Regency Romance: An Intriguing Invitation (Historical Billionaire Military Romance) (19th Century Victorian Romance)

by Sarah Thorn

  “You must take me to my family. I must see them, I can still help them,” Said John.

  The old lady shook her head. “It has been almost a decade since they have seen you. Long ago your father swore you off. I don’t think that he would just welcome you back.”

  “But I must try,” demanded John.

  “Suit yourself,” she said. I am too old to take you there. But I can tell you how to get there.”

  The old lady explained the way. It was only a few miles down the road and then a few miles over a clearing near the woods. He would walk all night if he had to.

  “You know we don’t see much of them nowadays. Even at the community gatherings, they rarely show up. Maybe you can change things for them.”

  “I owe them at least that much, to try” said John. He thanked the old lady and was on his way. The pain of guilt for what he had done was acute. He walked faster. John was determined to do the right thing from now on. Was this God’s way of shaping his character?

  *****

  The next morning after breakfast, Mary said goodbye to Samuel. He had to return home to attend to his chores. They had enjoyed their time together. But the morning was filled with an overarching sadness that permeated and tinted everything. Mary knew that she was a slave to the debt that her father had left her. Samuel knew that he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life paying off a debt that wasn’t his own. Deborah wished her husband was still around and could makes things right.

  “He is a good man,” said Deborah. “I wish that you would be with him. He will make you a happy wife and you will have a good life.”

  “But mama, what about you and Ruth and the farm? I told Samuel our situation, mama. I don’t think that he is going to be proposing to me anytime soon,” said Mary.

  Deborah looked full of sadness. “You know you didn’t have to, Mary. This is not your debt. It is my debt. I was your father’s wife, not you. This is my reality, and my life’s problems, not yours. You didn’t have to tell him anything.”

  “And was I supposed to get married and live in a nice house while I see you suffering. I couldn’t bare it mama. I had to tell him. I don’t care if he doesn’t want any part of me now. Mama, a true man will find a way to fix this if he really cares,” cried Mary, now with tears streaming down her face. She embraced her mother.

  “Child, you are much too sweet for your own good. A man’s measure is not just in his ability to provide, but it is important. If you want someone that can provide and take care of all of us than you are free to want that. I just want you to be happy,” explained her mother.

  “Mama, you have always been there for me, and now I want to be there for you. I am confident that there will be a way out of this. We probably can’t even imagine what it is yet.”

  Mama smiled. “You know, Mary. In life there are always trials. But you can’t let that constantly make you unhappy. For if you do, you will never have a chance to be happy. Now, about that gathering tonight. I think that we should focus on that.”

  “Yes, we will get our chores done as quickly as we can and then get dressed and ready to go.” Mary had at least a semblance of happiness now, even if she had to fake it. They both knew that they could not possibly hope to get all of their chores done. Not by themselves.

  *****

  John knew that the Amish were a loving people. But they could be austere as they were a very rule abiding people. When he knocked on his father’s door, he gulped, nervous about what he would say and how we would react. The door opened.

  “Father,” John said. He looked older, his face more wizened. There was a sadness to him, that was different than John remembered.

  “My son, you have come back.” He was startled, seemingly taken aback. “You were gone for a long time…” John’s father looked almost dazed. He looked like he could be happy to see his son or angry. There was no way to tell. John hugged his father. His father embraced him, but then slowly pulled away. “Much has changed since you left. We have a new bishop now…”

  John sensed something was wrong. “A new Bishop? And what does that have to do with anything?”

  “The new bishop is not as forgiving of those that leave as the last one. You know the rules, John. You have caused so much pain to our family and this community. Do you know what happened to your mother?”

  John knew. he nodded. This was the reaction that he feared he would get. “But father, I want to come back, I want to build a relationship with God, and with you. There is nothing for me in the outside world. I know that now. There has to be a way.”

  Jeremiah shook his head. “I don’t know if that is possible. You can come in, and stay the night, but you will not be welcomed in this community. I know that for sure.” Jeremiah hugged his son again. But it was filled with the sadness that it could not last.

  Father and son sat at the table and talked. John’s siblings joined in. They were much older, now grown, but had to stay to look after their father. “Is the Bishop so determined in his mind that there is no way I could ever be welcomed back?” Asked John.

  “Son, you know the history of our church. You know that when a person is excommunicated it is a strong and nearly permanent severance from the community. I would never say there is not hope though. There have been instances when a person was welcomed back in.”

  “And under what circumstances? What did the person have to do to be welcomed back?” Asked John. He wondered if he had made the wrong decision in coming here.

