Chapter 21
Mercifully, all of their parents left early on New Year’s Day.
This morning, in the light of day shining in through the window, he closed his eyes to recall her shimmering silver gown, so lovely on Scarlett, though he much preferred when it became a pool of fabric on the floor of his bedchamber.
He had appreciated the glow of Scarlett’s pale skin, illuminated by the fire in the grate, even more than the lovely dress that so many at the party had commented on.
He was a lucky man, he had thought as he had fallen asleep the night before. A very lucky man indeed.
And now the house held only the two of them, alone together at last. He grinned as he rose from the bed after Scarlett scurried out of the room through the adjoining door to her own chambers, just as Spicer entered from the corridor.
“Good morning, my lord!” the man boomed, and Hunter brought a hand to his head. He had indulged in a few spirits the night before, and now Spicer seemed altogether too cheery.
“Happy New Year, Spicer,” he murmured, and his valet responded in kind.
“You seem … overly pleased this morning.”
“That I am, my lord, that I am,” Spicer responded. “All of my wishes for this upcoming year came true within the first few hours. I am to be married, my lord — married!”
“What?” Hunter came alert then, his eyes widening. “To the maid?”
“Marion Parker,” Spicer said, his eyes far away as he looked beyond Hunter and out the window. “Although … I suppose I should have spoken with you about it first, my lord. I know she and I are both in service to you and all…”
“It’s fine, Spicer,” Hunter said, shaking his head with a grin as he reached out a hand to his valet. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you, my lord. Thank you very much!”
And now all Hunter had to do was convince his wife that the two of them belonged together as much as his valet and her maid.
“Oh, my lady, I wish you could have been there!” Marion was telling Scarlett the same story, though with a bit more detail, just a room away. “Well, not that you would have been to a servant’s gathering, of course, but?—”
Scarlett held up a hand with a slight chuckle. “I understand your meaning, Marion. Continue, please.”
“Well, Lady Rockingham’s maid was there, of course, in what she thought, I’m sure, would be the most brilliant gown of all.
But then, when I arrived in your gown, oh my lady, you should have seen how wide her eyes became!
And she was practically hanging off of Rupert’s arm, but the moment I walked in, our eyes met, and I swear to you, that was the last either of us looked elsewhere for the entire night.
When the New Year arrived, he kissed me, and then he knelt down in front of me and asked me to be his wife — his wife!
” Marion’s eyes were filled with tears as she came over to Scarlett.
“Would that be all right with you, my lady? If I were married, and to another of the staff?”
“Of course,” Scarlett assured her, her hands grasping Marion’s. “I only want you to be happy, and it sounds as though your Rupert makes you that way.”
“Oh, he does,” said Marion with a sigh. “He truly does.”
“You must know, however…” Scarlett trailed off, her gaze out the window at the snow-covered trees.
“You may have to choose, Marion. I do not want to lose you as my lady’s maid, I truly don’t, but if I remain in the country while Lord Oxford is in London, if you stay with me, you may go months at a time without your husband.
I’m sure we can find another position for you if you prefer, so that you can accompany him. ”
Marion’s mouth opened slightly in surprise. “But my lady, I thought…”
She trailed off at Scarlett’s expression.
“I will wait for your decision,” she murmured, and Scarlett nodded, turning her head before her maid noticed that tears were beginning to fill her eyes.
She wanted to remain with Hunter, truly she did, but she was scared — scared of who she would become if she gave her heart fully to him, if she followed him to London, where she would witness the ladies of the ton dancing and flirting with her husband as Lady Raymond did the previous night.
She should hardly be jealous. Of course, Hunter danced and spoke with other women, as did all men in polite company, but he always came back to her.
While her heart swelled with gratitude to him for it, she didn’t want to have to experience the conflicting emotions night in and out, coupled with her hatred of the city.
Perhaps it was better to remain here alone, ignorant of all that occurred in London.
She sighed as she dressed in a cheery yellow frock that belied her current mood. For Hunter would be returning shortly, she knew. The question was, would she accompany him or not?
Hunter spoke at length of their London return over breakfast that morning.
He could admit that he was being a coward, not asking his wife directly if she deigned to return with him, but he didn’t want to hear her refusal, didn’t want to think of her rejecting his request. And so, he decided he would simply assume that she would be accompanying him, and surely she would follow along.
When she didn’t protest any of his ideas, he took that as her agreement.
“Tomorrow morning, then,” he said with a nod.
“That should work very well, indeed. Lord Falconer will be able to provide me an audience the following day, and we should get to work at determining the best way to go about arranging your charities before I must return to the House of the Lords. We will also be back at Wintervale in a few weeks as I must find a new steward, of course, but luckily we aren’t far from London. ”
Scarlett nodded, and while Hunter could sense her hesitancy, he was sure it was simply some nerves upon returning to London, as it had been some time, he knew, since she had been there.
“Scarlett,” he said softly, taking her chin between his index finger and thumb, tilting her head toward him.
“I know London holds unpleasant memories for you. But we will be living in our own home, making our own new, happy memories. I will never do to you what your father did, you know that, do you not?”
