Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Madeline and Adam drove out of the woods and down a gentle slope onto the low, windy grasslands.
A herd of black-and-white cattle grazed nearby, and they lifted their heads and stared, as if they were perplexed to see Madeline, who was not the woman they had been expecting.
Knowing it was a ridiculous notion, she turned her face away from them and looked the other way.
In the distance, up on another hill overlooking the marsh, stood a large, majestic-looking white clapboard house.
Madeline wondered if this was the place she had dreamed about, and wondered further how close her fantasies had been to reality.
Judging by the look of the place, her fantasies had been eerily accurate indeed.
They turned onto the tree-lined driveway that led up to the house, and barely made it to the door before a young boy came racing out to greet them.
Adam obviously wasn’t the only one who had been looking forward to Diana’s arrival.
“My youngest son,” Adam explained with an apologetic tone.
The boy bolted across the front yard. Madeline shifted uncomfortably in her seat, dreading the matter of explaining the mistake and telling him that the woman his father had planned to marry hadn’t even known he’d proposed.
They rolled to a gentle stop in front of the house. The boy approached and took hold of the harness. “Welcome home, Papa.” He gazed timidly at Madeline as he awaited an introduction.
Adam stepped down from the buggy and came around to assist Madeline. “Miss Oxley, this is my son, Charles.”
The boy suddenly lost his enthusiasm. “Miss Oxley? But where is Lady Thurston?”
“She didn’t come,” Adam explained. “There was a misunderstanding, and Lady Thurston’s sister came to visit instead.”
“Her sister?” Charlie gazed uncertainly at Madeline. “Will you be marrying my father?”
Madeline was thankful that Adam answered the question before she had to.
“No, Charles,” he replied. “She is just visiting. I will send another letter to Lady Thurston to clear everything up.”
While the boy led the horse and buggy into the barn, Adam escorted Madeline into the house where the wide center hall was decorated with teal wallpaper and dark cherry columns. An older woman wearing gold spectacles appeared from the back kitchen. She smoothed her skirt with her hands.
“Mr. Coates, you’ve returned.”
“Yes, Mrs. Dalton. This is Madeline Oxley. Diana’s sister.”
Looking bewildered, the woman stared at Madeline.
Madeline saw the situation work itself through the woman’s mind, until finally she nodded in understanding. Madeline forced herself to smile. She would be glad to get these awkward introductions over and done with.
“Madeline, this is my housekeeper, Mrs. Agnes Dalton.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you.”
At that instant, a dark-haired girl came running from the kitchen. “Papa!”
She flew into Adam’s arms. He scooped her up and squeezed her before setting her back down. “Miss Oxley, this is my daughter, Penelope. Penelope, this is Miss Madeline Oxley.”
“Are you Lady Thurston’s maid?” the little girl asked. “Papa said she might bring one.”
Could this possibly be any more humiliating?
Adam quickly interjected. “No, Penelope. This is Lady Thurston’s sister. There was a misunderstanding about my marriage proposal, but it will all be cleared up soon enough.”
If Madeline heard him say sister with that overly explanative tone one more time, she might decide to swim back to Yorkshire!
“So, you will be my aunt, then?” Penelope said.
Despite the setbacks, Madeline couldn’t help smiling at the girl. “I suppose I will be.”
“Will you be living with us, too?”
Madeline tried to imagine living here after Diana arrived, married Adam, and became stepmother to these children.
Could she live here, too? As the spinster aunt?
She glanced up at Adam’s handsome face, noticed the strong line of his jaw, caught the appealing scent of his shaving soap…
No, definitely not.
“I’m just visiting,” she replied.
“For how long?”
“Very briefly.”
“How briefly?”
Thank goodness the housekeeper stepped forward and cut off the interrogation. “You must be exhausted after your journey, Miss Oxley. The crossing wasn’t too unpleasant I hope?”
She was the first person not to make Madeline feel like a big blunder. “It was fairly smooth, thank you.”
“Let me show you to your room. You can freshen up and rest a while, then you can meet Mary.”
“My daughter-in-law,” Adam offered.
He gave Madeline a melancholy look that she wished she could read. Was it an apology for their awkward beginning? Or was it simply disappointment that Diana had not arrived?
