Before the Season Ends (37 page)

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Authors: Linore Rose Burkard

BOOK: Before the Season Ends
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Mrs. Bentley looked at her niece with eyes that could be called fond. She sat up suddenly.

“Wait. You do not mean you will refuse Mr. Mornay because he may not have so great an understanding as you? Of these things?”

Ariana pursed her lips in thought. “It is not that.” She spoke slowly. “But knowing our need for God changes us from what we were. In fact, the Bible says, all who are in Christ are new creations—a new order of being, ma’am! We look the same, we appear like any other person, but we are renewed in our innermost beings! It is a remarkable, miraculous thing!” Her eyes were lit with excitement and her face, always pretty, glowed warmly with a beauty that for a moment did seem unearthly, and as though a halo surrounded her head. Mrs. Bentley blinked in astonishment.

“And here is the crux of the matter, ma’am,” her niece continued. “Scripture expressly forbids us to marry an un-renewed person. It would be like a union of two species—unnatural, and bound to be laden with strife. If Mr. Mornay does not come to realize his need for the Saviour,” and her voice dropped here, “then I am afraid there is little hope for us.”

Mrs. Bentley was staring at Ariana. The otherworldly aura about her had faded, and now she doubted she had ever seen it. All she saw, in fact, was a very young, very stubborn, very foolish young woman.

“You would be content at that? You would allow him to just walk away from you? The most sought-after gentleman in my lifetime that I know of!”

Ariana’s face was creased in concern. “I would be miserable! I could never be happy apart from him, and yet I cannot reconcile myself to marriage as things now stand. If we were to wed, I could never share my joy in God with him.” She looked pleadingly at her relation. “Don’t you see? If I am to be made one with my husband, we must be one in heart, mind,
and
spirit.”

“So you would abandon that poor man who finds himself in love with you!”

Ariana sighed deeply. “You forget that I am in love, also. I have had to put myself and my future—and Mr. Mornay—entirely into God’s hands. If I am meant to marry him, then he will come to faith, I am certain.”

“Your marrying him would be the thing most likely to bring him to faith!”

Ariana made no reply beneath Mrs. Bentley’s accusing stare.

“What a strange, cold thing you are!”

Ariana’s eyes filled with tears. The hours she had spent on her knees, crying out to God regarding Mr. Mornay! The tears she had shed! Was that being a “strange, cold thing”? She stood up in agitation, wishing to avoid shedding tears before her aunt.

“I am sorry if I appear so. I assure you—” and then she broke off, unable to speak another word. She looked pitifully at her aunt and then flew from the room.

Twenty-Nine

 

 

 

A
fter Ariana left, and after Mrs. Bentley had gone to the door and listened for the sound of her niece’s chamber door closing down the hall, she went to the parlour window and spoke to the floor-length drapery.

“You may come out, now.”

There was a moment while the drapery puffed outward, and then Mr. Mornay appeared, looking ill at ease.

“I knew it was an inferior suggestion,” he said. “And unfair to her. I regret agreeing to your scheme. I am thoroughly ashamed of myself!”

“But you have seen that she truly loves you. Is that not what you wished to know?”

He sat tiredly down upon a chintz-covered settee.

“I hoped to find out what was really between us. I did not expect to discover that it was indeed
God.
” He seemed weary and yet restless, and his eyes roamed the room. Mrs. Bentley cleared her throat, taking a seat across from him in a matching sofa.

“I regret she said so much about that topic…”

“No, no, I thought it was a mere excuse on her part, but it is a very real problem for her. And for me.”

Mrs. Bentley rose and reached for the bellpull, but Mr. Mornay stood up. Mrs. Bentley looked at him in surprise and then alarm. She wanted to settle matters before he could leave.

“But, Mornay, you have only to satisfy her on the points she spoke of. You have merely to profess a belief—a trust—in her Saviour. Is that not easily done?”

He looked at her with a defeated expression. “It is not as if I can go and sign on. ’Twould be easier for me, I believe, if she had required me to convert to Judaism!”

At that moment the door opened and Ariana stepped into the room. She began walking toward her aunt but stopped in shock upon seeing Mr. Mornay.

“Oh!”

That she had been crying was evident: her large eyes were rimmed with red, her face was flushed, and in her hand was a sodden handkerchief, but she gave him a watery smile of greeting. Mr. Mornay was pierced with guilt and remorse—and a wave of affection. Ariana looked back and forth at them.

“I beg your pardon. I seem to be interrupting.” She turned to her aunt. “But I must tell you—”she stopped and walked right up to the older woman and bent to give her a small kiss on the cheek. Mrs. Bentley stiffened involuntarily when she realized a kiss was forthcoming, and then was struck silent with surprise—and perhaps her own measure of guilt. She laughed uncomfortably. “My dear—” she began.

But Ariana was already talking. “I want to apologize for behaving in such a way that you could accuse me of coldness.”

Mrs. Bentley was embarrassed, and glanced uncomfortably at Mr. Mornay. “That’s quite all right, my dear.” She spoke quickly, hoping to end the scene, but Ariana hadn’t done.

“I know you think me ungrateful and undeserving, but I am very conscious of the honour Mr. Mornay has given me.” She glanced at him gratefully, surprised to see him looking ill at ease. “And I want you to know, I have ever prayed earnestly for both Mr. Mornay and you, my dear Aunt.”

