Emily: Army Mail Order Bride

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Emily: Army Mail Order Bride Page 65

by Mercy Levy


  Charity thanked him and sat in her seat, looking out the window at the platform.

  Her father had already left.

  I have always said I was never going to marry a man with money, for that very reason – yet here I am, traveling across the country to marry a rich man.

  Charity smiled at the ridiculousness of her own situation, then shook her head. She had to think her way out of this. Some way, somehow, she was not going to be stuck with a rich man.

  Chapter 4 – An Arranged Marriage and An Agreement

  Charity was exhausted. Though trains were far faster than traveling by stage, it was still hard to get on one train, then get off at a station, only to wait to board another. She felt as though she were getting off or switching trains at every town, though she only had to make the change three times.

  Her father had paid for her to sleep on the train so she might arrive at her destination sooner. Charity told herself he had done so in order to keep her from having to spend the night in strange hotels, but she knew he had really done it to get his money more quickly.

  The sooner she was married to this man, the sooner her father was going to get the price for her hand. Charity watched the passing landscape out the window, wondering what her husband was going to be like.

  She didn’t much care what he looked like – she already knew she wasn’t going to fall in love with him. All she cared about was whether he treated women with respect. So many of the wealthy men she had had experiences with treated her poorly, and she hated it.

  A lady is a lady, and she ought to be treated as one in spite of how much money one has.

  “Last stop, dead ahead!” the conductor shouted through the car, causing Charity to jump. Her heart started to pound in her chest. She was ready to get off the train, but the thought of meeting her husband for the first time made her heart flutter in apprehension.

  At last, the train screeched to a halt, but Charity was in no hurry to get off. She waited until the other passengers had disembarked, then she slowly rose and grabbed her luggage from the shelf above her seat.

  “Thank you, Ma’am, please, watch your step.” The conductor motioned her out to the platform, where she shielded her eyes. It was cold, but the sun was shining brightly, making it difficult for her to see any faces on the platform.

  Everyone looked like dark, ominous figures, all wanting her for their own selfish reasons. Suddenly, a small group of figures walked over to her, and Charity could see it was two older people and a man close to her age.

  “Miss Nettle? Hello. I am Mr. Hardy, and this is my wife, Beatrice.” The man looked at her with the same grave eyes her father did, and it made Charity’s blood run cold.

  “Hello, Mr. Hardy. Hello, Mrs. Hardy.” Charity held out her hand, and both shook it. The younger man looked at her critically, and Charity at once returned the gesture.

  “This here is Frank, our son. Mr. Hardy and I are going to move back East where it’s a great deal warmer, and we didn’t want him to be out here alone. We’d like to see you wed quickly, so we might be on our way.”

  Mrs. Hardy spoke with a condescending tone, causing Charity to feel as though she didn’t measure up to their expectations.

  “Of course. Father mentioned that I was to be married quickly. Do you have a church picked out already?” Charity looked up the street, wondering if this small town even had a church. She had heard the West was lawless, and assumed that meant no one cared about God.

  Mrs. Hardy laughed.

  “Church? No, Honey, we are going to have you married by the sheriff. He’s always around and won’t charge much. However, I do think you ought to change your garment.” Mrs. Hardy looked at her critically, and Charity felt her cheeks flush.

  “This is my finest, I am afraid,” she said simply, and Mrs. Hardy shook her head.

  “What a pity. I would expect more from a man with such money as your father has. We shall have to stop by the house and you can wear one of mine.” Mrs. Hardy clicked her tongue, then looped her hand through her husband’s arm, motioning for the two younger people to follow.

  Though Frank offered her his arm, Charity refused, picking up her luggage and following his parents. She didn’t know what she was going to do, but the more time she spent around this family, the more she felt the urge to run away.

  “You’ll have to excuse Mother. She just wants everything to be perfect,” Frank said coldly as they both waited in the parlor. Mr. and Mrs. Hardy had gone upstairs in search of a suitable dress for Charity, leaving her and Frank alone.

