He had no time to linger on such thoughts when Felice entered.
“You remember my younger daughter from the time we visited the summer home of our mutual friends in Normandy.” Cuthbert nodded toward Felice.
“Indeed. A pleasure to see you again, Miss Stuart.” Rolf took her hand in his and brushed the back of it with his lips. Felice looked more pleased than she should have. He regretted the gallant gesture. He didn’t want to do anything to encourage her. He had seen her look at him in a furtive manner when she thought he wouldn’t notice. He prayed the actions were his imagination or her disposition lent itself to flirtation with many men.
“Oh, how lucky you are!” Dressed in her woolen night shift, Felice sat on the edge of Melodia’s bed after the happy evening had transpired. “Sir Rolf is even more handsome and witty than I remembered.”
“Yes, your enthusiasm for him seems to have grown considerably since I first told you about our betrothal,” Melodia observed. “I could see that you enjoyed his company. One might think you were the bride rather than I.”
“Silly goose! I will not be seeing him—or you—once you leave here. Is it so wrong for me to be friendly to my future brother-in-law? After all, I may be visiting you soon, and he may have many handsome friends who are looking for a wife.”
Melodia shook her head. “That is you, Felice, always looking for an opportunity.” Her voice held more of an edge than she intended. Melodia had felt overshadowed by her vivacious sister all evening; her resentment showed.
“Oh, do forgive me, my dear sister,” Felice begged. “I only wish I were as lucky as you are. You do like him, do you not?”
“I—I cannot tell. I suppose he is as amiable as I can expect. I really cannot pass judgment yet.”
“True. Perhaps Father should have promised him to me since we met in Normandy.” Felice laughed.
“Do you really think so?”
“Well, you are the oldest, and he has promised him to you. So now we shall see what Father has planned for me. He still refuses to reveal anything. I confess to not a small bit of fear.”
Melodia embraced her sister. “You know you are Father’s favorite. Surely he will find a wonderful match for you. You must learn to trust your earthly father as you trust your heavenly Father.”
“Perhaps you should listen to your own sermon,” Felice suggested. “Then you would not be so vexed about your wedding day.”
Melodia knew her sister was right. After Felice left Melodia’s bedchamber, dressed in an air of more excitement than Melodia herself felt, she dropped to her knees beside her bed. She rubbed her hand across the quilt, realizing this would be the last night she would sleep in her own bed, the bed she grew up with from her childhood. After the festivities, she would be leaving for her new home, blessed with a new name.
She recalled the last wedding she had attended. She remembered how the couple kissed after they were proclaimed man and wife. A flush of heat warmed her body as she realized the kiss from her groom would be her first. The kiss would take place among people she had known all her life, and Rolf’s groomsmen who had journeyed to witness their nuptials. The idea of such an intimate moment occurring in front of everyone left her feeling nervous. She almost wished she had convinced Rolf to walk with her on some excuse—to see the garden statuary, perhaps—so she could practice a kiss in private. But she hadn’t, and that was that.
Still, no regret nudged her that Rolf’s kiss would be her first. She longed for no other man and had not been curious during her earlier years. The men of her acquaintance were more like brothers to her than suitors. She would be giving Rolf, this man she didn’t know, but a man chosen for her, the gift of herself.
Father in heaven, I beseech Thee to take away my fears, and to help me be a good wife in spite of my doubts, since judging by my new situation, Thou hast called me to family life. I thank Thee that Rolf seems to be kind, and that he is not disappointing to look at—handsome, even. I pray that he is a godly man, and that we can make a life together that will be pleasing to Thee.
She rose and climbed into the bed of her maidenhood for the last time.
Chapter 3
Three weeks after they had exchanged vows, Melodia was thoroughly ensconced in her new home on the other side of England and adjusting to an extent that she shocked even herself by how well she took to being a new wife. She had been surprised to discover how well the household was run. Before her arrival, Rolf had lived alone at the estate since his sister, Martha, had long married and moved to Dover, leaving no related woman available to offer him assistance.
Martha had been confined with a delicate condition at the time of the wedding so they had not met, but at the soiree Melodia and Rolf hosted early on to meet the neighbors, she heard nothing but good reports about his sister. She looked forward to the trip Rolf had promised they would take to London after Martha’s child was born. Melodia wondered how long the Lord would tarry in granting her a child. A blush of happiness filled her at the thought.
At the moment she sat in the library, rocking in a comfortable chair situated near the fire that warded off early spring’s chill. No matter how urgent household duties seemed, she never neglected to indulge in her quiet time each morning. Since her marriage, she had been drawn more than usual to the Song of Solomon. So many of the passages reflected her developing feelings of love for Rolf. She had been warned by more than one experienced matron not to assume love would follow the wedding, but already it had for her, and she could see by Rolf’s tenderness that he had developed fondness for her as well. For that, she was grateful.
