“It’s beautiful.”
“Yes, it’s a comfortable home that I hope you will enjoy as much as I do,” Ethan said.
Many of the servants were standing outside to greet the young couple. One after another curtsied or bowed, welcoming them and wishing them well.
Ethan led Emily inside and addressed the woman standing in the foyer. “Rigal, would you please show Mrs. Richardson to her rooms? The coach ride has been long, and I’m sure she is tired.”
“Of course, sir.” Rigal curtsied. “Right this way, Ma’am. Would you care for some tea sent up to your rooms as well?”
“Yes, thank you. That would be lovely,” Emily said. She followed the lady’s maid down the long gallery hall, and finally up the grand staircase. Her suite was at the end of the wide hallway. Rigal appeared to be in her thirties and Emily was glad. She knew that she would need the woman’s help as she navigated her way around being the mistress of such a large household.
Rigal opened the door. “Here we are, Mrs. Richardson.”
Emily stepped into her own personal sitting room. It was a beautiful room, decorated in shades of light blue and cream. The fireplace was lit and was throwing off welcoming heat. She walked over to the chaise near the fireplace, untied her bonnet and took off her gloves while looking around, admiring the room. She had to admit Ethan had done a perfect job of capturing her favorite colors. She sat down, overwhelmed by the beauty of the room.
Rigal scooped up her bonnet and gloves. “May I help you change now, Ma’am, before the tea is brought up?”
Emily nodded. “Yes, thank you.” She stood and followed Rigal into the next room. Her bedchamber was even more beautiful than her parlor. Silk draperies of blue and cream hung from all sides of the four-poster bed. The fireplace in this room was also lit. “It’s so beautiful,” she said.
“Indeed it is. Mr. Richardson has spent the past four weeks having it specially prepared for you, Ma’am.”
“It’s so lovely.” She reached out and ran her hands down the fabric. She had never seen such a grand room. It was hard to believe it was all hers.
Rigal helped Emily out of her soft white embroidered wedding dress and stays. She hung it up in the armoire, and pulled out a nightdress. “This is quite beautiful. Did you do the embroidery, Ma’am?”
“Yes, both my mother and I worked on it,” Emily said as she slipped on the linen nightdress.
“Shall I comb out your hair, Ma’am?” Rigal asked.
“No, thank you. I will take care of it a little later.”
“Very good. The tea is in your sitting room. Will there be anything else this evening, Mrs. Richardson?”
Emily shook her head. “That will be all, thank you. Good night, Rigal.”
“Good night, Ma’am.” Rigal turned and walked out of the room.
For the first time all day, Emily was alone. She sat down at the vanity staring into the mirror and began pulling the flowers from her hair. Next came the pins and she undid the braid letting her hair down. Loose curls cascaded down to the middle of her back. She picked up the brush and started to work out the tangles, but her hand was shaking.
She hadn’t had time to think about her wedding night all day, but now her nerves were getting the best of her. She put the brush down and walked back into her parlor. She sat down by the fire and picked up her teacup hoping it would calm her nerves.
What have I done? I’ve married the wrong man. I don’t love Mr. Richardson. It was Mr. Preston who stole my heart. How can I do this tonight?
It was now painfully clear that Mr. Preston had not been smitten her, but it didn’t stop her from remaining baffled by his behavior. How could he lead her on like that? Why would he play her like a fool, whispering compliments to her at every turn? She wished she had asked him about the letters. Then she would have known for sure that he trifled with her and would not fallen in love with him. She had failed to heed Nesmith’s warning.
She had gracefully declined the invitation to his wedding. She wished the happy couple a long and loving marriage. With each word she wrote in her reply, her heart broke into little pieces. It had certainly not healed in the few weeks between his wedding and her own.
