I hesitated, uncertain how to answer him. Too soon for what?
Jasper stepped forward and rang a small bell, the sound of it drifting out over the crowd in the courtyard. Guests turned toward the steps where I stood uncertainly between Ian and his mother, with James and Edna off to the side.
Ian pulled my hand tightly against his side. Oddly that gesture made me feel safe and I found myself not wanting to let go of his arm. Despite that his touch and my uncertainty left me weak and trembling. And I had a feeling he knew that and even enjoyed it.
I’d been thrust into this bizarre situation with no preparation, expected to dress and act as these people did. Yet I had no idea what was going on. Ian moved forward, pulling me with him.
“Friends and family,” he began, his voice deep and solemn. “Guests and neighbors. We’re so happy you could be here tonight and I’m sure you’re as anxious as we are for dinner to be served. But first, I have a very important and happy announcement.”
Despite his easy grace and charm, I was overwhelmed with misgivings. What now?
“It is my pleasure to introduce you to Miss Isabella Brady,” he said. “Who has just consented to become my wife.”
A loud gasp went up from the crowd, covering my own. Then came a smattering of applause and the lifting of champagne glasses while I tried to make sense of what I’d heard.
My heart was pounding and I swayed toward him. Ian’s grip on my hand was all that kept me on my feet; I stared at him, speechless, for long moments.
“What?” I muttered, through trembling lips. “What are you saying?”
He turned to look at me, his eyes warm and captivating. Then they turned dark as he frowned down at me.
“Good God,” he murmured, looking at his mother, then back at me. “She didn’t know. You have no idea, do you?”
“Know? Know what?”
Quickly he turned me around, still holding my hand and arm close to his side. “Mother,” he whispered as we passed her. “Have dinner served. I’m taking Isabella into the study. You and I will talk about this later.”
“I’ll come with you,” she said.
“No,” he snapped. “I’ll handle it, as I should have done from the beginning. See to the guests.”
“I— I feel faint,” I murmured as I held onto him and tried to keep pace with his long strides.
“You will not faint,” he said. “We will walk up the stairs as if everything is perfectly normal. We’ll go into the study, you will sit down and have some wine and you will be fine. Good God, I should have known that a girl like you would have no idea how to handle such a situation.”
His remark struck me as a bit condescending. I felt he saw me only as a weak, stupid girl.
“For your information, sir, it’s true I don’t have your education or your wealth. I might be naïve about your kind of life and I admit I’m sometimes too trusting, but I am not stupid. I was misled about this— this so-called marriage. I had no idea that was the reason I was coming here tonight.”
“Then tell me why you thought you were coming?” The concern in his voice should have given me confidence, but it didn’t.
“My mother told me I would have a position in the house— an important position.”
He laughed aloud.
“Poor choice of words on her part. But I suppose I should be flattered that she thought marriage to me was an important position.”
“Don’t you dare mock her,” I cried. “My mother is quite ill. She’s— she’s dying and…” Suddenly it was too much. I felt ignorant and used. I felt sad for Mother. I felt ashamed. I swore to myself I would not cry in front of this man. When I felt tears burning my eyes, I turned and started to leave the room.
He caught me at the door, and pulled me back inside.
“Wait,” he said. “I’m sorry. Perhaps I’ve misjudged the situation. I thought you knew everything. I thought— well, obviously I was mistaken about what I thought. Sit here please, just for a moment. You’re very pale. Have you had anything to eat?”
“I— I don’t remember. I think I was far too anxious to eat.”
He went to the door, opened it and spoke to someone in the hallway. “Bring some wine and a tray of sandwiches,” he said.
Retuning, he sat beside me on the small settee. When I moved away from him, he laughed. “I won’t bite you, Miss Brady. Nor do I intend to try and seduce you. If you will allow me to start from the beginning, perhaps we can figure out where things went wrong.”
I wiped my eyes and waited for his explanation. If it could be explained.
“Your father had something my father wanted. Which brought about the poker game and the wager. Your father owned much of the marshland, and my father wanted it to ensure our privacy. Apparently your father considered the land essentially worthless.”
“Not to me! The marshland means everything to me. It’s my home, where I grew up. I love it and I cannot imagine living anywhere else.”
“I meant as far as monetary value goes. Your father was happy to sell land he didn’t value to a man who wanted it, and he drove a shrewd bargain. He must have cared about you and your future to have insisted that you be a part of the bargain if my father hoped to have the marsh.”
I sat at up stiff and straight. “Are you saying my father is the one who insisted I marry you? And your father agreed?” I found that unbelievable. Incredible. “This is America. We’re hardly European nobility entering into an arranged marriage.”
“America or not, they both agreed to the bargain.” He stood up and walked to the fireplace, leaning against it and gazing at me. “Your father insisted that you marry James or me.”
I could not believe my ears. “My father insisted that I marry you or your brother? Oh I see— you drew straws and you lost.” I didn’t try to contain my sarcasm.
