“It was our pleasure to have you young people.” She slapped palm to forehead. “I clean forgot. I have a little wedding gift for you.” She tugged Gillian back into the house.
“Are you sure I can’t pay you for our room and board?” Alex asked as he took hold of the reins from Melvin.
“No, you just take care of that little lady. I know y’all weren’t expecting to get married this way, but if it makes any difference, me and Gladys had a shotgun wedding ourselves, and next June we’ll be married seventy years. Best thing ever happened to me.”
Alex never expected to hear Melvin say so much in one breath. “That’s quite an achievement. Congratulations.”
“Sometimes the Lord works in mysterious ways, but it’s always the best way. I got a feeling you and your misses will wind up just as happy as me and Gladys.”
Alex could hope, but it wasn’t likely, so he just smiled and glanced in the direction of the house. Where was Gillian?
“All it takes is love.” Melvin looked over the horses’ heads. “And y’all got more than you realize. I saw the way you looked at your bride, and I noticed the way she grabbed your hand and hung on. She trusts you. That’s the cornerstone of a good marriage—trust.”
Did she trust him? Maybe she did, more than she should. More than she should trust any man, especially one who’d tasted her lips.
But would she trust him when she knew all he kept from her?
As soon as they’d cleared the town, Gillian called a halt. What now? Alex turned his horse to find her pulling the muslin shift over her head. She’d worn it over her boy’s clothing to spare the kindly couple the insult of seeing her dressed that way.
She wadded the ugly dress into a ball and got ready for a pitch. He couldn’t resist teasing her. “Throwing your wedding dress away?”
Instead of tossing it in the bushes as her hand indicated, she threw it to him and took off. The shabby garment snagged on the saddle horn. He slung it over a low hanging branch where it flew like a flag in the wind. Maybe Jubal or Tillie would see it there. He urged his horse into a gallop to catch up with Gillian. “What was Gladys’s wedding gift?”
She slowed to a canter and fished a rolled piece of fabric from inside her coat, then handed it to him.
He opened the cloth. A sampler with the simple message, God bless our home. All humor left him. There would be no home to bless. He returned the cloth to her outstretched hand. “Despite everything, I’m glad you came so you could hear what Jubal McElroy said for yourself. He was right that I was in command at the prisoner of war camp, and I was too harsh to the Confederates. It doesn’t excuse anything, but my brother had just been killed, and I was out for revenge. Your brother’s death woke me up to what I’d become, and I sought God’s forgiveness. Now I can only beg you to forgive me for my part in your brother’s death.”
Gillian jerked back on the reins, and he turned, drawing up beside her. When she remained silent, he said. “I want you to know, I’m going to do all I can to have his remains returned to your family for proper burial.”
She leveled a cool blue stare straight into his eyes. “If God forgives you, how can I withhold it, but my forgiveness isn’t necessary. I don’t believe the soldier McElroy spoke of was my brother.”
“How can you deny what McElroy said? He described everything as it occurred.”
“He didn’t even know Will’s name. I know my brother, and he would never have allowed anyone to call him Carrot. I recall on his twelfth birthday, he refused to allow anyone but me and Papa to call him Will. From then on, he insisted everyone else address him as William. Mama already called him that.”
“Gillian, McElroy identified the photograph of your brother.”
She ignored him. “And Will wasn’t quiet. He talked all the time. Like me. And no one could be in Will’s presence more than ten minutes without hearing that wildcat story. And if you didn’t show proper astonishment, you’d hear it over and over again.”
Alex took in the set of her chin, the tilt of her head, her hair stuffed under the bowler. She painted such a vivid picture of Will, he had to believe she was right. Was it possible her brother wasn’t the young soldier he’d ordered shot?
He’d once stepped on a thorn, and it just about went clear through his foot. When it was pulled out, the relief was almost as jolting as the pain. That same feeling swept through him now. It was possible, maybe even likely, he hadn’t killed her brother.
“Your guilt makes you jump to conclusions, Alex,” Gillian said. “A guilty conscience will do that—make you jump to conclusions. I know what I speak of.”
