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Authors: Karla Darcy

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BOOK: The American Bride
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Sitting up, Julian wrapped his arms around his knees and looked out at the children playing in the water. He smiled and waved at the joyous shouts as they tried to outdo each other in performing for his approval. Sighing Julian turned once more to the pensive girl at his side.

"I was abroad when my brother died. It took some time for the news to reach me and then I did not hurry home as perhaps I should have. My brother and I had been very close when we were growing up. We used to swim in this very spot. As the years passed we grew apart. He was far too interested in women and gambling. Although I like both, for him it was not a hobby as much as it was an obsession."

Cara sat with her hands folded in her lap, watching the play of emotion on Julian's face as he looked back in time. His voice held regret, sorrow and resignation. It was obvious that his words covered a range of soul searching. Cara remained still, not putting into words any thoughts of her own, only curious to hear the remainder of the story.

"I did not return for several months and by that time the children were already installed in my home. I was a confirmed bachelor and will be honest confessing that I resented their presence in what had been a blissfully childless household. I absented myself as much as possible in the first year. Partly from having had little traffic with youngsters and, yes, I will have to admit it, from sheer lack of interest."

At a shout from the water, Julian bounded up and shouted further instructions to Richard. Once this was well in train, he resumed his seat on the shore.

"I was aware of Belin's hands but I had no idea how to deal with it. The only occasion when I could have said something to alleviate the child's embarrassment was ruined when the lady I was with screamed in fear at the sight of Belin's fingers. By the time I had calmed her, the child had fled and I chose to ignore the situation." Julian spoke softly, sparing himself little in the telling of the incident.

"She seems to have come to terms with her hands," Cara said, relating the story of the frog princess. "Belin is convinced now that she is special rather than an oddity. As she grows older she'll realize the story is merely a comfort to her but by then she will have a stronger feeling of self worth."

Julian's eyes held approval as he listened to the young woman whose wisdom and common sense had transformed a wild child into a beautiful little wood nymph.

"If Belin continues as she is now I am going to be besieged with offers from smitten young men," Julian laughed. Then as his eyes swung out to the lake his expression darkened. "But with Richard I have no excuse except stupidity."

Cara heard the note of pain in Julian's voice as he stared at the laughing boy in the water. Her hand reached out to touch him in reassurance but she pulled it back quickly, embarrassed at her own forwardness.

"I didn't know Richard was with his parents in the carriage when it overturned."

"Oh," breathed Cara in understanding. "So of course you wouldn't know the reason behind his aversion to horses."

"Exactly," Julian said. "His father was a superb horseman. I assumed Richard would be too and it would be a point of communication for us both. When he balked, I thought he was a coward. And of course he knew what I was thinking but was too proud to admit the reason for his fear. I tore into him, I'm afraid, but the lad is pluck to the bone and held his ground. I should have been horsewhipped."

They sat in silence, both sets of eyes on the water, lost in thought. Suddenly Julian burst out laughing, throwing his head back in helpless amusement. Startled, Cara stared at the shaking figure as though he had taken leave of his senses.

"If you had been a proper young English woman, you would have jumped to my defense," Julian managed to get out when he could control his laughter.

"Well, perhaps horsewhipping would have been a little strong," Cara stammered in confusion.

"Caning, possibly?" Julian offered. As Cara appeared to be considering the idea, Julian laughed again. "Are all Americans without artifice or are you a particularly honest one?"

"I am a very normal person, I assure you," Cara replied. "As the children's governess perhaps I do judge you more severely. If so, I apologize."

"I meant no offense, Miss Farraday," Julian said, but his eyes were sparkling with mischief. "Are you enjoying your position here at Weathersfield?"

"Yes, of course, Lord Wilton," Cara replied. "I am very fond of the children."

Julian noted the genuine sincerity of her words as she gazed at the capering youngsters. He knew without being told that Miss Farraday had come to love both Belin and Richard. Perhaps that was why she had been so successful in dealing with them. Now that he was able to examine them with more interest he was finding them quite fascinating himself.

