Chapter Seven

The next morning a loud pounding on the door awakened me. I wrapped quickly in a dressing gown and hurried downstairs. A cheeky lad whistled rudely as he handed me an express letter. I tossed him a coin and hurried into the kitchen. After lighting the stove and filling the teakettle, I tore open the letter.

Dearest Cassandra and Mrs. Loch,

Yesterday in conversation with Sir Winslow and then with the butler, I discovered a terrible mistake had been made.

A week ago, when the attending physicians informed Sir Winslow that Frederick’s end was near, Sir Winslow begged me to write the expresses to be sent off after the terrible event had occurred. I did so, of course, for he was incapable of such exertion himself. I deposited the letters in the butler’s pantry for posting.

I know you will be overjoyed to learn that Frederick is very much alive. During that terrible evening as we all waited for the end and Frederick’s pulse was so weak that a few minutes must have concluded his suffering, his fever broke. He became cooler, and his pulse strengthened. In a few hours, he was lucid, and he has been slowly gaining strength. I cannot express our joy at this miracle.

Before Frederick’s rallying occurred, the butler, believing that all was over, posted the letters. I did not discover this until yesterday. I immediately sent this letter express to you. I know you will all rejoice in this amendment.

Your dear mother is bearing up as well as can be expected after such an emotional ordeal. She sends her love.

With true regard,

Rosamund

I flew upstairs to impart the glad tidings, and for a few hours, gloom disappeared and joy reigned. We had a merry breakfast of tea and toast, and we all commented on the amazing circumstances that had brought us together in this little cottage by the sea. We ignored Aleta’s situation for the moment as we chatted, recalling shared memories and discussing long-past events.

As the day went on, our thoughts turned to more sobering subjects, and Lila had this to say: “Aleta, let us look in a practical manner at your dilemma. You are of age to marry without permission. Considering your condition, why do you and Ivan not wed immediately?”

Aleta raised her eyes, beautiful and blue-green as the summer sea, and gazed at each of us in turn. She slowly shook her head. “Ivan’s uncle threatened to change his will if Ivan married a woman without parental sanction and with no dowry. Ivan left me in the hope of persuading his uncle to reconsider.”

“Does Ivan know of your condition?” inquired Lila.

Aleta shook her head. “I became aware of it myself only a week ago.”

“Does anyone at all know?” I asked.

“Only you and Lila.”

“You must write Ivan immediately, Aleta. He must marry you.”

Aleta rose and paced the room. “I cannot. What would we live on? No, I must bear the child in secret and then—”

“And then?”

She turned a gloomy face to me. “I will give the child away to someone else to rear. And Ivan will never learn of its existence.”

“Oh, good heavens, Aleta!” hissed Lila. “You cannot give away your child! What about Ivan’s rights as its father? To say nothing of the fact that you will love your child more than you ever believed you could love anyone. You will walk through fire to keep and preserve your child!”

Before Aleta could reply, a rap surprised us. My first thought was of Frederick, and I hurried to the door. John Carter stood before me.

“Good morning, Mrs. Stanfield,” he said with a bow and smile. “I have called too early, no doubt, but I was passing and had a few extra minutes.”

“Come in. We are having tea, and I would like to introduce you to my younger sister.”

John followed me to the dining parlor and bowed to the other ladies.

“Aleta, may I present Dr. Carter. John, my sister, Miss Tenley.”

Aleta nodded, and John made another brief bow. As he seated himself, Aleta regarded him closely. He was certainly handsome in his brown plaid jacket and polished riding boots, and Aleta was as rosily lovely as a June day. The old green ogre, jealousy, arose in my bosom.

I took my seat and commented on the weather, but Aleta interrupted me. “So, Dr. Carter, I understand you have been a great friend to my sisters. I hope I can count on your friendship as well.”

“Certainly,” he replied, sitting forward and folding his hands on the table.

“I find myself in a difficult situation,” Aleta continued, “and I would value your advice on—”

Lila touched Aleta’s arm. “I beseech you, Aleta, do not air these family matters to Dr. Carter. John, pray forgive my sister. I do believe she has taken leave of her senses!”

