The Cautious Maiden

by Dawn Crandall

  “Talk to me about something then. I was just wondering about the game of poker earlier tonight. How is poker played that men can lose so much in so little time?”

  Vance chuckled in the shadows created from the pillars of the porch.

  “Poker. Gambling. Bets. How does it all work?” I persisted. “How is it that a bet can create such a stronghold, to keep men to something they’ve promised as if it were the law?”

  “Well, there’s a certain code to poker. It—like many other forms of gambling—is a game of chance and pride. The gamble is, will the chance of your hand beating all others pull through for you?”

  “How did Ezra lose me exactly?”

  “I remember quite clearly, actually. I was at The Hawthorne Inn, and I’d already gone out—”

  “Were you really gambling with them, then?”

  “I was actually there for Dexter’s benefit, spying on your brother. He’s been trying to shut down The Hawthorne Inn for about as long as it’s been a brothel. I’d only just begun helping Dexter when Stella found herself stranded at Everstone there last summer.”

  “You are such a sneak; you’re so much better of a man than you want to lead anyone to believe.”

  “I just don’t usually care what anyone thinks of me. Good or bad. Now let me get back to what I was saying.” He tweaked my nose, but then with his other hand at my waist, he glided our fingers together until they were linked behind me, against the small of my back. He pulled at me, quickly closing the distance between us and let out a long breath.

  I laughed quietly. “You were saying?”

  “I’d laid my hand down, going out for the round. It never mattered what I had in my hands, I almost always went out. I was simply there for show. And I’d almost walked away from the table until I heard your name uttered, but even then I wasn’t too concerned. Your brother mentioned you quite a bit in the company of Rowen Steele, almost like he was baiting him. And that was when I saw the gleam in Steele’s eyes as Ezra slid your photograph across the table. There was something that grabbed my attention at that point—likely God’s guidance—because I’d never felt anything like it before. At least concerning a woman.”

  Vance shook his head, laughing quietly to himself. I could just barely see his cheeks bunched up into a smile. “I couldn’t get you out of my mind, and I hadn’t even seen the darned photograph to know what you looked like. Steele had quickly won the game and greedily took it and shoved it into his vest pocket. And then I saw you. I wanted to pursue you almost from the beginning of our acquaintance, but I didn’t know how to take my desire for getting to know you better as something good—something that would end respectably. So I avoided you as best I could; while also wanting to keep a close eye on you. It was quite the juggle.”

  “I remember when we met. I felt like you recognized my name.”

  He leaned in, combing a hand through the hair from behind my ear to the back of my head. “Your name…that reminds me! Your name in print!—I forgot to tell you!”

  “What is it? Is it something about my books?”

  He laughed. “I took your books to Culver over a week ago. He asked me to simply drop them off and that he’d take a look at them when he had time. I saw him earlier today before everything concerning Cal and Rowen Steele distracted me. He was just on his way to catch the train back to Philadelphia.” Vance had both hands at my arms now, almost shaking me excitedly. “Violet, he loves them. He wants to publish them, just as I knew he would.”

  “Who? What? Lippencott? No.”

  “Yes, Lippencott.” Vance slipped an envelope out of his jacket pocket. “This is the contract you need to sign and mail back to him.”

  I grabbed it from his hand and hurriedly ripped it open. Turning around so that the lamplight was now behind me and shining on the cream-colored papers, I read the name of the publisher at the top of the page, and then my name, and my book’s names all listed together, because they wanted to buy every single one.

  In my excitement, I crumpled it with one hand, spun back around and grasped Vance around the neck, vaulting myself against him. I clutched him to me with both arms. “All because you believed in me more than I ever would have believed in myself. This is all happening because of you.”

  And then I kissed him.

  He kissed me back, of course, his arms coming around me hungrily. His lips didn’t stray from mine, but stayed steady and strong with just the perfect amount of pressure. He could have kissed me like that forever, and I would have been just fine.

