The Bride Insists (16 page)

“Hello there,” called Reverend Carew. “Well met. I was just showing Mrs. Newton the Merry Maidens.”

The twins pulled up just outside the circle of stones. They looked at each other, then back at the vicar. Their faces indicated that they weren't fooled, and also that they were so happy to be out riding that they didn't much care about the supervision. “Look,” said Tegan. She tapped her heels, and her pony trotted around the circle. “Isn't he wonderful? I call him Angwen.” She pulled up beside her sister again. “That means ‘handsome,'” she informed Selina.

Tamsyn leaned forward and patted her pony's neck. “Mine's Purdy, ‘beautiful.' Because she is.”

Feeling remarkably in charity with the world, Selina said, “You ride very well.”

“We're ‘naturals,'” said Tegan smugly. “Albert said so.”

“Born to the saddle,” added Tamsyn.

The phrase seemed to inspire them, and they set the ponies racing up one side of the field and down the other. Their sheer delight was a pleasure to watch.

Later, the group pooled their food and picnicked beside the stone circle. The vicar and girls talked about history, and Selina enjoyed listening. Though the twins were only children, he treated them respectfully, too, she thought. She found herself a bit surprised to be enjoying the girls' company in these circumstances.

All too soon, the sun had moved past the zenith, and it was time to go. The twins waved as they rode away. The older pair turned back to the path that had brought them. For a while, they walked in silence. Birds sang all about them; the breeze whispered in the long grass. At last Edward Carew cleared his throat. “Mrs. Newton. Selina. There is something I wish to say to you.”

His serious tone slowed her steps.

“I don't know if you may… if you have observed…” He paused to gather himself. “Over these last weeks, as we have become better acquainted, I have developed a deep regard for you. I hoped you might… return that sentiment and… and consider becoming my wife.” Before Selina could think of answering, he made an exasperated sound and said, “Could I sound more pompous? As if I didn't know how to express myself better…”

“It's all right.” Her heart was pounding.

“It is not. You are an exceptional woman, with so many engaging qualities, I… Oh, blast.”

“Perhaps you should let me speak?” Selina said.

He looked rueful. “I'm afraid to, for fear you'll tell me I'm an impertinent old fool.”

“I had not thought to marry again,” Selina began.

“Ah.” The distressed look on his thin face and the disappointment in his voice made her hurry on. “Until I met you.” Edward Carew stepped closer, hope in his eyes. “And came to care for you, as we talked together these weeks.”

He took her hand, his blue eyes on hers. “Is… I beg your pardon… is that a yes?”

Selina looked up at him. He was just the slightest bit stooped, determinedly scholarly, so very earnest—and the most admirable man she'd ever met. She laughed. “I believe it is.”

He moved closer still, near enough to slip his arms around her. “I love you.”

“And I, you,” she answered breathlessly.

The kiss was everything such embraces had never been in that long-ago marriage when Selina was a green girl.

“Oh!” she said sometime later. “You make my head spin.”

Edward Carew drew back a little and gave her a delighted smile. “My dear, you could not have offered me a sweeter compliment.”

“Goose.” Selina reached up to straighten her hat, which had tilted over one ear. “This has all happened so fast. I hardly know where I am.”

Carew tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and started walking again. “Well, we needn't hurry now that things are settled between us,” he assured her. “Not that I wish to wait to be married. Not at all! But I would like to write my children before we announce it generally.”

“Of course.” Selina was conscious of a twinge of relief. She would have some time to adjust to this revolution in her circumstances. “Will they be… glad, do you think?”

“They will be cautiously pleased, I believe, until they meet you.”

Selina tried, unsuccessfully, to pull her hand free. “Until…?”

“And then they will be awed by my incredible good luck.”

“Oh, Edward.” Selina pretended to hit him with her free hand.

“Say it again,” he replied.

“What?”

“My name.”

“Edward?”

“Ah, I look forward to hearing you say it, in every imaginable tone, for the rest of my life.”

