In order to explain my difficulty, it is necessary to recount a story about Edward from his youth. The summer he was fifteen, on a particularly hot afternoon in July, his tutor lost patience with the brothers’ continual inattention. As punishment, he instructed them to write an additional essay about the virtues of the Corn Laws before dismissal. Henry scrawled out an essay, repeating his teacher’s views, and hurried outdoors. But Edward outright refused on the grounds he didn’t agree there were virtues to be found in the laws.
His stubbornness incensed his tutor, who first beat the back of Edward’s hand with a ruler until scarlet welts swelled over its surface. Then he threatened that Edward would not leave the schoolroom until the assignment was complete. Edward spent the night in the dark, sitting at his desk, refusing to write.
When I learned of the incident, I was incensed. Any fool could see that external pressure would never work with Edward. Either one changed his mind, or one changed the context. Had the tutor simply rephrased the assignment—say, asked for an essay on what the gentry considered the virtues of the Corn Laws—Edward would have turned it in within an hour.
Thus, as we strolled through Mr. Macy’s garden, I endeavored to disappoint Edward in a manner he would accept. Only what could I say? I was forbidden to speak of my guardian and Mama’s murder, although letting Edward learn that I was in danger would not help me to attain my goal. I couldn’t live with myself if I allowed Edward to believe another man had replaced him in my affections.
Eventually, I came to the conclusion that I needed to utilize our most poignant difference—God.
While I mulled on how to approach the topic, Edward dug his hands deep into his pockets, then stated, “You’re not going to like what I have to say. But will you at least promise to hear my plan and give it a full day’s thought before rejecting it?”
“Depends,” I answered.
“On what?”
Like a wrestler assuming his position before a fight, I fixed my gaze on the horizon. “It depends upon whether your plan involves church or God. If it does, I can tell you right now, I reject it.”
“And if I want to discuss it anyway?” His tone darkened.
“Then our walk is over. And so are we.”
Edward caught my arm, stopping me. “Every time God is mentioned, you take flight. Well, you’re going to finish at least one of these conversations. And it’s this one.”
I tried to twist from his grip. “What? You’re going to force me!”
“Yes. I’ve waited two days to say this, and you’re going to listen.”
“No, I won’t! Because no matter what you say, it won’t change my mind.”
“What are you so frightened of, Julia? If your beliefs are as well-founded as you pretend, then why do you fear this discussion? Are you afraid I’ll prove my point? Are you afraid to discover that maybe your father didn’t know everything?”
I felt my chin jut as I stared up at him, breathing heavily. He knew, he knew I hated it when people treated my beliefs and my father’s as one. Our fight began in earnest.
Edward lifted an eyebrow, as if sensing my change.
“No.” I ground out each word, wrangling to be free. “Because even if your God is real, then he’s earned my disobedience. Hear me, Edward. I will never follow him!”
Edward’s face twisted in disbelief.
“So prove him if you can!” I yanked my arm as hard as I could. “But mark my words, even if you do, it makes no difference.”
“But that’s not fair, Julia. You’re not even considering me!”
“Fair?” I yelled, not caring who heard us. “You want fair? Well, guess what? So do I! But I’m never going to have it! You haven’t an inkling of what I’ve endured! And I won’t meet the demands of a God who idly watched it happen. How dare you argue fairness with me! Were you considering me when you took your vows?”
His jaw tight, Edward shifted his gaze from me, drawing deep breaths as if willing himself to remain calm.
This rankled me further. In the past, he would have argued back without censoring himself. Unable to wrench my hand free, I stomped on his foot in a childish display of temper. Shocked, Edward finally released me. Picking up my skirts, I marched as fast as my legs could carry me.
Edward was immediately at my side, gravel crunching beneath his boots. “You’re going to hear me out.”
In response, I picked up my skirts and hied faster toward Eastbourne.
By the time I reached the pathways near the estate, I couldn’t breathe. Nancy had done her job too well. My stays were so tight, I could scarcely gasp for air. I placed a hand on my side, where a cramp had started.
