His Remarkable Bride (3 page)

The train whistle squealed, jolting Elspeth out of her all-consuming thoughts. She hadn’t felt the train slowing, so it came as something of a surprise to find the vast wilderness of Wyoming giving way to a growing town outside her window. Throughout the train car, people were standing to retrieve their bags and ready themselves to disembark.

“Haskell! Haskell, Wyoming!” The porter at the far end of the car called out.

Elspeth sucked in a breath, pressing a hand over her wriggling stomach. There was a family out there who needed her. Eight children was a lot, but she was up to the challenge. This was the right decision. This
had
to be the right decision. After more than half a decade of truly deplorable decisions, one of them had to be right.

She smoothed her gloved hands over her skirt and stood, scooting into the aisle so that she could retrieve her carpetbag from the rack above the seat. Her mother certainly wouldn’t think risking everything to move out into the middle of the American frontier and marry a man sight unseen was a good decision. She would lecture Elspeth about how, as the daughter of a marquis, she was destined for much better things. Although Elspeth failed to see how being maneuvered into marrying some titled lord that she might have danced with once or twice in order to secure someone’s line or fortune was any worse of a decision than becoming a mail-order bride. What her mother didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her…and seeing as Elspeth’s entire family had completely severed ties with her five years ago, she never would know.

The train whistle shrieked a final time as the train jerked to a stop. The writhing in Elspeth’s stomach grew. Thinking about the family that had disowned her wasn’t going to help her face the family that waited for her in this remote, new town. The past was the past, and any sort of step she took to get away from it was a step in the right direction.

“Need help there, missy?” the porter asked as Elspeth adjusted the grip on her carpetbag.

“No, thank you, sir.” She nodded, back straight, chin as high as she felt she deserved to lift it.

The porter’s brow flew up. “Not from around these parts are you, ma’am?”

Undoubtedly, he was referring to what was left of her English accent, but she answered, “I am lately from Nashville, Tennessee.”

The porter chuckled. “Well, you don’t sound like any Tennessean I’ve ever heard.” He stepped out of her way, extending an arm toward the front of the car as if inviting Elspeth on a stroll through Hyde Park. “Best of luck, ma’am.”

“And you as well.” She tried to smile as she nodded at the man. He continued to chuckle, probably at her manners this time. Some habits refused to leave a person, though. Her governess had taught her deportment when she was young, and for the past six years, she’d been attempting to teach it to the children she was hired to tutor.

Elspeth would have been much more confident in her abilities if any of those children had taken to her lessons. She squared her shoulders and marched toward the train car’s door. Perhaps the Strong children would be well-mannered souls who would soak up the lessons of her childhood the way she and her siblings had instead of being grubby little rascals. It wasn’t that she disliked her previous charges, but with no references, a dubious history, and nothing to distinguish her aside from an accent that Americans considered distinguished, the only families she’d found work with were social-climbing new money with one foot still in the gutter or the back alley.

The Strong family would be different. Mrs. Breashears had assured her of it. Elspeth turned to step down from the train car and onto the platform with hope in her heart. This time, she really would make a go of things, really would start over. Mr. Athos Strong came highly recommended after all, and she was marrying him, not entering his employment. This time, things would—

“That’s her! I know that’s her,” a child shouted.

“She looks just like Mrs. Breashears said she would,” a second, older child added.

“Hurray! Hurray for our new mother!” a third whooped.

More young shouts followed, and before Elspeth could get her bearings and assess the situation, a mob of eight children rushed her. Four or five of the youngest of the bunch slammed into her, nearly knocking her off her feet as they hugged, grabbed, and clutched her.

Elspeth yelped before she could stop herself. She dropped her bag and was bowled back several feet by the clinging crowd of happy youngsters.

“Your dress is so soft!”

“You’re just as pretty as I knew you’d be.”

“I’m going to be your favorite, I just know it.”

“Papa, Papa! Come and look!”

A chorus of voices and motion buzzed around her as Elspeth panted to catch her breath.

“You
vagrants
step back and leave her alone,” a slightly older girl scolded the younger ones.

“Papa, they’re going to smother her,” a second girl, who looked to be the first one’s twin, added.

