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Chapter Text

1. The Debutante

I stretched as I opened my eyes, letting out a soft groan. The sun was beginning to stream around the burgundy curtains, and I could hear the sweet singing of the finches outside my window. Slowly, I sat up with a yawn, relishing the giving of the goose-feather mattress that was the wealth of my cousin, Jamesina. Goose feathers stuffed the pillows, and thick, fluffy cotton was inside the golden, damasked comforter. Words I could never use to describe the furnishings of my parents' home.

Jamesina Fernsby was my father's wealthy, if distant cousin, though she was only related through marriage. Her late husband, Innes, was someone closely associated with my grandfather. Though, I could not riddle out how we were further related, and, truthfully, I had never tried to, not having a head for lineage.

Four months ago, Jamesina had done me the courtesy of taking me on as a debutante as per my father's request. The woman had decided to spend her widowed, aging years introducing young women into upper society and, as a matchmaker, intent on finding husbands for the affluent young ladies of Berkeley County. It was something to do to keep her from grieving the man she loved so dearly.

The Fernsby Family itself was excessively wealthy. Jamesina now ran the Wheatrest Plantation, previously owned by her husband, the second largest plantation in Berkeley County. The largest to be both owned by a woman and a Scot, for Jamesina was a Scot; ever her own person, she had broken tradition and married into an English family. Though she was enormously proud of her heritage, Mrs. Fernsby showed her Scottish loyalty through her extravagant dresses and jewelry, all shaped as or embroidered with thistles or colored purple at the least. There was never a time when she did not have one rendition of the wildflower on her person.

While fiercely proud of her heritage, she was doubly the lady and expected all her debutantes to act as one. “No matter how poor they had been,” she had told me. I had come from the humblest beginnings compared to all the others she had taken. I was lucky to have caught on to her instructions quickly, for she liked to use a thin, wooden rod to smack any limb out of place or strike a shoulder for wrongful speaking.

Currently, I was the only eligible miss on the plantation; as such, I had the second floor of the east wing to myself. So, the rushing footsteps in the hall were quite a surprise. Particularly so early in the morning. Usually, the servants only rushed if a guest or another miss needed to have a room set up. (My arrival had been such a whirlwind of activity; I had felt caught up in a windstorm.) My heart sank. If another girl were to come, I would have less chance of finding a match, for I looked as humble as my beginnings, and I refused to return to Charles Town to my parents, especially in failure.

But the hurried footsteps stopped outside my door, and a hasty knock sounded. The door was opened before I could call a welcoming entrance or otherwise. "Good, Miss Kirby, you're awake," said Rory as she rushed into the room, closing the door.

Rory, a servant girl of twenty-five, close enough to my age, was a pretty girl with lovely coiling hair that I found fascinating. She had become my closest friend during my four months here and had given many words of encouragement during my self-doubt in my cousin's instructions.

"You must hurry and get dressed!" she said, rushing to the window to throw back the curtains. Sunlight entered the room with all the fury of a bonfire, making my eyes water and blink.

"Why? Is something wrong?” I asked, sitting up straighter and throwing my feet over the side of the bed in a panic.

"There are two men in the dining room, both wishing for your presence," Rory quickly explained.

"Two?!" I choked on the word.

"You surely impressed at the dinner last night," Rory said, taking my hand and pulling me from the bed.

I was brought up short to the washstand in a few dizzying steps. "Who?" I managed as Rory wet a cloth and vigorously scrubbed my face.

I was so startled at the news of two potential suitors that I did not think to argue with her over washing myself. "It was not my place to ask their names," she said.

"Rory," I sighed, knowing she knew more than what she let on. She always did; we had shared many secrets over the past weeks.

"One is Master Rigsby," she whispered, opening my nightgown and scrubbing my chest and back.

"Ugh!" The sound was out of my mouth before I could think better of it, and Rory laughed.

Howard Rigsby was a wealthy plantation owner pushing well into his seventies. He was a widower with no children of his own, and he was as cruel as an English Dragoon (something he had been in his youth). His eyes were a deep brown that squinted to see, and his nose was like a bird's beak. He was balding; the thin white hair he held onto was perpetually dirty and hung limply around his shoulders. I shuddered. He had spent the previous evening calling me 'girl' instead of by name, and it was difficult to get a word in when near him.

Mister Rigsby owned Riverlode, a tobacco plantation on the southeastern edge of Wilton, about two hours to the east, and the home of the largest number of slaves in the tri-county area. He was a cruel man who walked with a limp, using a cane to get by, but that cane was more than a crutch: I had seen the man beat his coachman upon his arrival the previous night. And what is more, those of us with pale skin were not immune to a strike across the back if we annoyed him.

"Well, I can tell you now, the answer is a firm no," I said, then grimaced. More words without thinking. Luckily, Jamesina wasn’t present for my insolence.

"Mistress Jamesina will not like that," Rory said, fighting a smile. “You ought to meet the men. The other is Master Forbes." At the name, I felt my stomach turn.

"And he is Jamesina's lawyer?" I asked as Rory pulled me behind the dressing screen. There was the yellow and white dress I had planned to wear for the day.

"Aye," she answered, stripping me of my nightgown.

I thought through the foggy haze of the previous evening, for I had had plenty of wine. My indulgence in the spirits had been fueled by my own discomfort. All the men had been much older than my twenty-four summers, the youngest being a Dragoon pushing into his late thirties.

Rory helped me into a fresh shift as I thought of all I knew of Mister Forbes. He had been to the plantation several times in the months I was in lessons. Despite working for her, he got along quite well with my cousin, and I had formally met him only a few days before last night. He had a handsome mien, but anytime he spotted me, I felt his eyes follow. Green eyes, I had learned at our first meeting that I thought watched me everywhere. He was undoubtedly a better option than Master Rigsby. However, I had heard through many rumors that he had a strong sense of pride and did not take well to being challenged, though he had been a gentleman at the party.

"He is rich," Rory whispered, taking my silence as a pout. "And he is younger than Master Rigsby."

"Well, that is something," I said, drawing myself out of my thoughts. Though the man was still pushing past his mid-forties.

Rory giggled and began helping me into the gown. We fell into a companionable silence as she laced the bodice and buttoned up the dress. Once I was clothed, we came to the vanity, where I looked myself over. I had filled out during my four months here, no longer so stick thin I could be mistaken for a boy if I wore my hair up in a hat and put on a pair of trousers (which had been required on more than one occasion in Charles Town.) Now I had the body of a young woman, and in this dress, it indeed showed, though I looked brighter than I felt. I ought to be jumping for joy at the offers to be out from under my father's thumb, but I was not in a hurry to live under another man’s.

"I think a simple pin will do today," I sighed, looking at the dark, wavy mass of hair. It ended just past my mid back and certainly tangled more than not. I brushed a few stray strands from out of my face.

"Now, Miss Eleanora, you don't want the men to think you do not care for their offers," Rory scolded lightly.

I sighed, my stomach churning. I had never been so close to a proposal, and now I had two waiting for me downstairs. "We could do a butterfly," Rory offered, holding up a pewter pin of two flying butterflies.

"Alright," I agreed with a sigh, wiping sweaty palms on my skirts. My stomach turned, and if I had anything in my stomach, I knew I would be seeing it again. Within a few moments, I would upset one or both men, possibly even my cousin. I swallowed hard.

Rory ran a soft, bristled brush through my hair and within a few moments, she had my hair twisted and pinned into a sweeping look. "Lovely," Rory announced, and, taking a small vial from the vanity, Rory dabbed the liquid on a finger and smeared the lavender-scented water on either side of my neck. She helped me to my feet and smiled. "You can say no. You would not be the first to."

I gave a wavering smile as she steadied me as I slipped my feet into practically colored grey shoes. "And be sent home?"

"I don't think the Mistress will send you away if you decline the offers," Rory said.

"Maybe not," I sighed. "But this would be the third party with nothing to show, and that’s a first."

Rory hummed in answer and gestured for me to get ahead of her.

Dressing and primping had taken about a half hour, and I was left with the walk downstairs—enough time to feel my stomach churn in nervousness, so much so that I nearly gagged. I took a shaky breath as Rory offered an encouraging smile and followed me into the hallway. I looked over the railing as I descended the stairs. I could hear the men's and Jamesina's voices but could not determine what was being said. I let out a deep breath and finished descending the stairs.

Uilliam, Rory's father, met me at the bottom of the stairs, offering his hand to escort me into the dining room for the introduction. I took his hand and forced the growing lump in my throat down into my stomach. Upon entering the large dining room, I saw my elder cousin and the two men at the head of the table. One on either side of her, sitting with hands upon the table, deep in conversation. "Bloody hell," I cursed.

None but Uilliam heard, and he let out an amused breath. On one side was Howard Rigsby, his long and limp hair lying on his shoulders, looking as mean as ever. His beady eyes narrowed at Mister Forbes, and his thin lips scowled. I shook my head slightly in disgust and looked to the other man, Mister Roderick Forbes.

He had shown off his extravagant wealth with jewels after supper. Mister Forbes was a prestigious lawyer from Wilton who came from a well-to-do family just on the edge of the town. The man was nearing his upper forties and was unwed despite making a living of 4,500 a year. He was much taller and had a thicker frame than the ailing Mister Rigsby; his head was full of brown-grey hair, long enough to be tied behind his shoulders in a fashionable black ribbon. Dressed in a pale olive suit, accompanied with plenty of white ruffles at the sleeve cuffs, he at least looked the part of a gentleman next to Mister Rigsby (who had re-dressed into his stained English-red coat and black trousers.)

I admitted he looked handsome in his green suit, and I had noticed the previous night that he had a slightly boyish smile that complimented his pale green eyes, which I found rare indeed. But there had always been something entirely familiar about the man, yet I could not place him. The conundrum had been one of the sources of my anxiety the previous evening, especially with his inclination towards me. He had been the first to introduce himself, claimed the seat next to me at the dinner, and spoke the most to me, saying my name repeatedly. However, I was not his first choice, and I was aware of this.

I had heard the gossip from the house servants that Mister Forbes's first choice of bride was Jamesina's grandniece, Catrina Fraser. I could not blame the man; she was beautiful. Long red hair fell in gentle ringlets to her waist, her skin was like ivory, and she matched his six-foot height. Not only that, but she also came from a good, wealthy healer's family. But she had chosen some professor from up north and moved up to Cambridge.

I was only his second choice, and I was freckled, mousy, short, not to mention from a working-class family. A family who could trace their roots back to the Mayflower, who had been here long enough to have lost all English charm, I was now part of the growing party of 'Americanized Mutts.' Not to mention, as my father always told me, I was too headstrong and lacked the beauty to match. So, what could this prestigious Scottish lawyer see in me that was suitable for marriage?

"Miss Eleanora Kirby," Uilliam announced as we approached the head of the table, drawing me from my musings and the others from their conversation. The servant let go of my hand and, within a moment, was at his place at the window where Rory now stood. I was now alone, bobbing in a sea of stares.

Mister Forbes was the first to stand, with a grin as he took me in. "Good morning, Miss Kirby," he greeted, bending slightly at the waist, his hands behind his back.

I gave the customary curtsey in return and nodded my head. "Good morning to you, Mister Forbes," I replied correctly. I then repeated the action and words towards Mister Rigsby. The old man's response was to grunt heavily and climb to his feet.

"Eleanora," Jamesina said with a gentle smile. "Both of these lovely gentlemen have come asking for your hand."

I swallowed hard. "Though I have two, I am not in a state where I wish to part with one nor both, for that matter," was my response. As soon as I spoke, I knew I should not have; it was an unthinking reflex fueled by fear. Withholding a wince, I fisted my hands into my skirt.

Jamesina's nose twitched in annoyance while Mister Forbes's smile faltered, and Mister Rigsby's beady eyes narrowed towards me. "None of that, Eleanora Kirby; you know very well what was meant," Jamesina scolded before gracefully turning to the two men before me. I took a shaky breath, thankful that the wooden rod was nowhere near and Rigsby was too far away from me to wave his cane at my back.

"Gentlemen, won't you offer your rings to the lady?"

Mister Rigsby leaned heavily upon his cane and, from his breast pocket, produced a simple, unadorned silver ring that he tossed onto the table between us with a loud clatter. I suspected the ring belonged to his first wife and had been similarly presented to her.

On the other hand, Mister Forbes dug in his pocket for a moment before pulling out a small ring box of mahogany. Opening the top, he placed it facing me on the table next to the other ring. He circled me to stand on my right-hand side, both men watching me, waiting for an answer to see who I would turn to first.

Mister Forbes's offering was indeed much more beautiful. A red ruby in a thin silver band sat sparkling in the morning light. I schooled myself before I could express my findings of such proposals. It was much more than I had ever imagined. I had never seen a jewel before the previous night when Mister Forbes had brought the set of three forth, asking which I liked best.

Mister Forbes excitedly waved me further into the parlor, and I was followed by the rest of the dinner party. I was as curious as the rest: Mister Rigsby, a fat Judge, a mean-looking Lieutenant, and an English Dragoon with a bulbous nose in his thirties. Jamesina brought up the rear, purposefully avoiding my eye as she slipped into the back of the room. A small, lone table with a black case stood in the center of the parlor.

I shifted, stepping up as the lawyer invited me next to him, careful not to trip on my gown. Mr. Forbes unclasped the center of the case, and I gasped upon the reveal. Three rings sat upon a field of black velvet. I could hear mutterings behind me as the case was fully opened and the candlelight caught in the jewels.

In the center was a red ruby cut into a kite shape set in a thin silver band. On the left was an emerald cut into a square, also put in a silver band, and the final was a pale diamond set in a gold band, thicker than the rest.

My eyes rested on the center, finding the ruby the most drawing. "What do you think, Miss Kirby? Which do you favor?" he asked, his accent thinned by his aristocratic voice.

"I-I," stammering, I looked towards Jamesina. She nodded to me. I swallowed. "They're all beautiful," I managed, looking back at the lawyer. "But I could not possibly choose; I've never seen anything so rich."

I had become overwhelmed by the three beautiful stones presented to me so nonchalantly, but Mister Forbes had a keen eye to realize this ring had drawn my attention. But now, staring at the ring so closely, I was reminded sharply that I was a simple baker's daughter—one who had been lucky enough to have a wealthy (if distant) cousin who loved to play matchmaker in her aging years.

Having been given such a windfall that Jamesina had taken a liking to his cakes, my father was now receiving a hundred pounds of wheat from her every fortnight. My father's bakery was the strongest since my grandfather was my age. He was making much more money than he knew what to do with and now could ask for a sizeable sum for my dowry. That was how I had found myself in Jamesina's matchmaking hands. Mainly. The other reason was that I was about to turn twenty-five with no interested suitors in Charles Town; I was on the quick path to becoming a spinster, cursed to stay with her parents, which would never do.

"Eleanora," Jamesina said, drawing me from my thoughts. "What is your answer?"

I looked at her, then between the two men. Rigsby had a scowl on his face, leaning heavily on his cane, while Forbes held an expectant look, his hands clasped behind his back. I looked back to the rings and noticed Mister Forbes shift in anticipation. I wiped my clammy hands on the skirt of my dress once more, taking a deep breath.

I recalled the previous night when Rory had ushered me down the stairs. As attention came to my descent, I had indeed noticed the two men, mainly because I saw a scowl break into a smirk before being gnarled back into a hateful look. I had been drawn to Mister Forbes the moment I saw him as I descended the stairs. He had what I could only understand as an awed expression that sent my heart reeling in what I could only name excitement.

I cleared my throat and toyed with the skirt of my dress. I had the choice between wealth and more wealth, between pride and wrath. I felt no love for either man, and I suspected that it was not love they felt for me. I felt the pressure of my family and the stares of those in the room. Even the house servants were watching with grand anticipation. I took a deep breath and made a second’s choice.

I turned towards my right, towards Mister Forbes, the lesser of two evils. "I thank you, Mister Forbes, for your proposal. It is beautiful, and I accept."

"Ah! Leannan!" he said happily, clapping his hands together, grinning at me. He walked towards me and took his ring from the table. Taking my left hand, he slid the band onto my ring finger. "Perfect fit," he announced. The ring fit perfectly snug upon my finger and sparkled as I moved my fingers to look at the jewel on my hand. "You will be most happy with me, Eleanora." Mister Forbes took my face in his hands and placed a chaste kiss on my forehead. I swallowed once again. My mouth was dry.

"Pah," spat Mister Rigsby. "Bloody Scotsmen." I heard his cane make hard contact with the tabletop.

Unprepared, I jumped, and Mister Forbes's fingers tightened on my face for a fleeting second. Blood pounded in my ears, and I did not hear what came afterward, but Mister Forbes surprised me. He did not respond in kind with a cruel word, but instead, he gave me a small smile and placed another kiss on my forehead before patting my shoulders and looking me over.

I let out a shaky breath as Mister Forbes and I turned toward my cousin, who looked positively proud of herself. "Uilliam, Rory," she said, and both servants stepped forward.

"Yes, Mistress?" they answered in practiced unison.

"Our dear Eleanora is a bit overwhelmed. Perhaps the two of you should escort her about the gardens. Mister Forbes and I will make further arrangements in that time."

"Yes, Mistress," they answered again.

Rory approached me and offered her arm. Slowly, I took it, and both servants escorted me from the dining room, one on each side. They allowed me a quiet moment, speaking only when we reached the garden door. "I thought you were going to turn them both away," Uilliam said in his deep voice as he opened the door for us.

"I chose the lesser of three evils," I said quietly.

"Who was the third?" Rory asked.

"My father."

Chapter Text

2. Leannan

Uilliam and Rory walked two paces behind me as I led several turns about the garden. Was I ready to do this? To give my life over to a man I had only met twice? I stopped at the spread of multi-colored snapdragons and peonies, looking them over. They were of varying shades of reds and pinks, and it struck me how beautiful Jamesina's garden was. Mary and Rory had done an excellent job keeping the flowers well in the early spring until now, amid the growing heat of June.

As I looked over the garden, I thought of the consequences if I were to back out of this engagement. Certainly, I would offend Mister Forbes, thus making Jamesina look like a terrible guardian and matchmaker. I would be offending her and, to an extent, my father. My mother had warned me that if I offended Jamesina in any way, she would send me directly back to face my father's wrath.

My younger brother had been married for a year at twenty-two, and he and his wife had a baby on the way already. A boy was hoped for to carry on the Kirby name and eventually the bakery. I, however, had been a 'thorn in my father's side' since I had learned to read. My grandmother (my father's mother) had been a well-to-do, well-read woman who married the famous baker Reginald Kirby. That is, until my grandfather gambled away his bakery fortune on cockfights in the hopes of doubling it.

So, my father was left with a failing bakery, a father who drank himself to death, and a mother with nothing better to do than teach her grandchildren to read. 'Get us ahead in life,' she would always say. And while it had worked wonders for my brother, so far for me, it kept suitors at bay and gave me thoughts ‘unbecoming of a lass.' But it was something I adored that comforted me on lonely nights. The feel of the soft leaves of a book beneath my fingertips was like a hug from a long-time friend who had always been there and knew all my secrets.

I wanted to draft my own book one day, hoping to bring the same comfort to someone else. I was often caught daydreaming about 'fairies or some such nonsense,’ my father had taken his belt to me more than once after I let a cake or biscuits become overdone.

When his windfall from Jamesina came, I was on my last chance. If I were to burn another pastry, I would be sold to the brothel across town. He had threatened that he could make a pretty penny by selling me to the reverend mother at LaPearl on more than one occasion. But that was always a final punishment, ever looming over my head.

Jamesina was kind enough to take me on as a debutante, as she called me. I was unsure what those words had meant then, but she assured me it was simply an unwed woman looking to become wed. It seemed nicer than my father often referred to me as, anyway. Whether or not she knew of my final ultimatum was still a mystery to me, but she had promised that I would find a match, however long it took. And it looked like it took three parties, likely the most in her history as a matchmaker.

Walking away from the flower beds, I came to the apex of the circular garden, where a beautiful fountain had stood for many years. The stone blossomed into many flowers, but in the center was a woman clad in only a stone sheet, one breast showing, pouring water from a large vase. The sheet that covered her was sheer, and she had flowers and stars in her stone hair. For a moment, I wondered what she would look like in color before memories overtook my line of thought.

My father shoved me into the door frame of my room with a snarl, and I caught myself against the wall and clung to it for dear life. I heard my father remove the leather belt from his trousers and snap it. I knew he relished the flinch that I was too weak to withhold even after all the years of it.

"Bloody slattern," he growled as he struck the first blow across my back. I whimpered and cowered into the wall. "What the devil was rattling around that head of yours?" As another blow came across my back, my nails dug into the wood. If I cried out, it would invite more insults. I could feel the tears of pain, both physical and emotional, stinging my eyes, but I was not going to give in to it. Not yet. "Huh? You dithering bitch!" he yelled in my ear.

At no response, he gave me several lashings in quick succession. "Thinking of all the fiddling you will be doing at LaPearl? Eh?!"

