by Merry Farmer
“Spoken like a true captain of industry,” Siobhan said in a wry voice, exchanging a grin with Angeline.
A stroke of inspiration hit Avery, and he sat up straighter. “I think you are right,” he said, tapping his chin as ideas flew to him.
“Don’t listen to him, Avery,” Siobhan said. “My darling husband is most certainly not right.”
“But I think he is, to a degree,” Avery said. He glanced at the others, then spoke aloud the plan that was forming in his mind. “Maeve and Miss Woodmont need to be forced to come to terms with each other as quickly as possible. And the best way to do that is to put them in a situation where they cannot help but talk things through.”
“I’m not certain I like this,” Angeline said.
“No, I think your brother is on to something,” Rafe said, sitting a bit straighter. “I think you should find a way to seclude the two women in a room together and not let them out until they’ve sorted things.”
“No!” Siobhan protested.
“I think you’re exactly right,” Avery said, scooting to the end of his chair. “Think of it,” he went on. “It all makes perfect sense. Sometime in the next three weeks, before the wedding, I need to trap Maeve and Miss Woodmont in a room together.”
“And how do you propose to do that?” Rory asked, his expression thoughtful.
“I could invent some sort of excuse to bring them together,” Avery said. “At a neutral location, of course. Somewhere that they cannot escape. I will lock them in the room and inform them that they are not to come out again until they are friends once more.”
“You’d better provide them with tea and cakes while they’re in there,” Siobhan said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “because with your plan, they might be there for quite some time.”
“Tea and cakes are a must,” Rory agreed with a serious nod.
“Absolutely,” Avery said. “And perhaps comfortable furnishings as well.”
“No, no,” Rafe said, shaking his head. “You’re going about it all wrong.”
“Finally, a voice of reason,” Siobhan said, gesturing toward Rafe.
Rafe went on with, “You need to lock them in a bare room without any refreshments at all. That way, they will be properly motivated to air their differences and resolve them as swiftly as possible.”
Siobhan made a disgusted sound and covered her face with one hand.
Avery raised his eyebrows at her momentarily, then turned to Rafe. “You may be right. If they feel a bit of urgency to leave the room where they are trapped, they will be more likely to resolve things in a timely manner.”
“Then whatever you do, do not put a chamber pot in said room,” Rory said with a grin.
“Ugh, men!” Siobhan threw up her hands and collapsed back into her chair. “The lot of you are useless.”
“But even you must admit that Miss Woodmont and Miss Sperrin need to talk to make things better,” Rory told her.
“I would simply be providing an arena for that to happen,” Avery said. “I would monitor them the entire time from somewhere else in whatever house I use to carry out this plan.”
“It will backfire on you,” Siobhan said.
“At least give them a bit of time to perhaps work things out on their own,” Angeline said carefully. “You may not need to intervene at all.”
“I cannot wait forever,” Avery said, shaking his head. “The wedding will go forward in three weeks, and then my dear Maeve and her friend will be separated by England and the Irish Sea while Parliament is in session.”
“There is still time,” Angeline insisted.
“Yes, dear, of course there is,” Avery told his sister with an indulgent smile.
A large part of him suspected she and Siobhan were right. They knew more about the female disposition than he did. At the same time, he felt the urgency of the situation keenly and knew something needed to be done. It was better, in his opinion, to force the issue as soon as possible than to let it sit around and fester once Maeve and Miss Woodmont were inevitably separated by more than just an argument.
Beyond that, Avery was filled with the conviction that the very best wedding gift he could give to his bride was to restore her full happiness and that of her friend. And who knew? Perhaps once he was able to reconcile the two women, he could find a suitable groom for Miss Woodmont. That way, everyone could be happy.
Chapter 8
Planning one’s wedding was supposed to be a joyous occasion. Maeve had looked forward to it from the time she was a girl. But even though she stood on the verge of marrying a wonderful man who she was certain would make her blissfully happy, she grew more and more melancholy about the whole thing as preparations were made.
