The Unwilling Bride

by Candy-Ann Little

  Dillon and Caitlin stood there for several moments. The sound of horses whining, over the howling of the wind brought Caitlin back to her senses. Mustering enough courage she pulled away from the embrace, shivering as the cold air replaced the warmth of Dillon’s body. “Thank you for your assistance.”

  “’Tis why I’m here, madam.” He bowed low. “We should be moving on. I will go find Lucy and the rest of the crew.” Dillon left Caitlin to attend to her needs while he searched the woods.

  After everyone was assembled and the carriages were on their way again, Dillon entertain the women with stories about his childhood. It seemed in no time at all they arrived at the Inn.

  They had lodged in a large town the night before. The big, roomy Inn had been stately and pristine. This little, ragged place wasn’t any bigger than a medium size house, and it was set in the middle of no man’s land. Chickens, pigs, and goats ran loose around the yard.

  “I know ‘tis not much,” Dillon whispered, “but it is the only place for another five miles.”

  “’Tis fine.” Caitlin smiled, and mounted the wooden steps, stepping over a sleeping dog on the porch.

  “Velcome. Velcome.” The short, slender hostess opened the door, and shook both Dillon and Caitlin’s hand enthusiastically. “It’s goot to have company.” Her Dutch accent and deep tone seemed out of place for someone so small.

  She ushered the group into a small, dingy room with a large wooden table. The fire in the hearth roared as the smells of supper filled the house. “Vould you like to settle in the rooms bevore supper?”

  “No, thank you. I’ll give you a hand,” Caitlin offered.

  “No. No. You are guests.” The small woman waved her comment away.

  “I’ll help the boys put the horses away.” Dillon left.

  Despite the protests, Caitlin helped set the table. When the men came back in the meal was ready. Everyone sat down and Dillon asked the blessing. “Our Father who art in Heaven. Hollowed be thy name. We thank you for the safety so far on this trip and pray for continued well being. We also thank you for the provisions of lodging and food. Amen.”

  Everyone’s spirits seem to lighten as dishes of roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, biscuits, nuts, and dried fruit were passed around. The conversation and storytelling continued long after supper ended. Everyone enjoyed the fun filled atmosphere as they sat around the hearth.

  Finally calling it a day, Dillon led Caitlin up the rickety stairs. “I am sorry I could not acquire separate rooms, space is limited. They only have two bedrooms.” Dillon opened the door and Caitlin stepped into the small, simple room. “However, I did manage separate beds.”

  Except for the two beds on opposite walls, one dresser, a beaten up wash stand, and a thin, torn rug on the floor the room was bare. “And I thought your place was stark.” Caitlin smiled wistfully.

  “I know it’s not much. ‘Tis only one night we must stay here.”

  “Is Mrs. White bunking with Lucy?”

  “Aye. They’re in the other bedroom. The men are on the floor in the living room.”

  “I still do not understand why you brought Mrs. White along. I do not need two personal maids.”

  “Mrs. White is here for Lucy. I fear she is too young to be unattended.”

  “Am I not capable of being her chaperon?” The defensive tone warned of a storm brewing.

  “My dear, you are more than capable. But I did not want you to be saddled with all the responsibilities. Besides, Mrs. White begged me to come.”

  “Are you not in control of your servants? They run over you like a pack of wild horses.”

  Dillon smiled at the playful pitch of her words. “If she is looking after Lucy, we shall have more time alone.”

  “You have managed that quite magnificently. I am now cornered in this room all alone with you.”

  “You are not cornered, my pet.” Dillon hung his overcoat on a peg in the wall. “You are sleeping across the room.”

  “Is a mouse safe from a snake when it’s across the room?”

  His effortless laughter echoed off the bare walls. “You needn’t worry about me, my dear. This snake is full.”

  “Been sampling on some other helpless victim, have you?”

  “I would hardly call you helpless,” Dillon quipped. “You could slay a man with that sharp whit of yours. Not to mention your tongue.”

  “You like my wit?” Caitlin was so taken aback that she ignored the tongue remark.

  “Your brilliant mind is one of the things I love most about you.”

  Caitlin definitely liked the path of the conversation and wanted to pursue it further, but a knock on the door interrupted.

  “I just vanted to check and make sure everything vas okay.” Their hostess stood with hands clasped in front of her dirty, and blood stained apron.

  “Everything is fine.” Caitlin’s gracious smile lit up the room.

  “Goot. Goot. I also vanted to say that I prepared hot vater for a bath, if you’d like one.”

  A quick surveillance of the tiny woman told Caitlin that she wasn’t fond of bathing. And, the condition of the house didn’t leave much hope for a clean wash room, or tub. However, she didn’t want to hurt the woman’s feelings when she’d obviously gone through so much trouble. “A bath would be wonderful.”

  “My husband is getting the vater now. You may come down as soon as you’d like.”

  “Thank you. I’ll just gather my things and be right there.”

  With a quick curtsey she was gone.

  The room was pretty much what Caitlin expected. Small, dingy, and a little drafty. Although the brass tub was old and worn, it was clean.