An uncomfortable silence ensued for a moment, the very air in the room as still as stone. Abruptly John rose to his feet and addressed us all. “I will bid you good day, for I fear I am an unwelcome interruption to a sisterly conference. Miss Tenley, if you require any advice of mine, as a physician, please inform me. I will be happy to oblige.”

“I will see you out,” I said. I accompanied John to the front gate, where his horse was busily pulling grass from between the fence palings.

“Our family difficulties seem always thrust upon your shoulders,” I exclaimed with a smile.

He took my hand and regarded me gravely. “I was surprised to hear your sister introduced as Miss Tenley. She is with child, is she not?”

My eyes opened wide. “How did you know that?”

He shrugged. “A few little indications—rosy skin, bosom too large for her thin frame—and fabric discolorations where her gown had been let out along the seams.”

“Good heavens! You certainly eyed her well!”

He laughed. “A doctor’s habit, I’m afraid.”

I hated myself for my next words but spoke them anyway. “I suppose you think her very beautiful. She was always considered the prettiest among her sisters.”

He leaned forward, took my face in his hands, and whispered, “I do not know if she’s pretty. When you are present, there is only one woman I see.”

My face felt hot, and I gripped the gatepost and turned away. We regarded each other silently, the longing in his eyes no doubt reflected in mine.

John suddenly turned from me and busied himself adjusting something on his saddle. I lowered my eyes and stilled my galloping heartbeat by examining a climbing rose, whose few pink blossoms defied the season.

Recovering my composure, I straightened my back, folded my hands in front of me, and faced John. “This will not do, John. I am not free, and it is wrong of you to treat me as if I am. Each time you touch me, you add to my shame and misery. If Mr. Stanfield divorced me tomorrow, nothing would change. It would be inconceivable on your part to marry me. I would be in disgrace, and you would be dragged into it with me.”

He paced a few steps and sighed. “You are correct. Forgive me. I have no wish to cause you pain. As to marriage, if we reached a decision at some future time to wed, we would put out the information that you are a widow. I despise that sort of ploy, but I could not allow our happiness to be destroyed by the foolish prejudices of ignorant minds.”

“Indeed,” I replied slowly, “such a plan could succeed perhaps. But what if it did not? What if my true situation were found out?”

“In such a case, we would make our home in Ireland.”

His statement shocked me, for I was convinced in my own mind that he would never leave the burial place of his wife and babe. A shiver slipped through me, for his willingness to return to Ireland indicated the depth of his love for me.

“John,” I blurted, “why on earth do you love me?”

He grinned and approached the rose vine. Finding a healthy blossom, he held it out to me. “Do you see this rose, Cassie? While other flowers have succumbed to the chill, this rose has burst into bloom. It is courageous; it is undaunted—and you are like this fair blossom. I fell in love with you when I tied you to a rock and you jumped into the sea to find a clam. How could I not love such a bold spirit—not only bold but clever and quick to learn. Lila says I am besotted, but I would choose the word ‘bewitched.’ ”

“Bewitched? And what if the spell comes to an end?”

He laughed but then turned a serious face to me. “I never thought I would love again, Cassie. I cannot pretend to understand the nature of my sensations, nor could any man in love, I suspect. You are the flame that has warmed my cold heart; you are the key that has unlocked me—I could probably think of any number of foolish metaphors but will stop there.”

I longed to embrace him, but instead I faced him squarely, regarding him unflinchingly. “Your love honors me,” I stated, “but from this moment on, I desire to hear nothing more. I am not free and likely never will be. I greatly hope you will be a friend, a dear family friend. Beyond that, nothing. No further discussion of love or marriage, no proclamations of attachment.”

He made no move toward me and kept his hands at his sides. “I will heed your wishes,” he stated. Without another word, he bowed, mounted his horse, and trotted down the path to the lane.

I stared after him, grateful for the cool breeze that soothed my hot cheeks.