Reformed by the Scotsman

by Katie Douglas

  He wanted to marry her.

  It had been instilled in her from a young age that she was eventually going to be married, but as far as she knew, all marriage meant was that someone else would be paying for everything, instead of her father, and she would be answerable to someone different, too. In her fantasies about her future life, she had always imagined that she would put off marrying anyone for as long as possible, maybe even waiting until she was thirty.

  But one didn’t fall in love without getting married. It wasn’t proper. Was this love? How did anyone ever know? Was this just a crush? There were so many uncertainties.

  Getting married to someone strict and unyielding would mean hanging up her party shoes forever. She wanted to flatly turn him down and write to her father demanding that he bring her back to Hathersedge at once, just because of Edward’s impudence toward her. How dare he ask her father’s permission to marry her before she’d even agreed? This was exactly the sort of staid and outdated nonsense that made her hate society and her part in it.

  She didn’t want to be the well-coiffed and simpering wife on the arm of a husband. She didn’t want her life to be over yet. As she was absorbed into his house and dragged into acquiescing to his wishes, she feared that she wouldn’t be herself anymore. More than anything, she didn’t want to stop existing the moment the wedding bells ceased. She would become Mrs. Edward Wolstanton. What would happen to her then? Would she have any say in her life thereafter, or would he continue to decide everything for her, possibly in collusion with her father, for the rest of her days? She didn’t want to simply be known as Edward’s wife, until the day they had children, when she would also be known as such-and-such’s mother.

  The disjointed reality between what she’d been taught to expect from life, and how her life was unfolding, was too different. She felt like she’d been fighting this unspoken war her whole life; fighting against becoming another invisible wife. And she’d been fighting so hard that it had crept up on her while she wasn’t looking.

  If Max were still here, he wouldn’t let this happen. But Max and Poppy were no more; two innocent children who were casualties of the Great War. The irony of wishing for her brother, so she could let him defend her right to speak for herself, wasn’t lost on her. She began to cry out of frustration. Horrified by her tears, she quickly brushed them away.

  One man should never have the power to make a grown woman cry. She pulled herself together and splashed water over her face in the washbasin, and she decided that it was time to show him once and for all that she wasn’t the sort of girl he wanted to marry.

  * * *

  Slipping out of the house had been an easy task this time, because Edward had stopped fearing she might try to escape, and the front door was unlocked. Adeline simply opened it, stepped outside, then gently closed it to make as little noise as possible. She hurried out of the circular street, just in case Edward happened to be looking out of a window at that moment. Once she was around the corner, she felt a rush of excitement. Adeline Hawthorne was free once more.

  Adeline skipped and hopped a little, then, afraid someone might enquire as to whether she was inebriated, she tried to act more naturally, as though she had every right to be walking down the street at this moment. As soon as she saw a hansom cab, she flagged it down and got inside.

  “Cramond village, please,” she told the driver. He pulled on the reins and got the horses to move at a steady pace. At the other end, she gave him some money then went to the little harbor. A row of dinghies bobbed up and down on the water, and a group of seagulls circled the colorful sails.

  A man with a pipe stood near a rowboat.

  “Pardon me, might I hire one of your boats?” Adeline asked.

  He took one look at her and guffawed loudly. “You? You couldn’t row a boat!” he said, appearing to take great mirth in the idea that Adeline might go on the seas.

  “My husband shall be along shortly. He will expect the boat to be ready when he does,” Adeline lied.

  “Who’s your husband?” the man asked doubtfully.

  “Edward Wolstanton.”

  Before Adeline’s eyes, the cogs seemed to whir in the man’s mind. “All right, you can have that one.” He pointed to a rowboat. Adeline paid him the appropriate rental fee and he pocketed it. “I’ll untether it once your fellow appears.”

  “Thank you,” Adeline said. “Might I be a further bother? I don’t have a sou’-wester, you see, and I’m dreadfully prone to catching cold.”

