The Bride Insists (15 page)

He got his wish. “I'm… I'm going to arrange with the vicar to ‘encounter' them there. To… umm… ohh… to see that they're all right. I chose a day when I know he often rambles.” Clare knew this because Reverend Carew seemed very often to include Trehearth on his walks and end up talking to Selina in the solar.

“Devious.” Jamie bent to let his lips follow the course of his fingertips.

“Indeed,” Clare breathed.

He raised his head and gazed into her tiger eyes. They were a bit blurred with arousal already. “I had no idea you could plot so twistily. I believe I must look… deeper into your… character.”

“My… character is well worth explor—oh! Oh, Jamie!”

April arrived; flowers bloomed in the cleared-out garden beds, new plantings lending color to the grounds around Trehearth. The furniture Clare had ordered in Penzance arrived by ship, directly to the cove in the village below, and new furnishings further improved the feel of the house. Their neighbors became more than just names as they were included in the social life of the area. Comfortable in her transformed sitting room on a soft misty day, pouring tea for a trio of callers, Clare marveled at the change in the place. The combination of hard work and loving care had made Trehearth a real home.

Selina and the vicar had their heads together across the room. By now Clare was certain that her friend was Reverend Carew's main object in his calls here. The sight of them talking so easily together amused and delighted her.

Elizabeth Fox, sitting next to Clare on the sofa, accepted her cup with a smile. “How did you and Jamie meet?” she asked. “Was it at a ball?” The older woman sighed. “Graham and I first met at a ball. I think dancing must be the most romantic way to begin a connection.”

“We were… introduced by a mutual acquaintance,” Clare replied. She met her husband's eyes across the room; they both smiled. Everett Billingsley was a mutual acquaintance, if not the sort their caller was no doubt visualizing.

“Astonishing,” Graham Fox said to the twins. On the far side of the room, Randolph had sat on command beside the man's chair. And then he had held out a giant paw to be shaken. The dog looked from one guest to another, eyes bright, looking for applause. “You've done wonders with him. I'd have sworn it wasn't possible.”

Jamie would have said the same about his sisters, but there they were, dressed in proper gowns, speaking quite civilly to the guests. The most amazing thing about it was their cheerfulness. They almost looked as if they were enjoying themselves. There were no scowls or attempts to slip out once they'd said the barest of hellos. There were no furtive glances to presage a disruptive prank. They looked… they looked like well-brought-up girls at ease in the midst of their family. Jamie turned to gaze at Clare. By some inexplicable magic, she'd made them a family in this short time. He'd married her to get the money to save his estate. And she'd shown him that Trehearth was far more than a stretch of acres and buildings.

Solemnly, Randolph offered a huge paw to Graham Fox for the third time. Amiably, the man shook it again, and Jamie joined in the group's appreciative laughter. What a clever choice he'd made, he thought.

Later, Jamie escorted the Foxes out to their carriage. When he turned back to the front door, he found his sisters coming out of it.

“We're taking Randolph for a run,” Tamsyn said.

“He gets tired of being on his best behavior,” Tegan added.

Jamie imagined that the twins did, too. He was tired of chitchat and teacups himself. He felt a wave of kinship and affection for his sisters. “Shall I come along? We could go down the cliff path.” They weren't supposed to go that way by themselves, though of course he knew they did. He shared their delight in the steep twists of it.

Tamsyn and Tegan smiled—identical, brilliant smiles that lit their dark eyes. “Yes!” they said at the same moment. Smiling back, Jamie set off with girls and dog for a good ramble.

***

“I had a particular reason for coming today,” said the vicar back in the solar. “I believe I have found someone who could do the work on your bathing room.”

“Really?” Clare had talked about that plan at first and then let it slide into the background. There had been so much else to do, and Jamie was keeping the local craftsmen so busy. She had, however, ordered the large tin tub she'd visualized and drain piping on the expedition to Penzance, along with her new sofas and chairs. These materials were currently sitting in a dark corner of the stables.

“He's a skilled carpenter and all-round builder, and a pleasant young man. Also, he's quite intrigued with the innovations you suggest. A forward-looking lad.”

“Why isn't he too busy then?” Clare wondered.

