Chapter Seventeen

Upon reaching North Commons, I dismissed my hired carriage, paying the driver handsomely for his excellent service. The day was chilly and rainy, for it was early spring, and I hastened to pull the bell of the massive door, hoping to see Cratt quickly fling it open.

It was a few minutes before a maid opened the portal. She recognized me and curtsied. “Where is Cratt?” I asked as I hurried inside.

“He is in the winter parlor, ma’am, trying to calm Sir Winslow. Things are quite in an uproar.”

I did not ask questions but instead hurried through the familiar halls to the winter parlor. Raised voices accosted me, so I entered without knocking and halted at the sight before me.

My mother on the sofa held a handkerchief to her face. Cratt gripped the arm of my father, as though to prevent him from striking the gentleman who stood before him. My father shouted and waved his free arm, while trying to shake off the butler.

As I entered the room, they all turned toward me, and I staggered against the doorway in shock. The gentleman arguing with my father was Dr. John Carter!

“John!” I cried.

“There she is!” shouted my father. “You demanded to see my whore of a daughter, and there she is. Now take her and get out!”

John stepped to my father and spoke into his face. “Do not ever, sir, refer in such terms to the woman I love. You speak of Cassandra so, when you have at least three children born of women other than your wife? Your hypocrisy is disgusting.”

My mother wept louder, and I knew not whether to hurry to her or throw myself into the arms of my lover. I simply stood in the doorway and stared. John hurried to me.

“Cassie! Why did you take this long journey alone? My love, I would have gone with you!”

Exhaustion, both physical and emotional, overcame me, and a black cloud blinded my vision. I clutched at John. When I regained my senses, I lay on my mother’s sofa and she and John bent over me. A glance about the room told me that my father had left the scene.

“What happened?” I gasped.

“You fainted,” said John. “You need rest and nourishment.”

I tried to sit up, and John assisted me. “Lady Tenley,” he said, “could you have a substantial meal prepared for Cassandra? She must remain here until she has eaten, and then I order her to bed as her physician.”

My mother wrung her hands. “But Sir Winslow will not allow her to stay.”

“But, why, Mother? I stayed here before.”

“It is my fault,” admitted John. “In the course of my argument with him, I told him I intended to marry you when your husband finally granted a divorce.”

“Oh dear. But how came you here?”

“Let me start at the beginning. When Aleta told me of your clandestine journey, I engaged Lila to assist the villagers with medical treatments. I then left for Kent and, reaching London, asked for the direction to your husband’s estate, believing you to be there. No one was there, and the butler informed me that his master had gone to London.”

“Yes!” I interrupted. “To procure a divorce!”

John’s eyes widened, and his face broke into a smile. “A divorce? Truly?”

“Truly,” I assured him. “He promised to use his influence to assure a speedy decree. But please finish your explanation. How came you to North Commons? What caused the dispute with my father?”

John took my hand and kissed it. His glowing eyes revealed the joy in his heart.

“To continue my story, upon leaving Mr. Stanfield’s home, I came on here, believing you to be visiting your mother. I introduced myself to your parents, and your father—upon learning my identity and place of residence—expressed his opinion that I should leave his home immediately. I demanded to see you, and he declared he did not know your whereabouts and furthermore did not care. In my anger and fear for your safety, I told him we must find you.”

My mother settled herself on the sofa next to me and gently brushed a wisp of hair from my face. “Do not be distressed, my dear. Sir Winslow may be angry, but I am quite delighted with your Dr. Carter.”

“Mama, dear Mama!” I cried, embracing her. “How shall I part from you again?”

Before we could continue our conversation, my father re-entered the room. “Cassandra, I have ordered the coach. You will leave my house immediately.”

Without considering what I was about to do, I called out to him in the strongest voice I could muster, “I will leave, Father, but I am taking my mother with me!”

“That is an excellent idea, Cassie,” John agreed. Turning to my father, he spoke forcefully but calmly, “You, Sir Winslow, have betrayed your marriage vows and forfeited your right to the love and comfort of a wife. I do not know, but I suspect, Lady Tenley has borne a great deal of emotional cruelty in this house. Her three daughters are all in Caemre, and she can enjoy a most delightful visit. Whether or not she returns here is her decision.”

Needless to say, my father ranted and stormed, and my mother wept and delayed; but in the end John conducted both of us to the coach and we set off on our journey to Caemre. It was a most happy voyage indeed! John watched over me to ensure I ate and rested, and my mother improved in spirits with every mile that took her from North Commons. We had much to discuss and explain, and my mother was overjoyed to learn she would soon be a grandmother to Aleta’s child.

The journey was long, for the weather had turned wet and the roads were muddy. But the chat and laughter in the coach as we rocked along for nearly four days dispelled the tedium. John treated my mother with the care and kindness of a true friend, and my mother’s usual silent and fearful bearing disappeared in the warmth of the affection we bestowed on her.

When we arrived at the cottage—seated in an undignified manner in the post-boy’s trap, to my mother’s amusement and delight—we were surprised to see several carriages in the garden and three or four horses in the paddock. I quickly recognized Jesse’s chaise.

Our first welcome came from Mattie, who rushed out to greet us. Lila came next, running to embrace her mother and then me. We were all talking at once as we entered the cottage and saw such a gathering before us—Ivan Wellerton, Jesse, Georgina, Eliot Sparkman, Deirdre, the children, and the village vicar!

