DEDICATION
There are four people in particular to whom I want to dedicate this book:
LINDA REASONOVER, who nagged, worried, paced the floor, encouraged, and continually bolstered my sagging ego.
My husband, HOWARD, who was just as supportive as ever and who worked so hard with me on the book. Honey, I couldn't have done it without you!
My father, JAMES G. EGAN, who spent so many hours attempting to clarify my confusing sentence structure, dangling clauses in particular!
And finally the last person, but probably the most important one of all, my dear mother, HELEN W. EGAN, from whom I inherited my great love of reading.
PROLOGUE
THE TALE BEGINS..
111 news is wing'd with fate, and flies apace.
— John Dryden, "Threnodia Augustalis"
"Are you going to say something to her today?" Melissa Selby asked her husband of less than a year.
Lord Selby, his blue eyes staring indifferently out at the frosty winter landscape so typical of England in February, answered in a bored tone, "My dear Melissa, as the entire reason we left London and traveled in the dead of winter to Maidstone was to speak with my daughter, I hardly think I shall delay my conversation with her for very long." He looked across the long, impersonally elegant room in which they sat sipping afternoon tea and smiled cynically. "Believe me, my dear, I want this settled just as much as you do."
Satisfied with his answer, Melissa stirred her tea in its fine china cup and asked idly, "Do you think she'll prove troublesome?"
Lord Selby chuckled sardonically at that and remarked, "Not if she is wise. Elizabeth has always been a very biddable girl, and when I explain the unpleasant
alternatives to her, rm quite positive she will look upon your choice with more than a little favor. He will offer for her?"
Melissa looked thoughtful. "He should. After all, you will make a generous settlement on her... and he does have rather pressing gambling debts, I understand."
"Won't his father cover those? I thought you said that he was from a wealthy family?"
"Well, yes, but apparently this trip to England was to make him stand on his own feet, something he hasn't done very well. I think he will be more than happy to marry Elizabeth and take her to America if you hint at the size of the fortune that will become hers when she marries." Her voice took off an uncertain note, as it always did when she mentioned his long-dead first wife. "It is a shame that your daughter is the very picture of her mother, although I suppose Elizabeth could be considered appealing in an insipid sort of way."
Lord Selby sent his new wife a derisive look, conscious of how much she resented Elizabeth and her dead mother. "Yes, she does resemble Anne at the same age, but you have nothing to fear—my infatuation with Anne died within two months of our marriage." His voice reflective, he murmured slowly, "I should have seduced the chit—she was only a squire's daughter—instead of being so young and foolish as to marry her! How very stupid of me!"
Melissa nodded her head in complete agreement with that statement and said briskly, "Well, then, it is all settled! Shall I send a note to him today?"
"Hmmm, why not? The sooner they meet, the sooner we shall know if he is attracted enough to make an offer for her." A frown creasing his forehead. Lord Selby added, "It may not come about, you know—he and Charles Longstreet are reported to be lovers, and if Mr. Ridgeway's taste runs in that direction, he may not want a wife at all."
An expression of distaste crossed Melissa's sallow features. "How disgusting! But I think we have nothing to fear. I have heard several times that another reason for Mr. Ridgeway's trip here to England is to find a wife. And I would think that a young, malleable crea-
ture like Elizabeth will be exactly what he would like. She won't make demands upon him, and he can continue to live his life just as he pleases." Scornfully she ended, "It'll be years before the silly chit realizes that her husband has no use for her in the marriage bed... not that it should make any difference to her one way or another."
When the stiffly formal servant informed the "silly chit" that her father wanted her in the library, Elizabeth made her way to that room with an odd sense of foreboding. Not quite seventeen, as blond and pretty as she was kind, Elizabeth always dreaded her father's visits, and she had almost been thankful for the years she had spent away from his country estate in a very strict boarding school for young ladies. At least there she was spared his caustic remarks and sarcastic sallies. It had gotten worse since his marriage the previous year to Melissa. Their infrequent visits filled her with dread—her father was coldly indifferent and Melissa made no attempt to hide her dislike of his only child.