“I do.”
“Then do not fear. If you ever need anything, I will be there for you, you must believe me.”
“Of course, Hunter. But…”
“But what?”
“You have your life there already. Your work, your clubs, your friends. I have no wish to be entirely dependent on you.”
“You have your own hobbies,” he said, frowning. “You will have your charities, and I am sure you will volunteer. You will also have plenty of time for both your friends and your horses as well.”
“My horses and my friends are here,” she said quietly. “Though I suppose you are right, I shall have my charities, and I do thank you for arranging everything for me.”
“Hyde Park can be a wonderful place to ride,” he said in what he hoped was a cheerful manner. “And you’ll make new friends, you’ll see. Lavinia will arrive in London by March. And people will love you! It will be fine, not to worry, love.”
As he took in her look of consternation, however, he realized that he was trying to convince himself as much as her.
For she was right. He was rather busy in London.
This time in the country had been a wonderful respite, and he was grateful for it in so many ways as it had provided him with the opportunity to fall in love with the woman sitting in front of him, the woman who was kind and generous and adventurous and beautiful — and currently silently resenting the fact that she would have to leave the home she had come to know so well.
He understood this, but what else could he do?
He certainly didn’t want to truly leave her. They would make this work.
But that night, as he made love to Scarlett, when she began to tremor around him, finding her release, her arms came encircled him in a grip so tight, tears dripping onto his shoulder, that he couldn’t help the fear in his breast as he wondered if she was, in fact, saying goodbye.
Scarlett stood in her room the next morning, looking at the valise in front of her.
Hunter wanted to leave by noon, she knew, in order to take advantage of the most light and warmth of the day.
The carriage was ready, his bags packed.
But the longer she stood there, the faster her heart beat.
She wandered over to the window, looking down at the snow-covered grounds below.
She knew what he expected of her was nothing untoward, was typical for a married couple, to go where the husband needed to be.
And yet everything within her longed to remain.
She had come to love the land, the people, the estate.
This was home. They would return, true, but it wouldn’t be until the snow had melted, the ground had thawed, and the gardens would be blooming once more with the summer sun.
Could she do it? Could she leave all behind for Hunter?
She knew, deep in her heart, that she loved him with all of her being, and that scared her more than even simply leaving did.
For if she left, her whole world would revolve around him.
All of her emotions would be tied up in him, while he would be devoted entirely to other causes and purposes.
It was not a life she had ever wanted to live. And yet, here she was.
As Marion puttered around the room, packing all of Scarlett’s remaining essentials, Scarlett slowly put one foot in front of her as she walked along the corridor and down the stairs, attempting to quell the panic within her.
Her stomach in turmoil, she stood at the threshold between the Oak Room and the entrance hall.
She looked up, seeing the mistletoe hanging above her, and tears sprang into her eyes once more.
When she tilted her head back, she found Abbot standing there, looking at her with a gentle smile.
“We didn’t remove the Christmas decor,” she said sadly. “Typically I wait until Twelfth Night, but…”
“It’s all right, my lady, we are happy to do it,” he said with a nod of his head. “We will miss you, to be sure, but you are where you belong.”
“Oh yes,” said Mrs. Shepherd joining him, and the two of them beamed at her as though they were proud parents. “We are so pleased that you and my lord will be together, as it should be.”
Scarlett nodded stiffly, and suddenly she felt an arm slip around her. She turned to find her husband standing in front of her, his formal dress covered in a cloak, a fur hat upon his head.
“One last kiss under the mistletoe,” he said, dropping a quick smack on her lips.
She began to walk through the door he held open for her, but once she was through the entrance hall, her foot on the cusp of the portico, she stopped.
She couldn’t seem to take one more step, her body frozen as she looked out before her, at the carriage surrounded by the snow, the evergreens a backdrop behind it.
“I can’t,” she said, the words coming from her lips before she even had time to think of them, nor the consequences.
“What’s this?” asked Hunter, his hand coming lightly to her back. “Is everything all right?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s not all right. I want to be with you, Hunter, I do, but … but I can’t go back there. Not now, not for months on end. I will see you when you return. I look forward to it, truly, and I have so loved our time together. But I can’t go back with you. I’m sorry.”
And with that, she turned and ran back the way she came as Hunter called her name.
“Scarlett!” he cried out, his footsteps echoing hers, and finally she stopped in the middle of Green Hall, knowing that she could never outrun him. “Don’t do this,” he begged, his eyes filled with desperation. “All will be fine, I promise. Just come with me.”
“Can you not stay?” she asked, her breast filled with hope. For he wasn’t required in London, not truly, for another few months. No, he was simply choosing to be there. “At least for a time?”
“I must go back,” he said, his voice deep and grave. “Please, Scarlett, won’t you come with me? I love you, and I want — I need you with me.”
“I can’t,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I will see you when you return, whenever that may be. I’m sorry.”
And with that, she began running once more, her booted feet echoing down the corridor, and she didn’t know whether she was relieved or dismayed when he didn’t follow her.