Edward, who’d kept pace, took my elbow and directed me to a bench, tangled amidst ivy. “Sit.”
Unable to do anything else, I obeyed, narrowing my eyes.
“It’s not my fault you’ve matured and graduated to stays,” he said, reading my silent accusation. He removed his handkerchief and handed it to me. “What are we doing?” Edward asked quietly.
I bunched the handkerchief beneath my nose. “There’s just so much that you don’t know. So much I can’t tell you.”
“Then listen, for a change.” Edward crouched and sat on the heels of his boots. “Last year, Father gave Henry some land as an early inheritance. There’s an abandoned house on it, which Henry gave to me after you arrived at Am Meer.” His cheeks reddened. “It isn’t much, Julia. You know my prospects are not what they once were when my ambition was law. Nonetheless, I know I am doing what God called me to do. I know I’ve made the right choices.”
“You should have discussed with me or at least made me aware.”
“How, Juls? How?”
I scowled, wanting to argue but knowing there was nothing to say. Because it was improper for Edward to write me, Elizabeth had always been our only possible contact.
“I don’t blame you for disliking that I’ve become a vicar. But don’t, in your anger, chain yourself to the likes of Lady Foxmore. She is a wandering star and will lead you to ruin. Have I ever steered you wrong? Have I ever placed care of myself above care of you?”
Edward paused, as if to give me space to consider it. My throat thickened, for to memory, he never had.
“Here’s what I propose. Allow me to fix up Henry’s house. Stay in my parish. Remain with those of us who love you. I know that you’ll flourish given time with Henry, Elizabeth, and me every day. My parish is filled with good people. They’ll accept you. Yes, I have to insist you attend church. But it will be me who is your vicar—not that man. Not the man who did that to your family. One year. That’s all I’m asking. If at the end of that year, you want to continue, then fine; nothing will change. I have always been willing to wait for you. If you want to leave, then I’ll do my best to help you find a good situation.” His hands tightened over mine. “If you find that you can join the church and we can marry, and you still want me, then we’ll wed.”
Doubtlessly I looked as though my soul were made of stone, for I simply stared, betraying no emotion. But within, it felt as if my heart had stopped. Of course Edward had found a solution, given the little knowledge of my situation that he had. I easily envisioned his plan—the carefree days he wanted to gift me with. I pictured an entire year in his parish. Attending harvest parties, dinners, and balls. Helping Elizabeth and Mrs. Windham can their goods for winter. Lazy winter afternoons, knitting before the fire while Henry read aloud. Long, rambling walks with Edward in the countryside, talking over his sermons. Strawberry picnics in white gowns, playing croquet over Am Meer’s lawn.
The images became so real, I grew heartsick. All at once, I knew I couldn’t do this to him. I wouldn’t do this to him. If he was still fighting for me, I would fight for him too.
My hands felt clammy as I met his gaze and whispered, “There isn’t time.”
Edward’s eyes sharpened.
I wanted to say that there wasn’t hope for us unless he ran away with me, right then. But even th
ose words died on my tongue. Edward’s posture warned me of that impossibility. In order to act, Edward needed to understand the context. And that I was sworn to keep secret. But I was not under oath to keep prior knowledge from Edward.
“I’m scheduled to leave for Scotland,” I said quietly.
He joined me on the bench, his brow furrowed.
I proceeded to tell him about my guardian and the strange requirements he placed on me, and that ultimately I’d been ordered to Scotland.
“I’m not going,” I told him. “Hear me. I will do whatever it takes, even marrying her ladyship’s choice for me.”
Edward’s expression upon hearing those words is hard to describe. He half closed his eyes and stared blankly at the ground. “Well,” he said, “that certainly changes the plan a bit, doesn’t it?”
“What plan, Edward? We have no plan.”
“It’s only three years until you attain the status of femme sole,” he said, plowing forward. “One of my father’s cousins lives in Scotland. Surely I could visit him at least once during that time.”
I shook my head, feeling as though my life were an aberrant waltz, playing minor chords when major chords were needed. My inability to wield Edward in conversations like I used to frustrated me. Bluntness, I decided, would serve me better.