Most of Melodia’s friends had already begun corresponding with her, and Felice’s daily missives had kept her up-to-date with news of home. So far, Father hadn’t made any announcements about his plans for her. Melodia knew Father felt less insecure about Felice’s chances of making a good match than he had felt toward hers. Felice, with her coy wit and appearance of a classic beauty, had many potential suitors. She didn’t hesitate to report her current prospects to Melodia, and though any of the men she mentioned would have made a fine husband, Felice always seemed to be waiting for someone better. Melodia prayed Felice would find that elusive man.
Rolf’s voice cut into her thoughts. “You appear so peaceful, I am loath to interrupt.”
Melodia looked up from her Bible. “Even if you interrupted me a thousand times, I know this passage well enough to recite it by heart, so it matters not. You have something to tell me?”
He drew closer to her. “Yes. I will be spending the next few nights at the Howard estate.”
She tried not to pout. “Oh. A hunting party?”
“Yes. I wish you were included, but as you know, Henry is a bachelor and never considers offering diversion for the ladies.”
“Then I suspect he shall evermore remain a bachelor.”
Rolf chuckled. “And I suspect that prospect is not entirely displeasing to him.”
Melodia bit her lip to keep from complaining. If only he were present more. First, business affairs kept him occupied. As for leisure, hunting, fishing, and gatherings with his gentlemen friends seemed to hold more allure than her charms. She supposed Rolf’s behavior was normal for a man of his station; after all, how could she expect him to forego the pursuits he enjoyed just because he had placed a wedding ring on her finger?
“You do not mind terribly, do you?” he asked.
What could she say? She felt she had no right to object. “I want what makes you happy, Rolf.”
He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “You have thus far proven to be the perfect wife.”
As he turned to exit, she didn’t let him see her wry expression. Perhaps she should consider being less “perfect,” as he called her, and more outspoken about her feelings. In the meantime, she resolved not to feel sorry for herself.
But she did.
The next day, a maid interrupted Melodia at the end of her midafternoon toilette and presented her with a calling car
d the hue of cream and fashioned from thick paper. “Lady Eustacia Cunningham to see you, Miss Melodia.”
Standing next to her vanity, Melodia ran her fingers over the imprinted letters on the card. She had met Eustacia at the soiree, but their time together had been too brief for her to learn much about her. Melodia really was in no mood to receive a visitor, but since she couldn’t honestly claim to be indisposed, decorum demanded that she accept Eustacia’s call.
She glanced at the mantel clock and saw that teatime had arrived. “Bring tea into the drawing room,” Melodia instructed in a voice that, to her surprise, betrayed no anxiety. “I shall meet her there.”
“Yes, milady.” The maid curtsied.
Melodia glanced at her reflection in the mirror. She hadn’t designated that particular day as one when she would be receiving visitors, so she was pleased when she noted that her appearance was presentable enough. Rachel had curled her hair, and though the ringlets weren’t as tight as they had been at breakfast, they hung around her face in an attractive manner. The white bandeau she wore in her hair contrasted well with her curls and brought out the natural blush in her cheeks. Her white dress, though an everyday frock, was one of her better and more flattering outfits. She took in a breath and prepared to face her visitor.
As she walked down the large front hallway flanked by oil portraits of Tims ancestors on either side along with occasional tables that displayed ceramic vases, she knew she never need worry herself about the appearance of the Tims estate. She discovered soon after her arrival that the staff was plentiful, efficient, and reliable. The housekeeper and butler who headed the rest of the servants proved competent if not always warm. As long as they held their positions, no dust would be allowed to linger on the furniture.
When he first showed her the estate, Rolf had told her that his sister, Martha, had decorated the home within the past three years during her period of engagement. The fashions and fabrics still looked fresh, and Melodia estimated that they would continue to look well for several more years.
A little smile quickened her lips when she recalled how Rolf asked if the décor was to her taste. She assured him in truth that as long as she felt comfortable and the colors weren’t too garish, she could make do in any room. Still, she was glad he had considered her feelings enough to inquire.
Striding over the threshold of the drawing room off to the right of the center hall, she eyed an attractive woman resting on the sofa upholstered in a brocaded fabric the color of clotted cream. Dressed in deep green as she was, with hair a lighter blond than Melodia had ever seen on anyone else over the age of four, the wispy woman cut a striking figure. Had Melodia not been married, no doubt a pang of jealousy would have visited her.
They exchanged greetings. “I was just about to take tea. Will you join me?”
Eustacia tilted her chin toward the tea table and inspected the refreshments, which to Melodia’s eyes looked especially delectable that day. “I always have time for tea at the Tims estate. I was great friends with Rolf’s sister, Martha, you know.”
Melodia took a seat across from her visitor. “Yes, I do believe you mentioned that when we met at the soiree.” Which was why Melodia had made a special effort to accept Eustacia’s unannounced call and to make sure tea was served. She picked up the teapot and began to pour.
Eustacia inspected her but with kind eyes. “I see you are just as beautiful when caught off guard as you are when ready for an occasion.”
Melodia nearly spilled a stream of tea on the table but managed to lift the pot upright in time to avoid a mishap. “Beautiful?” The word escaped her lips unbidden.
Eustacia cocked her head. “Do you mean to say that you are not accustomed to such compliments?”
“Well, no, in fact.” She set the pot down for good measure.