“Dear, do stop fussing and show a little interest,” her mother scolded her as the seamstress fitting her wedding gown finished pinning the hem. “This is your wedding gown. We have an appointment with Lord Carnlough’s cook tomorrow to discuss the menu for the reception, and then Lady Coyle herself has invited us to tea. You should be brimming with happiness, not looking as though you are on your way to the gallows.”
“Yes, Mama,” Maeve sighed. She tried to force a smile for the seamstress. Her wedding gown was beautiful, after all. The design employed more lace than she ever would have been able to afford, had she not been marrying an earl. It was a sign that her life was about to become one of privilege and excellence.
And none of it was worth a thing without Alice’s approval.
She hadn’t heard a word from Alice in over ten days. Preparations for the wedding had begun immediately after the engagement, immediately after her horrible fight with Alice, and hadn’t stopped for a moment since. Maeve had tried sending letters to Alice, begging her to come for tea, and even sending Siobhan Feeney to plead her case, but Alice was firm in her silence. Maeve had the terrible feeling Alice would never speak to her again.
Knowing that made everything else pale, even though it was supposed to be the happiest time of her life.
“Well, come along, then,” her mother sighed, nodding to the seamstress as she finished her pinning. “Take that off and we’ll return home. Tea and a nap are precisely what you need.”
“Yes, Mama.”
Maeve let the seamstress help her out of her unfinished wedding gown and into her afternoon dress. She should have been sighing over lace and oohing over pearls, but all Maeve could do as she laced and tightened her boots, then pinned her hat to her head before leaving the shop was sag and wish things were different.
Before she could leave the shop, though, a young lad tumbled into the store, holding out a folded piece of paper.
“Are you Miss Sperrin?” he asked, glancing from Maeve to her mother to the seamstress and settling on Maeve again.
“I am,” she said, curious about what the lad wanted.
“I was told to give this to you,” he said, handing over the paper. “He said it’s a matter of some urgency.”
“Oh?” Maeve opened the missive and read it. “Oh!” She sucked in a breath and placed a hand on her heart. “Lord Carnlough needs me at once. He says there’s a problem with the church and that I am needed to resolve things.”
“We must go at once, then,” her mother said with a sharp nod.
Maeve took another look at the letter. “He says I should come alone.” She glanced to her mother. “The church is only one street down, Mama. Why do you not take the things we’ve purchased home, and I will have Lord Carnlough deliver me there as soon as this church matter is resolved.”
“Indeed,” her mother said, narrowing her eyes and tilting her chin up as though Avery had invited her to a seduction.
Maeve made an impatient sound. “Oh, Mama, really,” she said, crossing to the doorway and grabbing her purse along the way. “He’s asked to meet me at the church. The vicar and his assistant and who knows who else will be there to chaperone.”
“I suppose,” her mother said hesitantly as Maeve walked out the door.
Ma
eve rolled her eyes impatiently as she strode down the street. Regardless of the sadness surrounding her wedding, she would be glad to be a married woman and no longer under the sway of her mother. The sooner that happened the better. She was far to old to be treated the way she was to begin with.
“Avery? Hello?” she called out when she reached the church. The building seemed a bit more deserted than it should in the middle of the day.
“I’m down here,” Avery’s voice answered her from the end of the hall that ran perpendicular to the chapel. “In this room. Please come join me here.”
Maeve started down the hall with a frown. The door at the end of the hall was open, and she saw a hint of movement from inside when she was a few feet away. But instead of Avery, Alice stepped into the doorway.
“What do you mean by that, Lord Carn—” Alice’s question was cut short when she saw Maeve.
A second later, Avery appeared in a second doorway that Maeve had just passed. He rushed toward her so aggressively that Maeve leapt forward on instinct, continuing into the room where Alice stood. Alice backed deeper into the room, and as soon as Avery had shepherded Maeve into the room with her, he slammed the door shut.
