The Bewildered Bride (Advertisements for Love)
Page 20
“Oh, you.”
“Yes, me. Just because you are done with me doesn’t mean I feel the same. Why else would I bring you daisies?”
“You gave them to my mother.”
“Well, she was the only one talking to me. Your sister’s still miffed.”
“Why are you being so sweet? I tossed you out. I was hysterical.”
His hand slipped again to her back. “A dignified sort of hysterical. I’m being sweet because I can be, because you make me want to be sweet to you. If you are still fretting about onlookers, a simple kiss will put all their questions to rest. We’re just a family out for a day of pleasure.”
The word family repeated on her lips. She looked confused and a little fragile.
He made a hearty laugh. “That’s a joke, Mrs. Wilky. I suppose I do too much of that.”
“I think I need to laugh more.”
“Ruth, that’s why we are a good match, but I am your friend. I intend to be one to Christopher. He’s a good boy, an active boy.”
He set the lad down again.
Christopher sat between Wycliff’s legs, swatting the tassel on his boot.
“You don’t have to say, but I want to know. Why did you come back to London? I had heard you were living in the country.”
“I can’t keep up with Chris, not with my poor sight. I needed to be with people. Chris needs a family, a big one.”
Wycliff tightened his hold about her. “Glad to be of service. It’s fine to need people. I need and respect you.”
He looked down at Christopher and put his hand on the lad’s head.
This could be Adam’s son.
This was his son.
This would be his son. “My boy, how is the boat?”
“Good. But no frogs.”
“Christopher, watch how the water bobbles. You, Ruth, close your eyes.”
Her nose wrinkled, but her arm had circled Wycliff’s waist. “Not doing it, sir. I have to watch my Chris frog, even though I know you are observing.”
The dory floated to the center of the Thames. The craft swayed and rocked and made Christopher giggly. Ruth clung so tight to Wycliff, he felt the boning of her corset and loved the heat of her breath on his chin.
“I did not plan this, Ruth. I wish I could take credit for being the manipulative mastermind you think I am, but I’m glad you’re here.”
“Yes, Mama. Water and then frogs.”
“Don’t go hopping, son, until we are on solid ground,” he said. “Agree, Christopher, or no more adventures.”
“Hmmm. What? Water, my lord?”
“Chris,” she said in a stern voice that made the boy stop wiggling, “listen to Lord Wycliff. You mind him, you hear.”
“Yes, Mama.”
The boy frowned, but with the next big wave, he smiled and slobbered.
“I’m not unhappy, either, Lord Wycliff.”
She reached up, knocking at his cravat.
He cocked his head as if to ensure his collar stayed in place. This might be the only day they had together. He didn’t want something like inconvenient truths ruining it.
Again, she stretched, and he jerked a little.
“See, Wycliff, you’re jumpy, too.”
“I suppose.” He checked his collar. It still covered his scars. Returning his arm about her, he eased her against him.
“Are they still looking at us?”
He swiveled his head. “Yes. But they’ll say nothing. They’ve made up in their minds that we are a family. Good strangers.”
“You look very natural with Chris.”
“I had an excellent father. I’ll be a good one to him, my son.”
She stopped looking up at Wycliff.
Maybe he’d said too much. But this was his truth. The truthteller needed to hear it.
“Hold to my leg, young man. I think your mother needs a bigger hug.”
“Wycliff, I’m fine.”
“Maybe I’m not. It’s been several months since I’ve been on a vessel. My time wasn’t happy. I was angry and grieving. It was hard.”
Her hand closed about his.
With an arm about her waist, he dipped his chin, resting upon her bonnet. “I suppose we need each other right now. Listen to the waves, Ruth. They are lapping against the boat. Take deep breaths. Smell how fresh the air is. So different than London.”
Ruth curled more into him. “Yes, different. Not like the docks.”
Wycliff was at peace being a friend to Ruth and Christopher. It was the first time he’d felt that way since returning.
Wasn’t this how things were supposed to be, them against the world?