There were several more hits before my father took hold of my hair and jerked me around to face him. I could feel my nails break against the wood from the rough movement. "Do you think anyone wants a burned cake? Stale biscuits?" The belt contacted my arm several times, and I cowered away. Tears were falling freely now as I tried to keep my cries of pain silent.

Tiring himself out, my father let go of me and stepped back, wiping spittle from his mouth. At that moment, my mother entered the room. "We have got a reply from Jamesina," she announced baldly, ignoring the fact that I had just been beaten; she refused to look at me, still whimpering and crying against the wall.

My father snatched the letter from her and read aloud:

Dear Mister Kirby,

I would be delighted to take Eleanora on as a debutante. My matchmaking skills may need work, but I am sure I can find a fine man of good fortune and good make to care for your daughter.       

Best regards, Jamesina Fernsby.

My father returned the letter to my mother and approached me again. He dug his fist into my hair and held my head against the wall. "You put a single toe out of line with Missus Fernsby, and you will regret the day you were born. I will make sure you are the cheapest slattern at LaPearl. Do you understand?"

"Yessir," I said meekly, letting out a cry of surprise as he struck me across the arm once more with his belt.

A gentle hand on my arm drew me back from my thoughts with a jump. "Are you alright, young mistress?" Rory asked, her voice low and full of concern.

I smiled weakly. "I'm fine, Rory. Don't worry about me." I began leading the way once more around the garden, ignoring Uilliam's look. Being a caring father, Uilliam knew when I was lying, and whether I wanted to discuss it or not, he made sure I knew he was there to listen to me, though he could do nothing about it.

Opposite the snapdragons and peonies was a bed of thistles, poppies, and heather in all colors, which I admired as I walked by, firmly keeping my mind clear. I was out here to quell my fears, not delve deeper into them. Distantly, I heard a door open and close, followed quickly by the sound of the garden gate opening and closing.

As much as I had hoped Mister Forbes would be gone by the end of the walk, he was not. He stood at the gate, a pleased look on his face. He smiled as our eyes met and grew into a grin as I approached. As we came even with the gentleman, he bowed to me and offered his arm.

"Your cousin had allowed us one turn about the garden," he said. His accent was not as thick as that of other Scots I had met or heard because, as he had told us the previous evening, he had been in the country since he was a boy—refugees from the last Jacobite rising if I remembered correctly. However, he had said he studied law in Scotland.

As I took his arm, knowing I would certainly hear about it if I did not, I noticed the thistle brooch that many Scots wore over their heart. It was nicer than most, as a gentle purple gem sat in the center of the flower. It was pretty enough to catch my eye, and Mister Forbes noticed. He smiled and winked, and I thought it had been quite expensive.

Mister Forbes's arm dwarfed mine, and I could feel the muscle he had from lugging about so many law tomes. I looked over my shoulder as Rory and Uilliam waited patiently at the gate. One private turn was allowed, but it was also well within the eyesight of all. I knew Jamesina was watching from somewhere, so far, unseen.

Being so close to the man now, my betrothed, I could smell his scent. He was a mixture of old books that seemed to warm my soul and sandalwood that made my heart flutter. Through our silence, I felt the sun's heat just a little more keenly.

"You've regained your color," he commented as we walked by the creeping juniper bushes. I felt my cheek out of habit and made a noncommittal hum as a slight June breeze rustled past us. Now that the silence was broken, the air felt like a deep, soothing breath. "I was quite surprised to see Mister Rigsby offering; he is quite the fractious man."

I spoke up, feeling like I ought to reply to something he said. "To be quite honest, Mister Forbes, I was surprised there were any offerings. I have been told that I can be quite argumentative myself." I withheld a wince. It was not a ladylike response, but Mister Forbes chuckled.

"As have I," he agreed. "But I suppose that is what makes a good lawyer." To my knowledge, he had never been in a court of law but made very well for himself by drafting wills and contracts for wealthy clients.

We were now passing the beds of peonies and snapdragons before returning to the fountain. Mister Forbes paused and released my arm to look at me. I felt the anxiety in the pit of my stomach return as his green eyes looked me over. Uilliam and Rory could not see us from the far side of the garden where they waited. I swallowed.

"I have something else for you," he said, reaching inside his waistcoat pocket. He pulled out another ring box made of a lacquered cedar.

"Another ring?" I questioned, staring at the box in confusion.

"Aye, well, this ring is for me, but, as my betrothed, I ask that you put it on me," he said, handing me the small box.

I gently took it and looked at him in confusion. "This is a Claddagh Ring," he said, nodding for me to open it. I did and looked over the ring. It was silver; two hands were formed from the metal, holding a heart topped with a crown.

"What do the markings mean?" I asked baldly, turning the box this way and that in the sunlight.

Mister Forbes gave me a gentle smile. "The hands represent friendship, the heart love, and the crown: loyalty." He held out his left hand to me. "Place it on my ring finger, the point of the heart facing yourself."

I fumbled with the box for a moment and withdrew the ring. Taking the box from me, he nodded to his outstretched hand. I took his large hand in mine, both of us shaking. For a moment, I wondered why he was, but I did as he bid me and slid the ring onto his finger. His hand was large and certainly dwarfed mine, but the ring was a perfect fit.

"You have your engagement ring," he said, taking my left hand and kissing the ruby, "and I have mine."

"Why does face outwards?" I asked as I withdrew my hand from his gentle grasp.

"The facing of the heart means different things in Celtic tradition. On the right hand, with the heart facing inward, the wearer's heart is spoken for, that they are betrothed. And you, Eleanora, have my heart." Mister Forbes cupped my chin as he spoke.

I looked up at him and returned his slight smile before my eyes quickly darted downward. I very much doubted his statement.

With a hum, Mister Forbes gently lifted my head. "We are engaged, leannan," he said gently as our eyes met. "You have no need to fear me. If it helps, you may call me Roderick. Roddy, if you are so bold," he said, tracing his fingertips along my cheek. I looked down again, feeling my cheeks flame with embarrassment in not knowing what to say. I felt a tingling in my stomach at the gentle brush of his fingers, something foreign that gave me some unknown feeling that I wasn't sure I liked.

Mister Forbes's fingers inched under my chin and tilted my head up once more. Before I could react, he kissed my lips. Instinctively, I gasped and pulled away, breaking the contact. In an instant, I could feel his annoyance with me, and I knew that if Jamesina were not watching, she would quickly learn about this, but I was quick to save face.

"Sorry—nervous," I managed quietly, avoiding his eyes.

His annoyance quickly melted into forgiving amusement. "There is no need to be nervous, Eleanora," he said, placing his lips against mine again.

I did not draw back this time but accepted the kiss with somewhat steeled nerves. It would be something I would have to get used to if I were to keep to his offer of marriage.

The kiss was gentle, if a bit persistent; Mister Forbes's lips were pleasantly soft against mine, and his fingers traced my cheek as he deepened the kiss, stepping closer to me. I took a sharp breath, feeling a butterfly or two take flight in my stomach, having never been kissed. My fingers curled into my palms as I withheld an urge to place them against his arms. I hadn't decided whether to push him away or pull him closer.

But he pulled away with a contented smile and allowed his hand to drop to his side. I smiled shyly before looking at my feet again. I felt a mixture of elation to have my first kiss and a sense of being dirty as the names my father had called me echoed in my head: slattern, puzzle, bitch. I held the smile through my fleeting thoughts and noticed his smile again, a slightly boyish one if I had ever seen one, showing his white teeth. I decided that I quite liked it.

He offered his arm again, and I took it, allowing him to walk me around the rest of the garden. I pushed the memories of my father's words into my stomach and let the man lead me around the fountain's base. We fell into an uncomfortable silence that I had to break.

"What does leannan mean?" I asked slowly, stumbling over the Gaelic words.

Mister Forbes placed his right hand over mine. "It simply means sweetheart," he answered, running his thumb over the back of my hand. His hand was rough, I noticed now, calloused and not at all like I would expect a gentleman's hand to be. Indeed, they differed entirely from other men's hands when I danced at other parties of Jamesina's.

"Oh," I answered, quite obviously surprised by the kind answer.

"You did not think I would use another language to insult you, did you?" he asked, and I noticed an amused twinkle in his eyes.

I smiled and looked down at the gentle teasing. "No, I—I just like to learn new things."

"Tis an admirable trait," he commented.

My smile grew, and I felt it come from a deep place within. It was nice to hear that I was not a dithering idiot for asking. "It is much nicer than Mister Rigsby calling me 'girl' like it was my name," I said, pushing aside the feeling.

Before I could wince at my words, Mister Forbes replied. "Aye, he is a crotchety old man with fewer manners than a squalling pig.”

I gave a less-than-ladylike snort at the comment. For as pointed and mean as it was, it certainly rang true. However, at my laugh, Mister Forbes thought he had scored a point and ran his hand over mine again. I felt a twinge of nerves again at the possible implications of his hand caressing mine. "But who could not wish to say your name, Eleanora? It is beautiful."

I almost felt myself color at the compliment, feeling that swirling mixture of elation and doubt. I was saved from answering as we returned to the garden gate. Jamesina stood there, looking proudly at me, her grey-blonde hair blowing slightly in the warm breeze. "I do hate to cut your walk short," she began, "but your chaise has arrived, Mister Forbes."

"Ah, of course," he turned to me, letting go of my arm and bowing. "I have clients that will not wait. I shall see you again soon, my Eleanora." He took my left hand and placed another kiss on the engagement ring he had given me not an hour earlier.

Patting my hand and bowing to me again, he said a courteous goodbye to Jamesina, and Uilliam left to show him to the front door. Jamesina smiled at me, took my arm in hers, and began to walk me around the garden again. I wondered how many times I would have to take this walk before I could go back to bed. I needed a nap at the very least and a stiff drink at the worst.

"This afternoon," she began, "I will write to your parents to tell them the happy news. Mister Forbes will pay to bring them into Wilton from Charles Town so they may help you pick out your wedding gown."

"Wedding gown?" I gasped. "So soon?" I felt faint at the thought of already picking out such a garment; a sweat broke out along my brow and the back of my neck.

"Yes, my dear, Mister Forbes is a busy man with only a small window between clients for you to wed on the first of July. It will be quite a short engagement. But to make up for it, he has promised that you may have any dress your heart desires; money is no object." I swallowed hard to hear the words. "I do hope you were not turning over ways to get out of the engagement in that keen mind of yours. Mister Forbes is quite the match for you, and you will be well taken care of."

"I wasn't!" I argued. In truth, the thought had not yet crossed my mind. I had been entirely consumed with many other racing thoughts since I realized a proposal was imminent. In fact, I was beginning to think he was a better alternative to running off into the wilds of the Carolinas to escape my duty as a woman. "I'm just…nervous."

"Posh lass," Jamesina said with a gentle smile. “I was too when I married Innes. Most women are, but you have a good, wealthy man who offered to marry you. You will do well as Mistress Forbes."

The more Jamesina spoke, the more I became aware of how big of a difference Mister Forbes, and I had. At twenty-four, I was a poor baker's daughter, and he was a mid-forties lawyer. With more than a twenty-year gap, I wondered how we would ever get along.

Chapter Text

3. Wilton

My dear Eleanora,

I hope that after you have had time to breathe, you have become as excited as I am about our betrothal. As I told Mistress Fernsby, our engagement period will be short, but to make up for the rush, money is no object to what you want. I will buy whatever dress your heart fancies, flowers you wish, or delicacies you want.

On June the third, I will return to Wheatrest and escort you and Mistress Fernsby into Wilton. We shall meet your family there when they arrive at noon sharp. Together, we will help you pick out the most beautiful gown.

And upon the end of the day, I humbly ask that you all stay the night in my home—soon to be our home— and discuss the finer points of our wedding day.

Until the third, leannan,

Yours truly, Roderick Forbes.

It had only been a few days after the proposals when Mister Forbes's letter arrived, advising us that he would come to escort Jamesina and me into Wilton in a fortnight. There, we would meet my parents at the Wayward Inn and Tavern at a prompt twelve o'clock noon; from there, our luggage would be taken to his home on the outskirts of town, where we would stay before parting ways the following morning. I found myself feeling a mixture of nerves and excitement. I would travel home from Wilton to spend time with family and friends before the wedding, two weeks before I was a wedded woman. Then…well, who knew how Mister Forbes would treat me behind closed doors.

My father was a loving man to the whole of Charles Town with a favorable bakery, thriving from the favoritism of a wealthy customer and relative. But when the day was done, especially when he got a drink in his belly, he was a holy terror to us all. On the outside, Mister Forbes seemed the perfect gentleman, but he was over twenty years my senior. I had spent the fortnight telling myself that one man was preferable to many, and his home was preferable to a brothel. If he raised his fists to me, well… I was used to that. But this was my chance to keep myself from becoming the slattern my father claimed I was.

The morning of the trip to Wilton dawned with clouds and mist, a continuation of the rain we had seen for the past few days—something I hoped was not an omen for the trip. Rory had helped me into a deep blue gown that Jamesina had taken to be tailored from her own closet. The dress laced up the front rather than the back and had sleeves that came down to the wrist.

Rory pulled my hair behind my head, skillfully pinning it up in a dazzling flower-shaped hairpin that Jamesina had gifted me upon my arrival. Thin strands of my hair immediately slipped from their bounds to tickle my chin.

Rory and I fought against this from the moment I arrived. My hair was imperfect, of different lengths from breaking in the bakery's heat. Even Jamesina had come to admit that it would just have to be my own look, lest we sheer off my hair to the shortest piece and start afresh.

I sighed. "I'm going to miss you, Rory."

"And I, you, Ellie," she said quietly as if the walls had ears.

"Jamesina has offered us Wheatrest for the wedding. Hopefully, I will get to see you one more time."

"Don't say it like that," Rory said, sitting beside me on the vanity seat. "Mister Forbes is Mistress Jamesina's lawyer. Certainly, he will bring you when he has a reason to call."

"We can only hope," I sighed.

Rory looked around the room and then leaned in. "I don't think Mister Forbes is like your father," she whispered.

"No one thinks my father is like my father," I answered.

There was a knock on the door that startled us both. Rory jumped up from the seat as if burned. "Coming along, alright, dear?" Jamesina called from the hallway.

"Yes, I'm just putting my shoes on now," I called hurriedly, slipping my feet into deep blue shoes. I had brought my own nice pair. They showed their wear, much sitting and abuse by moths, but at least it would not be noticed much through the length of the gown. If we were to walk about Wilton, I wanted to wear old shoes rather than the pretty new ones I had been gifted.

I stood as the door opened to reveal both Uilliam and Jamesina. Dutifully and without a word, Uilliam took the trunk from my bed and left the room, followed by Rory.

"Humble, yet lovely," Jamesina said, cupping my chin for a moment. She fiddled with the loose locks of hair before giving up.

"Mister Forbes's chaise ought to be leaving Wilton now. He should be here in an hour and a half. Come, dear, let us go wait for him in the library. It'll calm your ever-present nerves."

Mister Forbes's chaise arrived at a quarter past ten. The mist was looking to settle in for the day, and his carriage was dripping with it. Stepping out into the falling dew, Mister Forbes was dressed in a brown suit, once again accompanied by the white lacy ruffles that were the fashion of the rich. From my place at the library window, I watched him nod to his coachman, thanking him. This was followed by a greeting and a nod to Uilliam, who escorted him towards the door. Seeing his treatment of the servants gave me hope that we could get along well enough behind doors.

I stood from the window seat and smoothed over my skirt. After placing my unfinished book back into its place, I looked at myself in an old mirror. I blinked watery eyes, hoping my nervousness would not be so evident for the day. I was paler than usual, my freckles a stark statement on my cheeks. I took a few deep breaths, hoping to regain some color. The last thing I wanted to do was to insult Mister Forbes by being afraid of him.

"Come on, Eleanora, dear," Jamesina said, peering around the door to the library. "Let us meet Mister Forbes in the hall. We shall leave promptly."

I took another deep breath and followed her to the hallway. I was just in time as Uilliam opened the door to announce Mister Forbes, as my soon-to-be husband stepped inside with a polite smile and said ‘thank you’ to Uilliam.

"Good morning!" he greeted cheerfully. "Beautiful as ever, Jamesina. And Eleanora, you are the sun on this dreary day!" He took my left hand and kissed the back of my fingers, his thumb running over the engagement ring, his eyes twinkling.

"It's wonderful to see you again," I curtseyed. I had practiced my greeting all morning, and it still fell flat in my wavering voice. Mister Forbes's good mood never broke; however, his smile widened as he let go of my hand to look me over.

Jamesina gave me a gentle smile and turned back to Mister Forbes. "Forgive her, Mister Forbes. Eleanora is a bundle of nerves this morning."

"Ah, 'tis no matter," he replied, wringing his own hands in either his own excitement or nerves. "Shopping for a wedding is nerve-wracking, my sister assures me." Jamesina chuckled as Mister Forbes offered me his arm. "Shall we?"

I smiled and gave him a meek yes before taking his arm.

Uilliam opened the door again, and Mister Forbes and I led the way to his chaise. Two brown horses pulled the closed carriage, painted a deep, royal green. Purple and gold thistles were embossed upon the doors.

His coachman, a young man with olive-toned skin and a mop of black hair, opened the door for us, revealing a soft purple inside, plush with bolsters lying in the seats. Mister Forbes helped me inside as I took in the elegantly carved paneling. A lantern hook hung above where I chose to sit, the lantern unlit so far in the cool of the day. Jamesina entered after me, sitting opposite, and I lost all hope in not sitting beside my future husband, for I felt I would not have a moment's peace with him beside me.

As Mister Forbes sat next to me, closing the door behind himself. "On we go," he said as the carriage lurched into the movement.

The ride passed with much small talk about business between Jamesina and Mister Forbes, with occasional polite questions directed toward me. But I was left to worry about how the day would proceed with my family meeting Mister Forbes. My brother had taken after my father's foul language and had less sense about it. He used it as if it were a first language, and he was seen as uncouth, even in our part of Charles Town. (Not that it had kept perspective wives at bay.) Perhaps Mister Forbes would call off the engagement due to their behavior? No, that was not something to hope for. My father would blame me, and I would be living at LaPearl quicker than I could say 'thatched roof.' I would have to make up for it by playing an excited bride-to-be.

The ninety-minute carriage ride left us with a mere fifteen minutes to spare, so said Mister Forbes's pocket watch. I noticed the trinket was of sleek silver, also etched with thistles. I was tempted to ask what the thistle plant meant to the Scots, but he had tucked it back into his waistcoat pocket as the carriage pulled to a stop.

The door opened quickly, and Mister Forbes was the first out. Jamesina followed promptly, helped from the carriage by Mister Forbes. "Good morning, Orville, Doreen," Jamesina greeted. My family was already here, and I winced. I only hoped they were in a good enough mood after a day-and-a-half carriage ride.

I took a steadying breath and exited the carriage myself, allowing Mister Forbes to help me from the stairs. "Thank you, Ruel," Mister Forbes said to the coachman. I now noticed that the young coachman was my age, with dark, curly hair, hazel, almond-shaped eyes, and an olive-toned face. “See to the horses and carriage; I will see you before supper."

"Aye, Master Forbes," he nodded in an accent I did not recognize as a typical servant's. Reuel and I locked eyes briefly before I turned away as Mister Forbes offered his arm to me.

My betrothed escorted me to the walkway before the inn. I smiled at my sister-in-law, who did not look much worse for wear despite the long ride. I withheld the urge to break from Mister Forbes, run to Nadine, and hug her. She looked radiant, and her tummy had grown in the months I had been gone, and her blonde hair seemed glossier than before. On the other hand, my brother stood tall, his head held high, and his dark eyes glaring between Jamesina and Mister Forbes.

Jamesina turned to us and held out a gesturing hand. "This is Mister Roderick Forbes and his fiancée, your daughter."

"Tis a pleasure to meet you," Mister Forbes said with a courteous bow. He loosened his arm and allowed me to greet my family with hugs and kisses.

My father grunted with acknowledgment and shook Mister Forbes's hand with a gruff greeting of his own. His beard was longer and his hair thinner than I remember, and his skin still had the ruddy hue of long nights of drinking. Even in the humidity, my mother wore her dowdy best and was still covered with a shawl. Her face seemed more tired than before, and I wondered what had gone on when Jamesina’s letter arrived announcing my engagement.

"How was the ride?" I asked Nadine as my parents, Jamesina and Mister Forbes, spoke among themselves momentarily, with regular pleasantries.

"Long," she responded, patting her belly. "But the babe and I made it."

"Lottie's father allowed you to travel?" I asked, referencing my dear friend and her father, a man I truly admired for his skill.

"Just so long as the ride goes slow," she responded, "though I didn't have much choice in the matter." She glanced at our father. "Mister Forbes's coachman was very understanding, however, and the ride was smooth."

I nodded; it was good to hear that Mister Forbes employed understanding servants, as my father was not so gracious. My father could not bear to break any appearance that we were not a well-knit family. I tucked a loose curl behind my ear and looked over my shoulder to see Mister Forbes's eyes on me. I shifted and looked back towards Nadine.

