Read Storm at Marshbay Online

Authors: Clara Wimberly

Tags: #Mainstream Romance: Horror, Suspense, Gothic Romance

Storm at Marshbay (2 page)

BOOK: Storm at Marshbay
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I entered a sunroom, now cool and serene, filled with potted palms and baskets of marsh rushes and sea lavender. This room opened onto a vast open courtyard that looked to be surrounded by the house.

My gaze was drawn to a large fountain in the center of the courtyard, weathered to a rich patina as it sprayed water on bronzed laughing figures of children. Multi-colored lanterns sparkled among the tall, symmetrically placed Sabal palms surrounded by native plants and brilliant hibiscus. Small round tables covered with white linens and lit with lamps sat about the courtyard.  Guests gathered about the area, laughing and talking, while the aroma of expensive perfumes mingled with the scent of candles and flowers and the salty sea.

I stood transfixed, looking out into this courtyard filled with people, while above us the sky turned dark and the first sprinkle of stars appeared.  This was a world I’d never experienced and it simply took my breath away.

“Miss Brady?”

I turned to see an older gentleman dressed in formal attire and wearing white gloves. “Come this way please,” he said. “The family is expecting you.”

 I noticed several people at the top of the marble steps that led down to the courtyard— a tall, slender older woman wearing a black beaded gown spoke with another couple. Next to her stood a tall, dark-haired man staring straight at me. His bold gaze made me feel disconcerted and self-conscious.

Nervously, I pushed back errant wisps of hair that tumbled about my face and hoped I didn’t look like the wayward swamp girl I felt I was.

“Miss Isabella Brady,” the butler announced to the guests, leading me to the group on the stairs. I don’t know how I managed to follow him.

I found myself staring into the eyes of the man who had been watching me. He was one of the most handsome, dashing men I’d ever seen, and his cool gaze made me blush and become even more unsure of myself.

His look held both amusement and arrogance as he studied me, his gaze moving from the top of my wayward locks to the toes of my new satin slippers peeking from beneath my gown. I was so caught up in his appraisal of me that I was hardly aware of the others staring at me, too. There was something intimidating about him, a mysterious, hidden element. Was that what made my heart beat faster...that made my skin tingle?

I bit back a gasp when he reached and took my hand, drawing me closer. His touch seemed warm and familiar.  Intimate somehow.  He smelled of spices and soap, an exotic mixture I couldn’t name.  He pulled me toward the older woman in black, who I assumed to be Mrs. Fitzgerald.

“Miss Brady,” she said. Her lip curled slightly when she pronounced my name. Her voice held the slightest trace of an English accent, yet it also was tinged with the softness of the south. She made me feel even more like I didn’t belong there. I felt judged and measured. For what?

It was very uncomfortable but my curiosity outweighed my wish to flee.

“How do you do?” I said, somehow managing a polite smile.

“We’re doing very well, Miss Brady,” she said. “May I introduce my son, Ian Fitzgerald.

I glanced sidelong at the man beside me, who still held my hand.

His smile seemed a little friendlier than his mother’s.

I nodded. “Mr. Fitzgerald.”

“Please,” he replied. “You must call me Ian.”

“And this is my younger son James and his wife Edna,” she continued.

They were the couple I had seen Mrs. Fitzgerald talking to earlier. Edna was a pretty girl with blonde curly hair, and clear gray eyes. She was probably older than she looked but she seemed very young. She smiled at me so sweetly but I wondered if she’d once been just as uneasy, facing this family for the first time as I was.

James was a handsome young man, though he seemed shy and reserved.  His gaze hardly met mine as he stepped forward, took my hand and bowed, then stepped back stiffly.

“We’re all so glad you came, ” Mrs. Fitzgerald said. Her words were friendly and welcoming enough, yet her look was still cool and she seemed very detached.

“Thank you,” I said. “I was honored by your invitation. But I’ll admit I was surprised as well.”

 “Surprised? You do know why you’re here, don’t you?”

“Not entirely. Something about a wager of my father’s. But I— ”

“Your mother was to speak to you about this matter before you came,” she said, frowning. “I hope you understand the importance of the position you will hold in this family.”

