Emma Barry (6 page)

These things weren’t the same for women as for men, she knew, but she envied Theo the gratification on his features when she had left him. Before had been wonderful, but after? “Was that all?” she had wanted to ask, but she didn’t want to wound him.

Once she entered the seminary, it would be over. For one night she had shirked the responsibility that would define the next, the final, decades of her life. Not to mention the decades that had come before. Last night had been about farewelling Theo. Even if he could never change, could never be the man she’d once hoped was within him, no other would ever touch her life as he had.

Together they had acknowledged this. Celebrated it. And now it was time to wake up.

Her fingers curled around the rusting metal handle. With one final glance around, she wrenched, and the back door to the seminary squawked open. She leapt inside, her back slamming into the door for the barest space before she bounded up the stairs. She encountered no one but shadows, and once she’d opened the door to her room, she found her icy bed in an instant.

Safe beneath the counterpane, however, the questions began again. Had she done right in leaving him? With the reduced activity of summer, no one would enter the stable for hours. Probably. Surely he would wake soon and vacate with haste.

Yet even as she felt herself nod in the darkness, she knew she hadn’t woken him because she hadn’t known what to say to him. She needed … she knew not what.

Rolling her head into the pillow and her hands against the freezing narrowness of her bed, she willed herself to bind the beast that had roared from within her only a few hours prior. This was her future. Last night had been an indulgence.

Restless, she waited for a reasonable hour to rise and get on with the business of the remainder of her life.

• • •

The crow of a rooster woke Theo at dawn. Blinking awake, he became aware of the unsteady rhythm in his head.

It took no time at all for the prior night before to come crashing back: his enlistment, the ensuing celebration, and Margaret. Sweet Margaret. Kissing him, whispering “please,” and reclining against the hay, eyes thick with wanting him. He remembered plunging into her, warm and hot over and over again. Possessing her as thoroughly as any man had ever possessed any woman. Now he had to make it right.

He was cold and his joints stiff, but his body hungered for Margaret. Where had she gotten off to? He ran his hand over the small indentation in the hay next to him where she had slept. It hadn’t all been a dream. She had been here. Perhaps she had feared her absence being noticed. Pushing the concerns about her having left him away, he rose and dressed hastily.

As his dumb fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, he took stock of his situation. He was a dirty mess, and it was probably before six. He was in no state to ask for a lady’s hand. He needed to get home. Now.

He decided to borrow one of the seminary’s horses. He would bring it back before they noticed it was gone.

Once he was back in his chamber, he washed, dressed, and proceeded across the house to pound on his mother’s bedroom door.

“Thank you, Lord!” Mother cried when he entered. “I was so worried, Theodore. Are you hurt? Where were you all night?”

“Enlisting in the Union Army.”

“Excuse me?”

“Enlisting. I’ve joined a company which is scheduled to enter the Fifth Connecticut Regiment next month, and from there we go into the Union Army.” His mother blanched. Somehow he suspected this next piece of intelligence would be more disturbing still. “That’s not nearly all. Margaret Hampton. I know you’ve never warmed to her, but I have. I cannot live without her. I’m going to propose to her this morning. This instant, nearly. I hope to make her my wife. Today if at all possible.”

Mother opened and shut her mouth several times, but no noise emerged. She looked rather like a fish who had leapt out of its bowl. A squeaky protest issued at last. A sound that communicated her absolute disdain for his plan. Well, he hadn’t expected her to like it. But this was a problem for another moment. Now he had to deal with Margaret.

He took her hand and softened his tone. “I know that’s a great deal of news, so I will leave you to reflect on it. I’m sorry for your worry last night … and I love you.” He stooped and kissed Mother’s cheek before departing from the room. If he waited for her rebuttal, he would never escape. Besides, it had been efficiently and confidently done.

Shutting the door, he clambered down the stairs and out the door. The sky was a faultless expanse of blue. The buttery yellow light spilled down the street. The leaves on the trees looked as if they had been washed, so brightly did they shine.

