Adam's Promise

by Julianne MacLean

  Quite unable to mask the despair in her voice, Madeline lowered her gaze to her hands on her lap. “I wish she had your vision, my lord.”

  Madeline did care about Diana, she truly did. Even though Madeline was angry at her for all the cruel things she had said in their lifetime together, Madeline still wanted her sister to rise from this setback. She wanted her to find joy in life again, no matter what became of their sisterly relationship.

  There was a moment of grief-filled silence, then Lord Blackthorne pushed himself to his feet. He squeezed the polished brass handle of his cane. “May I see her? I might be of some assistance. I have personal experience with this sort of thing after all.”

  Madeline rose. “I will go and tell her, my lord. I’m certain she would be grateful for your concern and your generous regard for her welfare. I’ll need just a moment.”

  She calmly left the parlor, but Adam followed and took hold of her arm. “What happened with Diana?” he whispered. “Did you talk to her?”

  She saw the hope in his eyes again, and couldn’t bear to look at him. She lowered her own gaze. “Yes, I did, Adam. Nothing has changed.”

  Adam let go of her arm and dropped his hand to the side. His dark eyes narrowed and hardened. She felt she had failed him. She had failed him.

  “Right. That’s it, then,” he said flatly. “I see I was wrong to have thought there was more to you than what you have shown me. Go now. Go and be with your sister.”

  He turned on his heel and went to join the lieutenant-governor again in the parlor.

  Fighting tears, Madeline picked up her skirts and walked slowly up the stairs to Diana’s bedchamber.

  Two days later, after Lord Blackthorne had spent the better part of each one talking to Diana, she surprised everyone by asking to take supper downstairs at the dining table.

  Hilary spared nothing in preparing her ladyship for dinner. She washed her hair and swept it into a spectacular twist on top of her head, helped her into her best silk gown and draped her in her most exquisite jewels.

  Adam carried Diana down, and she sat across from Lord Blackthorne while Madeline and Penelope served the meal. The whole family was present except for Mary and Jacob, who were now living in their own home, and the conversation was light and full of laughter.

  “You still remember nothing from the flood?” Lord Blackthorne asked over dessert, leaning forward with fascination. “Even after Madeline described it all to you again today? What a remarkable situation. Does it trouble you greatly, Lady Thurston?”

  Diana raised her wineglass. “No, it is truly the least of my troubles. How can one regret what one cannot remember? To put it simply, I really don’t know what I am missing.”

  Lord Blackthorne laughed uproariously. “Oh, what a wit you have, Lady Thurston, and after such an ordeal. I am both dazzled and moved by your courage and fortitude.”

  Madeline glanced across the table at Adam. He was watching her. Studying her. She felt exposed, as if he knew every thought she was having, even though for the past two days they had not spoken a word to each other.

  In many respects, she was an open book to him now, no matter how hard she tried to keep herself closed off to the world. He knew she was aching from a botched attempt to reconcile with her sister. He knew she loved him, but was afraid to give in to it.

  She hated that open feeling. It was strange and unfamiliar to her.

  Adam slowly blinked and turned his cool gaze away from her. She could see how angry he was in the set of his jaw, the way he squeezed his spoon. He did not even want to look at her now. He had finally accepted that she was not the person he thought she was, and he could not change her.

  Her entire being flooded with sadness at that moment, and a profound sense of loss. The loss of hope.

  Was it too late to become that person? she wondered suddenly, knowing that he was right about so many things. She was afraid, and she was clinging to something that no longer existed. She had tried to reconcile with Diana, and Diana had rejected her.

  Was Madeline going to allow that rejection to destroy her and stop her from finding happiness somewhere else? It was true: Madeline was using duty as an excuse to run from what could be the best thing that ever happened to her.

  She gazed with fresh eyes at her sister, and felt she was seeing her for the first time.

  Diana giggled and gave the viscount a sweet, humble smile.

  Madeline felt her own courage and fortitude rising. Perhaps there was still a chance.

  After dinner, Adam carried Diana into the parlor and she entertained everyone with her talents at the pianoforte. Madeline turned the sheet music for her, while Diana sang a ballad and a few old English folk songs, bowing her head appreciatively at the applause after each piece.

  Adam then carried her to the sofa, where she sat with Lord Blackthorne, telling him more about her life in England as Lady Thurston, and how she had spent her days there.

  From her chair in the corner of the parlor, Madeline noticed Penelope yawn and knew she should take the children upstairs. She collected them, they said good-night, then she escorted them to the stairs. She stopped, however, when she heard Adam address her from the parlor door.

  “You’ll return?” he said in a cool, formal tone.

  She hesitated a moment, staring into the intense blue eyes that never failed to set her insides afire.

  Adam continued to gaze at her, waiting for her answer. Now was the time to act, if she was ever to find her own happiness. Yes. She would act. She would talk to him tonight. Try to fix things.

  A knock rapped at the door. Madeline jumped. Adam seemed startled, too. He turned to answer it.

  Madeline waited at the bottom of the stairs to see who had come calling at this hour. As Adam opened the door, the bright pink of the final rays of the sunset momentarily blinded her before she could ascertain that the man at the door was John Metcalf.