  “I wouldn’t be opposed to perfection,” Charity said absentmindedly.

  “Of course. That’s how all you rich women work,” Frank retorted, and Charity felt ruffled.

  Without thinking, she turned to Frank.

  “Look here! I don’t want to marry you, I don’t want to be out here, and I don’t like rich men! Scoundrels, that’s what you all are! I would as soon marry a dead pig as I would you. I see no difference, to be quite honest. The only reason I am here is because my father sent me, and as soon as your parents leave, I am leaving, too!” The words came so quickly, Charity felt her cheeks flush as soon as she had said them.

  She didn’t know what she was thinking, and wondered if he would tell his parents what she had said. Still, she refused to apologize.

  To her surprise, a satisfied smile spread across Frank’s face.

  “Excellent. I’ll have you know that I don’t want to marry you, and I think rich women are spoiled brats. The whole lot of them!” He spoke softly, but his tone proved he meant what he said.

  Charity felt the anger swell in her chest once more. She was far from a spoiled brat, and she couldn’t believe he had the audacity to say such things. Looking at him haughtily, her lips formed a thin smile.

  “All right then, I propose an agreement. We will go through with this wedding until your parents leave. Then, I want a formal divorce and money to go wherever I please.” She held out her hand, maintaining the smile.

  To her shock, his arrogance matched hers as he grasped her hand.

  “Agreed,” he said flatly, and they both stepped to their own sides of the room.

  Chapter 5 – Marriage to Frank Hardy

  The next morning, Charity woke when it was still dark. She sat up quickly in bed, thinking she had overslept and needed to hurry out to the kitchen to make breakfast before her father woke up. She quickly remembered where she was and groaned aloud.

  Her wedding ceremony had been short and to the point. In spite of the wealth of the family, they had wanted to keep the ceremony small, and only a few people other than Frank’s parents were there. Charity lay back on the bed, thinking about how different the ceremony had been from what she imagined her wedding day would be, and wondering if she would ever marry again.

  She closed her eyes once more, only intending to rest a few minutes longer, but before she knew it, she had fallen back asleep.

  Charity woke with a start once more when the door to her room was quickly thrown open, and three girls walked in.

  “Good morning, Ma’am! I hope you slept well.” One of the three spoke to her, and Charity held her sheets up to her neck, alarmed and wondering what they could possibly be doing in her room.

  “It’s time to get up Mrs. Hardy, breakfast is going to be in half an hour, and you want to be ready.” Another of the girls spoke, and Charity suddenly realized they were servants intending to dress her.

  One of them held out a gown, while the other pulled on her hand to get out of bed. Charity was struck with how young the girls were, and reluctantly obeyed.

  “You’ll have to excuse me, I have always taken care of myself in the morning,” Charity said as they disrobed her and put on her gown.

  One of the girls laughed and the others smiled.

  “The Hardy’s are one of just three families in the entire region that hire servants. We’re lucky to have jobs with them.” She continued to lace up the back of Charity’s dress, but Chari
ty said nothing in return.

  Her father and mother had servants once, but her father had become so abusive they left. The memory made a pang run through her heart, and Charity shook her head, trying to forget. Suddenly, one of the girls pulled the braid out of her hair and began brushing it fiercely.

  “It’s really not necessary, I can do my own hair, thank you,” Charity said, but the girl insisted.

  “It’s my job, Ma’am,” she said simply, and she continued.

  Though it felt like an eternity before the girls finished with her, Charity knew it had been only a few minutes, and she was sent downstairs.

  Mr. and Mrs. Hardy were already seated at the table, but Frank hadn’t yet arrived. Charity felt awkward as she walked to her seat and sat down. Neither of the other two spoke, so she held her tongue.

