Always Yours

by Cheryl Holt

  She glared at him forever, but it was a visual war she could never win. He returned her glare until she began to squirm in her seat.

  “I won’t approach her ever again,” she ultimately mumbled, “and I apologize for my actions. I presumed I was right to intervene.”

  “I appreciate that, but I can handle my own affairs. I can’t have you interfering.”

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  “Good. I’m glad we cleared that up.”

  Suddenly, she looked much younger than twenty-two, and he felt like the bully Sarah often accused him of being.

  “I hardly ever see you,” she said, “and I’ve been dying to ask you a question. You’re finally here, but you’re in such a dour mood, I can’t proceed.”

  “My mood is not dour. What is it?”

  “I’m certain you’ll be opposed, simply because I’ve irritated you. I’ll try later.”

  “It’s fine, Ophelia. I’m not angry. I’m just frustrated. Ask me your question.”

  She debated, then said, “I had always thought I’d never marry. I’ve enjoyed living with Mother and being independent, but I’ve been thinking I might like to wed after all.”

  “That’s a grand idea. I’ve been wondering if you should wed too. Have you talked to Mother about it?”

  “I wouldn’t talk to her. She’d race off and pick some obnoxious oaf I couldn’t abide.”

  He chuckled. “I’m sure you’re correct, and I’m encouraged that you realize it about her. What’s brought on this change of heart? Have you met someone who tickles your fancy?”

  “Yes. I’m not positive he’s who I want, but we’ve chatted a bit, and I’m interested enough to consider it. I’d like your opinion.”

  “Is he anyone I know?”

  “Yes, you know him very well.”

  Two names flashed in his mind as men he knew well: Nathan, whom she couldn’t stand, and Raven Shawcross. Raven had plans that didn’t include shackling himself to a silly London debutante, so when she actually spoke the name aloud, he was so astonished he could have fallen out of his chair.

  “It’s Judah,” she said. “Judah Barnett.”

  “Judah…?”

  He and his sister were perched at a very important fork in their road as siblings. She’d only ever previously sought one favor from him—to travel to Africa—and he’d emphatically refused to permit it. Now, here she was, posing another monumental subject and eager to receive his blessing.

  He was devastated over what his answer would have to be. Would she ever forgive him? Probably not.

  He’d like to have a cordial relationship with her. He’d like her to wed an honorable, steady fellow and live happily ever after, but it couldn’t be Judah Barnett. It could never be Judah.

  “Oh, Ophelia, I’m sorry. I can’t be him.”

  She blanched as if he’d struck her. “Why not?”

  “It’s just…just…not possible.”

  “Why isn’t it?” The mulish gleam was back in her expression.

  “There are details about him that make him unsuitable.”

  “What are they?” she rudely retorted. When he didn’t explain, she said, “Let me tell you this, Brother: You barely know me. Why should you get to control my future?”

  “Maybe because I’m your guardian and I manage your dowry. I will select who you marry, and it can’t be him. Ever.” He sounded overly harsh, so he repeated, “I’m sorry.”

  She studied him caustically, then scoffed. “No, you’re not.”

  She was right—he wasn’t sorry—but he wouldn’t admit it.

  Judah was mostly a dependable crew member, but he had a chip on his shoulder and never thought he was valued as much as he should be. He had to be terrified over Sebastian’s recent meeting with Nathan too. Even if they never reconciled, Sebastian would eventually dig to the bottom of what had occurred in Africa.

  Judah had squandered his reputation with Sebastian, and he had to recognize that fact. He had to be worried that Sebastian was about to cut him loose. What better way to prevent it than to wed Sebastian’s sister?

  “How has this come about?” he asked her. “Did Judah approach you?”

  “No. It sort of dawned on us together. We’ve always liked each other.”

  “Really? I’m surprised you’ve spent that much time around him that he’d feel comfortable conferring about matrimony.”

  “I like him. He’s been kind to me.”

  “The notion simply popped up? Out of the blue. Judah didn’t suggest it?”

  “No! We both want it.”

