by Laura Locke
Laughing, Melody lifted hers gingerly, peering out from beneath it. Her pirate partner was less timid, ripping it over his head and swinging her about to face him.
“Conner! Conner! Is it really you?”
“My Melody, of course it is.”
“But I thought you were at sea?”
“I was, indeed, perhaps you have lost track of time? I served in the King’s Navy but when it came time to renew my commitment, I decided I had had enough. I have chosen to put down roots, deep into the soil. I have swallowed enough seawater for a lifetime.”
Melody almost threw herself against his chest in joy, but despite the heavy persuasion of the champagne, she held herself back. Connor, however, was less reticent. He put both hands about her waist and lifted her high into the air. “Forgive me for saying so, but have I you how truly beautiful you are?”
Melody blushed furiously but amidst the crowd of people, no one noticed.
“Come, let us away from here. We have many things to discuss.”
Melody shook her head. “No, Connor I cannot leave. I am here with my mother’s cousin, Lily. We share the same carriage.”
“Then point her out to me and I will get word to her that I am seeing you home.”
“Conner, do you think that’s permitted? I should not travel with the gentleman alone, after all.”
“Do not concern yourself with that. Your reputation is quite safe with me,” he told her.
Shortly thereafter they sat side-by-side in his carriage as his driver wove between the other vehicles as they left the countess’s state.
“What a wonderful evening this has been!”
“Were you surprised? Pleasantly so, I hope?”
“Oh, indeed, I was. I cannot imagine that I am sitting next to you. Especially after all I have been through.
“Tell me about it, Melody. I made report only yesterday. The countess is by way a friend of a friend of mine and I thought to stay in town for a few days before I make my way back to Tymington.”
A shadow fell over Melody’s face, revealing more than she had planned.
“What is it? Something is wrong.”
“My father passed very recently, Connor.” Melody’s voice broke as she recalled her grief. “I am only just back in London, having returned from his funeral. Had I not felt the need to return to my business, most likely I would have stayed in Rutherford longer.”
“In… Rutherford?”
Melody could not help but roll her eyes and in the darkness she prayed he had not seen. “Your mother has been a busy woman.”
He sighed with a heavy weight of expectation. “What has she done?”
“It is not for me to say. Better that you should hear from those who still live there.”
“She has changed the name of the village?”
“Indeed, she has.”
“Melody, tell me truthfully. She had nothing to do with your father’s death, did she?”
“Oh, no, indeed no. He passed from a long ailment, undoubtedly the result of many years at the forge in the last few heavily smoking his pipe.”
“I am so very sorry, Melody.”
Melody nodded. “Thank you. My sister and her family are staying with my mother present. That allowed me to return to London is it my business.”
“Yes, indeed, you must tell me about this business of yours.”
“As you can imagine, I have opened a seamstress shop and I am pleased to say that I have enjoyed some success.”
“Indeed? And where are you staying?”
“I share a house with my mother’s cousin, Lily, as I mentioned before. My shop is now housed in the building next to our house. I am renting it as I require the additional space for storage of my materials and my employees.” She fluffed the skirt of her costume, allowing some air to circulate beneath the heavy skirts. “I wish I had thought of the heat this evening when I made this gown,” she told him.
“Employees? You are doing as well as that?”
“Indeed, I am. I am very fortunate and of course my mother’s cousin took it upon herself to introduce me to the right people. In fact, the Countess whose ball we attended this evening, has been one of my greater supporters.”
“It was only a matter of time, Melody. Your talent has long been obvious. The Countess would not support you if she did not have great faith in you. I’m very proud of you.”
“Why, thank you, Conner.”
Conner spoke up suddenly and asked the driver to explore the streets for a bit before they returned to Melody’s abode. Melody was confused, but said nothing.
“Melody, if I may, I wish to talk with you. I had a great deal of time to think while I was away. Often, I thought of you and you were frequently the only thing that kept me going through rough seas and shipboard illnesses. I remembered your beautiful hair and the way your eyes glowed. I knew I had made a mistake when I left you behind. I went off in search of my treasure, when in fact, it was standing before me all the time. Can you ever forgive me for leaving you?”
“Conner, you wanted to find your own way in the world. I could never have held you back from that. This was a necessary thing, although I will say I’m quite pleased to hear that you missed me, if that is what you’re saying,” she pumped him for reassurance.
“You minx, you. Indeed, I did miss you, very much. So much so that my intent was to return to Tymington, that is, Rutherford, something we will change quite soon I can assure you, and to speak to my mother.”
“About?”
“To make her aware that I wished to make you my wife, with your permission, of course?”
Melody was silent and Connor felt disconcerted. “I thought you cared for me? Was I so mistaken?”
“No, my feelings for you have always been quite clear in my mind. I wanted very much to be with you but never dared think of becoming your wife.”
“Why not, for heaven’s sake?”
“To be quite honest, your mother.”
“My mother? Oh, her bark is worse than her bite. I am not seeking her permission, I am simply informing her so that she may begin her glorious plans for a wedding.”
