Today's Embrace (15 page)

Lizzie looked after them, satisfied, with a sharp nod of her head. Mumbling to herself, she strode down the hall.

Evy, out of sight on the winding stairway, hardly contained her laughter.
I didn't have to say a word in my defense. Thank you, Lizzie
.

Moments later she went on up the stairs. Despite the humorous scene she felt grieved in spirit. Even the Rookswood maids knew the cruel tale Patricia had spread in London. So Rogan was sorry he'd married her, was he? Well, that was their wishful thinking. Their fancies entertained the notion that the handsome future squire secretly found all the Rookswood maids attractive.

Evy recalled growing up in the village where all the girls were infatuated with Rogan. But now, it seemed, they still were. She saw how women noticed him when they went into the village together. At first it simply amused her, but later on she felt some irritation.

The town whispers, unlike Patricia's lies, could be overlooked, considering that his marriage to the “rectory girl” had come as a shock to the entire village. Everyone had anticipated his union with Lord Bancroft's daughter. That expectation had gone so far as to prompt Patricia to order
a wedding trousseau. And when Rogan was in South Africa, he had received a rather threatening letter from Lord Bancroft suggesting he was “trifling” with his daughter. Sir Julien had used the situation to attempt to persuade Rogan to marry Patricia at once. Rogan, however, had scoffed at the notion of betraying Patricia. “I never proposed marriage to Patricia,” he had told her on their honeymoon. “She assumed marriage, as did everyone else, without ever asking me what I thought. Then, when I chose the only woman I ever really wanted, I was suddenly accused of betraying Patricia. She and her father formed expectations that were not of my making. I suppose it's face saving to blame me.”

Evy climbed the stairs and tried even harder not to limp. They had noticed the shoe Dr. Jackson wanted her to wear. She loathed it. She no longer needed a cane, thanks to Rogan's insistence on managing her exercise program.

Evy was ready to turn down the hall to her and Rogan's private suite when a tug of emotion tripped her heart. She wasn't ready to face Rogan yet. Not after hearing Rosie's gossip. Soon her waistline would change. Many would be surprised and consider the gossip to be true. They would say Rogan had been a scoundrel, and perhaps it was because Evy had lost her Uncle Edmund and Aunt Grace at a crucial time in her youth. Yes, even the rectory girl could go astray with a handsome rogue like Rogan Chantry.

Instead of going to her room, she climbed to the third floor, where she'd once lived with Aunt Grace during those few years after Edmund's death. Grace had been Arcilla's governess back then. Evy walked down the quiet hall and opened the door.

The past reached out to her like perfume, filling her head with fond memories. She entered and shut the door, looking about, a gentle smile on her lips. She ran her fingers along the dresser Aunt Grace had used.

“Wish you were here,” she murmured. “You'd know what to do.”

I AM here
, a thought ran through her mind.
The Lord never changes. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever. Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest
.

As though Jesus Himself stood in the room, Evy rushed to fall on her knees, leaning the side of her cheek against the soft comforter on the bed.

“Lord, what shall I do? You heard Rogan this morning. A baby now would ruin all his plans. And if he knows he'll insist I stay behind. I don't want to stay behind to face the gossip alone. I want to go with him to South Africa. I want to meet your servant, Dr. Jakob. Lord, give me strength and wisdom. Work in Rogan to be what You want him to be, to accomplish what You will. Oh, Lord, help me to trust You, to believe You're working in our lives, that You brought us together in holy matrimony.”

The rain beating softly against the windowpane kept time with her heart. Peace began to settle over her soul.

Her knowledge of Scripture flowed through her mind, bringing order. Her frustration ebbed.
He is in control. Do you believe Him? Nothing takes Him by surprise. Certainly not the new life He created in your womb. Rejoice! Don't falter. Your plans—Rogan's plans are all subservient to His greater plans. You don't know what a day will bring forth do you? Then why fret and fume? Rest in the Lord's provision. Wait on Him to act in His way, in His timing. You ought to say, “If the Lord wills, we shall live and do this or that!” When you can't understand it all, Evy, then trust Him to work everything out. Trust Him through uncertain days and scary nights. Trust Him especially when it is difficult
.