  “Aye, nae bother; I’ll fetch ye one from my cottage. It’ll cost ye extra, mind.”

  “That would be fine,” Adeline said, giving the man another coin. Once his back was turned, she went straight to the rowboat and untethered it, then began rowing as hard as she could, determined not to be stopped in her quest to get to the island. She giggled at the sight of the angry old boat man, as he stood on the dry land and impotently shook his fist at her. She might have had more sympathy for him, but she’d paid him fair and square, so he had no real reason to be cross with her.

  As she pulled on the oars, she realized how difficult rowing a boat was. The main problem was that she was facing where she’d been, not where she was going, and directing the boat proved complicated. Soon, she had gone far off course. Tired and breathless, she wanted to just give up. When she stopped rowing, however, the boat started to bounce around alarmingly on the waves, and Adeline helplessly watched the land get further away as she tried to control the boat.

  To make matters worse, a cold east wind decided to blow. It seemed to push the boat out toward the open sea, and Adeline became very afraid as the Forth got wider and the boat got swept away. Her arms were aching and her eyes were watering from the wind as she struggled to try to control the boat when she realized the bigger problem. It had looked, from where she’d been, like the tide was low and coming in, but now she realized it was still going out, and she was being taken with it, aided by the wind.

  As another island came up ahead, she frantically tried to steer the boat there. Her arms burned as she made herself keep going, keep pulling the oars through the water, and occasionally a wave would rise up and splash over the side of the boat, soaking her and making it harder to move through her restrictive dress.

  Why hadn’t she listened to Edward? He had told her that this had to be done at the right time, while the tide was coming in. She thought that, since more of the sandy beach had been showing, the tide must be on the rise, but now she knew that wasn’t true.

  As her little boat came level with Leith’s waterfront, which was about a mile to her left, with open sea behind her and Cramond in front (for she was still traveling backwards), she began to cry. She knew that she was going to be swept out to sea, and probably die of exposure. She knew there was nobody coming to help her, because nobody, aside from one irate rowboat rental man, knew she was on the water. This was where her misadventures had gotten her. Cause of death: Lost at sea at twenty-two.

  Adeline felt cheated, although she was fully aware that she had cheated herself. She wanted to take back her most recent actions and return to Moray Place and never spend a moment away from Edward. If her entire life revolved around him, it would be time well spent. She was so far past the point of being able to fix this, though.

  For the first time since the war, her heart awakened, and finally told her what it wanted. Tears poured down her face as years of heartache demanded attention, but beneath it all, she felt the warm glow of love. She loved him. It was so clear now. All she wanted was one more minute with Edward.

  She contemplated getting out of the boat so she could try to swim ashore, but she was afraid there might be sharks. Looking around, she had never been so lost and alone.

  Chapter Seven

  Guy handed Edward a telegram. He glared at the paper for two seconds then turned to his valet, trying very hard to control his voice.

  “Fetch me the garage key in double time, then send a telegraph to Queensferry. Tell their life
boat station to mount a rescue for a rowboat launched from Cramond. Blasted girl’s gone off in one on her own; you and I both know how that’s going to end,” Edward said. “Take the front door, it’s faster.”

  “Very good, sir.” Guy nodded and swiftly retrieved the key, which Edward snatched from him and hurried to the car. He barely had the wooden garage doors wedged open when he heard the main door slam, as Guy heeded his instructions. Edward impatiently cranked the engine until it chugged to life, then he drove off, not stopping to close the garage behind him.

  Some strong feeling made him take the road through Leith, rather than the Queensferry road, and he wasn’t far along when he glanced out of the window and stopped abruptly. A tiny speck bobbed on the water. Perhaps on a less clear day he might not have seen it at all. He leapt out of the car and ran to the pier. Whether or not it was Adeline, the boat was clearly adrift. Nearby, a fine, beautifully lacquered and exquisitely modern motorboat was being readied for launch.