  “You know what we believe, my son. You know that we value work and contributing to the community. We are not allowed to have insurance, even, because we are to depend on each other for help. That is our way of life, it will never change.” Jeremiah got a glass of water. “Think of the negative impact you have had. How would the Bishop know that you were not going to continue in your destructive ways. How could I know that you are changed.” Jeremiah lowered his head in sadness. “Our austere life makes us who we are. We are simple folk, and we do not question much. If we did, we would not be who we are. I think that tomorrow you should go to the Bishop and talk with him. I do not know what he will say, but there is always a chance.”

  “I will do that,” said John. “But for now, let us have one more night like old times. It would do me more good than you could imagine.”

  Jeremiah agreed. He stoked the fire, warming the house. The whole family sang songs together, and enjoyed the breaking of bread. Jeremiah wished that his son could stay. It would give him a sense of peace in his life, that what was lost has been restored. But there was also a part of him that didn’t know if he could ever forgive his son. He hoped that the bishop would agree to letting his son live with him. Even if he didn’t, Jeremiah knew he would still let his son stay, even if it was in secret.

  John slept on the couch that night. Amish beds are not known for their comfort, let alone their couches. It was very stiff, but it was home. He was now with the plain folk that he had grown up with. He looked around the dark room, barely illuminated by the moonlight that seeped through the windows. There were no pictures on the walls, no colors of any kind beside grey and white and black. There was nothing that would promote vanity.

  It was the exact opposite of what John had gotten used to during his time in the city. The Amish desired humility above all else. They desired to spend their lives seeking God, and not vain entertainment. John thought back to the stories he had heard as a kid. He remembered studying the Bible every day. There was something about it. Something that spoke to him. He couldn’t put his finger on it. As he thought about these things, he grew tired and drifted into deep sleep.

  *****

  Mary wore the same clothes that she always wore, it made things simple. The gathering that she was going to was to be at the Bishop’s house. Amish never get together for parties or festivals, so an event like this was something to get excited about. Mary knew that the men would gather and talk about the community and ways to improve life. She wished that her father were ther
e. He would be able to talk to the Bishop about needing money. But if her father were there she wouldn’t need money.

  She wanted to spend her time talking with Samuel, but now she didn’t know if he felt the same way anymore. Besides, he would be busy talking with the other men.

  “Are you ready, Mary?” asked her mama.

  “Yes, mama, I will be right out,” she said.

  Sarah and her little sister Ruth got inside the Buggy. The bishop lived about five miles away, so the trip would take about half an hour. Sarah and her mother knew they wouldn’t discuss the matters of the farm with her little sister sitting there. She was too young to be burdened with the realities of adult life.

  The sun was still out, as the Amish rarely stayed up past sundown. Sarah tried to enjoy the scenery but it was difficult for her. It was difficult because of the heavy burden she carried. She wondered if this would always be the case, that she would never truly be happy again.

  The Bishop lived in a larger home than the rest of the plain folk. It was not that he wanted to flaunt his wealth, but for purely practical reasons; as many social events took place there. Mary and her mother hitched the buggy out front. A few other families had already arrived, and there were a few more yet to come.

  *****

  John sat, waiting for the Bishop. He had lived long enough in the Amish community to know what to expect. He would be interviewed and the Bishop would try to make a determination of if he was fit to return. The Bishoped entered the room.

  He looked middle aged, younger than most Bishop’s and younger than the last one. John knew that probably wasn’t a good sign. A young Bishop would be afraid of bending any rules. He would want to assert his authority in order to keep order in the community.

  “My name is Ezekiel,” said the Bishop. He seemed nice enough, as most Amish were, even in the face of grim circumstances. “And you must be John.”

  “That is right, I have come here to…”

  The Bishop cut him off. “I know why you have come here. Do you not think that your story is well known in this community?” The Bishop looked serious. But there was a hint of understanding behind his stern look.

  “That is what I was afraid of,” replied John. “Afraid of my story being well known, that is to say, a bad example of how a person ought to be.”

  The Bishop nodded in agreement. “You know your situation,” he said. “And so if I were to grant you back into this community, how do you think that would look. How do you think it would make me look?”

  “I think that it would make you look forgiving, like a true Christian ought to be,” replied John.

  “Do not talk to me about how a true Christian ought to act,” retorted the Bishop quickly. “I am not the one that abandoned his family and caused untold grief in this community.” The Bishop shook his head. “You are too young to understand. But the main reason we excommunicate is so that we do not build up false hope. Suppose that we didn’t forget about you? Suppose that we prayed for your return every single day?”

  “Wouldn’t that be the right thing to do?” Asked John.

  “No, we have our traditions for a reason. If we change them, if we bend them then we are liable to be taken advantage of and for our culture to fall apart. I am sorry, John. But you have to see it from my perspective. What I can say is that I will let you approach this as any outsider would. You may visit us, you may even stay the night with folks that will let you. But you cannot live here permanently, and you cannot become of a member of the church. That is, unless you show through your actions that you have changed and can be a valued member of our community. Is that understood?”