  Caitlin soaked in the water luxuriating in the warmth, as it soothed her aching muscles. It might not have been the prettiest bathroom she’d been in, and she didn’t have any of the scented soaps and oils like at home, but this bath was the best she’d ever taken. She had never needed one as bad as today. Not only to wash away the dust and grim from the trip, but she appreciated the time alone.

  Not having a minute to herself since the trip left no time for thinking. She wondered how Mr. Barclay was coming along with the house. The work was progressing nicely. Mr. Barclay had lost his contempt and listened to her suggestions and ideas, as long as she consulted with Dillon first.

  That irked her for a while, but soon she found it wasn’t so difficult to ask his permission, especially when he granted her every desire. Dillon’s enthusiasm made it easy to try and please him. Every now and then she would catch him watching, his eyes held so much admiration. It sometimes caused her to blush, something she’d never been prone to do.

  Truth be told, she’d kept herself so busy that thinking was next to impossible. She didn’t want to think. Not about her marriage. Not about Dillon. And most certainly not about the feelings he produced whenever he was near. It seemed hard to believe that in the last week, since Dillon acknowledged that he wanted to woo her, they had only had one fight. Of course, Henrietta was the center of that argument.

  Dillon swore that nothing was going on with her. She wanted to believe him, and he’d never given her cause to distrust him. However, she’d heard bits and pieces of gossip around town. For some reason everyone thought Dillon had planned to marry Henrietta. And, that Caitlin had swooped in, scooping him up and carrying him away like a hawk stealing a chicken. What she didn’t understand is why the town folk would be saying that if it weren’t true.

  She wasn’t dense enough to think that Dillon hadn’t had relationships before her. After all, he was a very handsome man. That, coupled with his easy going personality, and generous spirit was enough to draw any woman to his side. She’d often wondered why he wasn’t already married. His admission that he hadn’t wanted to be tied down, did not mean he hadn’t had companionship. If he had been interested in Henrietta, why didn’t he marry her?

  Even though he’d married Caitlin he could still continue a relationship with Henrietta. After all
, they had both agreed to a name only marriage. Dillon had been more than eager to suggest it. Caitlin had assumed he’d had another woman on the side all along. So, why did he come to her now wanting a courtship? And worst of all make her love him?

  No, she couldn’t be that careless and give her heart to a man who would only toss it away when the next little trollop passed by. Although Dillon seemed to be a true gentleman and wouldn’t do that sort of thing, she just didn’t know him well enough yet. She had to keep the wall up. Not wanting to lose her identity was taking second place to not wanting a broken heart.

  The water grew cold and Caitlin slipped out of the tub. She wrapped a linen towel around her head, then patted the drops of water from her body as quick as she could. Donning her nightgown and robe she hurried up the stairs, wincing as each step creaked.

  Lucy met her in the hall. “I heard you coming.”

  “I believe the whole house heard me. I tried walking softly, but the steps are so old.”

  “Do you want me to assist with your nightly toiletry?”

  “No. You go back to bed. I can handle it.”

  “As you wish, Mrs Cade.” Lucy dipped into a quick curtsey and hurried into her room.

  “Mrs. Cade.” Caitlin muttered as she continued down the hall. “I see Mrs. White has been talking to her.”

  Entering her room she found Dillon putting more logs on the fire. The heat from the hearth sent a shiver through her cold body, making her teeth chatter.

  “There you are. I was just about to send Lucy to fetch you. I feared you hit your head and drowned in the tub.” Dillon took her hand. “You are freezing. Come sit by the fire.”

  “S..Sor..ry I t..took so long.” She sat in the chair offered.

  “Did you enjoy your bath?”

  “Y..yes.”

  “Good. Now sit here and warm up. This place is old and drafty.”

  As she sat there warming up, Dillon took the towel from her head. “What are you doing?”

  “Your hair will dry faster if it’s down.” Walking over to the chest he started digging through it. “Where is your hair brush?”

  “’Tis in there somewhere.”

  After finding it, he came back and started brushing through the tangled mess. Gently he applied stroke after stroke until the knots came undone.

  “You have a gentle touch,” Caitlin whispered. “Lucy isn’t even that good.”

  “I aim to serve.” He winked. “Now lean forward and bend your head down.”

  Caitlin did as commanded, and he continued to brush the long tresses, getting the tangles out from underneath the thick mass of hair.

  “That feels so good,” she murmured.

  “Then sit back and I shall show you something else.”

  Tossing her head up sent her hair flying through the air like flames. Skeptical green eyes watched him, while questionable red brows arched.

  “’Tis not what you’re thinking.” Dillon laughed. “Just sit back and relax.” Coaxing her back, he gently slipped his fingers into her hair, messaging her head.

  Caitlin tried to keep silent, but the “ohh’s and mmm’s” keep slipping out. “That feels wonderful.”

  “Do you want me to do your shoulders also? It will loosen the muscles.”

  “Sure. Why not?” She’d never felt so pampered. Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the high back chair and let Dillon work his magic.

  “Do you have a gown on under this robe?”

  “Of course.” Sitting up she pinned him with a stare. “Why do you ask?”

  “I could do a better job on your shoulders without the bulky robe.”