“I do not wish to have your mother involved in my life.” The finality of her words was rather shocking.
Connor heard the tone of her voice and turn on the seat to regard her. “I’m hearing something from you that I cannot explain. I know my mother was not your favorite person, but why such strong feelings now?”
“Your mother did me a disservice.”
“Oh? How so?”
“Are you really certain you want to hear all of this?”
“Of course, I do. I wish to make you my wife and anything that stands between us must come out into the open now,” he told her.
“Very well. I know that you were there the day that your mother humiliated me in front of the other women from the village. I tried to not let it bother me, but I must admit, it did. I decided at that point that I would make one last dress for her, a black gown that she had ordered and once that was delivered, I would take no more orders. On the day that I brought her that last gown, she was quite unfriendly, and I left quickly thereafter. The next day, I went into town and when I entered Dillard’s Apothecary, the women there were talking about me. Apparently, your mother had become ill in the night, some stomach issue, and she sent Mrs. Pinkerton in to the apothecary for remedies. Mrs. Pinkerton was told to let everyone know that I had poisoned your mother with some biscuits I had baked and brought with me.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Connor burst out.
“Nevertheless, the women in the village chose to believe her, when most likely in their hearts they were simply afraid of her. Regardless, my reputation was ruined, and I had no choice but to leave town. I came to London and moved in with my mother’s cousin, Lily, as I said. I began my business until I got word that my father had grown ill. I hurried back and discovered that the town hall had burned to the ground and your mother had more or less taken over the village. She h
ad the giant oak tree in the town center cut down and a monument to your father placed there instead. She also donated the money for the burned hall with the understanding that the village would be renamed to Rutherford.”
“Unbelievable! Simply unbelievable. The unmitigated gall that woman shows.”
“Connor, I hold no ill will toward your mother, but I do not want her involved in my life for the future. I hope you can understand that. If that means that I cannot be with you, then so it must be. I am sorry to put it this way, but you must make a choice. It is either to be her, or me.”
“Melody, there is no contest. I want you to be my wife and I would always put you ahead of my mother. I am her son, but my wife comes first. I must return to Tymington and confront her. I will deal with the fallout and then I will proceed to visit your mother and request her hand in marriage. Assuming you are in agreement?”
Melody nodded her head, a huge grin across her face as she threw her arms around Connor’s neck. He took advantage of this and pulled her head back, kissing her tenderly. Melody thought she would swoon right there in the carriage.
“I had thought to spend a few days in London, but after hearing this, I believe it better than I return immediately to resolve this with my mother. I must ask you, however, Melody, do you wish to remain in London?”
“Not necessarily, Connor. Of course, I came here as a retreat initially, but I will admit that my business has done well. That is not to say that I could not do equally well in Tymington, should the onus of your mother’s words be proven lies. At first, I thought London to be exciting and stimulating. I have since realized that it also rings hollow when it comes to many of the people I have met. They engage regularly in activities that I find distasteful. Lily seems to like it here, but I do not. However, it is my income.”
Conner laughed aloud. “Do not concern yourself with income, my future wife. I have more than enough to take care of you, myself, and any family we shall have.”
Melody’s face flushed at the thought of having children with him. She had never permitted herself to think that far ahead.
“You do want children, do you not, Melody?”
“Oh, yes, Conner; at least three.”
He pulled her close against him and whispered, “We shall begin with three and see where we go from there.”
Chapter 20
“Conner? Conner, is that you? My son! I am so glad you are home. I need you terribly and you have come just in time.”
“Hello, Mother,” he kissed her coolly on the cheek. “It is pleasant to know that I have come in time to once again serve you.”
“Conner! How dare you speak to me like that! Of course you are to help me—it is a son’s duty to look after his mother.”
“And when does the mother look after the son?” he responded tartly.
“What has come over you? You are barely in the door and such disrespect. Is that what they taught you at sea? To berate your poor widow mother?”
“You are neither poor nor helpless, Mother. Where is Mrs. Pinkerton.”
“Ohhhh! It was just as I told you. They behave themselves at the beginning and once you begin to relax, they rob you blind. I threw her out of the house.”
“What do you contend she stole?”
“Why, why, my best silver. It was right there in the drawer and when I went to count it, there was a spoon missing! Can you imagine? Biting the very hand that fed her?”
Conner walked over to the buffet and bent low, reaching beneath the low apron between the legs. He rose and held out a spoon. “Was it a spoon like this, Mother?” he asked, wagging it in her face.
“Why, wherever did you get that?” she cried out. “I imagine she stole it and when I accused her, she quickly threw it beneath the buffet. Just like her.”
“Or, perhaps, Mother, it was inadvertently dropped there from a tea tray or when she brought your dinner to the parlor? Or… is it possible, Mother, that it never went missing at all, but that you hid it there so you had an excuse to fire her?”
“Conner! How can you say such a thing? When did you become such a horrid son?”