She was relaxed and nearly fell asleep on her knees, her cheek resting on the comforter, until a strong and gentle hand touched her hair. Her eyes fluttered open. She started, until she knew Rogan's touch.

He slipped down beside her, his arm going around her shoulders, drawing her head against his chest, his fingers caressing her hair. She looked at him, knowing her eyes revealed her expectations. His gaze was tender, and she could not doubt for a moment the love and respect in his warm, brown eyes. A smile came to her, and she reached her fingers to run through his dark hair.

He lifted her hand with his, raising it to his lips. Looking at the wedding ring, he straightened it on her finger, the diamonds sparkling.

“I'm sorry I was thickheaded this morning.”

“It was my fault, too. How did you know I was up here?”

“I was watching for you when you came home.” He regarded her intently. “Still troubled by old Mama Bear?”

She smiled at his term for his Aunt Elosia. “I feel a bit like Little Red Riding Hood.”

He smiled. “Then I must be the big bad wolf.”

“Maybe it's silly of me, but sometimes I feel intimidated by her.”

“That's not too surprising. I've been thinking about what you said earlier when we were out riding. I've tried to see things from your perspective.”

She looked at him quickly.

“I suppose there's a reason why she never bothered me much with her dominant ways. By that, I mean the things she wants to do usually don't affect me.” He smiled crookedly. “Truth is, I care very little about the issues she gets boiled up about, so I've seldom found myself at emotional odds with her. The main source of trouble for me has been Julien, whom I consider ruthless. I've been in a battle of wits with him for years. But for you, I can see how Elosia could invoke a similar sort of conflict.”

She smiled. “It is comforting to realize that you understand. Perhaps I've been overreacting.”

“Not if it troubles you, and apparently it does. Evy”—and he drew her to him again, leaning his head against hers—“your security at Rookswood is not at risk, certainly not with me, anyway. It's you and I together, my love. The day will come when Elosia is gone, and we'll still be here together.”

“Well, now that you've understood things, it doesn't seem so important anymore.”

“Oh no, my dear, you're not getting out of this that easy. Didn't you
tell me this morning I failed to take enough interest in matters that are important to you? I took what you said to heart. I've been debating with myself all afternoon. So now you must
explain
things to me.”

She was pleasantly amazed at the willingness he showed to understand. It was as though he'd decided to pick up a heavy load and shoulder it because it was his masculine calling to accept the God-given role as husband. At that moment she was experiencing overwhelming delight in her beloved bridegroom.

She tossed her hair from her shoulder and hoped she sounded reasonable.

“All right. I'll give you an example. I wanted to ask Mrs. Croft to come here to Rookswood. She had mentioned last week she would like to work for us. I thought she might be able to use these rooms until a governess or nurse is needed for Arcilla and Peter's return.”
If they ever return
, she thought. “Mrs. Croft wouldn't interact with the rest of Rookswood help, just with you and me.”

“Seems reasonable.”

Evy tried to keep her voice mellow. “Elosia dismissed my decision as unnecessary. Perhaps it was to her, but I wanted Mrs. Croft to come, especially now.”

His gaze was questioning. “Especially
now?
”

She felt her cheeks warming and looked away at the fringe on the comforter. She plucked at it.

“No reason, except she and I have always been close. She's more like a grandmother to me.”

“I understand about Mrs. Croft. Fact is, I want her to be with you. If Elosia doesn't realize that, then I'll just explain to her.”

Could it really be that simple? Rogan thought so.

“But she said you wished things to remain just as they are.”

His brow arched. He reached over and brushed a tawny section of hair from her throat. “So you want Mrs. Croft?”

A flood of emotion, so untypical of her, bubbled over with a show of tears. “Yes …”

Rogan drew her into his arms, holding her against his chest and kissing her forehead and her cheeks.

“Then my little girl shall have Mama Croft to bring her tea and crumpets, and dry her tears. Cheer up, darling, I'll take care of it. If this is the worst I'll need to deal with, I'll be pleased.”

