh, Beth, I like the captain so much better than Simon.”

Elizabeth smiled at her cousin. “And how have you reached that decision? You just met him this evening.”

“Oh, no, I met him the day of the accident. He carried you up to the house, and he knew just what had to be done.” She giggled. “That other man with him looked positively green, you know, and Florie was being so theatrical—I think she is practicing to be like Mama. But the captain just ignored Mama’s vapors and started barking out orders, and the servants jumped to do his bidding. Even the doctor did. You know how Doctor Warrington always insists on bleeding his patients, no matter what their complaint? Well, the captain just gave him a stern look and told him quite firmly that that was not necessary, and the doctor immediately put his instruments away, without the least protest. It’s too bad you missed it. It was vastly amusing.”

“Well, I’m certainly glad you approve of him, since he will be your cousin-in-law.”

“Oh, but that’s not why I like him better than Simon. It’s because Simon always used to look right through me, as if I weren’t there. Once, when he having tea with us, I even pinched myself, just to be sure I hadn’t disappeared. But the captain looks me right in the eye, as if I’m a real person.”

“Of course you’re a real person, and I love you very much.”

Dorie reached out and gently touched the scar. “Does it hurt terribly?”

“No, but sometimes it itches enough to drive me to distraction.”

“Then I’ll kiss it and make it better.” Dorie leaned over and placed a very soft kiss right on the scar, then threw her arms around her cousin’s neck and hugged her. “Oh, Beth, I wish I could go to Oakhaven with you. I’d give you a kiss every day, and then that scar would just have to go away.”

Elizabeth hugged her back. “Don’t be upset, my dear. I know I’m not beautiful anymore, but I am truly not unhappy.”

Dorie pulled away and said fiercely, “Well, I think you’re still the most beautiful person in the world.” Her lower lip was pushed out, and there was a familiar stubborn look in her eye. “And anyone who can’t look past the scar is stupid.”

Her cousin was sweet, Elizabeth thought, but too young to know just how important physical perfection was to men. While a girl might be warm and loving and have all the right attributes to be a good wife and mother, if she had a squint or a stammer or if her teeth or nose were too prominent, then the chances were good that she would use those sterling qualities helping with some other woman’s children and household.

She had escaped that fate for herself, but how high a price would she be expected to pay? What did she know about this Captain St. John, after all?

In spite of her fatigue, Elizabeth slept not at all that night. She could not stop herself from wondering over and over if she was doing the right thing.

The next day dawned bright and sunny, with just enough breeze to be comfortable. It was not the wedding day she had planned, which was to have been in St. George’s in London. The ceremony was held, instead, in the village church, with only the immediate family in attendance. Under other circumstances, it would have been normal to invite the entire congregation, but in this case, Elizabeth was more than content to avoid the prying eyes of the curious.

Since her wedding dress was not even cut out yet, she wore a new gown from her trousseau—pale yellow silk with tiny red rosebuds embroidered around the neckline and hem. The captain wore his uniform, and she rather thought he outshone even herself as the bride.

Nicholas stood up with the captain, and she had Florie for her only attendant, and perhaps because of the sleepless night, everything seemed distorted and unreal to Elizabeth, until the captain took her hand in his and slid a large signet ring on her finger. After that, she could not concentrate on the formal promises he was making, and her own responses to the vicar’s questions were purely automatic. Her whole attention was absorbed by the ring, whose dark, medieval design stood out in shocking contrast to her pale skin.

She felt a growing panic, a desperate need to flee from everyone around her and hide. But then the ceremony was over, and the man beside her lifted her veil and bent and touched his lips gently to hers. When the others crowded around offering their congratulations, the feeling of strangeness drained away, leaving her with nothing but a bone-deep weariness, She was grateful for the support of the captain’s arm when they left the church and returned to her aunt’s house.

It was only during luncheon when something happened that brought home to her that she was married, that the captain was now her husband. Her aunt mentioned the impending trip to Somerset, and the captain’s response made Elizabeth realize she no longer had the ordering of her own affairs. She had given that right to the man who was now sitting beside her.

“We are not going directly to Oakhaven,” her new husband stated quite calmly, not appearing to notice that his remark had instantly made him the center of attention. “My cousin is getting married a week from today in London, and I wish us to attend the wedding. After it is over, I shall escort Elizabeth to Oakhaven, assuming my orders have not come through.”

“Who is your cousin?” Dorie blurted out, and immediately received a scold from her mother for her impertinence.

The captain smiled at her, however, with what appeared to Elizabeth to be genuine affection. “The Duke of Colthurst, but Cousin Algernon’s a nice enough fellow, for all that he’s a duke.”

Aunt Theo recovered her wits first. “Are you saying that the Duke of Colthurst is your cousin?”

At his nod, she proceeded to interrogate him until she finally pried out of him that not only was he the duke’s second cousin, but also his heir.