Christopher climbed up on the bench and forced his way onto Wycliff’s lap. “Tell me now about my daddy. Gama says you knew him.”
“Chris, this isn’t the place.”
Her tone sounded panicked, but she had nothing to fear. Wycliff would make himself sound great.
“Your father loved boats. All kinds of boats: big ones, small ones, blue ones.”
“I like blue,” Christopher said.
“And he was brave, little Wilky. One time he and his papa, they sailed on a river. And Ad… and your father caught a big fish, bigger than him. It was a big, stinky fish.”
“I like big fish. Not stinky ones. What else? Was he nice?”
“He was and brave, too. The bravest. And he loved your mother more than anything. He didn’t do everything right, but he did what was in his heart.”
Ruth blinked her heavy lashes.
From the smile on her face, Wycliff knew he did good.
Chris yanked on his cravat. “But why did he have to die? I want to play with him.”
Wycliff closed his eyes. This question was trouble. There was no easy answer to this, especially since he was not dead.
He touched the boy’s face. “That’s like asking why I’m tall and why you’re short. Why your mother is beautiful and that woman over there is still gawking. Sometimes things happen. Sometimes bad men win. Then sometimes, sometimes, judgement comes, and everything is made good again.”
“Oh.” Chris frowned and then turned back toward the approaching island.
The attention of a child.
“Look at the foam cresting on the water. Mrs. Wilky, Master Wilky, this is why we have to have days like this. We are made to enjoy the water and the sun, all these creations. We live to remember this joy, not the bad.”
Chris reached back and grabbed Wycliff’s jaw and leaned his forehead to Wycliff’s. “You talk smart. That’s what Grampa says.”
“Yes, I’ve been told that.”
“Grown-folk things. That’s what Gama says.”
Ruth’s smile possessed a smile.
It hit him. The elusive peace Wycliff had been chasing was here in his arms. He needed to protect it at all cost.
The bad men that threatened this peace had to be finished sooner.
Adam—his memories and his faults—also needed to die.
Then Wycliff would be resurrected as a friend, Ruth and Christopher’s friend.
He could be that and be content.
But Ruth was a truthteller.
Truthtellers needed truth.
Why did the truth and peace have to be diametrically opposed?
Why did grown-up things have to be so hard?
…
I truly needed opera glasses, something on a chain that I could slip on and off my nose with ease to avoid a headache and enjoy wonderful Vauxhall Gardens. The colors, the sights and sounds of the island, were brilliant.
This place was big, loud, and bright. It was wonderful. I purposed to be me, the me before all the bad, before Gretna Green, before everything. I’d be the me who’d talked to a cute boy on the docks.
“Twirl me, Wycliff.”
“What, Ruth?”
“Twirl me, my lord.”
“What? Now?”
Gripping Wycliff’s hand so tight, I spun myself, then he caught on and whirled me past the musica
l hexagonal stand.
A horn sounded. The notes vibrated through me.
Chris jumped up and down as I fluttered about Wycliff. I moved so close to him that I could be a part of his waistcoat. I definitely wore his fragrant Bay Rum cologne.
The baron smiled, a full one with his kissable lips.
He didn’t say anything, didn’t seem to mind.
I felt nonsensical having told him to leave and never come back. He was kind, and I was blessed.
“Christopher,” Wycliff said, “let’s see what the vendors have. Maybe we’ll see a frog there?”
My son squealed with delight and hopped around and around us.
The baron was gentle with my boy and had called him son a few times. On the last one, I knew he meant it. I wondered why I was still fighting the draw to this man, especially when I knew how good he would be to Chris.
Faces whipped about me, coming in and out of focus.
But music surrounded me, keeping me here, grounding me in sweetness. It felt good. I leaned into this feeling. I was strong, my boy was gleeful, and I had a friend who adored me.
Huff in. Huff out. I puffed air into my mouth and kept my wits. The silk flags of orange and blue twirled in the wind. Was that a hot-air balloon in the distance?
Rough hands, worn and calloused, soothed my cheeks.
