Authors: Rose Gordon
“Would he be taking these lessons from you, Mother?” Gabriel asked.
Mother whipped her head around to pin Gabriel with a sharp stare.
He seemed unaffected. “It would seem to me that you're not exactly an expert in this particular subject, given that your only son cannot abide you and stayed away an additional five years after the war was over just to avoid you; and your daughter ran off in the middle of the night with someone you disapprove of. It seems to me, you're in no position to be giving any sort of parenting advice.”
The room grew eerily quiet. Nobody could argue the truth in his words—as unpleasant as it might be.
But that wasn't enough to stop Mother. She might be embarrassed, but she wasn't the type to be so easily deterred. For as annoying as it was that Mother was argumentative and oozed spiteful condemnation, she didn't let what people said or did cow her, and that was one trait Carolina
did
respect. “As truthful, yet tactless, as your words might be, at least
my
children were taught the importance of a proper introduction.”
Carolina nearly sputtered with laughter. Mother could be proven a fool again if Carolina were to mention to the room the details of her belated introduction to John.
“Well then, allow me to correct your misconception that the Banks family is so ill-bred we do not bother with introductions,” Edward said. He erected himself to full height. “My name is Edward Christopher Banks, the seventeenth Baron of Watson.” He removed his gray hat and gave a low bow, then put it back on and motioned to his wife. “This is my wife, Regina, Lady Watson and my son, the honorable Alexander Banks. And of course, you've already met my brother the honorable John Banks.”
Mother's face went whiter than any sheet Carolina had ever seen. “Y-you're nobility?” she stammered, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.
Carolina didn't know a thing about English nobility, but if they could reduce her tart-tongued, shrew of a mother into a bumbling idiot, they were a good thing, indeed.
“No, madam, I
was
born of noble blood; these days I'm more commonly styled as an English vagrant.” John's voice lacked any hint of emotion, belying the storm of rage Carolina glimpsed in his eyes.
Mother waved her hand in the air, favoring him with a coy smile. “Oh, do be serious. You've become part of our little family. We just didn't know you brought such noble relations with you.”
“Part of your family?” John echoed.
A sound akin to an owl's screech—but was actually just Mother's obnoxious, forced laughter—filled the room. “Of course you're part of our family. You married our Carolina, didn't you?” As if suddenly remembering that Carolina and John weren't really married, she blushed. “About that; I'm thinking we should have the wedding here on the plantation.” She turned to John's brother and sister-in-law. “You will be in attendance, won't you?”
“No,” John said before either of them could answer, his voice hard and abrupt. He squeezed Carolina's hand, as a silent assurance of something, but she didn't know what, then abruptly let go and crossed his arms. “They won't be here. As you've already said, I am an unsuitable choice for your daughter. As such, I regret to inform you of this, but there won't be a wedding to plan because Carolina and I won't be getting married.”
~Chapter Twenty-Five~
“What the devil are you doing?” Edward called after John just before he reached the barn.
“Looking for the horse you rode in on.” John didn't know why Edward had come across the ocean to see him, but whatever the reason, he was glad as it created the perfect opportunity for him.
Edward grabbed his arm and spun him around. “Damn. That's not as easy as it was the last time I saw you.”
John chuckled. “Hard work will add weight to a man.”
“At least, it's the good kind,” Edward said, taking in John's solid frame. “You're not the boy I remember.”
“No. I'm not. I've callused my hands and tired my body doing the work of a man.”
“That might be,” Edward conceded. “But you're still acting like a boy.”
John crossed his arms and leaned against the doorjamb of the barn. “How so?”
Edward raked a hand through his hair. “How can you ask that? You know as well as I do that you must marry her in truth. As a young man who once studied diligently to be a Man of God, you should know that having slept with her you are as good as married to her in a moral sense.”
“I know,” John said with an overdone frown. “But legally, we're not.”
Edward's shrewd eyes narrowed on him and then he sighed. “Are you planning to haul her off in the night?”
“No,” John said, shaking his head. “I've already done that.”
“So then, you plan to rob that poor girl of a future?”
John snorted. “I doubt anyone could rob Carolina of anything she thinks she deserves.”
“Are you saying she doesn't deserve a life of being chained to you? Because I have to agree. Nobody should be made to suffer that torment,” he said with a grin.
“She might not find it such torment.”
Edward laughed. “Does she enjoy suffering, then?”
“More than most,” John muttered. “For weeks she chased after me.... The woman has no shame.” He laughed. “Even you couldn't embarrass her.”
“Don't challenge me,” Edward warned.
John waved him off. “That's a challenge I encourage you to accept, but I doubt that even you could find something that could rattle her.”
“And you married her? Willingly?”
John shook his head ruefully. “Yes; willingly.”
“I must say that I'm not surprised.”
“Not surprised?” John scoffed. “She's everything I once said I didn't wish to marry.”
“Then why did you?”
John flashed his brother a grin. “I didn't.”
“But you thought you did,” Edward pointed out. “For all of your schemes and nonsense, I know better than to believe you knowingly didn't marry her.”