Position
?  Had I guessed correctly that I would be offered a job at Marshbay? Still, she’d said “family,” which confused me. “Yes, my mother did speak to me about that, but— ”

“And you agreed?” she asked. “Well, obviously you must have, or you wouldn’t be here wearing the dress we sent you. It looks lovely on you, Miss Brady.”

I blushed, feeling a bit embarrassed.
They
had supplied the dress? Another thing my mother hadn’t mentioned.

The intensity of her gaze reminded me of the promise Mother had begged of me:
Anything…any suggestion they make to you as to your future welfare, you will agree. Do you promise me that?

I had done so. How could I have refused? She was dreadfully ill and, with Father gone, our circumstances were not good.

“Yes,” I said to Mrs. Fitzgerald. “I did— I do agree.”

“Good.” She smiled sincerely at last. “Very good.” She glanced across at her son and gave him a self-satisfied look. “If you have no objections Ian, you can make the announcement.”

His eyes met mine with what I thought was a flash of curiosity. He seemed to be studying me. Trying to decide what I might be thinking. 

“Looking at Miss Brady, I’d be a fool to object,” he said.

I couldn’t imagine what he meant nor could I explain the knowing way he looked at me.

“Jasper,” she called, and the male servant who had brought me to them came forward.  “We’re ready.”

“Make an announcement?” I asked. It had begun to dawn on me that whatever this might be about it had to be more than a household position.

“Is it too soon?” Ian asked me, his gaze serious.

I hesitated,  uncertain how to answer him. Too soon for what?

Jasper stepped forward and rang a small bell, the sound of it drifting out over the crowd in the courtyard. Guests turned toward the steps where I stood uncertainly between Ian and his mother, with James and Edna off to the side.

Ian pulled my hand tightly against his side. Oddly that gesture made me feel safe and I found myself not wanting to let go of his arm. Despite that his touch and my uncertainty left me weak and trembling.  And I had a feeling he knew that and even enjoyed it.

I’d been thrust into this bizarre situation with no preparation, expected to dress and act as these people did. Yet I had no idea what was going on. Ian moved forward, pulling me with him.

“Friends and family,” he began, his voice deep and solemn. “Guests and neighbors. We’re so happy you could be here tonight and I’m sure you’re as anxious as we are for dinner to be served. But first, I have a very important and happy announcement.”

Despite his easy grace and charm, I was overwhelmed with misgivings. What now?

“It is my pleasure to introduce you to Miss Isabella Brady,” he said. “Who has just consented to become my wife.”

A loud gasp went up from the crowd, covering my own. Then came a smattering of applause and the lifting of champagne glasses while I tried to make sense of what I’d heard.

My heart was pounding and I swayed toward him. Ian’s grip on my hand was all that kept me on my feet; I stared at him, speechless, for long moments.

“What?” I muttered, through trembling lips. “What are you saying?”

He turned to look at me, his eyes warm and captivating. Then they turned dark as he frowned down at me.

 “Good God,” he murmured, looking at his mother, then back at me. “She didn’t know. You have no idea, do you?”

“Know?  Know what?”

Quickly he turned me around, still holding my hand and arm close to his side. “Mother,” he whispered as we passed her. “Have dinner served.  I’m taking Isabella into the study. You and I will talk about this later.”

“I’ll come with you,” she said.

“No,” he snapped. “I’ll handle it, as I should have done from the beginning. See to the guests.”

“I— I feel faint,” I murmured as I held onto him and tried to keep pace with his long strides.

“You will not faint,” he said. “We will walk up the stairs as if everything is perfectly normal. We’ll go into the study, you will sit down and have some wine and you will be fine. Good God, I should have known that a girl like you would have no idea how to handle such a situation.”

His remark struck me as a bit condescending. I felt he saw me only as a weak, stupid girl.

“For your information, sir, it’s true I don’t have your education or your wealth. I might be naïve about your kind of life and I admit I’m sometimes too trusting, but I am
not
stupid. I was misled about this— this so-called
marriage
. I had no idea that was the reason I was coming here tonight.”

“Then tell me why you thought you were coming?” The concern in his voice should have given me confidence, but it didn’t.

“My mother told me I would have a position in the house— an important position.”

He laughed aloud.

“Poor choice of words on her part. But I suppose I should be flattered that she thought marriage to me was an important position.”