Despite her youth, she possessed a wisdom beyond her years. He’d stop trying to convince her Will was likely dead. “I pray you’re right.” He smiled and reached out to trail a finger down her cheek. Their eyes locked in one of those soul-searching gazes, and affinity filled the space between them.
She broke the spell. “We’d better pick up our pace if we expect to catch the train and get to Atlanta by dark. Although I could hardly be in more trouble than I already am.” She thrust her knees into the horse’s flanks.
True enough. Besides, at a full gallop, they wouldn’t be able to talk.
But both had a lot of thinking to do.
Chapter 18
Well, here we are.” Gillian hoped her blithe tone matched her fake smile. “And all is quiet. No evidence of them setting the hounds out yet.”
Alex set the buggy’s brake in front of Aunt Mandy’s carriage house and ducked his head. “We made good time by skipping supper. It isn’t even full dark yet.”
She jumped to the ground. “You don’t have to stay.”
He stepped from the buggy seat. “Yes, I do. Whatever happens, we’re in this together—Mrs. Blaine.”
She laughed. He didn’t mean it, but somewhere in the deepest part of her heart where dreams and fairytales resided, she wished she was Mrs. Blaine. She’d learned a lot about Alex on this escapade. That he could be tender, kind, protective, even humble. She’d never known a man to be humble, and never would she have expected it from Alex the Great. She’d misjudged him in so many ways, and maybe misjudged herself as well.
She stood for a long moment, just staring at him, until he lifted his brow. “Hadn’t you better sneak inside and change? I’ll keep Amanda occupied in the parlor until you come down.”
“What are you going to tell her?”
“I’ll tell her you’re perfectly safe, and you’ll confess all when you join us.”
Oh, he had to remind her. She’d promised to confess everything. Somehow that didn’t seem such a formidable task after all. If anyone could find a way to avoid a scandal, it was Aunt Mandy. And if she couldn’t, did it really matter compared to the danger that stalked all of them?
She did hope they hadn’t alerted Papa. Not that she wouldn’t confess to him in time. He just had so much to worry him at present.
Thankfully, the servant’s entrance was unlocked, and she ran up the back stairs and managed to get to her bedroom without being seen. She quickly changed into her plainest afternoon dress, a drab olive green that could be pretty with an added collar, cuffs and sash. But she wouldn’t take time to search for those items. She wouldn’t leave Alex alone with Aunt Mandy any longer than necessary.
Only when she reached the stair landing did she wonder what she would say. The truth was all that came to mind. That was a new experience, too. She’d gotten so used to wiggling out of scrapes by inventing stories, it was jolting when not the barest hint of temptation came. God had taken her at her word that she would change her ways.
She lifted her chin and marched into the parlor.
Seated on her favorite blue velvet settee, Aunt Mandy’s pale face was etched in distress. Purity gripped the edges of the wing back chair where she sat.
Alex had found the farthest chair by the window. The shadow of his beard attested to the ordeal he’d endured, making him appear rakish—and utterly handsome. She’d never be able to look at him again
without wondering what it would be like if he were her husband.
She took her place beside her aunt and tried to think of a soft entry into the story.
“I suppose you know you’ve put several new gray hairs in my head,” Aunt Mandy said.
“How much did Alex tell you?”
“Very little. He wanted you to tell us, but before you do, perhaps I should give you my side.” Aunt Mandy regained her composure. “When Purity showed me the note you left, I knew it was a lie. Why? Because you and I think alike, and I remember how I was at your age. I can only thank the Lord for looking out for me. I shudder to think of how I might have ended.”
“I’m sure you weren’t nearly as…difficult as I was.”
“Purity mentioned that you’d taken Will’s old clothes, and I knew Alex was going to investigate what happened to Will, so I put two and two together. I went to Alex’s office, and a nice young attaché told me Alex was taking the seven o’clock train north. I then stopped by the depot and discovered that a young man by the name of Gil Carey had indeed purchased a ticket shortly before seven.”
“I never could outsmart you, but I’m glad you knew I’d be with Alex.”
