by Lower, Becky
“Yes, Mrs. Fitzpatrick, he has. And may I say you are most gracious to offer up your home and grounds for our reception. But I don’t want to interfere with your usual festivities. We can just as easily marry in town, in front of a justice of the peace. The wedding needn’t be anything elaborate.”
“Nonsense, Grace. You’re marrying into the Fitzpatrick family, so of course we must have a proper ceremony. Our usual festivities will be all the better if we have a wedding to celebrate, too. Don’t you worry about a thing. Jasmine and I will attend to the details.”
Grace glanced across the table and caught Jasmine’s gleaming eyes and huge smile. Her body quaked a little again. This whole marriage thing was about to become a reality! Now she surely wouldn’t be able to eat a thing.
Halwyn kept a close eye on her throughout the meal, and made a game out of the meal, encouraging her to try just one bite of everything.
“You and little Saffron are two of a kind. She turns her nose up at everything, even food she loved last week. We have a constant battle of wills to get food down her.”
Grace helped herself to a forkful of salmon. “Well, considering how much I’ve stuffed away this evening, at your insistence, I’d say Saffron’s in no immediate danger of starving.”
“No, she’s not. But you and I have a lot coming up in the next month or so, and we need to be at our best. A good, hearty meal will see you through hours of wedding gown fittings, and shopping with Mother for the perfect fixtures for my, er, our, home.”
Grace began to relax in the company of such a fine family. She laughed and joked with her tablemates. This was her first real exposure to Parr, Jasmine’s husband. His gentle Irish lilt was quite pleasant. And he was extremely good looking. She understood now why Jasmine picked him over the titled Alistair. What a handsome couple.
The dessert cups of stewed fruit with sponge cake had yet to be cleared away when Alistair stood. “Before we take our leave and head off in our separate directions, Mrs. Fitzpatrick has asked if she can make an announcement. A highly irregular request, to be sure, but this is Charlotte Fitzpatrick we’re dealing with, so we’ve come to expect nothing less. Shall we give her the floor?”
Alistair sat and Charlotte rose to the smattering of applause. Grace held her breath.
“My dear friends and family. I want to take this opportunity to invite you all to our home in the Hamptons over the Fourth of July. We usually fill the entire weekend with events, and have a steeplechase horse race, croquet, and other fun events. This year will be even more special, as we are set to invite another person into our family. The lovely Grace Wagner and our son, Halwyn, want to be married while in the Hamptons and to hold their marriage reception on the grounds of our estate, the day prior to Independence Day. You’re all invited to the festivities.”
In the quiet applause following her remarks, Grace exhaled slowly. Simon didn’t jump to his feet and cause a scene by objecting to the marriage. She glanced down the table at him, and realized why. Her mother had fainted, and was slumped over the table, her cheek resting on top of the stewed fruit. Grace gasped and rose quickly, rushing to her mother’s side the same time as Dr. Alexander, a family friend of the Fitzpatricks’, began to check her over.
“Will Mother be all right?” she asked the doctor, as fear etched her words with whispers.
“Seems as though she’s fainted at the stupendous news of her only daughter’s wedding plans. I’m certain she’ll be fine as soon as we get her to a couch and administer some smelling salts.” He nodded at Simon and the gentleman on Sophie’s immediate left, who picked up the limp woman and carried her into the next room.
Grace, with Halwyn and Charlotte close behind, followed the men and the doctor into the parlor. Simon turned to her once he deposited Sophie on the divan.
“Are you happy now? This is all your doing. Your poor mother has fainted! You didn’t even have the decency to make her aware of your plans in advance. What kind of daughter are you?” His words rumbled through the room, increasing in volume as he continued.
“I, I didn’t know myself, Simon, until right before dinner, that a Hamptons wedding was being discussed.”
“We did kind of spring our idea on her, Simon,” Charlotte replied, putting one hand on Grace’s back. “Blame me, not Grace. This was my idea.”
“I’ll blame the lot of you, if I want to. I don’t need or want your permission. You damn Fitzpatricks are bent on destroying my family. Grace will not be marrying Halwyn, in the Hamptons or anywhere else.”