Emily’s mind reeled with thoughts about the marriage bed. How could she submit to Mr. Richardson when she felt like this about Mr. Preston? Could she just turn off her emotions? Mr. Richardson was indeed a kind man and considerate man. All she had to do was look around her room to know that he cared for her. She desperately wanted to love him, but she didn’t and wondered if given time, she would grow to love him. Would he know that she thought of another as he kissed her?
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She put her teacup down and stood. “Come in.”
The door opened and Ethan stepped inside. He wore no jacket, and his shirt collar was open. “Good evening, Emily.”
“Mr. Rich… I mean Ethan, good evening.” Emily clasped her hands in front of her to keep them from shaking. “Um… would you like some tea?”
Ethan strode over to her and gently kissed her lips. “Yes, that will nice.” He sat down in the chair opposite the chaise while Emily poured the tea.
“My rooms are quite beautiful,” she said, handing him the cup.
“I’m glad you approve. If there is anything…”
“No, no, they are truly lovely; thank you.” She sat down and picked up her own cup. She took a sip, in the hopes of hiding her nervousness.
“Your father looked well today. I am glad of it.”
“Yes, his strength is nearly fully restored. They will go to the country in the next week or so.”
“The country air will do him a world of good. I know that I enjoy the country more than all the hustle of London.”
Emily nodded. Her stomach clenched and her emotions were threatening to bubble to the top, but she tried hard to clamp them back down. She was married now, and must behave as such. Why was this so hard? It was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. Then, why did she feel so miserable?
Ethan set his cup down on the tray. He stood up, and extended his hand to her. “Would you care to retire, my dear?” he asked.
Emily stood, but could hold her emotions in check any longer. “Ethan, I must tell you something.” She wrung her hands, and began to pace in front of the fireplace. She couldn’t stop the words from tumbling from her lips. “I only married you because it was my father’s wish.”
“What?”
“It was his wish we marry, not mine. I’m sorry, but I do not love you.”
Chapter 13
Ethan’s hand dropped to his side. He stared at her. His eyes flashed with hurt and anger. Her words cut him to the core. She didn’t love him? After all he had done to court her? She didn’t love him.
He took a deep breath before he spoke. “I see, Madam. Rest assured, you will not be disturbed tonight.” He gave her a stiff bow, turned on his heel and strode out of the room.
He stormed down the hall and through the house, bewildered by Emily’s rebuke. He had not expected such a confession on his wedding night. Once inside his private study, he poured himself a stiff drink. He drank it down in one gulp, then poured another. With his glass in hand, he paced his study.
Agitation poured off him in waves. What had he done wrong? He’d written her letters pouring out his love and admiration. Had he not courted her for weeks with the utmost respect before proposing marriage? He had turned her suite of rooms upside down to make sure they were redecorated in her favorite colors. He’d done everything he could think of to make her homecoming perfect and this is what he received for his efforts?
Her rejection stung and he lifted his glass to his lips.
A light knock at the door stopped him in his tracks. “Yes, come in.”
His butler Gileson opened the door and walked into the room. “I’m sorry to disturb you, sir, but an urgent letter has just been delivered for you.”
“Really? Who would be sending me a letter on my weddin
g night?” Ethan asked, as he took the letter from the tray. He broke the seal, and read the contents. He took a deep breath before addressing Gileson.
“Please give orders to saddle my stallion immediately. I must ride to London.”
“Yes, sir. Shall I assist you in dressing?”
“No, I can manage. I will be outside in a moment.”
Gileson bowed and left the study.
Ethan plunked his glass down on the desk. He raced out of the study and up to his bedchamber. He quickly pulled on his jacket, and grabbed his cloak for the chilly ride to London. He also grabbed his money pouch.
“This will have to be enough for now,” he murmured. He flew down the stairs and out the front door. He had to wait mere minutes for his stallion to be brought to him. He jumped on his horse and galloped down the drive.