His head came up and his eyes turned cold. “If you knew me better, Miss Brady,” he said, his words slow and deliberate, “you would know that I never lose at anything. James and Edna fell in love and were married. I am the single one, therefore I am the one left to fulfill my father’s commitment.”
“Why have you never married?” I asked.
“I didn’t say I never married, I said I am single. Perhaps I should have said I’m a widower. My wife died in an accident two years ago.”
“Oh, I— I’m sorry.” Tears formed in my eyes again. I felt confused and embarrassed and I didn’t like apologizing for something I hadn’t known about. I hated the entire situation and at the moment I only wanted away from Marshbay. Away from Ian Fitzgerald and his smug gaze. Away from the craziness of it all.
“I don’t understand,” I said. “You and James were both married, so how –“
“You’re right, it is confusing,” he said. “I’ll be perfectly honest with you.” His voice was steady and his gaze direct as he explained. “When your father passed away I don’t think my father ever intended to keep the bargain he made. He viewed it as a friendly card game and both of them were drinking heavily. He could find some other way to get the land he wanted. Perhaps he would have forgotten it. But when Jacob Brady died, my father received a letter from a lawyer reminding him of the bargain he made and signed and pointed out the pact was legal and binding. But as you adeptly recognized, my brother and I were both married at the time so there was nothing to be done.”
“It was later, some months after Marguerite, my wife, died, that father’s health began to deteriorate. He became despondent, and obsessed with putting his affairs in order. Apparently that included obtaining the marshland. He mentioned the bargain to me several times, and I ignored it. But he was relentless when he wanted something, and when he passed away, he left a stipulation in the will that if I was still single, it was his wish that I marry you and acquire the land promised the Fitzgerald family.
He smiled wryly. “I wasn’t at all certain I would agree …until I saw you tonight.”
“Really?” I asked. “You expect me to believe that?”
I stood up so quickly I felt light-headed for a second, but a few deep breaths helped me regain my composure.
“I cannot agree to this arrangement,” I said. “And I never will. Call your attorneys, Mr. Fitzgerald. I’m sure they can extract you from this unpleasant situation you find yourself in.”
He came to attention and took one step toward me. Then he stopped, staring at me with a disbelieving stare. But he made no move to stop me. I ran out the door, down the stairs and out into the night without anyone trying to stop me. I asked for a carriage and one was immediately brought for me.
As we drove back through the marsh toward home, I felt angry and used. I felt ignorant. And sad. But there was nothing I could do to change the ugly thing my father had done. I wanted to believe he did it intending to secure my future, but I knew better. It was likely only more of his controlling behavior. It seemed even from the grave he sought to control my life.
The trip back home was completely different than I’d experienced coming to Marshbay. The excitement and anticipation were gone and I no longer noticed the beauty of my surroundings. How I dreaded telling Mother that I failed to keep my promise to her.
I realized, though, no explanation I gave, no ill treatment I felt I received could explain to her why I had just thrown away the chance to be the bride of a man like Ian Fitzgerald. A member of such a wealthy and prestigious family. I had no idea how I could ever make her understand.
Before I left home that night, Dr. Leavy arrived to see Mother. Now I noticed his carriage was still there. My heart skipped a beat as I hurried into the house.
The doctor met me in the hallway leading to mother’s room.
“Dr. Leavy,” I said. “Is anything wrong? I didn’t expect you would still be here.”
His expression was grave as he stepped forward and took my hand.
“I’m so sorry, Isabella,” he said, “but your mother passed away just moments ago.”
“What do you mean? How could that be— I only spoke to her an hour or so ago. No,” I whispered.
Shocked as I was at his words, I knew why it happened so quickly. My promise to her had given her peace; she knew I’d be in good hands.
I went into her room, tears falling down my cheeks as I saw her lying on the bed so still and beautiful. Her face was peaceful.
“Thank you, Doctor, for all you’ve done,” I managed to say.
“Of course,” he said, bowing slightly. “If you will be all right I will leave you now.”
“Yes,” I answered. “Mrs. Reed will be here with me.”
After he left, I wanted nothing more than to collapse and weep, but there were duties I must take care of. Much as I mourned her death, I was grateful she’d never know of my failure with the Fitzgeralds. I was glad she would not have to worry about how I would survive.
Truth be known, I had no idea myself.
Chapter Two
The funeral was held two days later at our little Episcopal church at the edge of the marsh. The small church was full for my mother’s service since she and Father were well known in our community. But I suspected many people came out of curiosity to see how I was and to learn how I intended to go on alone and unmarried.
I was so sad and confused; I hardly remember shaking hands with everyone in the cemetery. I might be independent, but I would be terribly lonely without Mother.
I thought everyone had gone, but as I stood talking with our priest, I sensed someone beside me and turned to see Ian Fitzgerald and his mother.
She reached for my hand immediately, her face much softer and gentler than I remembered.
“My dear, I’m so sorry for your loss,” she said.
“Thank you.” I had no idea what else to say to her. Had Ian told her how soundly I had refused him and how I stormed out of their house that evening?