I glanced around, catching only the pleasant sound of voices that carried on the breeze in the stable yard and the coo of doves as they searched for feed. At least as far as I could tell, no one was overhearing us.
I leaned forward, feeling like a traitress to Mr. Macy, then whispered, “You don’t understand. I am not going to Scotland. That’s why I hired Lady Foxmore. Either you marry me now or it will never happen.”
Edward’s brows pulled together as he also inclined. “Or,” he said, “I take the third option. I wait for God’s timing. Why are you suddenly whispering? And why this sudden rush to marry? There’s something more that you’re not telling me, Julia. It’s as obvious as the nose on your face.”
Wide-eyed, I stared. I felt much as a scullery maid would, having snuck upstairs in the dead of night only to find the housekeeper waiting there in the dark with hands on hips.
“Something fearful is perching on your soul,” Edward continued, rising. “And what I don’t understand is why you’re attempting to handle it by managing me. Well, it won’t work. I won’t make decisions that affect the rest of our lives based on partial information. What’s really happening here, Juls?”
Had someone poured a pitcher of water from a frozen stream over my head, I could not have felt more chilled. I stood.
Edward planted his hands on his hips as I took a stumbling step backwards. My legs were so weak I felt like I was wading through a pool of honey that suctioned my feet to the ground.
I am not sure how matters would have ended. But at that precise moment, the sound of a horseman screaming at his mount rent the air. Mr. Forrester rode into view, his frothing horse tearing up the turf. Mud-covered, Mr. Forrester slid from the mount in the stable yard. Like a man intoxicated, he screamed curses at the stablemen while he beat a bucket of feed with his whip. When one of the stable hands rushed out, Mr. Forrester lashed him with his riding crop.
Edward bolted toward them, and Henry Auburn appeared from the side of the stable. A struggle ensued, during which Mr. Forrester noted me, watching, stunned, a short distance away.
“You!” he screamed, pointing toward me.
Henry shoved his chest, forcing him backwards a step or two, shouting, “You dare point at a lady, sir!”
Anguish and fury seared over Mr. Forrester’s face. Using his entire body, he tried to pummel past Edward and Henry. “That . . . !” he screamed, losing energy when he couldn’t break free of the Auburns. He started sobbing. “That is no lady! That is . . .” He sank to his knees. “Is no . . .”
Edward caught my eye, and with a jerk of his head indicated his desire for me to retreat indoors.
A pale ghost, I slipped inside the library and then locked the door behind me. I checked and rechecked the lock before backing away, steadying my breath.
When I entered Eastbourne, I’d felt so panicked by Mr. Forrester’s accusation that I spun in a circle twice, trying to determine which direction to take. I decided against one of the nearby common rooms left unlocked for our use, not wanting to risk meeting her ladyship or the Windhams. I likewise spurned heading toward my chambers, as Edward knew where they were located.
Luckily, I had my set of keys. Recalling that the largest and most ornate key belonged to the library, I had set off in search of it. Within a few minutes I made my way inside the vast chamber; its multiple entrances and central location helped me to find it quickly.
Inside, a fire invited me from the other end of the gallery. Fighting back tears, I crossed the room and climbed into an oversized chair that had been positioned at an angle to enjoy the hearth. I took up a camel-colored blanket that lay crumpled over the ottoman.
I was still stunned. The morning had not gone at all as I’d planned. Here I had thought I could manipulate Edward. But he’d not only called my bluff; he’d outright demanded I be truthful with him.
I drew my feet onto the oversized cushion, gathering the blanket against my chest. The scent of cigars and sandalwood did little to untangle my overwrought nerves. How could I have been so stupid as to complicate matters even further by asking Edward to elope with me? What would I have done if he’d said yes? Exposed him to my guardian’s wrath?
I gave a hysterical laugh, half desiring to cry, as I imagined what Mr. Forrester might be saying to Henry and Edward at that very moment. Like a ninny, the moment I was accused, I’d fled.
“What a fool I am,” I said to myself. “How will I ever be able to explain that away?”
