So Rare a Gift (Daughters of His Kingdom Book 3)
Page 9
“A girl must be courted.” Eliza turned to Thomas, a cant to her smile. “You and I did not officially court, but that was different.”
Thomas flicked his eyes to William, then to Nathaniel and back to Eliza. “’Tis obvious Nathaniel and I are unfit for planning such matters.”
Kitty stepped forward. “We could always begin by arranging meetings, and attending dances and other social events. If ’tis truly your intent to marry then there are proper ways to find women who would be more than willing to court.”
“Aye,” Thomas said. “Caroline Whitney is a staunch patriot and always attends Cooper’s gatherings.”
Nathaniel shook his head. “She is an excellent choice, but I feel we need to give William the respect of choice he needs in this matter.”
“I haven’t time to court.” William growled and leaned his head back, glaring and speaking the next words under his breath. “Why did I say I would consider this?”
Eliza moved closer to her husband, the four of them forming a semi-circle in front of the fire as if William weren’t in the room. “I fear we are taking too much upon ourselves.”
Thomas gestured to William but spoke to his wife. “He knows no ladies in town, and did we not promise to help him?” He exhaled and looked to Nathaniel. “Elizabeth Curling?”
Eliza shook her head. “She’s left for Georgia.”
“Katie Pickett?” Nathaniel said.
Both women refused with sharp eyes.
Shoots of nervous energy buzzed through William’s limbs, forcing his knee up and down so hard he feared the heel of his boot would pound a hole in the floor. More and more names drifted in the parlor air. His entire future rested upon whether they could concur on a complete stranger to suit him for the rest of his life. He shouldn’t allow it. He should stand and demand they put an end to this fruitless and embarrassing display.
Yet, he stayed quiet. Why? Only God knew. And if God would ever impart a portion of His wisdom, now would be a most welcome moment. William tried to work his jaw from its motionless position, to allow his voice to speak in his behalf, but it wouldn’t move. He closed his eyes and gripped the arms of the chair. Surely this foolish notion would dissolve soon enough and he could resume his journey in the morning.
“Martha Curry?” Thomas suggested, clearly determined to continue. “She’s just returned from Salem to live with her brother, and from what I hear she is quite lovely.”
“You mean you’ve never seen her?” William shot from the chair, his heated blood rising to his neck. “Though I know your idea is well meant, it is folly. For this new life I’ve undertaken to be believable, a marriage must be made quickly.” He raked his hand through his hair with a growl before moving around his seat and clutching the back of it. “What woman would accept a man she hardly knows?”
~~~
Alone in the kitchen, Anna struggled to close her ears to the conversation that ensued in the connecting room. Poor William. He needed to marry? Why? Having missed much of what the gentlemen had said previously—when Mrs. Watson had so kindly seen to her needs—Anna fumbled with the few facts she’d gleaned. Something dreadful must have happened to force him to such a decision. One he seemed none too keen to accept.
The voices stretching into her quiet kitchen sanctuary rose, edged with frustration. Name after name tossed upon the air, and every one refused. William’s irritation thickened like a seaside fog. She bit her lip and toyed with the ring at her neck. She knew that feeling—that sense of falling, dropping into an abyss, an empty dark future that you must accept despite the yearnings of your heart.
William’s voice carried above the rest. “What woman would accept a man she hardly knows?”
Anna looked to the door and answered silently. A woman would be a simpleton indeed to refuse the hand of someone so kind and generous. Never had she met a man with whom she felt so…safe.
Suddenly, a silent melody danced upon the air, like a song from an unseen angel chorus. He needs to marry someone…but whom? The answer hummed over her skin in delicate harmony. You.
She bolted upright. What in heaven’s name? Breathing long and deep, Anna tried to shake the thought from her mind but it refused to release its hold. A flurry of questions she’d forced from her mind started a quick and violent quarrel. What would happen to her now? They had made it this far, but where would she go tomorrow and the day after that? Father would stop at nothing until she was found and returned to him. William was the only person she knew, and strangely, the only person she trusted. He needed to start a new life, and so did she.
