by Grace Walton
“I don’t know,” Jess admitted.
The black woman nodded. “If I was you, I’d git myself to that dance and give the pirate something, other than his vow, to think about. I’d do my dead-level best to outshine every female there. Including that ole Lady Iona.”
“But the vow?”
“Chile, you let God worry about that vow. And you let Him show you what to do. He will, if you just trust Him.”
Jess nodded through her tears. She gave Tirzah an impulsive hug. Then she swept from the chamber.
Tirzah settled back into the chair. She stared into the fitful fire. “Don’t you go making a bad mouth liar out of me, Lord,” she whispered. Then she bowed her head and began to silently pray.
Avansley Mansion
“May I sign your dance card, Miss St. John?” The words came from a seedy looking older man.
Jess knew for a fact that he was an overseer from a small farm. One that was mortgaged to the hilt. But he’d been the first man to offer to partner with her all evening. It appeared, even with her youth, beauty, and wealth, the damage to her reputation was wide reaching. She didn’t like the avaricious look in this man’s eyes. But she did want to dance. So she rose from the small gilt chair she’d been occupying all evening to join a newly forming set.
The Avansley home was ablaze with lit chandeliers and costly mirrors to reflect their light. Every person, of any note, from the surrounding area had been invited to fete the new duke. The hardwood floors had been laboriously sanded and polished. The supper room was lined with groaning sideboards of rich food. A tremendous cut-glass punch bowl filled with a delectable Savannah Trifle glittered in the candlelight. The jeweled layers of the dessert were heavenly to behold. The heat from the crush of bodies made the air heavy with the aroma of perfumes, pomades, and beeswax.
Jess had been to balls before. In Virginia, she’d often been deemed the reigning belle of the parties she’d attended. Back then, she’d been a diamond of the first water. Now she was barely tolerated. In fact, several of the more haughty Savannah matrons tonight gave her the cut direct. They no longer knew her. She’d ruined herself and was not fit for polite society.
The girl hoped she’d one day get used to the offensive looks and knowing winks. She’d never become accustomed to being propositioned in full view of everyone in the ballroom. The first time it happened this evening, she’d taken it as a poor joke.
One of Dylan’s business partners had cornered her in the dark hall outside the ladies’ retiring chamber. He’d baldly inquired as to the state of her virginity, all the while assuring her he would gladly take her under his protection, whether she remained a maiden or not. She’d known immediately he wasn’t referring to keeping her safe. He wanted to keep her in some little out-of-the-way house, as his mistress. Of course, she was duly horrified. He’d laughed in her face when she’d demanded an apology.
Things had gone rapidly downhill from there. That’s how she found herself sitting all alone until this unwashed overseer came to rescue her. But she was wondering if his goal in dancing with her was purely altruistic. He’d clasped her tight to his sweaty body and now was rubbing up against her in a most alarming manner.
She looked around the crowded dance floor and realized she and her dance partner were the focus of interest. There was much snapping open of elaborate fans. There was plenty of hissed gossip behind open hands. And there was an alarming amount of carnal speculation in the eyes of many of the men watching the whole proceedings.
“Excuse me, I need to sit down. Would you be so kind as to fetch me a cup of orgeat?” she said in a firm voice as she tried to push her dance partner away.
The gap-toothed man was having none of it. He’d found his prize. He intended to keep her. “No,” he told her in a voice loud enough for all to hear.
“No?” Jess was stunned.
“No, I’d rather step out in gardens with you,” he leered down at her and guffawed like a mule. “Come on, I got something to show you out there.” He grabbed her wrist and tugged her in the direction of a set of French doors.
“No, no, I don’t want to go with you.”
She dug in her heels and frantically looked around the ballroom for her brothers. They were nowhere to be seen. And no one else seemed interested in coming to her rescue. Jess shuddered when she realized what the man intended to do to her, if he was able to drag her outside.
“I don’t want to go with you,” she said in a much louder voice. One that caught the attention of a group of dandies standing by an ornate silver spittoon stationed by the door.
