by Merry Farmer
Maeve’s eyes went wide in surprise, then her face pinched with regret. “Alice, I can explain.”
“Can you?” Alice said, blinking rapidly, as though she might cry.
Avery was as out of his depth as it was possible to be. He wasn’t entirely insensible to the hopes Miss Woodmont had had, but surely the woman must have known he couldn’t marry her. Even so, how did she not feel joy for her friend making a good match? He was woefully out of step with the way women’s minds worked.
Maeve crossed the room, as if she would embrace her friend, but Miss Woodmont backed into the hallway.
“There is no explanation,” Miss Woodmont said. She lowered her voice to a whisper as she went on with, “You know my feelings on this matter. You know my…my predicament and all potential solutions to it.”
Maeve peeked woefully over her shoulder to Avery, then focused her regret on her friend. “We should talk about this,” she said in a quiet voice. “Somewhere private.”
“I cannot believe you would betray me this way,” Miss Woodmont said in return, though she let Maeve escort her out through the front door and onto the porch. “You know I wanted him.”
Avery turned to smile awkwardly at Maeve’s parents. None of them knew what to do other than to stand there like poles.
“I’m certain tea will be here shortly,” Mrs. Sperrin said with a sheepish laugh. “I cannot imagine what is keeping Marcy.”
She headed for the hall, fleeing the uncomfortable situation.
That left Avery alone with Mr. Sperrin.
“I trust everything is as it should be in this matter,” Mr. Sperrin said.
Avery wasn’t certain he knew what the man was talking about. He had the horrible idea that Mr. Sperrin was asking if he’d bedded Maeve.
“I can assure you, sir, everything is exactly as it should be,” he insisted.
Mr. Sperrin hummed as though he didn’t quite believe him, then said, “Let me just fetch my diary to see if we can schedule the events that are necessary for a wedding within the next three weeks.”
He, too, exited the room. Avery was left standing by himself in silence.
Except that through the silence, he could hear the argument Maeve and Miss Woodmont were having on the porch. He questioned whether he should be listening in, then moved closer to the window so he could hear the whole thing more clearly.
“…knew Lord Carnlough was my last chance,” Miss Woodmont was insisting. “Now you’ve gone and stolen him from me. What am I supposed to do now?”
“But Alice,” Maeve insisted, “I love him. Truly, I do. You’ve no idea how much. I have stolen nothing from you, because Avery wasn’t yours to begin with.”
“I cannot believe you would say that,” Miss Woodmont snapped at her in return. “You know how dangerous my life is. You know that I stand at the edge of the abyss. You were the only one I thought I could rely on for help, and now you’ve gone and done this?”
“But Alice,” Maeve insisted in a tearful voice, “you do not love Avery. Not as I do. You only want him as a way to save yourself from the past. There are so many other ways you could do that.”
“There are not and you know it,” Miss Woodmont shouted. “I am ruined, completely ruined, and you’ve just gone and made it worse.”
“Alice, you know that I love you. You are like a sister to me,” Maeve pleaded with her. “Can you not simply be happy for me? I am engaged to a man I love, a man who is higher above me than I ever could have dreamed. And we can find a way to help you as well. I’m certain Avery has every sort of connection to—”
“No,” Miss Woodmont cut her off. “This is a betrayal that I cannot countenance. My life is ruined, and it is entirely your fault.”
“I swear, Alice, I never wanted to hurt you,” Maeve said, clearly weeping. “This can all be resolved, I swear it. We can both be happy.”
“You know that isn’t true.” Miss Woodmont sounded as though she were weeping now too. “You know there are no further chances for a woman like me. And yet, you refuse to help me.”
Avery heard sharp footsteps, followed by Maeve calling out, “Alice!”
“You have no idea how deeply you have cut through my heart, Maeve,” Miss Woodmont called out, her voice clearly distressed. “I thought you were a friend, but you are just another snake who doesn’t care what becomes of me.”