He nodded at her, and she knew he was passing his duty over to the others. He was finished with her.
Madeline followed Mrs. Dalton to the staircase, peered surreptitiously over her shoulder at her once future husband.
Without a backward glance, he walked out the door.
* * *
The afternoon sun moved across the sky and glistened outside Madeline’s lace-covered window, shining in her eyes and waking her from her nap.
She stared dazedly at the dappled light upon her quilt. It was a muted, golden glow, unlike anything she’d ever seen in Yorkshire, and she wondered how in the world the sun could be different here, when it was exactly the same sun.
Sitting up, she yawned and realized how exhausted she was after the long journey and the horrible, mortifying end to everything.
She hadn’t taken any luncheon. She just hadn’t felt like eating.
Not that she was pouting. She was never one to wallow in self-pity.
All she’d wanted to do was drift into a deep, rehabilitating sleep, then wake up and feel ready to begin again.
But as she looked around the bedchamber at the dainty writing desk in the corner—stocked with stationery and a goose quill pen next to a bottle of ink, and a silver candelabra with five new white wax candles just waiting to be lit after sunset—she knew the room had been lovingly prepared for Diana.
Madeline found herself, at that moment, quite unable to pick herself up, as she usually did, and dust herself off.
She thought about Diana then—how everyone loved her and praised her, while comparing Madeline’s shortcomings in the very next breath.
Madeline had never been bothered by it before, not deeply anyway.
She’d not permitted herself to be bothered by it, and she was always firm when it came to her emotions and keeping them in check.
She could sweep away the most painful insults or degradations with a mental wave of her unfalteringly strong will.
On that account, in childhood and adulthood, too, she’d crushed any interest in wishing for—or competing for—the kind of attention Diana received.
Madeline had never expected to participate in the same game of flirtation in the marriage mart, nor had she wanted to.
She was much happier going her own way, spending time alone, outdoors in the garden, while Diana preferred to socialize and charm anyone and everyone who crossed her path.
Today, however, for the first time, Madeline felt the sharp claws of envy boring under her skin. Adam had not been charmed by her, not in the least. He’d looked right through her, just as he had all those years ago when he’d come to the house to court Diana.
Determined not to spend another beastly moment feeling sorry for herself, Madeline rose, slipped her tiny stockinged feet into her black buckled shoes, and prepared to venture downstairs.
As she reached the end of the hall and the top of the wide staircase, however, someone called her name from one of the bedchambers. Madeline turned back, and there—lying on a wide, canopied bed—was a pretty and very pregnant young woman. She couldn’t have been more than eighteen.
“You must be Madeline,” she said cheerfully. “Mrs. Dalton told me you were sleeping. Please come in.”
Madeline moved all the way into the room.
“I’m Mary, Jacob’s wife. He’s off in the fields today, planting the spring crop. You’ll meet him at supper.”
“I will look forward to it,” Madeline replied. She glanced discreetly at Mary’s full belly with an open book leaning upon it. “How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Fine, today. Though I’ve had some pains recently and the doctor suggested I rest until the baby comes next month.” Mary gestured with a hand. “Please sit down.”
Madeline took a seat in an upholstered chair beside the bed.
Eyes warm and caring, Mary leaned forward and gently touched Madeline’s hand. “Mrs. Dalton told me what happened—that you thought you were coming here to marry Mr. Coates. I felt horrible when I heard it. It must have been very distressing for you. Are you all right?”
Surprise, more than anything, shook Madeline. Mary may have been young, but she was astute.
“Of course, I’m fine. It was just a misunderstanding.”
“Misunderstandings can sometimes be more than that.”
Madeline swallowed hard over the lump that suddenly rose in her throat.
“Yes, but honestly, Mr. Coates and I were strangers to each other. There were no hurt feelings. I should have guessed something was wrong initially, before I set out to cross the ocean. I should have known he would want Diana. They were close once, after all.”
Mary nodded and leaned back, but Madeline suspected that the young woman knew what was really going on.
A part of her wanted to confide in Mary, but Madeline bit back the urge.
If in time, Adam did marry Diana, Madeline would never want anyone to know how she herself had loved him.
She didn’t want everyone to pity her as the poor, brokenhearted spinster sister.
