To Have and to Hold

by Lily Holland

  “Shall we go back to the drawing room? Lord Thorner might be wondering where we have wandered off.”

  She nods and a shy smile appears on her lips.

  “Sure.”

  She takes my arm and we head to the drawing room. Voices reach us as we progress further down the corridor and a strange feeling fills my belly. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t like it.

  Charity and I walk into the room and we share a timid smile, probably the effect of being engaged while no one else but us knows. We will keep it that way until Charity talks it over with her mother and I’ll present the older lady with my honors.

  We’ve just walked through the door and the remnant of the smile on my lips totally disappears. I freeze a few feet in the room and my entire body tenses. Charity, surprised, shoots me a wondering gaze, my arm on which her small hand rests unwillingly pressing more firmly against my chest. She follows my eyes and I feel her tensing in her turn.

  “Lord Feaston! Miss Aston! Here you are, look who was kind enough to call for tea!”

  I nod at Lord Thorner’s voice but my eyes are set on someone else. An elegant and beautiful woman takes a step toward me and Charity and she smiles. The same smile, the same perfect face that sends daggers through my heart.

  “Long time no see, Lord Feaston,” declares Lady Selina Knightley, former Miss Heathfield.

  I try to talk but my voice dies, stuck at the huge lump in my throat.

  “Lady Knightley,” says Charity on a timid yet welcoming voice. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

  The two women share a benevolent gaze and I still can’t talk.

  “I could say the same, Miss Aston.”

  I feel I might have just turned dumb when I sense Charity’s other hand raising to rest on my arm too. She must feel my dismay, must sense that I need help and a shield against Selina because her hands on my arm are a way of saying ‘he is mine’ to the woman in front of us.

  Her reinsurance works wonders and I find back my almost usual voice.

  “Lady Knightley, this is a surprise.”

  I glance at Lord Thorner who nods and appears pleased but I know some of the other men feel embarrassed, those who knew of my courting Selina do anyway.

  “Indeed it is,” declares Lord Thorner. “We weren’t expecting you back in London so soon.”

  Selina flashes a beautiful smile to the assembly before shaking her head softly.

  “We are not back per say,” she explains in a soft and gentle voice. “Charles had some business in town that could not wait.”

  “And he decided he couldn’t spend a week without you, that’s fitting his character.”

  “It is,” replies Selina offering Mrs. Aston a warm grin for her words. “My dear husband decided we were never to be separated, even a week won’t do.”

  “That is very romantic of him,” says Charity softly and I sense the hint of envy in her tone.

  “He is a very romantic man, I must admit. I am lucky to have him.”

  A new gigantic, bright smile stretches Selina’s lips and Lady Thorner invites us all to sit down for tea.

  I have a hard time focusing on the conversation but somehow Charity’s presence by my side helps me keep on an even face. I don’t want to lose my composure while Selina is in the same room. She seems so happy, so free in a way that I don’t recall ever seeing her like that. When we used to spend time together during social events, she was always smiling, always proper, shy only when the situation called for it and friendly at most times. Yet, something was amiss with her, like all the joy in her world had been drained out of her. And then she disappeared in the middle of a party only to come back an hour later her hands over Charles Knightley’s arm. That evening, I had just offered her to marry me, her refusal was so unexpected that I didn’t even sleep at all that night.

  I vaguely listen as Charity converses with Lord Thorner about the book we have been admiring in his library. I glimpse at her as she talks and, secretly, compare her to Selina chatting idly with Mrs. Aston and Lady Thorner. Where Charity is passionate and her eyes gleaming with a love for boats, Selina is the living incarnation of peace; she seems happy, truly and deeply satisfied with everything in her life.

  Would she have been that satisfied if she had married me instead of Charles? I will never know. Maybe not.

  That’s when it hits me hard. The look on her face at the time when I courted her, is it close to the one I am displaying now? Was she heartbroken? Her, the beautiful and rich Selina Heathfield, only heiress to so large a fortune even a king might have wooed her? It would explain a lot. But then, if her heart was set on Charles and she loved him enough to be heartbroken, then I had no chance at all. Would she have married me if Charles hadn’t proposed that night? Something tells me she would have. She would have and she would have looked like me right now, about to marry someone nice but not someone she loved.

  I shake my head as I refocus on Charity’s voice. We are engaged now, she said yes. I should be focusing on her, her words, her moves, her ideas about the world. I have to find it in me to become interested in this nice girl.

  As if she senses my internal struggle, she turns to me and offers me a pure smile, one of the likes she has never offered me before. I smile back and help her put her cup back on the table.

  I have to focus on Charity Aston. Charity, the kind girl, the girl I proposed to and who actually said yes. I have to forget about Selina and her new found happiness that nothing can seem to touch. I want to find this happiness too and I will. I will find it in Charity and I will forget my broken heart even if I have to carve it out of my chest myself.

  Chapter 3

  Charity

  After two weeks, my engagement to Lord Feaston is announced and people are pleased. Most of them look at the match with satisfaction but I’m not blind, I know they must be speaking behind his back, saying he is marrying a penniless title.

