An hour after Julian left to get the doctor, Ophelia stared at the blank parchment on the desk in front of her. She had made several attempts to draw something, but without being told what to draw, it was proving to be a difficult task to decide what to create.
She’d started drawing different items in the sitting room. She’d started with the bookshelf. Then she grew bored and began drawing the window. And, just now, she had discarded the drawing of the chair she’d been doing. She wasn’t interested in drawing any of those things. In fact, there was nothing in the room that appealed to her.
She placed the quill on the desk. Maybe this was a useless pursuit. Perhaps she’d be better off staring at the wall and daydreaming. She’d done plenty of that in the past. She’d even imagined what kind of person her guardian was. Except, she had imagined someone with a kindhearted smile who was on the short and plump side. She didn’t know why she’d imagined him short and plump. There must have been a story one of the maids had told her when she was a child about a short and plump gentleman who was good to people.
Not that the way he looked mattered to her. She’d been focused on the idea that he would be like a second father. He would tell her about her parents, something the servants never did. When she had asked the servants about them, the servants had shushed her. After a while, she understood they would never tell her about them. She’d hoped her guardian could fill in the stories they’d never told her.
Lord Wolfe had turned out to be so different than she’d expected. With a shiver, she straightened up in the chair. She didn’t want to think of him anymore. She wanted to forget all about him and move on with her life. Whatever kind of life it was going to be.
She glanced around the small room. She had nowhere to go. She had no one who was willing to take her in. Besides drawing, playing music on a piano, and riding a horse, she wasn’t sure what she had to offer in order to earn her keep somewhere.
Just how long could she stay here? Julian would probably let her stay here as long as she was injured, but what would happen to her once she healed?
She didn’t want to think about it. Not now.
She picked up a new piece of parchment and stared at it. What could she draw that might be of interest to her? She scanned the items in the room. Again, nothing struck her as the object she must draw. Her interest in the activity was as blank as the parchment in front of her.
Her gaze settled on the books in the bookcase. Exactly how difficult was it to read one?
She set the parchment down and grabbed the cane. She got up and leaned on it as she slowly made her way to the bookcase. She had to admit that the trousers Julian had let her wear did make movement easier, especially after he adjusted them so that they weren’t quite so loose around her waist and long. The shirt and waistcoat were snug around her breasts, but she had managed to fasten all the buttons.
It was a shame she didn’t know how to sew something useful. The maids had made her clothes. She’d once asked if they would teach her how to make a gown since she’d been bored, but they’d insisted it wasn’t her place to do such menial tasks. Knowing how to do a menial task right now would be useful.
With a sigh, she turned her attention to the books. They were hardbound, and they were different colors. She wasn’t sure which to pick. After a moment, she chose the one with red coloring on the spine. Leaning against the bookcase, she pulled the book out and opened it.
The first page didn’t have much on it. Neither did the next couple of pages. But then she reached a page which had strange markings that started halfway down the page and went all the way down. She turned the page and saw that the next two pages were covered in strange markings from the top all the way down to the bottom. She turned more pages and saw the same thing.
She spent a good ten minutes trying to make sense of the markings. The space between the groups of markings probably indicated a different word. A few words were the exact same. But even noticing this didn’t help her figure out how to read.
Disappointed, she returned the book to its place. There was no sense in checking any of the other books. They probably all looked like that.
She heard a carriage approaching. She grabbed the cane and limped over to the window. Julian couldn’t be back with the doctor. Not this soon. She might not know how to read a book, but she could read a clock.
She leaned closer to the window. The coachman opened the door, and she saw Lord Wolfe inside it. She jerked back from the window. A sharp pain went from her ankle up to her hip. She almost fell to the floor, but at the last minute, she managed to regain her balance.
She couldn’t let him know she was here! Ignoring the pain in her ankle and leg, she hobbled as fast as she could to the bedroom and shut the door. She had to hide. She couldn’t let him find her!
She glanced at the bed. Maybe she could hide under it. She knelt down, ready to do so, when she noticed that books—a lot of them—had been tucked under it. Given how dusty they were, she gathered Julian had forgotten all about them.
There was a knock on the door, followed by Lord Wolfe saying, “Vicar, I have an urgent matter to discuss with you. Open at once.”
Thank goodness Julian wasn’t here! Otherwise, she’d really be in trouble.