“No. I didn't.” John used his thumbnail to idly pick at the splintering wood of the barn. “She might not be meek and quiet, and she's certainly not always proper. But she is true.”
“True?”
John nodded. “Carolina has the ability to be the most annoying creature I've ever encountered with her constant talking and pressing need to be in the middle of everything; but unlike any other lady who does that, Carolina's being genuine.”
“And little Rebecca Klammer wasn't?” Edward teased.
John scowled. “We were six. That doesn't count.”
“She seemed to be quite taken with you—even if you were only six.”
“And catching bugs,” John added. “That's the difference. Rebecca acted like a monkey inhaling nitrous oxide
because
she was six and starved for attention. Carolina does it because that's who she is. She might overdo some things—” like bringing him water while he was outside working— “just to put herself in a position to be noticed. But her words and emotions, they're real.”
Edward didn't look convinced.
“It's difficult to explain in words, Edward. But I know when she does those things, it's not meant to annoy someone into paying attention to her. It's because she's being genuine. She's genuinely happy or distraught. She's not just looking for someone to pay her mind, she wants to help. There's a difference.”
“If you say so,” Edward said with a frown. “I don't see it, but if you do, then who am I to pass judgement?”
John clenched his hands into fists. There was a difference; he just couldn't find the right words to explain it. No matter. Edward's words had nothing to do with Carolina, he was merely poking fun at John for his long ago vow never to marry a young lady who enjoyed being heard in addition to being seen.
“She has this intense loyalty like I've never seen before,” he tried again.
“Regina's loyal,” Edward defended.
“Of course she is,” John allowed, “to you. And you're loyal to her. But Carolina's loyalty is different.”
“You mean, because it's to you?”
“Of course; but it's not just that.” He sighed. He wasn't doing any better explaining her loyalty to all of those she loved than he'd explained why Carolina's dramatic personality didn't bother him. “Yes, she's loyal to me. But she's loyal to everyone she cares about.”
A shadow crossed Edward's face. “I don't know what your plan is here, but I pray that you do because if what you say about her is true and she's genuine and loyal and all that, then you need her far more than you know.”
“I have everything well-in-hand, thank you,” John said stiffly, annoyed at the way his brother still seemed to think him incapable of making good decisions. “Why is it that you're here anyway?”
“Because you weren't in Boston,” Edward said, his voice devoid of its usual softness.
“You know what I mean.”
Edward closed his eyes for an extended blink. When he opened them again, the mirth and laughter that usually filled Edward's blue eyes were gone, replaced with uncertainty. A fist formed in John's gut in anticipation of what his brother would say.
“The archbishop came to see me the month before last,” Edward said.
“Is he requesting I return and begin my tenure?”
“Not exactly.”
John's gut clenched tighter. Had he been away so long that the archbishop gave his position to someone else? “Then what did he say?”
Edward took a deep breath. “He regrets to inform you that he will no longer be able to find placement for you. Ever.”
The blood thundered in John's ears. This could only be the result of one thing. “Who told him?”
“I don't know. A story surfaced in London at the start of the Season.”
“Was I mentioned?”
Edward shoved his hands into his pockets. “Not by name. But there were enough hints given to leave no doubt of your involvement.”
“All of my involvement?” John asked hopefully.
“I don't think so.”
“You don't think so? How do you not know?”
“You know that I don't read scandal sheets,” Edward said with a frown. “I didn't even know the story had gotten out until I started asking around after my visit with the archbishop.”
John shut his eyes and leaned his head against the doorframe. “I suppose it won't change his mind if I explain everything?”
“I don't think so.”
John rubbed the bridge of his nose. Once more, the thoughtless actions of his fourteen-year-old self were coming back to haunt him and ruin his life—and now Carolina's, too. “I suppose I'll just have to stay on this side of the ocean, then.”
“You don't have to,” Edward offered. “There are many younger sons who have no occupation.”
“Absolutely not. I will not live on your generosity, Edward,” John burst out. “I am perfectly capable of providing for myself. Or have I not proved that to you already?”
“You have. Your open refusal of the money I put into an account for you was quite enough to convince me that you are able to take care of yourself. But John, this isn't just about you anymore. Soon, you'll be married, and I don't think I need to tell you what follows a happy marriage in a matter of months.”
John scowled. “I'm well aware of what my responsibilities will be, but I have no desire to allow my older brother to provide for my family when I'm perfectly capable of doing so.”
“All right,” Edward said slowly. “Do you have an idea of how you'll do that?”
“Join the military.”
Edward's lips thinned into a line. “I hope that's not your idea of a jest, because it wasn't the slightest bit humorous.”
John shrugged. “I wasn't trying to be. At least as a widow of a member of the military, she'd have a pension.”
“She's about to be a widow of a thickheaded, unemployed younger son of a baron if you're not careful.”
“Actually, if that happens too soon, she won't be anybody's widow,” John pointed out.
“John, you are intending to do something about that, aren't you?”