“That’s not true,” Maeve wept.
“I never want to speak to you again,” Miss Woodmont shouted. “I never want to so much as look at you. I trusted you, and you’ve betrayed me. I am done with you now.”
More footsteps were heard, traveling down the stairs, before Maeve called out, “Alice!”
Avery pushed himself into motion. He had no understanding of women and their friendships whatsoever. To him, Miss Woodmont was behaving irrationally in the face of something from Maeve that did not deserve the sort of censure she was getting. He didn’t have the first idea of how to correct the situation, though. All he knew was that the woman he loved needed him, and come hell or high water, he would be there for her.
Chapter 7
Maeve felt as though her heart had been torn out and pulled away from her as Alice stormed down the steps and on to her buggy, one hand clapped over her mouth. Her dear friend was obviously weeping, which only made Maeve weep as well.
“Alice!” she called after her again, praying with everything she had that things would change and that Alice would suddenly be happy for her instead of seeing Maeve’s engagement as a betrayal. “Alice,” she repeated, clasping a hand over her bleeding heart, her voice turning weak.
She sagged against the wall of the house and let her tears flow freely as Alice snapped the reins over her horse’s back and drove the buggy out to the road. She sped away from Maeve with such ferocity that Maeve feared for her safety, but there was nothing at all she could do about it.
She twisted to rest her forehead against the side of the house and let out a sob that came from the depths of her soul. Alice was closer to her than her own sisters. They’d endured so much together. Maeve had stood faithfully by Alice’s side through the entire trial with Ryan, sacrificing more than a few opportunities for marriage or social advancement along the way. It would have been easy for her to be angry with Alice, but she couldn’t be. She knew how desperately Alice was hurting, and just when Maeve could have been a good friend to her, she’d pushed her away.
“Maeve, darling?” Avery’s soft voice murmured at Maeve’s side.
Maeve gasped and straightened, quickly wiping away her tears with her shaking hands. She tried her best to smile at Avery. She should have been overjoyed for that moment. Avery had called her darling, and the compassion in his eyes as he watched her was far more than some women’s husbands ever showed them when they were distressed.
“I wish I could explain to her that everything will work out for the best in the end,” she said, sniffling wetly and brushing her face again, hoping it would help.
Avery took a handkerchief from the inner pocket of his jacket—and of course he would have a handkerchief on hand exactly when Maeve needed it, that was simply the kind of gentleman he was—and offered it to her. Maeve took it gratefully, wiped her eyes, and after a preemptively apologetic glance up at Avery, she blew her nose.
“You and Miss Woodmont have been the closest of friends for quite some time, as I understand it,” Avery said, discreetly pretending Maeve hadn’t just made a thoroughly undignified sound.
She nodded, finished cleaning her nose, then palmed the wet handkerchief rather than returning it. Avery was to be her husband, and soon. There would be time to return what was his later, after it was laundered.
“Since we were girls,” Maeve said, her voice still sounding weak and pinched. “Alice was often unhappy, as her parents have always been quite strict. All she has ever wanted is someone to love her. I believe that is what led her into disaster with Michael Feeney.”
“And what has caused her to believe I might be
a suitable groom?” Avery suggested.
Maeve nodded, sending him a guilty look as she did. “I know that you never could have considered her,” she said, feeling as though she were uttering words of betrayal as she did. “And I think perhaps Alice knows that deep down inside as well. But she is so hurt by other things, by life and fate, that she cannot see that.”
“She should not spurn the one person who has helped her through everything,” Avery said with a confused frown, as though he couldn’t quite figure out why someone would do such a thing to begin with.
Maeve laughed with bitter irony. “I believe so as well, but there is no arguing with Alice when emotions are high. And now—” She gulped as her own emotions crushed down on her. Her entire face pinched as she tried and failed to fight off more tears. “Now I fear as though I have lost her friendship forever simply by pursuing my own happiness.”