"He's…handsome?" Nadine said, taking note of the obvious age difference.

"More than twenty years older," I whispered, and she grimaced.

"Does he at least treat you well?" my brother, Adam, asked, glancing over my shoulder.

"Well, enough. The few times we have been in each other's company, he has been a gentleman."

In truth, aside from my lack of feelings for the man, Mister Forbes had been entirely gentlemanly and shown that he found me pleasing. But I had also appeased him in everything he had asked of me: the proposal, a private stroll around the garden, and a kiss.

I had, at least, admitted to myself that the kiss was not unpleasant. In fact, after the initial shock of the morning had worn off, I found it quite pleasing, and I would not mind it a second time.

"Is that your ring?" Nadine gasped, suddenly grabbing my left hand. She rotated my hand, watching even the grey light of the day catching in the ruby. "Look at that thing, Adam," she said in admiration.

"I've never seen anything so rich," my brother admitted. His eyes, however, took me in with a look of slight disgust, and I felt that I could read his thoughts: a wealthy man wants you? I saw the vein in his temple throb like my father’s when he got angry.

As if answering my brother’s look, Mister Forbes took a few long steps to stand beside me. I could only define the feeling I had as he stepped up to me as comfort. He stood taller than my brother and held his chin just as high, if not higher than my brother’s.

"Shall we?" he asked, offering his arm. I smiled up at him and nodded, taking his arm once more. I noticed he looked pleased with the admiration of the engagement ring, but I felt a distinct coolness towards my brother from my intended.

Mister Forbes gave us a short narration as we walked through the town, pointing out various shops and keepers he knew personally or even represented. There were many of the latter; nearly every other shop had a hand in drafting the Deed of Ownership or the Contract of Credit from the wealthy landowners. My eyes were just beginning to glaze over when we stepped up to the tailor. It was a two-story wooden building with windows overlooking the cobbled street. Painted along the eaves read 'Wilmer's Brass Buttons: The Only Tailor You Need.' For a moment, I wondered if everyone in Wilton had thought so highly of themselves. Mister Forbes also represented Wilmer and Olive Knox, the owners. I held my tongue, wishing to ask if he represented everyone in Wilton. Keep the good impressions up, I told myself.

We entered the shop to the sound of a ringing bell overhead. A man with long white hair looked up from a needle he was threading. "Ah! Mister Forbes! Wonderful to see you!"

"Good afternoon, Wilmer," Mister Forbes greeted, marching us straight to the counter. I held my dress above my shoes and quickened my pace to keep up with his long strides.

"Am I right in guessing this beautiful woman is your betrothed?" Wilmer asked, looking at me from over the tops of his spectacles.

"Aye, this is Eleanora Kirby, soon-to-be Forbes," he answered, running his hand over mine.

"How do you do?" I greeted correctly, giving a slight curtsey.

"Very well, thank you, miss," he answered, turning to address Mister Forbes again. "Congratulations to you both. Please take the time to look for a gown."

"Go on, leannan," Mister Forbes encouraged, releasing my arm and gesturing to the showroom.

I smiled, nodded into a curtsey, and turned to see that my family was also dispersing at Jamesina's encouragement. I clasped my hands before me and wandered to the nearest dress forms, looking them over.

I thought one was of a deep coffee color that matched my hair wonderfully. I smiled, though upon further inspection, I found the cut lower in the front, and the skirt was shorter than I would have liked. This would not do. I moved on. The next dress was a dowdy blue. It looked soft but was plain and simple. I reached out to feel the fabric and gasped. Satin, just like the sheets in Jamesina's home, I withdrew my hand as if burned. I looked over my shoulder to see Mister Forbes and Mister Knox were discussing something at the counter. Knox nodded eagerly while Mister Forbes was nearly grinning.

I glanced around the rest of the room to see that everyone else had busied themselves with looking at the buttons, cravats, and the less expensive items. However, Jamesina was watching me from near the door, a pleased look on her face. She had been conversing with a stick-thin woman with long grey hair tied in a braid. I tore my gaze away and returned to browsing. In the far right-hand corner was a gown the color of cream. Not only was it a rare and expensive color, but I also saw splashes of blue and green that drew my eye.

My feet moved of their own accord to the dress form. The splotches of color became more apparent, and I found that they were renditions of irises, lifelike in their own. It laced up in the front and was cinched in at the waist. I could feel my mouth open in awe as I gently brushed my fingertips across the skirt. Cotton. It was a cheap material, but the color was rare, expensive, and hard to keep. I swallowed. The gown was too extravagant for me, but it was incredibly sewn.

I heard footsteps approaching behind me. "Beautiful choice, m'eudail," Mister Forbes said, stepping even with me.

"Oh, no, this is too expensive for me," I said shyly, though I could not break my gaze with the dress. I resisted the urge to let my fingers run against the cotton in awe of the fine craftsmanship.

Mister Forbes gently took my chin and turned my head to face him. "Nothing is too expensive for you. Olive will take your measurements."

Before I could protest, the woman Jamesina had been conversing with took hold of my arm and whisked me into a private fitting room. Before I knew it, I was stripped down to my shift.

Inside the small room, there were more dress forms of both male and female origin, though they were all empty. A podium stood next to a stool; a book opened upon it. The woman marched me to the stool and scribbled something into the book. Sliding the pencil behind her ear, she took a measuring tape in her hand and turned to me.

The woman's bony fingers were freezing against my skin as she wrapped the tape around my breasts. "Mmhmm," she murmured, returning to the podium to scribble a number down. "Small and thin." Olive Knox dragged the podium closer.

"Hold out your arms," she said. I did as I was told, and she measured from fingertip to fingertip.

"How old are you?" she asked briskly.

"Twenty-four summers," I replied in a hoarse voice.

"Up, up, up," she said shortly, pushing on my shoulders to step onto the stool. I quickly did so. She dropped the tape from my shoulder and measured down to my ankle. "Small," she murmured. "You're a petite thing," she sighed as she scribbled down the numbers. Olive wrapped the measuring tape around my waist and then my hips.

"That dress will have to be taken in," she sighed. "I can only do so much, so I suggest you start eating those cakes you make, girl."

I swallowed. My father did not allow us to eat the sweets we made. Our bread and biscuits were usually stale pastries because they sold less quickly than the decorated deserts. I did not reply to the woman's mutterings unless directly asked a question, and she seemed perfectly fine with the arrangement. I was at the mercy of Olive Knox's bony fingers for several more minutes before she allowed me to get dressed again.

After half an hour of being poked and measured, I returned to the showroom to find it empty save for Mister Forbes and Mister Knox, who were discussing the swatches kept in a short but wide box. Mister Forbes set down a rich green square of fabric and shook hands with Mister Knox. He turned to me as I unsurely approached him and smiled, offering his arm. Beginning to become used to the arrangement, I immediately took hold of his arm, and he escorted me from the building, calling out a final goodbye to Wilmer Knox. I looked around for any sign of my family waiting for us in the street or in front of another shop, but all I saw were unfamiliar faces.

"Where did everyone go?" I ventured to ask as we walked, Mister Forbes's hand inching across to cover mine.

"Jamesina took them to check into a room. Young Missus Kirby was feeling ill with the babe," he replied.

"Oh, I had thought of asking her opinion of a couple other dresses."

"Ah, but your dress shall be ready within ten days," he told me, his hand fully covering mine now, the roughness caressing my hand. Turning to the right, I noticed we were on a mostly empty side street.

"The cream-colored one?" I gasped. Another turn; left this time. Mister Forbes nodded a twinkle in his eye. "Oh, no, that is too good for me, my family…we could never afford it—"

Mister Forbes pulled me in front of him, and I suddenly became aware we were in a short, empty alley with a dead end. He stopped me at the stone wall behind a vacant house and a quiet tavern. He cupped my face in both hands and smiled, letting his thumbs brush the apples of my cheeks. I felt a tingling in my stomach at the gentle touch.

"I can afford it, and nothing is too good for my bride," he said, lifting my head slightly and kissing my lips.

I let out a soft sigh, enjoying the feel of his lips against mine. His lips massaged against mine in a gentle movement, and I dared to repeat his actions. He let out an amused hum and stepped towards me, encouraged by my willingness to accept his kisses. He deepened the kiss as we fell into a gentle give and take, sliding his hands from my face and over my arms. I let my hands move towards him, placing them against his upper arms. His tongue danced over my lips, and I shivered at the strange feeling and sighed into him, my hands tightening into his hard muscles.

He let out a heavy breath and slid his hands down my back to my waist, pulling me towards him. Slightly off balance, I leaned into him, sliding my hands to his broad chest. I let all thoughts float out of my head, enjoying the attention, the feel of his lips against mine, the pressure of his hands on my back, and the feel of his soft suit beneath my fingertips.

As our lips parted, I thought our kisses were at an end, but instead, he adjusted his head and gently slid his tongue into my mouth. I jumped at the odd feeling and tried to back away from him, but he only tightened his arms around me, softly grunting. My hands tightened in a growing panic against his chest, and his tongue withdrew. A hand ran the length of my back, tickling my spine, almost in an apology. My back arched as his fingertips tickled me, and I let out a soft moan, having found the intimate touch pleasing. My mind whirled. I liked the attention but was now aware we were in an empty alleyway. I felt that mixture of elation and guilt again.

Mister Forbes ran his hand along my spine again, and I arched my back, only slightly aware of what the movement did to my front. I opened my mouth and let out a gasp of a moan. I could riddle these feelings later, I told myself. I liked the feeling of his hands against my back too much. Deciding to enjoy further attention from him, I opened my mouth against his again, and with a groan of his own, he slid his tongue back into my waiting mouth.

As his tongue explored my mouth, I noted that he tasted like mint and cinnamon. And I quite liked it. My fingers curled into his suit again, a fire burning through my veins like the taste of cinnamon. Yes, I enjoyed it very much. But, I told myself, we are in an alleyway. This is not how I want this to happen.

I broke our lips apart with a soft sigh, trying to signal that I was done, my heart hammering against my ribcage. Mister Forbes reacted by allowing his lips to leave mine to find my cheek, kissing gently up my face to the shell of my ear and down my neck.

I felt my skin prickle with excitement and nerves. I wanted him to continue and to stop. I wanted him to press me against the wall, and I wanted him to let go of me. His kisses traveled along my throat to the other side of my neck. He made a light grunt, and a hand left my waist to feel over my hip and stomach. His strong fingers gave slight tugs on the dress's laces, starting at my navel. I sighed as his tongue gently danced along my neck, his lips slowly encasing his tongue in a sucking and nibbling sensation. I gave a soft moan, and he reacted with one of his own, pulling me closer to himself. I felt a hard bulge press against my navel from him, and I gasped.

Mister Forbes sighed against my neck. "Eleanora," he whispered into my ear as his hand found my breast. He gave a gentle squeeze, and though I felt excited, I was suddenly aware of how alone we were in this alley, how utterly inappropriate this was.

I pulled slightly away from him, seeing a chance and drawing a line. "Please, stop," I whispered.

"Don't you like this?" he asked, his hot breath against my neck. He had the courtesy to withdraw his groping hand, leaving me feeling relief and disappointment. His hand found my hip again and pulled my hips closer.

"Yes," escaped my lips. But I knew I could not allow myself to go further and do more when I was so aware of being in an alley.

He gave my neck another few kisses, and my skin prickled in pleasure. "Then what is the matter, sionnach?"

"Please," I said, mastering myself and pulling away. "Not here."

He sighed in annoyance, but then his face fell into a resigned understanding as he looked around the empty alleyway. "You're right, not here," he said, adjusting his jacket sleeves. With little shame, he adjusted the bulge in his trousers. I flushed and decidedly found the brick walls more interesting, realizing I had been the cause of the swelling.

"My apologies, Eleanora," he said, again offering his arm to me. He did not look at me.

"It is quite alright," I replied, taking his arm and hoping against hope that I had not just ruined my chances of saving myself from a brothel.

Chapter Text

4. White Jasmine

Mister Forbes led me back to busier streets briskly, forcing me to double my steps to keep up with his longer stride. He turned left onto a lesser road where the shops were less and the homes greater, but the people were still few. A large wooden building was in the center of the street, creating a dead end. Not only did it draw my eye to the placement, but it looked like it had been burned in a fire. All the wood had been painted black, leaving it a stark difference from the rest of the stone and brick buildings. The eaves were painted in a white flowing script reading Lovelust Apothecary.

Mister Forbes slowed his pace as we approached. The street was not busy towards the shop, and I wondered what kind of apothecary this was with a name like that. As we approached, many things were running through my head, but I did not dare to ask.

Mister Forbes cleared his throat. "Horace Lovelust is a peddler of all things to do with herbs," he said, his mood lighter than moments ago. "Anything you could want from a plant he has in his shop. As an apology for my forward behavior, I ask that you pick out a bottle of parfum."

"Oh, that's very kind, but not—"

"Eleanora," he interrupted, stopping and turning to me. His smile reached his green eyes, and he cupped my face. "Allow me my apology." He spoke with a gentle sternness, and there was a true warmness to the apology on his face.

I could not help a flutter in my stomach as I looked into his green eyes. I nodded with a shy smile. "Alright," I said quietly. Mister Forbes smiled and placed a chaste kiss on my forehead. As he did so, I became acutely aware of where his lips had been moments ago and that my lips and body still hummed at the attention I had received. My mind warring between feelings of excitement and uncleanliness.

We entered the apothecary, and I was hit by the scent of strong basil, wood, and a spice that made my tongue burn. I wrinkled my nose and cleared my throat at the assault on my senses. "Aye, he's mixing something for someone," Mister Forbes agreed, his face scrunched at the smell. "Here." He ushered me to the far side of the room, where a long table was lit with many candles made of red wax.

Small and large glass bottles of varying shapes and colors were arranged upon ancient-looking trays, each with a particular scent. A flag in the middle of the table read eau de parfum.

"What does that mean?" I asked, looking up at Mister Forbes.

He smiled. "It is French for scented water, for that it all parfum is," he answered kindly. He nodded to two other flags on the table, also in what I assumed to be French. "That one means for men, and the one down here means for women."

"Oh," I nodded in understanding. Mister Forbes loosened his arm and allowed me to examine the women's section.

Looking over the different sizes and shapes of glassware, I felt lost. Mister Forbes leaned close to me. "Have you ever attempted parfums before, leannan?" he asked. His voice was not teasing or amused but soft and curious.

I looked up at him and shook my head. "I had never even seen a bottle until I came to Wheatrest."

He gave me an easy smile and reached past me, picking up a middle-sized green bottle. The label on the front was a picture of leaves I could not identify, but the script below read eucalyptus.

Mister Forbes unstopped the bottle, bringing forth a small glass oar along with the stopper. He held the bottle out to me. "Smell."

I took a small sniff of the water and nearly jumped back, stifling a cough. Grinning with amusement, Mister Forbes smelled it himself and repeated my actions. "Aye, very strong," he agreed, stopping the bottle and putting it back in its place.

"Roddy! Is that you?" came a gravelly voice from across the shop. We both turned to see a tall man in an English red coat striding across the floor, a small wicker basket in hand. The man seemed to be the source of the basil smell, as it grew stronger the closer he came.

The man glanced at me as he walked. Holding my eyes for a moment while I took in his features, I noticed his eyes were steel grey and looked in a perpetual state of foul humor. He had a square jawline, and I nearly laughed to see that the black hair that covered his head reached down either side of his face to connect over his mouth. His suit was well-tailored, and he looked to be a well-ranking English Dragoon and closer to my age than perhaps Mister Forbes.

"Ah, Dunkirk!" Mister Forbes greeted, reaching out a hand to shake his friend's.

"Am I right in assuming this lovely creature is your bride-to-be?" he asked in a thick English accent.

"Aye, this is my Eleanora," Mister Forbes said, offering his hand to me. I took it and curtsied. “This is Adelard Dunkirk.”

"How do you do?" I greeted correctly.

"Very well," he answered, raking his eyes over me before turning to Mister Forbes, saying something in a language I could not understand. I withheld a shudder at the movement of his eyes down my body. I already didn't like this man, and that Mister Forbes was friendly with him was a strike against my betrothed.

Mister Forbes nodded and turned to me. "Please finish picking out your gift, leannan," he said before striding to the far end of the table with Mister Dunkirk.

Allowing the men their privacy and finding peace in being alone for a moment, I glanced over the table, looking for something to catch my eye. I tried several different colored bottles, two shades of purple, a pink, and a blue, all the flowery scents I had seen in gardens before. But at the end of the table was a small tray of clear bottles with a white flower I didn't recognize. Approaching, I took a small bottle, reading the name: white jasmine. I unstopped the bottle and took a small sniff. I found it pleasant and immersive, soft and pretty. This would be my scent if I had to choose for Mister Forbes.

Returning the stopper, I looked for Mister Forbes to let him know I had found one, but he was already approaching me. Mister Dunkirk was retreating to the door, but he cast a final glance backward, first glaring at Mister Forbes and then lingering on me. I quickly broke eye contact and withheld a shudder. Something told me being the center of that man’s attention was a very bad place to be.

"Ah, white jasmine," he said, picking up a large bottle. "A lovely choice." He nodded for me to put the small one down. When I would've argued, he gave me a stern yet kind look. I smiled in defeat and placed the small bottle back onto the tray. "Is there anything else you want to look for, m'eudail?"

I glanced around the shop, taking in the hanging plants, bouquets, and other glass vials. "No, I don't think so," I replied, hoping he would not insist.

He smiled. "Very well then," he said, but he leaned towards me with a teasing twinkle in his eye that I could not help but find charming. "But I do fully intend to spoil you. Be prepared."

I couldn't help but laugh at his quiet words, and I felt myself color as he winked and gestured for me to follow him. At the far end of the table, Mister Forbes stopped at the men's section and took a large bottle of sandalwood and sage-scented water for himself; then, we made our way to the shopkeeper's counter.

There stood a man roughly the same age as Mister Forbes but shorter. He was nearly my five-and-a-half-foot height and was rounded with the wealth of good food. Though he looked to be in his forties, he had a short white beard matching his hair color, but he had kind brown eyes that reminded me of a puppy. The man nodded to us as we approached. "Good afternoon, Mister Forbes," he greeted. And who is this young woman?"

"Eleanora, my bride," Mister Forbes said proudly, placing a hand against the center of my back.

I was beginning to feel like Mister Forbes saw me as a prize won with how he introduced me, and I was getting annoyed by it. But I curtseyed nonetheless and greeted the man with a How do you do?

"I am well, thank you," he replied. "And yourself?"

Surprised to be addressed in return, I gave a genuine smile. "Very well, thank you."

The man smiled. "Very well indeed, I'm sure. And allow me to gift you both something for your happy occasion!"

Before I could protest, Mister Forbes spoke up. "Thank you, Horace."

"I shall have Arabella basket these for you," he said, nodding to a black woman my age. She approached from the side, where she had been unnoticed until addressed. She stepped forward with a small basket lined with soft linen cloth.

As the men spoke, I watched with interest as the woman wrapped each bottle in its green cloth and then nestled them into two small pillows. She then added a pouch of what I assumed to be tobacco for Mister Forbes and, as Mister Lovelust said, a small vial of lavender for relaxation for me. I wondered what that could mean, especially with how he said it. But I liked the smell of lavender anyway; it could be a small parfum gift.

"The price for you is forty shillings," Mister Lovelust said when finally prompted by Mister Forbes.

I nearly fell over as I heard the price. That was almost half of my father's payment for Nadine's dowry. "Wonderful," Mister Forbes said, pulling out a coin purse. After counting out forty silver shillings and handing them to the shopkeeper, Mister Forbes turned to me and gave me a smile and a wink. I returned his smile almost wanly.

"Here you are, Mister Forbes," Lovelust announced, handing over the basket. "You'll come back soon, I hope."

"Of course, au revoir," Mister Forbes said, nodding to the man and offering his arm to me. As we left the shop and entered the mostly empty street, Mister Forbes stopped and turned to me once we cleared the shop windows. "What is the matter, m'eudail?" he asked. "You look pale."

I looked down and felt myself flush. "It's just that… forty shillings had been over half of Nadine's dowry. It seemed like so much at the time."

"Ah," he sighed, setting down the basket and cupping my face with both hands. "I fear that is something you will have to get used to, for you are moving up in the world."

I nodded. "I understand, it's just…" I sighed, faltering, feeling at a loss for words. I was coming to like the feel of his hands beneath my jaw or upon my cheek. It felt intimate and loving, and it rattled my brain, so I couldn't think.

"A big change?" he supplied, running his thumbs over the apples of my cheeks. I wondered if Mister Forbes knew what it was doing to me.

"Yes," I managed in agreement, feeling embarrassed and excited.

He gave a light chuckle and pressed a kiss to my forehead, then one to each cheek, and finally, he gently kissed my lips. "It'll come," he said gently before placing a final kiss on my lips. I almost wanted to grab hold of him and ask for more, but I withheld myself.

