Elizabeth turned Sarah over to the warm, capable ministrations of Anna Hammerfield and rushed down the hallway to her room. She had just reached for the doorknob when the realization that she was no longer afraid of Justin struck her. She stopped dead still. How had that happened? When had that happened? The fear was gone. Justin had held her in his arms and she had not been afraid. Nervous, yes. But not afraid. How extraordinary!
Elizabeth twisted the knob, stepped into the bridal chamber, and began undoing the bodice of her clay-spattered gown as she crossed to her dressing room. What had happened? Had God answered her prayer? She smiled at the foolish thought and called for Trudy. Saying a prayer was something one did to make oneself feel better in difficult circumstances. No one she knew actually expected God to answer their prayers.
A sudden image of herself, weary and desperate, standing on the street that led to the Haversham Coach House counting her coins and praying for the Lord to help her find a way out of town popped into Elizabeth’s mind. Her hands stilled. Chills ran down her spine—her flesh prickled. Had God answered that prayer? Had Justin been the answer to her desperate plea?
“Did you call, mum?”
Elizabeth jumped and undid the last of the fastenings on her bodice. “Yes. I need a wash, Trudy. Have Tobie bring water immediately.”
“Yes, mum.” The maid bobbed her awkward curtsy and rushed from the room.
Elizabeth sank down onto the chair behind her. What about when Reginald had attacked her? Had God heard her prayer for help then? Was that why her Uncle Charles had appeared unexpectedly and saved her? Had the hidden key and the servants being ordered away from her room, Reginald’s servant not seeing her at Carrington’s Inn and the old gentleman with the oyster barrow directing her to the Haversham Coach House, the judge mistaking her for another woman and Justin’s marrying her, all been God’s answer to her frantic prayers for help?
The thoughts came faster and faster, and chill after chill chased down Elizabeth’s spine and spread throughout her body. Had God heard her? Was He watching over her? Helping her? Protecting her? Elizabeth lifted an awed gaze to the ceiling. Could it be? Could it be that prayers were more than something you said to make yourself feel better?
The bedroom door opened. Elizabeth shoved her startling thoughts aside, removed her soiled gown and walked to the wash basin as Trudy and Tobie filled it with hot water.
Abigail Twiggs switched from studying the dishes on the bench to studying Justin as he watched Elizabeth disappear down the path to the house. She smiled and nodded her satisfaction. “So, Justin, you forgot that nonsense you wrote me about a marriage of convenience and married for love after all.”
“No, Abigail.” Justin turned and walked over to stand looking down at the ragged, lopsided dishes. “My marriage to Elizabeth is one of convenience.”
“I see.” The man looked wretched. Abigail grinned and plopped down on the bench, barely missing the dishes. She was suddenly very tired. It came on her like that.
“No one is to know, Abigail. I know you do not approve, but the deed is done and I would appreciate your silence in the matter. If my plan is to work, our marriage must appear to be a normal one. My pride insists on that.” Justin smiled at her. “And if we managed to fool you, we can fool anyone.”
Abigail snorted. “Don’t you be trying your charm on me, Justin Davidson Randolph. I’m too old, and I’ve known you too long, to be swayed by your winning ways. You didn’t fool me for an instant—you love that girl!”
For a long moment Justin stared at her, then his shoulders sagged. “All right, I admit it. I love her. But that knowledge is for you alone, Abigail. No one else knows—not even Elizabeth. Especially not Elizabeth.” He raked his hands through his hair. “I’ve told you the truth. The marriage is one of convenience only.”
“Hmm.” Abigail pursed her dry, wrinkled lips and fastened her gaze on Justin’s young, miserable face. “Hoist with your own petard are you?”
He winced. “You might say that. In fact, the thought has occurred to me more than once.”
“Well, what are you doing about it?”
“Doing?” He shot her a look of pure frustration. “Nothing.”
“Nothing!”
“It’s a marriage of convenience, Abigail.” Justin jammed his hands into his pockets. “There’s nothing I can do.”
“Balderdash!” Abigail lifted her cane and struck the brick paving with a sharp crack. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Have you never heard of wooing a woman?”
“Of course I have.” Justin glared at her from under lowered brows. “But I’ve given my word there will be no personal relationship between us.”
“More fool, you!” Abigail gave a disgusted snort and glared right back.
Justin made her a mocking bow of acknowledgment. “Exactly. Nonetheless, my word stands.”
“Hmm.”
Justin quirked his left eyebrow and gave her a wary look. “I know you well, old friend—and that look in your eyes is alarming me. I’d like your promise not to interfere.”
For a long moment the old woman stared up at Justin, then, abruptly, she looked away. “There’s naught I can do if you’ve given your word.” She peeked up at him.
Justin’s eyes narrowed. “That was far too easy, Abigail.”
The old woman looked up at the warning note in his voice and immediately realized her mistake. “That doesn’t mean I don’t still think you’re a fool! I like her.”
