Chapter 15
H awthorne House was by far the smallest place Joanna had ever called home, and though Papa would deem the parlor cramped, she thought it was delightfully cozy. An intimate space that was warmed by the glow of the morning light, which filtered through the windows and danced over the beams that crossed overhead. The wood bore signs of its age, darkened and weathered by the years, though the plaster covering the stone walls was pristine, making the room feel all the lighter.
Outside, the wind stirred the trees, barely audible over the soft hum of female voices and the steady tick of the grandfather clock in the corner.
Gathered together, she sat with her new mother and sister as their fingers carefully guided their needles through the linen. Turning her embroidery hoop over, Joanna tied off the stitch and cut the thread with a snip of her scissors before taking up the next color and rethreading her needle.
“The evening was perfect,” said Sadie, her fingers moving quickly along. “Betsy and Valerie adore you, Joanna.”
“You were kind to introduce me. I was certain no one would wish to talk to me,” began Joanna, glancing at the others. Mother gazed back, and Joanna tried to discern any sign of distaste or encouragement in the placid expression. The old, familiar fear bubbled up, taking hold of her tongue as she began to babble.
“Not that I expected Thornsby to be unfriendly,” she added. “But it is just so frightening to start a new life in a new place. I was determined to be brave, but I fear I was quivering like a jelly when we arrived. I do hope I made a good impression—”
“You did beautifully,” said Mother.
Joanna straightened, her breath catching for a brief moment. “I did?”
“Several of the matrons asked me if you might wish to assist with the various fairs and charity events the church organizes during the summer months. I assured them you have quite an eye for organization and decoration.”
“I do?” Joanna fought not to blush, but the question slipped out before she could think better of it—both because she hadn’t considered it a talent of hers and because her mother-in-law had noticed it.
“Of course,” said Mother with a nod. “I was afraid Eddie’s bedchamber would be far too small for the pair of you, but you’ve done wonders with rearranging the furniture. And he certainly wasn’t the one to put in those little touches that have made it far more inviting.”
“It was just a few pictures and a vase of flowers—”
Mother sent Joanna a censorious look that had her snapping her mouth shut. “Do not dismiss your gifts, young lady.”
Glancing over at the others’ work, Joanna raised her brows at Sadie’s embroidered bouquet. “If anyone has a gift, it is you. That is beautiful. I fear I haven’t the eye for detail or the patience required to do it justice.”
Sadie ducked her face away with a smile but shook her head. “You are too kind—”
Before the lady could offer more protests, Joanna held up her scraggly work, and though Sadie was kind enough to remain silent, her eyes widened at the uneven stitches. Mother glanced between the pair, a spark of pleasure in her eyes, and Joanna nearly preened at the clear sign of approval.
With a little prodding, Sadie continued to talk about the splendors of the evening, but as much as Joanna yearned to take part, she struggled to see past the look Edward had given Miss Longville. Seeing it firsthand was difficult enough to bear, but the more she considered it, the more she realized why the pain was so acute: Edward never looked at her in that manner.
Yes, he was affectionate, and their marriage boasted all the intimacies one expected, yet something was lacking. Something Joanna hadn’t realized until she saw it in his face last night. Desire? Passion? Though present in their private moments, those sentiments rarely made themselves known outside their bedchamber, and Edward certainly never looked at her in that fashion. With appreciation. Hunger.
Not that she expected him to make a spectacle of himself, but all those little touches and tokens common amongst the newly married were conspicuously absent between her and her husband.
“Joanna?”
Jerking from her thoughts, she turned to find Mother now seated beside her on the sofa, her brows pulled tight together as Sadie pretended to be occupied with her work (though she cast several covert glances in their direction). And it was then that Joanna realized tears were gathering in her eyes.
Batting them away, she fixed a smile on her face. “Yes?”
Mother silently placed an arm around her shoulders, and Joanna leaned into her. Forcing herself to remain calm, she didn’t cry, but between Edward’s behavior and his mother’s kindness, it was a near thing. Sadie continued to work, though the sly looks Joanna caught were steeped in the same worry emanating from the lady at Joanna’s side, and she reveled in the feeling of having so much concern surrounding her.
Joanna didn’t know why her mother-in-law decided to comfort her, but she wasn’t going to cast aside the gift now given. In Joanna Crosby’s world, embraces and affection had been in short supply, and no matter how her life had altered, Joanna Vaughn wouldn’t allow herself to grow complacent.
“Thank you,” she whispered, and Mother merely held her tighter, her hand rubbing along Joanna’s arm.
The parlor door swung open, and Joanna jerked, turning to hide her face from the invader—doubly so when she heard Edward’s greeting. Drawing in a deep breath, she steadied herself before facing her husband, who swept into a low bow and offered up a bouquet of wildflowers.
Joanna didn’t know what to say. That which would’ve made her giddy yesterday left her feeling hollow today. But her confusion only grew when neither Mother nor Sadie greeted Edward’s appearance with their usual eagerness. Both ladies looked at their kin with suspicion, and when he straightened and glanced about, the gentleman shifted in place and cleared his throat.
“I am here to invite you on a picnic,” he said, offering the flowers once more.
“A picnic?” asked Mother.
Edward shifted from foot to foot. “We’ve explored a bit of Thornsby, but I wanted to show her Tortwick Abbey now that the weather has decided to cooperate.”
Joanna didn’t know what to say; having heard much about the ruins, she longed to see them, but the thought of being trapped with Edward for hours as they traveled to and from the site was more than she could bear.
Nodding away from the others, he lowered his voice. “May I speak with you in private?”
With a fortifying breath, Joanna nodded and followed him into the corridor before Edward shut the parlor door.
“I know you are upset with me, and you have every reason to be,” he whispered, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. With a heavy sigh, Edward shook his head. “In my foolishness, I thought I might avoid addressing it directly, but you deserve a proper apology.”