  But then something in me changed, and it didn’t seem we could possibly be close enough. I wanted, more than anything, for him to follow me inside the house, to never leave me again. Was it the air around us that had become electrified, or was it me? Or him? Or everything?

  And how would we ever stop?

  Vance lifted me from my feet and caught my legs at my knees over his arm, and then opened the door, all while still kissing me.

  He carried me inside, leaving the door wide open behind us. I didn’t care, and I guess neither did he. I just wanted to stay close, to keep kissing him, and go wherever he wanted to take me. We made it to the back stairwell, where he was forced to put me down. But I didn’t let go of him, or stop kissing him. I stood a step above him, pressed against him, still longing for more.

  Until he stepped back, and in so doing, broke the connection between us. I fell back from the shock, landing with a thud upon the wooden stairs, the crumpled contract still in my hand.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, though I wasn’t quite sure what he was referring to…kissing me, inadvertently making me lose my balance…or so much more.

  I looked up at him. He was just barely visible in the shadows created by the light down the hall. He braced the doorframe with both arms rigid, looking in all honesty as if he were fighting the urge to rejoin me on the steps. And I think I would have even welcomed him if he had indeed lost the battle.

  But he didn’t. He stayed where he was, breathing heavily, staring at me. “I don’t blame you, Violet. But this is how easy it is.”

  With the help of the stair rail, I stood, understanding fully for the first time just what he’d meant all those times he’d insisted that we should proceed with the utmost caution. He’d been right. It was easy to get carried away, to forget everything, to forget what was right, what was best, and to just want what was within our grasp. He’d been right there in mine and proven it to me.

  “I understand now,” I admitted. “It is easy. I’m sorry I kissed you.” I felt incredibly foolish. How many times had he warned me that I wasn’t as strong as I thought, no matter my beliefs and convictions?

  “I’m glad you kissed me, Violet. I’m just glad that we were able to stop before getting upstairs, or down the hall, or anywhere comfortable, really.”

  I took a backwards step up the stairs. “You make me incredibly happy, Vance. That’s why I kissed you.”

  “It’s an honor that you can still say that after what we almost just let happened. You do realize what almost happened, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” I could feel the heat flush my cheeks. “You should probably go to Everthorne now.”

  “Dearest fiancée, I do believe that would be smart.” He didn’t move from the doorway though. “I think its best that I see myself out though; no need to….” He turned his attention to the knob on the door to the stairway. “Is there a lock on this thing? I don’t believe I ever noticed before; ah yes, there is.” He stood in the dim light of the hall and shot those devastatingly dark eyes my way one more time. “I’m going to lock this, and you’re going to go to bed. And if by chance I am tempted to throw pebbles at your window ever again, you might want to consider not coming down, no matter what I say to persuade you.”

  “Good night, Vance.”

  He paused in the doorway for a moment, and smiled. “Violet, you’re the sweetest, most forgiving person I’ve ever met. You should hate me right now.”

  “I could never h
ate you.” I wanted to expound, to tell him that indeed, I loved him more than I ever imagined I could. But what would his answer to such a blatant proclamation be? I hoped that he’d return the sentiment, but I couldn’t be sure.

  “I hope that’s true, Violet. With everything in me.” He then closed the door, leaving the stairwell pitch black. I heard him go on out the back door, and I sat down on the wood steps again.

  I was still shocked at how quickly I’d gone from happy elation from Vance’s news to throwing myself at him. I put my head in my hands at the memory.

  He’d been so right. Staying pure had nothing to do with good intentions. It took so much self-control and accountability and precaution. It had taken everything in Vance, I could tell, to tear himself away from me. And if he hadn’t, oh, I couldn’t fathom how I would have lived with myself afterwards. To think that if we had allowed things to get out of hand, all I had been accused of in my dorm room scandal and all I had denied in confident, self-righteous indignation—would have become entirely true!