Perhaps…
Anna swiveled in her seat and glanced toward the parlor. Her pulse drummed wildly, and she pressed her palm against the ring that rested against her skin. What if she offered—
She laughed quietly to herself. Nay, she couldn’t. Silly notion.
Could she?
Anna stared at the orange glow from the kitchen fire. What about love? Had she not promised her mother she would only marry if her heart directed her? Though if she did offer, she would be the one choosing her future and no one else. Why am I even considering this? She blinked, but the action failed to dislodge the rooted thought.
Would William even accept her if she offered herself? How foolish she would feel if he refused her. Then again, should she not at least try? Sacrificing a marriage of love for one of safety seemed the best way to ensure her future in America—a future away from her father’s dominant hand. For now, though discovering the truth of Samuel’s death was ingrained in her spirit, ’twas paramount that her feet never again tread upon London soil. William was a good man. How she could be so sure of it, she didn’t know, but she was. She could be content living the rest of her life as his companion, if he would have her.
Propelled to standing by a weight of courage that drove through her middle, Anna stepped toward the parlor, hands quivering, stomach turning. Pressing away every quaking fear, she fixed the singular purpose in her vision as she stood in the doorway of the kitchen and steadied her eyes on William. His back to her, he still debated with the others as they circled the fireplace, all of them oblivious to her presence.
“Pardon me?” Hardly more than a whisper left her mouth. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Pa—pardon me?” Not any more volume than before. Gather yourself, Anna.
“William?” Finally, the needed volume.
The group pivoted toward her, and before her fears submerged her determination she spoke. “I…I would marry you.”
Pressing her hands against her middle Anna measured every inhale and exhale. William blinked as if he tried to interpret what she’d spoken, and instant regret dripped down her spine. The words remained on the air, echoing back and forth in the space between them, growing louder with every second that passed.
She offered a smile, however small she could muster, to show the sincerity of her statement and mask the way she quivered from head to foot, lest he believe she made light of his serious troubles.
William didn’t move. His gaze drove through her like a sharp spike, every unspoken word preaching from the folds in his brow.
He thinks I am mad.
She cleared her throat. “Forgive me, I—”
“What did you say?” he said.
She swallowed and gripped her fingers harder, straining with every thread of strength to keep her voice from shaking. “I…I said I would marry you.” Her throat clenched and she hardly found the strength to speak again. She prayed her plea would soften the hard lines of his jaw. “If you would have me.”
He scowled deeper then turned to look at the others as if seeking some kind of counsel. They thought her a fool. Likely she was. What had she done?
Mrs. Watson stepped forward, arms outstretched until she reached Anna, taking her hand. Her gentle grasp tightened as she undoubtedly felt the tremor in Anna’s fingers.
Her voice was low and wound around Anna like a comforting blanket. “Mrs. Rone, you needn’t offer yourself. I am s
ure you are very grateful to…” She turned around briefly. “To Mr. Fredericks. But you mustn’t feel the need to—”
“But I don’t—I mean I do, I mean…” Anna looked down, feeling the heat of every eye and the oppressive weight of her declaration. Her breath raced. What else could she do? No doubt that man from the carriage still sought her. If her rescuer did not accept this proposal, where would she go? She had no one. No place of refuge. Could it be possible God had arranged such a moment—for her? For both of them?
Lips pressed together, she looked at the man who once again stared. He’d been so kind. Was it foolish to think such generosity would be continued through a lifetime? The past cried from her memory like a prisoner just freed from the shackles. You fool! Have your years of bondage taught you nothing?
Then, as if the hand of God Himself stroked her very spirit, the quivering ceased and she looked up, meeting the kind gaze of the woman in front of her as the fear drained from her spirit. “I do wish to, Mrs. Watson.”