“He was working up in Penzance when he was taken ill and returned to his parents' house here to recover.” Carew smiled. “Apparently, he's now smitten with a neighbor girl who helped with the nursing, and not eager to leave the village just yet.”

“If you think he's up to it.” What a pleasure it would be to have the bath in place, Clare thought, to be able to indulge in a thorough soak with so much less trouble.

“He can deal with drains?” Selina asked.

Reverend Carew nodded at her, his face softening in a way that confirmed all of Clare's surmises about his frequent calls. “So he says.”

“Have him come and see me,” Clare decided. “I'll show him what I have in mind and see what he thinks.” And so it was arranged.

The vicar rose to go. Clare and Selina walked with him as far as the front door, where Clare said her farewells and continued on to the kitchen. Lingering in the entryway, Carew said, “I wondered if you would care to join me on a mission tomorrow?”

“A mission?” The term made Selina smile.

“I'm assigned to ‘encounter' the twins during their expedition to the Merry Maidens and make sure all's well.”

“Merry Maidens, is that a pub?” Selina couldn't imagine why Tamsyn and Tegan would be anywhere near a taproom.

Carew burst out laughing. “There's a vision of havoc. No, the Maidens are a circle of ancient stones, a matter of two miles from here. Perhaps a bit less. It's a pleasant walk.” He awaited her answer with some trepidation, conscious that the invitation was a significant step. As vicar, he was subject to close scrutiny by his parishioners, or at least by a small prying group of them, and held to a very high standard of behavior. He couldn't be seen out with a woman unless he was sure. But in the last few weeks, as his acquaintance with Selina Newton grew through their talks, he had become so. “We would have a worthwhile purpose, you see.”

“To make sure the twins don't get up to any mischief,” said Selina slowly.

“Or in any trouble,” he replied, with a diffidence that was new to him. It had been decades since he last went… courting. There was no other word for it. Her response would tell him how much of their cordial conversations had been simple politeness and how much something more.

Selina hesitated. It wasn't entirely proper to go walking alone with a gentleman, even a man of the cloth. She was of an age where it didn't matter so much, of course. But Selina could almost hear the sly whispers of some of her former employers—delightfully shocked, mockingly disappointed, deploring… oh, all sorts of things. Edward Carew certainly had parishioners who would raise their eyebrows at such an invitation, if not worse. And he certainly knew it. So he was asking… Selina's heart beat faster. She'd wondered whether he was really singling her out on his calls. He'd seemed quite attentive, but it was hard to be sure. Now she had her answer. If she chose to take a step beyond the bounds of the strictest propriety and routine, it might also be a step into a previously unimagined future. Was that so very difficult? Old habits and newly awakened desires fought a brief, fierce battle within her. A zest for adventure that she barely remembered rose up and wrestled the disapproving voices into silence. “Yes,” she said. It came out loud, and Selina flushed. “That is, a walk sounds quite pleasant.”

The warmth of her companion's smile burned away any lingering doubts. He took his leave with a promise to return for her early the following day.

Selina watched him walk toward the stables, his tall, thin figure limned by the afternoon light. When he was out of sight, she made her way to the sewing room. It was empty; her helpers had gone home to prepare their families' evening meal. Selina sat down to work on something simple, a long seam that allowed her fingers to be busy while her mind ranged far and wide.

When Clare came in half an hour later, she had to speak twice before Selina turned to her. “My father was a clergyman, you know,” Selina said.

Clare blinked, startled. “I didn't know. You never mentioned it.”

“Yes. My mother was a great help in his parish work. She enjoyed that very much.”

“I'm sure she did.” Clare examined her friend, noting the distance in her hazel eyes, the slight curve of her full lips.

“Life is a continual history of the unexpected,” Selina said. “We may pretend it can be tamed through routine, but it can't. We don't have that power.”

“Very true. I often marvel at the surprising changes in my own life these past months.”

“Yet as unsettling as that can be, it is sometimes also wonderful.”

Clare's puzzlement gave way to delighted surmise. “Do you have some news, Selina?” she asked.

The older woman started as if she'd been pinched. “What? News? No.”

Despite her denials, Clare thought smugly that she soon would have.

