Tracie Peterson (18 page)

“Very good, sir,” Mattersley replied and Amelia thought it almost sounded like a sigh of relief.

“Well, now that this matter has been resolved,” she began and took the chair beside her father, “I thought we might address another.”

“Do tell?” the earl replied and continued with cleaning his shotgun.

“Father, I have come to plead with you one final time to release me from this preposterous suggestion that I marry Sir Jeffery.” The earl said nothing and so Amelia continued. “I cannot marry a man I do not respect, and I hold not the slightest respect for Sir Jeffery. I also cannot bring myself to consider marrying a man I do not love.”

“Such modern notions do you a grave injustice, my dear,” her father replied. “My mind is set and this is my final word. You will marry Chamberlain. In fact, I’ve arranged for us to depart Estes in three weeks. We will travel by stage from Greeley to Denver and there you will be married.”

“What! How can you suggest such a thing? Why that won’t even allow for a proper wedding, much less a proper English wedding,” Amelia protested.

“It is of little concern. Sir Jeffery and I discussed the matter and we both believe it to be to the benefit of both parties.”

“What parties? You and Jeffery? Because, I assure you it will never be to my benefit.” She got to her feet, trembling from her father’s declaration. “I cannot understand how my own father would sell me into such an abominable circumstance.”

“And I cannot imagine that I raised a daughter to be so defiant and disobedient,” the earl replied, looking at her with a stern expression of dismay. “Your mother would not be pleased in the way you’ve turned out. Even she would find your temperament to be unwarranted.”

“Mother would understand,” Amelia said softly, the anger being quickly replaced by the realization that her father could care less about her feelings. “And once, when you and she were still together, you would have understood, too.”

She left the cabin and felt as though a damp, cold blanket had been thrust upon her shoulders. The weight of her father’s sudden declaration was more than she’d even imagined him capable of turning out. Immediately her mind sought for some manner of refuge.
There has to be something I can do.

She walked a ways up the mountainside and paused beside a formation of boulders and rock. Hiking up her skirt, she climbed to the top by inching her way along the crevices and hand-holds. Once she’d managed to achieve her goal, she sat down in complete dejection and surveyed the village below.

Three weeks was a very short time.

She sighed and thought of leaving Estes and knew that it was tearing at her in a way that she’d never prepared herself for. She would have to leave the clean, crisp mountain air and the beauty that she’d never grow tired of looking upon.
And for what? To return to the cold, damp English winters? To be the wife of that unbearably cruel bore?

She felt a tear trickle down her cheek and rubbed it away with the back of her sleeve. She almost laughed at herself for the crude gesture.
In so many ways I’ve become one of them. How can I go back to England now?

“I can’t do it,” she whispered. “I can’t go back.”

That left her with very few alternatives. She couldn’t very well talk her father into letting her remain in America. Soon enough she would be twenty-one and her father would never allow that day to come without her being properly married to Sir Jeffery.

“I could run away,” she murmured and the though suddenly seemed very possible.
Logan has taught me how to find my way around,
she reasoned.
I could hide out in the mountains until after my birthday and then Father would have no choice.
But her birthday was the twenty-third of November and by that time this entire area would be snow-packed and frightfully cold. There was no way she would survive.

“But I don’t want to survive if I have to marry Jeffery.”

With that declaration an entirely different thought came to mind. Taking her own life could not be ruled out as a possible alternative. She thought of Crying Rock and the Indian maid who’d bravely gone to her death rather than face the unbearable ordeal of marrying a man she abhorred.
I’m no different than that woman. My sorrow is certainly well-founded. To leave this place, this lovely, wonderful place would be sheer misery.
And yet, even as she thought it, Amelia knew it wasn’t just the place—it was Logan. Marriage to any man other than Logan was simply unthinkable.

“But he doesn’t feel the same way I do,” she chided. “He has his God and his religion and he doesn’t need a woman who would fight him with intellectual words and philosophies.”
No, Logan needs a wife who would work at his side, worship at his side, raise a family at his side. Logan would expect her to believe as he did, that God not only existed but also played an intricate role in the lives of His children. And that in doing so, He gave them a Savior in Jesus Christ.

Something her mother had once said came back to haunt her. “Only the foolish man believes there is no God, Amelia. For the Bible says, ‘even the demons believe in God, and they tremble.’”

Amelia gazed out over the valley and sighed. Logan said she had but to open her eyes to the handiwork of God to realize His existence. But how could she believe in God, much less in the need to worship Him and follow all manner of rule and regulation laid out in the Bible? To what purpose was there such a belief as the need for eternal life? Wasn’t it just that mortal man could not stand to believe that his important life ended in the grave? Wasn’t the idea of immortality something mankind comforted itself with in lieu of facing the truth that once you died, that was all there was? After all, most religions she’d studied had some form of immortality for their believers. It was rather like a parting gift from a high-society soiree. Something to cherish for those who had the courage to play the party games.

“I do not need such comfort,” she whispered and hugged her arms close. “When my life is done, it is done and there will be no marriage to Sir Jeffery and no longing for what I can never have.”

Suddenly it seemed quite reasonable to put an end to her life. In fact, it was almost calming. If there was nothing else to concern herself with, why not stop now? She’d seen more of the world than most people. She’d enjoyed the pleasures of the privileged life and she’d once known the love of good parents and siblings.
So what if I never know the love of a man—never know the joys of motherhood?
She wiped the tears that were now pouring freely from her eyes.