  “You’re not to talk to him about it again. You can’t raise his hopes. I will never permit you to marry him, and if he raises the issue with you, please send him to talk to me instead.”

  “I should have guessed you’d act like this,” she fumed. “You’re exactly like Father. You don’t view me as a real person.”

  “That’s not fair. You requested my opinion, and I provided it to you. Don’t complain because you don’t like my response.”

  “Why are you so opposed to Judah? Give me one reason!”

  “He’s not the man you assume him to be. He’s not trustworthy. He’s not reliable. Just ask Nathan.”

  “Ask…Nathan? Are you joking? You cite him as a reason to reject Judah?”

  “Yes, it’s because of what happened in Africa, so I’m ordering you to stay away from him. If you won’t promise me, I’ll take steps myself to keep you apart.”

  She rose to her feet, her demeanor furious and condemning. “I shouldn’t have discussed this with you. It’s none of your business anyway.”

  “Your welfare is completely and totally my business. It’s why I am in charge of you, to help you make good decisions.”

  “I repeat, Sebastian: You don’t know anything about me. You have no idea what would be good for me.”

  She swept out, and he eased back in his chair, thinking how much he hated being head of the family, how he detested dealing with women’s problems, and how he could avoid them all if he started preparing for another trip to Africa.

  * * * *

  “Sebastian! How lovely to see you in town.”

  “Hello, Veronica.”

  She sidled over to him, attempting to appear willowy, as if she was gliding, and she breathed a sigh of relief that her dogs were up in her bedchamber. They could be excitable, and his mother, Gertrude, had warned her to hide them from him. Sebastian liked dogs, but he liked big, hulking, manly ones that could tend sheep or chase off wolves.

  Her little darlings didn’t fit the bill in even the slightest fashion.

  Luckily, she was looking very fetching, wearing an exquisite sapphire gown that set off the blond of her hair and the blue of her eyes. Her hair was styled in a stunning array of curls and braids her maid had spent two hours arranging.

  It was exhausting to constantly primp and preen, but they couldn’t predict when Sebastian might show up. She had to be ready for his arrival every second.

  They were in the foyer, and he’d been trying to slip out the door without being delayed, but she wasn’t about to let him escape.

  “Are you leaving so soon?” she asked. “I only just heard you were here.”

  “I’m needed at the Haven.”

  “You’re so busy. Are you sure you can’t have supper with us? We intended to eat at nine, but if you could tarry, I’m positive your mother would serve the meal earlier.”

  “Sorry, but I can’t.”

  She flashed her prettiest pout, the one she practiced in front of the mirror. It never had any effect on him though. He always treated her precisely the same way. He was polite and friendly, but not really glad to have stumbled on her.

  It was so difficult to be a female, to wait patiently for the man in the relationship to decide when to proceed. She yearned to seize him by the lapels of his coat, to shake him and demand, What are you thinking? What are your plans with regard to me?

  But of course, she had to float al
ong on his schedule, according to his whims. It was so unfair.

  Every girl in the world would like to be his bride, and during her adolescent years, she’d flaunted her prestigious spot and had reveled in the jealous adoration of her acquaintances. If the marriage didn’t occur, if they never wed, she’d die of shame.

  He was pulling away from her, as if she wouldn’t notice how eager he was to be off.

  “May I walk you out?” she asked.

  “Yes, certainly.”

  He smiled, but it wasn’t sincere. There were so many rumors about him—that he had mistresses, that he’d had potent amours with the city’s most beautiful actresses. Supposedly, it was the reason he’d evaded her marital noose. There were too many slatterns keeping him happy.

  He hadn’t offered his arm, but she took it anyway—as if he had—and they strolled out together. His horse was saddled and in the driveway, so there would be no dawdling as it was brought out.

  “When will we see you again?” she asked.

  “I’ll be in town, starting Monday, for the inquest.”

  A thrill of hope ignited in her breast. “Will you be staying with us?”

  “No. The Haven is close enough to the city that I’ll probably go home at night.”

  “You always disappoint us.”