She looked at him, grateful that he hadn't made a flippant remark.

“What about Elosia's feelings?” she asked quietly. “I don't want a strained relationship with her. What could be worse than two women vying for supremacy at Rookswood by striving for your loyalty?”

“Sounds sticky,” he said with a grimace. “Look, don't worry. No one is going to manipulate me,” and he cupped her chin playfully, “not even you.”

“I don't want to manipulate you,” she said loftily. “All I want is a fair chance for us to become what God intended when we made our vows to each other, and to Him.”

He smiled. “Bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh. Therefore a man shall leave his papa and his mama—and the forbidding Lady Elosia—and be joined to his one and only.” He planted a quick kiss on her chin. “Consider it done, my Eve. I'll have a cozy little chat with Auntie.”

“Oh, Rogan, the last thing I want is trouble. You won't be too hard with her, will you?” She knew a sudden wave of guilt. “You know I actually like her a great deal and want to form a bond.”

“Bonds come in good time. Don't fret, Evy. I'll treat her with a satin glove. I've been dealing with Mama Bear since I was a boy. Now, get rid of that crease in your brow.” He rubbed between her brows with his thumb. “That's it, smile for me.”

“Oh, Rogan …” She put her arms around him, and he cradled her in his. She relished his understanding as he simply cuddled her.

After a minute he said, “Give me your left hand, Evy.”

Left hand? She did so, curious as to why. He held it firmly, his face determined.

“This morning you said I never prayed with you.”

“I shouldn't have said—”

“Let's try it now,” he said tonelessly. “I'm not one who likes to speak my mind and heart out loud to God, but I'll do it, since you want it. Maybe I'll learn to appreciate it.”

Amazed, she stared at him for a while. She had no doubt that he believed in Christ, prayed at times, and read the Bible, but he seldom shared those intimate thoughts with her. Indeed, until now, the only time he shared anything of a spiritual note with her was on Sunday worship at the rectory chapel.

He had already bowed his dark head and was praying. Evy listened to his resonant voice talking about
her
and her
needs
to the heavenly Father.
This is Rogan, and he actually means it. He's reaching out to God about meeting my needs
.

Her heart warmed. He looked so wonderful praying beside her, more masculine than ever as he yielded in submission to his Head, Christ.

When he had finished, he looked at her calmly, and she smiled. He stood and pulled her to her feet.

Dizziness assailed her. He caught her swiftly, drawing her against him. “Darling,” he said swiftly, worried.

Evy held to him tightly as the room spun round.

“You're not well,” came his concerned voice.

“No, I'm all right,” she murmured, keeping her eyes closed.

“I can see that isn't so. You've been looking pale for days now. You're not yourself, Evy. I know you, and you're not the same recently. Is it something seasonal? Should I call for Tisdale?”

“Rogan … no, don't.” She wet her lips and kept her face downward, her fingers plucking at his shirt front.

He scowled a bit and tilted his head, looking at her, questioning.

Now was the moment.
Go ahead
, she urged herself,
tell him. You must tell him. If plans are to be altered, then give him time to think about them. Remember what Martha told you? “Tell him the truth.
”

But the words lodged in her throat.
After all, why cannot I go to
Capetown expecting a child? Other women have sailed the ocean and survived, why not me? That's it. That's the answer. I'll just go and tell him aboard ship
.

“Evy …?”

“It's nothing, darling,” she said with false cheer. “Just a bit lightheaded is all. I didn't take lunch, and I think that funny tea Mrs. Croft makes for headaches was too strong. I'm fine now. I … I stood too quickly.”

She sensed his relentless gaze and deliberately avoided it, looping her arm through his.

“Shall we go down? The post should have come by now. Weren't you expecting a report from Derwent?”

For a moment she thought she wouldn't get by with her facade, but when she glanced at him, she saw suspicion slowly change to puzzlement, as though he was not sure about things.

“All right, we'll go down. This reminds me, I've arranged for Dr. Jackson to come from London tomorrow. I want to make certain you're up to all this before we sail for Capetown. I know that land, Evy. It eats up little girls who are frail. I won't let that happen to you. You're too important to me.”