He let go of my face and bent to pick up the basket. "Would you like to carry your parfum?" he offered me the basket, and, still feeling a little drunk from his kisses, I took the basket without much thought. "Come, we shall meet your family at the tavern for lunch."

From the apothecary to the tavern was quite a walk, nearly a mile, and the basket began to get quite heavy with two large bottles of parfum. However, Mister Forbes assured me that I could keep my own bottle and that he would take the basket home. "Though, perhaps, you will wear some of your perfume tonight for me?" he asked hopefully.

I flushed. "I will," I answered.

With Mister Forbes's compliments and kisses, I was beginning to feel like a woman. I was about to be married off to a well-to-do man. A man, I had to keep telling myself over and over, for he was nearly twice my age and had more experience in the world than I. He knew at least two other languages to my one.

Mister Forbes hummed. "Oh, Eleanora, I cannot wait until you see the home you will be mistress of.”

Jamesina and my family were already in the great room when we arrived at the tavern. Our party had been seated near the back at a table fit for ten, leaving just a few empty seats. My father sat at one end of the table while Mister Forbes sat at the other, and I was placed beside my husband-to-be. Jamesina sat opposite me while my brother and mother sat beside my father. Nadine sat beside me, leaving the empty chairs against the wall and space between herself and my brother.

Mister Forbes recommended a lovely lunch of roasted beef stew, and though reluctantly, my father agreed, we were soon served. Very little of interest was spoken of at the table. My father and Mister Forbes asked each other polite questions about business, while Jamesina would regale everyone with a story or two from Scotland.

At the end of our luncheon, Mister Forbes announced that dinner would be served around eight-thirty tonight, and he would send a carriage for us about ninety minutes before. His servants would take care of our luggage at that time, and I was again made aware of how far up I was marrying, and I felt anxious. What did this man see in me?

After excusing himself from the table, he offered his hand and bowed low over mine. "Until this evening, leannan," he said. He nodded to the rest of the table and took his leave, leaving my parfum in my hands. I could feel a glare from my father as he placed the bottle in my hands. Before checking in, he had one or two private errands to ensure everything was prepared for our arrival.

Jamesina turned to address the table, but her eyes were on me. "Mister Forbes has gone to pick up Eleanora's wedding gift. Is there an allowance for her to do the same?" she asked.

"It ain't much," my father said gruffly. His reddened face looked wane, and I knew he wanted to drink. He needed it after seeing the bottle of parfum that so clearly was not my wedding gift. "I can't afford something as rich as he would present." My father's voice was tight. He had felt insulted by Mister Forbes's presence of wealth. His pride was warring with his want to see me out of his house. I could see in his mind the allowance he had initially planned to give me was shrinking with each moment. But he did not know that I had brought my coin purse. I had been silently filling for years; spare change given as a small token from customers who had requested deliveries.

"Mister Forbes loves your daughter, Orville," said Jamesina, aware of my father's insulted feelings. "He will enjoy whatever she picks for him."

"Aye," was all my father could muster.

"There is plenty of time for personal shopping if you would rather not stay in the inn; as a reminder, Mister Forbes had invited you all to stay on his estate for the night and discuss the wedding," Jamesina said, holding her hand for my parfum bottle.

My father gave an annoyed, almost irate reply of acceptance as he watched the handoff. I wondered how he would confront me about my choice of men when we arrived home. I hid my discomfort as we all stood to leave. Jamesina took my parfum to our room, where my luggage sat. She called one last instruction to return by six o'clock to prepare for our dinner.

Outside of the tavern, my father handed me a ratty coin purse. "Ten shillings. That's all I can afford to give you," he said.

I suspected the dowry paid by Mister Forbes was far greater than ten shillings, but this was his way of quiet revenge. Rather than arguing, I accepted the task of finding something good enough for Mister Forbes. I could supplement it if I had to. "Thank you, da," I said, reaching up and hugging him. He grunted and patted my back a little too hard, and I let go quickly.

Nadine and Adam would accompany me on my quest, as they had little money not earmarked for the coming babe. I looped an arm with my sister-in-law, and we made our way towards the open market, my brother following at a slightly slower pace. Nadine and I spoke rather than looking for a present; we made several turns about the market, hardly looking around us, as I told her of the two proposals. She had been quite surprised to learn of the two offerings, and not even my parents knew of Mister Rigsby.

I winced. I hoped it would not get back to them, for I knew my brother would tell my father the soonest chance I gave him to betray my trust. I knew that Mister Forbes was a showboat, and adding that I could have had a more affluent husband would simply fuel the fire. However, if they had seen Mister Rigsby, I assume my father would have been happy to see me in the hands of the fractious man.

"Shouldn't you be looking for a wedding gift?" my brother asked.

Rainclouds were darkening the sky, and time was getting on. "I wouldn't know where to start," I sighed, realizing the truth in his words. I would not get another chance to shop until my return home, and Charles Town was much more expensive than Wilton would be.

My brother looked around and nodded to a bookshop. "He's a lawyer, isn't he? I imagine he likes books."

"I'm sure he has a whole library full of them, Adam," Nadine said, annoyed.

"Aye, but Mistress Jamesina did say he would like anything she picked out," Adam argued.

"Why not an ink and quill set?" Nadine asked, turning to me. "He is always writing, isn't he? Drafting contracts and wills?"

"Well, book or quill, it'll be in the bookshop," I said, leading the way. Perhaps I could find a book to make myself cheery about returning home.

At home, we only had the books my grandmother had not sold in her estate, so Adam and I were keen on looking in a bookstore. We could never afford the one in Charles Town, not even with the windfall from Jamesina. Mostly because my father kept it.

The shop was called Lovet's and was two stories high. A balcony wrapped around the entirety of the store, full of tables and shelves. The bottom floor was just as full and rather busy.

"Where do we start?" Nadine asked, looking rather lost and confused. I had nearly forgotten that she could not read and could only write her name for official documents.

"Let's just pick a table and go from there," I suggested. "Don't you think, Adam?" I received no response. "Adam?" I turned around and saw that my brother was already several tables away, rifling through the worn books that were likely the cheapest Lovet's would have. I smiled and looked at Nadine. "Looks like it is just us."

"I suppose so," she laughed.

"Here," I nodded to a table with a flag reading journals. "Maybe Mister Forbes would like a journal for himself."

This suggestion relaxed Nadine. She could help pick out colors and designs; no reading was involved. We wandered over to one end of the table. I looked over each journal carefully as Nadine simply skimmed them over, looking for something that caught her eye. She tended towards bright colors and quickly ended up near the end of the table with yellows and oranges.

As I rummaged through the journals, I found a pale green leather journal that was somewhat shorter than the others. The color reminded me of Mister Forbes's eyes. I pulled it from the row and looked it over. Purple and deep green thistles decorated both sides, with a long leather strap wrapped around the book. A small silver thistle hung off the end. This was perfect for him. I gently opened the corner and peered at the top of the first page. The price is written in a light pencil mark of… one pound.

My breath caught in my throat. I had ten shillings from my father, that was half. I pulled out my own coin purse and added them to the coins my father had given me. "Nineteen," I sighed quietly in disappointment.

"Shopping for a wedding gift?" said a voice in my ear. I turned quickly, nearly dropping my coins and the journal.

The voice's owner steadied me, and I looked up into Mister Dunkirk's cool eyes to find him just inches from me. "Y-yes. It's lovely to see you again," I said, remembering my manners. I gave him a slight curtsey, and he chuckled. He was too close.

"And you," he replied, showing far better manners than earlier this afternoon. He had the decency to back up a step. He was still too close.

Mister Dunkirk offered his hand for the journal, and I reluctantly handed it to him. "Ah, Roddy would like this very much. Very Scottish. Good choice, love," he said, unraveling the cord to flip backward and forwards through the journal, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Thank you," I responded, feeling very uncomfortable under his searching stare. He was barely two paces away.

"What type of parfum did you decide on this noon?" he asked, seemingly reveling in how uncomfortable I was.

"Oh, uhm, white jasmine," I said slowly, wondering if this conversation was appropriate.

"Hmm.” I could almost feel his chest rumble in his response. I leaned back into the table.

"You know," he began after looking me over once again. "I overheard something curious in the marketplace." I swallowed, leaning far enough the table threatened to move. Mister Dunkirk's eyes twinkled at my discomfort. He flipped through the journal again, his eyes still on me. "I wouldn't worry, Miss Kirby. Roderick will not let a rare beauty like yourself go so easily." I felt my eyes widen as he returned the journal to my hands.

"How—" I began, but he merely reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a shilling.

"Twenty," he said, placing the coin on the journal in my hands and leaning over me. "White Jasmine is an excellent choice," he whispered in my ear. I shuddered in disgust as he left me feeling used and dirty without even having touched me.

He walked away before I could thank him, protest the shilling, or scold him for eavesdropping. I swallowed, feeling a weakness of nerves in my arms. I let out a shaky breath as both Adam and Nadine approached me.

"Who the devil was that?" my brother asked. I could forgive his use of foul language this time.

"One of Mister Forbes's acquaintances," I replied weakly.

“I don’t like him.”

"Neither do I, but he gave me the final shilling to pay for this journal."

"Well, let's pay and get out of here before he returns," Nadine hissed.

Chapter Text

5. Learned

We arrived back at the tavern with just enough time to get ready. I was whisked away into Jamesina's private quarters, where she surprised me with a new gown the color of red wine, something that Mister Forbes had, of course, sent over. Embroidered thistles danced up the bodice over each breast, and rather than lacing, it buttoned up the front.

"Mister Forbes has exquisite taste," Jamesina said, dabbing my new parfum on either side of my neck. I held out my hands, and she dabbed the small glass oar on the inside of either wrist.

"It's beautiful," I agreed as Jamesina finished applying the scented water. In truth, I felt like being swallowed up by the floor. The neckline was lower than I would have liked, and the bodice was too tight.

She drew my dark hair over one shoulder and loosely tied a black ribbon below my earlobe to keep it from falling backward. "How becoming," she announced, cupping my face. “You look like a lawyer's wife. And I have something for you to borrow."

Jamesina unclasped a thistle pendant from her neck with a purple-pink jewel, much like the one Mister Forbes made a habit of wearing over his heart.

"What is this for?" I asked as she clasped it over my throat. The jewel hung just above the crevice between my breasts, and I felt even more exposed.

"Not only will this symbolize your excitement to become his wife, but this will also remind Mister Forbes of what he has to look forward to." I nodded, feeling a burning in my cheeks. As she told me some weeks ago, a necklace, especially a rich pendant, drew the eye to the bosom. "I fear your father has made some… insensitive comments about Mister Forbes that got back to him."

I adjusted in my chair, placing my hands over my stomach, and felt as though cold water had been poured down my back. I should've known.

"Do not worry, Eleanora," Jamesina said, squeezing my shoulders. "I will not allow your father to send you to that godawful brothel in Charles Town."

"H-how did you—?"

"Things have a way of getting back to me as well, dear," she answered. "I normally would not have taken a debutante from so far away, but I was not about to let one of Innes's cousins send his only daughter to a whorehouse."

Tears of gratitude pricked my eyes, and I nodded. She bent down and kissed the top of my head. "Enough of that lass," she said, patting my shoulders.

I nodded again, wiping away the threatening tears, and took a deep breath. "Does Mister Forbes know? What my father planned to do?"

"No, he does not; I have made sure of it. What he does know, however, is that he is uncouth by his own show of manners." Jamesina helped me to my feet, nudging the purple heels that matched the gown in front of me. She held onto my hands as I slipped my stocking feet into them. "And none of this 'Mister Forbes' business. I am delighted that my etiquette teachings took so well, but he is to be your husband. 'Roderick' is much more appropriate. He has been understanding thus far."

I nodded to the sudden stern reminder. "Yes, ma'am."

Smiling, Jamesina left me to check herself in the full-length mirror across the room. I smoothed over the bodice, looking myself over in the vanity. I looked rich enough to be a lawyer's wife, but I was beginning to feel like a garden with so many thistles on my body.

As I looked at my face, I felt like a fraud. I had the countenance of a baker's daughter. It was like putting a pig in a dress, as my brother had said when Uilliam and Rory had come for me those months ago. They had dressed me in a flowing travel gown that was more expensive than my entire wardrobe.

I blinked hard and turned away from the mirror, unable to look at myself. "What do thistles mean to the Scots, Jamesina?" I asked, hoping the question would distract me from the dark thoughts. "They were painted on Mister—Roderick's chaise as well."

My cousin smiled warmly at me despite my mistake. "They are the flower of Scotland, dear. Symbolizing our pride and courage to fight against our oppressors."

I nodded. "I see," was my reply.

"Mister Forbes will be delighted to know you are curious about his heritage!" she said with a broad grin.

Before I could argue that I had asked the extent of my curiosity, there was a knock at the door. "Master Forbes's chaise has arrived for you, ma'am," came a voice from the hallway.

"All ready then, love?" she asked.

I withheld a shudder at the term and nodded. While I had mostly forgotten the interaction with Mister Dunkirk, the name brought it flooding back. I wondered if it would be worth telling Mister Forbes about it before he heard it from somewhere else and became angry with me.

Jamesina and I left the room to be greeted by his young coachman, Reuel, if I remembered correctly. I smiled in greeting upon meeting his eye as we exited the room. He gave a slight nod before going inside and retrieving Jamesina's small trunk, which held everyone's day wear, and my wedding gift to Mister Forbes, one in which she had also expressed delight. It gave me hope that he would genuinely like the journal.

My family met us further down the hall. Their best was dowdy, just like mine had been when I first came to Jamesina. We may have been poor, but if well-worn, most of our clothes were free from holes.

My father and brother wore identical pine-green suits with ruby-red cotton scarves used as makeshift cravats. They each wore new buckled shoes, as they were the current fashion. My mother wore a simple brown dress with her greying hair tied into place behind her head. Nadine wore one of my mother's maternity gowns, a gentle grass green to accompany her husband's pine suit. Jamesina wore a purple-red, floral-printed gown that looked like a mass of curtains wrapped around her body. Her greying hair was tied similarly to mine but with a silken scarf rather than a ribbon.

I was aware of how expensive I looked compared to my family, and they were instantly aware of it. My father's sour face looked away from me. I could see the urge to spit upon me in the vein that throbbed at his temple.

"Ellie, you look so… rich," Nadine gasped as we approached them.

I wanted to defend myself, say Mister Forbes had sent it over, but I bit my tongue. Instead, I curtseyed. "Thank you," I replied, using the manners Jamesina had taught me.

"You're welcome?" she said slowly, knowing the reply was not my own.

I thinned my lips and raised my eyebrows. She understood the sentiment with a nod and covered her smile with a hand.

"Shall we? Young Reuel here shall lead us," Jamesina announced, beckoning for the servant to proceed.

We followed the young man out into the tavern courtyard: Jamesina and I first, my parents, and then Adam and Nadine. The rain had stayed away so far, but the sky was darkening further with the threat. Reuel slid the trunk into the luggage rack beneath the carriage before opening the door, noting my look at the sky. "Don't worry, miss," he told me as Jamesina climbed in first. “We shall arrive before the storm breaks."

I curtseyed a thank you and smiled at him, his mouth quirking upward.

Reuel helped the women first. I sat between Jamesina and Nadine while the men and my mother sat across from us. The carriage jerked into motion and began heading east.

"Does Mister Forbes have many slaves?" Nadine asked, looking at Jamesina.

"Ah," Jamesina scolded gently. "Mister Forbes does not own slaves. He pays his servants, free men who live upon his estate, a good, living wage."

I felt a relief to know that I was not marrying into a slave-owning man's life. It was one thing I felt in the pit of my stomach to be wrong. No human should be forced to work without pay, and I was not about to marry someone who treated another as property. It gave me more hope that the man I would marry would treat me favorably.

"Oh, I just didn't know," Nadine stammered.

"It is no bad thing to ask questions to learn," Jamesina said. "But it is a sore subject to us Scots. We will not own people, and Mister Forbes is stern on that. However, politics is not a subject to discuss tonight. We are dining with Mister Forbes to discuss his union with Eleanora."

"Aye," my father grunted, crossing his arms.

"He is a good man, Orville. He will look after your daughter."

"Spoil her more than likely," he returned, gesturing to the gown I wore.

"Your son will have your booming bakery, Orville, and what will your daughter have?"

"A rich husband."

I looked down at my feet. Thanks to measurements from Jamesina, Mr. Forbes had bought new shoes along with the dress. I pulled my feet back until they were beneath my skirt. My cousin put an arm around my shoulders and held me steady as we rode. The silence was deafening in the carriage.

Our arrival at Mister Forbes's was met with an explosion of thunder. I felt ice in my veins as the carriage pulled to a stop. My fate would be sealed after dinner tonight. Mister Forbes would either keep to his proposal or dismiss us. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I nearly jumped out of my skin as the door was opened, and Reuel stood there, his hand awaiting Nadine's. I nodded to her, saying it was alright to go, but my brother was the first to exit, sending a jealous look towards Reuel.

Adam helped Nadine from the carriage and out onto the drive. Just out of the corner of my eye, I could see them both pause in their tracks. My mother was next, taking Reuel's hand, followed by my father, who ignored the servant. Both stopped mid-step, staring ahead of themselves, mouths agape. I wondered suddenly if Mister Forbes had grown another head, and that is what they were all staring at.

Jamesina stood and moved around me, gently nudging my parents aside, murmuring about the rain breaking any second. I was last. I took Reuel's hand as I stepped out and saw what everyone had been staring at.

The house we stood in front of was a neat two stories, the stone the color of freshly baked bread. There were two wings, each with a chimney and an ivy trellis clear to the roof. Heather and morning glories were planted along the front of the house, growing splendidly in various blues and purples. The estate sat a mile outside of town, surrounded by many trees and much land, all unfarmed. But he was a lawyer, not a farmer. The surrounding woods were perfect for hunting venison; perhaps he hunted in his spare time. My eyes wandered back to the house. The man who owned it all stood before a mahogany double door.

Mister Forbes stood at the door, dressed in lavender, grinning as we admired his home. He gave his home an approving glance before focusing on his guests.

"Welcome," he announced, coming down the few steps from the door. "If the weather was permitting, I would give you a tour of the gardens, but as it is threatening rain, we shall have to wait."

He looked each of us over with a grin. "You all look splendid," he said, gesturing to us. "Now come in, come in before the storm breaks."

As soon as the door closed, there was a massive crash of thunder and the patter of rain against the roof, keeping us indoors for the night. I looked around the foyer to find a balcony overlooking the room, with stairs leading up to it, before it branched off to either wing. To my right was a closed door, and to my left sat a parlor; the doubled doors were thrown open in invitation.

I jumped as a hand was placed in the middle of my back and looked up into Mister Forbes's eyes. "Just in time," he whispered to me with a wink. His eyes roved over me in approval. "You look extraordinary, m'eudail."

I felt a blush creeping across my cheeks. "And you look charming, Mister Forbes," I replied with a small curtsey. I winced. "My apologies—Roderick." My husband-to-be grinned at using his given name, his eyes darting to the pendant at my throat and below. I felt my flush creeping down my neck, so aware was I of his eyes.

But he did not linger. Instead, his eyes met mine again, and he offered his arm to me. As I took his thick arm, I noticed that three people had gathered at the door to the parlor. As I took them in, I noted that they could all be related to Reuel, for their hair and skin were the same color. The eldest had streaks of white in his hair, tied back similarly to Mister Forbes, with the makings of a white beard. The man next to him stood just a hair taller than the older man and had the same mop of dark curls as Reuel, and finally, there was a woman. Tall and graceful she was, with long black hair braided over one shoulder. Where the two men were dressed in soft blue uniforms, she was dressed in what I could only describe as a magenta robe.

Mister Forbes urged me towards them, and as we stood before the small group, he introduced them. "This is John, Ronald, and Edith," he began, gesturing to each in turn. "You have already met the coachman, Reuel. John is the resident cook, Ronald is my factotum, and Edith here will be your handmaid."

I curtseyed to them. "How do you do?" I asked, unsure how to speak to them.

They all nodded to me, but John spoke in the same strange accent as Reuel. "Very well, thank you, mistress." John's dark eyes then turned to Mister Forbes. "Dinner will be served at eight-thirty."

"Very good, thank you, John," he said, nodding to them in a silent dismissal.

We turned to my family, and I noticed Jamesina attempting to block my father's view of the servants. He had clearly heard the introductions, for I could feel his heated gaze moving between Mister Forbes and myself. I shifted, once more quite aware of how I was dressed and very aware of my social standing compared to my betrothed.

"A tour of the house ought to keep us occupied until dinner is served," he announced as he tightened his arm around mine.

He held his chin proudly as he walked us towards the closed door to the right. Roderick took a key from his breast pocket and unlocked the door, pushing it open to reveal a grand room full of books and mahogany furniture. Plush parlor furniture was gathered around a hearth while a vast oak desk sat towards the far end of the room in front of another closed door.