“There’s always a way, darling,” Mr. Macy said from the corner behind me.
The blanket tangled in my feet as I sprang up from the chair. Mr. Macy reached and steadied me from behind, before I managed to kick it off.
“Sweetheart.” He chuckled, then kissed my forehead. “It wasn’t my intent to frighten you. Are you hurt?”
Heat rushed over my face. “You were there the entire time!”
“Well, I didn’t just appear out of the air. I saw you were in no mood for disturbances.” His voice comforted, even as he sounded amused. “Yet it would have been heartless to leave you alone, when you were so obviously disturbed. I thought it best to wait it out. Someday I hope you’ll return the courtesy.” He refreshed a half glass of brandy sitting out and handed me the tumbler. “Care to disclose what is so unexplainable?”
The guilt staining my soul now stained my cheeks. “Mr. Forrester just arrived in the stable yard and was . . . rather angry.”
Mr. Macy grinned. “Yes, I rather imagined he would feel put out. What else?”
“When he turned his crop on one of the stable hands, Edward . . .” I froze, realizing I’d used his first name.
“Go on,” Mr. Macy encouraged.
While Mr. Macy lit a cigarette, I told him about the scene Mr. Forrester had caused, and how I’d run away when he started accusing me. Mr. Macy frowned as he listened, but with a fluid movement stamped out his cig, disturbing the thin blue line of smoke that wavered from it.
His brow knit as he crushed the paper into the ash. “You’ve nothing to worry about. I guarantee you Robert was restrained from saying more after you’d left.”
I studied him, wondering how he could be so certain. He reclined against the back of his seat and smiled. “Reynolds informed me you went walking with Reverend Auburn. How did that go? Better than yesterday?”
His forthrightness put me at ease. “No. He thinks I’m going to Scotland and wants to visit me there.”
Mr. Macy’s laughter was genuine. “No, that’s scarcely better, is it, darling? Do you really think it wise to discuss the topic of your guardian with him? Are you certain he won’t start poking around for answers?”
I looked away, realizing I ha
dn’t considered that.
“Perhaps John’s assessment is correct.” Mr. Macy steepled his fingers, studying me a moment. “Maybe the sooner we amend this, the better. Besides, it’s high time you had stability. Let’s marry before this week closes. I daresay, I can afford time away. No business, I promise. We’ll spend an entire month in my London home. Shop, theatre, opera, whatever you wish.” He leaned forward and searched my face.
For a second, as I thought about Edward, I wanted to stall Mr. Macy, but instead I nodded acceptance of his plan.
“Can we steal away at night?” I asked. “Marry, then go to London? Let Reynolds see Ed—everyone out of Eastbourne. Please.”
Mr. Macy cocked his head. “Don’t you think that’s rather unkind to Reverend Auburn?” Instead of sounding annoyed, his voice softened. “All right, if that is your wish. Though I hope you have better sense than to attempt something like that with me.” He twisted the ring on his pinkie. “You do realize eloping with a hermit twice your age will cause a sensation. Are you ready to handle the gossip?”
To show indifference, I arched an eyebrow.
He laughed. “Yes, I believe you are. That’s my girl. Would you like to spend the day with me? I have work that needs my concentration, but your presence would not disturb. Your novels haven’t arrived, yet I should be able to locate something useful to read, though perhaps less interesting.”
I desired to remain, but I sensed a reluctance behind the offer. Unwillingly, I shook my head. “No. Henry leaves this afternoon, and I should say good-bye to him.”
He rose and offered a hand. He pulled me to him and kissed along the side of my face. “I’ll see you later tonight,” he promised, whispering into my hair. When he stepped back, his eye settled on a glass cabinet near us. “Here.” He strode to it. “I have something that ought to amuse you.”
He unlocked the case and with both hands lifted a book. I joined him, curious, then tried to hide disappointment, seeing an engraving of Shakespeare on the front paper.
“The first folio of his works ever published.” He handed it to me. “It’s priceless. Not even Reynolds is permitted to touch it.”
Born of Persuasion Page 29