This sentiment naturally caused a short delay in their progress. Later, as they walked on arm in arm, they formed the very picture of amity and contentment.

The young builder came up to Trehearth House the following day, and his comments on Clare's plans were so intelligent and helpful that she engaged him on the spot. He promised to begin work the very next morning, bringing along two boys who were interested in learning the building trade.

The trio arrived as promised, rucksacks of tools over their shoulders. They cleared the small bedchamber Clare had chosen for the bath and set to work.

Jamie discovered them there when he passed by the room after breakfast, on his way out for the day. He was startled, and then humiliated, by his ignorance of their project. The young builder didn't appear to notice, full of ideas on how best to add a drainpipe that would take the water carried up from the kitchen out and away from the house. He naturally assumed that milady's husband had added his ideas to the plan and approved it. Jamie went to look for Clare and found her in the solar going over the household accounts. “You hired builders without telling me,” he said.

Clare held up a hand to show that she was totting up a long column of numbers. When she was finished, she said, “It all happened so quickly, I forgot to mention it. Reverend Carew recommended—”

“Repairs and alteration to the estate are my responsibility,” interrupted Jamie tightly.

At his tone, Clare abandoned her account book. “We had discussed adding a bath to the house.”

“And I told you it had to wait.”

“Yes, because your builder had more important work to do on the tenants' cottages. I understand that and agree it must come first. But I found a way to manage the project without taking any workers away from…”

“By engaging a complete stranger to work here in our home.”

Clare could see that Jamie was angry, but she didn't understand why. “I told you, the vicar recommended him. And I spoke to him myself. He seems a…”

“Seems! And that is beside the point. You hired him behind my back, against my express wishes.”

This seemed to Clare utterly unfair. “You said I could change whatever I wished in the house.”

This perfectly true remark only added to Jamie's rage. The unexpected sight of the young workmen in his house had touched off all his objections to their financial situation. It also reminded him that he hadn't yet told Clare that the repair work on the estate was costing more than he'd estimated, and what he'd done about that. His resentment at having to beg for permission to cover his far-more-vital projects flared. “We had set aside a certain sum for renovation and repair. This was not included.”

Was
he
simply
worried
about
the
cost?
Clare wondered. “No. But it doesn't matter. His fee is quite reasonable, and I will cover it from…”

“When will you give up this ridiculous idea of controlling our money?” burst from Jamie. “You have a home now and more proper things to occupy your mind.”

“What?” Clare couldn't believe she'd heard him correctly.

“You are a wife; you stand in the position of mother to my sisters. Surely it is time you acknowledged that the oversight of our accounts should be left to me.”

“But… we made an agreement. You promised that the fortune I brought—”

Jamie's temper had overwhelmed his reason. The cause was trivial, but the pent-up ambivalence was not. “I did what I had to do in order to save my land,” he snapped.

Under his scowl, Clare felt she didn't know him. He seemed a different man from the one she'd been learning to love over these last weeks. Had she been alone in that? She'd thought he felt the same, but now he was glaring like a stranger and claiming that their connection was all about her money. “You never meant it?” she whispered.

Warning bells went off in Jamie's mind. She looked stricken. He tried to backtrack. “I thought you would soon see that I am better qualified to manage business matters. As time passed and you… we—”

“You've just been waiting for me to hand the reins over to you?” Clare interrupted. “You thought I would do that?” She couldn't believe it.

Jamie tried to gentle his voice. “It's the way of things, Clare. Men are formed by nature for such tasks.” The annoyance was still there; he couldn't quell it.

“So all this time you've been deceiving me? You had no intention of keeping your word?” Rising anger helped Clare cope with her crushing sense of betrayal.

“I assumed you would come to your senses, and it would not be necessary,” he snapped back, stung.

In the dining room, Selina and the twins could hear them shouting, if not exactly what they were saying. Tamsyn and Tegan exchanged anxious glances. Selina was torn between her own uneasiness and doubt as to what she should do. Was it her place to interfere between husband and wife? She could not think so.