“But you will keep our secret?”
Abigail smiled inwardly. She had won. “Oh, yes. You’ve no cause to fret over that, Justin. Your secret will be safe with me.”
“And…you will not interfere?”
So she hadn’t sidetracked him after all. Abigail gave him a look of disgust. “Oh, very well! There’s no need to belabor the point. I’ll not interfere.” There was a distinctly sour note in her voice.
Justin chuckled. “Thank you, Abigail.” He leaned down and kissed her dry, wrinkled cheek. “I knew I could count on you.”
The old woman scowled. “It’s a waste of time talking to you, Justin Randolph. And I’m too old to waste time.” She tightened her grip on her cane and rose slowly to her feet. “I’m going to go have tea.”
She ignored his proffered arm and started down the path rapping her walking stick sharply against the bricks with every step. She was annoyed and wanted to make certain he knew it. She never had been a good loser.
“Did I do well?”
“Undeniably.” Justin smiled. “You parried Abigail’s questions very well, Elizabeth. And she can be formidable when she is after information.”
Elizabeth laughed. “She was a little daunting, but I survived. And I’m glad you’re pleased. I was concerned since her visit had a less than desirable beginning. But even so, I like Abigail Twiggs—she’s lovely. So warm and caring under that crusty exterior.”
Justin hooted. “Abigail would not thank you for seeing through her so quickly, Elizabeth. She prides herself on her irascibility.”
“Well I think she’s a dear.” She gave him an amused look. “And she certainly thinks highly of you.”
Justin nodded agreement. “She was Grandmother Davidson’s best friend. I expect some of her fondness for me stems from their relationship.”
“Only some of it?” Elizabeth couldn’t resist teasing Justin a little—he was always so controlled. “You seem very sure of yourself.”
“Why shouldn’t I be?” He grinned at her. “Don’t you find me a very likable fellow?”
Elizabeth cheeks prickled with sudden warmth. “We were discussing your relationship with Abigail Twiggs—not ours.”
“So we were.”
The woman was gone, so why was he looking at her that way? Probably he was paying her back for teasing him. Elizabeth looked down, flicked some imaginary lint from her new gown and directed their conversation onto a more comfortable path. “It must be lovely to have a good friend like Abigail.”
“It is.” Justin’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “Of course there are times when it is decidedly uncomfortable.”
“Such as when I embarrassed you in front of her this afternoon?” Elizabeth forced herself to meet his gaze. “I ask your forgiveness for that.”
“For what? There’s nothing to forgive.”
Elizabeth looked down at her hands—the look in his eyes made her nervous. “That’s very gracious of you. But I know better.” She smoothed a fold in her skirt. “Abigail is your friend, and a lady of society.”
“What of that?”
She glanced up at him. “I could hardly have made a less favorable impression. I looked…well…I looked like an urchin!”
“Yes, I know.” Justin grinned. “An urchin with a smudge of clay on her proud little chin.”
“You might have told me of that!”
“Why?” Justin’s grin widened. “I found it rather charming.”
“Charming?” Elizabeth stared at him. “I failed, Justin.”
“Failed?” His grin disappeared. “In what way?”
“I did not live up to our agreement.” Elizabeth rose to her feet. “Do you truly not understand? One of my responsibilities under our agreement is to help you fulfill your social obligations. I completely failed at that. Not only did I look uncomely for your guest, I acted it. I—I ordered her to stop frightening Sarah. And— Why are you laughing?” Elizabeth glared down at him. “Owen told me Abigail Twiggs is the undisputed leader of Philadelphia society and—”
“And so she is.” Justin looked up at Elizabeth and made a valiant effort to choke back his laughter. “And she is certainly not accustomed to being ordered about—especially by someone she thought was a servant. But she—” He burst into laughter again.
Elizabeth stiffened. “I’m so glad you find my faux pas amusing!”
“It’s not that, Elizabeth.” Justin pulled his handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket and wiped at his tearing eyes. “It’s only— I’d give the profit from my next ship to reach port to have seen her face!”
Elizabeth’s lips twitched. “I must admit she did look a bit taken aback.”
“Taken aback?” Justin howled. “A choice piece of understatement that. She must have been apoplectic!”
“Apoplectic? Oh, my!” Elizabeth’s amusement died. She sank back down onto her chair and nibbled at her soft bottom lip.
Justin wiped his eyes, again, and tucked his handkerchief back in his pocket. “There’s no need for concern, Elizabeth. Abigail has a wonderful sense of humor. She’ll be laughing over this day for a long while.”
She shot him a slanted look. “Are you being kind? Or do you truly believe so?”
“I know so.”
Elizabeth noticed his gaze locked on her mouth and stopped nibbling. It was a bad habit, but he needn’t be rude and stare.
Justin shifted in his seat. “Abigail is a very honest woman. She’ll not blame you for her mistake. She probably admires you tremendously for standing up to her. And I know she admires your desire to become close to the children. As do I.”