Mrs. Bentley softened. “I am obliged to you, Ariana, indeed I am. And you must forget what I said, that you were cold-hearted or some such thing, for I realized at once my mistake. You are particular, but
not cold,” she clarified. The two exchanged tremulous smiles. But Mrs. Bentley’s overwhelming desire to see the wedding move forward returned to her mind. After all, right in front of her were the principal beings who could bring it about! “And since you are such a thoughtful creature, I do not see why we cannot now, that the three of us are present, make some plans regarding the wedding.”

To her surprise, it was not her niece but the gentleman who disagreed.

“Not now. Ariana and I need to talk.”

Mrs. Bentley realized she was being asked to leave the room, and did so reluctantly.
If only they would leave matters to me. It is as obvious as a horse’s tail they are deeply in love!

Mr. Mornay took hold of Ariana. Gently but firmly he drew her toward him. She thought he meant to kiss her, but he drew her up against him and just held her. After a long, touching embrace he spoke softly into her ear. After listening for some moments, Ariana pulled her head back and looked up at him in consternation.

“You heard everything I said, then!”

He nodded. “Can you forgive me?” His tone intimated he did not think she could.

“Of course. I have nothing to hide.” She responded so quickly and easily that he doubled his embrace, lifting her off the floor.

Ariana laughed in surprise.

“And to think of the way I scolded you that night at the Sherwoods’, ” he said as he put her back so she was standing, though he kept his arms around her. “When I knew ’twas likely an accident and you hadn’t the least bit of malice in your whole body.”

She smiled, remembering. His face then became serious and Ariana moved to the point at hand.

“What are you going to do about what you heard me speak of to my aunt?”

“What can I do?” He blinked. “What do you want me to do?”

“Are you ready to confess your sins to God? To receive Christ into your own heart, as I have done?” Her heart was beating strongly with
suspense and hope, while he continued to just look at her, making no answer.

“You can choose at any moment to put your trust in Christ,” she added, softly.

He looked away. “I could easily agree to that. I am afraid, however, I would be doing nothing other than satisfying you for the sake of our marriage. You would never be certain of me. And eventually, when I continue to be myself” (he made a wry grimace) “you will come to despise me.”

“I could never despise you!”

He stared at her a moment. “I think you would. The way you spoke to your aunt…I could never marry you selfishly the way I wanted to, before.” Their eyes met, troubled. “I was prepared to go forward with the wedding, hoping the pressure of social expectation might be enough to persuade you.” He looked quite dismal as he added, “But I will not do that.” He paused a moment, considering the only thing that must be done.

“Do you want me to release you? If you wish to be released from our betrothal…” His eyes took on a veiled look as he tried to harden his heart to the inevitable. His voice had sounded hoarse, nothing like his usual commanding tone.

Tears popped, unwelcome, once again into Ariana’s eyes. Mr. Mornay did not want her. He had seen her level of devotion to Christ and wanted no part of it. She felt wretched. “Are you certain that is what you want?” she asked.

“What I want? By no means!”

“Oh!” She fell back into his arms, greatly relieved. “Nor do I.” She looked up at him and he gave her an earnest kiss.

“But I cannot make a profession of the faith you require.”

“Perhaps not today,” she admitted, soberly. “But I believe that God has a call on your life, Phillip Mornay. And you must not think you can escape Him—or me—that easily!”

He held her close and spoke quietly into her ear, “I have no wish to escape either of you.”

Thirty

 

 

 

M
rs. Bentley, to her credit, reflected upon the conversation she had had with Ariana, and fetched her little prayer book from the drawer where it stayed all week until it was needed for church on Sundays. She liked the book. It was small, a bit fat, but still could fit in a good size reticule. And the pages had a nice feel to them. She gazed at the worn cover with a stirring of old affection:
The Book of Common Prayer.
She had often discovered her niece absorbed in its pages, and she resolved to do her best to make it a part of her daily habits as well. It could surely do her no harm.

It was a small comfort, after all, to be able to do something to further one’s religion. She read a morning collect at once, in the little sitting room that adjoined her chamber. After the reading, she said a small prayer. Normally she prayed only in church or at dire moments. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually followed the readings at home. It hadn’t taken long, and praying did feel nice. She would do it more often.

Afterward, like a woman who had been dreaming, she suddenly recalled she had been given the charge of seeing to a wedding! She had abundant work to do! The fact that Ariana had still not formally consented to the match did not deter her. She knew that Mornay loved her niece, and she knew Ariana loved him. Why not just
pray
for a happy conclusion? It had been quite nice to pray and now she had a good reason to do so again. Mrs. Bentley bowed her head, and, moving
her lips silently, prayed that Ariana would come to her senses; that the marriage of the year would take place as speedily as could be arranged; and that Mr. Mornay would not lose patience or change his mind.

“There, and amen.” She gave a firm nod of her head and moved on to other things.

Just as she rose from the settee, an urgent knocking came at the door of the chamber, and Ariana burst inside. She was lit up with excitement, and breathing quickly from having run up the stairs to fetch her aunt.

“Molly has been caught! Indeed, she took my letter to the Worthingtons’ house, no small distance from here! They must be rewarding her amply! Haines has her downstairs and is waiting for you.”

Mrs. Bentley jumped up, dropping the prayer book in her haste.

“Oh, Aunt! Your prayer book! How wonderful! I am delighted for you!”

“Oh, hush, stuff, and nonsense. Nothing to get in vapours over.”

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