“I will go to Jeffery and plead my case before him. I will tell him honestly that I have no desire to marry him and suggest to him a different course,” she told the valley before her. She climbed down from the rock and smoothed her skirt. “If he refuses to give consideration to my desires, then the matter will be resolved for me.”

She thought that there should be some kind of feeling of accomplishment in making such a decision, but there wasn’t. She felt empty and void of life. “I am resigned to do this thing,” she said as an encouragement to her broken spirit. “There is no other way.”

S
ir Jeffery, I wonder if I might have a moment of your time,” Amelia began one evening after dinner.

He seemed to sneer down his nose at her as though her request had somehow reduced her to a beggar. “I would be honored,” he said and extended his arm for her.

Amelia, seeing all faces turned to behold her action, placed her hand upon his sleeve. “I suggest a short walk, if that would meet with your approval,” she said cautiously.

“But of course, Lady Amhurst. I am your servant.”

Amelia said nothing more, but allowed Jeffery to lead her amicably from the lodge.

“I must say this is a pleasant surprise. Dare I hope you’re coming around to my way of thinking?”

Amelia let go of him and shook her head. “No, rather I was hoping to persuade you to my way of thinking.”

“How so?”

“Sir Jeffery, I have no desire to marry you. I do not love you and I never will. I cannot make it any clearer on this point.” She turned to him in the dim lamp light of the porch and hoped he would understand. “I know about your hold on Father and I know about your desire for the Scottish property.” She held up her hand to wave off his question. “I overheard you two discussing the matter one evening. Therefore, I know, too, that you are not marrying me because of any great love, but rather because you want a good turn of business.”

“Fair enough,” Jeffery replied and leaned back against the porch railing. “But your knowing the circumstance does nothing to change my decision.”

“But why not? Why not be an honorable man about this and allow Father some other means by which to settle his debt?”

“I’m open to other means. If you can put the seventy thousand pounds in my hand, I’ll call the entire wedding off.”

“Truly?” she asked, feeling at once hopeful.

Jeffery sneered and laughed. “But of course, you can’t put that kind of money in my hands, even if you inherit, can you?”

“Perhaps not right away, but I could put over half of it in your hands.”

“What? And leave yourself with no income. If you do not marry, your father is sure to exile you to that pitifully cold Scottish estate you seem so inclined to hang on to. Without funds, how do you propose to live?”

“I hope to sell my book when we return to England. Lady Bird suggested—”

“No, Amelia. I will not call of this wedding on your hopes and the suggestions of Lady Bird.”

“And there is no other way to convince you?”

“None. Now stop being such a foolish child about it all. You’ll have the very best of everything, I assure you. And if you’re concerned about your freedom to find true love, I will even go so far as to say that as long as you are discrete about your affairs, I will be most tolerant of them.”

Amelia was totally aghast. “I would never consider such a thing!”

Jeffery sighed and spoke tolerantly as though dealing with a simpleton. “It is done all the time, Amelia dear. Most of nobility take lovers because they’ve been forced into loveless marriages. I’m simply trying to offer you what would be an acceptable arrangement in lieu of your sacrificing to a marriage of arrangement.”

Noises from the front of the lodge porch told Amelia that her sisters and their friends were making their way over to the Amhurst cabin. They were giggling and talking in rapid—fire succession about some point or another. It probably amounted to nothing more than their ritual game of after—dinner whist. Amelia lowered her voice to avoid drawing attention to herself.

“I am appalled that you would suggest such a thing. Marriage is a sacred institution, not something to be flaunted about and infringed upon by numerous affairs.”

“My dear, you are quite naive to believe such a thing. I had thought you to be more mature about these matters, especially in light of your disbelief in holy affairs. I thought you above all other women to be removed from such nonsense.”

“Faithfulness has never been nonsense to my way of thinking.”

“Ah, but it is your way of thinking that is keeping this matter unresolved. Your father made up his mind to accept my generous offer. It will benefit all people in one way or another. Yes, even you will benefit, Amelia, and if you would but stop to think about it, you would see that I speak the truth. You might even come to enjoy my company after a time, and furthermore, to find pleasure in my bed.”

Amelia dismissed such notions with her coldest stare. She hoped Jeffery felt frozen to the bone from her look. “I believe we’ve said all there is to say,” she stated and turned to leave. Jeffery did nothing to stop her.

“You’ll soon see for yourself, Amelia.” He called after her, then laughed in a way that suggested he was very much enjoying the entire matter.

Amelia hurried to her cabin, fighting back tears and angry retorts. She knew that there was little to be done but accept her fate. Suicide seemed her only answer and her heart grew even heavier as she considered how she might accomplish such a fate.

“I want to wear the green one,” Penelope argued and pulled the gown from Margaret’s hold. Both sisters looked up guiltily as Amelia entered the room to find them fighting over her gowns.

When Amelia remained fixed in her place, saying nothing of reprimand, Penelope took the opportunity to explain. “There is to be a dance tonight. They’re clearing the lodge’s main room and Mary is fixing refreshments. It won’t be as nice as a fancy ball, but I’m positively dying to dance. And Mr. Reed said the local men will come and serve as partners.”

Margaret lifted her nose in the air and said, “I do hope they bathe. Some of these Americans seem not to know what a benefit water and soap can be.” Her attitude suggested she might be reconsidering her appearance at the dance, but just when Amelia figured her to be absent, Margaret’s expression changed to one of pleading desperation. “You simply must let us borrow your dresses. You have so many pretty gowns that you’ve not even worn and we’ve only those old things.” She waived to a small stack of discarded gowns.