“And modest, too. No wonder Rolf likes you.”
Melodia considered that Eustacia displayed not a small bit of effrontery to try to catch her unawares and to admit it at that. “Thank you,” she managed.
Eustacia took a sip of her beverage and swallowed. “Your cook stocks excellent tea. See to it that she continues.”
“ ’therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on.’ ” She hadn’t meant to blurt the verse from Matthew. She clapped her mouth shut. Then she saw Eustacia’s quizzical look. “ ‘Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?’ ”
“Are you quoting scripture to me?”
She stared at her half-filled cup of black tea. “I—I beg your pardon. Force of habit, I suppose.”
“Not a very good habit unless you plan to live in the church. Few people enjoy a sermon unless it is from the vicar. And often, not even then.”
“I beg your pardon.” Melodia stiffened. This was not going well.
Eustacia took a small fruit tart. “So how do you like it out here in the country?”
“I grew up in the country myself, so I am accustomed to it. This estate is pleasant.”
“Pleasant? Is that the best word you can find to describe where you live?” Eustacia looked about the room. “That is not how the other nearby women would describe such a grand place.”
Jealousy tweaked her heart. What other women had caught Rolf’s eye while he was still unattached? She decided not to stray into such territory. “I like it very much.”
“Good.” She eyed a portrait of Rolf. “No doubt you will be putting your own touches on the décor soon.”
“I think I shall keep it as it is.”
Eustacia’s eyebrows shot up. “Indeed? Well, Martha will be delighted to learn that. She put quite a bit of effort into furnishing this estate in a proper manner.”
“Her taste is exquisite, and I am grateful to be the beneficiary of her knowledge of colors and fabrics.”
Eustacia smiled as though she meant it. At that moment, Melodia could see that Eustacia had decided they could be friends. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks to the Lord. Melodia had a feeling she would need all the friends she could cultivate.
Chapter 4
A few days later, Rolf hovered by the door of the library and watched his new bride absorb the wisdom of scripture. Since her arrival at his estate, he had been encouraged by her example to increase his own reading of the Word.
Since Melodia didn’t lift her head, he knew she hadn’t heard his footfalls hitting the thick wool runner on the hall floor. He was glad, since her intense concentration gave him the opportunity to drink in her beauty.
Earlier reservations about his new bride had vanished. She had more than lived up to the exquisite image in her portrait. Her form looked pleasing—neither too wide nor too wispy. Her voice didn’t grate on his ears. She stood erect and walked with grace. Had Melodia not debuted only this past season, Rolf imagined she would have been wooed and taken by an attentive suitor long before he met her. He had wondered why Cuthbert had seemed so eager to make a match for her and why he had wanted to rush the wedding after their initial meeting, an arrangement Rolf agreed to only because of Melodia’s devout reputation and his father’s poor health.
Rolf’s first impressions of Melodia did nothing to answer his questions about Cuthbert’s odd though unexpressed fears that his daughter was in some way unmarriageable despite her attractiveness and large dowry. Only after Melodia and Rolf had been wed a few weeks did she hint about her father’s resentment of her that was nursed by how he blamed her at least in part for her mother’s death. Rolf suspected that Cuthbert’s contained rage closed his eyes to Melodia’s true assets. No wonder she had given more than a passing thought to running away to a secluded life dedicated to God’s purpose. Still, as she shared these family secrets, obviously not wanting to show her father disrespect, nothing in Melodia’s expression or voice asked for Rolf’s pity. If anything, he had a feeling she would rebuff any attempts to make her take on the role of victim.
He admired her strength and
was grateful to his father’s lucidity in the midst of his own struggle for health that he had suggested a match with Melodia instead of waiting for her younger, coquettish sister. Indeed, Rolf had enjoyed the freedom of bachelorhood, and he had met few women intriguing enough to spur him to more than an idle thought of altering his situation. But as he watched Father grow increasingly ill—his coughing fits growing closer and closer together despite treatment—Rolf felt his obligation as a son weighing too heavily upon his mind to ignore.
During one of his trips to London to see his ailing father, situated in a small apartment where he could be near his doctors and druggists, Rolf broached the subject of marriage. Father’s ready response indicated he had contemplated the possibilities. His strong voice demonstrated his joy that Rolf had asked. Melodia Stuart’s name fell from his lips, followed by a smile. The answer didn’t come as a surprise to Rolf since Father and Cuthbert had been boyhood friends.
Encouraged by Father’s response to his query, Rolf took quick action by approaching Cuthbert the following week when they were guests at the same dinner party. After his future father-in-law’s acquiescence, Rolf took the news to London. To his delight, Father’s face took on a glow for the first time he could remember in months, perhaps even in a year. The look of happiness and, Rolf had to admit, approval told him that the match was well timed and taken in wisdom.
Honour thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee.
Not for a moment did Rolf regret taking this commandment to heart.
Another verse from the second chapter of Genesis came to mind: Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh.
His wife. Enough of spying on her, however lovingly.
He cupped his hand over his lips and let out a warning cough.
Melodia heard Rolf clear his throat. She stopped reading in midverse.
British Brides Collection Page 9
