The Bride Insists (24 page)

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Authors: Jane Ashford

BOOK: The Bride Insists
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“He won't go with you,” cried Tegan. “Randolph! Come here.”

The great dog leaned in her direction, pulling at Clare's arm. “Home, Randolph,” Clare said firmly. “I'll find you a good meaty bone.”

The dog recognized this last word. The twins had used it often in his training, as Clare was well aware. He gazed up at her, brown eyes bright, his tongue happily lolling. When Clare took a step toward the path, he came with her. A spatter of rain darkened the rock.

“Randolph!” repeated Tegan.

He stopped and looked back over his massive shoulder.

“Come,” ordered Tegan. Tamsyn seemed on the verge of tears.

Randolph pulled at the leash. Clare resisted and wondered how to break this impasse. And then, like an answer to a prayer, Selina and the vicar walked around the far side of the rock and positioned themselves behind the twins. The girls were now surrounded.

“You told!” cried Tegan, her eyes hot with betrayal.

Clare refused to be moved. “I could not go out all alone, leaving no idea where I was headed. I would never worry people that way. I consider it wrong.”

Tamsyn hung her head.

“Very wise,” said the vicar. “I'm extremely disappointed in you, Tegan, Tamsyn, for running away as you did. We have all been quite frantic. It was a thoughtless and irresponsible thing to do.”

Under the reproving gaze of their mentor, the girls wilted. They offered no further resistance on the walk home, particularly when the rain began in earnest about halfway there. It soon soaked the whole party and made the walk a miserable slog. Even so, the twins' steps lagged as they neared the house. “I suppose Jamie will be very angry with us,” Tegan murmured. It wasn't a question, and no one replied.

Inside the house, amidst the exclamations of Anna and other members of the staff, Clare inquired as to Jamie's whereabouts. She expected to hear that he was out searching, but Gwen said he had come back just ahead of the rain and gone into the estate office. This was not good news. Clare now knew that he kept a brandy bottle there. But they couldn't delay. The three adults herded the girls along the corridor to find him.

When the bedraggled party came into the estate office, Jamie was dumbfounded. For a fleeting instant, he thought they were an illusion brought on by drink. But he hadn't downed that much today, yet. He took in his sisters' unharmed, if wet and grimy, condition. They were back; they were all right. The crisis was over. Relief ran through him in a heart-shaking tremor.

Two pairs of dark eyes gazed at him with their customary challenge. The strength of his worry for them flipped into a burning anger. “Where the devil have you been? Do you have any notion of the worry you've caused? You set the whole household on its ear. We've been searching… if any tenant of mine has been hiding you, I swear I will turn them out…”

“They haven't,” interrupted Tegan. “We… we hid ourselves.”

Jamie recollected that he had visited every tenant on his land, and a good few on others' estates. “Where?” Seeing his sisters' obdurate expressions, he turned to the others. “How did you find them?”

“They left a note in the pocket of this old gown,” said Clare. “In my wardrobe. I only found it this morning when I put the dress on.”

Selina, ever prepared, held out the note. Jamie snatched the page and read it. The words “you listen and Jamie doesn't” seared his sensibilities. He grappled with the fact that his sisters had trusted Clare rather than him, and that she hadn't told him before going after them.

“We wouldn't have come out if she hadn't been alone,” Tamsyn said.

“Looked like she was alone,” muttered Tegan.

Clare turned to look at Tamsyn, surprised by the little girl's immediate grasp of her brother's thought process.

“We thought she'd listen to us,” Tamsyn ventured.

“And promise,” said Tegan.

“But she didn't,” murmured her sister.

“Promise what?” Jamie snapped.

“That everyone wouldn't leave us again,” Tamsyn said. And she burst into tears.

“Tam.” Though she looked disgusted, Tegan went and put an arm around her sister. She glared at the adults as if daring them to comment or offer sympathy. Jamie blinked at the scene. He hadn't seen either of his sisters cry in years.

“We need to get out of these wet clothes,” said Clare. Further discussion could wait until everyone was warm and dry.