A sob wracked her body, and there was nothing she could do to stop herself from breaking down entirely. Her only consolation was that Avery let out a sympathetic breath and drew her into his arms.
Of course, that only made Maeve wail louder. He was so wonderful, so thoughtful. He was strong and manly when he needed to be and a soft place for her to land when it was necessary. He was so far above her, and he shouldn’t have stooped to consider her in the first place, but now he was hers and she was his. She struggled to feel as though she deserved that.
After crying herself out for a bit, she glanced up at him. “Do you think,” she began, swallowed, then went on. “Do you think perhaps we could postpone the wedding after all? So that I might reason with Alice and convince her all will be well?”
Avery winced as he stroked a hand over her head. “My darling, I would, but as I said earlier, I need to be in London in a month, and I do not foresee myself returning to Ireland until the spring. All things considered, with our indiscretion last night, I don’t think we can risk waiting until the spring.”
Maeve nodded and rested her cheek against his shoulder. “You are right, of course.” And if she were honest, she was damned lucky that Avery had such a ready excuse as to why they needed to make haste to wed, just in case.
“All will be well, my dear,” Avery said, kissing her head, then stepping back when footsteps sounded in the hall, indicating that one of Maeve’s parents was about to interrupt them. “You will see. Miss Woodmont cares deeply for you, and I am certain she will see reason soon.”
“Thank you,” Maeve said, glancing up at him through her wet lashes. “I hope you are right.”
The trouble was that she knew how stubborn Alice could be. She was stubborn enough that she’d managed to convince her deeply conservative parents to let her keep Ryan near her instead of giving him up at birth. She was stubborn enough to think she could woo and win an earl who knew her story. Maeve was desperately afraid that would also mean she was stubborn enough to break off a lifelong friendship over a man.
Nothing had ever made Avery feel quite as helpless as watching Maeve’s friendship with Miss Woodmont fall to pieces before his eyes. He was at a complete loss as to what to do about it. He’d escorted Maeve back into the house, then waited while she’d gone upstairs to bathe and change, talking with her parents the whole time. Mr. and Mrs. Sperrin had changed their attitudes toward him in a moment when they realized he fully intended to make their daughter a countess, whether he’d ruined her or not.
When Maeve joined them once more—clean and nicely dressed, but clearly depressed in spirit—Mr. and Mrs. Sperrin had failed to show deference to her feelings. They’d disparaged Miss Woodmont for turning her back on a friend who was about to be so highly placed and hinted that they weren’t entirely pleased with Miss Woodmont’s reputation. Avery didn’t think they actually knew about her child, but they didn’t seem to care much for Miss Woodmont all the same.
“Which was terribly gauche of them, if you ask me,” he told his sister, Angeline, hours later, when he was home, cleaned up himself, and taking afternoon tea with Angeline and Rafe, as well as Rory and Siobhan Feeney. “They could see that their daughter was deeply distressed at the loss of the friendship, and all they wanted to do was talk about how quickly they could put together the grandest wedding Ballymena has ever seen.
“I thought our wedding was the grandest Ballymena has ever seen,” Rory said, winking at Siobhan.
Instead of following along with his teasing, Siobhan rolled her eyes at her husband. “Now is not the time for joking, my love,” she said, patting his knee as though he were a disobedient child. From what Avery had observed of the newlyweds, they quite frequently treated each other as though they were disobedient children. He didn’t want to think about how that likely extended into their bedchamber.
He cleared his throat, adjusted the way he sat in his chair near the fireplace, and took a sip of tea before going on. “It was disgraceful, and the Sperrins’ behavior made me deeply happy to have asked for Maeve’s hand. I cannot wait to remove her from that difficult household and to help her establish one of her own.”
“I am very proud of you, brother,” Angeline said, treating him to one of her angelic smiles as she smoothed a hand over her round belly. “And so happy that you have finally decided to settle and perhaps begin a family of your own?” She lifted her brow and blushed. “Little Bernard and this one would be so happy to have cousins to grow up with.”