“My senses are perfectly clear,” Clare responded, “and were when we made our agreement. The one you signed your name to.”

“It is an idiotic agreement. The whole world expects that the head of the household—I—will have control of—”

“Well, you don't!” The years of being powerless, pushed this way and that by others' demands, treated as a servant, welled up in Clare, stronger even than the hurt and betrayal. “And you shan't. I will not change my mind, Jamie.”

“If you could just be rational for one moment—”

“Rational is precisely what I am being!” Clare's voice had gone icy. “That is why I had documents prepared—which you had every opportunity to read and examine. If anyone here is irrational, it is you, expecting that I would make such careful preparations and then simply discard them.”

Jamie felt he scarcely recognized this adamant woman who pinned him with her fierce tiger eyes. “You can't expect me to tolerate being overridden by my wife, letting all the world see me living under the cat's foot.”

“When have I done that? When have I shown the least sign—?”

“You hired this fellow without consulting me, as if my wishes didn't matter.” He was conscious that this wasn't a particularly strong point of argument. The discussion had somehow spiraled right out of his control.

“That isn't true.”

“You did
not
hire him without consulting me?” It came out as a taunt.

“I had spoken to you about my wish for a bath. You agreed that it might be done.”

In truth, he'd hardly paid attention when she mentioned it. He'd had so many more important things to think of. “I believe I said we had no time for fripperies,” Jamie replied. “That is not quite the same thing.”

Clare made an impatient gesture. This wasn't the heart of the matter. She hardly cared about the bath just now. The real issue went so much deeper. He'd given his word without meaning it. He'd promised things he never meant to deliver.
How
could
she
trust
him
now?
she wondered. What else might he be hiding from her? She'd thought he was the companion and partner she'd longed for, dreamed of, but… he wasn't. The sound of hammering from upstairs accentuated the cause of the dispute. Should she tell the workmen to go? But that was not what she wanted. Why should she give up this simple pleasure? Clare couldn't think. She was very much afraid she might give way to tears, which would be too humiliating to bear. She turned toward the door.

“Clare.”

“Yes.” She turned back. Perhaps he would say that he'd spoken too hastily, that he didn't mean it.

“Everything would be so much easier if you would just let me take care of you,” Jamie said earnestly. He wanted to do that. He'd never wanted anything more. Couldn't she understand?

Clare stood rigid in the doorway. It sounded lovely—to be taken care of, to have no worries, to shift every burden onto someone else. But she knew from bitter experience that it was an illusion. The reasons to worry didn't go away. They were simply hidden from you until circumstances grew so dire that they had to come out, and life collapsed around you like a house of cards. She would never let that happen to her again. She'd thought that Jamie understood the feeling, the fear. She'd thought… imagined that he accepted her as intelligent and capable. But he hadn't accepted anything except her money. It hurt too much to talk any more.

Hurrying from the room, Clare encountered Selina hovering in the great hall. “Are you all right?” the older woman asked uncomfortably. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“No.” Selina had had doubts about the marriage scheme from the beginning. Now, Clare was ashamed to admit that her friend had been right, that Jamie had never really accepted her conditions. She rushed off, and then stood in the upstairs hallway wondering what to do. If she shut herself in her bedchamber, Selina might follow with more questions. Worse, the tears that threatened would overwhelm her there; she could feel it. Clare turned to the back stairs and descended to the kitchen to consult Mrs. Telmore, the cook, about the day's meals. After that, she moved on to other tasks, keeping her hands and her mind busy, shoving the conversation with Jamie out of her thoughts.

Jamie had to leave for an important appointment on the other side of the estate and had no opportunity to speak to Clare for the rest of that day. As he rode from place to place, he pondered his mistake. He'd let his resentment govern him and raised the topic of finances too soon. He would have to make amends, and then wait until she saw the truth of his arguments for herself. Eventually, she would. It was inevitable.