***

Reverend Carew returned soon after breakfast the next morning, and he and Selina set out together on a path that meandered across the countryside. It was a lovely day—sunny with just a few drifting clouds, a soft breeze that cooled without chilling. They were both fond of walking and moved at a compatible pace. The vicar carried a small knapsack and a serious hiker's stick. Selina wore a broad straw hat to shade her face and sturdy shoes below her muslin gown.

For the first few minutes they walked in silence, finding their strides, savoring the fresh air. Then Carew said, “Do you like Cornwall?” It sounded a bit abrupt to his own ears. Being alone with Selina Newton had turned out to be a mixed blessing. It was a relief to know that they could talk without reservation, but an uncharacteristic self-consciousness had descended upon him.

“I do,” Selina replied. “It is wilder than the landscape where I grew up, but very beautiful.”

“I find it so. I expect I shall spend the rest of my career in the church here.” Which meant the rest of his life, most likely.

Was
this
a
place
where
she
could
live
permanently?
Selina wondered. She'd never planned to remain. But that was before she met Edward Carew. “I can see why you would be glad to do so,” she answered. “Have you no family to draw you elsewhere?” They'd had little opportunity to exchange intimate histories, with others always present during their conversations.

“I have one son and one daughter,” the vicar said. “Both of them married well, before my wife died six years ago. Sarah lives in Hampshire. Robert helps his father-in-law manage his wife's inheritance in Kent. He complains of being under the man's thumb, but I think he's all right. They're both happy to visit here with their families in the summer, so I have the opportunity to see them. I have three grandchildren, all infants yet.”

“I envy you that,” Selina admitted. “Children were never granted me.” There had been little opportunity, with her husband at sea for most of their marriage.

They walked awhile in silence. Birdsong and a sough of soft wind filled the air.

“It was another thing for my husband's mother to complain of,” Selina found herself saying then. “She had a positive genius for complaint. I suppose that experience made my later posts more bearable. None of my other ladies was as bad.”

“Still, it must have been difficult, catering to their whims and crochets,” Carew said sympathetically.

“Sometimes… not generally. Of course there were moments of exasperation and… loneliness. But I liked feeling useful. And two of my… charges became good friends.”

It was another way that they were kindred spirits, the vicar thought. Like him, Selina enjoyed helping people.

“But I admit it was a relief to gain some independence with the annuity Clare provided,” she added, “and not to have to search for a new post.”

This remark lay between them as they walked on. Edward Carew wondered if she meant she valued her independence too much to give it up. Selina was happy to have him know that she wasn't a penniless dependent, on the lookout for a more permanent source of support.

At midmorning they reached their goal, a circle of ancient gray stones in a grassy field. One or two had fallen, but most were upright, and they looked to have been carefully chosen for their shape and size. The inner faces and tops of the stones were flat and level, and they rose in size so that the tallest stones stood in the southwest quadrant of the circle. Selina walked among them. “Why is it called the Merry Maidens?” she wondered.

“Some talk of dancing maidens turned to stone for merrymaking on the Sabbath,” replied Carew lightly. “The place is also called ‘Dans Maen,' which is Cornish for, roughly, ‘dancing stones.' Far too old to have anything to do with our Christian Sabbaths, of course.”

“So what do you think it was?”

“A ritual spot, where people expressed their spiritual beliefs in their own way.”

“You aren't bothered that it is a… pagan place?” Selina asked.

“Do you think I should be?”

Selina met his bright blue gaze. He always looked so engaged with whatever she said. Now, she knew he was sincerely interested in her opinion. Such attention had been rare in her life. She looked around the bright landscape. The place felt peaceful. “No. It was all so long ago.”

“I think we can respect those who have a sincere faith that is not ours,” he said. “Even if we don't agree with them.”

Nodding, Selina realized that this was one of the things she most admired about him. He always treated others with respect, without ever compromising his own beliefs.

Carew's head came up. “Here come our charges,” he said. “Be sure to act surprised.”

Selina heard it then, the sound of hooves on the path. In another moment, Tamsyn and Tegan came into view, in their breeches again, riding easily on their ponies. She tried to assume a startled expression.