John drummed his fingers on the wood at his side. “You know me, Edward. I'm always planning
something
.”
“May the Lord have mercy on us all.”
~Chapter Twenty-Six~
“Might I have a word with you, sir?” John asked as Mr. Ellis wheeled himself into his room.
Mr. Ellis looked startled at first but nodded his consent. “Is this about Lina?”
Now it was John's turn to nod. “It's about our getting married.”
“Don't you think that considering the situation this conversation is irrelevant?” Carolina's father asked with a sadness in his eyes John couldn't begin to understand.
“Perhaps a tad belated, but not entirely irrelevant,” John said easily.
Mr. Ellis sighed. “I think you'd better speak to her mother, then. She seems to be the one who's taken a keen interest in Carolina's marriage prospects.”
“I don't want to speak to her mother. I want to speak to you.”
“I can't fault you there,” he said with a smile. “She wasn't always so bad, you know.”
No, he didn't know. Nor did he care to. Whatever happiness Mr. Ellis thought was buried deep, deep inside Mrs. Ellis was of no account to John. “About Carolina; I'd like to marry her if you're agreeable.”
“You would, would you?”
John pressed his lips together and nodded.
“All right, then, for what it's worth, you have my permission.”
John sneered at his offhanded tone. “Do you not care more for your daughter than to marry her off to the first bounder who asks?”
Mr. Ellis roared with laughter. “Do you think I have a choice?”
“Yes. You are still the head of this family, are you not? Is your name not on the deed of this plantation? Is it not you who owns every piece of property on this land?”
Mr. Ellis waved his remaining hand through the air. “What I meant is that my daughter has a mind of her own and a will made of iron. I learned long ago that it wouldn't matter if I gave my permission or not, she'd do as she pleased. And I do believe she'd do whatever you ask her to do.”
“I'm pleased to hear that, but I haven't asked her yet.”
“She's in her room. I trust you know the way there,” he said with a slight twist to his lips.
John's cheeks flushed. “I apologize for not doing this the right way the first time.”
“No need to apologize, Mr. Banks. God willing, one day, you too shall have children and you'll understand my position better.”
“Your position?”
“A man will always love his children; no matter what they do. However, just because he loves them, it doesn't make accepting their choices any easier.”
“You don't approve of me.” It was more a statement than a question.
“No. It's not that I don't approve of you. I just don't approve of how you handled your courtship with my daughter.” He sighed. “But that's irrelevant now. You've both made your choices; whether I approve of how the two of you decided to do things or not, I can learn to accept it.” He grinned. “Though I do hope I'm around to see your children give you the same fits. I do believe that shall work miracles in wiping away the heartache I've suffered.”
John stared straight ahead as a vision of what life would be like for him in twenty years formed in his mind. He swallowed; then again. With a mother like Carolina, he might need all that money Edward had been depositing for him as a dowry if they have a girl.
Mr. Ellis' laughter brought John back to present. “Has something in that mind of yours frightened you, my boy?”
“I must start praying tonight that she bears only sons,” he said half-heartedly. Honestly, he didn't care if she had a dozen girls who were just like her. He'd love her—and them—all the same.
“You haven't changed your mind about marrying her, have you?”
“No. I'd still like to marry her, but my asking depends on you.”
“I've already given you my permission. What more are you waiting for?”
“Your promise.”
“My promise?'
John nodded. “I want you to promise me that the day I marry Carolina you'll free Bethel.”
Mr. Ellis' smile vanished and a blank expression took his face. “Pardon me?”
“Bethel's freedom in exchange for me marrying Carolina.”
Mr. Ellis' cold grey eyes penetrated his. “And why would I do this?”
“Because it's what I'm asking.”
“Son, you have to understand; a woman like Bethel costs a lot of money. I cannot just free her. It'll cost me half of a harvest's profits to replace her.”
John ignored the uneasy feeling in his stomach at the way Mr. Ellis talked of Bethel as if she were a piece of furniture and not a person. “Consider it a wedding present.”
Mr. Ellis sighed. “I know Carolina is fond of her, but I cannot free her.”
“And why not?”
“Mrs. Ellis would be most displeased. She's come to be quite dependent upon Bethel.”
“She can become dependent upon someone else,” John bit off.
Mr. Ellis shifted in his chair as best he could. “Isn't there something else I can do?”
“No. You either free Bethel and have the respectable youngest son of an English baron marry your daughter or don't free her and have an exiled vagrant make your daughter his mistress.”
“You wouldn't dare,” Mr. Ellis thundered.
It was the first time John had heard the man raise his voice. John fisted his hands and willed himself not to cough and give himself away. He had to do this. He had to be strong and put up an impenetrable front, or his only chance at getting Bethel's freedom would be lost.
He clamped his jaw closed to keep a hard, impassive expression on his face and strolled to the door. Stopping, he said, “Sir, you're the one who said Carolina would do whatever I asked of her. Do you truly mean to find out if that's true?”
Leaving Mr. Ellis and his floundering jaw in the room, John left, intent to see if her father's theory was still true after everything he had to tell her.