“Yes, she will, Simon,” Halwyn replied quietly, but he stood face to face with the man.
“No, she won’t, Fitzpatrick. You haven’t bested me yet.” Simon spat out the words and walked away, leaving Grace to tend to her mother.
• • •
Halwyn restrained himself with every ounce of willpower he had, even though he desperately wanted to throttle Simon Huffman. Halwyn hadn’t gotten any man into the collar and elbow position since his wrestling days at Yale, but his muscle memory was still intact, and his arms and hands were twitching as he attempted to control his impulse. He was grateful Simon had stormed off, his regard for his wife irrelevant. Typical of the man not to care that his wife was still unconscious.
Halwyn’s thoughts were not for Sophie Huffman either, but rather for Grace. He glanced at her as she sat beside her prostrate mother, holding her hand. Grace had done nothing to bring the wrath of Simon to her. She was a victim, and Halwyn was certain her refusal to bow to Simon caused her more grief than if she had gone along with him. But she was a proud young lady, and Halwyn applauded her for not losing herself and her character, as Sophie seemed to have done.
The smelling salts finally worked, and Sophie’s eyes fluttered open. She struggled to a seating position and waved the doctor away. People drifted off, too, once the doctor determined Sophie was going to be all right, leaving only the Fitzpatricks and Grace. Sophie clutched Grace’s hand as if she was holding a rope leading her up from the dark chasm her life had become.
“I implore you, Grace, don’t do this. Don’t marry Halwyn and leave me alone with Simon. I don’t think I can bear his tirades by myself.”
Charlotte Fitzpatrick leaned over Sophie and said in a low voice, “You don’t need to stay with Simon, Sophie. If he’s hurting you in any way, our home is open to you as well as your daughter. Please hear me.”
Sophie’s gaze dropped to the floor. “Things are not that simple, Charlotte. I’m responsible for this mess, and now I must live with the results.”
“Very well then. But we will do our best to make certain your daughter is safe. Will you not stand in our way?”
Sophie locked eyes with Charlotte then, and breathed out the words, “Thank you,” before lowering her gaze again.
Halwyn caught his mother’s quick glance at him, and the nod of her head toward Grace. He realized she wanted a quiet moment with Sophie, to talk some sense into her, he guessed. He took Grace’s hand and moved her away from her mother’s side.
“We need some fresh air, Grace. Let’s take a walk.”
“But the countryside is so dark, Halwyn. We can’t possibly see to walk anywhere.”
“We won’t go far. I just need a smoke.” He led her to the front porch of Alistair’s home, and took a seat. Darkness prevented the pair from seeing much beyond the porch railing, but Grace sat quietly beside Halwyn as he lit his cheroot, and then leaned back in the loveseat.
“Quite an evening, wouldn’t you say?” He tried to infuse his words with humor. Taken at face value, Grace could well be mortified by the way the evening had played out. He was hoping she could see beyond the events, and find a bit of fun.
She laughed softly, and Halwyn took a deep breath. She did see the humor. Thank God.
“I’m certain we’ll be the talk of the town for the next week, at the very least. My mother taking a nose-dive into her stewed fruit was a sight.” Her shoulders moved as she giggled with mirth.
“My mother has to keep things lively. She could have waited until I had time to talk to your parents alone. But that wouldn’t have had nearly the same shock value that her announcement did.” He chuckled.
Grace reached over and took his hand in the darkness. He was surprised at her action, and was grateful for the darkness. He certainly didn’t want Grace to get the mistaken idea that he disapproved of her behavior. Not when her hand fit his so neatly. And her skin was so exquisitely soft. He wove his fingers between hers.
“I guess this makes things official now,” she said. “I mean, our engagement was one thing, but now to have invited everyone to the wedding in July makes everything real. No turning back.”
“Unless Simon has yet another trick up his sleeve,” Halwyn replied.
“I think even Simon has to now admit defeat.” Grace settled herself next to Halwyn, placing her head on his shoulder.