With all the noise of greetings, several minutes passed before we learned what was happening. Ivan had arrived a few days before, and he and Aleta wished to marry immediately so her child would be legitimate. The time fixed on was just before our arrival, but Aleta had suddenly collapsed in severe pain. The midwife arrived and conducted Aleta upstairs to begin her confinement.

Upon hearing this news, John stepped immediately to Aleta after requesting that everyone else stay in the parlor until he had finished his assessment of her situation. When he returned downstairs, we all faced him with anxious faces.

“Everything is going on well,” he said. “The pains are three minutes apart. Aleta begged me to send Ivan and the vicar to her. She wants the marriage ceremony to take place for the sake of her child.”

“Dear me!” cried my mother. “I have never heard of such a thing.”

Georgina was standing next to me, with her arm linked in mine. “She will be just as wed, Lady Tenley, as if the marriage took place in the church.”

Ivan grew pale at the notion of entering a birthing room, but he stood straight and addressed the vicar. “Come, sir. You have reservations, I am certain, but it is far better for the babe to be born legitimate, is it not?”

“It is,” the vicar replied.

Ivan seized the vicar’s arm and moved to the stairs. With no discussion, we all followed. We crowded into Aleta’s bedchamber, and after my mother had tenderly embraced her, we pressed ourselves against the walls to provide space for the vicar and groom.

Just as the vicar began to intone the service, Aleta’s body arched upward, gripped by another pain. John leaned over her and pressed his ear against her abdomen to hear the baby’s heartbeat. The midwife unceremoniously peered under the bedsheet. Aleta groaned, but in a minute it was over. Ivan had sunk into a chair, and the vicar signaled him to rise.

“Make it quick!” hissed John. “We are running out of time!”

The vicar sighed and closed his Bible. “Do you, Ivan Wellerton, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“Yes, yes, I do,” whispered Ivan and stumbled into the chair again.

“Do you, Aleta Tenley, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Aleta grunted, but another pain began.

“Aleta, speak!” I called.

“I…I…do,” she wailed.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” rapidly announced the vicar as he ran out of the room.

“Everyone downstairs, please,” said the midwife, “except you, Dr. Carter. I don’t often have the luxury of a medical man for help.”

John ushered us out. “Cassie, have Mattie prepare soup. This birth will soon be over, and Aleta will be hungry.”

“Indeed,” I replied. “I do believe we are all hungry. Ivan, a glass of brandy for you, eh?”

An hour later, our anxious waiting was over. Aleta’s daughter wailed loudly, and no one could stop my mother from rushing upstairs. Aleta and the child were both well, and the rejoicing in the cottage lasted well into the evening. It was a day we would never forget.

The next several weeks were filled with happiness and the excitement of the new baby. My mother was determined to love all the children, and soon six young voices were hailing her as Grandmama. Aleta and Ivan and baby Bridget moved into a tiny cottage in town, and soon James Wellerton arrived to forgive his nephew, fawn over his great-niece, and declare Aleta to be the loveliest angel he had ever beheld. Ivan’s allowance was reinstituted, but the little family remained in Caemre, acquiring a substantial stone house on the outskirts of the village.

One lovely morning in July, a letter was delivered to me. It contained Charles’s apology that he could not visit at this time because of Robert’s mother’s being ill and the necessity of going to Scotland.

But, Cassie, here is the signed and sealed document that will enable you to marry your brave and no doubt handsome doctor. How strange that the dissolution of our marriage has brought us together as friends.

I instantly seized my bonnet and set off at a run to John’s cottage. I prayed he would be at home, and my prayer was answered. I observed him at a window as I trotted breathlessly to the house, and waved. He threw open the door, his eager expression showing he guessed my errand.

I could barely speak from running, so I simply shoved the document into his hand. He glanced at it, clutched me in his arms, and pulled me onto the settee.

After a long kiss that left me breathless, John jumped up and knelt at my feet. I giggled as he took my hand in his and asked me to marry him.

“I don’t know,” I replied, laughing. “It is a very difficult decision.”

He sat next to me and took me in his arms. For a moment, he simply held me. I snuggled against him and caressed his arms and chest.

“I love you, John.”

“I love you too,” he murmured, taking my face in his hands and kissing me. I had no strength to stop him. By the time the kiss ended, we were wrapped in each other’s arms and gasping. John ran his lips over my neck, my arms, my breasts—ecstasy rendered me helpless. My hand roved his chest, feeling the rippling flesh of his muscles. I caressed downward, and he moaned as my fingers lightly rubbed his iron-hard member. I shook with desire, and I prayed he would caress me between my quivering thighs, and he did. I cried out lustily with the release of climax.

“Take off your garments,” John commanded. I pulled myself to my feet and did as he bade me, stripping off my gown, chemise, and pantalettes, until I stood naked before him. He stared at me, his eyes traveling from my tumbling locks to my breasts, to the golden patch between my legs. He rose from the chair and took me by the hand. “Come.”

I followed him upstairs to his chamber, and he helped me lie down upon his bed. He yanked his clothing off and lay beside me. He kissed me deeply, and I caressed him until he could bear his desire no longer. He entered me, and I cried out with pleasure as our bodies joined.

Finally sated, we lay in comfort on the bed. I had no desire to move, and I refused to allow myself to experience anxiety or regret, for I knew my heart and mind and body were his forever. Our joining, to the accompaniment of the love we shared, made us husband and wife in every way that mattered.

We made love again, and his gentleness delighted me. I became even more aware of how greatly superior were his sensibilities and notions from those of other men. When lust was appeased, we pressed our bodies together and held each other in wordless bliss.

The joy of this afternoon of love stayed with me and gave me courage as I faced the dark days ahead.