Chapter Fifteen

 

Johnathan rode his horse down the lane as the rain pelted him, only making his anger worsen. He was soaked through—another stone on his altar of anger—and he dreaded the ride to Cliff Heights House, his Cornwall home. He should have waited for the rain to let up, but he could not remain in that shop for one more minute. What had begun as a good day ended abysmally, and all because Miss Alice Huntington could not remain silent. Had he not instructed her that her only task was to listen and learn?

However, he knew it was more than that. A single instruction that was ignored at this level would only increase and cause more problems later in their relationship. Since Alice was now officially his fiancée and would soon be his bride, it was imperative he nip it in the bud now before it got unmanageable.

As the horse ambled through the drizzle, Johnathan’s mind went back to the beach earlier. Alice had seemed to show what he thought was common sense when he explained to her how important it was for her to observe how he made agreements and negotiated with other businessmen. He had been pleased that she understood his explanation of the similarities between the ocean waves, birds and fish and a business. However, her defiance at every level frustrated him no end, and he flicked the reins in frustration.

The rain lifted enough for him to remove his black top hat and shook off the wetness. It had a smooth surface and a luxurious look with its deep blue silk band at the base of the flue to match his coat. He had not anticipated rain for the day, so the narrow brim did little to keep the rain off his face, but at least it helped. It was well-made and water did not accumulate on it as it might on some of his hats, but shaking off the water gave him something to do and gave his head some relief from the covering. The light mist cooled his forehead before the drops once again gathered to create yet another deluge, and he sighed as he returned the hat to his head. Would the house never come into sight? Regardless of the sense of urgency, he forced the horse to walk rather than gallop. He needed time to cool down his anger as much as his forehead.

His mind returned to the beach of its own accord. This time, however, he found himself remembering how Alice looked as she watched the bird swoop down and grab hold of the fish. When she talked to him, when she was herself and not some clumsy fool, her beauty was astounding. She no longer wore those ghastly eyeglasses, which told him that, for some unknown reason, she chose to wear them rather than because they were necessary for her to see. The pretense confused him, and yet it made perfect sense after today’s debacle. How he could have thought affiliation could be successful, he had no idea. She did not follow instruction—she proved as much when she interjected herself into his and Mr. Johnson’s negotiations. Business was a man’s domain, and it was imperative that she learn as much. He had recognized the pride on her face, but it was misplaced pride, for she could have easily lost the deal completely. The chances of Mr. Johnson being offended by a woman’s attempt at doing business was all too conceivable, and she had to learn to give way to Johnathan’s knowledge and expertise.

When the gates to Cliff Heights came into view, Johnathan let out a heavy sigh of relief. It had been quite some time since he had spent any amount of time here, and it still brought on a feeling of sadness. This was where he and Jane were to reside during the summer months once they were wed, but once she had broken off the engagement, he chose to remain in Exeter for the summer, leaving only three servants in residence. Susan and Hannah kept the house clean and Harold, who had been with the family since before Johnathan was a born, served as the house butler. The trio had been surprised when their lord showed up unannounced, but Johnathan had been pleasantly surprised that the house had continued to be well-maintained even in his absence.

He stopped the horse in front of the house and looked up at the building. It was not as large as some of the country homes in the area, but it was more than adequate for what a family would need. He imagined riding up to the house and looking up at his children’s faces peering down from the dozen or so windows that lined the front of the house, happily waving at him before they disappeared to run down the stairs and out the front door to greet him.

“What rubbish,” he whispered to himself. He had learned long ago that a happy family was not a real entity. The reality was that families hid their secrets behind the stone walls and in the crevices of the large towers that flanked either side of the house. For a brief time, when Jane had been the center of his life, he had thought differently, that what he had seen in his father had been an anomaly rather than the norm. However, that was not the case. Instead, he learned that women were good only for bedding and running a home and nothing more, for they lied to ensnare men into their webs of deceit.

Now, he would be bringing Alice here. The few times he had encountered the woman, he had thought her a bit odd, perhaps even a bit gauche. Now, however, something gnawed at him—perplexed him. Deep down, under all the anger and humiliation he felt in her actions today sat a grain of pride and admiration for her, so small and insignificant, he could barely grab hold of it. Yet, it was there nonetheless. This realization brought on a feeling of confusion, for it was in direct contradiction to the anger he had ridden with from St. Mawes.

Letting out a sigh, he rode around the house to the stables where he shoved the mixture of feelings into a tiny box in the back of his mind and concentrated wholeheartedly on brushing down the horse and giving him oats. The animal had done well and had gotten him safely home.

Now if he could only do something about the safety of his heart.

***

As the rain continued to fall, Johnathan stared out his bedroom window. It was not as heavy, but the strong wind sent the droplets pelting against the window, causing one to believe it was torrential. Lightning flashed in the distance, leaving an eerie glow in the clouds before dissipating to once again leave the sky in complete blackness.