Entering the library, she was relieved to find only her father present—it was so much more difficult when he and Melissa took turns baiting her. Determined not to let him intimidate her more than he usually did, Elizabeth lifted her small, rounded chin and said politely, "Grood afternoon. Father. Did you have a pleasant trip from London?"
Lord Selby looked her up and down and decided that she really did resemble Anne at the same age... perhaps a bit prettier, he conceded reluctantly, eyeing the full, soft mouth and the large violet eyes. He said dryly, "You are aware that it is winter? That the roads are either muddy bogs or slick with ice, and that even the best coaches are bound to be freezing despite warmed bricks and such?"
Flushing as much from his tone as from the content of the words, Elizabeth nodded.
Seeing her flush and the small nod, he finished bit-ingly, "Then you also realize what a stupid question that was!"
Elizabeth remained silent. Nothing she did found any approval with him.
An expression of boredom settling over his features, Lord Selby said flatly, "Sit down, Elizabeth. I have something of importance to tell you.*'
Her mouth suddenly dry and her heart beginning to beat a little faster, she did as she was told, taking a seat in one of the chairs near his desk.
Lord Selby stood behind the desk, his clothing a symphony of blue and gray, from the expertly tailored blue frock coat to the gray moleskin trousers that showed off his manly figure. His eyes on her face, he stated bluntly, ''Melissa and I have decided that it is time to take care of your future. She has chosen a nice young man who she thinks will suit you admirably. He will probably be arriving to look yot! over in a few days."
Her face white, Elizabeth stared back at him and couldn't control the instinctive protest that rose to her lips. "But—but...I am not even seventeen yet! I-I-I had hoped that I would be allowed one season in which to—"
"Find a husband?" her father inquired sarcastically.
Elizabeth's eyes flashed at that, and rashly she replied, "Perhaps not! I do not know if I want to wed. At least not right away. My entire life is in front of me, why should I be rushed into marriage this way?"
Almost gently, although his eyes were hard, Lord Selby said, "Let me explain a few things to you, my child. You are not an u/iintelligent girl, despite some of your obviously stupid comments, and I think you can understand what I have to say."
Elizabeth glanced away and bit her lip to keep from saying something she knew he would cause her to regret. Without even being aware of it, the fingers of one hand tightly balled up the material of her fine lavender wool gown.
Indifferent to her reaction. Lord Selby asked coolly, "Now then, if I may have your attention?" And when Elizabeth's gaze was fixed painfully on his face, he continued, "Quite frankly, Elizabeth, you are a reminder of a marriage I should never have made. Every time I look at you I see Anne, and to tell you the truth, I find it a bore. Even more so now that you are no longer in school and will be continually underfoot w
henever Mel-
issa and I are in residence." His face taking on a sardonic cast, he continued, ''Melissa does not like you, as you know. She finds your presence dreadfully inconvenient. And now that there is the possibility that she may be breeding, it has become imperative that we tidy up all the reminders of my first disastrous marriage. You do understand?"
Elizabeth understood very well. Melissa had never made any attempt to hide her dislike, and now that she was possibly carrying Lord Selby's child, she would be even more jealous and spiteful. Certainly she would not care for any comparisons being made between her child and Anne's, nor would she want any shadows fi:'om the past to interfere with her marriage!
Woodenly; hiding the hurt and dismay that she felt, Elizabeth answered, '1 see."
Lord Selby smiled as if she had made a clever observation. "I rather thought you would! Now then, the young man we have in mind is from America. He comes from a good family and is considered to be handsome." His voice suddenly very derisive, he added, "I can almost guarantee that he will not abuse you physically, nor make too many demands upon your body."