One of them laughed at her dilemma and shouted out some drunken advice, “Don’t kick up such a fuss. It’s not as if you’ve never welcomed a man to your bed before.”
This nasty anecdote set his whole group of friends to hooting and laughing uproariously.
“Let. Me. Go!” Jess shrieked at the top of her voice. She kicked the overseer. He fell into a howling heap at her feet.
“Why did you attack him,” whined the foolish drunk. “He just wanted a toss in the garden. I’d think a tart like you’d make a fair spot of coin on a night like this, if you stayed out there. I know I’d have a go.”
The whole ballroom silenced. It was what they’d all been snickering behind their hands. But no one had yet had the effrontery to say it aloud.
“I agree,” drawled an obviously inebriated pouf in an old fashioned powdered wig. “It’s not as if that pirate hasn’t already tasted of your wares. Oh,” he hiccupped. “Do pardon me. He’s not a pirate anymore. He’s a duke…,” he waved a limp hand above his tall, dated hair piece. “I just can’t seem to remember his name.”
“It’s McLeod,” Finn snarled. He whipped his sword out. He used it to jab into the satin of the fat planter’s garish waistcoat. “And you owe the lady an apology.”
Jess breathed a sigh of relief. Never had she been so glad to see anyone. Even if Finn did look like an elegant murderer at the moment, she was most glad to have him there to hold the villains at bay. He was dressed exclusively in black tailored evening clothes. A discreet ruby glinted in his simply tied cravat. His midnight hair was swept back from his face throwing his handsome carved features into relief in the candlelight. The small hoop in his ear seemed at once completely out of place and entirely appropriate.
“What?” sputtered the drunk. “Why must I apologize? Everyone knows she’s been your wh…”
Finn had a hand around the man’s scrawny neck before the dandy could finish his obscenity.
“Lady St. John will hear your apology now,” the big man growled.
“Of… of course.” The planter must have regained some small semblance of sobriety. For he suddenly realized his very life was in danger. “I’m sorry…” he turned to deliver his act of contrition to Jess.
“On your knees,” Finn ordered in a low lethal voice.
“On my knees?” the man gulped.
At McLeod’s harsh nod, the man began to slowly sink to the floor. Once there, he folded his hands as if in prayer and begged Jess to forgive him.
“I’m profoundly sorry for my offense. Do, please forgive me,” he said.
Finn cocked an eyebrow towards Jess. He had his sword tip digging into the back of the man’s coat. The pirate waited for her to release the man.
“Of course, of course, please get up,” she urged frantically. For a young woman who hated to be the center of attention, this whole ball was a nightmare.
The planter scrambled up and fled out into the dark garden. Before the dancing could resume, Finn pointed his saber at one of the men who’d been a part of group by the spittoon.
“You, you’re next,” McLeod waved towards the floor with his weapon.
“But… but I didn’t say anything,” the dandy protested.
“Then kneel down and apologize for what you were thinking,” Finn said acerbically.
“No, Finn.”
Jess did her best to try and stop him. But the new Duke of Maitla
nd was obviously in a killing fury. And he would not be swayed.
“I’ll be through with this in a minute. Then I want to talk to you,” was all he said to her.
One by one, he made every popinjay who’d offered her offense, kneel and beg heartily for her forgiveness. She forgave them all as quickly as she could. When the last man scurried away, Finn turned to raise Jess’s gloved hand in his. In full view of the assembly, he kissed it.
“Will you allow me the supper dance, Milady?” he asked with a great deal of ceremony.
Jess nodded dumbfounded. She was instantly swept up into his arms and into the sensual lazy patterns of a waltz.
“I will make this right, Jess. I don’t know how. But I will,” he gritted through clenched teeth.
“There is nothing to make right.”
His steady golden eyes drilled into hers. “There is everything to right. Will you marry me?”
Jess’s eyes widened at his outlandish question. She shook her head. “That’s not what you truly want. And I’ll not have you sacrificing yourself, again. Especially not to save me from the narrow-mindedness of others.”