  “Pardon me, is this boat seaworthy?” he asked.

  “Could be, sir, could be, aye.” The man who replied wore spectacles and sported a beard, putting Edward in mind of a naval doctor.

  “There’s a rowboat adrift over there, and I think the girl I intend to marry is inside it. Would you mind awfully if I took your boat out?”

  “Do you know how to handle a motorized boat, sir? Only, they’re a little different to anything else on the water and there’s very few people who have ever skippered one. You wouldn’t want to be rescued whilst you were attempting to mount a rescue, sir.”

  “Quite right, quite right. Would you drive the boat, then? I can reimburse you handsomely for the interruption to your day.”

  “Think nothing of it. I’m Dr. Daniel Thorne.” They climbed aboard and Daniel started the boat’s engine.

  “Edward Wolstanton. Can’t think of a better sort of chap to have along on a rescue journey.” Edward untied the two ropes that held the boat to the jetty.

  “I’m a botanist.”

  “My good man, I don’t mind if you’re a doctor in Transcendental Philosophy as long as this vessel can rescue the girl in the rowboat.”

  They moved away from Leith at what seemed like a breakneck speed, and reached Adeline in no time. Edward pulled alongside the boat and treasured her look of relief and adoration when she saw him.

  “Climb aboard the boat,” Edward said.

  Adeline tried to stand up, but it set the boat rocking and she screamed then sat back down again.

  “I can’t! I’ll capsize!” she wailed.

  Edward sighed. Why she had ever thought she was able to row anywhere on her own, he had no idea. He reached out and held her boat steady, so she could get onto the speedboat, then Dr. Thorne returned them to land.

  “Thanks awfully, old chap. If you ever need any assistance in any matters at all, I’m at 11 Moray Place,” Edward said, handing the man a five-pound note.

  Dr. Thorne refused the money. “Think not a thing of it; I was glad to be of assistance. It’s nice to know that my wee boat has its uses.”

  Edward didn’t release his hold on Adeline, as he went to the nearest post office and sent a telegram to the lifeboat station to inform them that the girl had been rescued. He would ask Guy to reimburse the fisherman for the lost boat later. After that was done, he marched her back to the car and opened the passenger door for her.

  “You are in serious trouble, young lady,” he informed her.

  “I know. And for what it’s worth, I’m frightfully sorry. And I’m rather glad to see you, too.”

  He closed the door and got behind the wheel, then put the car into gear and drove back to the house. Now she was in the car, he breathed normally again.

  * * *

  Adeline knew she was in very deep trouble because she was sent straight to the drawing room, where she stood in the corner for a long time before Edward came to see her. Before he arrived, she had a lot of time to think about what she had done.

  Her plan had succeeded, she reflected bitterly. After this, he would most certainly know she wasn’t the sort of girl he wanted to marry. Would anyone trust a girl like her to have their children? It seemed so unlikely. Her heart only wanted him, and no other man would suffice.

  She had brushed against her perfect future with her fingertips, and now it was beyond her grasp once more. Could she return to her past life, the parties and defiance, the noise and liquor she consumed in vast quantities to drown out the fundamental emptiness? Having glimpsed a reality where she might have been happy, she didn’t know if she could bear to watch it being taken from her. And she only had herself to blame, this time. Her newly awakened heart ached with this fresh sorrow.

  When he opened the door, she was very aware that he was in the room, and his masculine scent made her want to beg him to forgive her and marry her and do all sorts of naughty things with her. She knew she had to face her consequences with some semblance of dignity and a stiff upper lip, so she forced her feelings aside.

  He didn’t call her to him immediately, and while she waited in the corner, Adeline wondered if he had decided what to do with her yet. She resisted the urge to turn around.

  “Stand before my desk, Adeline.” His clipped tones broke the silence and she turned to face him. As soon as she saw him, all her resolve crumbled and she began to cry despite her best efforts to remain stoic. She didn’t want to know what would happen next.