***
Emily paced around her sitting room. What had she done? She hadn’t meant to say such a hurtful thing to Ethan, but the words had spilled out before she knew what she was saying. It was no excuse though and it pained her to see the hurt in Ethan’s eyes. He did not deserve this treatment especially after everything he’d done to make her homecoming so special.
A horse neighing outside interrupted her thoughts. “Who could be visiting at such a late hour?”
She went to her window, but only saw a figure galloping down the drive and receding into the darkness. She turned away, not giving it another thought. She went into her bedchamber and picked up her wedding reticule. She pulled out the linen handkerchief and a slip of paper fluttered to the floor. She bent down, and picked it up.
My darling Emily,
How wonderful to feel you in my arms
The touch of your sweet lips on mine
I have cherished you from the first moment
Our eyes met
For you are my one and only Bright Star
With love always, Ethan
Emily gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. Oh, no! How could she have been so blind? She stared at the letter. It was Ethan who had written the notes all along. Mia had been right. How could she not have known that?
His shy smiles, his courteous behavior and his concern for her father’s health now loomed large in her mind. What a foolish silly girl she’d been. She had let herself be swept away with whispered compliments and stolen kisses when the man who truly loved her had stood gallantly nearby. She felt humiliated by her earlier behavior and tears leaked from her eyes. She’d needlessly hurt her husband. Oh, why hadn’t she seen his letter earlier?
She clutched the letter to her breast. “Oh Ethan, can you ever forgive me? I have been so blind. It was you I fell in love with all along. Your beautiful words wooed me from the start. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
She had to fix her dreadful mistake and wiped the tears from her cheeks. She rushed to the door, threw it open and raced down the hall in search of her husband.
When she reached his bedchamber, she knocked frantically on the door, but there was no sound from within the room. She knocked again.
No answer.
“Mr. Richardson, please open the door. I must speak with you,” she pleaded.
Still, no answer.
She turned away and tried to think of where he might be. She’d not been in the house long enough to know where all of the rooms were located, but she thought about where her father retreated when he needed to be alone. Perhaps Ethan had a study as well. But where was it? Oh, why hadn’t she asked about the layout of the house before she retired to her own rooms? Perhaps one of the servants was still awake and could direct her. She hurried back down the hall and descended the grand staircase.
Ethan’s butler was passing by and paused. “Mrs. Richardson, do you require something?” he asked.
The sound of the butler’s voice startled her, and she grabbed the banister for support. “Um, yes. I’m looking for Mr. Richardson. Could you please tell him I must speak with him most urgently?”
“I’m sorry, Ma’am, but Mr. Richardson is not here.”
It was a good thing she’d been holding onto the banister because the butler’s words were like a slap in the face. She suddenly felt faint. “What do you mean he’s not here? Where is he?”
Gileson handed her the note. “He has left this for you.”
Emily read the hastily scribbled note.
Madam,
I have gone to London on urgent business.
Ethan
“London? Why has he gone to London?”
“I don’t know, Ma’am.”
A feeling of dread raced up Emily’s spine. The hurt she’d inflicted on Ethan was worse than she initially feared. He’d left her and she had no idea why he was going to London. Was he trying to get as far away from her as possible? “Do you know when he will return?”
“I’m sorry, Ma’am. He did not say. Will there be anything else?”
Emily’s bottom lip began to quiver. She forced herself to maintain her composure in front of the servant. “No, thank you. That will be all.” She turned and went back up the stairs to her bedchamber.
By the time she reached her room, tears were flowing down her face again. She had forced her husband to flee her very presence. What had she done? In her wildest dreams, she never would have thought her wedding night would turn out to be such a disaster. It was all her fault. If only she had kept her feelings in check, none of this would have happened.
She went to her bedchamber and grabbed the small box sitting on her vanity, and climbed into bed. She took the stack of love letters out and untied the white ribbon. She lovingly traced her finger over each one. She knew the truth now and they were precious to her more than ever before. Mia had been right all--man that had written these was indeed in love with her.