"This is where I run my law practice," he began, turning us so we could address my family. "I both study and practice out of my home." As he spoke, I felt the challenge in his voice directed at my father, who would not meet his eye.

I swallowed. Yes, this dinner would seal my fate.

As the tour continued on, I could barely take in the words of my intended. I could feel the rage coming off my father, feel his eyes bore holes in my back. I could almost feel the belt slapping my back from the whipping he intended to give me once we got home. My fingers tightened into Mister Forbes’s sleeve, and he ran a rough hand over my own, almost, I thought, in comfort.

I was only pulled from my worries when we had left my parents at their room for the evening, and I was shown to my room. Jamesina's was across from mine, and she stood in the doorway as Mister Forbes showed me into my room, the biggest yet. The far half of the room was a small study, complete with many full bookshelves and an oaken writing desk that may as well have been a dining table, while the half we stood in was my bedroom. A large bed stood between two windows, while a chiffonier stood against the wall behind us, bedecked with wrought iron handles. A French dressing screen stood in the corner with flowers and cherubs painted on the panels.

Roderick stopped at the door as Jamesina, a silent chaperone, watched. "This will be your room upon your arrival after the wedding, leannan," he said quietly, nodding about the room. He gave me a warm smile. "But I hope we will learn to love each other as true wedded couples do."

My mouth opened to say something, but Mister Forbes only took my left hand and kissed my fingers. "I shall see you in a half hour for dinner, leannan."

Dinner was served promptly at 8:30. We gathered at a now slightly smaller dining table. Jamesina had explained to me the clever idea of table leaves that could be removed or added depending on the amount of company present, something she had in her own dining room.

I sat next to Roderick at the head of the table. Nadine and Adam were to my right, and Jamesina sat across from me. My father and mother sat at the other end of the table, leaving a single chair open between the two women opposite me. There was most definitely a rift among us.

Ronald poured a rich, red wine as the silence of the room became deafening. The sound of the wine filling the glasses was loud against the quiet, and the pattering of rain on the dining room windows was a dull roar in the background. Mister Forbes stood when the wine had been poured, announcing a toast.

"I welcome you all to my estate, Deer Run. May this dinner bring us together as a family. To my esteemed guests and my beautiful bride-to-be. Sláinte mhath!"

All except Jamesina repeated the cheers slowly and clumsily. The wine was sweet and fragrant; even my father took to it like a fish, downing his first glass. Ronald immediately refilled it, and I could not help worrying at my lip as I watched my father drink nearly half of his second glass in one draught.

As a first course, Reuel and Ronald spooned pea soup into bowls. I had never tasted something so savory, and after a few moments of eating, I found that everyone else had remained silent to enjoy the meal, but Roderick broke the quiet.

"How do you like the soup, Eleanora," Roderick asked, his pale green eyes sparkling.

"It's delicious," I answered, suddenly hoping I had been acting like the lady I was taught to be. "Your cook is very talented."

He smiled. "I will tell John you said so, but there is venison for the next course. I hope you will enjoy that as much as the soup." I smiled, unsure where to take the conversation, but Roderick saved me the effort.

"Now, Mister Kirby, is there anything you must have for your daughter's wedding? I am happy to oblige anything your family wants."

My father, though caught off guard momentarily, was quick to respond. "S'pose, I just wanted both my children to be married in front of a priest and not jump over the broom, so to speak." It was a much kinder reply than I had thought my father capable of after his behavior from the tavern to Deer Run.

Roderick smiled. "Of course. How many do you wish to invite?"

"Well," my father began, twirling his wine glass in thought. "Me and Doreen don't have many living relations that are close by. So, I suppose what you see here. Mistress Jamesina included."

Nodding, Roderick turned to me. "And you, Eleanora? How many of your friends would you like to invite?"

I could feel my father's eyes narrowing, sending me a glare, daring me to invite enough to deem me even more spoiled. "I just want Lottie and her husband invited. Lottie and I have been friends since we were small."

"Then it shall be done," Roderick smiled warmly. "I shall have you write her address so I can send the invitations."

"Now," Jamesina said from across the table, her eyes on me. "Wheatrest is still available for the wedding, so do not edit your guest list."

I glanced at my parents, wishing to invite her family as well. Lottie's parents had been better to me than my own. I was met with a glare from my father, and my mother ignored me altogether, instead focusing on her food. I merely smiled at Jamesina and nodded. "I will think about it."

As dinner went on, the drunker my father became, the more talkative he was. (I could only assume this was how he was at the taverns before he returned to the bakery.) Decorations were discussed over the venison steak that Mister Forbes had promised, and the food was discussed over a sweet apple pie. Various colorful flowers were discussed, and the backdrop was decided upon with Jamesina's encouragement to use her garden for the ceremony. Food of the Scottish tradition was strongly agreed upon. Through the wine and Jamesina's praise, my father was happy to oblige the pastries and baked goods if Jamesina would provide the means to bake them fresh, as 'his only daughter gets married once.' I hardly believed the drunken sentiment, but I was happy that the decisions weren't falling to me.

After the delicious supper, I felt the effects of good food and wine and wished to lie in a soft place for a nap. But it was not to be. Mister Forbes invited us to the parlor for Port, whiskey, and more discussions.

The parlor across from his law office was huge, with long bay windows covering the far wall. The curtains were drawn as the rain continued to patter away against the panes, and the room was lit by the hearth and a few candles as darkness had fallen. Shelves of books, busts, and vases lined the room's walls; plush, powder blue furniture sat around the blazing hearth as we entered. My eyes darted to the ornate writing desk in the middle of the room, and at the far end, a large wooden piano was under the window.

My mouth fell open, for I had not noticed it during the tour. I played no instruments and had never seen such a thing outside of the big church in Charles Town. I turned to Mister Forbes once I saw it, but he only led me to the small writing desk. "Here, Eleanora," he said, pulling out the chair and guiding me into it. "Write out your guest list, and don't forget the addresses." He leaned in closer to me. "Please don't leave out anyone you wish to be there," he whispered. "It is your day as well as mine. Don't worry about what your father has to say on the matter."

He stood up and sent me a wink as he walked back towards the hearth. I watched him as he approached my father and gestured for him to follow out of the room. They had gone to discuss the dowry agreement. Unsettled by the thought of a contract concerning myself and who was 'my guardian,' I turned my back to the rest of the room. I decided to take Jamesina's and Mister Forbes's advice. Wheatrest had been agreed upon and was big enough for me to feel comfortable enough to invite Lottie's family. I took up a goose feather quill and, in black ink, scratched out Charlotte and Ambrosius Pembroke, then followed the names of her parents and then her brother and his family.

I sat at the desk, allowing my fingertips to trace the floral motifs along the desk's wood and the silver writing stand. Everything Mister Forbes owned was incredibly ornate and expensive, and it was all soon to be shared with me, including the servants.

I looked over my shoulder. Jamesina was quietly discussing something with my mother at the divan while Adam and Nadine looked over Mister Forbes's collection of vases and sculptures. They seemed to already be in either awe of his wealth or hated him for it. I didn't want my friends to feel the same but desperately wanted them to be there.

I went over the list of people I could invite. Annabeth had just given birth; she could not travel so far with a baby. Ethel had moved to North Carolina following her husband's military career; she was too far. I sighed. It was undoubtedly wretched being the last of my friends to be married. I looked unhappily at the parchment.

I did not wish to write down my friends, who I knew could not make it. I did not want them to have to send a declining letter, but I was also too embarrassed to leave Mister Forbes with only three people from my side. I gritted my teeth and printed the names and addresses of my other friends. I hoped to send a letter stating that I just wished for them to know I was thinking of them at the time of my wedding and to feel no need to come.

It was nearing eleven o'clock when the talk died down, and my family began to disperse for bed. First, Adam and Nadine, so Nadine could let the babe rest, and then my parents, when the talk had died down from anything concerning my father. I was hesitant to go to bed. The sooner I slept, the sooner the morning would be here. In the morning, I would leave with my family for two weeks to await the wedding date, a warm July first. And the sooner I would be alone with my family, the sooner I would have to endure my father’s wrath.

It had been decided that the week before the date, my family and I would be retrieved and brought to Wheatrest, where we would prepare for the day. Mister Forbes would make a singular trip to an ailing client nearby and stop partway through the wait with my gown for a fitting. Missus Knox would then do the final hemming.

When Jamesina was ready to retire near midnight, she sent for John, the cook. The servant made himself scarce as he saw to the dusting of vases and busts on the far side of the room. This left Roderick, John, and I alone in the parlor with only the fire crackling and the storm's roar that continued to rage outside.

I tried to ignore that I was once again (mostly) alone with my husband-to-be. I was looking over a plaster bust, accompanied by beautifully bound books, nestled between two small bookends in the shape of an arrow. A vase of thistles and heather finished off the shelf.

I was very aware of Roderick coming up to stand next to me. I adjusted my grip on my wine glass, studying the bust as he placed a hand on the center of my back.

"This is Plato," he said, gesturing with his glass of whiskey. "An Ancient Grecian philosopher who lived before Christ." I looked up at him as he gestured over the books. "I quite admire a man of social justice."

"Did he write these books?" I asked.

"Yes, some. Others are speculations about his life." There was a pause. "And of course, m'eudail, you may read them upon your move. What's mine is yours." I felt myself blush, and I studied the wine in my hand. He gently nudged me, so I turned towards him. "You don't have to be afraid of me, Eleanora."

"I'm not...at least...I suppose... it's because you are so much more learned than I am," I managed, sounding as uneducated as I felt. I winced.

"Oh, lass," Mister Forbes placed a hand under my chin and smiled at me. "That will come. I cannot keep someone from their passion, especially learning." There was a pause. "I suppose it doesn't help that I am twice your age, does it?"

I flushed an even deeper red and looked down. Jamesina had warned me after the proposals not to bring this matter up, and I felt so bare for him to speak my own mind to me. He nudged my chin, so I looked up at him. "I want you to understand, Eleanora, that I will not raise a hand to you, I will not take a strap to you, and I most assuredly will not force you into anything you are unprepared for." I felt even more exposed as he spoke. So, he did know at least something about my father. "As for this afternoon..."

"Please..." I interrupted, meeting his eyes. I do not want you to think you made me overly uncomfortable. I was... uhm..." I cleared my throat. "I was enjoying your attention." Mister Forbes smiled at my words. It's just where we were that upset me."

He nodded and shifted his hand to my arm. "I understand, and I deeply, humbly apologize to you." He squeezed my arm with each word, and I knew he meant every syllable.

I smiled at him. "I have already forgiven you. I thought it was you who was upset with me."

"No," he said, kissing my forehead. “I couldn't stay annoyed with you, leannan."

I felt better about the afternoon, and some nervousness faded. "And you don't have to buy me anything to apologize," I said, feeling very candid.

"Ah, well, leannan, that goes against my every intent with you," he took a sip of his whiskey, and I could not help but giggle at the nonchalance.

He smiled warmly and offered his arm. "Come, I have something for you." Intrigued, I took his arm, and he led me to where he had been sitting most of the night.

On the end table, next to his ornate chair, was a beautifully crafted box of deep blue that sat upon the glass. He opened the plaster box gently, and with both hands, I saw little balls of what I suspected was chocolate, something so rare I had only ever heard about it from more affluent families.

"These are a little candy that I am rather fond of, and I would like you to try them," he said, plucking one from the top. "It is a chocolate-covered blueberry. The chocolate came all the way from Rhode Island, and Edith made these up this afternoon."

"I've never had chocolate before," I murmured, almost mesmerized by the tiny ball in his fingers.

"Then allow me to be the first to introduce you to the delectable treat."

I made to take the candy, but he tsked. Stopping short, I met his eyes and obediently opened my mouth. Gently, Mister Forbes placed the treat into my mouth, his thumb gently brushing my lips as they closed around the berry. He watched my lips as I chewed the fruit, sighing in pleasure.

"It's delicious," I said after swallowing.

"Aye," he whispered, placing a hand on my cheek. I shivered, setting my wine glass on the table. I was beginning to understand his intentions again, and I felt willing to allow myself his company.

Roderick cupped my face, his thumbs stroking the apples of my cheek. "Do I have your permission to kiss you?" he whispered.

I leaned into the warmth of his palms, relishing the gentle touch before nodding. Smiling, he pulled my face closer, bending down and placing his lips against mine. His kiss was gentle, but his fingers tightened against my face as our lips met. I sighed into him, placing my hands on his elbows, and slightly opened my mouth against his. I felt his tongue flit across my lips, and my fingers tightened against him. His suit felt soft and giving, of satin beneath my fingertips, and he smelled of his own parfum: sandalwood and sage.

I quite liked the smell, and I breathed his scent in deeply. Roderick broke the kiss. "Is something wrong?" he whispered.

I shook my head. "You smell good," was all I managed, trying to catch his scent again.

Mister Forbes chuckled and allowed a hand to slide to my neck, his fingertips lightly touching my skin. "As do you, m'eudail," he replied, placing his lips against mine.

His tongue flitted across my lips once more, and I allowed him entrance to my mouth, sighing as I tasted him; his tongue still held notes of his whiskey, of honey and oak.

Having not been so surprised this time, I decided to push back against his tongue with my own. He moaned softly into my mouth, allowing our tongues to mingle. Both hands strayed from my face, one sliding to support my tiring neck while the other trailed down my back, pulling me closer. My hands were forced from his elbows, and I found placing them against his chest comfortable.

His arm tightened around me before I willingly took a step closer to him, running my hands up to his shoulders. His chest was hard with muscle, and his shoulders were strong and broad. I sighed against him and stood on tiptoes to wrap my arms around his neck as he continued to massage his lips against mine.

A crash of thunder exploded over the house, causing me to jump into him. Mister Forbes tightened his arms around me, grunting as he pulled me closer. Bending me backward at the waist, he pressed our hips together. I felt his bulge against my naval, but I did not shy away; instead, I felt a jolt of excitement and leaned into him.

Roderick broke the kiss with a sigh, placing a hand against my cheek once again. His lips trailed over my face to my ear. "You are beautiful, Eleanora," he whispered, removing a stray lock of hair from my face.

His tongue danced around the outer ridge of my ear, making me shiver into his chest, his hot breath creating gooseflesh along my body. He gave a satisfied chuckle and did it again. I whimpered into his chest, running my fingers over his waistcoat, relishing the feeling of the softness of the satin. With a slight nibble along my earlobe, Roderick's tongue and lips danced down my neck, placing lustful kisses along my throat. He paused to suckle beneath my jawline as his hand slid to tease the exposed skin of my chest.

Sighing in unison, Roderick pulled away to look over my chest, his fingertips gliding along the dress's plunging neckline and back up to my shoulder. "Mauve is a delicious color on you," he whispered.

With the tingling of my skin and the dizziness of pleasure, my mind was left reeling for a reply. "I like you in lavender," was all I could manage.

He chuckled against my ear, making me sigh as his lips caressed my cheek. His hand slid over my shoulder and down my arm, taking my hand and pressing it against his chest. As he held my hand to him, I could feel the pounding, the racing of his heart, that I had been too distracted to notice before.

"Do you feel what you do to me?" he whispered. I nodded as his pale green eyes took my face in. "Do I not do the same to you?"

Emboldened by his attentions, I took his hand and placed it over my pounding heart rather than replying. He breathed deeply to feel the quickened rhythm, and then I pushed his hand slowly downwards so his hand cupped my breast. He groaned lightly, letting his hand linger as I slid my own back up his arm and to his chest.

Mister Forbes gently squeezed as his eyes took me in. I sighed at the sweet attention, and he pulled me closer, his hand now firmly cupping my breast. He cocked his head to the side and leaned down once more. I coupled our lips, massaging mine against his, melting into his touches. His firm hand groped my breast with gentle squeezes and treatment, his fingertips eventually straying along the neckline of my bodice.

He sighed in longing before running his hand to my face and pulling away. "You are more comfortable indoors," he commented.

I nodded, cocking my head for another kiss. "I don't feel so exposed."

He smiled rather than kissing me. "Are you enjoying this?"

I stood on tiptoes. "Very much."

"Then say my name," he said softly, leaning his face into mine, his hands firmly wrapped around my waist.

“Roderick,” I gasped.

With a gasp, he coupled our lips and allowed a long kiss, sliding his hands over my back. I felt an excitement that I was sure I had never felt before. I felt a warmth between my legs and wished for his touch in forbidden places.

As if sensing my wishes, Mister Forbes pulled away. "I am glad you are enjoying yourself," he whispered, letting go of me and straightening his waistcoat. "But I think this is enough for tonight, leannan." The look in his eyes told me that this was a sense of propriety speaking and not at all what he wanted.

I blinked at the abrupt change but took his proffered arm nonetheless. Quietly, we climbed the stairs under John's now watchful eyes; in my room, he gently opened the door and took my left hand, kissing my engagement ring.

"I thank you for your sweet company this evening, Eleanora," he said. "I hope you will allow me the pleasure again."

"Thank you for having me, Roderick," I responded with a curtsey.

Grinning, Roderick bowed again and left me alone in the doorway to my room. I smiled as I peered around the door to watch him enter his room down the hall. He turned back once, and our eyes met. I gave a shy wave as he smiled at me, and I slunk into my room, shutting the door.

I leaned against the wood, breathing deeply and taking stock of everything I felt. My heart was still pounding, and the warmth I had felt in my legs had turned into a slickness I had rarely felt. I took a deep, steadying breath and decided I liked the attention and wanted more.

My hand strayed towards the doorknob, but I thought better of it. No, I was a young lady with manners and dignity. This feeling could wait until marriage, as the Lord intended. Sighing regretfully, I told myself it was best to go to bed, to try to forget these feelings for the night. I felt myself over, my own hand venturing between my legs. I pulled myself to a stop with a wince.

Mister Roderick Forbes certainly had me in a grip, one that I was not sure I wanted to be released from.

Chapter Text

6. The Bumbling Bee

The following morning, I awoke to see a clear vase of three red roses on the bedside table. I smiled and felt I could get along very well with Mister Forbes—Roderick— maybe even for a lifetime. My begrudging tolerance of the man was beginning to melt into a likeability. It was not love I felt, but, I think, gratefulness in his (seeming) gentle nature and willingness to take me to wife.

He was a proud, vain man, but his touches and gentle insistences were contrary to everything I had heard about him. Perhaps behind closed doors, I would be treated kindly, and I could grow to love him as he hoped. At least I knew he would not force me to partake in anything I did not want to, though he certainly had a very persuasive way about him, and I found it hard to turn him away. Perhaps I could grow to feel more than shared lust for him sooner rather than later.

I got out of bed to peer between the curtains that framed the window. I held the curtain just enough to peer out, aware that I was in only my shift. The early morning sun was streaming into the garden below, a long, beautiful walk full of color, stretching for a quarter of a mile. The fog was burning up in the early sun, streaming into the air. I smiled to see Mister Forbes—Roderick—walking along the rosebushes in a stormy-grey suit, hands behind his back as he turned to look at the house. Our eyes met through the windowpane, and I could not help the smile that crept across my face. He gestured with his head, beckoning me to come down, and I returned it with a slight nod. 

Tucking a lock of hair behind my ear, I turned to dress myself for the long carriage ride home that awaited me. I changed into a fresh chemise behind a dressing screen. As I slipped off the old one, I looked over my breasts, where Roderick had cupped and squeezed. They were oddly sensitive as I thought of the attention they had been paid last night, my nipples pearling. I so desperately wanted to feel the firmness of his hands against my breasts again. 

As I cupped my own breasts in want, my mind strayed to a few months before my leaving when I had a delivery to the brothel. A lone couple stood in the parlor as I waited for the madame to return with the payment. The woman’s bodice had been undone, and the man’s mouth had been attached to her breast like his life depended upon the suckling of her tit. I wondered how Mister Forbes’s mouth would feel against the sensitive skin of my chest. The woman’s eyes had been closed, and her head lulled back in pleasure. I sighed, wishing to know the feeling, but quickly pushed the thought down. A flush of embarrassment crept across my chest, and I felt a dirty feeling in the pit of my stomach. 

No, I told myself. I was not like the ladies at LaPearl. One man was better than many.

A knock at the door startled me into movement, and I nearly choked on a breath. “Eleanora?” came Jamesina’s voice. “Are you awake, dear?” 

I cleared my throat. “Yes, I am just dressing,” I answered. 

“Very good. Mister Forbes has requested your presence in the gardens before breakfast.”

I felt excited, remembering the beckoning look he had given me. One man was better than many. But no, it was not for further alone time; now, it was back to being a proper courting couple, complete with all manners. 

Quickly, I pulled on a pine green travel gown, washed my face, ran a brush through my hair, pinned it up, and slipped a pair of worn, black shoes onto my feet.

I opened the door to find Jamesina waiting in a gown reminiscent of mahogany. “It’ll do,” she said, looking me over with a nod. 

She gestured for me to follow her. The middle servant, Ronald, led us down the stairs, through the entryway, and out the kitchen's back door. My husband-to-be was waiting for me at the bottom of a set of stone stairs. Jamesina paused at the door with Ronald and watched us.