The admirable Anna Pendennis had already begun filling the bath with hot water. Clare left the twins in her hands and went to change her own clothes. How insignificant her bathroom plan had become compared with all that followed, she thought as she pulled off her soaked boots. She'd returned to find the project completed and hardly had the attention to care.

When she returned to the estate office some minutes later, Jamie was drinking coffee and staring out the window at the rain. Relief at his sisters' return, and the anger, had given way to a host of other emotions. They flitted in and out of his mind in no particular order, and he couldn't seem to organize them into a coherent plan of what to do next. When Clare walked in, he felt a surprising gratitude, as if all would now become clear. “Thank you for bringing them back,” he said.

The simple openness of his tone touched her. “I only wish I had taken out that old gown earlier.”

He waved this aside. “Last night… I… That was outrageous, inexcusable. I apologize. It will never happen again.” He saw Clare looking at the coffee cup. He raised it in a small salute. He couldn't quite bring himself to say it aloud, but he hoped she would understand that he meant to limit his drinking from this day forward.

After a moment, she nodded and sat in the chair opposite his desk. “We must decide what to do. I feel that there must be severe consequences for the girls' behavior.”

“I couldn't agree more. Shall we lock them in the cellars?” He tried a smile to show he was joking. He seemed to have forgotten how to talk to Clare, a skill that had once been so easy. “Pack them off to school?” he added more seriously.

“I don't think so.” Clare shook her head. “No. They love this place so much. I think that is too harsh. There must be punishment, of course. Running away is absolutely unacceptable. But what Tamsyn said… Obviously, they've also been hurt by being left alone.”

Jamie winced. Clearly leaving them here at Trehearth with only the Pendennises—this time and before—had been a mistake. He'd made so many mistakes with his sisters.

“To send them away from the home they adore… from all of us…” Clare cringed internally. Was there an “all of us” any longer? She'd thought they were building a family; she'd given the twins the impression that they had one and then fled without a word. In her anguish, she'd hurt them cruelly. But resolving the crisis that had brought her back to Trehearth didn't solve the problems that had precipitated it.

“They would hate that,” Jamie acknowledged.

Throat tight, Clare nodded.

“Clare.” His voice broke on the syllable. “I've acted like… an ass. I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?”

Was he apologizing for going back on his word? She should ask him, Clare thought. But the idea of rehashing that sore subject was too painful. And perhaps she was afraid of the answer.

“I'll do better.” He would forego the brandy entirely, Jamie vowed. “Can we not go back to the way things were… before? Try again?”

“Just as they were before?” Clare said. She gazed at him steadily, the whole history of his betrayal in her eyes. If he would honor their agreement… She swallowed. How she yearned for their days here together when all had seemed well.

Jamie didn't pretend to misunderstand her. He knew he'd made a host of mistakes. The drinking. And he'd been hasty and short-tempered. He'd pushed for his own way when there was really no necessity. They'd easily reached agreement on what was to be spent, after all. Why had he not let any change that was to come in their understanding develop at its own speed? Strangers—which was what they'd been at first—did not trust each other in an instant. “Yes,” he said firmly.

Clare was shaken by the strength of her reaction. A tightness around her heart, an ache she'd been carrying for weeks, eased. She blinked back a film of tears and nodded.

Jamie wanted to leap up and sweep her into his arms, but he didn't quite dare. He was afraid of making any missteps in this fragile dance. He cleared his throat. “So, the twins, what shall we do about them?”

With a deep breath, Clare pulled her mind back to the present problem. “I think… what about… no ponies for… a month? And even then, they are not allowed to wander around the countryside on their own. If they go riding or walking, they must be escorted.”

Jamie nodded. This would be a real hardship for his sisters. “We should find out where they were, so they can't pull that trick again.”

“If we can.” Clare doubted that the girls would part with this information. “Also, they must concentrate on
all
of their studies without any complaint and…” She smiled slightly. “Learn to cook.”

“Cook?” Jamie raised his brows in surprise.