“One thing at a time, my dear,” Avery said, his face heating. For all he knew, he might have granted his sister’s wish the night before. He hoped there would be more time for him and Maeve to enjoy each other intimately before the inevitable children, though.
“It seems to me that, before your lovely bride can find happiness in marriage and family, she needs to reconcile with her bosom friend,” Siobhan said with a wise look. “Maeve Sperrin and Alice Woodmont have been known to be the closest of friends for ages.”
“Precisely,” Avery said. “Which is why I found her parents’ complete deafness to the misery Maeve was feeling to be abhorrent. And it is also why I feel I must do something to make things right, as it could be argued I am the reason they went wrong.”
That caused the others to sit up.
“How are you the cause of a tiff between two female friends?” Rafe asked with a look of genuine confusion.
Angeline and Siobhan glanced to him as though he were an extreme dolt.
“I have reason to believe Miss Woodmont had set her heart on becoming my bride, and that she was deeply disappointed when I offered for Maeve instead,” he said. He would have said more, and one quick glance at Rory and Siobhan told him that they understood. He would not divulge Miss Woodmont’s secret to Angeline and Rafe, though, even if Angeline was his dearest sister.
“That isn’t any reason to call off a friendship,” Rafe said, even more puzzled without the full information behind the break.
“Whatever the case,” Avery rushed on so that they would be out of danger of secrets coming out, “I feel as though it is my responsibility to repair the friendship and put everything to right. Preferably before the wedding.”
“And how do you propose to do that?” Siobhan asked, one eyebrow raised doubtfully.
“I am open to suggestions,” Avery said, sending a pleading look around to the others.
“It seems quite simple, if you ask me,” Rafe said with a shrug. “You merely need to sit the two women down and explain to them that they are behaving foolishly and that there is no point in destroying a friendship over something so silly.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Siobhan and Angeline hummed and snorted, rolled their eyes and made sounds of derision.
“What is so wrong with that?” Rory asked, as if offended by their reaction. “Obviously, what is needed in this situation is a bit of cool rationality, since very little has been displayed thus far.”
That caused Siobhan and Angeline to snort and shake their heads even more.
“I suppose the facts of the situation should be laid out to
them,” Avery said, rubbing his chin. He suspected that the reason his sister and cousin Siobhan were reacting with such dismissiveness was because they thought they knew better. But Rory and Rafe had the right idea, as far as he was concerned. “They are behaving irrationally. They should be told as much.”
“How is Miss Sperrin behaving irrationally in this matter?” Angeline asked indignantly.
“And you propose to repair a friendship through lecture?” Siobhan brushed on, equally taken aback.
“Well, through instruction, perhaps,” Avery said. “The ladies in question are not weighing the pros and cons adequately. They are squandering the capital that they have built up with each other over the years. It simply isn’t logical for them to break now.”
Angeline and Siobhan laughed at him.
“Dear Avery,” Angeline said, leaning over her round stomach to pat his hand as it rested on the arm of his chair, “you understand nothing about women.”
Avery huffed a laugh. “I believe that much is obvious.”
“What would you suggest, my love?” Rafe asked, gazing at his wife as though she were a fount of wisdom.
“You must give the two ladies time,” Angeline said, resting back on the sofa and snuggling against Rafe’s side, in spite of the fact that they were in mixed company, not all of which was family. “They will begin to miss each other and yearn for their friendship, and then all will be dealt with and forgiven.”
“Yes, dear, but time is the one thing we do not have in this situation,” Avery argued. “I need to depart for London in a month, and Maeve has agreed to have the wedding as soon as the banns can be read.”
“So you need a speedy solution to this problem,” Rory said, knitting his brow together in thought. “The ladies need to be forced to see that their behavior is not useful, and that they need to reverse course at once.”