“It is what I want. You are what I want,” he said fiercely.
“What of your promise to God?”
Finn looked away. “God will understand.”
“But will you?” she wondered aloud. “Will you ever stop feeling guilty over that vow? You are a man who does not break his promises, Finn.”
“I’ve broken plenty of vows. Some of them to you,” he laughed harshly. “I’m an accomplished liar, Jess. I’ve had to be to survive.”
“Have you lied to me?” she asked somberly.
“No, I can’t seem to lie to you,” he admitted. “But I have broken my vow to you.”
“How?”
“I promised you I’d never hurt you.”
Jess smiled up at him. She forced them to stop in the middle of the churning dance floor. She cupped his face with her hands.
“You have never hurt me, Finn McLeod. There was no real betrothal between us. We both know that. If you think there ever was a valid promise of marriage, let me set your mind and heart at ease. I release you. Let this be the last broken promise between us. And let it be mine. I’ve caused my own pain by stupidly proposing to you in front of a crowd of witnesses and then, again, by haring about the country trying to be like a heroine from some gothic novel to impress the old nun whom I admire. I’ve been willful and stupid trying to accomplish what I thought was God’s intention, before I even consulted Him. I’ve done many foolish, prideful things. And now I’m paying the price for my actions, as we all must. But you, you’ve never, never intentionally hurt me, Finn.”
Everyone stopped their steps to gape at what the new Duke of Maitland was doing with the scandalous Jess St. John.
“Marry me, Jess” he begged hoarsely.
“Your Grace, I see you have much to learn about the social behavior accepted among the ton. You are making quite a vulgar spectacle of yourself with this little chippy. A man of your rank is, of course, allowed his indiscretions. But they should always take place privately. Set the slut up in a house, if you must. I will not badger you over it, once we’re wed.” It was said in a condescending and supercilious voice.
Iona McLeod, Dowager Duchess of Maitland slowly descended the short staircase into the packed ballroom. Her awkward, freckled, red-haired daughter followed with a pinched and worried look on her face.
“Finn?” Jess asked him in a stricken voice. Had he been lying to her all along? Was this revelation part and parcel of the ill he believed he’d caused her? He’d said himself, more than once, that he was adept at such evil. Had she truly been a witless, stupid girl once again? Had she, once more, bared her heart to him for all to see and make mock of? Ashamed, she turned to flee.
He caught her before she could dart away. “No, my love, no. She’s a viper. She ever has been. And she lies now. I swear to you, I love you. I want to marry you and make you my Duchess.”
His hands were hard where they gripped her shoulders. His face was a study in honesty and passion. “Believe me, Jess. Please, love, believe me,” he begged.
Iona laughed maliciously. “You’re a fool of you fall prey to his pretty words and handsome face, girl. He’ll use you. Just like he used me. Then, he’ll leave you to deal with the consequences of his pleasure.” She threw an arch look to the dumpy unattractive young girl behind her.
“He’s not my father,” the girl spoke up with a surprising calm and clear voice.
“Shut up, you brat,” hissed the Dowager Duchess. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I do, Mother. Father gave me a letter, before he died.” The redhead carefully withdrew a folded letter with the ducal seal from her reticule. She handed it to Finn.
“He was not a good man, Your Grace,” she explained. “But he had a change of heart when he knew he was dying. He made me promise to give you this. It’s why I agreed to travel here with Mother. I don’t know the precise contents. But I believe, in this letter, he confessed to not being my sire. It’s a widely known fact, in our village, that I keenly resemble the blacksmith.”
“Shut up, you little demon,” Iona drew her hand back to slap her daughter. “You’ll spoil it all.”
Finn caught the harridan’s hand in mid-flight. “Do not,” he warned. “I’ll not stand by and watch you take out your foul temper on this innocent girl.”
“Your daughter, you mean,” the blonde woman taunted.
“Iona, we both know there’s no way this child can be mine.”