That would be the worst fate imaginable.
Her pride would never be able to endure it.
Madeline politely stood. “I should go downstairs to see if I can help with supper. Can I get you anything?”
“No, thank you. Mrs. Dalton usually brings me supper on a tray.”
Feeling shaken, Madeline nodded and left the room, promising to return later for a visit and perhaps a game of cards.
She walked down the stairs, sliding her fingers along the smooth oak handrail that swept around in a scroll to the newel post at the bottom.
She ventured into the stone kitchen at the back of the house to find Mrs. Dalton at the enormous fireplace, spooning drippings over a crispy-looking hen on a spit.
The glorious smells of roasting poultry filled Madeline’s senses and her mouth began to water.
Mrs. Dalton wiped her hands on her apron and straightened, then noticed Madeline in the doorway. “Hello, dear. Come in and sit down.”
Madeline moved into the room. “After six weeks at sea, Mrs. Dalton, this kitchen smells like paradise. Can I help you with anything?”
“Not today. You’ve just arrived. Tomorrow you can help.”
Just then, footsteps pounded over the wide floorboards in the center hall and stopped in the doorway.
Madeline, somehow recognizing the sound of Adam’s boots, turned with a sudden nervous sensation in her belly.
“Miss Oxley, may I speak with you, please?” His tone was serious and steely.
She swallowed. “Of course.”
He led her into his private study, a large room with dark green wallpaper and a fireplace flanked by bookcases built into the walls. The rug was soft under her shoes.
Adam stopped in the center of the room, faced her and clasped his hands behind his back. “I realize that you’ve barely had a chance to settle in, but I would like to send Jacob back to the fort this afternoon with the letter, to see that it gets to Halifax with the next traveler.”
“The letter?”
Distracted, she gazed at Adam’s dark features—the set of his jaw, the straight line of his nose. His black coat was gone now, and he wore a white linen shirt with plentiful gathers off his broad shoulders, and a navy silk embroidered waistcoat that hugged the masculine shape of his torso.
He had filled out since the days she’d known him in Yorkshire.
He had been slender then. Now he seemed stronger, more muscular.
She suddenly thought of all her romantic daydreams during the crossing, how she had imagined Adam kissing her on their wedding day.
She’d imagined all of it in great detail—the way he would look at her with love in his eyes.
The feelings of love she’d experienced herself, in those moments, had felt so true. They still felt true.
“The letter to my solicitor in London,” he said. “I wish also to write to Diana, of course. You mentioned you had the address where she is currently residing.”
Torn abruptly from her fantasy, Madeline felt a heaviness settle in her stomach. “Yes, I have it. In one of my trunks. But I haven’t unpacked them yet. I don’t know where—”
“They are upstairs in Penelope’s room. You were resting when they arrived and I did not wish to disturb you.”
“I see.” Speaking to Adam now, she had to remind herself that whatever she had fantasized about during the crossing was just that—a fantasy. She and Adam were strangers. There was nothing between them. Nothing.
“I’ll get it right away,” she replied in a congenial tone, then turned to go.
“Madeline—” He took what sounded like an anxious step forward.
She stopped but did not turn around. She didn’t wish to see his face. Nor did she want him to see that her smile was not real. She didn’t want him to know that she was disappointed or unhappy or affected in any way. She didn’t want him to know anything.
“Do you believe Diana will say yes?”
Madeline considered it for a moment, and turned her head to the side to answer his question honestly. “Yes, I do believe she will. She never forgot you, Adam. You always held a special place in her heart, for you were her first love.”
“Thank you,” he said simply. “That gives me hope.”
She nodded and walked out of the room, all the while trying to ignore the questions and hopes still dashing about in her brain. Trying to ignore the way her skin had erupted in gooseflesh just from the mere sound of his voice and the way he looked, standing before her, here in the flesh.
Oh, it would not do her any good to continue her fantasies about him.
To continue to think of him in a romantic way.
She had to stifle these reactions. She had to remind herself ten times a day if necessary that if Diana accepted his proposal—which Madeline believed she would—that would make Madeline his future sister-in-law.
If she knew what was good for her, she would crush and bury her childhood dreams as quickly as possible, and never let them loose again.