Elspeth scrambled to remember the list of names Mrs. Breashears had given her. The twins must be Ivy and Heather. The littlest one—presently clinging to her skirt—was Thomas. The second set of twin girls were Geneva and Millicent. That meant the two boys who had hugged her and backed off must be Lael and Vernon, and the young man who stood on the fringes of the group wearing a grin on his pimply face must be Hubert. Good gracious! A paper list of names was one thing. A crush of children was another.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry.” An older woman in a moss-green riding dress with a fetching hat perched on her silver hair stepped forward, wedging her way between the children. “This lot always has been…exuberant. I’m Virginia Piedmont.”

Virginia thrust out her hand with as much exuberance as any of the children.

“Isn’t she pretty, Mrs. Piedmont?” one of the younger twin girls asked.

“Did somebody pick up her bag?” the boy who must have been Vernon shouted.

“Will you read me a story?” Thomas asked, eyes as big as moons.

“I…I…”

“Children, step back. Give Miss Leonard some air.”

The final command was given by a man who stood on the edges of the scene wearing a stationmaster’s uniform. He crushed a round, black hat in his hands and shifted his weight from foot to foot as he looked on. His sandy-blond hair framed a round face with soft, hazel eyes. Elspeth had hardly noticed him, but she knew in an instant that he must be Athos Strong. Her husband-to-be.

“Do as your papa says and give Miss Leonard some space,” Virginia declared. She shooed the kids as if they were cattle, with a bright smile and a teasing wink. As soon as they’d all backed up by several feet—Thomas only stepping away unwillingly from where he had grabbed onto Elspeth’s skirt—Virginia let out a happy breath. “Welcome to Haskell.”

At last, an interaction that had some sort of context in Elspeth’s experience. She belatedly took Virginia’s hand. “Thank you. I am most pleased to be here.”

“Ooh, did you hear the way she talks, Papa?” the other of the younger twin girls asked, turning to her father.

“Yes, I did, sweetness.” Athos smiled and rested a hand on his daughter’s head.

A small portion of the tension that had been growing in Elspeth’s whole body released. Athos smiled at his daughter, at all of his children, with such kindness and affection that emotion squeezed her throat. Her own parents would never have dared show such attention in public. Anyone who showed that much consideration for children must be a gentleman, and she was not afraid to marry a gentleman. Not after being buffeted about by so many un-gentlemanly men.

“Well then,” Virginia went on, throwing up her hands. “The timing of this whole introduction has been blown to smithereens, so there’s no point in beating around the bush. Elspeth Leonard, I’d like you to meet Athos Strong. Athos, here’s Elspeth, your bride.”

Virginia stepped out of the way, clearing the space between Elspeth and Athos. Elspeth stiffened her spine and called on all of her courage to face the man she’d pledged to marry. Only instead of marching up to her and laying claim on her in any way, Athos Strong stood where he was, a bashful flush coming to his cheeks and a warm smile lighting his face. Another measure of the anxiety that the entire journey had built up in Elspeth melted away. The man was shy.

“Go on, Papa,” one of the older twins whispered.

“She’s waiting,” the second twin added.

Together, the two of them pushed his back, causing Athos to take a faltering step forward. The other children giggled.

That simple action seemed to break the spell. Athos cleared his throat and shook himself, then walked amiably forward, extending his hand. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Miss Leonard.”

Once again, Elspeth found herself on familiar footing. She could do this. She’d met new men in ballrooms and drawing rooms across London all the time. She could greet a widowed father on a train platform on the frontier.

“Call me Elspeth, please.” She took his hand with her gloved one and began to execute a perfect curtsy before grasping how inappropriate that was. “We are to be married, after all.”

“Yes.” Athos’s expression lit even more. He tightened his hand around hers in a handshake that showed his strength and his tenderness. After he let go of her hand, he continued to smile at her without moving.

“I think Papa likes her,” the younger of the two middle boys, Lael, whispered.

“I like her,” Thomas said in full voice.

Athos laughed and backed up, shaking himself out of whatever thoughts he’d had. “Miss—Elspeth, I’d like you to meet my pride and joy, my wild brood of scamps and ruffians.”

“Papa!”

“We are not!”

“No fair!” The children protested, laughing.