  “Kindly desist with the vapors and do as you are told.”

  Fighting an all-consuming reluctance that held her muscles rigid, she very slowly walked to his desk. Was this the last time she would see the green leather-topped desk? Now that he knew just how resistant she was to any authority, he would send her away in disgrace. She couldn’t look him in the eye, it was too hard. A little thought in the back of her mind demanded to know why she cared so much.

  “I am very disappointed in your behavior.” He paused, and Adeline closed her eyes.

  A loud banging sound made her jump, and her eyes flew open. His hand was flat on the desk, him having just slammed it down on the shiny surface.

  “You will look at me when I am speaking to you.”

  Feeling like she was gazing at some close relative of Medusa, she met his eyes with great difficulty.

  “Not content with your behavior from this morning, or the punishment you received for that, you left the house once more, without informing anyone of your intended destination, and you went to Cramond unaccompanied. Once there, you used deception to acquire a boat, then you attempted to row it on open water, single-handedly. Am I correct thus far?”

  “Yes,” Adeline nodded.

  “Furthermore, you did not check the tide times, or you would have known that the tide was still going out. Did I or did I not previously warn you about the dangers of going in the Firth of Forth when the tide is going out, and that you would easily be swept out to sea on the current?”

  “You did.”

  “Then why in blazes did you do it? You were bally nearly killed!”

  Adeline shook her head. She didn’t want to tell him what she’d been trying to do. While he didn’t know, there was still a chance, however small, that he might possibly still want to marry her.

  “You will speak when you are spoken to. Answer the question!”

  “I will not.” Her only recourse was for him to never find out why she did it.

  “You must.”

  “I shan’t! It’s too awful!”

  “You are in a mountain of trouble, young lady. Tell me why you did it.”

  She saw in his eyes that he wasn’t going to let this go. Anyway, she loved him. And, she realized grudgingly, that meant that she had to be completely honest with him, otherwise they were beginning their relationship on a sandy foundation of disrespect and lies. She took a breath then spoke. “I did it so you would know that I’m not suitable.”

  “Not suitable for what?”

  “Marriage. But, when I thought I was going to b
e lost at sea, I realized that I wanted to stay with you forever.” Perhaps her honesty could redeem her somehow, but it was the most distant spark in a world of empty loss, and she didn’t hold out much hope for it.

  Edward regarded her for a long moment, and she was able to believe that they might still resolve this with a very severe punishment.

  “No. You are too flighty, too irresponsible, too selfish, too quick to act on things that shouldn’t be acted on. You were right the first time. I see it now. You are unsuitable for marriage. Furthermore, I don’t think I can reform you. Change has to come from inside yourself, and you have no interest in doing so. Every time you start behaving, you go and do something even more ridiculous than before. I will send a telegram to your father. You will not spend another night in my house. Guy will collect your belongings and take you to the station.”

  “Please don’t do this,” Adeline begged, and the tears came now.

  “Don’t embarrass yourself further by this pitiful show of emotion,” he said coldly, then rose and left her standing in the drawing room, unable to stop crying.

  * * *

  The train ride home was unbearable. Adeline had been handled, there was no other word for it, by Guy, all the way from Moray Place to Waverley station, where he had passed off her luggage to a porter and chivvied her into the first class carriage, then closed the door. It was one of the hateful trains whose door could only be opened from the outside, and Adeline pulled the window down in an attempt to reach the handle but her arms weren’t long enough. She was left, blubbing her heart out, alone in a compartment. The train whistled, then it slowly began to pull away from the station. Every mile further from Edinburgh made her heart ache more.

  When the train drew into King’s Cross, it was dark. Somehow, the air was warmer in London than it had in Edinburgh, as she hurried across the concourse to St. Pancras, to get the next train to Hathersedge. There was less of a chilly edge to it, or perhaps it was warmth emanating from the buildings, which seemed closer together somehow.