Elizabeth gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
Justin rose to his feet, walked to her chair and lifted her hand to his mouth. “You are a beautiful woman, Elizabeth—and your blushes delight me.” He pressed his lips lightly to the back of her fingers.
Elizabeth’s breath left her in a rush. Her heart fluttered furiously and heat streaked along her arm as Justin’s lips brushed against her skin. She gasped, snatched her hand from his grasp and pressed back against the chair.
Justin’s jaw tightened. He snapped upright and dropped his hand to his side. “Forgive me, Elizabeth, I forgot your fear of me.” He inclined his head in a tight little bow and left the room.
Elizabeth sat in the chair and stared at the closed door. “I’m not afraid anymore. I’m not.” Her brave, defiant words were swallowed by the silence. She lifted her hand and brushed back the wayward curls that had fallen onto her forehead. Was that true? If she was no longer afraid of Justin why was she trembling? Why had she reacted so violently to his touch?
Elizabeth sighed and lowered her hand to the brooch pinned on her gown. If only her grandmother was here. If only she could talk to her perhaps she could tell her what was wrong with her, why she was acting this way. But, since she couldn’t—what about Justin’s grandmother?
Elizabeth smiled, rose to her feet and hurried from the room. If her own grandmother couldn’t speak to her, perhaps Justin’s could!
Elizabeth twisted the doorknob. If Justin’s grandmother was right—if God did have an answer for every situation and problem of life, then maybe she would find her answer here. She smiled at her whimsy and pushed open the door to the library. Answer or not, reading was better than sitting around indulging in self-pity.
There were candles burning.
Elizabeth paused inside the door, but a quick sweeping glance told her the room was unoccupied. She crossed quickly to the rosewood table and gently trailed her finger across the gold lettering on the worn cover of the large Bible. The smell of old leather rose to her nostrils.
She sat in the tapestry-covered chair, lifted the heavy tome onto her lap, and, being careful not to touch the hot globe that protected the flame from drafts, pulled the candlestick closer. It was foolishness, but she was unable to stop the surge of hope that rose in her as she opened the cover to the list of names of the books the Bible contained. Her attention was caught by spidery handwriting in the margin. My favorite story. The inscription was written beside the book of Ruth. Elizabeth settled herself more comfortably in the chair, turned to the beginning page of the story, and began to read.
One by one the candles in the room guttered and died. Elizabeth closed the Bible. What a beautiful story. She could understand why Justin’s grandmother had loved it, though it was sad in the beginning, when tragedy forced Ruth to leave her home and family and travel to a strange place to start a new life.
Elizabeth leaned her head back against the soft chair and closed her eyes. She could imagine how Ruth must have felt since the same thing had happened to her. Still, everything had started to come right for Ruth when she accidentally met Boaz and they married. She opened her eyes and glanced down at the Bible beneath her hands. How very strange! That also had happened to her. She had met Justin accidentally and they had married. She lifted the Bible and placed it back on the rosewood table. That, of course, was where the similarity in their stories ended. Ruth had fallen in love with Boaz and she—
Elizabeth stiffened with shock. Could it be that she had reacted so violently to Justin’s touch because she— No. That was ridiculous. She didn’t love— Elizabeth shook her head, and turned her thoughts back to the story. None of that mattered anyway. Boaz had fallen deeply in love with Ruth, also, and Justin certainly didn’t love her. He had made that very clear.
Elizabeth walked over to the French doors and stood gazing out at the gardens that were washed in the silvery shimmer of moonlight. Why was she even thinking about love? Love did not exist. At least, not love as she defined it. Her mother’s words had left no doubt about that. And she was definitely not interested in the sort of married love Reginald had—
Elizabeth shuddered and turned away from the doors. She walked over to the Bible and again traced the gold lettering with her finger. If God’s word was true, then— She shivered. What if it was true? She hugged herself for warmth against a sudden chill that came from deep inside her. There was no way she could reconcile what her mother had told her—what Reginald had demonstrated to her—with the love she had read about in the Bible. She looked down at the large tome that was bathed in moonlight. What if her mother had lied? What if love, as it was written of in the Bible, did exist? What if there were men like Boaz who—
Tears stung Elizabeth’s eyes. Her throat closed. She blinked the tears away and looked around the room. She suddenly felt hemmed in—trapped. If the Bible was true…if love was real…then…then she would never have a Boaz. She would never know love!
Elizabeth choked back the sobs rising in her constricted throat, gathered her long skirts into her hands and ran from the room.
Elizabeth’s lips curved upward. Her “Someday” dream had returned. But this time it was different. This time, her someday was now, and her someone had a face, and a voice—Justin’s face and Justin’s voice. Elizabeth’s eyelashes fluttered, she turned onto her side, tucked her hand under her pillow and gave a long, soft sigh. It was a wonderful dream.