Heart pounding in her chest, she waited for the sound of the carriage leaving. Such a sound didn’t happen. Instead, she heard the doorknob turn. Lord Wolfe couldn’t be serious. He couldn’t actually mean to come into the cottage without being invited inside.
But she heard the front door open and Lord Wolfe asked, “Vicar? Where are you?”
She had to do something. She must not—could not—let him find her! She saw the bowl by the bed and the blanket Julian had folded on the bed. An idea came to her.
She slid the cane under the bed, grabbed the bowl, and got into the bed, gritting her teeth against the pain from her sudden movement. She pulled up the sheets to her neck. Then she threw the blanket around her head, making sure her face was hidden. She then put the bowl up to her mouth, and, as disgusting as it was, she forced her finger down her throat until she threw up.
Lord Wolfe opened the bedroom door just at that moment. He waited until she was done vomiting before he said, “My apologies, Vicar. I had no idea you were sick. You seemed well yesterday when I talked to you about doing the wedding.”
Julian was supposed to marry her and Lord Wolfe? Had she known that, she might have thrown up without the help of her finger.
“I wouldn’t have barged into your parsonage except the matter is of great urgency,” Lord Wolfe continued.
Since he seemed to expect a response, she let out a low-pitched grunt, making sure to keep her head lowered so he wouldn’t see her face.
“Has a young lady been by?” Lord Wolfe asked. “She might have stopped by last night or even earlier this morning.”
She shook her head and coughed so that she didn’t have to use her voice to answer him.
He sighed. “She has to be somewhere in the area. She’s on horseback and alone. She couldn’t have gone too far. If she happens to come by, you must notify me at once. I’ll leave a note on your desk so you know where to contact me.”
She grunted and nodded. Then she held her breath and waited for what he’d do next.
Would he start to search the room? Her soiled clothes were at the bottom of the armoire. Julian hadn’t even closed the door all the way when he’d given her his old clothes to wear. It was open by a few inches. Was it open enough so that Lord Wolfe would notice? Or would he lift the blanket off her head and expose her? Would he make sure he was really talking with the vicar? Did he see right through her ploy?
She glanced at the bowl in front of her and, as she hoped, the sight of her vomit made her throw up again, but this time, only clear fluid came out.
Lord Wolfe stepped out of the room and shut the bedroom door. She put the bowl on the floor in front of the bed, but she remained still under the covers.
She listened as he moved through the cottage. She closed her eyes and prayed she hadn’t left anything out there that would expose the truth. She didn’t think she had. She thought she’d been careful. But she hadn’t expected Lord Wolfe to show up.
After a few minutes, she heard the front door close. She bit her lower lip and waited until she heard the carriage moving before she lowered the blanket from her head. Was that it? Was he really gone?
She waited until the sound of the carriage grew faint before she pushed aside the blanket and gingerly got out of the bed. After retrieving the cane, she limped over to the small window in the room. She could barely make the carriage out from the angle she was at, but she was assured it was a good distance from the cottage.
She collapsed against the wall and released her breath. That had been close. Much too close. Lord Wolfe knew she had run off, and worse, he was searching for her. There was no way she could leave this cottage now. Not until he gave up searching for her.
She put her hand to her forehead. How was she to know her guardian had spent all of her life grooming her for marriage to him? No one had warned her. Nor had anyone told her he was the kind of gentleman who demanded he get what he wanted. She willed aside the reminder of his lips on her mouth and his hands on her body.
No, she mustn’t think of that. She had other things to worry about. For one, she had to clean out the bowl before Julian found it. And two, she had to take it easy on her ankle. It was throbbing in pain. She glanced down at it. It didn’t seem any more bruised than before, but she did see blood soaking into a part of the trousers she was wearing. That wasn’t good. She’d just undone the progress Julian had made.
A little blood is better than Lord Wolfe finding you.
Yes, she was much better off aggravating her injuries than being hauled off to be with Lord Wolfe. She would rather bleed all over the place than be his wife.
Once she gathered her bearings, she would clean out the bowl. Afterwards, she could deal with her wounds. Perhaps Julian would return with the doctor by then.
***
“You need to stay off the ankle for one to two months,” the doctor told Ophelia as he finished putting a splint on her ankle. “The cut you have on the leg will be fully healed by then, but I have to warn you that you’ll have a nasty scar. There’s nothing anyone can do about that.”
Julian left the window and went over to Ophelia and the doctor. “But she’ll be able to walk, won’t she?”