“Why did you stop leading me, Ruth?”
Had I?
I guessed I had stopped to admire the big silk ball, the enormous flames keeping it up. I tugged his palms down but held on to them. “It’s so colorful here. I’m good. I’m wonderful. You’re with me.”
“Yes, I am. And you keep surprising me. I like your surprises.”
I glanced at him, again absorbing the beauty of a man with luscious dark eyes. But Wycliff looked nervous, biting his glorious bottom lip. What would he think if I kissed him right here in this crowd?
The notion shocked me.
Bold me would do it, but what would come next? I wasn’t ready for next.
“Mama. Mama. Game.”
“Mrs. Wilky,” the baron said as he wrapped my palm about his. “Master Wilky is intrigued by a game of chance. A barrel toss.”
When I settled my spectacles, I saw my Chris on his tiptoes, stretching against the wood stand. His little lungs burst with giggles as he jumped up. “Game.”
Hmm. Wine barrels stood on end, each missing a lid. “What is it? How does it work?”
“Toss the sack in the barrel—like that man, Mama.”
My boy didn’t know it was impolite to point, but I’d been remiss in bringing him outside around people.
Wycliff lifted my chin, his eyes claiming mine. “Not up to a game of chance? Is there another risk you wish to take?”
Chris tugged on the baron’s jacket. “Mama has good aim.”
The man chortled. It was a return to his condescending laugh.
I welcomed it.
Things were feeling too put together and seamless between us. I needed a reminder of why we couldn’t be.
“I saw your mother’s tricks in the garden, but this is not a parlor or a birdbath.”
Wycliff’s raspy voice sounded sweet poking fun at me. It was a wonder how an awful thing could be appealing.
I stopped him from moving on, holding on to his lapel, even fingering his cravat, like a saucy temptress. “Let me try.”
“Uhm. Yes. I know you can do anything you set your lovely mind to, but these games of chance are set against patrons. I refuse to allow you to be cheated.”
His words sounded gallant and almost delicate in a way, but I’d let my fear take away too much of the good. No more. That girl on the docks would try. So, I would do so.
“I can win with your help. Make the vendor go to the farthest ring, say ‘here’ and tap the barrel. Make him do that a few times with each one.”
His brow lifted. Wycliff surely wasn’t convinced, but he tipped his hat. “It shall be done.”
A headache threatened, but nothing would stop me. Sliding my spectacles into my reticule, I squinted and saw a thin blur taking a shiny coin from my blurry Wycliff.
The baron put a sack into my palm. “Let’s see you what you can do.”
I heard Chris giggle. In my head, I saw his wide grin stretched between his chubby cheeks.
“Go, Mama.”
My son, my happiness, cheered me on.
My friend hovered. I felt secure, but I had to show him my confidence. It wasn’t lost in me.
I rolled my fingers over the burlap. The smoothness of the shifting beans inside was very different than my rocks.
The vendor shouted and tapped the barrels.
I made a map in my mind—noises, distances. I took aim.
With a flick of my wrist, I sent the burlap flying.
Thwack.
Boom. I knew the sack hit a barrel, but it fell to the ground.
Wycliff chuckled. He put his big hands on my shoulders and offered a massage. The feel of it made me tense, then I grew used to his touch. I craved it.
“Ah, so close, Ruth.”
“A first try, my lord.” Loving the feel of his thumbs caressing my neck, I pinched my lids tighter. The image in my head was of him and Chris, pure happiness, but I still had to prove myself. “Announce yourself again, shopkeeper. Strike the one I hit again.”
The blur slapped the barrel, and it made a drumming thud. “It’s here, lady, here.”
I measured the echo, the vendor’s yelp. In my head, I adjusted the angle of my elbow, the force at which the sack should leave my fingers, then let it fly.
Thwack. Swoosh.
I knew it hit the barrel, then the sack dropped inside.
Chris’s screams of glee confirmed my accuracy. “You did it, Mama!”
Then clapping. “Well done, ma’am. A few weekly outings with Wilky and me, you’ll have your shot cleanly made.”