“Yes, I hoped Alex would return you on the next train.” She shot daggers at Alex. “But as the day progressed, I realized that hadn’t happened. I was left to imagine all sorts of horrible things. To make matters worse, Julia showed up.”
Gillian slid to the edge of her seat. “She didn’t know I was missing?” No. Papa must not know, and Julia would surely tell him.
“No, she came to make sure I invited Reuben to the cotillion.” Aunt Mandy drew in a deep breath. “And to tell me your father has given Reuben permission to court you and ask for your hand in marriage.”
Gillian shot to her feet. “Marriage? Papa knows I detest Reuben Dabney. I don’t believe he’d do that to me.”
“Sit down dear. You obviously don’t understand how much control Julia has over your father, and she’s obsessed with the idea that her brother marry you. It’s like her obsession that she become mistress of Lynwood.”
Gillian flopped back against the settee’s cushioned back. “I should think since she got Papa, she’d be satisfied.”
“People like that are never satisfied. I remember how conniving Julia was, even as a girl. She’d no sooner come out of pinafores than she set her sights on one of your brothers. I don’t think she really cared which.”
“She must have been disappointed when my brothers didn’t return from the war.”
“Devastated, I’d say, especially since the darkies had run off, and the Cedars was going to ruin. Her father had died, and she must have realized it was a matter of time before Reuben would bring a wife to take over. Anyway, the Cedars was so inferior to Lynwood.”
“Then Mama died, and she turned her attention to Papa.”
“Indeed. Why Gilbert married Julia, I’ll never know. I suppose he hoped, by marrying a young woman, he’d have more children.”
“But Julia hasn’t produced any children.”
Aunt Mandy lowered her voice so Alex couldn’t hear. “It’s my opinion she doesn’t want children. I’d be surprised if she even shares Gilbert’s bed.”
This was more than Gillian wished to know. “None of that explains why she wants Reuben to marry me.”
“Because your father is threatening to make out his will, leaving all his property to you until you are settled.”
“But all he has left is the townhouse.”
“Julia still thinks Gilbert will get Lynwood back. Apparently, he’s spent very little of the proceeds.”
Gillian waved her hands in a slashing motion. “Wait—I thought he used it to renovate the townhouse.”
“Does it look renovated?”
No, it didn’t. The question had crossed her mind that the proceeds of Lynwood must have been enough to bring the Dogwood Lane house back to its former glory. Yet, according to Papa they had to take in boarders to make ends meet. She remembered Julia screaming, “Where did the money go?” What had he done with his money? She sent a glance from Purity to Alex, both of them doing their best to stay out of the conversation.
Aunt Mandy patted her knee. “I told Julia, Reuben would certainly be invited to the cotillion. And really, dear, you should reconsider him. Frankly, there are few eligible men of good breeding left in the South. Those of marriageable age are destitute. Reuben Dabney owns the Cedars and has a thriving business here in Atlanta. Besides, Reuben—as a man—is weak. When a woman is as strong-willed as you, it helps to have a compliant husband.”
Gillian frowned. She didn’t want a weak, compliant husband. Her husband must be strong. Confident. A leader. But humble. She recalled how Alex had humbled himself before that scoundrel who’d held a gun on him. Alex could have easily claimed his authority as an army officer, threatened to send soldiers into that enclave of crazies. But he hadn’t. He’d apologized for the way the prisoners were treated at Chickamauga. He’d asked for their forgiveness.
Her sigh turned into a shudder. What she’d told Alex about looking for a man like her father was wrong. She had to admit Papa was weak. She saw that now. He’d let Mama sway his judgment, choosing to run away from his problems rather than face them. And now Julia. Yet it had brought nothing but misery to him and both his wives.
She caught Alex’s gaze from across the room. This must be awkward for him to listen to his “wife” discussing marriage to another man. Maybe he was being too humble. She was more than a little bit disappointed he didn’t stand up and claim her. Maybe she should find out how strong he was.
“I beg to disagree, Aunt Mandy. I’d never marry a weak man. And anyway, I couldn’t marry Reuben even if I wanted to. I’m already married.”