There was something eternal about it that reminded him of childhood. Yet Theo could barely remember a day so beautiful, so hopeful, even in his boyhood. He climbed onto his borrowed horse and rode toward the seminary, urging it on with his heels whenever its pace slackened.

Too many minutes later, he sprung down and handed the reins to a confused stable boy. The walk through the gardens took another brisk minute and then he was at the ornate front door on which he pounded. A stunned maid received him.

“Good morning! Has Miss Hampton risen?”

“She has, but I don’t think she is yet receiving visitors,” the girl stammered.

“Tell her Theodore Ward is here to call. I’ll wait.”

He strode over to the window in the front parlor, attempting to project confidence. In truth he had no idea what his reception would be. Margaret had abandoned him, after all. Maybe they didn’t share the same perception of the previous night.

Two minutes later — he knew, he was watching the ticking clock on the mantle — he heard the soft fall of footsteps behind him.

A sonorous voice asked, “Mr. Ward, to what do I owe the pleasure so early this morning?”

When he turned toward her, he realized she was speaking to the rug, a becoming blush spread over her neck and cheeks. She wore a gray morning dress and held herself rigid, as its steel hue would suggest she should. However was he going to convince her?

“Margaret.” Her eyes were still downcast, but he couldn’t keep his intentions out of his voice. She looked at him finally, and he hoped she understood it all. “Ask me to walk with you in the garden.”

Her expression was blank, as if she didn’t understand. She nodded only when he offered his arm to her. She stopped to retrieve her bonnet and gloves and met him outside a moment later.

He shepherded her out into the air and onto the nearest bench. How to begin this conversation? Last night in the stable, he’d had a speech prepared until she’d launched herself at him and his plans had melted before her warmth and responsiveness.

“How do you fare this morning?” she asked, still speaking to the ground.

“I will be better once you agree to marry me.”

“What?” She jolted up and almost shouted, eyes wide with surprise. Perhaps his face hadn’t conveyed everything after all.

Abandoning the lengthy opening list of sentiments that usually accompanied proposals in the novels he’d read, he led with what he considered to be his strongest argument. “I may have gotten a child on you last night. You will marry me.”

She was crimson now, but unpersuaded. She shook her head. “No, Theo. Don’t charge in here acting like you have to save me. I asked you to. I knew what I was doing.” She set her chin and looked away from him.

On to the next tactic, then. “If not because you may be carrying my baby, then, do it because it’s the only way I can go to war and feel secure.”

“How are the two linked?”

“I will worry about you every day until my return. It could be years. Let me make you my wife. Let me extend my roof to you, my money. Let Mother take care of you.”

“Why?” she demanded, nostrils flaring and brow furrowed.

He took her hands gently and used the last weapon in his arsenal. “What did I say to you the night of the dance at McDonough House? Because it’s time. We’ve spent too many years pretending we can live without each other. Where did it get us? Exactly where we started, only unhappy. Let’s try life another way, then. And until this war is over and we can be together, let me spread my mantle before you. Marry me.”

At this, her expression softened but still she shook her head. “We may have spent time apart stupidly, but we’ve fought whenever we were together. Years ago and then again this week. Our temperaments are not well suited. That’s not a good foundation for matrimony.” She freed her hands from his and folded them in her lap, as if the matter were settled against him.

He’d expected a struggle, but this was becoming demoralizing. Was there no way to play upon her sympathies? “We’ve been under a great strain. Marry me because you abandoned me in a stable last night.”

She blushed and looked at the ground. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t risk my absence being noticed.”

“You didn’t think to wake me?”

“I wasn’t sure what to say.”

“Then marry me to atone for your cowardice.” She looked up and smiled at him. He felt hopeful for the first time.

He continued, eager finally to win the battle, “Marry me this afternoon and share my bed tonight.”

He might flatter himself by thinking
that
would make his offer more appealing, but then she blushed again and his heart thumped harder. Last night excepted, he suspected she was a total innocent. In the weeks before he left, they would educate one another, if she would ever accept him.