  Adam cleared his throat. “Hello, John.”

  John removed his tricorn hat. “Evening, Mr. Coates. I know it’s late, but I wonder if I might have a word with Miss Oxley.”

  “This isn’t really the best time, John. As you can see, Lord Blackthorne is here, and—”

  “I know you have visitors, sir, and I’m sorry for intruding, but I just couldn’t wait.”

  For a long, tense moment, Adam stood in the doorway, barring John from entering, then he finally stepped aside. John nodded gratefully and entered. His gaze fell upon Madeline at the other end of the hall, and she froze there, not sure what she was feeling.

  Part of her was annoyed at John for interrupting her moment with Adam, when she was so close to finding her courage. Another part of her was thankful that John had interrupted, for she was not yet as brave as she wanted to be.

  Diana and Lord Blackthorne laughed from the parlor, seemingly unaware that anyone had even knocked on the door.

  “Miss Oxley, may I have a moment of your time?” John asked.

  Madeline looked at Adam questioningly. He gave her a nod that told her she was free to do as she wished.

  She whispered to the children to go upstairs and get ready for bed, and that she would be up shortly to say good-night. Then Madeline put one foot in front of the other, slowly moving down the hall to where Adam and John stood side by side, watching her.

  “Shall we go sit on the veranda, John? The sunset is quite lovely.”

  She noticed Adam’s shoulders rise and fall, and knew that he was worried.

  John sat on the bench outside on the veranda. “Thank you for seeing me, Madeline. I know it’s not the usual time to call, but I needed to come and say my piece, before it was too late.”

  “Too late?” she replied. “What is it, John, that holds such urgency?”

  He squeezed his hat in his callused hands, took a deep breath and blurted out, “I’ve come to ask you to marry me.”

  Lively music from the pianoforte inside began again, lending a clumsy quality to the already awkward moment.

&
nbsp; Madeline cleared her throat. “You surprise me, John. Why do you feel you must be rushed?”

  “Because I can see what’s going on with Mr.

  Coates.”

  Madeline stiffened. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Maybe you don’t see it, but he’s fallen in love with you. I saw it in his eyes the night he came to my house, searching for you. I saw it when he looked at you when you came out of Lady Thurston’s room, after the doctor tended to her, and I saw it in his eyes, just now. He didn’t want me to speak to you. I can’t in good conscience let you go on living here, especially when Mr. Coates is engaged to your sister. I’ve had a mind to propose for a while, and I decided I ought to do it now, before something terrible happens.”

  “Something terrible…such as?”

  “Before he…you’ll pardon me if I don’t say it, miss.”

  Madeline sat very still. “I have a will of my own, John. You need not worry about anything like that.” She recalled the day she’d punched a Yorkshire vicar between the eyes.

  He leaned back, only somewhat appeased. “My proposal still stands, Miss Oxley. I…I want to marry you.”

  John did care for her; she knew it with certainty. It wasn’t exactly the most romantic or heartfelt proposal she’d imagined—considering he made it appear that he was doing her a favor—but he was a decent man. She knew that, too.

  But did she love him?

  No.

  Could she ever love him?

  No, she could not. She loved only one man.

  She had to admit, however, there was something safe about being with John Metcalf. She noticed that her heart was not racing, and she felt no anxieties. There was nothing confusing about him.

  The truth of it was that he was not a danger to her, for there was no intimate connection between them. Nothing fragile. She could marry John and simply live a comfortable life in his house, farming the land, gardening, and fearing nothing, for essentially, she would continue to live alone.

  At least, her heart would. She could retreat into her own thoughts most of the time and make casual conversation with John when he was at home, and he would not even know that she was keeping anything from him, for he had never seen the real Madeline. He had never even suspected that there was a real Madeline beneath what she showed to the world.

  Adam knew it, and he made her feel so vulnerable.

  Yes, John would be safe.

  Still, she could not marry him. She would be making the same mistake Adam did not want to make—marrying someone he did not love. He said it would be a disservice to both parties involved. John deserved more.

  Besides that, she suspected John didn’t really love her either. At least not passionately. He was proposing to her because she was the only single woman in Cumberland, and he was afraid someone else was going to snatch her up before he had the chance to.

  Madeline reached for his hand. “I’m sorry, John, I can’t marry you.”

  He blinked a few times. “But why?”

  “Because I’m not in love with you, and you deserve to be adored by the woman you marry. I’m not the right one for you.”

  “But you’re the only one,” he replied.

  Madeline smiled gently. “That’s because I’m the only unmarried woman in Cumberland above the age of twelve.”

  He managed a laugh. For a moment, they both sat on the bench without saying anything.

  Madeline stood and hugged John. “I’m sorry. I hope we can still be friends.”

  “I guess that’ll have to do,” he replied.

  She took some comfort in the fact that she had not broken his heart. She could see it in his eyes.

  She said good-night to him and turned to go back inside. Stepping into the front hall, she peered into the parlor.

