Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Adelaide could not tell if it was her own heart that raced in her ears or that of the colonel.
All she knew, all she could tell, was how close she had come to total ruination and how the colonel’s presence provided the only solid ground beneath her feet after she had been churned about by harsh, relentless waves.
A door flung open somewhere. It was difficult to tell if it was near or far.
But then a familiar voice shrieked, and Adelaide was forced to unfold herself from the colonel’s chest. He let her go, although one hand lingered at the small of her back, as if he was uncertain if he ought to involve himself further or to disentangle himself while he could.
“And what is the meaning of this?” Aunt Dinah descended the few steps from the side door with the focus of a hawk.
Her eyes took in Mr. Bamburst on the ground before flying to the colonel.
Something flickered in her gaze, as if she’d made a decision that Adelaide was fairly certain would not work in anyone’s favor except Aunt Dinah’s.
“Colonel Avington, I admit myself surprised to find you here.”
“I would think anyone’s presence here would, or should, prove a surprise, Miss Ravenstone.
” There was steel in the colonel’s voice, an unrelenting edge that made Adelaide shudder.
She’d thought him better than most men—but were all of the male species ultimately like her father at the end?
Mr. Pershing, God curse his soul, had fooled their community well enough about his supposed respectability.
And yet, the hand on her back remained gentle.
Aunt Dinah paused only for the briefest moment before straightening. “It is not entirely surprising for me to come upon a courting couple stealing a moment alone, when their engagement is imminent.”
Adelaide forced down that familiar, acidic bile in her throat. “Aunt Dinah, you cannot possibly think—”
“You were meant to marry me!” Mr. Bamburst, having finally regained his footing, snarled angrily. The colonel’s hand pulled Adelaide ever-so-slightly closer. “Your aunt has given her blessing.”
“But I refuse to marry you!” Adelaide cried.
“Does it matter?” Mr. Bamburst’s grin looked even more sinister in the moonlight. “You are far from of age.”
“No one can force a bride to marry against her will,” said the colonel.
“Ah, but a man can do plenty to induce a woman to change her will,” Mr. Bamburst bit back. “A ruined reputation is hardly the thing a girl can recover from.”
“Remember Macy,” said Aunt Dinah under her breath.
Adelaide choked back a sob. Had tolerating Mr. Bamburst’s unwelcome overtures not been enough? Did she have to be made to marry the beast and be chained to him for life?
“Aunt Dinah, there might be other ways—” Adelaide mustered courage from the broken fragments of her pride. “I can provide for you, for Macy, for—”
“You are a ruined woman, my dear,” Aunt Dinah answered with theatrical affectation. “Surely, I cannot allow you to remain unwed after the display I have seen! Alone in the dark with two men—oh dear, even the Pershing name cannot withstand such scandal.”
“A scandal of human machination, I believe,” said the colonel.
Aunt Dinah met him in the eye in challenge. But the colonel must have returned her ferocity threefold, for she broke off the unspoken battle soon enough.
“The reasons do not matter,” muttered Aunt Dinah. “My niece is ruined, and with her the whole family. Mr. Bamburst has kindly offered to repair her reputation, and it behooves me to accept on her behalf.”
“Just so,” said Mr. Bamburst.
“I hardly consider attacking a young lady as a means to repairing her reputation,” growled the colonel.
“Attacking?” Aunt Dinah laughed, her voice as brittle as a witch’s. “I did not see anything of the sort!”
“Does your niece’s distress mean nothing to you?” The colonel loomed forward towards Aunt Dinah. Adelaide curled against his side. “Her fears and her tears and the damage to her dress—”
“A mere coincidence.”
“No, not a coincidence,” The colonel spoke in a voice that brooked no argument. “And Miss Pershing shall not be made to marry Mr. Bamburst.”
“I don’t see what right you have to say anything about it, young man,” Mr. Bamburst argued.
“She must marry,” Aunt Dinah insisted.
“Then she can marry me,” said Colonel Avington.
Adelaide felt her heart still for the second time in an evening, this time for an entirely different reason. It was the best possible outcome, given the circumstances, but Adelaide was under no impression that it was a love match, or even one between friends.
“You do not have her guardian’s permission,” said Mr. Bamburst.
But Aunt Dinah did not speak. This was the outcome she wanted. Having Mr. Bamburst approach Adelaide had only been the means to an end. That much was clear now. Tears stung Adelaide’s eyes.
“Miss Pershing,” the colonel said, his voice at Adelaide’s temple. The darkness obscured most of his features. “Will you marry me?”
Her tongue felt like a solid piece of stone, but Adelaide managed to squeak, softer than the stray whispers of music, “Yes.”
And just like that, the deed was done.
“I take it the engagement is—sudden, sir.”
Richard cast a level look at the solicitor their old butler had recommended. This was technically Richard’s brother’s study, and his father’s before then. But for tonight, with no one else in Town, Richard was the only Avington brother in residence, and it was his room to command.
If only the ungainly young man across the room wouldn’t say things that tugged at Richard’s conscience.
This was someone’s clerk, at best. No respectable, established solicitor would agree to meet him in the middle of the night for a hasty marriage settlement.
But he supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers.
Richard sighed. He’d struggled about Adelaide Pershing—wondered at the wisdom of the alliance, vacillating for weeks between courting and not courting her.
Now the decision had been taken out of his hands. And while he still questioned the wisdom of the match, particularly considering how little he actually knew his bride-to-be, he found himself relieved at the now-foregone conclusion. He had to marry Adelaide. His honor now depended on it.
If his brothers were here, they might suggest other solutions. But Richard frankly didn’t care to hear them.
He’d been unmoored long enough. Uncovering the mystery that was Adelaide Pershing would simply have to be his next mission after the wedding.
“Has the lady any dowry, sir?” The solicitor, or whom Richard presumed to be an aspiring one, inquired next.
Richard grumbled as he fell back against his father’s heirloom chair.
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
“I see, sir. Shall we settle her pin money according to your portion then, sir?”
“I don’t—” Richard sighed. He had independent means.
His dedication on the battlefield had earned him a reward of a country estate.
His father’s prudence had allocated him a portion that he’d chosen to invest. He knew himself to be well-settled.
But what did that mean when it came to supporting a wife, and perhaps children thereafter?
Why had he never thought past all of those things? “I suppose it shall have to be.”
“Yet without the particulars of her dowry—”
“No, we can’t make a proper settlement, can we?”
“No, sir.”
Richard sighed. He hardly knew what he’d been trying to achieve, calling for a solicitor in the middle of the night. Perhaps he needed something with which to tether himself to the reality he’d created for himself. Perhaps he just needed someone to talk to.
Whatever the reason—prolonging the meeting was futile.
“Thank you for your time.” Richard rose. “I shall see to the particulars before we craft a document.”
It was hard to ignore the exasperation on the young man’s face. He bowed nonetheless. “Very well, sir.”
And Richard was alone with his thoughts once more. He had a hunch tonight’s nightmares might be of a different nature.