“Don’t sass Mama.”
“Chris.” I tried to hush him but inside I felt proud.
“Yes, your mother has already taught me to watch what I say.”
His laugh sounded tentative. I knew I wanted his friendship, again. I liked being with him without feeling trapped. I liked him. “Another go.”
Wycliff put the sack in my hands, but I wasn’t talking about the game. I wanted us to have another go.
Holding onto his fingers, I leaned into him. “When we have a moment, we should discuss things.”
It was bold of me, to tell a man what I wanted, but I felt powerful. I was outside in the sun with my boy and this baron who respected me. I felt like me again.
His furry dimples showed. “You have my attention.”
Sliding next to him, I positioned myself to throw, made a final adjustment to my wrist to how much power I would offer, then I let go and launched. The sack flew.
Swoosh.
Dead in the barrel, no rim.
Chris jumped, pulling on my skirts. I heard Wycliff clapping. “Well done, Ruth.”
I gave them each a curtsy.
Wycliff took my hand, and I had Chris’s.
“Impressive, my dear,” the baron’s whisper tickled my ear. “I suppose, persevering after a few failures is the correct course.”
“It is.” Confident from my win, I led them out of the crowd. Half up a grassy knoll, I stopped in place. “I don’t know where to go next.”
Yawning, my baby wobbled onto my emerald slippers.
“Wilky, I think our champion should take a rest in the shade.”
Wycliff’s arm wrapped about my waist, and I came to him. The embrace was gentle and reassuring. “You ready for a rest, Ruth?”
No, but I was ready for things to be different.
“What is it, Ruthy?”
“Lead me.”
His hand found mine, our fingers entwined. We walked in step like we’d done this for years. He headed us toward the trees.
I didn’t want to be near the woods, or Dark Walk, as it was called, but Wycliff and Chris stood with me.
>
Trust filled my chest, until I heard buttons being undone.
A gasp stuck in my throat, but it was Wycliff’s coat.
“Ruth, I’m laying down my cloak for you.”
He eased me to sit.
I couldn’t stand not seeing anymore. I tore into my reticule and found my spectacles. With them on, I glanced at Wycliff and Chris.
The baron spun my boy around and around then set him to the ground.
“Chris, stay put. Take care of your mother. I’ll get us refreshments.”
My baby was so happy, grinning and giggling. He’d had the best day ever.
With another yawn, he laid his head on my thigh. I stroked his short curls. “Love you, baby. You are my world. You are perfect.”
I saw his toothy smile as his eyes closed. In my soul, I promised to give him more memories like this.
Soon, Wycliff walked toward us. His hands were full of things, but it was Adam’s swagger that choked me up.
He moved the way my love had when he’d come to me on the docks, or that last night at the inn when we’d been turned out.
I couldn’t speak or breathe.
The baron probably thought me silent because Chris had fallen asleep, but I was confused.
Who did I want? Moments ago, it was Wycliff.
Why did I see Adam when I’d started to let myself like his cousin? How dare Adam be in my head, when things were finally clear?
Wycliff carried a loaf with thin slices of mutton piled atop.
He eased beside me. “I suppose I overdid it with the boy. Being a good cousin is a little new for me.”
I was nervous, struggling for what to say, and decided to joke. “Well, not everyone has an uncle like you and Adam. Doesn’t promote strong families.”
Wycliff groaned. His arm stiffened. “I don’t want to talk about him.”
“Adam?”
“Huh… No, my uncle. The man has wrought such evil.”
“Sorry. Your relationship with him is as bad as Adam’s? I won’t mention him.”
“Good. I don’t want this day ruined.”
I’d said the wrong thing. His face had become so tense.
“I’m sorry.”
“No, Ruth. I am. Adam made a mistake drawing you into his fight.”
“What?”
“You eloped in the middle of a violent disagreement between Adam and Uncle Soulden.”
I almost clasped Wycliff’s hand, but I clutched the bread. “I chose to go. We thought we had to be together.”