“She is yours! If not in fact, then in name alone.”
“She is welcome to the name. She is surely owed the use of it after what she must have suffered, over the years, at your hands. And I would gladly keep her in my household and raise her as my own. But I am not her father.”
“Prove it!” the evil woman almost cackled with glee.
“I don’t have to prove anything, certainly not to you. I’m to marry, it’s true. If this lady will have me.” He turned to smile down at Jess who was still near him. “Has it escaped your notice that you live upon my sufferance now?” he asked of his sister-in-law.
“No!” Iona shrieked like a banshee. “This is not how it was supposed to be. You were to marry me. You were to make me your duchess. Not some back-country wench with no aspirations to better herself. I was going to reign over the ton like a queen.”
“Jessamine St. John could be no better. She is perfect,” Finn corrected the hag. The raving woman was hustled away from the ballroom by two burly servants. Finn spoke now only to the woman he loved, “And I would be honored and blessed if you would accept my hand, my heart, and my ducal coronet.” He knelt at her Jess’s feet like a knight of old, pledging his fealty to her.
“What about your vow?” she asked him in a trembling voice. “I don’t want you to ever regret this night’s work.”
“I see now I need to pray over that reckless promise. God will show me what to do. I know He will. And whatever that might be, I know He means for us to share it. Marry me, Jess.”
The lovely young lady nodded her assent, through joyous tears.
“Is there anyone here who can perform a marriage ceremony?” Finn shouted to the onlookers.
“What now?” asked a stunned Avansley. He’d meant to host the ball of the season. But it seemed he would be hosting an unorthodox wedding that would be talked of for years to come.
“Jess?” Finn asked.
“Now,” she agreed.
“If you are both sure that is what you want, I can and I will conduct the proceedings,” replied an elderly old gentleman in a cleric’s garb. “Though, in truth, we will all just be witnesses as you make your vows. For only the Almighty can bless your union.”
He pulled a small tattered bible from the pocket of his waistcoat. He began to read a well-worn passage,
“If a man vow a vow unto the Lord, or swear an oath to bind his soul with a bond;
he shall not break his word, he shall do according to all that proceedeth out of his mouth.”
He stopped and let the crowd absorb what he’d just said. Then the preacher continued, “That comes from the book of Numbers, chapter thirty, verse two. It is especially appropriate as this man and woman will shortly be making solemn vows to each other. Don’t you all agree?” he asked the assembly. Seeing the multitudes of smiles and nods the old man continued, “With this verse, I commend you both to the Lord. We stand, as your brothers and sisters in the Faith, with you each, as you make your holy promises to each other. You may commence.”
Finn lifted Jess’s hands. He kissed her palms, one after the other, and began speaking in a deep true voice. “Jessamine St. John, I love you with all that I am. With all that I have. And with all I ever hope to become, in the Lord. I’ll cherish and protect you all my days. And, if it be God’s will, your name will be upon my lips as I pass into eternity.”
The love for him in Jess’s eyes was deep and abiding. “Finn McLeod, I promise to love and honor you all my days. I’ll joyfully bear our lives’ hardships and troubles, but count them all blessings because I can share them with you. I pledge my life to yours, now and forever.”
Finn drew her tenderly into the shelter of his arms and sealed their vows with a deep, passionate kiss. The crowd erupted into cheers and applause.
And that is how a pirate duke married an aspiring nun, both of them wearing somber black, in a rowdy midnight ballroom. And it is also how they started their lives together and shared a promise that was never, ever to be broken.
Epilogue- Seven Months Later
“Duchess, I don’t think you should be making your bow to the new king in your condition.”
The starched and prissy maid Finn had hired for her was a trial. The woman sported tight disapproving lips and a sour expression. She instructed Jess endlessly on comportment. The haughty tutoring, of course, was not needed. The new Duchess of Maitland had been raised in a household that was the American equivalent of royalty. Her father had been wealthy and the younger brother of a duke. Her eldest brother held the title now. And her two other brothers were accorded lords in their own right.