  “Excuse me for being late, Mr. Forthright was taking his time buttoning my collar.” Frank’s voice filled the room behind her, but Charity didn’t turn around. Mrs. Hardy answered her son, but again Charity kept to herself. Though the family was cordial enough to her, she couldn’t help but feel a distance between herself and them.

  There was something about having servants bringing her food she didn’t care for, and something about the way Mr. and Mrs. Hardy treated the servants left a bad taste in her mouth. She understood it was their job to tend to the needs of the family, but she was also a firm believer in kindness, and it didn’t appear either of the older Hardy’s were concerned with being kind.

  At long last, breakfast was over, and both Mr. and Mrs. Hardy moved their chairs back from the table.

  “Charity, I hope you found everything to your liking,” Mr. Hardy said suddenly, and Charity nodded.

  She wished she could tell him that it was all too much, and she would have far preferred modest accommodations, but she knew such a thing would not be well received.

  She heard a slight scoff from Frank, but once again she chose to ignore him. A broad smile spread across Mr. Hardy’s face, and he nodded.

  “Very good then. You have full reign of the house. If there is anything, anything at all you like, simply ask and it shall be yours. I am quite sure you are used to getting your way already, I don’t want to change that now.” He smiled first at her, then at his wife.

  “No doubt,” Frank muttered. He spoke quietly so his father wouldn’t hear, but Charity did.

  She felt her chest grow tight with anger, but held her tongue.

  “I am sure we are all quite used to getting things our own way. I thank you for your kindness,” Charity said, glancing at Frank as she spoke. She turned her attention back to her tea, and could feel Frank’s eyes on her briefly.

  Mr. Hardy laughed and slapped his knee.

  “That we are! That we are! I like this one. At any rate, your mother and I have some business to attend to in town, I trust you can entertain yourself?” Mr. Hardy addressed his son first, then turned to Charity, who nodded.

  “Excellent. We shall see you at dinner.” Mr. Hardy held out his arm, and Mrs. Hardy rose, taking it. The two of them disappeared up the hall, their feet echoing on the hard floors. Charity sat in silence for a moment, trying to decide if she should address her husband.

  To her annoyance, he rose, folding his paper neatly on his seat.

  “Good day, Mrs. Hardy,” he spat, then turned on his heel, walking swiftly out the door without a word of explanation.

  Charity felt her chest tighten. There was something so infuriating about her new husband, yet she was struck by how handsome he was.

  He was a terrible mix of what she hated in a man, but he was opposite of her father, which she loved. Feeling her chest heave in her tight dress, she also rose. Suddenly, the servants came into the room, clearing the table and asking if she needed anything.

  “No, thank you - that will do,” Charity said as she quickly walked back to her room, but her mind was in a whirl.

  If you could bring me a new husband, that would be great, she thought.

  Chapter 6 – The Life of a Mistress

  It took time for Charity to get used to the servants caring for her every need. Though she was reluctant to ask for anything, they often brought her things before she even opened her mouth.

  Charity knew it was their job to anticipate, and they had been well trained by Mrs. Hardy to do so, but part of her still felt as though she were taking advantage of their kindness. Though her father would have been able to afford a servant for their house back home, his drinking prevented anyone from staying long, so Charity was used to taking care of things herself.

  “You really ought to relax. This house is your home now, and these servants are yours,” Frank said at breakfast one morning.

  Charity tried to act naturally around Frank and his parents, but there was something about the group that made her nervous, and put her on edge.

  She smiled and took a sip of her tea, then proceeded to ask Mrs. Hardy about her day.

  “Well, I was going to keep it a surprise, but I think I’ll share the news so you have something to look forward to. We are throwing a ball in your honor.” Mrs. Hardy beamed, and Mr. Hardy patted Charity’s hand.

  Charity felt her face pale, and with a slight glance over to her husband, could see that he didn’t approve of the situation, but was glad to see her feeling uncomfortable.

  Determined to take the news with elegance and grace, she smiled and thanked Mr. and Mrs. Hardy, but added that the gesture was completely unnecessary.