“There is still one thing, though … ” Halwyn waved his cigar through the air, and both he and Grace followed the graceful arc of the burning tobacco with their eyes. “We still haven’t kissed to seal our engagement. If you’ll remember, Simon rudely interrupted us last time.”
He turned to gaze directly into her eyes. If he’d thought Grace taking hold of his hand was impetuous, his words to her now were tantamount to them jumping off a cliff. And yet, intriguing. She held his gaze steady, unafraid. His stomach began to jump, as did other body parts. He wondered again if her lips could be as soft as he imagined. Well, there was only one way to find out.
He stood, and ground out his cheroot with his boot. Then he turned to her and extended his hand. The hand she had released only moments earlier. She rose and stood beside him, gazing up at him expectantly.
“I think it’s time we take care of such an important tradition.” He ran his fingers lightly down her cheek, tracing her jaw line before he raised her chin. She reached up and removed his glasses.
“I’m close enough now. You won’t be needing these, Halwyn.” She smiled and closed her eyes.
He dipped his head and his lips brushed hers gently. Soft as a rose petal, as he suspected. She moaned slightly and he deepened the kiss, tasting her lips completely. His tongue sought entrance, and her lips parted of their own accord. Emotion ripped through his body unexpectedly as she quivered under his touch. Her hands encircled his neck, and his arms moved around her, holding her close. He’d held women before, but this time, things were different. He tried to sort out why for only a moment before he slid into the embrace and let loose his riotous emotions. She tasted of nectar and he was a honeybee, buzzing back for more, time and again.
The pair broke apart at the same time, and stared at each other. Grace handed him back his glasses, which he replaced on the bridge of his nose before clearing his throat.
Grace’s eyes shone in the darkness. “Well, I guess we’re all official now,” she squeaked.
“I’d say so,” he replied, skimming his hand down her cheek again before taking a step back.
Halwyn had the feeling the next twelve months were going to be a long ordeal. Now since he’d sampled a bit of her, could he live under the same roof and not want to taste all of her?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Halwyn helped Parr saddle up the horses for the morning’s ride. The ladies were in another part of the stables, preparing their mounts. George Fitzpatrick ran his hand down the neck of the horse selected for Halwyn to ride. The horse was restless, and ready to run.
“Halwyn, let’s trade horses. I’m not so old that I don’t appreciate a lively mount.”
“Are you certain, Father? This horse was a handful yesterday, and he’s prancing around here today even more than before.”
“I can handle him. After all, I’ve managed to raise nine children, haven’t I?”
“But you spread your offspring out, and you’re not done raising them all yet, Father. Don’t let Simon’s remarks from yesterday goad you into riding a mount that you can’t handle.”
His father hoisted himself into the saddle of the stallion. “For God’s sake, son, I can handle one fidgety horse. Climb onto the tame one and let’s go meet up with the ladies.”
Halwyn shrugged his shoulders, put his foot into the stirrup, and lifted his leg over the horse. Once his father made up his mind, there was no talking to him, which was part of what made him such a good businessman. He set a course of action and then pursued the chosen course until he reached his end goal. If his goal today was to prove he was still young enough to ride a spirited horse, Halwyn would not stand in his way.
The men reached the paddock where the other horses and riders were waiting. Charlotte and Grace rode over to George and Halwyn. George was having trouble controlling his horse in the close quarters.
“What are you doing on the most rambunctious mount in the entire stable?” Charlotte admonished her husband. “He’s too much of a horse for you.”
“Nonsense, dear. Once we get into the open, he’ll settle down. He’s simply nervous in the corral.”
“Once you get into the open, he’ll throw you off his back and run off. Give him to Halwyn and you get on his nice, gentle horse. Enough of this foolishness,” Charlotte said sternly to her husband.
“As you wish, dear,” he replied as he dismounted and handed the reins to his son. George glanced at his wife. “You know I can deny you nothing.”
Charlotte’s smile widened as Halwyn got down from his tame horse and took charge of the spirited one. George and Charlotte left the paddock area, riding out together.
Halwyn shook his head at Grace. “My parents still act as if they’re newlyweds, even to this day.”