“Don’t you dare mock her,” I cried.  “My mother is quite ill. She’s— she’s dying and…” Suddenly it was too much. I felt ignorant and used. I felt sad for Mother. I felt ashamed. I swore to myself I would not cry in front of this man. When I felt tears burning my eyes, I turned and started to leave the room.

He caught me at the door, and pulled me back inside.

“Wait,” he said. “I’m sorry. Perhaps I’ve misjudged the situation. I thought you knew everything. I thought— well, obviously I was mistaken about what I thought. Sit here please, just for a moment. You’re very pale. Have you had anything to eat?”

“I— I don’t remember. I think I was far too anxious to eat.”

He went to the door, opened it and spoke to someone in the hallway. “Bring some wine and a tray of sandwiches,” he said.

Retuning, he sat beside me on the small settee. When I moved away from him, he laughed. “I won’t bite you, Miss Brady. Nor do I intend to try and seduce you.  If you will allow me to start from the beginning, perhaps we can figure out where things went wrong.”

I wiped my eyes and waited for his explanation. If it could be explained.

“Your father had something my father wanted. Which brought about the poker game and the wager. Your father owned much of the marshland, and my father wanted it to ensure our privacy. Apparently your father considered the land essentially worthless.” 

“Not to me! The marshland means everything to me. It’s my home, where I grew up.  I love it and I cannot imagine living anywhere else.”

“I meant as far as monetary value goes. Your father was happy to sell land he didn’t value to a man who wanted it, and he drove a shrewd bargain. He must have cared about you and your future to have insisted that you be a part of the bargain if my father hoped to have the marsh.”

I sat at up stiff and straight. “Are you saying my father is the one who insisted I marry you? And your father agreed?” I found that unbelievable. Incredible. “This is America. We’re hardly European nobility entering into an  arranged marriage.”

“America or not, they both agreed to the bargain.” He stood up and walked to the fireplace, leaning against it and gazing at me. “Your father insisted that you marry James or me.”

I could not believe my ears. “My father insisted that I marry you or your brother? Oh I see— you drew straws and you lost.” I didn’t try to contain my sarcasm.

His head came up and his eyes turned cold. “If you knew me better, Miss Brady,” he said, his words slow and deliberate, “you would know that I never lose at anything.  James and Edna fell in love and were married. I am the single one, therefore I am the one left to fulfill my father’s commitment.”

“Why have you never married?” I asked.

“I didn’t say I never married, I said I am single. Perhaps I should have said I’m a widower.  My wife died in an accident two years ago.”

“Oh, I— I’m sorry.” Tears formed in my eyes again.   I felt confused and embarrassed and I didn’t like apologizing for something I hadn’t known about
.
I hated the entire situation and at the moment I only wanted away from Marshbay. Away from Ian Fitzgerald and his smug gaze. Away from the craziness of it all.

“I don’t understand,” I said.  “You and James were both married, so how –“

“You’re right, it is confusing,” he said.  “I’ll be perfectly honest with you.”  His voice was steady and his gaze direct as he explained.  “When your father passed away I don’t think my father ever intended to keep the bargain he made.  He viewed it as a friendly card game and both of them were drinking heavily.  He could find some other way to get the land he wanted.  Perhaps he would have forgotten it.  But when Jacob Brady died, my father received a letter from a lawyer reminding him of the bargain he made
and signed
and pointed out the pact was legal and binding.  But as you adeptly recognized, my brother and I were both married at the time so there was nothing to be done.”

“It was later, some months after Marguerite, my wife, died, that father’s health began to deteriorate. He became despondent, and obsessed with putting his affairs in order. Apparently that included obtaining the marshland. He mentioned the bargain to me several times, and I ignored it. But he was relentless when he wanted something, and when he passed away, he left a stipulation in the will that if I was still single, it was his wish that I marry you and acquire the land promised the Fitzgerald family.

He smiled wryly.  “I wasn’t at all certain I would agree …until I saw you tonight.”

“Really?” I asked.  “You expect me to believe that?”

“I don’t particularly care whether you believe it or not.  But it’s the truth.”  He smiled. He seemed to enjoy this little cat and mouse game. “Besides, what do you have to lose? Perhaps there are other prospects?”

BOOK: Storm at Marshbay
6.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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