  “On the contrary, I find it to be entirely necessary. Custom dictates that the town know who you are. After all, when the Mrs. and I head back East, you’re going to be the mistress of this mansion, and they need to see you.”

  Frank continued to read the paper and ignore the situation, though Charity knew he was listening.

  “Well then, when is it to take place?” she asked with a forced smile.

  “We were thinking Friday. That gives us a couple days to get everything planned. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about anything, I’ll tend to the details.” Mrs. Hardy rose with a clipped smile, and excused herself.

  It wasn’t long before Mr. Hardy also left, leaving Charity alone with Frank. This time, however, Charity refused to be the one abandoned at the table, and she also rose and excused herself.

  “Going to pick out what to wear?” Frank’s voice caused her to stop in the middle of the hall.

  Though a sharp retort rose in her mind, Charity smiled as she turned.

  “No, not at all. I think I need some air.” She then tossed her curls over her shoulder and gracefully walked out the door, thanking the butler for opening it for her on her way by.

  Charity paused on the porch, putting her hand over her heart and watching the sun slowly rising in the East. She had often enjoyed this time in the morning, as it had been the time she spent walking to the little shop to meet her father. She missed those walks, though she couldn’t say the same about her father.

  Why don’t you take one now? A passing thought asked, and on a sudden impulse, Charity decided to.

  She knew that the Hardy’s were disappointed in her, as she was not the glamourous spoiled little rich girl that they had expected. She could only figure that they were putting her on display for their son’s sake. They were well-known members of society out here and they needed for people to think the same of their son and his wife. She hugged herself and shook her head at the absurdity of it all.

  She walked down the path and through the gate, holding her skirt above the melted puddles that had formed in the road. She looked behind her, but no one seemed to mind or even notice she had gone, so she continued.

  Though Charity had always told herself she’d never marry rich, she did have to admit that she enjoyed walking along this private path. There was nothing but the sound of birds singing in the trees and the wind gently rustling through the blades of grass rising above the melting snow.

  Suddenly, a loud shriek filled the air, causing Charity to also cry out in sur
prise. Looking around, she tried to find where the distressed call was coming from.

  Then, she saw it.

  A rabbit had gotten wrapped in some loose wire along the bottom of the fence, and now helplessly struggled to free itself. The poor creature was muddy and thrashing about, only entangling itself further in its trap.

  “Oh you poor thing!” Charity cried as she ran over to the animal. She walked around, trying to find a way to get close to it without getting scratched by its thrashing legs. Speaking softly, Charity finally managed to grab it, holding the animal down as she unwrapped the wire.

  Though the animal continued to shriek, she spoke softly to it, trying her best to keep it calm. At last, she managed to pull the last of the wire free, and the rabbit ran off into the field, disappearing out of sight in the tall grass and melting drifts.

  Charity smiled to herself, then suddenly realized in dismay what she had done.

  Looking down at her dress, she gasped. It had torn in several places along the skirt, and the front was riddled with mud stains. Her hands were filthy, and she had several scratches from where she had gotten too close to the rabbit’s legs.

  Shaking her head, she turned back to the house, but stopped short at the sight of Frank standing in the path, watching her.

  Chapter 7 – Second Thoughts

  Charity said nothing as she quickly walked past Frank, heading back toward the house to get cleaned up and changed. Charity didn’t know why, but she felt embarrassed that he had seen her helping that creature, and she didn’t want him to say anything about it.

  Once inside, she turned to see if he had followed her, but he had not. Instead, he had walked over to the place where the rabbit had gotten caught, and was now twisting the wire tightly against the fence, securing it to prevent such an accident from happening again.

  Charity felt her heart soften at the gesture. It was just a rabbit, after all, but he was out there making sure the fence was secure. He didn’t ask a servant to do it. He didn’t leave it undone. Instead, he waded through the soft mud himself to fix the fence.

 

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