Before it seemed possible, their twenty-third birthday arrived. Marcus would never forget that day in May when his sister came to him in a panic. He had just made a life-changing decision in the seclusion of the richly carpeted, wood-paneled library and was considering how best to break the news to Merry. Would she understand, or would it create the first real rift of their lives, and color the future?
“What am I going to do?” she demanded, wringing her hands and dropping into a tapestry-covered chair beside the massive fireplace with its cozy fire. “It has been wonderful flitting about the world. I never dreamed my traveling would so thin the ranks of eligible suitors! Marcus, if something doesn’t happen soon, I’m in serious danger of becoming an old maid.” The idea was ludicrous; laughter spilled from Marcus like water over Niagara Falls. “You, an old maid? Hardly!”
She raised her chin, and her expression chilled. “I fail to find anything humorous about the situation.” A quiver in her voice alerted her brother to trouble.
“My word, you’re really serious, aren’t you?” Marcus could scarcely believe it.
“Yes. Percival Vandevere just got engaged. So did Howell DeWitt and—”
Marcus gasped. “Don’t tell me you considered marrying one of those fops!”
“Both are high on the social register,” she retorted.
“Neither has ever done an honest day’s work in his life and their family fortunes were acquired by less than honorable means,” Marcus snapped. “If Father were still alive, he’d squelch that idea in a hurry.”
“I have to marry,” Meredith Rose reminded him. “It’s what women do.”
“Why? You can stay single and keep house for me, old dear,” he teased. “Besides,” Marcus added fiercely, “I’d rather see you marry a working man than anyone like Vandevere or DeWitt.”
Disbelief shone in his twin’s blue eyes, followed by scorn. “I? Marry a working man?” She delicately shuddered and turned up her nose. “I hope you aren’t going to disgrace the Macrae name by taking up with some common girl who doesn’t know which fork to use at dinner.”
Marcus leaned back in his luxurious chair. “You really are a snob, aren’t you?”
Angry color flared in her smooth cheeks, and she leaped to her feet. “I am not a snob. I just know what is expected of me. I pray you do, as well.”
Marcus knew the moment had come. Not the ideal time for his confession, but it could wait no longer. “Sit down, please, Merry. I have something to tell you.”
Apparently mollified by his refusal to be baited, she flounced back into her chair. “I hope it’s good news.”
Heart pounding, Marcus leaned forward and rested his hands on his knees. “The most wonderful news in the world, as far as I am concerned.” He wistfully added, “I hope you think so, too. You said you pray that I will do what is expected of me. For months I have been asking for enlightenment to find out just what that is.”
His sister’s mouth opened in a little round O, but she remained silent.
“Do you remember when we invited Jesus into our hearts when we were very young?” Marcus began, praying that she would understand what had happened to him.
Her eyes opened wide. “Of course, but what does that have to do with—”
“It has everything to do with it, Merry. I believe with all my heart that God is calling me to serve Him by becoming a minister.” His ringing voice filled the library. “I also want to learn at least the rudiments of medicine.”
“A minister! You?”
His blue gaze never left hers. “Yes. I know I’m not worthy, but I intend to be.” Unable to stay seated, he stood and paced the carpeted floor. “Until now, I’ve played the part of an idler.” He felt shame suffuse his face. “Don’t misunderstand. I’ve enjoyed our life of ease—of being with you in all kinds of delightful adventures. But through it all, I’ve felt hollow. Even going to church hasn’t filled the emptiness inside me.”
She stirred in her chair and looked perplexed. “I’ve never heard you speak like this before. Are you sure you aren’t just bored?”
“I thought so at first. Not now. I’ve been studying the Bible, especially the lives of the disciples and others whom Jesus called to serve Him. I want to be one of them.”
The tick of the ancestral clock on the mantel sounded loud in Marcus’s ears. Tick tock. Tick tock. Ticking off the seconds while he waited in suspense. Please, God, help her accept my decision, even if she cannot comprehend.
Seconds became minutes before Meredith Rose answered. When she did, it was with outstretched hands and tear-wet lashes. “Dear Marcus, if God is calling you to serve Him, serve you must.” She smiled.
He grasped her hands and knelt by her chair. “Thank you.” It was all he could get out.
After a long moment, a small voice asked, “What about me? Your decision doesn’t find me a husband.”
For the second time that day, Marcus’s laughter swept through the room. “No, it doesn’t, but don’t you see, Merry? If God wants us to have mates, He can send them at just the right time. All we have to do is pray and wait.”
“Herbert isn’t coming, is he?” His sister’s voice yanked Marcus from the past back to the present.
“He may just be late,” Marcus reminded her.
She shook her head. “That’s unlikely. He prides himself on being prompt at all times. Or at least sending a message when he is delayed.”
The door burst open. A man Marcus remembered seeing with Calloway stepped inside. “Mr. Macrae? A message for you.” He proffered a sealed white envelope and started out.
“Wait. There may be an answer.”
The man’s lips set in a grim line. “Begging your pardon, sir, but I was told there would be no reply.” He went out, closing the door behind him.