Johnathan took a sip of his cognac and closed his eyes to the light bursts in the sky. His mind turned to Jane in her yellow dress, the sly smile as she adjusted the hat on her head. She had chosen the fabric on the hat from her father’s shop and had convinced Johnathan that she, too, was interested in opening her own haberdasher. Johnathan was all too happy to help her realize this dream, for he loved her deeply and thought her of high intelligence and great wit, two qualities one would need to be successful in any business venture.

Jane’s image disappeared when Johnathan sensed a presence at the door, and he turned and saw Susan standing with her hands clasped in front of her, her head bowed.

“I’m sorry, My Lord,” she said without lifting her head. “I was not sure if you required my…presence this night.” Her voice was barely audible beneath the rumble of the thunder as Johnathan walked past the bed to stand before her. Though the usual stirring deep within him to seek the pleasure in the arms of his help, he stopped for a moment as an image of Alice came to his mind, her smile radiating like the sun. How strange that it was Alice, and not Jane, who appeared before him. However, regardless of the unfamiliarity of what he was feeling, he could not fathom why he would spend a single night with Susan. In truth, the idea of her remaining in the room to satisfy his needs was loathsome.

“No,” he replied in a quiet voice. “Please retire for the evening.”

Susan looked up at him, her brow scrunched. However, she did not argue, but rather nodded and headed back out the door and toward her room the candle in her hand flickering wildly, making the shadows ebb and wane as she moved away.

Johnathan closed the door and leaned against it. What was wrong with him? He had no true loyalty to Alice and had every right to bring any woman he pleased to his bed. Yet, even the thought of doing so now repulsed him.

Angry at his sudden weakness, he grabbed the glass and downed what was left of the cognac and refilled the glass. Then he grabbed his own candle in one hand and his drink in the other and headed to his study. He needed to do something to ease the confusion in his mind.

***

As Johnathan tried to tear thoughts of Alice from his mind, Alice sat in her tiny room attempting to remove Johnathan from her own mind. She was finding the task difficult, to say the least. She was unsure whether she despised him or if she found him appealing, and the battle that raged inside her made it difficult to think clearly.

Alice took another sip of her tea and her mind turned to Sarah Crombly, the woman she had encountered on her journey to Cornwall and to whom she had given one of the dresses she had exchanged. Perhaps it was time to write a letter to the woman. Yet, where would she send it? She knew the woman had mentioned going to Weymouth, but she had no idea how to address the letter. Plus, if the woman had taken Alice’s advice, she would be using a false name. No, she would have to simply wait for the woman to seek her out, for Alice was quite certain their paths would cross once again at some point. However, now was not the time.

She could pen a letter to her parents, but she highly doubted they would be happy to hear from her at this time. She imagined her father tearing it up in anger at her ruining his plans, and her mother, well, Alice was already a disappointment to the woman, so there was no reason to waste the ink and paper. Emily would be much too busy with Lord Ashbury, and Alice did not want to take her away from the possibility of her sister marrying a Baron. The reminder of the fact that her sister had run away would only distress her, and Alice cared much too deeply for Emily to put her in that position.

There was one, however, to whom she could write, someone with whom she could share all of her secrets, so she grabbed a quill, dipped the end in the ink and began to write.

 

Dearest Thomas,

 

Though it pains me, I have important news to tell you. I must inform you that soon I am to be married. However, it is imperative that you understand that I do not love him. It would take too many pages to explain, but our union will be one that will benefit my father, as well as myself and my future husband. Lord Blackmoore is like most men, which is to say, he is not like you. I will be opening a millinery in Cornwall, St. Mawes to be exact, for which I am quite pleased. Despite this pleasure I feel for realizing my dream of running such a business, I must admit that I miss you dearly.

 

In saying all this, I only hope that you will find it in your heart to one day forgive me for not waiting for you.

 

It became difficult to see through the tears that filled her eyes. Later, she would complete the letter, but for now, she set it aside and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. She pushed the chair back and stood for a moment, listening to a blast of thunder that shook the large windows at the front of the shop. How sad and alone she felt at that very moment as memories of Emily rushing into her room came to mind. Alice would hold her tight and soothe her until the panic and fright left her. How she missed those simple days.

As she looked out across the road, the lightning illuminated the ocean waves for a moment, leaving a streak of light in her vision, and she rubbed at her eyes in an attempt to clear them. No one was about, not in this weather, as most were safely tucked away in their homes or at one of the inns. She had no doubt that the weather would continue to be rough over the next weeks as she and Johnathan got the store ready. However, not only would the weather be turbulent, but Johnathan’s anger and his outlook on life would create a tempest between them where a storm now only brewed.

Despite her desire to once more run away, she found she could not. She had given her word to marry him, and though he made life unbearable, he was helpful in many ways in readying the shop. Then a thought occurred to her and she straightened her back. The choice might not be hers as to whether or not she married the man; however, whether or not she was miserable was at her discretion. Even if the storm raging both outside and in continued, she took hope in the future. Thomas would know what she was doing and why, and although she knew he would forgive her, he always did, one question still remained.

Would she be able to forgive herself?