Roderick smiled and offered me his arm. “I thought you might like a tour around the garden before breakfast,” he said. 

“I would,” I answered with a bobbed curtsey. 

I took his arm, suddenly aware of where his arm and hands had been a few hours before and where I wanted them to be again. I hoped I was not blushing. 

I forced myself to focus on the morning light. The air smelled clean and crisp from the rain, the grass sparkled with droplets, and the bedewed flowers looked like the jewels Mister Forbes had presented me during the dinner party. I stopped to admire the tulips, the scent of which was rich from their garden patch. Roderick stooped to pick a red one and offered it to me. 

“In thanks for last night,” he whispered with a wink. 

I felt the apples of my cheeks turn a bright red. “Thank you,” I said, taking the blossom. 

He hummed and let his thumb stroke my chin for a few seconds. “I hope after you thought about it last night, you do not think I crossed a line,” he said quietly. 

“No,” I answered quickly, then fully blushed at his amused smile. “I mean, uh, no, it did not cross a line. Did I?”

Roderick smiled and let his fingers tuck a few loose strands of hair behind my ear. “Absolutely not,” he answered. He let his hand drop and gently pulled me along as we continued our walk. 

The walk was short. At a fork in the cobbled path, Roderick led me to the left, and we approached the back door from the north. We walked in a peaceful silence, which I found I did not need to try to break. 

“What do you think of the gardens, leannan?” Roderick asked as we approached the back door, where Jamesina stood alone, pretending she was not watching or listening for us as we approached.

“They’re beautiful,” I said with absolute truth, looking over the small area we had walked. But I knew there was a good deal more to it, as I had seen from above. Beyond the small yard we had walked was a fountain streaming with water, and we had not gone near the vegetable patches. “Your home is almost as big as a farm,” I said.

“Soon to be our home,” he corrected gently. 

I flushed. “Yes, I apologize.”

Roderick hummed and let his hand stray to cover mine. As his thumb caressed my hand, I could sense he forgave the mistake easily. “It was a gift from my parents. This one, Deer Run, as I call it, is one of their many hunting investments, one that I allow few to use without being trespassed. My brother and sister each have their own properties, also gifted by my parents. Though theirs are much further away. In fact, my sister lives near Charles Town.”

“Really?” I said, surprised. 

“Aye, about forty minutes to the north on another hunting property.” He paused and turned, pointing towards the north where Charles Town lay. 

“And where do your parents live?” I asked, looking up at him. 

Roderick dropped his gesturing arm and placed it behind his back. His parents were perhaps a sore subject. “They live twenty minutes outside Wilton, though not on a game property.” I nodded. “You will meet them at the wedding, I’m sure.”

“Are your siblings older than you?”

“My brother is older by three, and my sister is younger by five years.”

Before continuing the conversation, Reuel came out of the back door and announced, “Breakfast is served, Master Forbes.”

I turned to see the young man standing next to Jamesina, admiring the architecture of a stone pot. Ruel's dark eyes met mine, and I quickly looked away.

“Ah, very good, thank you, Ruel,” was the answer. “Please see to the carriage after you’ve eaten.”

“Aye, sir,”

Roderick escorted me through the house and back into the dining room, lit by natural light shining through the large windows. All the curtains were thrown back, and the candles on the table were unlit. Jamesina followed us at an appropriate distance, and the footsteps on the stairs told me my family was slowly joining us. 

Roderick stood at the head of the table and pulled the same chair I had used last night out. He guided me into it by hand, a twinkle in his eye as I sat down. I thanked him as he stood next to me, awaiting the arrival of the rest of my family. They took their seats as they had been the previous evening, and with the morning pleasantries out of the way, Ronald and John served breakfast. It was a hearty meal with eggs, ham, sausage, and plenty of tea or coffee. 

I watched Roderick add a healthy amount of cream and a spoonful of honey to his tea. He, in turn, watched as I took a cup of black coffee, generously cooled. 

Our eyes met as I took a sip, his mouth curled into a slight smirk around his cup. However, I noticed Jamesina’s look of disapproval. Coffee was not a lady’s drink, but there was no going back now. I was at least comforted by Nadine taking her morning coffee as well (if she added milk and sugar). 

Breakfast was spent with light small talk, and I felt that something had perhaps transpired last night between my father and Roderick, for my father would not speak, not even when addressed by Jamesina. 

I swallowed hard. This was not a good sign. I glanced at Roderick to find him going on in good humor, telling a story of Scotland from when he was a boy that I barely listened to. It was clear to me that while this was what my father wanted, me married off, he disapproved of the man. Perhaps Mister Rigsby would have suited him better as a son-in-law despite being wealthier and old enough to be my grandfather.

When breakfast was eaten and our luggage loaded into the borrowed carriage, we stood in the cool morning air in the front yard. Roderick gently touched my shoulder blades as he and Jamesina spoke. 

“Uilliam ought to be here any moment,” Jamesina commented as my family began to load themselves into the carriage. 

“Aye, and I thank you for chaperoning, Jamesina,” Mister Forbes said with a slight incline of his head. I smiled a bit, thinking that though Mister Forbes worked as her lawyer, there was something candid and friendly in how they spoke.

“It was no trouble, Roderick,” she answered. “I am delighted that Wheatrest will be the backdrop for your wedding.”

I felt my stomach calm. Whatever had passed between my father and Roderick had not dissuaded him from our betrothal. The more I thought about it, the more I felt he would be miles above any other alternative. 

“And Miss Eleanora,” he said, turning to me. “I thank you for your company.” He took my hand and bowed, kissing the back of my fingers. He led me towards the carriage as Uilliam pulled up in Jamesina’s oak chaise. “I shall see you in a week for your fitting.”

“I look forward to it,” I answered with a smile as he guided me up the chaise stairs. 

Roderick returned the smile and helped me into the carriage. “Until then, leannan.”

He waved us off as Reuel jerked the carriage into motion. Behind us, Jamesina’s own carriage took off in the opposite direction.

We rode in silence for twelve hours, and the quiet was deafening. I spent most of the ride wringing my hands in my lap, occasionally glancing at my father. He refused to look at anyone in the carriage, and we were all aware of the growing storm clouds over his head. About halfway through the ride, Nadine linked arms with me in nervousness.

We stopped for the night in the little village of Coltson, a town of a few farms and houses. The village didn’t even have a stable, but they did have an inn. The Bumbling Bee, the sign said with a picture of a fat bee painted beneath the sign. 

Reuel stopped the carriage, and I watched him approach through the window. Opening the door, he offered his hand to me. I let go of Nadine and took his it; I was then followed by my brother, who helped his wife down the steps of the chaise. My mother joined us next, and my father begrudgingly got out last. He was not looking at any of us; a scowl permanently marked his bearded face.

Reuel inclined his head to me and offered me his hand again. I hesitated, looking between his hand and his face. 

“Master Forbes asked that I look after you as I would when you are wedded to him,” he explained, his eyes meeting mine. 

I knew my father was grinding his teeth and spitting onto the cobblestones. I swallowed hard and took his hand. He held our hands between our shoulders and escorted me inside. 

The inside of the Bumbling Bee was busy with the coming of night. It smelled of smoked tobacco, baked bread, and roasted meats. I felt my stomach growl at the implication of supper.

Reuel walked me straight up to the counter where the owner stood, wiping a mug dry. The man was tall and broad, built with a lot of muscle. His hair and beard were blond, and he had stern grey eyes. He inclined his head as we approached, almost as if he was expecting us. 

“The Kirbys,” Reuel said, “Courtesy of Master Roderick Forbes.” Reuel pulled an envelope from his breast pocket and handed it to the innkeeper. The man put down his cup and opened the letter. 

“Ah, Master Forbes’s betrothed,” he said in a booming, Scottish brogue. “Right this way.”

The man led us down a hall behind the podium and up a set of stairs. We paused outside of a locked door. He fished a key from his apron and unlocked it, swinging the door on well-oiled hinges. Inside was a vast bed between two large windows, the grey curtains drawn closed. A wardrobe stood to one side, and a furniture set sat around a lit hearth. 

“This is for Mistress Eleanora,” the man announced, looking at me. He beckoned me to step inside as he passed me the key. 

“Oh, this is too big just for me,” I murmured, clasping my hands nervously.

“Master Forbes asked that you be given his suite for the evening,” Reuel explained. 

“Suite?” I questioned. 

Reuel merely nodded. “I will be across the hall if you need anything, Miss Kirby. I will bring up your luggage within ten minutes.”

I nodded, a blank look on my face, as the innkeeper closed the door. As he led my family away, I caught the sour look on my father’s face. Once the lock clicked, I toyed with the key and looked around the room nervously.

For an inn, this room was huge. It was at least forty steps from the bed to the hearth and another twenty to the door. The room was twice as wide as it was long and had to be the largest room in the inn. And it was Roderick’s? And he has it on reserve?

I walked to the bed and dropped onto it, bouncing slightly on the feathered mattress. I reached out and felt the bedspread, marveling at the quilt on top embroidered with purple thistles and forest green leaves. I tucked a loose curl behind my ear. Beneath the closed window was a washstand with soaps and a bucket of steaming water. 

A table sat behind me against the other window, a water pitcher and a cup waiting upon it. Only two chairs stood near the table. I looked over the bed again. It was huge, and I thought sleeping in it would be rather lonely. I ran my hand over the embroidered quilt, admiring the handiwork, but I was beginning to wonder about all the thistles again. There were too many to simply show his Scottish pride.

A knock on the door startled me, and I stood to hurry to it. Reuel stood on the other side, the luggage bags slung over his shoulders and the trunk in his arms.

“I brought the entire thing, Miss Kirby, in case the inn was searched,” he said, entering and setting the trunk on the floor next to the bed. 

“Searched?” I questioned, feeling panic rising in my chest.

“Don’t worry, miss,” he said, turning to me. “British patrols are stricter here in the country; they must be due to deserters and cowboys. They will search trunks, carriages, and the like if they find them unclaimed.”

I placed a hand against my chest, willing my heart to slow its pounding. I swallowed. “C-cowboys?” I questioned.

“Aye, those deserters steal the cattle and other livestock. They will take whatever they can get.” Reuel emphasized this last sentence, and I shuddered in fear.

Reuel walked towards me and put a hand on my arm. “You have nothing to fear, lady. I gave Master Forbes my word that I would keep you safe on the journey, and the owner, Angus, will keep the thieves at bay. He has more than once.” He removed his hand quickly as if burned and took quick steps until he crossed the threshold and turned once he stepped into the hall. “I will see you and your family in the great room for supper. It is just behind the staircase on the first floor.” Reuel nodded back the way we had come. 

He gave me a small smile as he reached for the doorknob, our hands brushing as I let him close the door. “Remember, if you want for anything, I am across the hall.”

“Thank you,” I said before the door closed. 

Reuel smiled, and the door latched with a soft click.

Several groups were scattered around in the great room, all engaged in their own conversations. My eyes darted around the room, taking in the faces of people I didn’t know. Most were men from the surrounding farms having a drink to end their long day, though a few people with travel-stained gear were sitting near the beer kegs.

One of these men caught my eye for no reason other than his agitated movements. He kept crossing and re-crossing his arms and rocked slightly in his seat. He was thin, dressed like a traveling gentleman, and could not be much older than myself. As his eyes darted to me, I saw that they were a startling blue; he blinked at me a few times, then he lifted the mug in front of him, and as if in cheers to me, he took a deep swig, his eyes returning to darting around the room erratically.

My line of sight was broken to the man as Reuel sat across from me; a smile of greeting flashed across his face. “You’ll see all sorts of characters like that when you travel,” he commented, jerking a thumb towards the twitching man.

I nodded and glanced down the table as the innkeeper approached my father. “Tonight, we are serving ham and bean soup with corn pone and a raspberry tart. Does it interest anyone here?” 

“Master Forbes has paid for the meals in advance,” Reuel told the table. 

“Aye, a good man he is,” the innkeeper agreed. 

At the far end of the table, my father scowled. “We don’t need his charity.” 

“Mister Kirby,” Reuel began, “my master is funding this trip for his betrothed and those who travel with her. It is not charity, and it certainly is not appointed to you to judge how he spends his money.”

“But she is still under my guardianship until the wedding date—if it is kept,” my father sent me a nasty glare. I looked down at the table, studying it hard. “We will not be needing the food. Bring me an ale, though.”

“Master Forbes has not paid for any spirits,” Reuel stated. 

“Then I will pay for it myself,” my father snapped.

Reuel turned his dark eyes towards the innkeeper. “Bring bowls for me, Miss Kirby, and the young Mrs. Kirby; she is with child. Whether the others eat is of no concern to me or Master Forbes.”

The innkeeper’s eyes met Ruel’s, who nodded. “Aye.”

My stomach turned as the innkeeper walked away, and I wondered how much I could eat. I wrung my sweating hands in my lap and studied the table hard, willing the sting of tears away. While I appreciated that Reuel was only doing right by Roderick, he had no idea what he had just done. Whatever awaited me at the bakery would be that much worse. 

The table was thick with tension, and I risked a glance around it. My brother glared at Reuel while my father placed a pinch of snuff into his cheek. “I can bloody well look after Nadine myself,” Adam snapped, getting to his feet. 

I sighed. More of a scene was to be made, and I surreptitiously wiped my eyes. Adam pulled back his emptied chair and gripped the back of Nadine’s, and in a quick move and loud scuffing, he shoved her chair to where he had been with her in it. Nadine gasped and held her stomach at the movement, her blond hair coming loose from its bonds. Some of the tables around us stopped their conversations to watch us.

I covered my mouth in shock as Adam took his empty seat and sat beside Ruel. “I don’t know what breed of servant Forbes employs, but I will not be made to look like an incompetent husband by whatever you are.”

Reuel held his chin up. “My family hails from the British East Indies. And if you do not wish to allow yourself to look so lowly, then do not allow your father to starve your wife and unborn child, and certainly refrain from your cursing and raucous behavior in public.”

“My—what?”

“Just sit quietly, young Mister Kirby,” Reuel sighed. 

I looked across the table at our escort with a grimace. He met my eye, and I shook my head. “Please stop,” I mouthed toward him.

Reuel eyed me briefly before giving a slight nod, but the look in his eyes told me that Roderick would hear about this. Feeling sicker still, I wrapped my arms around myself and held onto the sides of my dress tightly. 

As we waited for the innkeeper to bring the three suppers—and ale—that had been ordered, silence fell in the parlor, one deeper than what had been moments ago. I looked towards the doorway, where two English Dragoons stood in their red coats. I clenched my fists and looked at Ruel. “Just keep your head down and let them do what they came in to do,” he whispered, holding his head down just the same. 

“Good afternoon, all,” said the taller one loudly. “We are looking for a thief, a pickpocket who has been harassing the countryside.”

“We will be around each table to ask you individually,” said the second one, eyeing the room. His eyes fell on our table, and I suddenly realized we were the only table with women. Reuel seemed to notice it, too.

“Head down and only speak when spoken to,” he hissed as a general to the table. 

As they approached the table, the soldiers' footsteps were loud in my ears. Adam looped an arm around Nadine’s shoulders as she leaned back into him in fright. 

“Seen this man around, ma’am?” the soldier asked my mother, flashing the parchment between her and my father. She shook her head ‘no’. “Sir?”

“We just got in ourselves; we haven’t seen anyone or anything not in the tavern,” my father grunted politely. Even my father wouldn’t take on a Dragoon.

The soldier nodded and approached my brother and Nadine. “What about you, lovely? Seen him?”

Adam tightened his arm around her shoulders as she shook her head. “Like my father said, sir, we just got in,” Adam said, glancing over the picture. 

I felt the soldier’s eyes on me. Reuel was ignored as the man approached. For all eyes to see, I did not have a man close enough to claim me as a taken woman, and I doubted my father cared enough to defend me.

“And you, little mouse?” he asked, setting the parchment before me. 

The second Dragoon circled me and leaned against the empty chair to my left.

I studied the picture, aware of the man, reaching a hand toward my cheek. I leaned slightly away as his knuckles brushed the side of my face. The man in the drawing was as plain as any other I had ever seen and could have been anyone in the town. The drawing depicted him with a round head and light-colored hair. I shook my head. 

“I haven’t seen anyone,” I said, barely above a whisper. 

“You sure, little mouse?” he asked. 

I nodded. “Yes, I am sure.”

“There’s a large reward for him, little mouse,” the second said. “Anyone would want it.”

My eyes flicked to Reul, feeling suddenly that these were the men harassing the countryside. Reul’s dark eyes met mine, and he gave a slight nod.

“Don’t look at him,” said the first. The Dragoon cupped my chin and roughly turned my head so I was forced to look up into his cruel, grey eyes. “Look at me.”

I was dimly aware of Reuel standing. “This is the betrothed of the deed owner of this tavern, sirs,” he said. “I suggest you remove your hands from her.”

The one holding my chin scowled but let go regardless. “Is that true, little mouse?” said the second man, leaning over the chair further. “Are you engaged?” I could feel my heartbeat in my ears as I nodded. “Let's see the ring, then.”

Before I could do as I was told, the man reached into my lap and grabbed my hand, forcing it onto the table. He whistled as the ruby caught the light of the candles in the iron chandelier. “Look at that.”

“Such an expensive thing for a poor little mouse. What’s your rich husband’s name then?” said the first.

I glanced at Reuel again. “Don’t look at him,” the man repeated. “What’s your betrothed’s name?”

“R-Roderick Forbes,” I managed.

“Colonel Hawthorn, Mister Remington,” came the polite brogue of the innkeeper. “Your rooms are ready.”

“This little mouse says she is betrothed of the landowner, Angus. Is she lying?”

“You know what is done to liars out here, little mouse?” asked the second Dragoon.

“She is soon to be the wife of the deed owner and my top investor,” Angus responded as he stepped up to our table with the food and ale.

The first man grunted as he took the parchment from the table, and the second man flicked my ear. “Congratulations and felicitations, little mouse.”

I breathed a sigh of relief as the two men moved to another table. I glanced between Reuel and my family. Reuel watched me in concern as my family either watched the men retreat or avoided my eye in my father’s case.

I felt a lump of fear and dejection moving into my throat, and I felt a particular chill along my shoulders and arms that was not from a draft. I swallowed hard and blinked back, threatening tears.

“Do you wish to retire, Miss Kirby?” Reuel asked though he had barely finished speaking when I nodded and got to my feet.

I walked as quickly as I dared from the great room, aware of Reuel’s following footsteps. I fumbled for the key to my room in my pocket and, in shaking hands, dropped it with a clatter onto the floor. Reuel stayed me as he came up and retrieved the key, unlocking the door for me.

“Were…were they…?” I began as he opened the door and handed me the key.

“No. They are just Dragoons. The British Army won a battle near here many months ago and are very cruel to the people they ‘watch over.’”

“Will they…uhm…”

“I will stay outside your door tonight, miss. Don’t fret. Master Forbes will certainly hear about this, and something will be done about those men.”

I wrapped my arms around myself. “That’s…I’ve never had something like that happen to me before.”

“Aye,” Reuel said, reaching out a hand, then quickly pulling away. “Go inside, now. I will knock four times when Angus arrives with your supper.”

“I don’t know if I could eat.”

“Please try, miss. For me and Master Forbes.”

Hearing footsteps in the adjacent hall, I looked around fearfully, wondering if the Dragoons had followed. Reuel ushered me into the room. “Rest now, miss,” he said as I stepped inside. The man closed the door behind me as he took up his post at my door.

I locked the door before I threw myself onto the thistle quilt and allowed myself a few moments of crying my fears away before I curled in on myself. My mind wandered about what Reuel and Angus had said. Roderick owned the land and was the top investor of the Bumbling Bee? Just how rich was he?

The half-day carriage ride ended with a gusty wind shaking the chaise and Reuelcautiously opening the door against another offending gust. He offered his hand to me, and I eagerly took it, wishing to escape the confines of the thin walls and the tension that had nearly suffocated me. My father had not spoken in my presence since we had gotten up from supper the previous evening, and I wondered when his inevitable explosion would strike. 

I looked about as I stepped into the wind, wishing I was happy to see the old bakery again. Cousins of the butcher next door had kept the bakery running for the near week my family had been gone, and it was not very busy for a luncheon hour. That would surely add to my father’s anger. 

Reuel guided me towards the front of the carriage and gave a slight bow. “Master Forbes will hear of the debacle last evening, but the fault will fall on me, so do not worry, Miss Kirby,” he said. “He will not forgo the engagement because of your family; trust me to know my master’s mind better than that: he is quite smitten with you. Not to mention,” he said louder as my father exited the carriage. “He has already paid a nice sum for your dowry, and the contract has been signed. You will see him in two weeks.”

I nodded and glanced toward my family. My father spat on the ground and walked off down the street, heading to his favorite haunt and the oldest tavern in Charles Town: the Hog’s Head. As my father left, Reuel approached the carriage again, and my brother fished the luggage from the rack below the cabin. 