“What on earth was that all about?” Meredith Rose demanded.
Marcus tore open the envelope and removed the crested notepaper inside. Fury rose until he thought he would choke. “What a rotter!”
“What does it say?” She snatched the page. Face whiter than her gown, Meredith Rose maintained a remarkably steady voice as she read the message aloud: “ ‘By the time you get this, Gwendolyn Arlington and I will be married. Although she is much younger, under the circumstances, I am sure you will understand. Herbert Calloway.’ ” The signature had the peculiar little flourish he always used.
The humiliation in his sister’s face struck deep into Marcus’s soul. Yet a spark of hope ignited when he saw the flush of anger that crept from the high neck of her bridal gown and drove away her pallor. Perhaps pride was more involved than love.
“What a coward! He didn’t even have the courtesy to address this to me.” Meredith Rose jerked the lace mitts from her hands and shredded the page. For a moment she stared at her engagement ring with its enormous, sparkling diamond surrounded by a galaxy of lesser stones, then tore it from her finger and flung it to the floor.
“It was always too ostentatious, anyway,” she said through gritted teeth. “I wonder how that cat Gwendolyn Arlington will enjoy wearing it.” Her eyes flashed. “I’m surprised he sent word before I got to the altar.” She paused. “What did he mean by that cryptic ‘under the circumstances’?”
Marcus recoiled. His pain intensified. Surviving Herbert Calloway’s desertion was one thing. Facing the shattering news Marcus had planned to withhold until she was safely married was another. To gain time, he stooped, picked up the ring, and shoved it in the breast pocket of his tailored coat. “Time enough to talk about that when we get home. Will you be all right until I tell the minister there won’t be a wedding?”
“Yes.” She stumbled to a nearby chair.
Marcus chucked her under the chin the way he had done when they were small. “Brace up, old girl. Things could be worse. What if you had married the cur, then found out what he really is?” The horror that sprang to Merry’s eyes added fuel to Marcus’s kindled hope that the blow was more to her pride than the loss of love. He quickly a
dded, “God has delivered you from a lifetime of misery,” and strode out—trying to decide whether to throttle Calloway or fervently thank him.
Chapter 2
Marcus Macrae’s words rang in his sister’s ears. “What if you had married the cur?” Then, “God has delivered you from a lifetime of misery.”
Meredith Rose shuddered at her narrow escape and stared at the floor. She wanted to shriek to the high heavens. If God had really wanted to spare her, why had He sent Herbert Calloway into her life? Did God send him, or was it all your own doing? her sense of fair play protested. She squirmed, remembering the aftermath of that fateful May day when she was twenty-three….
When Marcus announced he’d been called to become a minister, she’d known nothing would ever be the same. She and Marcus had clung to one another from the time they could toddle, especially after their parents died in a railway accident when the twins were in their late teens. He was the dearest person on earth to her—and the only one she allowed to call her Merry. “It’s too frivolous for my position,” she protested.
Marcus only laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners in the way that always lifted her spirits. He made a low bow. “Your will is my command, Miss Macrae.”
“If you are going to play court jester, I suppose you may call me Merry,” she told him in a long-suffering tone of voice. “You will, anyway.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” He bowed again.
A rush of love for the brother who always seemed much older than she filled her. “You may call me anything you wish, Marcus.” She anxiously peered into his face. “Just so nothing ever comes between us. It won’t, will it?”
His mirth fled. “No, Merry. We are two against the world now that Mother and Father are gone. At least until we marry, you are first in my world.”
“I feel the same,” she murmured, comforted by his promise.
Their deep and abiding love for one another continued untroubled—until Marcus’s call to serve. Meredith Rose instantly recognized their relationship must irrevocably change. She would always hold a special place in her twin’s heart, yet she would no longer be first with Marcus. God had replaced her. Even though she knew it was as it should be, a sense of loss pervaded the innermost parts of her being. Marcus could no longer be the willing companion in whatever pleasures she conjured up, free as a butterfly in summer to take off at a moment’s notice. He must study and prepare.
“What about me?” she asked. “Your decision doesn’t find me a husband.”
His reply sank deep into her heart. “If God wants us to have mates, He can send them at just the right time. All we have to do is pray and wait.”
Meredith Rose secretly pondered Marcus’s words, wondering if he could be right. He certainly sounded confident, but she wasn’t sure. Why should God do anything for her, when she had done so little for Him? After asking Jesus into her heart, her religious life consisted of attending formal service on Sundays and contributing to the needy. She also lent her name to various charities. In the light of Marcus’s decision to follow the Master, her own contributions seemed insignificant.
Weary weeks became restless months. Meredith Rose chafed at being denied her brother’s company because of his need to study but she wisely never let it show. She also began to dream and scheme toward the day when Marcus would occupy the pulpit of a noted Boston church. The Macrae name could open gates padlocked against others less fortunate. In the meantime, her own life had grown dull and flat.
In desperation she turned to God, beseeching Him for favors, deserved or not.
Nothing happened.