  There was Diana, all smiles and laughter, playing her heart out on the pianoforte while Lord Blackthorne turned the pages for her and sang along. What a silly little ditty it was that they played. Madeline had never heard it before.

  Contrarily, Adam sat in the chair by the fire with one leg crossed over the other, gazing dolefully into the flames.

  Madeline’s knees went weak at the sight of him in the firelight, looking so handsome and elegant. So somber. She longed to throw all her foolish caution to the wind and go to him. Pull him to his feet and tell him nothing mattered more to her than he did, for no one in her life had ever treated her better, or managed to open her eyes to what real love truly was.

  It wasn’t about loyalty or duty, she realized. It was about tenderness and affection and kindness. It was about how you treated someone.

  Madeline took a deep breath and slowly approached her sister. She didn’t even wait for the song she was playing to come to an end. Madeline tapped Diana on the shoulder.

  “I need to talk to you, Diana. It’s very important. Would you gentlemen excuse us, please?”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The men retreated to Adam’s study for brandy, and Diana glared up at Madeline from the piano bench. “That was very rude, Madeline! What did you think you were doing? Lord Blackthorne is an important man.”

  Madeline sat down beside her. “Yes, and I like him very much, but this could not wait.”

  “What could not wait? La, you’d think the house was on fire.”

  “It is, in a way.”

  “What in the world are you trying to say? As usual, you’re making no sense at all. Selfish, selfish, selfish.”

  Madeline held up her hand. “Diana, stop.”

  To Madeline’s surprise, Diana did stop. She gazed at Madeline with surprise, waiting for her to say what she wanted to say.

  Madeline tried to speak clearly and confidently. “I know that you’ve been through a difficult time, and you’re still not entirely better yet, but there is something you need to know about the day of your accident. Something happened, and there was a reason you went riding onto the marsh alone. This may come as a shock to you, but you were looking for me to tell me something, and—”

  Diana wiggled on the bench to face Madeline. “Wait, wait. Since we’re being honest with each other, I have something to tell you, too. I was afraid to tell you, because we have been growing so close lately…”

  Growing so close lately?

  “…and I know that you stayed here with Adam all this time to wait for me to finally arrive to marry him.”

  Distracted by the interruption, and losing her concentration, Madeline stared blankly at her sister.

  Diana continued. “The truth is, I need your help. I don’t know what to do.”

  “What kind of help?”

  Diana clasped both Madeline’s hands in hers. “Oh, my dearest sister. I am suffering.”

  “Why? What’s—”

  “Madeline, I can’t marry Adam! And I don’t know how to tell him.”

  Madeline slowly swallowed. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I can’t marry him!” She glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I thought I wanted to when I arrived, but life here is just not what I thought it would be. Adam is not what I thought he would be. He always…oh, heavens Madeline, he smells like the outdoors.”

  “He’s a farmer,” Madeline said dryly.

  “I know! That’s exactly it!”

  Madeline tried to keep herself from physically shaking her sister.

  “All that aside, the real problem now is that I’m afraid I’ve fallen in love with someone else.”

  Trying to focus on Diana’s lips moving, Madeline shook her head. “Who? You mean…”

  “Yes, the viscount. He adores me, Madeline, but he respects Adam and does not wish to do anything dishonorable.”

  “Are you sure? Has he confessed his feelings to you?”

  She whispered even more quietly. “Yes. He told me tonight, while you were outside with Mr. Metcalf. Incidentally, what happened out there?”

  Madeline’s reply came out light and airy, as if her words were floating languidly on her disbelief. “He
proposed to me.”

  “Heavens. What did you say?”

  “I said no.”

  “But why?”

  “Because I don’t love him.”

  She waved a dismissive hand. “Well, you could do better anyway.” Then she shifted the topic back to herself faster than Madeline could say pox on you.

  “As I was saying, Adam left us alone for a few minutes, and Lord Blackthorne told me how he felt. He said I was the most beautiful creature in the world, and that he wished I were free, and that if I were, he would take me to Government House and make me his viscountess. Imagine—a viscountess!”

  Madeline felt the color drain from her cheeks. “But you barely know each other.”

  Diana sighed dreamily. “Sometimes, you just know.”

  Madeline stood up and paced the room. “I don’t know what to say, Diana.”

  “You don’t have to say anything. Just help me.”

  “You want me to help you? After the way you’ve treated me? After the way you treated Adam fifteen years ago, leading him on only to cast him aside?”

  “Please, that is precisely why I need you—to lessen the blow. You must try to convince Adam that I am all wrong for him. Perhaps you can prepare him. I feel beastly about it, Madeline, honestly I do, for I remember how I shattered his heart all those years ago and ruined his life, and here I am, about to do it again. I am such a cruel, cruel person! Why do marriage proposals keep coming at me like this? From all directions so that I am forced to break hearts?”

  Clearing her throat, Madeline continued to pace. Her anger at her self-centered sister was rising up in her again, and she was beginning to form words and sentences in her mind—nasty, insulting, biting ways to tell Diana the truth: that Adam didn’t want to marry her in the first place! The only reason he hadn’t broken it off with her before was because Madeline had begged him not to!