With a quick squeeze, Anna released her grip and stepped into the parlor, stopping several feet from the man who could be her husband.
Meeting his stare, she lifted her chin, unsure how she was able to stay upright, let alone meet his questioning gaze. “I do not know your reasons, as well I know you do not know mine.” She stopped, screaming a silent prayer. “But I do know if we are both committed to God, and to one another, we can make a happy marriage.”
She bit her tongue, fighting the urge to keep speaking and fill the itching silence.
Still he said nothing, but the pique in his features melted and the slope of his mouth seemed to ask if she were in earnest.
Anna pleaded with God to quiet the remaining fears, holding tight to her abiding faith. Gaining William’s gaze, she gifted him a half-smile, his endless blue eyes swimming with questions and fears, and perhaps, even hope.
The painful silence continued.
Would he say nothing? Her mind whirled. Had she spoken when she ought not? Her cheeks turned hot. Her stomach twisted as she fought the memories of Edwin— his forceful hand, jealous eye and demanding nature. Consumed, she lowered her eyes. Nay. Not again. Not ever again. Dear Lord, what have I done?
She took a step back when William reached out. “Mrs. Rone.”
The tenderness in his strong fingers eased her rising anxiety and she stopped, studying his fingers as they tenderly gripped her arm.
He continued and moved his hand to hers, that deep resonating voice now a thick whisper. “You would do this? You are under no obligation.”
“I know.” She waited, expecting the fears to rise to threatening levels, for her throat to close and her vision to blur. But her pulse stayed even and her eyes remained clear. The longer she stood with her hand in his, hope, weightless and warm, circled her spirit.
She found her voice. “I would do this.”
The smallest grin lit his eyes only and he released her hand then turned to the men behind him. “Well, gentlemen, I believe I have been blessed with a willing bride.”
“Excellent.” Nathaniel came forward and cupped his shoulder. “The moment the sun rises, I shall ride for Reverend Charles.”
CHAPTER SIX
William stood in front of the kitchen fire, gazing at the dancing flames. After only a few hours of sleep, the sun had crested over the horizon, awakening him to the strange future he’d accepted. All that had transpired in the last three days seemed so surreal he’d half expected to awake and find himself in his quarters, ready to begin his daily routine of drills and reports.
He peered toward the stairway where Eliza and Kitty had whisked Mrs. Rone away to prepare her for the speaking of vows while Nathaniel had gone for the reverend.
Could this really be? Should this be? Too many questions warred within him to allow clear enough thought. He breathed out a laugh. In battle, when decisions must be made, when lives were at stake, those decisions came easily. Here, the decision to marry having clearly been made, his mind and spirit fought like bitter rivals. Marriage was not to be taken lightly. This was a commitment made before God that one would love and care for a spouse until death, in all tribulations of life. Was he ready to make that vow? He ground his teeth. He had been once. Had been willing to risk everything for such a life, only to have his heart left to canker in his chest.
The memories burned and he blinked them away as Thomas entered, a brush and mirror in one hand, a fresh shirt tucked under his arm. In his other hand he carried a bucket of water and a cloth. “You best clean yourself up, or she might change her mind.”
William grinned and pulled at the ribbon in his hair, eager to wipe away the stench. “I suppose if she’s willing to marry me looking like this, she’s a better woman than most.”
“That she is.” Thomas offered a light chuckle then quickly turned somber. “Are you certain this is what you want?”
William’s jaw ticked and he pulled off the soiled shirt. “We both know the alternative.” Dipping the cloth in the cool water he wiped his arms and chest. “I could head west, but to what end?”
The fresh scent of the soap almost cleaned away the dark anxieties that coated his lungs. He dried himself and slipped the crisp linen over his shoulders, the clean fabric feeling light against his cool skin. He placed the mirror on the mantel and focused on tying the neckcloth before turning to Thomas. He bound his hair behind his neck, sighing. “There’s nothing else to be done. I shall marry a woman I’ve known for barely two days and become a farmer.” It made his stomach turn the way his mouth could form the words as if he were merely discussing the weather.