“Just some simple dishes. Tamsyn and Tegan are rather contemptuous of domestic tasks.”

“Ah.” There was a gratifying symmetry to the scheme.

“What do you think?” They were his sisters, Clare reminded herself, even though she had developed a deep affection for them.

“I agree absolutely, on every point. And I believe it would be best if we tell them together, to make it clear there is no room for… jockeying or playing one of us off against the other.”

“A good idea.” Clare smiled at him, wondering if he understood that this would also reassure the twins.

She smiled at him, and for the first time since he was sixteen, Jamie nearly wept. It seemed an endless time since she'd looked at him so affectionately, and he'd missed her so much.

Judgment passed, they went to find the twins and deliver the sentence. Tucked into their own great bed, washed, in clean nightclothes and supplied with mugs of hot milk, the girls were sliding toward sleep. Their relief at being home again was obviously taking hold, and they received the news of their punishments with little protest. That would come later, Clare thought as she shut the door upon them. This weary docility would soon wear off. But she found she didn't mind. Tamsyn and Tegan wouldn't be themselves without a good dollop of mischief.

Jamie returned to the estate office to take up the myriad projects that had fallen behind as they searched for his sisters. Clare went to the kitchen to share the terms of the twins' punishment with Anna and Mrs. Telmore, the cook. The latter looked a bit apprehensive until Anna promised to join in the culinary lessons. She also promised to tell her husband about the ban on the ponies. Feeling that she'd done her duty, Clare headed for the solar, anticipating the first moments of true relaxation she'd experienced since returning from London.

She was a bit surprised to find the vicar there, hovering over the fire to dry his damp garments. Selina sat on the sofa, and Clare had the sense that they'd been talking of serious matters until she arrived. “I asked… Reverend Carew to dinner,” Selina said, her voice a little constrained. “It's so wet and dreary outside.”

And would be all that, as well as dark, later on, thought Clare. She said nothing, however. She was content to have his company. Perhaps he needed to be here, to assure himself that all was really well. He'd been as worried about twins as any of them.

The rainy afternoon darkened toward dusk, and the four adults gathered in the dining room for a quietly celebratory meal. Jamie ordered up a single bottle of wine and partook of only one glass. With each hour that passed, the restoration of the twins sank in more deeply. They were able to truly enjoy the cook's efforts, as they had not in days.

When the last dish had been cleared, leaving them alone, Selina sat up straighter in her chair and said. “We have something to tell you.”

“We?”

“Selina and I,” said the vicar.

Before Clare could react to his use of her friend's first name, Selina added, “Edward has asked me to marry him.”

“And she has done me the great honor of accepting.” Carew reached across the table and took Selina's hand.

So that was why the vicar had been hanging about Trehearth so much since they brought Mrs. Newton here, Jamie thought. He hadn't suspected an attachment. “Congratulations,” he said.

Clare was stunned. Had she become so self-absorbed that she didn't notice such a great change in the life of a friend? Her cheeks warmed a bit with shame. But Selina was looking at her, gaze slightly anxious. “That's wonderful news!” As soon as she spoke, Clare realized the truth of her statement. Selina would be her neighbor. She would stay right here rather than going off on her own. And still she was thinking of herself! “I'm so happy for you,” she added.

“We should break out a bottle of champagne from the cellars,” Jamie said. He saw Clare looking at him and flushed. Did she think drink was always his first thought? At the same time, he was aware that a part of him longed for a sparkling glass. Or two.

“Not for me,” said the vicar. “One glass of wine is my limit, and in any case, I must head home. My housekeeper will be wondering what's become of me. I simply wanted to share our happy news before… any new disruptions occurred. Or Selina could change her mind.” The couple smiled at each other so tenderly that Clare finally discovered the joy she should feel at a friend's happiness.

Reverend Carew rose. Selina did too. “I'll see you out,” she said.

Clare and Jamie sat on in the dining room. There was no thought tonight of her retreating to the solar and leaving him to his bottle. “So, a romance right under our noses,” Jamie said.

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