She continued to beat on the doors of heaven. “Can’t you hear me, God? I really need Your help, now that You’ve taken Marcus away from me.” The prayer sounded childish even to her own ears, so she hastily added, “It’s not that I begrudge losing him to You. Well, at least not much. It’s just that his involvement leaves me with too much time on my hands. Please, won’t You change my life, too?”
A few weeks later, it appeared her prayers were being answered, at least in part. Miss Grenadier, founder and director of the exclusive Miss Grenadier’s School for Young Ladies, which Meredith Rose had attended, came to call. “Miss Macrae, I hope you don’t find it presumptuous of me to ask, but would you consider teaching for us?”
The woman twisted her gloved hands. “We are in desperate need. Having your name on our faculty will ensure we can attract students from the best families. I remember how popular you were with both fellow students and your instructors. We would love to have you join us.”
Meredith Rose’s first inclination was to respond with a haughty and resounding no. Before she could speak, a thought stole into her mind. Don’t be too hasty about turning her down. Teaching would at least relieve your boredom while you’re waiting for God to send you your Sir Galahad.
The idea was too strong to be ignored. “What would my duties be?” She laughed carelessly. “It’s been a long time since I diagramed sentences or worked fractions.”
Miss Grenadier’s eyes gleamed with obvious satisfaction. “Oh, we have others to handle those subjects. We need you to teach our girls more important things: elocution, deportment, music, painting—I remember how skilled you were with the pianoforte and brush—that kind of thing. In short, you’d help us turn out real ladies, like yourself.”
The flattery piqued Meredith Rose’s interest. “How soon will you need to know?”
The woman looked troubled. “We are really shorthanded.” She sniffed. “The former teacher was terribly inconsiderate! She resigned without giving proper notice in order to marry. Can you imagine?” She rushed on. “Would you be able to give us an answer in a week?”
When Meredith Rose nodded, Miss Grenadier clasped her hands and said, “I am so thrilled! Just the thought of having you become one of us is…” She left rejoicing, as though Meredith Rose Macrae were already “one of them.”
“What have I done?” the young woman wondered. “Do I really want to teach, even those enjoyable activities?” She looked around the library, feeling the walls were closing in on her. “At least I’m not firmly committed.”
That evening before Marcus began his nightly studies, Meredith Rose told him of the position she had been offered.
“Take it,” he advised. “You’ll do a great job.” He sighed. “I know these last months haven’t been easy. You need something on which you can focus, Merry. Something into which you can pour your time and energy. You aren’t cut out for sitting idle. You don’t care for heading up charitable drives or doing volunteer nursing.”
She shook her head in disgust.
He grinned at her. “Why not give it a try? If you don’t like it, the school won’t be any worse off than it is now.”
The next day Meredith Rose became “Miss Macrae” and entered a life as far from her former indolent existence as Boston from Australia.
“I like it,” she reported to Marcus at the end of the first week. “I actually like it.” She laughed deprecatingly. “Of course, if I had to teach such mundane lessons as grammar and the multiplication tables, it would be a different story!”
“Always taking the easy way out,” he teased, but she could see he was pleased that she no longer moped around home. Now when Marcus studied at one side of the beautiful library, she busied herself at the other. She hunted out music for the girls’ chorus, who would do her proud in an upcoming presentation. She pictured herself in a rich sapphire velvet gown, bowing before beaming parents and accepting their gratitude. Recitations from the classics as well as original essays from the brightest students would be included. All were designed to bring even more glory to Meredith Rose and show the world how fortunate Miss Grenadier’s School for Young Ladies was to have her on its staff.
Despite her new interest, despite the smashing success of the presentation and others like it, prayers for God to send a husband who would change her life even further remained in the teacher’s heart and often on her lips.
&
nbsp; A year slipped by. Another. No Sir Galahad appeared, although Meredith Rose continued to remind God she was still waiting. Marcus completed his ministerial studies and began his preaching career, studying medicine on the side. To his sister’s dismay, he refused a desirable offer from a prominent denomination in favor of working with a small church on the outskirts of Boston.
“I know you had your heart set on my occupying a high position, Merry,” he said sadly, “but the people at Community Christian need me. Those attending First Central don’t.” All her pleading that the powerful and the mighty deserved to hear the gospel as well as the poor and humble didn’t change his mind.
Now she saw him less than ever. Whenever Pastor Marcus—who steadfastly refused to be called Reverend—wasn’t conducting services, he was counseling families, visiting the sick, or searching out food and shelter for the needy. At his urging, Meredith Rose accompanied him now and then but decided she was too delicate for the sights, sounds, and smells of social work. “Besides,” she reasoned, “I’m providing service to the girls I teach.”
Once, in a moment of depression, a sigh so deep she felt it began at her toes and crept upward escaped. Perhaps teaching was all she would ever do. All the other girls in her social set had married. Most had babies. Why had God denied her the joy of being a wife and mother? The thought planted itself in Meredith Rose’s mind and haunted her. In less than two weeks, she would be twenty-seven years old. Crop after crop of debutantes had entered society and taken her place, leaving her to wither on the vine, an object of pity among those she once called friends.
Reluctant Brides Collection Page 45