Thomas’s expression dipped. “You do not have to give up soldiering forever.”
William scoffed. “Do I not?”
“You must know they will tire searching for you. The siege on Boston and continuing skirmishes are more than sufficient to keep the redcoats occupied.”
He pulled himself straighter. “Is it not cowardly of me to take up such a life when I could make myself useful to Washington?”
“You can make yourself useful by becoming a patriot. There are countless ways for you to be of help to our cause, and no doubt God will make sure your particular skills are put to use.” Thomas joined him in front of the fire. “And I have a feeling we shall discover those ways soon enough.”
A knock at the front door, followed by Nathaniel’s immediate greeting, pulled William back to the place his mind tried to escape.
Nathaniel peeked his head around the kitchen door. “I’ve brought the reverend.”
Thomas left with a nod and William stalled, taking one last look in the mirror. He pushed a hard, loud breath through his mouth. The face of a husband, was it? Hardly. The face of a fool, more like.
Never since London had he considered marriage. Not since her—since Anna. There. He’d thought her name. Allowed it to unearth from the graveyard of his memory. That name carried the dregs of hell with it. He shook his arms at his sides to rid the nerves from his tightening muscles and marched to the parlor to shake hands with Reverend Charles, and to forever forget the woman who had used him so ill.
Perhaps God had found a way to heal him after all.
Even if such a remedy were a hasty marriage to a stranger.
~~~
Anna could hardly breathe, hardly swallow.
She stared at herself in the mirror, blinking, grasping desperately for a semblance of reason. What had she done?
Seated in front of the dressing table, Anna resisted gaining Eliza’s gaze in the mirror. She stood behind her, brushing and finishing Anna’s hair with a delicate pink ribbon. The dear woman, who had insisted Anna call her by her first name, seemed able to read Anna’s thoughts with a mere glance. Kitty had gone home to retrieve a gown she insisted would be perfect for such an occasion. The gesture was so kind it lured tears to Anna’s eyes.
She swallowed and cleared her throat again, dropping a quick glance to Eliza’s growing belly, her own stomach suddenly hard as stone.
Should she tell him she could never bear children? If she did it may change his mind and then what would she do? Be forced to surrender to her father’s will? Nay. This time, she was making the decisions for her future—for the good or for the bad.
“Mrs. Rone?”
Anna looked up.
Eliza stopped brushing and rested her hands on her shoulders. “You have done a brave and generous thing.”
Allowing her mouth to lift on one side, Anna attempted a smile. She was neither brave nor generous. Rather, selfish and fearful. Anna looked down at her hands. “I thank you for that.” For though the words were meant to strengthen, they ripped open the vulnerable parts of her spirit and flayed them for all to see.
Eliza continued. “I want you to know that Hen—” she stopped and smiled briefly. “That he, William, is a good man.”
Was he? She’d known him not even two days. And yet, she’d offered her life to him. She raced back through the memories of her brief time with the handsome stranger. Not once had he raised his hand or his voice despite the perils they’d endured on their short journey together. On the contrary. He’d risked his life on her behalf—saved her from that which she most feared. She shivered at the thought. I shall never return to England. She reached for the chain at her neck and closed her eyes. Never, Lord, I pray thee.
Anna played with the treasure that rested against her chest as Eliza tugged at her hair. Her eyes misted. Mother had wished more for her, had she not? And here, with a new chance at life, in a new land, she had chosen to bind herself to a man she hardly knew.
“There.” Eliza stepped back and grinned so wide her face beamed, eyes twinkling in the light of the sunrise that shone through the window. “He would be a fool indeed to turn down such an offer from one so beautiful. And so kind.”
Anna’s chest tightened. How generous of her, truly. But what man would marry a woman who is barren? Her father had made that clear from her youth.