  John nodded. “You have been fair in your judgment. I do want to move back, and be a member again. So look for me to be around, doing good works and honoring God once again. I will atone for my mistakes.” With that John shook the Bishop’s hand and left the room.

  When he walked downstairs he noticed quite a large group gathered. First one person stared at him, and then another and another. It made him feel like an outsider. He made his way downstairs, trying not to make eye contact with anybody. Clearly they knew that he was the prodigal son. And clearly he was not welcome.

  When he went outside, he noticed a girl crying. “Are you alright?”

  Mary looked up. She did not recognize John, and she was embarrassed that a stranger saw her crying. “I am okay, there is nothing wrong here,” she said.

  John was curious. She looked sad and hurt, like himself. He sat down beside her on the bench. “Why aren’t you inside with everyone else?”

  “It is a long story. I thought that I was in love, and that I was going to be engaged soon. But that looks like it will never happen…” She began to cry too hard to continue.

  “I have time for a long story,” said John. “But I think that we should go for a walk. This place has a few too many judging eyes for my liking.

  Mary nodded. When her eyes cleared up, she noticed that John was extremely well built and handsome. He didn’t have a beard, meaning that he was single. And his hair was styled, not plain like the rest of her kin. He talked differently too. He wasn’t so reserved and afraid to come across as being confident. “Who are you?”

  “You mean you haven’t heard of me?”

  Mary shook her head. “Should I have?”

  “Oh I don’t really know what to think anymore. Some people have heard of me here, I know that for sure. And a lot of them don’t want me back.” John played with the dirt with his shoe, annoyed at his situation. “It was a long time ago, but the past cannot be changed.”

  Mary thought about his words. She knew them to be true. What was his pain? “Thank you for taking the time to talk to me, it means a lot?”

  John smiled. “It means alot that you would take the time to talk to me,” he replied.

  Mary laughed to herself. “Well clearly neither of us are on top of the world right now. Tell me what troubles you. I am here to listen. I won’t judge.”

  Something about the way that Mary said those words made him believe that she was telling the truth. He looked closer into her eyes. “I am lost.”

  “Lost? Well where are you trying to go? I can help you get there.”

  “No, not lost in that sense. I don’t what I am supposed to do with my life. I have…”

  “You have been on the outside, living the englishers. Haven’t you?” Asked Mary.

  John was surprised. “Wait, I thought you didn’t know who I was, how did you know that?”

  Mary laughed out loud this time. “I don’t know who you are, silly. It is the way that you talk, the way that you dress, and just the way that you carry yourself in general. You stick out like a sore thumb. I have been scolded once for walking too worldly like. We plain folk work hard to be the same you know.”

  John knew she was right. “I guess I forgot about how much different I had become.” He wondered if that was why people had been staring at him. Perhaps it wasn’t so much that they hadn’t forgiven him, but more that he was different, and they weren’t used to that. “Well anyway. I was living with the englishers, yes, and it just didn’t feel right.”

  “I have only been on the outside for a short time during rumspringa,” said Mary. “Why didn’t you like it?”

  “It wasn’t that I didn’t like it. At first I loved it. There are a lot of fun things to do in this world. But after a while it all seemed empty and meaningless. As if they just try to entertain themselves and keep their minds distracted so they don’t have to think about life, and what truly matters. For I think that if a lot of those folks did they would not like what they see.”

  Mary listened and thought his words to be interesting. And in some way they made sense to her. “And the belonging that you seek, have you felt it since you have returned?”

  John nodded. “Not at first. But you have looked at me differently than any girls or any person for that matter.” John was hoping that he wasn’t being too weird.

  Mary was not use
d to guys talking like this. The plain folk would hardly speak their mind to a girl they didn’t know. But she found it refreshing. “And how have I looked at you,” she asked, genuinely interested.

  “You seem to notice me.”

  “Do other girls not notice you.”

  “I mean the real me,” explained John. He was thinking about the girls at the bar, the ones that he knew just cared about your job and your car and what you were wearing. “You look at the heart, not just at how I can help you.”

  John’s words touched Mary. It had been a while since she had heard something to cheer her up, and the words were welcome. “That is how I was raised. I had a very good father…” She trailed off.

  “What happened to your father?” Asked John.

  “He passed away suddenly from a heart attack. Now things are so hard for my family. I don’t want to bore you with my problems. It doesn’t seem to be what guys want to hear.” Tears welled up in her eyes again.

  “What kind of problems are you having,” asked John. He knew that he genuinely cared and wanted to help.

  Mary was reluctant to answer. She had already had one guy seemingly lose interest because of her problems. Why should she tell this guy. But something told her it would be okay. “We might lose our house and our farm. If a miracle doesn’t happen soon, we will lose it. I am scared, I don’t know what will happen to my mother and my sister. I could marry and be taken care of, but I just don’t want to leave my family. I don’t know what to do. I am lost too,” she said.