“I will take Miss Kirby’s suitcase,” he said, stepping between Adam and the chaise. He lifted the tattered, brown case with ease and turned towards me.

“Thank you, Reuel, but I can take it to my room,” I said, stepping forward and offering my hand for the case. 

“Now, Miss—” he began. 

“Please, I am not used to all of this yet,” I interrupted. “And I am home for the time being, I would like to—” 

I wasn’t sure what I wanted other than to keep Reuel from going upstairs. He did not need to see the leather straps hanging on the walls as a reminder to behave or the marks on the walls from my father’s anger. 

Reuel nodded as if he suspected as much. “I will allow it,” he said, his eyes meeting mine. “But next time, you will be considered officially married to Master Forbes. I will have to follow propriety.”

“I understand,” I replied as he handed me the suitcase hesitantly. 

I gave him a grateful smile as he approached the now-emptied carriage. “I will see you in a week, Miss Kirby.” He nodded to me as he climbed into the driver’s seat and jerked the carriage into motion. 

I swallowed hard and turned towards the door of the bakery. My mother stood at the window with her arms crossed as she stared at me. Though she was a woman of few words, I knew that look; she had been just as insulted as my father had. I gripped my suitcase and took a deep breath, entering the bakery. 

There was silence inside as I made a direct path for the stairs. The smell of baking pastries turned my stomach as I climbed our rickety staircase. I passed new markings on the wall, and I wondered momentarily if they had appeared when my father found out Mister Forbes was funding the trip into Wilton. At the far end of the hallway, I entered my room, looking much the same as I had left it, save for the lingering layer of dust that told me no one had been here since I had gone. I put my trunk on the bed and began to unpack in the thick silence that had entered the bakery and followed me up the stairs. 

When I finished hanging up the dresses I had been allowed to return home with and placing them in the press, I turned back to the bed to see to the trunk, only to be blocked by my mother. She had a dowdy shawl on now, but I could see the bruises and fingerprints my father had left on her through the fabric. 

“Mum?” I questioned in a quiet voice. 

“Do you have any idea what that—that servant has done to your father’s mood?” she hissed.

I took a deep breath and nodded. “I do—I did not think—”

“Oh, don’t give me that shite, Eleanora,” she spat, stepping towards me. We stood roughly the same height and had the same black, curling hair, though I stood a little taller than her and raised my chin. “And that Mister Forbes, a bloody Scot! And a lawyer to boot! Adam told me you could’ve had an English suitor. Do you thrive on making a fool out of your father?”

“That Englishman is nearly twice Roderick's age and thrice as wealthy. Father wouldn’t have wanted that either.”

“He wants you to know your place, and as I hear it that Englishman would have had you there quickly.”

“Father is the one who wanted me out of the house, and the decision between the men was mine to make.”

“And I wonder how you got the attention of a bloody Scotsman.”

“What?”

“Did you spread your legs for him? Is that why he paid such a large sum for you?”

“Mum,” I gasped, tears pricking my eyes, and that unclean feeling spread through me again. However, the question of how much the dowry was had been struck. How badly did Roderick want me?

“Bought you a bottle of scented water the other day,” she continued. “Did you get on your knees for that too?”

“You don’t know a bloody thing!” I snapped. 

My mother may have been frail but quickly drew back her hand. I gasped as her palm contacted my cheek, leaving a stinging feeling behind. “Spoiled Scotsman’s whore,” she hissed. “Calling him by his first name now too?”

My mother raised her hand again and slapped my other cheek hard enough that my head was thrown backward, and I was forced to back away. “It's proper etiquette,” I replied, holding a hand to my face. “That is what Missus Fernsby taught me.”

“Oh, blast your goddamn etiquette! You have no idea what it has been like here since the letter of your engagement,” she sneered. 

“I can see it well enough,” I muttered. “The marks outside your room are new.”

“Bitch.” Another slap. “We will see how long this marriage lasts once he gets bored of you. I imagine there is a brothel for him to sell you to in Wilton.”

“Sod off, mother.”

“Wait until your father gets home,” she hissed, storming from the room. “Dirty little puzzle.” Slamming the door after herself, I heard the key in the lock click, and I knew I would be spending hours alone up here until my father returned, angry and likely drunk. “We should have just let those Dragoons have you.”

Holding my cheek, I sank onto the bed, willing the tears of pain to disappear. I wondered if I could send a letter to Mister Forbes before he arrived, perhaps asking him to move the wedding to a closer date.

Chapter Text

7. The White Dress

I winced as Lottie placed a cool rag over my exposed back, stifling a hiss of pain. I gripped the open sides of my bodice, closing my eyes against the pricking tears. “Your father really did a number on your back, Ellie,” she sighed. 

“He used the side with the buckle,” I said in a strained voice. 

“Are your ribs any better?” Ambrosius asked from his place by the fire. In his hands, he crushed arnica petals with a mortar and pestle. The pine-sage smell of the bruised plant permeated the second bedroom of their small cottage. I heard him stand and pour boiling water into the mixture.

“I can breathe easier if that’s what you mean,” I replied.

“While that is good to hear, that is not what I meant,” he said. 

“What will that Mister Forbes say when he finds out?” Charlotte asked, moving the rag to another sensitive spot. I grunted in pain.

“I hope he doesn’t find out,” I said. "He is my only chance of escaping my father short of running off into the wild.”

“Which you won’t be doing if I have anything to say about it,” Ambrosius said, crossing the room. “Your mother was so close to letting you stay with Lottie’s parents.”

“If this engagement falls through, I don’t think she will allow it anymore. She was so infuriated that he was Scottish that she also struck me.”

I heard Charlotte sigh. “Can we get permission for you to stay with us?” she asked. 

“That would certainly ruin the engagement,” Ambrosius commented, turning to me. “Do you want to break it off?” 

I thought for a long moment. Roderick’s boyish grin flashed in my mind, his pale green eyes looking kindly at me as he handed me my parfum. I recalled the thickness of his arms, the broadness of his shoulders, the hardness of his chest. I could feel his lips against mine, on my neck, his breath in my ear as he whispered my name, and his featherlight fingertips dancing along the neckline of my dress. 

“No,” I answered truthfully. “No, I don’t want to.”

“Then I fear there is nothing for it,” he sighed. “You will have to endure your parents until the wedding.”

I sighed. “I just hope these weeks will go quickly.”

“Here, Lottie,” Ambrosius said, walking towards us. He handed Lottie the mixture and exited the room. “Let me know if you need anything else, ladies.” The bedroom door clicked closed.

Lottie stood and gingerly helped me remove my arms from the sleeves of my dress and shift. I slowly sat up straighter, wrapping an arm around my exposed breasts, and she looked my ribcage over. Her cool hands gently pressed against the bruising along my abdomen. 

“Your back is worse,” she commented. “It might take longer for the bruises there to disappear.” I grunted as I relaxed a bit. “Your ribs are fine, but there are a few cuts along your back from the buckle.”

I nodded. “Do you think they will be gone before the wedding?” I asked. 

“Hard to say,” she answered, sitting behind me again. “I would say fairly close as long as your father doesn’t beat you again.”

I winced, listening to Lottie dampen a cloth and wring out the arnica mixture. “No hope of that, especially if Roderick is coming out here. My father hates him.”

“Simply because he is Scottish?”   

“Because he is rich too. He’s bought me a new dress, shoes, bottle of parfum, and a white wedding dress.”

“White?” Lottie gasped. Her dress had been a cobalt blue that played wonderfully against her golden hair. 

“Indeed. This is the proposal ring,” I said, holding up my left hand to display the ruby.

“Good lord,” came the mutter as she looked over the ring. “How much does he make being a lawyer?” she asked, applying the cloth to the bruises on my stiff shoulder blades. 

“4500 a year,” I answered. 

“My God,” she gasped. 

“He comes from money, too. He lives on a hunting property, and his house is enormous.”

“Soon to be yours, too,” she teased. 

I scoffed. “That’s not what I care about.”

“I know, Ellie… what is he like?”

“Scottish.”

“Ellie.”

“I have heard that he is vain and proud, and he showed as much with the flaunting of his money and of, well, me. Though he has been very kind to me, he is at least twenty years older than me.”

Lottie sighed. “That much?”

“He was the younger of the two.”

“Two?”

“Mister Rigsby is pushing into his late seventies, and he owns the largest plantation in the county. He’s a bloody bastard, and I would be trading one man beating me for another.” 

“You must have impressed at the dinner,” Lottie said after a moment. 

“It was the third, so I don’t know about that.”

We fell silent as Lottie worked, soothing the bruises. I glanced at the door when I felt her begin to apply the healing salve. “Where is Ambrosius?” I asked in a whisper.

“Likely in the kitchen, watching the soup. Did you need something?” Lottie asked, stopping short in her ministrations. 

The kitchen was on the far side of the cottage from the bedroom. “I just had some questions I would be more comfortable asking you,” I answered. 

“Well, ask away before your mother comes to collect you,” she urged.

“Please keep this between us, Lottie,” I said as she helped me slide my arms back into my sleeves and button the back of the dress. 

“Of course.”

“What kinds of things did you and Ambrosius do before marriage?”

“What kinds of things?” she said with a little laugh. 

“Intimate things,” I clarified. 

“Are you looking to do for Mister Forbes when he comes by?”

“I have yet to decide that... it’s just he has initiated some things—things I quite liked— and well...”

“Ah. And you want to see if either of you have stepped over propriety?”

That wasn’t exactly what I was asking, but I wasn’t sure what I was asking, so for simplicity’s sake, I nodded. “Yes.”

“What is your first question?”

I felt myself flush as Lottie sat next to me on the ottoman. “Well…er…how much of each other did you two see before marriage?”

Lottie herself began to color. “Well…he saw from my waist up, and I saw from his waist down.”

I felt my blush creep down my neck and into my chest. My mouth ran dry. “I see. Was that—was that everything? Just looking?”

“Heavens no, Ellie,” she said with amusement. “There was touching.”

“Touching?” I whispered. I wondered just how red I was becoming.

“Amby was always the gentleman about such things—still is. But I have to say it is not what the Lord intended, so we both went to confession—out of town, that is.”

I nodded. My hands unconsciously drifted to the neckline of my dress. “The things Mister Forbes has initiated…were you comfortable doing them? He didn’t coerce you?”

“I was comfortable after the initial shock of it all,” I said. “Everything had been so new to me, but he has not made me do anything I was uncomfortable with, and he said he wouldn’t.”

“Well, that is something,” Lottie linked her hand with mine. “I think he will be good to you. Better than your family has been.”

“It’s just a shame that I would live so far away.” I felt the makings of a lump in my throat and quickly pushed it down. 

“We can write. And surely, he would allow visits when possible.”

The corners of my mouth quirked upwards. “I hope so.”

A knock on the door startled both of us. “Ellie?” Ambrosius said through the door. “Your mother has returned.”

Lottie and I exchanged looks. “Here,” she said, hurrying to a table behind us. I watched as she dampened a cloth from the pitcher of cool drinking water. “You are as red as a beet.” Quickly, she placed the cloth against my flushed skin. 

The week until Roderick arrived was quiet, at least on my end. No one spoke to me, and I talked to no one. Adam kept Nadine out of the bakery, and I was banished to the kitchen, forbidden to speak to the customers. Thus, my limp and stiffness were hidden from any eyes of no relation. The day of Roderick’s arrival, I found myself stuck in my room, my mother having forbidden me to come down until his arrival. Those were the first words anyone had spoken to me in the past week.

However, between my duties, I had saved some leftover ingredients that would have gone to scrap. With enough sugar, flour, egg, a trip to the woods, and the few pennies I had found in my dresser, I finished my ingredient list and baked a small, personal-sized loaf of blueberry bread when my father hadn’t been looking last night. 

I placed it in a basket and wrapped it in a clean handkerchief with my initials embroidered in the corner. It wasn’t much, but it was the best I could do to thank Roderick for everything.

This morning, I had dressed in my best gown, a solid blue, moth-eaten at the bottom, and pulled my hair back with a tarnished and unadorned pin. I looked as good as I could under the circumstances, for I could not tie the corsets from Jamesina alone, and there were none to help me. Charlotte and Ambrosius would be along soon after his anticipated arrival to see the gown. Lottie was to pin any adjustments as my mother did not know how, and, as I had been informed, Nadine had refused. I wasn’t sure who had refused: Nadine, Adam, or my father. 

I watched eagerly in the sunlit morning for any sign of the thistle-covered carriage to arrive, and it was a long wait. But at nearly a quarter past ten, the familiar chaise rode up, Reuel in the driver's seat. What surprised me was that Roderick sat beside him and dressed in simple clothes. White trousers, a brown waistcoat, and a brown jacket. I wouldn’t have recognized him if our eyes hadn’t met as he looked over the outside of the bakery. He flashed a smile before he turned to the carriage and stepped inside. 

I could only guess he was retrieving the wedding dress. The stomps on the stairs told me I was not the only one to have seen him arrive. And judging by the weight and the scuffing of the shoes, my father was the one who approached. I took up my small basket with the blueberry bread in it and waited patiently for the door to unlock and for my father to wave me out of the room without so much as a glance toward me. I walked as calmly as I could down the hallway and stairs. A building excitement was in my stomach, for this past the halfway point to the wedding. In little more than a week, I would be out from under my father’s thumb.

Of course, I had noticed the lack of attempt to dress for Roderick. My father wore the same tattered trousers and shirt he always did when he was baking, and I expected no less from the rest of my family. 

In the bakery showroom stood Roderick Forbes and his footman, Ruel. Reuel held a long box and waited patiently near a baked goods case. Both men met my eyes immediately, and I received two different smiles. Roderick’s was warm and inviting, while Reuel’s was calm and obedient, and I felt a shock running through me that this man would soon become my servant as well. 

“Good morning, Roderick,” I said, curtseying as he held his hand to me. 

Taking his hand, he kissed the back of my fingers. “Good morning, Eleanora. You look as beautiful as a butterfly in your blue gown.”

I felt myself color. No doubt he had seen the moth-eaten and worn bottom. It was a far cry from the extravagance of the gowns Jamesina had tailored to me or the ones he had bought himself, and I had left those in my cousin’s care, worried about what might happen if they came to the bakery. 

I straightened up. “And you look lovely, as well,” I replied. 

“Ah, just traveling clothes, m’eudail,” he responded with a wave of his hand. 

I handed him the small basket. “I made this for you,” I said. 

With a smile and a quirk of his eyebrow, he took the basket from me and looked inside. His smile grew. “Blueberry bread?” he asked. 

I nodded and placed my hands behind my back in nervousness. “I wanted to make you something for bringing the dress out here yourself.”

Roderick smiled and cupped my face for a fleeting moment. “You are the picture of thoughtfulness; thank you, Eleanora.”

“You’re welcome,” I managed, disappointed that his touch had lasted only a second. 

Roderick turned to the rest of my family. “And good morning to you all.”

“Good morning,” my father replied gruffly. His eyes flicked to me, a shadow of a scowl on his face. He knew what I had done and wondered where I found the money to buy the blueberries. However, I had picked them a few nights ago, having stepped out with Adam when he took his evening pipe. 

Nadine was absent, and my mother and brother wore equally worn-out clothes. My mother wore a long-sleeved gown to hide the bruises my father had left, though her brow was breaking out in sweat from the heat. 

Roderick turned his attention back to me, a stern look now in his eyes. “Reuel informed of what happened at the Bumbling Bee. Are you well? Were you hurt?”

I felt a fleeting pang of anxiety for that confrontation to be brought to the forefront of my memory. I had spent the past week forcing myself not to think of it. “I was terribly frightened but not hurt,” I answered. “Reuel looked after me quite well.”

Roderick cupped my chin. “I am sorry I was not there for you, leannan,” he replied quietly. “But I am happy that Reuel was there. I made a good decision sending him with you.”

I could not help but nod in agreement, remembering everything the man had said in my defense before and during the confrontation. “I wrote to the governor, Lord William Campbell. He’ll see something is done about those… men.”

I nodded and could not help but fist my hands into my skirts as the memories of the tavern threatened to surface.

I took a steadying breath and noticed Roderick’s eyes flick over my shoulder to where my father stood. His green eyes clouded with anger. Tension was building in the room as my father looked between Roderick and me. One of them would have to break the silence, and I worried it would be my father. But at the tinkling of the bell above the door, I exhaled. 

“Good morning,” came Lottie’s voice. “Sorry, we are late, Ellie.” 

“Lottie!” I breathed a sigh of relief and hurried to her. “You’re just in time,” I whispered as I embraced her.

Ambrosius shook my hand as I let go of his wife. “Morning, Miss Eleanora,” he greeted adequately. 

I returned the greeting as I heard Roderick step up beside me, holding his hand to Ambrosius. “Roderick Forbes,” he greeted. 

“Ambrosius Pembroke. This is my wife, Charlotte.”

Roderick turned to Lottie with a smile and bowed to her. “It is lovely to make your acquaintance, madam.”

Lottie quickly curtsied. “It is nice to finally meet you, Mister Forbes.”

He smiled at her manners and reached into his breast pocket. “As I suspected I would meet you both, I thought I would deliver your invitation in person.”

Roderick pulled a grand white envelope with beautiful calligraphy strokes reading the Pembrokes on the front. 

“Thank you, sir. We both look forward to attending your union with Eleanora,” Ambrosius said, taking the invitation. 

“I take it you are here to see the anticipated gown,” he said. 

Lottie nodded. “I am here to help mark any tailoring.” She held up her bag of sewing tools as evidence. 

“Well then,” he nodded to Ruel. “I shall not keep either of you waiting any longer.”

I nodded to them both and led the way to the stairs. Ambrosius, Lottie, and Reuel followed, but Roderick did not. He smiled as I turned to him. “Go on, leannan. It is bad luck for a man to see his wife’s wedding dress before the day. Besides, I would like to speak to your father about the wedding.”

Feeling the heat of their gazes on me, I nodded. “Adam, watch the front,” I heard my father say gruffly as my mother followed Reuel and me up the stairs. 

Reuel set the dress box on my bed in my room and bowed to me. “I will await further instruction in the hallway,” he said, exiting the room to stand by the door. 

“Let me know when it is safe to return,” Ambrosius said with a wave of his hand and followed Ruel, shutting the door behind himself. 

“Well, c’mon, Ellie, open the box,” Lottie said excitedly. 

I untied the large yellow bow and pulled off the blue lid. After removing several layers of tissue paper, the dress was revealed. It was just how I had remembered: the color of fresh cream with stark blue irises woven into the pattern.

“Oh, it's beautiful,” Lottie whispered. 

“White?” my mother whispered.

“It caught my eye, and Roderick insisted,” I replied as Lottie placed her sewing bag on the bed with an awed look. “It is only cotton, though.”

“Well, let’s see it on you then,” mother sighed, crossing her arms. 

Lottie gently lifted the gown out of the box and hurried us both around the broken dressing screen in the corner of my room. She helped me remove the blue dress, and before she helped me don the wedding gown, she looked down the back of my shift. 

“The bruises are fading nicely,” she whispered, barely above my hearing. “Do the welts still hurt? They are nearly gone.” I shook my head. “Then I think they will be gone by the wedding date.”

I grinned. “Good.”

Lottie helped me slide into the gown and cinched in the waist, tying the laces into a bow that drew the eye to the bosom. The sleeves cuffed at my wrists with lace feathering. 

Lottie grinned at me. “Beautiful,” she said.

“Is it?”

“I meant you.”

“It's too extravagant, isn’t it?”

“Ellie,” she sighed. “Come on, look in the mirror.” Linking arms, Lottie pulled me to the tarnished mirror near the door and patted my shoulders. “See?”

I shifted. I thought I looked very good in the gown; it suited my figure and brought out my eyes. “Let’s just...” Lottie said, turning me and pulling a few locks free in strategic places. “There.” The locks rested upon my shoulders and framed my face. Lottie turned me towards my mother. 

To my surprise, my mother’s eyes were reddened, and she stood with her hand covering her mouth. She sighed heavily and sniffled. “You look like a lawyer’s wife,” she said in a breaking voice. 

I looked myself over as she approached me, not feeling any different. Lottie backed away several paces. 

My mother took my face in either hand and drew it close to hers. “You marry this man and stay with him,” she whispered. She placed our foreheads together, and I felt my face scrunch into poorly withheld tears. “Don’t you come back here for anything. Once you get out from under your father, you stay away. You hear me?”

“Yes, mum,” I whispered, letting a few tears fall.

“Hush,” she whispered, embracing me. “I’m the one who is supposed to cry, so don’t you cry in this beautiful gown.”

With a kiss on my head, she let go of me and dried my tears with her work-worn hands. “Now, Lottie,” she said, “let’s get this pinned.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lottie nodded, retrieving the chair from my desk.

My mother opened the door to my room and beckoned Ambrosius and Reuel inside. As Ambrosius entered, I heard Reuel from the hallway say: “I am only here to do for Master Forbes, ma’am. I do not need to see the gown.”

My mother would have accepted the answer, but Ambrosius insisted, “If he won’t see the gown, you could at least report that the fitting went well.”