“Yes,” the doctor said. “She’ll be just fine. Fortunately, she fell at the right angle. If she hadn’t, things would be different.”
Julian was relieved to hear this. He’d hate to think the injury would be permanent. One could live just fine with a scar.
The doctor smiled at Ophelia. “Take it easy. I know ladies have a tendency to want to work around the home, but you’ll be doing your husband a bigger favor by letting him do the tasks.”
Ophelia’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’m not married.”
The doctor frowned and glanced over at Julian.
Catching the disapproving look in his eyes, Julian hurried to explain, “We only met last night.” At once, he realized that sounded worse. “She was traveling through the area, and she fell off her horse. I brought her in and took care of her.” He cleared his throat. “I put healing ointment on the cut and wrapped her leg in bandages. Then I let her sleep in the bedroom. I slept out here on the settee. Then when we woke up, we ate breakfast, and I went to get you. I swear, nothing inappropriate happened.”
“He’s right,” Ophelia jumped in, probably to stop him from rambling. “Nothing happened.”
The doctor’s expression relaxed, and Julian felt his heart rate go back to normal. He was a vicar. He had an example to live before others. He didn’t have the same liberties other gentlemen did. Had he been any of his brothers, the only thing the doctor would expect was that he be discreet.
The doctor stood up and walked over to Julian. Keeping his voice low, the doctor said, “You need to take her to her family before the end of today. You can’t afford a scandal.”
“I understand,” Julian replied.
Julian paid the doctor and waited for the doctor to get on his horse before he directed his attention back to Ophelia. He recalled how adamant she was that she not return to the place she’d left. But certainly, there had to be someone she knew who would be willing to take her in.
He cleared his throat. “The doctor made a good point. I’m a vicar. I can’t keep you here. Isn’t there someone I can take you to?”
She shook her head. “I can’t leave. I must stay here.”
“But we’re not married. It’s not right. I have an image to maintain.”
“There’s no one I can trust.” When he indicated he didn’t believe her, she insisted, “It’s true. If you send me away, my situation will be unbearable. I need to be here.”
He had no doubt she believed it. And for all he knew, she might be right. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? He didn’t know what her situation was. “What were you running from last night? What was it that scared you so much?”
“I don’t want to say. It’s not safe.”
“I’m a vicar. I make it a point to keep people’s secrets.”
“This is different,” she said.
“Everybody thinks their situation is different,” he replied. When she didn’t relent, he sat in the chair in front of her. “I serve the Lord. Part of that service is to be a confidant to those who need help. I assure you that I take that service seriously.”
“I believe you. You could have harmed me last night or even this morning, and you didn’t. I feel safe with you.”
“Then why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”
Something changed in her expression, and he expected her to confess what had happened to her. But instead of that, she asked, “Can’t you marry me? Then I can live here with you.”
He stared at her in disbelief. Surely, he couldn’t have understood her right.
“As you said, this cottage is a mess,” she continued. “You could use a wife’s help. I can keep this place clean. All that laundry on your bedroom floor will take a long time to wash if you do it by yourself. You have no servants. There’s no one to help you do anything.”
“This is ridiculous,” he said. “We hardly know each other.”
“What does that matter? There are other couples who marry without knowing much about each other. That happens often, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s not uncommon for couples to marry without knowing each other very well, but—”
It was then that he recalled his conversation with Lord Wolfe yesterday morning. With a gasp, he jumped out of the chair and went to the clock. It was almost noon.
“Did anyone stop here while I was gone?” he asked, his attention returning to her.
She paled. “What?”
“I’m supposed to marry this couple…” He went to his desk and opened the top drawer. He pulled out the book and opened it. Yes, there it was. “Lord Wolfe said he would come by this morning with a lady he’s betrothed to. I’m supposed to marry them. He said he should be here either around ten or eleven.”
He glanced at the clock again. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten all about the wedding he was supposed to perform. He ran his fingers through his hair. How could he have let such an important piece of information slip his mind? Even if he was busy taking care of Ophelia, he should have remembered something as important as a wedding.
“No one’s been here,” she said. “It’s been quiet the entire time you were gone.”
He thought he detected a hint of panic in her voice, but in the next moment, she was standing up, and he hurried to give her the cane so she wouldn’t put unnecessary pressure on her ankle.
She took the opportunity to reach for his hand. “You’re the only one I have. If you don’t marry me, I’ll be forced to roam from one place to another in hopes that no one will hurt me.”