“I am neither horrid, nor will I ever be. I have you to thank for that. You have set an example so horrendous as to be a shining beacon that I will forever avoid. Thank you for that, at least.”
Abigail’s face was a vivid red and she huffed and wheezed in indignation. “Why, I…”
“Oh, sit there, Mother, I have a few more things to say. I heard what you did to Melody. I heard the lies you spread and how you ruined her reputation. It might please you to know that she went to London and has built an amazing shop, despite you. Her creations are the talk of London, even in the palace.”
“Why, I…”
“Be quiet, Mother, I have not finished.” Conner was pacing the room, his ire fueling each step.
“I have asked Melody to be my wife, Mother. She has agreed, with the condition that you are not to be a part of our future in any way. You know what, Mother? I have no problem with that whatsoever. As a matter of fact, I would welcome your permanent absence.”
“Conner! What has come over you?”
“Something that should have happened years ago, Mother. Now, let us have a little talk about the town hall that burned. How odd that it alone fell to ashes. Not a building about it was touched. It reminds me strongly of a very similar event that took place where we lived before fleeing to Tymington. That’s right, I said Tymington. There you were, madam bountiful, offering to resurrect the building in return for turning the town’s square into a monument to my poor father and having the name change to Rutherford. How could you, Mother? How does you conscience allow you to do such horrid things?”
“Conner, I…”
“Sit, sit, Mother, I have not finished. On my way here, I stopped to secure a small apartment for you in London. You will get a small stipend and if you are careful, and do not waste it on hiring servants you have no need of, you may just be able to survive. I will check in on you from time to time, but you will not be invited to my home. You will not see Melody or the children we will have. I am strong enough to escape you but they may not be. It is time for you to learn humility—piety and to be grateful for what you have and most of all, how to help others who are less fortunate. I want to see you helping among the poor—I care not how or what you do, but I had better see proof of it or I will suspend the stipend.”
“You cannot do that! I have your father’s money to support me!”
“Oh, indeed, I can, Mother. Father’s money ran through your fingers long ago. I have been supporting you myself the past few years and I will continue to do so as long as you abide by my rules. Do I make myself understood?”
Abigail’s face had taken on a haughty look. “You have no control over me, you monster, she growled.
“I have control over the purse strings and what is more, if you do not follow through with the plan I have just outlined, I will see to it that charges are brought up against you for arson, not just for here, but for the last town and the one before that. You and I both know your methods, Mother, and it will stop. You are indeed fortunate that I do not already have you in chains. You could have killed people, Mother. Do you not have any conscience at all?”
She fell silent, for she knew he spoke the truth. There was a long silence between them before she asked, “When?”
“The carriage to take you and the few belongings you will have room for will be here in three days. I suggest you get busy immediately packing. There will be no coming back. I will put this house up for sale, change the name of the town back to Tymington, remove that hideously ostentatious monument you had placed and replant a young oak tree in its place. Once you are out of town, you are not to return. You will not be invited to the wedding.”
“No matter, I would not wish to see you tied to that wretch, regardless,” she spat.
The muscle in Conner’s cheek twitched. “I warn you, old woman. Never let me hear you disrespect my future wife again
or there will be hell to pay. Do you understand?”
Abigail said nothing.
“Do you understand?” he shouted.
She nodded, almost meekly.
“Then get busy. I am staying at the inn on the other end of town and once I see your carriage leave, I will return here and have it emptied and put up for sale.”
His words were cold, but no colder than she deserved. Abigail had gloried in making others miserable for so long that she barely noticed what he was doing to her. She knew she had earned it and in one sense, she almost welcomed it as absolution. A London apartment? Well, there were possibilities, she supposed and as the door slammed behind Conner, she began looking about her, planning what she would take.
Chapter 21
Conner returned to London and took a small apartment for himself while he made the appropriate connections. He was, by profession, a barrister, although he had never opened an office. He intended to do so when they moved back to Tymington and he had it in the back of his mind to pursue a political career.
He watched over Melody with an adoration that made many jealous. She continued in her business, although he told her there was no need. She said it kept her busy. They could not marry until the period of mourning was past. She used this time to try new ideas and found that she enjoyed costuming most of all. With Lily’s help, she made some contacts in the theatre and soon, the house next door looked like the back stage of any London theatre.
Once his mother was gone, Conner took Melody back to Tymington for a visit to her mother and sister. The women were delighted to talk about the upcoming wedding and Johanna made the pronouncement that she was, again, with child.
Sylvia regained her health and it was then that Conner came up with a sound idea. He had his mother’s things removed from the house in town and presented himself at Sylvia’s farm one day with the deed in hand. He held it out to her.
“It would give me great pleasure if you would move into the house in the village, Mrs. Wellchester. Melody loves you and misses you and will need you as we begin our family. In the meantime, I thought perhaps Johanna and William might take over the farm until you have a more permanent plan. Surely, Johanna cannot travel in her condition and I know Melody will insist she stay until at least the wedding. Hopefully, they will make their home here again permanently.”