  18

  A Riding Lesson

  “That he thought me worthy to be spoken to—

  capable of understanding and duly appreciating

  such discourse—was enough.”

  —Anne Brontë, Agnes Grey

  Friday, June 3rd, 1892

  The week after Vance told me about my book contract from Lippencott was the last week before his father’s wedding. And as usual, I rarely saw him besides when he came home for lunch. An almost ecstatic atmosphere pervaded Everwood as the wedding preparations at Trinity Church were set and the plans for the ball were completed. Bram and Evangeline—which I’d been instructed to call them from that week on—would have Everwood to themselves for the few days after the wedding before leaving for Prince Edward Island in Canada.

  After that, the house would stand empty as his children and their families stayed at Everthorne with Vance for a few days, and I stayed with Miss Abernathy and Roxy at Hilldreth Manor for the month until my own wedding. Although I didn’t like the idea of being separated from everyone, I knew it would be best that way; Vance and I not staying in the same house together.

  And it would just be the beginning, for Nathan, Natalia, Estella, and their spouses and children, would be traveling up to Rockwood on Mount Desert Island for the summer, only returning to Boston for my wedding in early July.

  Then at the end of the summer, Nathan and Amaryllis would travel back to Washington, and Dexter and Estella would return to Everston.

  The day before the wedding, as everyone packed and got their things ready for the two-day-move to Everthorne, I found Vance leading a horse I didn’t recognize out of the stable…a horse with a sidesaddle.

  I immediately went down the steps to greet him.

  I hoped, with this wonderful surprise of a morning in his company, I would be able to tell him what was on my heart lately; that I’d fallen in love with him. It was undeniable, and also fortunate, since the engagement had come first.

  How was I supposed to get my feelings—the deeper ones, past all of the emotions I felt when he kissed me—out into words? And did he feel the same way? Or was he simply drawn to me enough physically to want to marry me solely based on that?

  He’d mentioned on the way to Boston that he’d never been in love before, but there were so many times since then that he’d insinuated that he felt more for me than he’d ever allowed of himself. Everything was so difficult to figure out.

  I’d started to count the days to the wedding, until we could be together, alone, as much as we wanted and never had to be so careful with our emotions and what they led to. And surely by then we’d be able to confess how we felt openly and with our words.

  “Are you going to teach me to ride today? Whose horse is this?” I asked, almost shouting; my excitement obvious as I crossed the brick drive.

  “A little bird told me you were finished packing for your temporary move to Hilldreth today. And I thought we could use this afternoon to steal away. Being in the public’s eye, it should be safe enough.”

  “And the horse?”

  “This is Lancelot, your horse.”

  I jumped a bit in my excitement, hugging Vance unabashedly. When I let go of him, he quipped a smile and full out laughed at me. I turned back to my horse, who let me stroke his nose. “Oh, Lancelot, I’m so happy you’re mine.”

  “I’m glad you like him, I wasn’t sure about his color, being so dark and so unlike my Bristol….”

  Really, Lancelot’s coloring was the most gorgeous dark sable brown I’d ever remembered seeing on a horse. And he was perfection, even if he didn’t match Vance’s dapple gray Morgan horse.

  “He’s a stout little horse, and he just seemed to fit you.”

  I stroked Lancelot’s ears, taking in everything about him. He was such a gentle boy, it was no wonder Vance had chosen him for me. “Will I need my new riding habit, or will this dress do?” I was uncertain, as always, of what propriety demanded.

  “I don’t care what you wear,” he answered easily, barely able to hide the fire behind his eyes. “We won’t be doing much today, just an introductory lesson.” Before I could answer, he continued, “Have you mailed the book contract yet?” He pulled Lancelot’s reins to guide the horse to stand between us.

  “I haven’t signed it yet,” I admitted over the top of the sidesaddle, hoping he wouldn’t be mad.

  “Do you want me to look at it?” Vance offered hesitantly.