The sound of the lock clicking followed.
“What in heaven’s name?” Maeve began, twisting back to the door and knocking on it. “Avery, what is the meaning of this?” she demanded.
“I’ve trapped the two of you together deliberately,” Avery called through the closed door. “It is well past time for the two of you to settle your differences and move on as friends.”
“Avery!” Maeve shouted, pounding on the door. “This isn’t at all amusing. Let us out this instant.”
“I did not come here at your invitation to be held prisoner,” Alice said, striding forward so that she, too, could bang on the door. “This is highly unfair.”
“Bitterly unfair,” Maeve agreed, joining Alice in thumping the door, out of frustration, if nothing else. “You cannot do this.”
“But I have done it, my dear,” Avery said, far too much glee in his voice. “And, at last, the two of you will make up as you should. It was never my intention to break up a friendship, but I feel it is my duty to restore it.”
“I have never heard anything so ridiculous in my life,” Maeve said, pounding the door a few more times for good measure.
“This is highly irregular,” Alice said, stepping back.
“I will not let the two of you out of this room until you are best of friends again,” Avery called to them. “I do not care how long it takes. But you should know that there are no refreshments in the room and no chamber pot, so you may want to resolve things sooner rather than later.”
A part of Maeve wanted to laugh. Avery seemed devilishly pleased with himself. As much as she hated to admit it, she loved him more for his meddling.
All the same, she called through the door, “You will pay for this, Avery O’Shea. Mark my words.”
Avery lowered his voice to a timbre Maeve suspected only she was meant to hear and said, “I certainly hope so.”
That comment left Maeve flushed and her heart thumping.
A moment later, and those emotions ran cold as Avery’s footsteps were heard retreating down the hall. The blackguard had truly trapped her and Alice alone, and he wouldn’t see reason and let them go.
That meant the only thing Maeve could do was pivot to face her friend.
Alice had marched to the other end of the decidedly bare room, hugging herself with a look of fury and hurt and uncertainty. She peeked at Maeve once she reached the other end of the room, then immediately snapped her head away and up when she saw that Maeve was looking at her.
“This is utterly ridiculous,” Maeve said, throwing her arms out to her sides. “I did not ask him to do this or put him up to this in any way.”
Alice merely humphed in response.
Maeve sighed and pressed her fingertips to her forehead, where she felt a headache coming on. The room was sparsely furnished. It held only two wooden chairs that faced each other in the center of the room. That little detail was enough to make Maeve laugh humorlessly as she crossed to sit in one of the chairs, setting her purse on the floor.
“Perhaps after this you won’t be so jealous of me marrying that lout,” she told Alice.
Alice whipped to face her from where she’d been staring out one of the windows. “I am not jealous of you.”
“Aren’t you?” Maeve said with far more sass than she should have. Her patience with Alice was as thin as silk, now that the two of them were alone after nearly two weeks of silence. “You have certainly been behaving as though you are.”
“It is not jealousy,” Alice insisted, marching across the room to the other chair but not sitting in it. “It is the bitterness of betrayal and the frustration of defeat.”
“How have I betrayed you?” Maeve demanded. “How have I defeated you? You seem determined to blame me for all the wrongs in your life when I have not been the one who made the decisions that led to them.”
“Are you saying that I am to blame, then?” Alice squeaked, jerking straight.
“You are only to blame for falling in love and wishing to fall in love again,” Maeve said with an exhausted sigh, pressing her fingertips to her forehead again. “Michael Feeney was to blame for ruining you, and I suppose it could be said that Avery was to blame for not choosing you to be his bride.”
“He was my last chance, Maeve,” Alice lamented, sinking into the chair at last. “He was the only man who has shown even a bit of interest in me in two years. Now, not only am I doomed to be a reviled spinster for the rest of my days, he is taking away my best friend as well.” She lowered her head and burst into tears.