Her situation couldn’t be that desperate. If it was, that would be too awful for him to wrap his mind around. He shoved the possibilities of what she might be running from aside. Some terrible things happened in the world. He wasn’t so naïve that he didn’t know this. Some of the people in his parish had suffered a great deal. The worst situation he’d heard involved the lady who’d had an affair with a prominent gentleman in London. When he found out she was expecting, he beat her until she miscarried. To this day, he didn’t know what was worse: the fact that he’d killed the child or the fact that she refused to stop having the affair.
Ophelia squeezed his hand. “Please help me.”
After a moment, he asked, “Can’t you give me some idea of what you’re going through?”
“There’s a person who won’t take no for an answer. I’ve had to live my entire life doing everything this person wanted.”
He frowned. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-one.”
“And this person never gave you a choice on doing anything?”
“No. What this person wanted me to do was something I just couldn’t bear to go through. I can do many things, but I couldn’t do that.”
“What is it that this person wanted you to do?”
“I’d rather not say.” She squeezed his hand again, her expression imploring him to do what she wanted. “I don’t mean to deprive you of your own choices, but I’m desperate.”
His gaze met hers, and he felt himself relenting. He wished he knew more about what this person had done to her. If he did, he’d be able to help her in the exact way she needed it. But he was given so few facts that he had to work around the holes in her situation.
“You really are twenty-one?” he asked.
Her eyes lit up with hope. “Yes. I turned twenty-one yesterday.”
“And you’re not married? This person you’re leaving isn’t your husband?”
“No. I have no husband. You will be the only one.”
Well, those were the only two things he could think of that would disqualify him from marrying her. She had to be able to consent to a marriage without a guardian, and she had to be single. He sensed her situation was as bad as she claimed, so getting away from the person had been the best thing for her. And if she had nowhere else to go, then what else could she do but ask him to marry her in light of the fact that he was a vicar and people wouldn’t look favorably upon her staying in his home.
He should say no. That was the smart thing to do. But a part of him didn’t want to say no. She had a sweet temperament and was very pleasant to look at. A gentleman would have to blind not to be attracted to her.
Even as he realized he wasn’t making a rational decision, he said, “All right. We’ll marry. I can arrange for us to have a private ceremony with another vicar I know.”
“Thank you.”
Noting her relief, he added, “I can’t marry you today. I have to wait for Lord Wolfe to come by with his betrothed.”
“What if Lord Wolfe doesn’t come?”
He glanced at the clock. Given the lateness of the hour and the fact that the gentleman hadn’t already shown up, Julian realized that was a very real possibility. Who knew if something had happened to break the engagement at the last minute? Such things had been known to happen before. It didn’t make sense to wait here all day when there was the matter of getting a special license.
Lord Wolfe had been insistent Julian be ready for him this morning. He had said he had somewhere important he needed to be before nightfall. If Lord Wolfe had to be somewhere by tonight, then it was safe to assume he wouldn’t come here after one.
“I’ll make us something to eat, and if he hasn’t come here by the time we’re done eating, I’ll get the special license,” Julian finally said. “You’ll need to stay here and get as much rest as you can. The injury is more serious than I thought.”
He started to walk to the kitchen when he realized she was following him.
“I’ll help you cook the meal,” she said.
“Didn’t you just hear the doctor saying you need to rest?”
“But I need to learn how to cook. I can’t do that in the chair.”
“You’re not supposed to cook anything for at least a few weeks,” he replied.
“How can I prove my worth as a wife if I don’t learn how to cook?”
“You’ll have plenty of time to learn.” Since she wasn’t making a move to go to the chair, he picked her up and carried her to it. Once she was sitting, he carefully placed her leg on the ottoman. “The sooner you heal, the sooner you can learn. I already agreed to marry you. Isn’t that good enough?”
“You’re right. It is. But I want you to know I’ll be a good wife. I might not know how to cook, wash clothes, or read a book, but I can learn to do them.”
Surprised she should be so adamant about proving her worth, he chuckled. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were looking for a job. Being a wife isn’t something you have to prove you can do. I’m confident you’ll learn to cook, wash clothes, and read. For the time being, you’ll do both of us a favor if you stay in that chair and let your leg and ankle heal.”
He worried she might argue with him, but she nodded and settled back into the chair. Relieved, he went to the kitchen and got started on their meal.