  And the truth is, he is! I don’t have anything to offer him but me, and that seems to satisfy him.

  I go to the window and gaze at the fields. Lord Feaston invited me and Mama to his estate, the magnificent ground of Mooreshire, and it is as gorgeous as I might have expected it to be. Acres and acres of green lawn and forests, a pretty garden with all the flowers anyone might wish for, this place is amongst the most beautiful I have ever seen.

  I smile as Lord Feaston comes in and he smiles back. He hasn’t changed his behavior too much toward me since we got engaged. He is always friendly, very proper, kind sometimes and he never does anything that might make me feel uncomfortable. He has never kissed me either, I suppose he wishes to keep this form of attention for when we will be married. I try not to think too much about it.

  He joins me by the window and points at a specific hill.

  “We might go to Townscape tomorrow if you feel like it,” he says in a friendly tone. “It is a beautiful place and I am sure Mrs. Landon will be pleased to meet you.”

  I nod and smile happily.

  “I would love this. Your estate is so amazing, I love the countryside, it makes me forget London’s wretched smell.”

  He chuckles as he nods his head.

  “Indeed, I love it too here.”

  In my happy moment, I detail his face and his eyes lose sight of the outside to lock with mine. We are quite close and I keep on smiling, my eyes slowly detailing his face as my heart thumps in my chest. My gaze glides to his lips and, when I look back to his eyes, a slight frown appears on his face and he clears his throat, looking back to the green land outside, embarrassment making his fists clench into balls.

  “Maybe tomorrow won’t be a good day for such a walk,” he says suddenly lost on the study of the sky. “I fear it might start raining very soon.”

  I swallow back the hint of shame that makes my insides twist and I nod with a smile.

  “Yes, we will have to wait tomorrow morning to judge of the weather.”

  “Yes.”

  I look at the dark clouds above m
y fiancé’s estate and I focus back on my preparation for the wedding.

  ◆◆◆

  After a few weeks, everything has been done accordingly to the rules. We have called the banns, everything is ready for the reception and the license has been bought. In a few days, I will be Lady Charity Feaston. I try to get my mind around the idea and I love it, it has a nice ring to it.

  I make my way to the stables as the sky is clear and bright. It is a beautiful spring day and I dearly want to go take a walk on horseback.

  Ever since we have arrived here in Mooreshire, I have been passionate about Lord Feaston’s horses. They are so beautiful, strong and well-bred animals, even my fiancé had to admit he loved them.

  “I bought this mare five years ago when I became the Earl of this estate. She looks like one of her eyes is short-sighed but it is not so. She can outrun any given champion.”

  The glint in his eyes as he talked made me realize the animal meant more to him than the others. At that very specific moment, I remember I wanted to ask him more about his father, about his family, his past, everything in his life, but I didn’t want to be pressing, so I didn’t say a thing.

  I climb up on Marley’s back as Fabiola, Lord Feaston’s favorite mare, is restive for lack of exertion.

  “Don’t worry,” I tell her, gripping the reins of my mount. “I’ll convince him to come and ride with me one of these days. I’m sure he’ll be picking you.”

  The horse doesn’t understand a word I say but I like to believe she does, so I detect what I consider a wink and I lead my mount to the open field.

  I love riding, but I have never been able to enjoy it as much before. When my father died ten years ago, so did our money and it passed onto my cousin as well as my father’s title. He didn’t let my mother and me to starve, but we have never had enough money to have horses for the sport. We usually rented one when we needed our manservant to go to town or we would travel by post.

  That my fiancé has enough money to sustain such a large estate is nothing to disregard. Of course I am pleased with the situation, but there is still something amiss in this marriage agreement that it doesn’t feel natural. The more I think about it, the more I realize it is an arranged marriage, supposed to be beneficial to the two of us. He wants a wife and the promise of an heir to his estate and I want a situation where I won’t fear being poor and no longer young one of these coming days.

  I peek at my mother as I go back to the stables on Marley’s back. A few minutes later, I join her in the garden. She is reviewing the hyacinth and I join her stroll.

  “You had yet another horseback session I reckon,” she says kindly.

  I nod.

  “It feels amazing to be riding again. I love the effect of the speed.”

  My mother laughs and shakes her head.

  “Maybe you do but your hair might not be saying the same.”

  I frown as I fix my hair quickly.

  “Tell me, Mama, do you have to be leaving the estate as soon as I am married? I thought maybe you would like to remain here a little bit longer.”

  My mother opens big wide eyes and shakes her head furiously.

  “Remain longer after the wedding? Nonsense my love, you and your husband will need the privacy of this home. He said yesterday you are not to go on a honeymoon for a while, I wouldn’t like to be standing in the way by remaining here.”

  I nod slowly and gaze at my feet. We walk a few paces and decide to sit on a white bench looking out on the beautiful arrangement of flowers in the garden.

  “It is lovely.”

  “Yes, it is, my dear, very lovely indeed.”

  I sigh and close my eyes.

  “This place is wonderful Mama but I… I don’t know if it’s right.”

  My mother turns to me and studies my face.

  “What isn’t right?”