  Because the comment sounded like a complaint, she grinned, apprising him that she’d meant it in a teasing manner. In reality, she was completely frustrated by his lack of attention, and the minute he rode off, she would march into his mother’s parlor and vent her ire. How much more vacillation could she endure?

  “Ophelia and I would like to come to the Haven for a few days. We like the men on the expedition team so much. Would you mind if we returned?”

  He stared at the house, suddenly very grouchy. “You and Ophelia can’t come. I can’t have you there now. Things are…hectic.”

  “Oh…ah…all right. Perhaps after the inquest is over.”

  “Perhaps,” he said noncommittally.

  He stepped away from her, grabbed his reins, and leapt onto his horse. He gave a jaunty salute in her direction that she figured wasn’t even aimed at her. It might have been for any errant footman loitering in the vicinity.

  He trotted away without glancing back, and she was so angry, but it was never a good idea to appear petulant. She smoothed her features and sauntered inside. She headed straight for Cousin Gertrude, determined to protest until Gertrude supplied answers that made sense.

  * * * *

  “Thank you for seeing me.”

  “I might not have, Mrs. Blake, but I was curious about your letter.”

  Nell Drummond Blake, Lady Selby, studied Temperance Maudsen, struggling to seem pleasant and affable, but it was hard. Nell had written to Mrs. Maudsen and had introduced herself as Mrs. Blake rather than Lady Selby, so as to keep Nathan out of it.

  She found it easier to talk to others if they weren’t aware of her true status.

  She was a happy person who generally liked everyone she met, but Mrs. Maudsen might be the first one she didn’t. The woman looked fussy and peevish, as if she’d never enjoyed a moment of contentment in her life.

  She was unattractive too, with a round face and unremarkable hair and eyes. She was short and very chubby, the seams on her gown let out as far as they would ever go.

  Nell was trying not to openly stare, but there wasn’t the tiniest hint that Mrs. Maudsen and Sarah Robertson could be siblings. They were different as night and day. Sarah was gorgeous, powerful, optimistic, and commanding. With her sparkling blue eyes and striking white-blond hair, she turned heads wherever she went.

  Nell was wondering if Nathan had incorrect information about Mrs. Maudsen. Maybe she was no relation to Sarah at all. Yet Mrs. Maudsen proved her wrong.

  “In your letter, you asked about my sister.”

  “Yes, Sarah Robertson? I’m friends with her at our church. I visited her at the orphanage, but it’s closed. I was so surprised, and I’m worried about her.”

  “Why worry? She’s always fine. A stiff hurricane wind couldn’t stop her.”

  “I agree. She can be quite forceful.”

  “It’s an awful trait for a female to exhibit. She’s bossy and unlikable, but what do I know?”

  They were in Mrs. Maudsen’s home, in her parlor. It was a three-story residence on a small acreage. According to Nathan, it was owned by Mrs. Maudsen’s husband, Cuthbert. Nathan had inquired about Mr. Maudsen at his club, and the reports were all bad. The man was a gambler who was deeply in debt.

  Though the house was nice enough, there was an air of genteel poverty about the place, as if the Maudsens were having financial difficulties. Mantles and tables had been emptied of clocks and other decorations. Furniture was missing—as if it might have been sold. The rugs and drapes were deteriorating, and clearly, there was no money to buy new items.

  Although Nell had been welcomed appropriately and tea had been served, she felt as if she was imposing.

  “I was amazed to discover Sarah had a sister,” Nell said. “She never mentioned you.”

  “She wouldn’t have,” Mrs. Maudsen caustically stated. “We don’t get along.”

  It was an odd tidbit to admit to a stranger, and Nell murmured, “I’m sorry to hear it.”

  “She’s very jealous of me,” Mrs. Maudsen claimed.

  “Really? In my view, Sarah is very sweet. Why would you think that?”

  “I didn’t think it, Mrs. Blake. I’m very sure about it. I was raised here in the country by my grandmother, while my father insisted Sarah tarry at the orphanage with all his urchins.”

  “You and Sarah weren’t raised together.”

  “No, and she hated that I’d been given so much, but she received so little from our parents. She resented how I’d been singled out, so it was hard for us to be cordial.”