  “Ohh.” She felt a little awkward.

  “’Tis up to you.” He went back to rubbing her shoulders.

  Caitlin had to trust him at some point. He was only trying to make her comfortable. Besides, she had her thickest gown on, so he wouldn’t be able to see anything. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to take the robe off. I cannot sleep in the thing.” Standing up she slipped the robe off and tossed in across room. It sailed through the air and landed on her bed.

  “Nice throw,” Dillon commented.

  “I used to play rounders with my brothers.” She sat back down. “I was pretty good at marbles also.”

  “I bet.” The image of her running around bases and throwing balls at boys didn’t surprise him. Dillon continued his massage.

  “You are great with your hands,” she moaned.

  “It must come from working with the press all day.”

  “You are not this gentle with the press. If you were maybe it would not break so often.”

  “Perhaps I’d be more gentle if it were as beautiful and warm as you.”

  “Too bad your sweet talking could not fix the thing,” Caitlin teased. “I am surprised you have not talked the press into printing out the paper all by itself.”

  “Too bad that was not possible. Then I could spend more time at home with you.”

  “Like you would be happy sitting around with nothing to do.”

  “If you are there I’d have something to do,” he whispered in her ear.

  The light wisp of his breath shivered down her neck, while his hands still kneaded her shoulders. Fighting hard to control her mind she responded in barely a whisper of her own. “What would we do all day besides fight?”

  “Oh, I could think of a few things.” Sliding his hands over the rounded part of her shoulders he moved them down her arms.

  Caitlin felt the warmth of his hands through the cotton fabric of her gown. The sensations surging through her body reminded her of the few times they’d kissed. For some reason the urge to feel his lips on hers intensified. When his mouth pressed against the delicate skin on her neck, she physically choked back a moan. Closing her eyes she leaned back, enjoying the feelings his hands and lips produced. She felt her body melting like wax on a hot summer’s day.

  When his hands grew bolder and his tongue slid across her skin, she suddenly jumped from the bolt of shock. She was out of the chair in seconds, shaking her head as if to clear away the muddle that engulfed her brain.

  Looking at Dillon she saw the conflicting emotions cross his face. He too, seemed unable to speak, as if he were trying to gather his scattered wits. She watched the desire slowly being replaced with guilt, and knew that an apology was coming.

  She held up a hand to stop it before he even uttered a word. “Do not apologize, Dillon.” Her voice was soft and shaky. “’Twas just as much my fault.”

  Dillon’s dark brows rose in surprise. “’Twas not your fault, Caitlin. You must believe that I never intended this.”

  “I do believe you.”

  “Really?”

  She watched the firelight dance across his furrowed brow, and almost laughed as the innocent, panicked look, changed to amazement. “Really. You have been nothing but a gentleman on this entire trip. I think we both got caught up in our emotions, that’s all.” Before he could explain or apologize any further, she went to her bed and threw back the tread bare covers. “I suggest we get some sleep. We still have a long trip ahead of us.”

  “Aye, that we do.” Dillon stoked the fire for the night without a word. She’d brought the conversation to an end more efficiently than Martha running the kitchen. Thomas Jefferson should think about hiring her for his campaign manager, Dillon mused.

  * * *

  Excitement pulsated through Caitlin as she craned her neck out the carriage window, watching the house looming in the distance become larger and larger. The long dirt lane led them up the rolling slope of Virginia’s picturesque mountain, where upon Monticello sat.

  “’Tis absolutely breathtaking,” Caitlin breathed in awe.

  Dillon only smiled as he watched the afternoon sun illuminate the child-like wonder in her green eyes.

  There was nothing to say for the stately, Roman neoclassic house spoke eloquently enough for itself. The red brick of the building was sharply contrasted by the white columns holding up the lar
ge gabled roof of the portico. The white railing running along the second and third stories of the house looked as if they were caging in the four chimneys protruding from the roof.

  As if the house wasn’t beautiful enough, the scenic views surrounding the structure seemed to scream tranquility. The lush greens of the lawn and unnumbered trees looked unusually out of place for this late in November.

  As the caravan neared the house, Caitlin’s excitement suddenly switched to fear. Turning worried eyes upon her husband she nervously bit her bottom lip.

  “What is the matter?”

  “I just realized that I do not know what to say or how to act.”

  His soft laughter seemed to ease her soul more than the gentle words he spoke. “Do not be so anxious, dear. Mr. Jefferson is only a person. Besides, you have been raised in the customs and manners, have you not?”

  “I have. But I’ve never had the chance to use them around such influential people. The man is Vice President, for goodness sake. He wrote the Declaration of Independence. And, is the future candidate for President. There you sit acting like he is any normal man.”

  The carriage stopped and panic spread to every fiber of her being. In just a few moments she’d be inside the famous Monticello. She’d have to speak to Mr. Jefferson. Or, was it forbidden for women to talk without the permission? Do I curtsey first, or thank him for inviting us? Oh! I wished I’d paid more attention to my studies. She’d been more interested in arguing over why women had to behave like obedient dogs, than actually learning how to act. Now, she feared looking like a fool. Would Dillon be angry if she embarrassed him?