She paused for a long time, first contemplating his face and then the gravel at her feet. Finally she looked out, across the seminary’s grounds. She had reached a decision, he could tell. “Can we do that? Marry today?”

“I believe so,” he spoke slowly. He hadn’t worked out all the details. His plans were progressing more quickly than he was able to lay track in front of them. “My deployment seems sufficient reason to expedite the matter. And I know most of the judges and lawyers in town. We should be able to work something out.” More than the practicalities, however, he needed to clarify. “Are you saying yes?”

Turning toward him, she placed her hands in his. “Theodore Ward, I accept.”

“Truly?” His heart caught in his chest. She was his. Again and forever.

“To repent for leaving you sleeping in a stall, I will become your bride. However, there is one thing you must know. I don’t love you.”

He felt his chest constrict. Didn’t she love him?

She continued, “I lost the capacity for romantic love two years ago. I realized it’s a dream for young girls. I am more practical now. I am harder. I am not the woman you knew. Does that bother you? Can you truly tell me you love me?”

He’d imagined this moment for several days. As he’d worked things out with the army, as he’d hidden his activities from Josiah and Mother, he’d known the next step was securing Margaret. And yet he never once considered she might say, well,
that
. Perhaps he should withdraw his offer?

No! There was only one way to move in life. The past week had been a thick blur of emotion and confusion. Theo hadn’t yet worked out what it all meant. But if she would agree, there would be plenty of time for fixing labels later on.

He recalled her question and said, “All I know is that I will go through my days with you and no other.”

“As long as we are in accord, then, I will marry you.”

Theo jumped to his feet and pulled her up to him. He saw several faces at the window and, in order to leave them with no doubt of what was transpiring, he dropped his face to Margaret’s and kissed her. Briefly. Chastely. In perfect keeping with decorum.

It took restraint, but he was able to master himself knowing there would be more kisses to come. So he released her, keeping hold only of her elbow to escort her back to the seminary. “I’ll be back for you at three this afternoon. Is that sufficient time to pack up a lifetime at this place?”

She squeezed his hand. “I hope so.”

“Until this afternoon then,
my
lady.”

On the twenty-sixth of June, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-one, Margaret Ruth Hampton married Theodore Eugene Ward.

Margaret recorded the event in the grandest possible terms in her family Bible. It was one of the few relics of her long-dead parents that she possessed and one of very few personal items that filled the two trunks she had taken from the seminary the day before. She smiled down at the entry, amused that it omitted that her marriage had been prompted by a few moments of madness in a stable and her desire not to end her days at the Middletown Female Seminary. Those facts did not need to live on for prosperity. The official record was downright spotless compared to reality.

She set down her pen down and turned to ponder Theo, who was stretched out on the bed in their room at McDonough House, still asleep. They had decided to spend their honeymoon away from his mother. Margaret wasn’t sure the poor woman would ever recover from the shock of yesterday. For that matter, she herself might not either.

She played idly with the simple gold band he had placed on her finger. It was strange and unfamiliar. Her husband sighed, and one hand began moving over the bed, searching for her. Husband. The word baffled.

“Am I never to wake and find you beside me?” he asked, blinking the sleep from his eyes.

“Not if you slumber until after seven.”

“Come back here, and I’ll show you just how roused I am.” He grinned at her impishly and her heart squeezed.

Ignoring it, Margaret shook her head with a laugh. “Indeed I will not. You promised Josiah you would be at work for the rest of the week to help him address your caseload in anticipation of your departure. There is nothing new to discover in bed.” That wasn’t quite true. The previous evening had been far more satisfying than that in the stable. Perhaps a bed made all the difference.

As if he knew her thoughts, Theo raised a brow at her and scoffed. “How wrong you are, madam. I leave for Hartford in less than a month, a time insufficient to exhaust the possibilities.”

Contemplating his departure was too difficult, so she seized upon this statement. “After all your compunction about
me
, I think
you
are the party who came into our marriage with compromised virtue.”