  “What happened to her? What happened to the orphanage? Can you tell me?”

  “Mr. Maudsen sold the building, so it was shut down.”

  “Sarah didn’t own it? I assumed she did.”

  “No, my father owned it, but when he was dying, he signed it over to my husband. Sarah was vehemently opposed to the change, but Father recognized that a female couldn’t be in charge, and Mr. Maudsen is the man of the family now.”

  “Sarah provided such a valuable service to the community. Your husband sold it…why?”

  Mrs. Maudsen huffed with offense. “That’s not any of your business, is it?”

  “No, of course it isn’t,” Nell rushed to concur. “Have you any idea where Sarah is?”

  “No.”

  At voicing her curt response, Mrs. Maudsen was incredibly blasé, as if they were discussing the weather rather than her only sibling. What a peculiar woman!

  “Have you any other relatives who might have taken her in?” Nell asked. “Might you recollect any friends who’d let her stay with them?”

  “No. Mr. Maudsen and I are her sole kin, and she was too busy with her waifs to have had any friends. For all I know, she’s living on the streets.”

  Nell gasped. “Aren’t you…ah…concerned about her?”

  “Sarah believes she’s smarter than everyone else. My husband and I owned that building, and we needed the funds from the sale. Sarah refused to accept that fact, and she was horrid to us about it. When she chose to be so vulgar and ungrateful, further communication was futile.”

  “I understand.”

  Did Mrs. Maudsen realize how appalling she sounded? Well, Nell didn’t have to listen to her, and it was definitely time to depart.

  “I should be going,” Nell said. “If you hear from her, I wish you’d send me a note. You may not be worried about her, but I am.”

  “Trust me, Mrs. Blake. She’s too proud. She won’t ever contact me.”

  “We can’t be sure of that.”

  Nell reached into her reticule and pulled out a calling card that identified her as Lady Selby. She handed it over, but Mrs. Maudsen didn’t grab for i
t, so she laid it on the table between them.

  Then she stood and left. Mrs. Maudsen was a miserable shrew, but her staff was polite. A footman had her cloak and bonnet ready. She didn’t bother to don them. After sitting through Mrs. Maudsen’s vitriol, she felt as if she couldn’t breathe, and she was desperate to get outside into the fresh air.

  She flashed a wan smile at the footman and hurried out to her carriage. She’d just climbed in when the front door of the house was flung open, and Mrs. Maudsen waddled out.

  She was holding Nell’s card, and she waved it like a flag. “Lady Selby! Lady Selby!”

  Nell peered out the window. “What is it, Mrs. Maudsen?”

  “How are you acquainted with Sarah? I’m so astonished! How is it that she has such a lofty association?”

  Occasionally, it was useful to be an elevated, important individual, and she was learning—from watching Nathan—how to be snobbish and pretentious when it was required.

  “After meeting you,” Nell told her, “I have decided that I shouldn’t waste another minute in your presence.”

  Her condemning glare swept over Mrs. Maudsen, apprising her that Nell found her to be lacking in every way. She rapped on the roof, and the carriage lurched off. She didn’t glance back.

  * * * *

  “May I tell you a secret?”

  “You always should.”

  Noah grinned at Petunia. They were in the woods behind the cottage. A stream bubbled in the trees, and they were loafing on the bank, throwing pebbles in the water.

  Pet leaned nearer and murmured, “I think Mr. Sinclair is sweet on Miss Robertson.”

  Noah frowned. “Why would you think that?”

  “He visits her in the middle of the night.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I’ve seen him leaving—twice.”

  Pet had trouble sleeping in the cottage. She’d been raised at the orphanage, surrounded by other children, so it had been hectic and noisy. She didn’t like how quiet it was in the country, deeming it scary and unnatural. As to Noah, he slept like a log and dozed off the instant his head hit the pillow. He never heard a sound.

  She fretted too about the future, but Noah never did. What was the point? He presumed matters would work out for the best, and he was usually correct. He was twelve already, and in another year, he’d be an adult. If he didn’t like his circumstances then, he could change them, without asking anyone’s permission.