She vowed to rectify her mistake and whispered. “Ethan, please come back to me. I’ve been so cruel to you. I didn’t mean to be. I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. You must allow me to make up for my horrible behavior. I will do anything to make things right, but please come home.”
***
The clacking of the horse’s hooves on the road was the only sound in the still night air. The air was crisp and Ethan rode the stallion hard. The letter from Colby had sounded urgent. He didn’t want to think about what his cousin had meant by “dire consequences.” He should have known something was amiss when Colby didn’t attend the wedding breakfast. Did Colby even know it was his wedding day? Mile after mile sped by as he rode toward London. Between Colby’s letter and Emily’s rejection, his mind was racing with all kinds of possibilities, and not one of them was good.
He would have to find a way to deal with Emily’s rejection, but his pain was too raw to think clearly and so he rode on.
The sun was beginning to rise when he finally reached the gambling house he’d found Colby in not long ago. He jumped off the horse in front of the seedy establishment. To his surprise, a young boy scrambled up from the cobblestones.
“Watch your horse, sir?” he asked, his eyes hopeful at this unexpected visitor.
Ethan threw the boy a copper. “Keep an eye on him. I’ll be right back.”
The boy snatched up the coin. “Yes, sir. Don’t worry, he’ll be right here when you come back.”
Ethan nodded and raced into the smoked-filled room. His eyes needed a moment to adjust to the darkened interior. The smell of sweat and stale ale hung in the air. Even at this hour the place was filled with gamblers who either forgot to go home or didn’t have a place to go home to. He ignored them and strode toward the table at the back of the room, where he had paid Colby’s last debt. The same four men sat at the same table.
“I’m looking for Tisbury. Have any of you seen him?”
Cold hard eyes turned toward him. “He’s not here,” said the man dealing the cards.
“Any knowledge of where I might find him?” Ethan asked.
The man stopped dealing. “Not his lucky night.”
“What do you mean, not his lucky night?”
> “Look toward the ridge. Debts are settled in more than one way around here.”
Horror filled Ethan’s mind. A duel. His cousin was going to extremes to settle his losses.
Colby, why couldn’t you have waited? You fool!
He turned on his heel and rushed out to the street. The boy was there as promised. Ethan threw him another coin and jumped on his horse. He pulled the reins hard to the right and galloped down the street heading toward the grassy ridge on the outskirts of town.
He pushed the horse harder. The poor creature was nearing its limit, but Ethan couldn’t slack off now. He had to find his cousin before something dreadful happened that couldn’t be rectified with a few coins. He breathed a sigh of relief when he finally reached the ridge. He looked around, trying to spot his cousin. Voices floating in the air caught his attention. He urged his horse toward them.
In the clearing below stood Colby and another man, each with a second standing off to the side. There was another man standing in the middle.
“Ten paces, gentlemen. Turn and shoot.”
Ethan jumped off the horse and ran toward them. “Stop! Stop the duel,” he screamed into the still morning air. “I’ll pay his debt.”
“Fire.”
The gunfire stopped Ethan short. He stared in horror as Colby wobbled before collapsing, a red spot growing on his white shirt. He ran down the slope rushing to his cousin and fell to the ground next to him. He took Colby’s head in his lap. “Colby, hang on. I’m here now.”
“Ethan, you came,” Colby sputtered.
“Shhh… don’t talk.” Ethan looked up at the men watching the scene. “Give me something to stop the blood flow and go get the surgeon!” No one was moving until he screamed. “What are you waiting for? Go!”
A young man Ethan did not recognize jumped on his horse, and rode off. Ethan hoped he brought the surgeon back in time to save Colby.
Ethan pointed to Colby’s second. “You over there. Grab his jacket, and press it here to help staunch the blood.”
The other man, the one who had fired the shot, stood watching Ethan. “It was a fair shoot.”
Age of Innocence Boxed Set (Books 1-3) Page 10