Cara sensed the brush of Julian's glance and felt her cheeks redden under his close scrutiny. She had not minded listening to his admissions of past dealings with the children. She had been a sounding board for his thoughts. But now that the conversation was no longer about the children and her duties as governess she was uncomfortable. Fearing the personal nature of further discussion, Cara stood up, shaking her skirts out as she walked toward the edge of the lake.

Julian admired the unconscious grace of Cara's movements and catching sight of the bare feet peeking out of the bottom of her skirts, he grinned. Glancing at her dress, he felt an impatience with the frumpy design. She looks like she's borrowed the dress from an older, and evidently larger, sister, he thought. Her limp headdress gave her the appearance of a young nun. Now that Julian was used to the dowdy style of her clothing he was also more aware of the figure beneath the bulky materials. To his discerning eye, the mysterious Miss Farraday had a petite but delightfully curved body.

Reminding himself bleakly of his married state, Julian shook himself to clear his mind of an inventory of the governess' physical attributes and watched as she dealt with the children. Cajoling them out of the water with a combination of humor and outrageous threats, Cara amazed him with the respect for her authority she had already instilled in the children. They responded to her orders, behaving neither sullenly or toadylike. Julian retrieved his boots and jacket. Waving and calling his goodbyes he strolled to his horse tethered to a nearby bush.

The children were slightly downcast by Julian's abrupt departure but Cara herself was relieved. Replacing her stockings and half boots, she praised both of them on their progress in the water. By the time the children were reasonably dry, Belin was once again chattering and Richard was badgering Cara with more questions about the Indians, a subject that consumed the greater part of his interest in the Americas.

After their morning of exercise the children fell on the food at lunch with great enthusiasm. Cara was delighted with the boisterous discussions of the children, remembering the halting conversations at the beginning of her stay. She realized that her days as governess would soon end. Another week and a half at most, she thought, surprised at the jolt of disappointment she felt. Perhaps she was enjoying herself so much because she was free of all responsibility except for the well being of the children. Of her marital responsibilities she would rather not dwell.

When the luncheon was finished Cara sent Belin to Mrs. Clayton for her needlework lesson. She eyed Richard who was engrossed in reading a history book. His shaggy curls were mussed as he ran an absent hand through them. Cara bit her lip in perturbation, opening her mouth several times in an attempt to speak, then snapping her lips shut in indecision. She wondered if she were pushing Richard too quickly. There was so little time left that she felt pressured to at least make an attempt. After all the boy could only refuse and then she would just have to try a new tack.

"Richard?" Cara began nervously.

"Yes, Miss Farraday."

Looking up from the book he was reading, Richard put a finger between the pages to save his place. He waited as his governess hesitated in phrasing her words.

"I wonder if you could help me?"

"If I can," the boy replied politely.

Cara cleared her throat before she could continue. "I talked to Glum yesterday and he said he thought I ought to ride again."

The tensing of the boy's hands on the edges of the book were the only visible sign of his uneasiness. Ashamed of her own subterfuge, Cara flushed with discomfort and threw herself into a chair across from the boy.

"I can't do it alone," she blurted out. "Could you come with me?" she finished lamely. She wrung her hands, anguished to think that all the planning she and Glum had done might be for nothing.

Mistaking her discomposure for fear, Richard leaped to his feet. He threw down the book and stood manfully in front of her, a slim blushing protector.

"Of course I'll come, Miss Farraday," he announced to the startled woman. Then continuing in a surprisingly adult tone, "I've been wanting to suggest it but I wasn't sure if I...I mean, if you were ready."

The boy was delighted by the ravishing smile his governess bestowed on him. For one awkward moment he almost thought she was going to hug him. On his way to his room he reflected that it might not be such an awful thing if Miss Farraday did. At first her looks had been rather off-putting but now that he knew her better he rather thought she had moments when she was downright pretty. He was glad she hadn't gone all mushy like a lot of ladies he had met. After all, a fellow of his years didn't relish being pawed over by some overly scented lady. Of course that couldn't apply to Miss Farraday. He had noticed early on, that she smelled like a garden in summer. Lots of clean smells with a little bit of spice, he thought. Putting the finishing touches to his riding habit he acknowledged that Miss Farraday was a right one, as Pennyfeather would say.

