“I should think not. But I also need to go there to ensure the annulment.”
“Yes, of course. Will you stay then? Once all is sorted out.” Elizabeth felt that her very life depended on the answer to the question.
“Actually John is looking for a partner, here in Midchester.”
“So you'll return.” Elizabeth tried to keep the excitement out of her voice.
“I may. It's just...”
“What?”
“I'm told that you wish to leave this place.”
“I did, for a while. But when I didn't see Samuel and my father at breakfast on Christmas morning, I realised what I would be losing by going. Not that I wouldn't like to travel one day. But I think I should always want to come home. I daresay that sounds very dull to you, who have travelled so much.”
“No, it sounds perfect.” He stopped walking and took her gloved hand. “Elizabeth.”
She became shy, remembering his status as a married man, even if only technically so. “I think perhaps we should behave circumspectly,” she said.
“Oh bother being circumspect. I love you, Elizabeth. I've loved you from the first moment I saw you, kneeling by that poor man in the snow. I had forgotten that a woman could be so kind and compassionate.” Liam pulled her into his arms. “I know that I said that after having one wife I did not want another, but I was angry and bitter when I said that. I knew I had been duped, only with no idea to what extent. But now I know the truth, I also know that Dora or Clara or whatever her darned name is, is not typical of all women. She is certainly not you. I won't force my attentions on you, not with things as they are, but can I at least extract a promise from you that when my name is cleared, and I am a free man in every sense of the word, you will be waiting for me when I return to Midchester?”
“I promise.”
#
The months passed, with winter turning into spring. As Liam had promised, Elizabeth looked outside one morning and saw daffodils growing in the gardens and on the verges of the roads in the village. Midchester, after its long winter nap, was coming alive again, with fairs and markets, and the promise of a new day. The pond rippled with new life, and the spectre of George Sanderson encased in snow had disappeared with the cold. The only cloud was that Elizabeth had not heard from Liam for a week or more. She knew things had gone well in India, because he had written and told her. Under the circumstances, Liam was cleared of all wrongdoing, and the fact of his escape understood as the act of an innocent and desperate man.
So it was with a heavy heart that she set out to the village square one morning to fetch provisions. She had been able to discard her winter coat, and wore a pretty dress with white and blue stripes.
With a sigh, she entered the bakers, and bought two loaves of bread. Then she went along to the grocery store for flour and eggs. She thought of making a cake for Samuel's tea. He had invited Johnny Fletcher over. But none of these preparations filled the ache in her heart.
Perhaps, she thought, her initial feelings were right. That she and Liam had come together under extreme circumstances. He had not promised her marriage. He had only asked that she would wait for him. So she had waited. In her heart, she still waited. Only her mind, annoyingly sensible to the end, told her that he had merely seen her as a sympathetic soul at a time when his life was at its lowest ebb. Now back in India, he would no doubt fall back into his old life as a doctor, finding much to enthrall him.
She strolled back to the vicarage, in no particular rush. Mrs. Chatterbucks and Miss Graves were walking back from the direction of the vicarage. “You have a visitor,” said Mrs. Chatterbucks, smiling secretively.
“Oh dear, we were not supposed to say,” said Miss Graves. “But it is a fine carriage, is it not?”
Elizabeth presumed they meant her aunt had called. Lady Bedlington had been far more sociable of late, having decided she was not ill after all. As such she threw herself into the community with gusto. Whether the community wanted her constant interference into affairs it had managed quite well without her for many years, was another matter, but as the matriarch of the area, no one dared tell her that.
She saw the carriage when she was about a hundred yards from the vicarage. It was a fine carriage, but not her aunt's. She saw a figure come out of the vicarage door and look down the street towards her. He wore light, trousers, and a cream coloured jacket, more suited to tropical climes.
“Elizabeth...” She saw his lips form her name, and her heart did a triple somersault.
The basket fell to the floor, breaking the eggs and scattering the flour, but Elizabeth did not care. She ran to Liam's outstretched arms.
“I thought you had forgotten me,” she said, when he had finished kissing her.
“No, my love. I was going to tell you I was coming, but I just needed to get here. I wanted to be sure I was free of the ghost of Christmas past before sullying our love with her presence. And now I am, and we can marry. You will marry me, won't you?”
“Oh yes!” Oblivious to people watching from the street, including the sisters, who had turned back to watch the romantic drama unfold, she kissed him.
“I want you to know I’ll be true to you. I am not the man I led you to believe at your aunt’s Christmas ball. A man who would deceive the wife he vowed to love. I would not for one minute offer you anything other than my utter devotion.”
“And I want you to know,” said Elizabeth lowering her voice so that the spectators couldn’t hear, but answering the longing in her whole body, “that I intend to be your wife in every way. I mean...” She blushed, afraid he would think her too forward. Instead she saw the same hunger in his eyes that she knew shone in hers.
“Then the sooner your father marries us the better,” he said in a husky voice, before kissing her again. “Do you think he’ll do it today?”
“I’m sure he would if we asked.”
“Or do you want to wait? Have a proper wedding, and the wonderful dress you deserve. Not that you don’t look utterly beautiful in the one you’re wearing.”
“I want to be your wife now, today,” she said. “I’ve waited long enough.”
“I love you, Elizabeth Dearheart,” he cried out, picking her up in his arms and spinning her around. “My dear heart ... And now I can let the whole world know it!”
The sisters watched from afar, each with a smile on their face.
“Well I never,” said Miss Graves, dreamily.
“No, dear, I don't suppose you ever did,” said Mrs. Chatterbucks.
The End
The Ghost of Christmas Past Page 10