That night, when he put his hand on the knob to her bedroom door, he found it locked. So she was sulking, he concluded. Which just proved his point about her childishness. He definitely needed some scheme to placate her.

Clare, alone in her bed, choked on tears. This was far worse than the loneliness she'd felt as a governess. That had been impersonal, a matter of misfortune and position. It didn't strike to the heart like a hunter's bullet. She'd opened all of herself to Jamie. She'd trusted him and… and she'd fallen in love with him. Or… with the man she'd thought he was, the man who respected her wishes and valued her abilities, who understood and entered into her plans. Now the foundation of that love was crumbling beneath her. She couldn't bear it.

***

At breakfast the next morning the twins looked at Jamie and Clare with apprehensive eyes, and Selina sat stiffly, as if braced for a new storm. The couple pretended all was well, but Clare didn't think anyone was convinced. Dejected, weary from a nearly sleepless night, she left the dining room. Jamie followed her at once. “I was thinking you might make another visit to Penzance,” he said. “I'm sure there are things you still want for the house.” Realizing this might be dangerous territory, he quickly added, “You enjoyed yourself last time.”

“Like a child's treat?” she responded.

“Well, you're acting like a child, which just proves my point.” As soon as the words were out, Jamie wanted to bite his tongue. But her intransigent attitude, and the distance in her eyes, clawed at him. She was blowing up this minor incident out of all proportion. It was time to let it go.

“And what point is that?” asked Clare through gritted teeth.

He would not let this discussion go the way of yesterday, Jamie told himself. Yet he couldn't help resenting her obduracy. The whole world acknowledged that the male sex was better suited to understand business and finance. Women had other talents. Many admirable talents. Look at what Clare had accomplished in her brief time at Trehearth. Perhaps he hadn't made his respect and gratitude for that clear. He ought to compliment her more. “You've made a home here,” he said. “The transformation is amazing. Trehearth is a different, and much pleasanter, place. Coming back to it every day is a wonder to me.”

“With the new draperies and furniture, and the staff to cook and clean for you,” Clare replied in a toneless voice.

“Exactly. And I know you've enjoyed doing it. Anyone could see that.” Perhaps this was the key. If he took her step by step through his reasoning, she would agree with him. He'd already acknowledged that he'd been going too fast.

Clare looked around the spotless hallway, noted the colorful carpet runner. She had enjoyed it, and she knew she'd done a good job. Didn't this prove that she was a canny, skillful manager?

“This is your realm.” Jamie gestured at their surroundings.

“Queen of the household,” Clare replied. Jamie nodded and smiled, clearly missing the irony in her tone. She'd thought they were growing so close; actually, she hadn't had any idea what was going on in his mind. She'd been deluded, and now he was humoring her as if she were the twins' age. Younger! Tamsyn and Tegan would never have been taken in by this drivel. Abruptly, Clare felt invisible once again—not by her own choice this time, but because her husband saw only what he wished to see when he looked at her.

“Absolute monarch.” Jamie smiled at her, confident that she was beginning to understand. They were not quite there; he could see that. But they were moving toward harmony.

Clare just gazed at him, realizing the full enormity of their misunderstanding. He actually believed that their detailed, written agreement was a whim she would get over. And she couldn't make him see that this view was insulting and misguided. It was pointless to try. “Perhaps I will go to Penzance,” Clare said.

“Splendid.” Relieved that she'd finally seen the futility of going round and round on a matter that would eventually resolve itself, Jamie took her hand. “You deserve some amusement after all your hard work,” he said, dropping a kiss on her fingers. The journey would settle her down, he thought. And then all would be well between them again.

Clare and Selina traveled up to Penzance the following day, in the same hired carriage as before. Selina found her young friend's silence on the journey worrisome. Clare hadn't even noticed the twins' hopeful expression when the expedition was mentioned at dinner. That was not like her at all. But when she tried to probe, Clare brushed her inquiries aside. Selina was not one to force a confidence, but the younger woman's dire mood threw a pall over their expedition.