Chapter Fourteen

Two days later, I received a strange assortment of missives: an express from my husband, an express from my father, and a letter from Rosamund. I gave Rosamund’s letter to Lila and tore open the express from Charles. I was not surprised at the contents.

Cassandra,

I have gone to Riverbend and have no intention of returning to London. Unscrupulous persons have spread lies about me, and the spiteful gossips of the ton have ensured that I no longer have a place in London society.

Let me be very clear: I have no intention of seeking a divorce. You must return to me and resume the duties of a wife. Surely you can comprehend that marriage to another woman is now out of my power. I must produce an heir for this estate; my mother will give me no peace until I do. You married me, Cassandra, and it is your duty to provide me with children.

I have contacted Sir Winslow and asked him to join his voice to mine. If you still refuse to acknowledge your husband’s authority, I am confident you will not ignore your father’s. You are my wife; your place is with me.

Charles

I growled and threw the letter into the fire. I tore open the express from my father, expecting a command to do my duty and return to my husband.

Cassandra,

My London correspondents have apprised me of the gossip surrounding your husband. He has contacted me and sworn the tale is not true. He asked me to persuade you to return to him, but rest assured I have no intention of attempting to influence you.

My purpose in sending this express letter is to apprise you and Lila of your brother Frederick’s engagement to Miss Gloria Wellborne. He asked me to write on his behalf. I believe she is the proper choice for him. I have given my consent, and her father has also.

In another matter, I heard a strange tale regarding your sister Aleta. She was staying with a cousin in London to recover from a foolish infatuation with a pianoforte master and the dissolution of her engagement to Mr. Willett. The same correspondent in London learned from an acquaintance—and kindly wrote immediately to me—that she is not in London. No one seems to know where she is; do you have knowledge of her whereabouts? I fear she has gone to Gretna Green with the music teacher.

Your mother wonders what we did wrong to rear such wayward daughters. Sparing the switch, I told her, and that is her doing.

Sir Winslow Tenley, Esquire

Lila looked up, and her expression showed she was more satisfied with Rosamund’s letter than I was with Charles’s or my father’s.

“Rosamund appears to be happy with her life in Bath. She writes that Bart’s uncle has been most kind. They will remain in Bath through the winter.”

“I see,” I replied absently.

“Charles’s express brought no good news, I conjecture,” said Lila. “What did Father write?”

“Frederick is engaged,” I muttered. “Forgive me for not sounding pleased, but at the moment I have too much self-pity to rejoice in someone else’s bliss.”

Lila crossed the room and put her arms about me. “I am sorry, Cassie, that your happiness with John continues to be derailed. I suppose Mr. Stanfield once again demanded you return to him.”

“Yes.” I sighed, overcome with sadness. I stepped away from my sister and looked directly into her face. “Lila, you do not know all. He will never release me now.”

Lila led me to a sofa. Holding tight to her hands, I told her of Georgina and Mr. Sparkman’s discovery about Charles. I assured her that my friend and the detective had no part in spreading the story in London.

“Others discovered this peccadillo,” I said, “and now Charles is ruined in society.”

Lila’s quick mind ascertained the rest. “He will be unable to marry if he divorces you. Despite his wealth, no young woman would be able to gain her family’s permission to wed him. He is an outcast and will remain so.”

“I must go back to him,” I whispered. “John must give over all hope of our marriage. It would not be fair to him for me to remain here, a constant reminder of the happiness he might have had.”

Lila nodded and squeezed my hands. “It appears to be your only choice, Cassie, dear.”

“Lila, the children—will you and Mr. McCrea give them a home?”

“Of course we will.”

“Thank you. Sir Winslow’s payments will take all the financial burden from Mr. McCrea.”

“Yes, although I assure you, he would take the children without hesitation under any circumstances.”

I managed a smile. “You have found a good man, and that is one source of happiness I will take with me.”

Lila embraced me, and we held each other, hearing only the ticking of the clock, a sad noise that reminded me of life passing by. Then I rose, feeling a restless need to move about.

“I will write Charles and tell him I’ll come.”

Lila seized my hand as I began to move away. “Cassie, travel now will be difficult. Pray tell him you will arrive in the spring. That will at least give all of us some time to become inured to such a change. And I would not want you to miss my wedding. It is only two weeks away.”

“Yes, I will inform Charles to expect me in the spring, as you suggested. And I must speak to John and explain the situation.”

“John will not be meekly accepting, as I am sure you realize.”

“I do. But he must accept it.”

Three days passed before I had an opportunity to speak in private with John Carter. I had been walking along the cliff by the sea, taking advantage of the sunshine of a chilly, bright day, when he appeared on his road horse. He dismounted, and we walked together. I was silent as we walked, and I sensed his sidelong glances. After waiting a minute or two for me to speak, he asked me outright if something was troubling me.

I halted and faced him. “Yes. I was forced to make a difficult decision. You will not like it, but you must accept it.”

John stared at me. I found it difficult to meet his gaze, for the sea wind ruffled his dark hair and brightened his eyes, and my desire for him was no doubt naked on my face. He drew me into his arms.

“Please don’t,” I whispered. He slowly released me, and I stepped away from him.

“We must discuss the matter at hand. I need you to understand the reasons for my decision.”

“Let us go to my cottage, where we can speak in comfort.”

I nodded, and we walked on, sharing a tacit agreement to say nothing until we reached his home.

Once in the cottage, John quickly dispelled the chill with a leaping fire, while I boiled water for tea. We settled on opposite sides of the parlor. Although I longed to be in his arms, I knew my resolve depended on our staying aloof from each other.