I was sure he had.
I looked up into his gray eyes and again I was taken aback by his bold gaze, even on a day like today. He took off his hat and stepped forward, bending slightly, but making no effort to touch me. He seemed genuinely contrite.
“Is there anything else you need, Isabella?” Father Robertson asked. “Some of the ladies of the church will bring supper to your home later. And I will check on you again tomorrow, if that is convenient.”
“Tomorrow will be fine,” I said. “Thank you so much, Father, for the service and all your kindnesses to my mother.”
“She was a good woman,” he said. “She will be missed.”
I nodded and turned, thinking to go to my carriage, and was surprised to find Ian and his mother still waiting.
“I hoped you would allow us to see you home,” Ian said.
“There’s no need,” I replied. “I have my own carriage.” I blushed, thinking of the shabbiness of it. And who knew what they would think of our run-down home. Having them there was the last thing I wanted.
I gathered up the skirts of my worn black silk dress and started walking toward the carriage.
“Miss Brady, wait,” Ian said, walking alongside me. “I’d like to talk to you.”
“Talk?” I asked. “I don’t think we have anything else to say to one another.”
“You’re wrong, we do,” he insisted.
I glanced sidelong at him and saw the muscle in his jaw twitch. It was obvious he was a man used to having his way.
“There is some business we need to discuss….something you probably don’t know and you need to hear it.”
I stopped, looking first at him and then his mother. Her eyes were serious, perhaps even a little apologetic.
Sighing heavily, I began walking again. “All right,” I said. “You may follow my carriage to the house.”
“I know the way,” he said.
“Of course you do,” I muttered beneath my breath. Ian Fitzgerald was probably the kind of man who made it his business to know everything about everyone.
Still, I was extremely curious to know what they wanted to discuss. Whatever it was, they both seemed anxious to talk to me. I had a feeling they would never behave so kindly toward me if they weren’t desperate. Apparently I had something they wanted. I found that idea fascinating and a little exhilarating.
I waited for them at the front door and led them into the parlor, the least threadbare room in the house. I was glad to see a nice fire burning in the fireplace and within moments Mrs. Reed came into the room and placed a tray of tea and a plate of small cakes on the table in front of me.
I sat in a chair near the fire, my black skirts spread about me. Ian and his mother sat across from me on the settee. I took the pins from my black hat, removed it and set it aside.
I looked up to find Ian watching me intently. There was a mixture of curiosity and mystery in his look. The fact that I’d caught him staring at me did not faze him. His lips quirked into a kind of smile, and he continued looking into my eyes.
I had to admit he was attractive and exciting. The kind of man any woman would want. He seemed somehow to know my feelings exactly. What patience I’d tried to muster left me, along with my manners.
“Exactly what is it you want from me?” I asked.
Ian’s gaze narrowed and I felt pleased that I had erased that arrogant smile from his handsome face. Mrs. Fitzgerald seemed taken aback and leaned forward on the settee.
“I’m sorry if we seem callous by coming to you so soon after— ”
“What Mother means is there is some information you need to know before you make plans for your future,” Ian said.
“Really? And what is that?” I took a sip of my tea, trying to appear casual.
“I’m afraid there’s no easy way to put this.” His voice was solemn and he no longer smiled. What more could happen to me?
“I’m not used to easy,” I snappe
d. “Say what you came to say.” I was far from as brash as I sounded. Inside I was terrified.
“One thing we didn’t discuss when you came to the house was this property and what would become of it if your mother passed away.”
“What do you mean?” I set my teacup down and it rattled loudly in the saucer. “The house was left to my mother and now it will belong to me. I don’t see how that concerns the Fitzgerald family at all. Surely the death of my mother negates the wager made between my father and yours.”
“One would assume,” Ian said carefully. He reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out a folded paper. “After your father’s death, your mother was not able to continue making mortgage payments on this house.”
“There was no mortgage,” I said, though I wasn’t at all certain that was true. Knowing my father and his habits I could feel a darkness closing in around me.
“Your mother sent a message to me a few months ago, telling me of her financial hardship and her terminal illness. She wanted only for you to be taken care of after she was gone.”
He stood to hand the papers to me and I was on my feet immediately, confronting him even though he towered above me. I snatched the papers from his hands, silently cursing my trembling fingers for giving away just how frightened I was of what I would read inside.
Mrs. Fitzgerald murmured, “It is not our intention to upset you on this sad day.”
I ignored her, opening the papers and reading the words that were like a knife to my heart. When Mother died I had consoled myself with the fact that at least I had a home. I told myself I would find employment and I would continue to live here in the place where I’d lived all my life. It was the marsh where I always found my greatest comfort. Now it seemed I was not even to have that comfort.
The papers revealed my mother had already given over the house and property to Ian Fitzgerald in compliance with the wager that my father had made. In exchange Ian paid all her debts, loans against the house that I did not know existed. He also gave my mother a large sum of money to make our lives more comfortable. I couldn’t believe she kept all this secret from me.
Storm at Marshbay Page 2