Elizabeth blushed hotly and wished the floor would swallow her up at such plain speaking. She was a well-' bred young woman, but she still had some inkling of what her father was referring to, and she found it intensely embarrassing, as would any gently reared young lady of 1836.
Forcing herself to act unflustered, she said in a low tone, "But suppose we don't suit? Suppose I-I-I don't like him?"
"But you shall, my dear, especially when I point out the alternatives." His voice hard, he continued, "We have this time chosen a nice young man. Refuse him, and the next man we choose might not be so pleasant. Would you like being married to the Duke of Lands-down?"
As the Duke of Landsdown was notorious for his bestiality as well as his ugly, aged body, it was no wonder that Elizabeth shrank against her chair and blanched.
Lord Selby noted her unconscious reaction indifferently and went on smoothly, ''1 see that my point is taken. You will like Nathan Ridgeway! I intend to do the proper thing and settle a sizeable fortune on you, so do not fear that I am turning you penniless from my door... at least not yet. But refuse Mr. Ridgeway, and whatever paternal interest I have in you may vanish."
Staring at Elizabeth's rigid form and the white, stony face, he stated bluntly, "We do not want you here. I have given you all the creature comforts since your birth,, but now I want you out of my life. You will have a fortune and a kind husband, and if you are wise, you will take that and be content. The alternatives are not very pleasant. Even if I continued to let you live on my bounty, it is highly improbable that you would be happy with the life you would have to lead, for you would always be an outsider to the family Melissa and I intend to have. Your presence would simply be suffered, and if your intrusion into our lives grew too annoying for Melissa and myself, Fm quite positive that another, though less suitable marriage could be arranged—one you might not like as well as marriage to Mr. Ridgeway. And if you have some insane idea of making your way alone in the world, think hard, Elizabeth, of what the future would hold for you." Brutally he finished, "Marry this young man and take yourself out of our lives."
Elizabeth glanced up at him, unable to hide the rebellion she suddenly felt, but years of rigid training made it impossible for her to defy him.
Lord Selby was aware of her turmoil, but confident of her acquiescence. He almost purred, "But of course, the decision is all yours, my child."
PART ONE
THE CHILD BRIDE
February 1836
We do not what we ought What we ought not, we do
And lean upon the thought That chance will bring us through
Matthew Arnold, ''Empedocles on Etna"
CHAPTER ONE
The wedding was over. Upstairs in the large, rather gloomy room she had known all her life, the very new Mrs. Nathan Ridgeway, nee Elizabeth Selby, gazed in apprehensive wonder at the wide, intricate gold band around her slim finger. She was married! Married to a man she barely knew! A man who would in a fright-eningly short time take her from England and everything she had ever known.
America was such a long way from Maidstone, England, she thought with a sudden shiver. A long way from the gentle rolling valleys and woodlands of Kent. But that was what she wanted, wasn't it? To make a new life for herself—a life full of warmth and love? To be, at last, loved and cared for? To be more than an unwelcome reminder of a match her father had decided was unworthy of his proud title and great wealth.
Her mouth vulnerable, a shadow in the lovely violet eyes, Elizabeth stared at herself in the cheval glass, wishing as she had so often in the past that her mother had lived, that Anne had not died giving birth to her. There were so many questions she needed answered, so many things she needed to know about being a wife... and there was no one to whom she could turn. Certainly not her father nor Melissa! She took a deep breath. No, she certainly couldn't ask Melissa, well aware Melissa considered Lord Selby's first marriage a dreadful misalliance.
But her marriage would be different, Elizabeth thought with a spurt of vehemence, her small hands closing into tight little fists. Nathan loved her! And, well, she would make herself love him. Already she respected him, and, given time, she was sure the mys-
terious exquisite emotions she had read about in the few novels that came her way would overtake her and sweep her into a wonderful world of passion and tenderness. She and Nathan would find love together. They would love each other forever!