  “I’d like that; but whenever you have time will be fine,” I stated shyly. I wasn’t sure if he had something planned already for after my riding lesson, but I didn’t want to assume he meant to spend the rest of his day with me.

  He’d hardly seen me since the night he’d given me the contract, but I knew it was because he thought it safest to stay away. It meant so much to me that he wanted to be careful.

  It had bothered me, on occasion, that he already knew quite well what marriage was like. What had Giselle been like? What about Olivia Rosselet? Were there others besides Meredyth? I didn’t really want to know. I really just wanted to forgive him, but those unanswered questions were always in the back of my mind.

  “What do I need to do first, to begin riding?”

  “I’ll help you mount. Fortunately, Lancelot’s small.” I looked up, just in time to see the uncertainty in his voice reach his eyes. And then he offered, “Perhaps I should have had Amaryllis teach you.”

  My gaze met his. It was the first time his wall had even slightly made an appearance in a number of weeks, and I wasn’t about to let him go hiding behind it—for whatever reason. “I want to learn from you.”

  “She would be a better teacher.”

  “But I want to spend my time with you, and she’s still busy packing right now.”

  “All right then.” Vance turned me by the waist so I stood next to Lancelot’s shoulder. “I’m going to lift you up and you’re going to put your right knee around the upper pommel at the side of the saddle, and your left foot in this stirrup. I’ll help position everything once you’re in place.” Only, he didn’t lift me up, he just stared down at me for a moment. “You are beautiful, Violet. I don’t think I tell you that enough.”

  I smiled at him. “And I don’t think I’ve ever told you, Vance, that I think you’re wonderful.” And that I love you. I closed my eyes, feeling completely foolish for chickening out at the last moment.

  He laughed, and then before I was prepared, he gripped me at my waist and hoisted me into the air toward Lancelot. I landed a little sideways from how I imagined I should have been on the saddle, but I quickly corrected my balance and got my right leg into place around the upper pommel. Once I made myself as comfortable as I could, loosening my skirts from around my legs, I positioned my left thigh under the bottom pommel.

  Vance took his time in adjusting some straps on the saddle and turned his dark eyes to me, silently handed me the reins.

  “Have you ridden him for yourself yet?
” I asked.

  “I wouldn’t just throw you upon an untested horse. He’s a good rider, and I think you’ll do just fine on him. Amaryllis tried him out with the sidesaddle, as riding with one is a bit different when it comes to control.” He took a long slender stick from the groom standing nearby and handed it to me. “You’ll use this whip for control. Are you ready to learn how?”

  Holding the whip like a sword, I said, “I guess so.” But then I thought differently. “Actually, I don’t know.” I examined the extravagant leather handle of the whip he’d given me, not wanting him to realize how apprehensive I felt suddenly.

  “Like I said, this is just an introductory lesson, Violet. We likely won’t even leave the driveway today. I’ll lead you about a little and let you get used to him. We need to let him gain your trust, and you’ll need to learn to trust him at the same time.”

  “The connection is rather similar to courtship, isn’t it?”

  Vance’s eyes flew to mine. “It is, though I have a feeling you liked Lancelot a bit more upon first acquaintance than you did me.”

  “That isn’t true. I liked you more than I should have, more than was sensible. I tried to make myself not think of you when you came around. It wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to do.” Well, that was a start at least, to so much more I wanted to say. “Even before I knew how much you’d changed from the rumors I’d heard, I was entirely too intrigued by you.”

  “You could have surprised me. I’ve already told you how I struggled while getting to know you at Everston. If I’d had any indication you felt that way, it wouldn’t have been good.”

  “I’ve always been cautious concerning men. That’s probably why Ben never made a move either.”

  “Perhaps,” he answered tersely.

  “I suppose I’ve been considered somewhat unapproachable in the past.”

  “Now, I wouldn’t say that.” He put his hand on mine for a moment. “At least, not anymore. Not when it comes to me.”