Handing her the bouquet, he took her free hand in his. “I wish I had some better explanation, but I swear to you that my behavior last night was not indicative of my faithfulness. I simply fell into old patterns and…”
Edward drew in a deep breath and winced. “This marriage is still so new, and being in old familiar places makes it easy to forget that my life has changed and I am no longer a bachelor. I would never wish you to feel as though you are not enough for me or that I possess a wandering eye. Unfortunately, my eye simply forgot it was attached to a married man.”
As he clung to her hand, Edward’s expression filled with pleading. “Please forgive me. I would never want to hurt you.”
Joanna supposed that was something. Better to know that the slight hadn’t been intentional nor his actions purposeful. And certainly, she appreciated an earnest apology. However, she couldn’t forget how he gazed at the lovely Miss Longville—or the stark difference in the way he looked upon his wife.
And a new pain struck as she wondered how a new husband could simply forget his wife. Yes, their marriage came about quickly, but surely love ought to erase all others from one’s mind. Joanna certainly didn’t have space in her thoughts and heart for another man, as Edward had secured the whole of it.
Yet weren’t there degrees of love? Clearly, he felt something for her (else his friends wouldn’t have teased him so), but did that mean he loved her as completely as she loved him? And if Edward had come thus far couldn’t a touch more effort on her part secure the rest of his affection?
Edward awaited her answer, his eyes begging her to accept, and Joanna stole a moment by leaning into the flowers to smell them, though the scraggly blossoms had no fragrance to offer. When she straightened once more, she took the pain and packed it away, hiding it deep in the dark recesses of her heart.
“I understand, and I forgive you, Edward.”
Leaning back, he stared at her. “Just like that?”
“Of course,” she said with a bright smile, clinging to the bouquet. “It was a mistake. You didn’t mean it.”
Edward’s brows furrowed. “You aren’t going to take me to task?”
“Not at all,” she said, hurrying up the stairs to their bedchamber. “But I should get these into water and fetch my cloak.”
***
In most circumstances, a picnic was an uplifting activity. Nature was invigorating, especially with a delectable selection of foods at the ready, and the fact that May had decided to shake off April’s gloom and embrace summer early only added to the joy. To say nothing of the inherent excitement that came from introducing a friend to a place that one loved dearly.
Yet as Eddie followed Joanna about the crumbling ruins of the old abbey, he struggled to maintain an affable expression.
Only two words, yet with Mother’s tone, she’d conveyed far more than a simple question.
A picnic?”
Was it such a sin to take time for his wife? The family didn’t require his assistance, he had no patients to see, and Eddie could think of no better use of his time than mending things with Joanna. Assuming he didn’t make a bigger muck of things.
It seemed Dr. Faegan’s prediction during medical school was more accurate and widespread than a mere profession: Eddie was a failure as a doctor, husband, and everything else.
Hands tucked behind him, he wandered after Joanna as she stared up at the crumbling walls. The ceiling had been lost in the great fire that had ravaged the building, leaving an expanse of bright blue above them. Enough of the structure remained to reveal where each of the grand stained-glass windows must have stood, though the frames were now empty, allowing tree branches to stretch through. Mouth agape, Joanna gazed so far upward that Eddie feared she might topple backward, her eyes taking in each moss-covered crevice of the stone.
“When you said a ruined abbey, I didn’t expect something to rival Westminster,” she said in an awed tone as she stepped through the sweeping archway that led into the tower. The stonework was preserved enough to imagine what it had looked like at its best, but Eddie preferred its current appearance with the crumbling facade coated in thick layers of ivy and moss.
Despite the distraction, Eddie found himself wondering if he was blind to some obvious failing within himself. Clearly, others recognized and judged his frailties, yet he didn’t feel he warranted Mother’s hand-wringing or the dire predictions his lecturers had heaped upon him at medical school.
Yet his own father didn’t trust him to treat their patients. Surely that was evidence enough.
To say nothing of the fact that Joanna was now trapped in a marriage not of her choosing, bound to a man who publicly embarrassed her by leering at other ladies. Though she claimed all was forgiven, Eddie was not so foolish as to believe her words when her eyes still brimmed with disappointment and anguish. Her forgiveness, it seemed, had been naught but lip service, intended to tell him precisely what he wished to hear.
Weaving deeper into the ruins, Eddie shadowed Joanna as she explored every nook and cranny, ready to be of assistance if she required it—though he didn’t know why he bothered thinking he might do anything of value for her.
“What is the matter?” Joanna’s question jerked his attention back to her, and Eddie managed a light expression.
“Pardon?” he asked, but she drew up before him with a furrowed brow.
“You look quite…” she frowned as she studied his features, “…agitated.”
The concern in her gaze felt like an icepick in his heart; this was supposed to be his apology to her, not a time for Eddie to splash about in a sea of self-pity.
“I apologize. I was woolgathering,” he said with a smile, but Joanna continued to study him with knowing eyes.
“That seemed far more unpleasant than mere ‘woolgathering,’” she said.
Drawing in a deep breath, he shook his head. “Do not mind me. I was merely deep in thought and wasting this perfect afternoon. Race you to the picnic?”
Hardly waiting for her to answer, he took off like a shot. Joanna gasped, grabbing up her skirts enough to give chase, and Eddie kept an eye behind him, allowing her to catch up. When close enough, she freed one hand and shoved at him, and Eddie teetered, though the movement threw her off balance more than him. And with a whooping laugh, she put on a burst of speed—though there was no way for her to catch him, so he slowed, allowing her to come abreast of him as they rounded the corner into the chapel.
With her head turned to him as he allowed her to pass, Joanna didn’t see the intruders until she was nearly atop them.