“What?” Now it was Aunt Mandy’s turn to leap from her seat. She looked from Gillian to Alex, and the blood drained from her already pale face. Swaying, she reached out for support. Alex got to her before she toppled over. After getting her settled, he took the chair across from them.
“I’ll get some water,” Purity said.
Aunt Mandy recovered enough to call to the fleeing girl, her voice rasping. “Bring your notepad and pencil.”
When Purity returned, Aunt Mandy drank deeply of the water with closed eyes. Then she returned the glass to Purity. Her blue eyes bored into Gillian. “Do you care to explain yourself?”
Gillian cast a pleading glance to Alex. If he was the leader she knew him to be, he’d step in and rescue her.
He cleared his throat. “The fellow I went to interrogate belonged to a religious sect that apparently believed Gillian and I were traveling together without the benefit of marriage and—” He coughed. “They felt it their duty to save us from the lake of fire. At least that’s the way their preacher put it. That, along with the shotgun in my back convinced us to go along with their charade.”
That wouldn’t satisfy Aunt Mandy. Gillian’s lips twitched as she tried not to laugh at the expression on her aunt’s face. “But Alex says it won’t be difficult to annul the wedding.”
Aunt Mandy pressed her fist to her heart, her chest rising and falling visibly. She shook her head. “You’re right, of course. It’s nothing that can’t be undone.” Her scorching stare would’ve sent them up in flames if she hadn’t bounded from the settee and sailed to the door. Poking her head through the opening, she looked one way and the other before shutting the door firmly.
Gillian exchanged a questioning look to Alex as Aunt Mandy returned to her seat like a commander charging into battle. “Whatever is said amongst us must never be revealed outside this room, is that agreed?”
They all nodded in unison like schoolchildren.
“This so-called wedding must be kept secret for the time being. Don’t even attempt to get a legal annulment yet. I know the lawyers in this town, and I don’t trust any of them.”
She shifted to the edge of her seat. “Now, this is what we’re going to do. I’m moving the date of the cotillio
n to this week. Reuben will come, and, Gillian, you will give him most of your attention.”
Gillian opened her mouth to protest, but Aunt Mandy cut her short. “But not all. You will behave as any young lady at her come-out party. Take care that your interaction with Alex is strictly casual.”
“So, I’m still invited?” Alex asked.
“Of course, you have your own objectives to take care of.”
Gillian sent a sharp glance to Alex. What objectives did he have? Then it hit her. The cotillion wasn’t for her benefit. It was just an excuse for some underlying purpose. She’d seen the guest list and most were couples or old men. There were few eligible bachelors on the lists. Not that Gillian cared. She already had a husband. Of sorts.
No wonder Aunt Mandy had about fainted. This forced marriage had almost spoiled her plans. Whatever those plans were, she didn’t want people to think her niece and a Yankee officer were developing feelings for each other, much less married.
That rubbed Gillian the wrong way. She had a right to choose the man she associated with. To enjoy her party. “Very well, I’ll fawn over Reuben Dabney, but if he proposes, I’ll tell him I’m honored by his request, but my affections are otherwise engaged. And they are.”
All three pairs of eyes pinned her with a startled glare, like she’d morphed into a stranger. And maybe she had. She didn’t really understand these new emotions motivating her. The idea of an annulment was becoming more and more distasteful. Yet, Alex still expected one.
She wiped her sweaty palms over her skirt, but stood her ground. “I want all to understand by the end of the party that…that I have a liking for Alex.”
Alex’s mouth quirked into a smile, she didn’t know from amusement or her bold words. Either way, it was high time he knew how she felt.
Aunt Mandy’s shoulders fell in defeat. “Very well. We’ll be leaving after the dance and taking carriages down by the river. We’ve built a lovely gazebo there, and a band will be playing past mid-night. Take all this down, Purity. We’ll have a bonfire and fireworks as well.” She turned her attention to Gillian. “We’ll make sure Alex is your escort to the bonfire, but not in an obvious way.”
The Captain's Challenge (The Wolf Deceivers Series Book 3) Page 18