Maeve’s heart caught in her throat. She lowered her hands and gazed miserably at Alice. “I am not leaving you for good,” she said, scooting closer to Alice. “Yes, my duty will be to my husband and our family. Yes, that will take me to London from time to time. But I will never forsake you. I will write whenever possible, and you will always have a place with me and Avery.”
Alice shook her head, wiping tears off her pink and shining face, unable to look Maeve in the eye. “You cannot guarantee that. You will be a countess, which means you will have so many new friends, so many other duties to attend to. You will no longer have time for your old, disgraced friend. And Maeve,” she glanced up, meeting Maeve’s eyes with sudden fear, “I sincerely do not know what will happen to me and Ryan without you.”
“Everything will be fine.” Maeve reached out and took Alice’s hands, squeezing them, even though she wasn’t certain it was a promise she was able to make. “You are a good woman, Alice, and a clever and beautiful one at that. You have had a stumble, but I am certain you will rise again.”
Alice shook her head and reluctantly pulled her hands from Maeve’s. “My father and mother are furious at me for failing to secure Lord Carnlough’s hand,” she said. “They demanded once again that I send Ryan away and that I find a man to marry. They said they will choose for me if I cannot find a man willing to take me on my own.” She pressed a hand to her stomach before going on with, “I have a terrible feeling that they intend for me to marry Mr. Kilpatrick.”
Maeve blinked and sucked in a breath. “That old mill owner who frequents the pubs?”
Alice nodded miserably. “They say he has expressed interest in me.” Her shoulders drooped and she let out a sob. “I will refuse to marry him, of course, and when I do, they will throw me out. What do you think will become of me, and of Ryan, if I have nowhere to live and no one to turn to?”
Maeve’s heart swelled with anger and with love for her friend. She reached out and took Alice’s hand again. “I will not let that happen,” she said. “I swear to you, Alice, I will stand by you, no matter what happens.”
“But how can you if you are away in London?” Alice sniffled. “What can you do if you are a distant countess? Knowing me would be enough to ruin your reputation, and you will
have so much at stake as you begin your new life in London society.”
“I cannot stand by and watch while your parents cast you aside and leave you to fend for yourself,” Maeve said.
“What can you do to stop it?” Alice asked hopelessly.
Maeve’s heart shuddered within her. She felt as though she stood on the edge of a precipice, the most important decision of her life in front of her. She had been so blessed to have every good thing she could imagine come her way, but some things were far more important than having her way and enjoying benefits that Alice would never have.
“We’ll set out together,” she said, making up her mind then and there. “We won’t wait for your parents to throw you out.”
“What do you mean?” Alice blinked at her in astonishment.
Maeve drew in a breath and sat straighter, her determination growing. “I mean just as I said. We’ll take Ryan and go somewhere new, somewhere we can start over. We’ll…we’ll make up a story that our husbands were killed in the army. We could run a boarding house or set up a shop of some sort.” A pang squeezed her heart as she said, “Perhaps we could set up a wool shop.”
Alice must have known what that would cost her. “Lord Carnlough,” she said what Maeve was thinking. “How can we do all that when you are married to an earl and a member of the House of Lords?”
“I won’t marry him,” Maeve said, grief mingling with determination in her gut. “I cannot marry a man and be happy when I know that you are miserable. You are my dearest friend.” She slipped off her chair and knelt in front of Alice, clutching Alice’s hands to her chest. “I will never be able to be happy if I know that you are unhappy. You are my sister and my bosom companion. I would rather let Avery down so that I can stand by you than marry him while I know you are in dire straits.”
“But…but Maeve, you cannot do that.” Alice shook her head a tried to pull her hands away from Maeve’s.
Maeve wouldn’t let her. “I insist,” she said. She stood, bringing Alice with her. “We can do this,” she said. “We can create a perfectly wonderful life together. We are both intelligent and daring. Whatever we set our minds to, we can accomplish it.”