After Richard left, Cara flew to the bellrope and then scribbled a note to Glum apprising him of Richard's consent. She was excited beyond belief as she hurried to change clothes. After nearly being caught by Julian she had abandoned the dove gray habit and, choosing one of the dismal brown tweed dresses in her meager wardrobe, she had resewn it for riding. She made a wry face as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. The dress was far from flattering, bunching around her waist like a sack. The color vied with the natural beauty of her skin, giving it a yellow caste. Checking her hair to be certain that it was securely pinned at the nape of her neck, she covered it with an equally unbecoming tweed headdress. She pulled on her riding boots and raced down the stairs to the stables.

Richard was waiting in the stableyard, swatting his crop against a bush. Although he would never admit it, Cara sensed his agitation. Hoping to give the boy confidence she put on her most timorous expression as she approached.

"Are you ready?" Cara asked in feigned quavering tones.

"Don't worry, Miss Farraday," Richard spoke heartily. "I asked Glum to find the gentlest horse in the stables."

"I don't know. Do you suppose if I breathe deeply it will help to get rid of the butterflies in my stomach?"

"A jolly good idea," Richard exclaimed immediately trying it. "It works, Miss Farraday. Give it a go."

Cara watched as Glum came out into the yard. He was walking the docile hunter they had picked out for Richard. An older horse, Grady was placid to the point of somnolence, a nerveless animal that promised to give Richard an uneventful ride. One of the boys walked behind Glum leading Rose, an unprepossessing mare for Cara. While she dithered needlessly, Richard was mounted with no hesitation on his part. The boy was far too busy shouting instructions to his hapless, and apparently inept, governess to be concerned about his own fear. Cara was just reaching for the saddle when a voice behind her caused her to falter in consternation.

"Good afternoon, Richard. Are you on your way out?"

"Yes, Uncle Julian," the boy replied, grinning at Cara's disconcerted expression. "Miss Farraday is going to have her first ride in ever so long a time. I'm going to go with her to give her encouragement."

Cara was sure that the alarm on Glum’s face was reflected on her own. If ever there was a time that she would have wished Julian elsewhere it was now. Would he recognize her as the girl he had seen in the woods? It took all of Cara's willpower to stand still beside the gentle mare and not bolt for the Hall.

"I've already been out but perhaps she would feel braver if I went along," Julian offered misinterpreting the fear evident on the girl's face.

Beside her, Glum groaned and Cara closed her eyes to prevent herself from screaming in frustration. Momentarily she debated abandoning the entire plan. She could plead illness or insanity. Anything to get out of the yard and back to the safety of the Hall. Then her eyes flicked to Richard's ecstatic expression and she sighed in resignation.

"Oh, topping, Uncle Julian. Right, Miss Farraday?" Richard chirped, unaware of his governess' discomfort in the presence of his guardian.

"Topping indeed, Richard," Cara echoed drily.

Catching Julian's look of cool amusement, angry color flushed her cheeks. She had an uncontrollable urge to throw something at her husband as he sat grinning astride the restive Tyrr. Knowing she was only prolonging the inevitable she got ready to mount, of necessity prepared to act the part of a totally inexperienced rider.

Gritting her teeth, she approached the horse from the wrong side. When the mare shied away, Cara righted herself and hauling on the reins she moved to the mounting block. As ungracefully as possible she flung herself on the saddle, bunching the riding skirt around her legs and tangling it in the stirrup. Glum, his wizened face red and perspiring, refused to meet her eyes as she fussed with her skirt, knotted the reins and dropped her riding crop. Both Julian and Richard waited stoically through all the confusion. They exchanged sympathetic glances acknowledging the incompetence of women. When Cara announced she was ready the two males sighed in accord.

Despite her own discomfort Cara's heart sang at Richard's behavior. Urging his governess forward, the boy praised her lavishly, if unfoundedly. He was too busy shouting instructions to her to be at all concerned about himself. Richard sat his horse as though he had never felt any trepidation about riding. Caught up in the glorious excitement of the moment he soon forgot that his prime objective was to give Miss Farraday encouragement. Followed by Julian, Richard set a brisk pace along the track. Cara was left to her own devices and trailed miserably after them.

BOOK: The American Bride
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