I forced myself to speak so he would not find it necessary to prompt me. “I have heard from my husband,” I began with a trembling voice. “He has gone to his estate in Kent.”

John looked surprised. “In winter?”

I took a breath and commanded myself to continue. “He has been ousted from society in London and intends to remain in the country.”

“Ousted from society? Pray explain.”

“Yes, I will tell you everything.” I then related the entire story—how I had hoped Georgina and Sparkman’s discovery would lead to Charles’s having to divorce me, followed by the shocking news that someone else had already spread the sordid tale of my husband’s proclivities. John listened in silence.

“The result of all this,” I added, “is that Charles is even more determined to maintain his marriage to me. He declares that no other woman would have him. He insists I return to him.”

John did not take his eyes from my face. “And you are planning to do so?”

“Yes. I see no other choice for me.”

“I understand your thinking,” he replied, with a bitter tone in his voice. “I do not agree with it, but I can see that your inability to remarry would lead you to conclude that any husband is better than none.”

“John, that is unfair! My motivation is to set you free! I cannot marry you, so you must forget me and in time…perhaps another woman…”

The notion of John’s falling in love with someone else saddened me unbearably, and I buried my face in my hands, my head rocking back and forth. John crossed the room, squeezed into the armchair next to me, and took me in his arms. I pushed him away and struggled to my feet.

“I will not travel until the spring,” I stammered. “Perhaps Charles’s feelings will change by then. If not, then I must go.”

John’s narrowed eyes and clenched fists spoke his anger and frustration. “I will not let you do this, Cassie. You will not return to the misery of an unhappy marriage in order to set me free. It is unthinkable! How much greater would be my unhappiness knowing you were tied to a man you couldn’t love!”

His unselfish words touched my heart and commanded my lips. I could not prevent myself from whispering, “I love you, John.”

“I love you too. I cannot let you go back to him. Promise me you will not go.”

“I promise,” I replied. “It is not fair to you, but I promise.”

After that day, I spoke no more of my decision or lack thereof. I forced the entire problem out of my head. I wrote Charles to say I would join him in May, and although I had promised John I would not do so, how could I remain in Caemre? Giving myself a holiday of suffering, I focused on the activities and events in my family.

With Lila’s wedding fast approaching, I must digress into a description of her husband-to-be, Farmer Jesse McCrea. The first aspect of Mr. McCrea that caught my notice was his tendency to be very busy, exactly like Lila. The two of them were constantly doing and planning; crop rotations, market prices, horses, cattle, farming equipment, and such absorbed them entirely. Lila loved to run about and manage whatever needed (or didn’t need) management, so a farm was the perfect venue for her efforts and McCrea the perfect partner.

Jesse McCrea was a fair-haired, tall, slender man of about forty years of age. He was quite gentlemanly in his appearance and speech, and—I learned in time—extremely well read. Like Lila, he had an interest in everything, and his stately farmhouse had one room given over to a library. The hundreds of books he had collected over the years were well worn from being thoroughly read and then used as references. He had little interest in poetry and novels, but in books of information he was insatiable.

I happened to be alone with Jesse McCrea in the parlor one morning, a few days before the wedding. His latest interest was the law, and he was eagerly describing a tome he had recently acquired, when he stopped talking and stared for a moment.

“It has just occurred to me,” he stated, “that your sister Aleta might be unaware of the laws governing ownership of children.”

“What do you mean?”

He hemmed and hawed a bit, probably because he was uneasy discussing Aleta’s situation. I smiled and said, “You need not be afraid to speak with me about Aleta. I feel certain Lila has imparted the entire story.”

“Aye,” he replied, “she has, but it did not occur to me until this moment that according to the law, Aleta’s child will be the property of its father. If she continues her plan of giving the child away and Ivan Wellerton happened to discover the child’s existence, she could run afoul of the law.”

“Is that true?” I demanded, a cold shiver running down my back.

“It is indeed. As I’m sure you know, every husband owns the children born in a marriage. Although the law is a bit vague on child ownership in cases where the parents are unmarried, precedent indicates that his rights are nearly always held over hers.”

“Good heavens! Aleta’s child will belong to Ivan Wellerton.”

“It will,” agreed McCrea. “It’s possible Ivan might never learn of the child, but consider this: What if, in a year’s time or so, Ivan convinces his uncle to sanction his marriage to Aleta. How would she feel marrying him, knowing she had discarded his child? And if he learned of the circumstance, no doubt his anger would be extreme.”

My mind was racing. “We must convince them to marry right away! The child will then be legitimate, and surely the uncle cannot hold out when presented with a beautiful niece-in-law and an enchanting child.”

“I agree with you, Cassie. Someone must write to Ivan Wellerton and get him here without delay.”

As soon as an opportunity presented itself, I informed Lila and Aleta of my conversation with Jesse McCrea. I impressed on them the absolute necessity of an immediate marriage. Aleta gasped. She was certain Ivan would not marry her at the risk of losing his inheritance. I tried to extract a promise from her to inform Ivan of her condition, but she replied only that she would consider it.

The busy atmosphere of the cottage took an upward turn as we grew closer to Lila’s marriage. Jesse and his daughters arrived early the day before with a farm wagon to transport Lila’s belongings. I could not suppress a tear as I helped carry her gowns and sundries to the wagon, while rejoicing in the happiness of the couple.

The wedding in Caemre Church the next morning was a bittersweet spectacle for us, and when I said goodbye to Lila, I clung to her.