  “This… This wedding. Me marrying Lord Feaston, I wonder if it is right, if it is fair. To him as well as to me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I sigh again before studying the valley beyond the garden and the edge of the forest making it look darker than it really is.

  “Lord Feaston is rich, he is a nice man, I can tell, he is good-looking and young and has a good temper.”

  “It seems to me you are describing the perfect man,” exclaims my mother with a laugh.

  “It does,” I say with a smile. “However, there is something that bothers me. I like him, I feel I do hold him dearly in my heart and my feelings for him grow every day, but he is…”

  “Undemonstrative?”

  I shudder at my mother’s word before agreeing and looking down at the floor.

  “He is in love with someone else, Mama, with someone he can never have but that he wants.”

  “I see.”

  “I should cancel the wedding,” I say taking a snail off the bench to place it in the grass. “I think it’s the best thing to do for both of us. How can he be happy if he doesn’t love his own wife? How could I ever be happy knowing that he isn’t?”

  My mother doesn’t speak for a few minutes and we both think hard on the words I have just uttered.

  “Well, I only want for you to be happy, my love, you know that. However, Charity, there is something you should not forget. Love is a complex thing.”

  I snort.

  “Mother, please.”

  “But it is true! Love is a complex thing and while some people will hate each other for their entire lives, others will love with an equal passion. I know you don’t love him as you would like to, you are young, Charity, and you have the heart full of passion and romantic views. I don’t blame you, I was the same at your age, but you have to consider your own situation here.”

  “I’m poor and he is rich.”

  “You are a titled Lady, daughter of a great lineage of Counts and Dukes and you have an ancient name. However, the circumstances are such that you don’t have the money of your position. Oh, believe me, I am the first to be saddened by it but it is the truth. Lord Feaston, as you pointed out, is rich and young and kind and good-looking. He will make a fine husband and I believe you are lucky he considers marrying you.”

  Opposite to what my mother expected with her speech, her words only bring tears to my eyes.

  “So?” I wonder, knowing all too well the words that are about to come out of her mouth.

  “So, I believe you marrying Lord Feaston is the right decision. It doesn’t matter if he is in love with someone else, or with no one at all for that matter, the important thing here is that he is offering you the opportunity of becoming his wife, his companion. Do you figure you will be the mistress of this grand estate, this great domain? Don’t waste away an occasion to preserve yourself from the troubles of life, my darling. I know this is probably not the match you would have hoped for, or at least not in these circumstances, but things might change soon. A man’s heart can change its course, he will surely fall in love with you sooner than later.”

  I wipe my sleeve across my face to cover the few tears that pearled on my cheeks.

  “That,” I say sniffing my tears away, “that I doubt very much. He is very taken with the other woman. I don’t think I can ever equal her importance in his mind.”

  “I am sure you can, my darling. He will soon realize what is his is better than what he can never have.”

  She pats my knee and I offer her a feeble smile.

  “I hope you are right, Mama, I truly hope so.”

  Chapter 4

  Charity

  Our wedding day comes so quickly I barely have time to realize what is happening. We attend church and recite our classic vows and the parson declares us husband and wife. We sign the registry in a little room and, because his father did when he got married and he wishes to continue the tradition, Lord Feaston kisses me on the mouth.

  I am surprised at such a demonstrative move from him, so much that I don’t enjoy the moment. I don’t know if his lips are soft or not, I don’t notice any p
eculiar warmth in the embrace either. He is performing a duty, doing what he thinks must be done. It makes me scared and, at the same time, it makes me happy. Kissing the bride isn’t something common, the parson usually doesn’t like it and gives nasty glances to the impertinent couples, but here, and because Lord Feaston—John, I have to learn to call him John—is the main donor of the parish, the parson doesn’t make too much of this expression of love.

  But is it one though? I have my doubts but right now I am too unsettled to think about it.

  When the feast stops and the night reaches its end, I realize I have barely exchanged three words with my new husband, those being the traditional vows. I look at him from afar. He is talking with a tall, grey-haired man very well dressed to show his own station in life. I study my husband’s face and what I see doesn’t please me. He looks… flat. There is nothing on his face that might say he is happy or unhappy. This is our wedding day, he could at least smile but he doesn’t. Not now, probably not ever.

  The thought of it makes me shudder and I gaze away from the depressed husband that will be my major companion in life from now on.

  I glance at the clock when everybody is gone and I realize I fear what is to come. Marrying him might have been a mistake after all. I don’t know what I have just got myself into, this man doesn’t love me, that I know, but what do men who don’t love their wives do to them?

  A new shiver runs down my spine as I repress unflattering thoughts and focus on the soft ticking of the clock.

  I feel I might soon fall asleep on my book if I don’t go to bed at once. Afraid of what it might bring but hopeful that I might be wrong, I stand up and put my book on the table.

  “I shall go to bed,” I announce and he nods but I notice his jaw clenching.

  “You are right,” he remarks, “it is getting late. I shall join you.”

  A new wave of goosebumps covers my skin but I swallow at the lump in my throat and I do my best to keep a cool mind. I am his wife, after all. I know what awaits me, I shouldn’t be shaking that way.