“I think they’re sweet together. I hope one day to have a similar relationship with my husband.”
Halwyn didn’t have much time to contemplate Grace’s meaning as his focus shifted when his horse reared up on his back legs. “Whoa!” He managed to control the horse, and checked to make certain Grace was not harmed. “I’m certainly glad Father and I switched horses. I hope this one settles soon, or I’m going to be in for one difficult ride. And I was planning on spending the afternoon talking to you, not attempting to control a wayward horse.”
As the pair led the horses from the paddock area, Halwyn noticed Parr carefully eying his horse. Parr raised his hand to Halwyn, and he saluted back. He turned to begin his afternoon’s conversation with Grace just as his horse darted through the open gate and galloped down the path, his hoofs ringing out as they came into contact with hard rock on the sides of the path. Halwyn had been loosely holding the reins, but he now grabbed on tightly and pulled hard. The horse paid no attention.
Nothing stopped the horse’s headlong dash, or careening behavior. Halwyn hung onto the horse’s mane as the landscape whizzed by. His breath came out in a series of grunts as he hit hard on the saddle, but he managed to stay seated. His heart pumped hard as he attempted to control his mount. Surely the horse would run out of steam soon. The stallion’s pace seemed to be slowing after a mile or so, and Halwyn breathed a sigh of relief, loosening his grip on the reins as his knees unclenched. The horse ran on a short ways, before abruptly turning and rearing up again with a loud whinny. Halwyn was tossed into the air, as if he were a rag doll.
• • •
Grace tried to keep Halwyn’s horse in her sights, and had nearly caught up to him when the horse reared up and tossed Halwyn from his saddle. She screamed as Halwyn flew through the air and landed on the hard ground. She brought her horse to a halt and ran to Halwyn’s side. He was still breathing, but he had lost consciousness. She ran her hands over his arms and legs, searching for broken bones, and noticed one leg was pinned under him at an odd angle.
Other riders came up behind her, and she cried out to the group. She was relieved to see Dr. Alexander among the riders. He jumped off his horse and dropped to his knees to examine Halwyn.
“He’s got a broken leg, most definitely. Possibly a concussion. I wouldn’t be surprised, considering how hard this
ground is. But, for now, let’s get a splint on his leg and move him to the house. Gentlemen, if some of you can gather up solid branches which we can use, and someone else ride back to the stable and fetch a cart.”
“Will he live?” Grace ran her hand over Halwyn’s pale face, and picked up his broken glasses from the ground.
“More than likely. But I need to examine him more thoroughly, and talk to him when he wakes up. What happened, anyway? Halwyn’s an excellent rider.”
“His horse was acting up from the moment Halwyn mounted up this morning. As soon as the horse got a glimpse of the open gate, he ran as if he were being chased by the very devil himself. Oh, poor Halwyn.”
The doctor straightened out Halwyn’s leg as best he could, and directed the men on the formation of the splint.
Parr rode up, followed by the cart, and helped lift Halwyn into the conveyance. Once the cart began to move back to the house, Parr turned to Grace.
“Which way did the horse go, Grace? Do you remember?”
She pointed to the woods off to her right. “He ran into the trees, smashing into the trunks as he ran. If Halwyn hadn’t fallen off when he did, he could have been in much worse shape. What is wrong with the horse?”
“I don’t know yet, but I intend to find out,” Parr replied as he took off into the woods, following the line of broken tree branches marking the horse’s panicked, headlong flight.
Grace was joined by Charlotte and George Fitzpatrick and all rode quietly alongside the cart for the short distance back to the house. Grace glanced at Charlotte, as tears filled her eyes.
“I’m so worried. Halwyn hasn’t woken up, or reacted at all, even when the doctor was repositioning his leg. He whimpered in pain, but didn’t cry out.”
Charlotte reached over and patted Grace’s hand. “My years as a mother have taught me Halwyn’s unconsciousness is for the best right now, dear. Until the doctor gets his leg properly set and administers some medicine, he should remain unconscious. The body has a remarkable way of dealing with pain.”
