Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
For the next two days, Adam escorted Lord Blackthorne all over the marshlands, explaining the workings of the dykes and the aboiteaux.
When the lieutenant-governor realized that entire hay crops would be lost and the land would become inoperable if the dykes were not maintained, he became more open to the idea of establishing stronger requirements for the farmers, as well as attaining some funding for yearly maintenance.
Feeling pleased with the results of the visit, Adam and the rest of his family said goodbye to Lord Blackthorne and his servants, and waved to the convoy of carriages as it rolled with a flourish out of the yard.
Adam, at last, could take a breath. Suddenly everything seemed quiet. He turned to see Diana and Madeline standing arm in arm, smiling and waving one last goodbye.
“Congratulations, Adam,” Madeline said. “You’ve done it.”
He would have liked to hug her then, to twirl her around and celebrate, but Diana was smiling at him and he could not.
“Congratulations for what?” Diana asked, and Adam realized he had not explained his concerns about the marsh to her, nor had she asked why he and the lieutenant-governor had gone riding every day. Had she thought it was merely a social visit?
When he did not answer right away, Madeline answered for him. “Adam has just secured Lord Blackthorne’s support to fund the maintenance of the dykes and protect the marsh.”
“Protect it from what?”
“From flooding.”
“Flooding? Good heavens. There are floods here?”
Adam opened his mouth to explain, but before he had a chance, she turned toward Mrs. Dalton. “What time is lunch being served?”
“One o’clock, my lady.”
Without another word about the marsh, Diana turned to go into the house. “I had best go and dress, then. It will be our first meal alone as a family and I want it to be special. Will you summon my maid please, Mrs. Dalton?”
Adam watched her, feeling sadly dumbfounded, and trying to remember what he had expected when he’d sent his proposal to her originally. He had thought he knew Diana, but he hadn’t, really. He only knew his fantasy of her, what he wanted her to be.
A moment later, everyone was gone, and Adam was left alone in the yard. A longing flared through him—to be with Madeline—and he could not keep it buried any longer.
Clearly, the time had come. No matter how difficult it was, he would speak to Diana tonight, and pray that she would release him from their engagement.
* * *
Later in the afternoon, Madeline heard the tapping of hoof beats up the driveway and knew that Adam had returned from his inspection of the fields.
She sat up straighter on the bench, forcing herself to ignore him, for she had another caller today.
A gentleman caller of her own. She would not turn around to look at Adam, and she would fight the clattering, painful awareness inside her heart.
She smiled warmly at John Metcalf, who had come this windy afternoon to tell her about the farm he had just leased. “What are your plans, John? Will you raise beef?”
“I reckon so. I still have some work to do on the barn, though, before I can purchase any stock. There is a hole in the roof the size of a wagon wheel.”
“Oh my!” Still trying to ignore the urge to turn and greet Adam, Madeline laughed with John, who began to fidget nervously on the bench. He cleared his throat a few times before speaking.
“The other reason I came, Miss Oxley, is to ask you to accompany me to the summer dance at the Aikens’ place. I hear they clear out their barn for a real romp.”
Madeline felt her face color. No one had ever asked her to a dance before. She took a moment to consider his invitation, then she pictured Adam escorting Diana and dancing all night long with her.
A quick decision immediately followed. “Yes, John, I would be delighted to go with you. When is it?”
“Next Saturday night. I can come by and pick you up at seven.” He nearly spilled his tea as he took another sip.
Just then, Madeline heard Adam’s footsteps over the hard ground and sensed his approach. He stopped behind them. This time, she allowed herself to turn on the bench and smile casually. “Good afternoon, Adam.”
“Good afternoon, Madeline,” he replied. “Metcalf, how are you?”
“I’m fine, sir. I came to tell Madeline the good news—that I found land to lease. It’s nearby—not more than a stone’s throw, down in the lowlands just past the Chapman place.”
Adam unbuttoned his coat. “Congratulations. You must be pleased about that.”
“I am, sir.” John gazed at Madeline and smiled. “I’m very pleased.”
Madeline felt her whole body tense at John’s blatant show of affection for her. It was the first time anyone had ever looked at her like that. It was just like the way Jacob looked at Mary.
Her insides tugged unpleasantly in response.
Perhaps that tugging sensation would become more pleasant later on.
Or perhaps not.
What would she do if it did? Or didn’t?
She glanced up at Adam, who was still staring icily at John, who was staring starry-eyed at her. Good Lord, she couldn’t believe she was having this philosophical debate with herself in front of both these men.
The wind caught the leather tie in Adam’s queue and lifted it, and she felt rather dazed at the sight of his strong jaw and dark eyes, his broad shoulders beneath his coat, and the way he held himself—tall, confident, mature. He was so much more of a man than John was.
But he was not the one who was courting her.
In that instant, she knew with conviction that she must make an effort not only to appreciate John Metcalf for all his good qualities, but to encourage him as well. She had to forget about Adam Coates and move on with her life. She simply could not go on pining for her sister’s future husband.
She pasted on a smile for John and forced a polite reply. “I am pleased, too.”
“Well, good,” Adam said, his voice deep and gruff. “Everyone is pleased. If you will excuse me now, I have some business to attend to.” He started for the door, but hesitated and turned back. “Madeline, perhaps we could have a word this evening. It’s rather important.”
With that final word, he left, taking long strides toward the house. Madeline watched after him, wondering what he wished to speak with her about.
“Is there something wrong, Madeline?”
She jumped at the sound of John’s voice, pulling her back to the here and now.
“You look melancholy,” he said.
Madeline pulled her teacup to her lips. “Melancholy?” She struggled for an excuse to give him. To give herself. “I suppose it is this ominous weather.” She glanced up at the dark, brooding clouds, blustering across the sky. “I daresay, it looks like rain.”
No amount of rain, however, could compare to the tempest inside her heart.
* * *
Adam stormed into the house, his frustration reaching a new peak.
He detested the idea of John Metcalf courting Madeline, yet he had no one to blame but himself, for he had been stalling these past few days.
He was not looking forward to confronting Diana, breaking her heart and sending her home, but if he did not do it now, he would risk losing Madeline forever.
Adam pulled off his coat and carried it to his study. He walked in and closed the door behind him, but froze on the spot. Sitting at his desk, reading his correspondence, was Diana.
Startled, she turned in her chair, or rather, his chair. “Adam, I thought you were out riding.”
He worked hard to keep his voice steady and controlled. “I was.”
They gazed at each other for a tense moment, then she set down the letter in her hand and stood. “I was just…I was just reading these…” She gestured toward the pile of letters on his desk. Her letters. “I had forgotten all the things I wrote to you. I am so glad you kept them.”
He took an anxious step forward. “Diana—”
“I remember now, how miserable I was that first year of my marriage and how desperately I wanted you back. You were everything to me, and I was so foolish to let you go. This brings it all back, makes it seem like it happened only yesterday.”
“It wasn’t yesterday, Diana, it was a long time ago.”
“Yes, thank goodness, otherwise I would still be buried in loneliness back there.”
Oh God, this was wretched.
Adam gazed at the window and saw Madeline outside still talking to Metcalf. The young man was standing by the bench, and she was gazing up at him, her hand on top of her straw hat to keep it from flying off in the breeze.
Adam’s insides careened at the sight of her talking to John—or any man who tried to court her, for that matter.
There was no way on God’s green earth that Adam could take another minute of this. He turned back to Diana, who was now walking toward him, her smile warm and inviting.
Adam held up a hand and breathed deeply. “Diana, stop. We need to talk.”