“This is my eldest, Hubert.” Athos crossed to the other side of the cluster of children to the young man with pimples. He then turned to the older set of twins. “And these are my little ladies, Ivy and Heather. This one over here is Vernon.” He moved on to ruffle the next boy’s hair. “And this is Lael. These two misses are Geneva and Millicent.” He squeezed each of their shoulders as he named them. “And this little ragamuffin is Thomas.”

“I’m the youngest,” Thomas announced, then shot on into, “My mama died when I was born.”

Tension seized the entire group. It gradually dissolved as Athos laughed nervously. “I’m sure there will be plenty of time to talk about that later. But right now, I believe Rev. Pickering is expecting us over at the church. Are you ready?”

“Yes!”

“We are!”

“Let’s go!” The children rang out in chorus.

“He was asking Miss Leonard,” Hubert informed the others.

Another chorus of, “Ohh,” followed.

In spite of the shock of the situation, Elspeth laughed. They truly were a sweet bunch of children, even if they did come at her like a hurricane.

“You may call me Elspeth as well,” she told them, clasping her hands in front of her as she did when she was teaching.

“Not Mama?” Millicent asked.

Elspeth blinked, startled. “Well…I…I suppose…” She glanced to Athos for help.

“Let’s head over to the church first and we’ll figure out the rest of it later,” he said. “Elspeth?” He offered his arm as if he wasn’t used to escorting women and wasn’t sure that was still the way things were done. He didn’t seem to know what to say to her either.

The children rushed ahead of them and lingered behind, chattering to each other, chasing after a dog that they were apparently friends with who had trotted by the platform to see what was going on, and ran this way and that. There was so much motion and commotion that Elspeth’s head spun. She supposed she should ask about her luggage, whether it would be removed from the train, or whether Athos had stationmaster duties he should attend to since the train was there, but a pair of non-uniformed men seemed to be taking care of things. Virginia walked with them, but her attention was taken up as Ivy and Heather asked her about horses.

They had traveled half the distance to the whitewashed church set back from the tracks and surrounded by a well-maintained yard, and Elspeth still couldn’t think of a thing to say.

“Afternoon, Athos,” a handsome man in a buckskin vest with a sly look called out as they passed. He stood talking to a handsomely-dressed but sad-looking woman.

“Morning, Sam, Bonnie,” Athos replied with a wave.

The sad woman, Bonnie, smiled, the smile not quite reaching her eyes. “Is this your mail-order bride, arrived at last?”

Athos paused long enough to say, “Yes it is. This is Miss Elspeth Leonard. Elspeth, this is Miss Bonnie Horner, who owns the, uh, um, an establishment in town.”

“How do you do?” Elspeth greeted the woman, ignoring her confusion at the way Athos had introduced her. Going by his words alone, Bonnie should be someone disreputable, but she was dressed as conservatively as a preacher’s wife and no one seemed to bat an eye at her.

“I do just fine, Miss Leonard,” Bonnie answered.

“And this is Sam Standish,” Athos went on. “He owns the town’s saloon.”

“Ma’am.” Sam touched the brim of his hat.

“Mr. Standish.” Elspeth inclined her head to him.

“Did that train bring my shipment of whiskey?” Sam asked.

“Uh.” Athos twisted to look over his shoulder. “You’ll have to ask Travis and Freddy. They’re unloading it for me. I’ve got a…well—” He glanced at Elspeth and grinned. “We’re due at the church,” Athos said, then continued down the street. The children and Virginia had slipped ahead of them, and Athos hurried as if he should keep up.

“I hope it doesn’t bother you that I’m friends with people like Bonnie and Sam,” he continued as they walked.

“Bother me? Why should it?” Elspeth blinked.

“Well, most respectable woman—like Mrs. Kline at the mercantile or the Plovers or the Bonneville sisters—don’t think it’s right to associate with a saloon owner or a whoremonger.” He missed a step, his face going red. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be using language like that around you.”

Elspeth nodded slowly. So that’s what Bonnie’s profession was. A flush of her own splashed Elspeth’s cheeks. Her mother would have insisted she shun that sort of woman, but when it came down to it, Elspeth didn’t have a moral leg to stand on there. At least Haskell was accepting of people of all sorts.