Her thoughts gave her little peace, and with a brave attempt to stifle the fears and doubts that were again surfacing, she concentrated grimly on the simple task of undoing the several tiny pearl buttons on the slim-fitting cuff of her wedding dress. It was a gorgeous gown of heavy, milk-white satin, and, in a gauzy veil studded with hundreds of seed pearls, her silvery curls barely gleaming through its folds, she had looked like an ethereal creature from another world as she had walked slowly down the aisle of the family chapel not more than an hour ago.
Guiltily aware that she was deliberately wasting time and putting off the moment when she would have to join the guests downstairs, she worked faster at the buttons. She should have rung for a servant, but, knowing how rushed they all were with the elaborate preparations, she hadn't wanted to take any of them away from their tasks. Now she wished she had—unfastening the back of the gown was going to be difficult, and if her stepmother Melissa came and found her still not changed...
Sighing, her. young, finely molded features rather pensive, she eventually was able to unfasten the gown and disrobe, laying aside without regret the beautiful, extravagant wedding gown. The gown meant little to her—it, like the entire wedding, had been planned for its propriety. Everything must be just so for the wedding of Lord Selby's only child.
And Elizabeth was a child, a lonely, lovely child, raised by servants, knowing little of her father except that he occasionally filled the huge rooms of Three Elms with his aristocratic friends and periodically trotted her out for inspection and comment. What she knew of life and the world beyond Maidstone was gleaned from books. Books were her only solace, in books she could lose herself and dream away the long empty hours.
Naturally she had gone to a fitting seminary for 10
young ladies, but, painfully shy, uncertain in her relationships, she had made only one friend.
Stella Valdez was everything that Elizabeth, or "Beth" as Stella called her affectionately, was not. Tall and dark, with laughing black eyes, forthright, two years older than Elizabeth and full of confidence, Stella was everything that Elizabeth longed to be. Having a family that adored her and being extremely warm-hearted herself, Stella had efficiently taken the small, pale girl under her wing. And through all the bewildering time at Mrs. Finche's Seminary for Young Ladies, Stella had shielded the quieter, gentler Elizabeth from the occasional spitefulness of some of the other girls. But then Stella had left, joining her family in the Mexican province of Coahuila, and fr
om then on Elizabeth had simply endured her time at the seminary until her course was completed and she possessed the attributes necessary for a young lady.
But she was still shy and uncertain, despite her determination to be like her friend and idol, Stella. She wanted to have people love her—someone special to love her!
Again, what she knew of love was based on the smuggled novels that she and Stella had read by candlelight in their tiny room at the seminary. She dreamed, as did many young girls, of romance and excitement, of a tall, black-haired, dangerous stranger who would enter her life and, with the suddenness of a thunderbolt, sweep her away with him to a place where they would live happily ever after.
Had Anne, too, dreamed of a life of love? she wondered with a lurch of her stomach. Had her mother thought her love for the young and handsome Lord Selby would overcome all the disapproval their marriage had caused?—a marriage that was certainly not all his family and friends would have expected of him!
Again Elizabeth felt a chill. Would her husband, her husband who was so different from her dreams, have second thoughts? Would he too perhaps decide he had married unwisely and prefer to forget the existence of a wife? Would he desert her in America?
She bit her lip, wishing suddenly that she had not 11
let her father and Melissa force her into this marriage. Now that the deed was done, Elizabeth was having very definite second thoughts, wondering if she had been wise to base a marriage only on respect, wondering if somehow she shouldn't have rebelled against her father's wishes.
Nathan Ridgeway was certainly a handsome young man. And as Melissa, her dark eyes glittering coldly, had mentioned more than once, he was a wealthy young man, a well connected young man, despite his American roots.
And so, like many another young girl faced with a hostile stepmother, a father who evinced little interest in her and who actively wantecTher out of his life, and a handsome, kind suitor pressing for acceptance of his proposal, Elizabeth had capitulated, smothering all her doubts, dreams, and reservations. What else was left open to her?
Louisiana 08 - While Passion Sleeps Page 1