At the insistence, Reuel entered the room with his hands behind his back. “If it is alright with you, miss?” he asked, his dark eyes meeting mine. 

I nodded as Lottie placed the chair in front of me. “I am alright with it if you are,” I responded, for I did not know if this violated any propriety.

Accepting the invitation into the room, Reuel stood near the doorway. “You look wonderful, Ellie,” Ambrosius said with a grin. 

“She does, doesn’t she?” Lottie asked as I looked over myself, still unsure if I fit into the clothes as well as they said. I didn’t feel like a lawyer’s wife. 

There was silence in the room, and I felt, rather than saw everyone's gazes, turn to Reuel as if asking his opinion. I glanced over at him and found that his olive skin had a faint tint near his cheeks. 

“The picture of loveliness,” he said, though I felt there was more he wanted to say, but nothing was forthcoming.

“Well, c’mon, then,” my mother urged, waving me towards the chair. 

With a nod, I prepared to step onto the chair, but I heard footsteps approaching me quickly. “Miss Eleanora, if you must get on the chair, let me aid you. Master Forbes would not be pleased to know that you fell.”

Lottie and I exchanged glances, both barely able to withhold a smile. “I have done this plenty of times before.”

Reuel gave a self-deprecating smile. “I am sure, but I ask that you humor me and my propriety.”

I felt myself color as he spoke, somehow guessing my thoughts. “Very well,” I said.

Reuel offered his hand. I took it and lifted the gown's skirt as I stepped onto the chair, seeing everyone in the room from above. Reuel stepped to my side, his hand held at the ready if I needed to be steadied. I glanced at my mother, and the tenderness that had been there moments earlier changed to annoyance toward Ruel. His actions at the Bumbling Bee had been a cause for discontent amongst us, and that was part of why my father had whipped me so hard. And I wondered what she would tell him after Roderick left.

Once I was again dressed in my blue, moth-eaten gown, my mother led the way downstairs, the picture of discontent. This was a defense, I knew, but I wondered what would transpire once we were again alone as a family. 

In the bakery showroom, Roderick and my father sat at one of the tables designated for the more important customers, like Jamesina. My father’s glance toward me was annoyed, but there was something else in his eyes. I would have called it regret if I didn’t know my father. 

Roderick stood as we entered the room and smiled towards me. “How did it go, leannan?” he asked, approaching me. 

“Very well, just a shortening of the hem, Lottie says, to remain in fashion,” I answered. 

Roderick smiled at Lottie. “Excellent.”

“I could do the hemming, Mister Forbes, as a wedding gift for Eleanora,” she said, linking arms with me.

“What a kind gesture, but I am afraid I have already accepted my sister’s offer for the same thing,” he said, his face falling slightly. I felt the look was genuine. 

Lottie withheld her smile and nodded. “That is alright, Ambrosius, and I will find something a little more extravagant with the money saved on the thread.”

“Lottie,” I hissed, nudging her. “You don’t have to do that.”

“After all the baking you did for my wedding?” she replied with a quirked eyebrow. 

I sighed in defeat as she returned my nudge. “We best be going, Charlotte,” Ambrosius said, stepping forward. “We promised your father we would join him with seeing Master Erickson.”

“Is it that late already?” Lottie said. She did not wait for a reply but turned to me and pulled me into a hug. “See you later, Ellie.”

I returned the hug and sentiment, for I was sure I would be seeing her as soon as Roderick returned to Wilton. She ducked a curtsey to Roderick. “It was lovely to meet you, Mister Forbes.”

“The pleasure was mine, Missus Pembroke,” he replied with a slight bow. He shook Ambrosius’s hand goodbye as the two linked arms. 

Roderick turned to me with a smile as they left the bakery. “I have procured your father’s permission to borrow you for the day. Would you find that agreeable?” Surprised by his statement, I nodded. “We shall take your dress to my sister’s, as she would like to meet you before the wedding.”

I blinked. A forty-minute drive one way was a great deal of trouble for me. But Roderick looked keen to have his offering accepted, and I was curious about his family, none of whom I had met nor heard much about. 

“It sounds wonderful,” I answered.

Roderick grinned and nodded to Ruel, who left with the large dress box. “Then we shall depart within five minutes. I will meet you outside, leannan.” I watched as my husband-to-be and his servant left the bakery, the bells above the door tinkling.

My father stood from his chair and stepped before me. Rather than looking at me, he looked at the wall behind me. “Behave yourself,” was all he said before brushing past me. 

My mother placed a hand on my arm. “Don’t do anything to anger your father further,” she whispered. “But don’t upset Roderick either.”

Unsure of what was meant and who to please, I took a deep breath and walked out of the shop and into the heat of the June day. 

Chapter Text

8. Cedar Hall

Roderick smiled as I approached the carriage and offered me his hand. I found myself returning his smile easily and reaching for him. Reuel was already in the driver's seat and held the horses' reins, decidedly keeping his eyes forward.

"I am glad your father allowed you to come with me to see my sister," Roderick said as he helped me into the carriage. 

"I am happy you invited me," I responded. "It is nice to get out." In my room, I wanted to add.

Roderick smiled as he closed the door and sat gingerly beside me. The chaise jerked into motion. I noticed the dress box across from us, tucked safely above the opposite seat in the storage space behind; the basket of bread sat in the seat. Following my eyes, Roderick reached for the basket. "Would you mind sharing with me?" he asked. 

I felt myself color. "But it's yours," I said. 

He smiled gently. "I wish to share it with my bride-to-be," he answered. "As she was so kind as to make it for me."

I smiled and looked down at my hands. "Alright," I replied. 

Roderick fished a pocketknife from his jacket pocket and cut two slices out of the small loaf. Only half of the treat remained, and I felt a little guilty, but the emptiness of my stomach reminded me that I hadn't eaten since the night before. 

Handing me a slice, I waited for him to take the first bite before following his lead. The bread was still moist, and the berries were plump enough to burst into flavor as I chewed, but I may have been heavy-handed on the sugar. Next to me, Roderick sighed in pleasure.

"You are a wonder, Eleanora," he said, meeting my eyes. "The bread is still moist, and the berries are sweet."

I looked at my piece shyly. "I think I may have been heavy on the sugar."

"Don't be so modest, leannan. You have a talent." I smiled as we fell to eating in silence for a few moments.

“Please, Eleanora, be honest with me,” Roderick said as he took the last bite of his slice. “Are you truly alright after the confrontation at the tavern? Have you slept well? Have you had nightmares?”

Caught off guard by such a question, I swallowed hard. No one had ever asked me something like that before. “I—well, I suppose I am. I try my hardest not to think about it,” I answered, “and I haven’t had any nightmares. I’ve been kept busy in the kitchen.”

Roderick nodded. “I had half a mind stay in Charles Town and escort you back to Wilton myself. Missus Fernsby convinced me my sister’s large escort would be enough.”

“Escort?” I asked, looking up at him.

“Yes, she travels with at least six footmen, all very trustworthy. They must go through rigorous testing before Glenda will hire them.” I nodded as he sighed and straightened his jacket. “But… let’s think no more of the terrible ordeal at the tavern.” He smiled. “Go on and finish your treat, m’eudail.”

As I finished my slice of bread in the quiet of the carriage, I could feel Roderick’s eyes taking me in.

"You know," he said, breaking the quiet, "I have it on good authority that you looked wonderful in your gown."

I couldn't help but giggle at the compliment. "I don't know about that."

Roderick placed a hand under my chin and guided my face to his. "You will look as beautiful as you do any other time I have laid eyes on you." I felt myself flush. "May I kiss you, m'eudail?"

Though his lips were nearly touching mine, I nodded anyway. Roderick pressed his lips against mine, and I melted into his chest. My hands immediately reached for his shoulders as his arms wrapped around my back. His tongue begged entrance to my mouth, and I was quick to grant it. 

He tasted like blueberry bread, and I could smell his sandalwood parfum. Our tongues mingled for a few moments before he pulled away from me. His breath was hot on my neck as he kissed the shell of my ear. "Could I take you upon my knee?" he whispered. I looked up at him, confused to be asked a question after being deeply kissed. At my confusion, he smiled gently and sat back against the cushions. "Are you comfortable enough to sit in my lap?"

I realized what he was asking. After a moment of thought, I nodded, allowing him to help guide me into his lap as he adjusted to lean me against the carriage's wall. He wrapped an arm around me and rested the other over my lap. "Are you sure this is alright, m'eudail?"

I nodded, unsure what to do with my hands, so I placed them in my lap. He smiled in slight amusement, and his eyes took me in. "This blue is a lovely color on you," he said, allowing his hand to trace the length of my side and feeling the worn cotton of my dress. 

I felt a shiver of excitement as his hand ran the length of me. He chuckled as he took one of my hands and kissed my wrist. "No parfum?" he whispered against my skin.

"I didn't want it to break with all the moving I would be doing," I admitted. "So, I asked Missus Fernsby to keep it safe."

He hummed, his lips pressing against the sensitive skin on my wrist. "The smell of baked goods suits you just as well," he murmured, his teeth nicking my skin before kissing away the hurt. I sighed and sat up just a little straighter. He repeated the action slightly higher on my wrist, his eyes meeting mine.

This time, I could not help a soft moan that escaped my lips. He reacted quickly to the sound and cupped my face to press his lips hard against mine, his tongue sliding into my mouth. My hand found the back of his head, and I mingled our tongues together. Roderick breathed hard against me, a hand twisting the fabric of my skirt. 

His lips slid from my face to my jawline, just below my ear. He teased my earlobe between his teeth before licking the shell of my ear. I placed a hand against his chest and let my head lull back at the tickling feeling. "Do you like this?" he whispered as his mouth slid down my neck, his tongue leaving a trail of warmth. 

He knew the answer, but he wanted me to say it. "Yes," I gasped as he suckled at my neck.

Roderick grunted, and I felt his hand slide down my leg. He pressed his hips upwards, and I felt his bulge against the underside of my thigh. I bit my lip, a thrill running through me to feel his hardness. His hand slowly slid up my skirt, the featherlight touch tickling my skin through my stocking, and he groaned as his hand slowly inched up my leg, cupping my calf. When his hand came to the end of my stocking, he slid two fingers into the hemline, slowly pulling the sock past my knee. 

I felt a warmth below my naval and allowed my legs to fall further open. He sighed into my skin and let his lips leave my neck, skirting the skin of my chest. He placed light kisses just above the neckline of my dress. My breasts ached, and I wanted him to feel them, massage them. 

As his kisses returned to my mouth, I reached for the hand that had ventured up my skirt, which cupped my knee for now. He allowed me to pull his hand from my leg and stopped his kisses to watch me. I pressed his palm into my breast and arched into his palm. 

Roderick made a low groan deep in his throat and, with a firm hand, squeezed my breast as his kisses resumed. His mouth explored the part of my chest revealed to him as his hand switched between either of my peaks. My head lulled back, enjoying the feel of his toying. With each gasp that escaped my lips, the harder he pressed into me, and the harder he pressed into me, the further I pushed my chest out to his amusement. 

Just as his fingers and mouth were slowly venturing into the neckline of my gown, there came a yell from upfront. "We are approaching Cedar Hall, Master Forbes," Reuel called. 

Roderick stopped and blinked, coming out of his groping as if he had been slapped. I looked at his face, gasping in arousal. His eyes raked over me with a feverish want, but after a moment, he cleared his throat. He helped push the neckline of my dress into a more respectable position and smoothed over my skirts. "We are nearly there, leannan," he said, his voice still husky. 

"It would appear so," I managed as he helped me off his lap and into the cushioned seat. 

He paused to give me another deep kiss, promising more to come if we could get away. Then he pulled away and righted his jacket and waistcoat before he adjusted his bulge, hiding his arousal. 

The carriage jerked to a stop after a few moments of calming silence. My face and desire had cooled considerably, especially as Roderick kept his eyes firmly on the covered windows. The numbing of my lips faded after being kissed so much, and I began to feel guilty. Roderick hadn't looked at me since he helped right my clothing and had said nothing. I could only grasp onto the solace that it was not myself that broke the encounter. 

Roderick stood and exited the carriage first. Outside, he held his hand out and helped me down the stairs. I stopped short as I stepped onto the gravel of the drive. Before us was an enormous mansion with four floors and two wings that branched off to wall in the courtyard where we stood. It was made of white brick with black shutters and windowsills. On either side of the drive was a pond, each with a fountain of jumping fish. It certainly made Roderick's home feel very modest. 

I forced my mouth shut as Roderick offered me his arm. Behind us, Reuel gathered the dress box from the carriage as five servants took possession of the chaise and drove it away towards the right-hand side of the mansion. 

"This is Cedar Hall," Roderick said, gesturing to the mansion. I looked around us and saw nothing but cedar trees around the building. 

"It's enormous," I said. 

"Yes, my sister is the favored one," he replied, amused. "Though her late husband came from a line of wealthy Cedar Choppers from the north. But come, she is waiting."

As Roderick nudged me forward, I saw a servant with deep brown skin and a brightly colored uniform waiting for us at the door. "Good afternoon, Charles," Roderick greeted. 

"Master Forbes, Miss Kirby," Charles greeted in return. He opened the large ebony doors and led us inside. 

I bit back a curse at the shining floor, the mahogany stairs and railings, and the red carpet on the stairs that offset the white tile. The entrance hall was large enough to hold a ball, but with the sheer size of the mansion, I assumed Cedar Hall had its own ballroom. 

Roderick chuckled at the look on my face and pulled me along. We followed Charles down a hallway to the right and into a large parlor. Like his home, a piano sat in the far corner under a window, accompanied by many shelves full of vases, busts, and books. The walls were decorated with paintings and portraits, but near the hearth was a set of red paisley furniture accompanied by an extravagantly carved tea table. A beautifully painted tea set had been placed on the counter, likely by the maid standing near the hearth's corner. The maid looked similar to Charles and wore a similarly bright uniform. 

A woman in a deep purple gown sat on the divan facing the door, her hair pinned up and trailing over one shoulder. Her hair was dark brown, though many strands of grey showed prominently. I remembered that Roderick had said she was the youngest of his siblings, though she looked to be the eldest. While she had a kind face, her skin was weathered, similar to my mother's. She looked like a woman under constant stress, though she had a bright smile and the same green eyes as Roderick. As she stood to greet us with much effort, I found she was as tall as he was.

She opened her arms in welcome. "It is lovely to finally meet you, Eleanora," she said, using my first name. 

To my horror, I realized I had only been told her first name and had no idea how to greet her properly. I dipped into a curtsey, but my proper greeting died on my lips as I failed to devise one good enough. I was, however, saved from it by Roderick hurrying forward. 

"Glenda, sit," he said quietly. "I said you didn't have to stand on ceremony."

Glenda slapped his hands away. "I am fine, Roddy," she responded, though she quickly reached for his hand as he helped her sit back on the couch. 

Once she was seated, Roderick offered me a seat on the divan across from her. "How did you find the ride here, Eleanora?" she asked. 

I couldn't tell if she knew what had happened in the carriage or if it was a simple question, but I smiled. "It was quite smooth," I answered and faltered. Etiquette said I would add her title to the end of the sentence. 

But Glenda smiled as if she knew why I paused. "There is no need for titles here," she said. "Glenda is my name and what I go by. I have no need for surnames since my husband passed."

Hoping how strange I found her words did not read on my face, I simply smiled and nodded. "Reuel," she said, turning to Roderick's silent servant. "You may take the dress to my sewing room. Charles lead him there; it's a big house."

"Yes, Glenda," Charles responded with a bow. 

I tried not to react to the strangeness of the answer. Any other servant I had met never used the master's first name. I swallowed my nervousness as Glenda turned back to us, her attention on Roderick. 

"Well, Roddy, you certainly did her justice with your description of her," Glenda said as she beckoned for the maid to pour the tea. "She is charming and a baker's daughter to boot. Jamesina certainly did a number on you to turn you into a lady."

Unsure what that meant, I merely smiled and sipped my tea when it was handed to me. "She is quite talented," Roderick said, offering his hand to me. I quickly set my cup upon its saucer and took his hand. “She made me a delicious blueberry bread," he said.

Glenda smiled at me. "I take it Jamesina taught you to dance?" she questioned.

"Yes," I replied with a nod. "We had several lessons before she allowed us to be presented at a dinner party."

Glenda hummed and turned her eyes to Roderick. "And how was the dinner party where you met her? I heard Howard Rigsby offered for her as well."

Roderick shifted and told the story of how the proposals went. What I hadn't known was the argument that had taken place before I was shown into the room. Mister Rigsby had been adamant that only one man be allowed to present a ring to me at a time without knowing about the other one. He had demanded to go first and argued with Jamesina and Roderick for over an hour before Rory had been sent for me. 

"I am not sure why you are surprised then by the nasty letters he is sending you," Glenda said after Roderick had finished the story with Mister Rigsby scuffing Jamesina's table and storming off. 

Roderick's eyes glanced at me before darting back to his sister with a glare. "It is what is in the letters that is surprising, and I would prefer not to discuss this in front of Eleanora. She does not need to know anything further about Rigsby's nastiness."

"As you wish, Roddy, but I assume she will learn about it all sooner rather than later," Glenda answered, sipping her tea. 

"Aye, and now is not the time," he insisted. 

Glenda shrugged as she put her tea back onto the table. I glanced between the two, unsure what to make of the disagreement. I felt a shiver run down my spine at the insistence in both of their words and wondered more about what could have been possible than Mister Rigsby being sore about my choice. One that I would have assumed he would have been over by now. 

Feeling my eyes on him, Roderick looked at me and smiled. "It's nothing to worry about, leannan," he said, retaking my hand and squeezing. "Remember what I said about him at Wheatrest?" His eyes sparkled mischievously. 

I withheld a giggle and nodded. Having finished my tea, I set the cup and saucer on the table, my eyes glancing toward Glenda. My smile fell as I noticed the woman's blank face; her eyes glazed over as she stared above our heads. Unnerved by her vacant look, I glanced over my shoulder to find nothing but a large painting of a man overlooking us—a man I assumed to be her late husband. Roderick quickly got up and placed a hand on her shoulder. 

"Glenda?" he asked gently. He repeated her name a few times as the maid approached.

Glenda blinked and turned to look up at him. "I am sorry. Roddy, I think I ought to go lie down for a while," she said in a faraway voice. The maid offered Glenda help to her feet. "Roddy, give your Eleanora a tour. I should be right as rain in an hour or two."

"Aye, Glenda, take all the rest you need," he answered as his sister was escorted out of the parlor.

Roderick turned to me with a saddened look. "I apologize, leannan," he said gently. "She has been sick since she was little." He offered me his arm as I stood up, watching the maid lead Glenda out of a second door across the room. "Arthritic since she was a teen, and then her funny fits started shortly after."

"Will she be alright?" I asked as he led me from the room.

"Aye, she just needs her rest right now," he replied with a gentle smile. "Charles and Claire will see to her for the next hour or two. Come, I will show you the family wing. The twenty bedrooms would be a bore, and I am certain you know what a kitchen looks like. But there is a ballroom."

Despite being unnerved by the situation, I smiled at the teasing and allowed him to lead me through the east wing. 

We finally wandered up to the fourth floor, where the family apartments were. About halfway down the carpeted hall, Roderick paused in front of a door with a mischievous smile. "Glenda will still be resting for a while yet," he said, gently tugging me around to face him. "Would you be opposed to keeping one another company for the time?"

I was very aware that we had wandered into the bedroom wing. Words stuck in my throat. Lottie had told me it was not uncommon for lovers to explore one another before marriage, but it certainly was not something commonly spoken of. But just because it was expected didn't make it right. But I could still recall the heat of Roderick's kisses in the carriage and the fire that had ignited below my naval. 

Roderick hooked a finger beneath my chin and pulled me from my musings. "Eleanora, I will not force you to do anything you are unwilling to do," he said quietly. 

But I could see the unspoken truth in his eyes: it would soon be a wifely duty. Lottie had reminded me of this, but she said it could be enjoyable if I allowed myself to succumb to the man. 

With the truth of the words both said and unsaid between us, I met Roderick's eyes and nodded my consent. A mischievous grin spread across his face, and he opened the door, nodding to me to follow him. 

Inside the room, I looked around to find it just as large as all the others had been, but a trunk stood near the bed, revealing all sorts of fancy men's clothes. The hearth to the right was unlit, but there was still heat in the room, and I wasn't sure where it was coming from. Only a sliver of sunlight streamed through the curtains at either window, and a large bed sat between the two panes. I felt the urge to fan myself.

A golden, damasked comforter lay over the enormous bed. Roderick let the door close softly behind us, and I clasped my hands before myself, willing the nervousness to disappear. 

"This is my room," he said, standing beside me. An arm slowly snaked around my waist. 

"It's huge," I replied, looking around the four corners. And it was, but it was also very plain; it was still a guest room. Roderick hummed in response and gently nudged me forward. Towards the bed. "Are you staying with your sister while you are in Charles Town?"

"Aye, only because my client lives on her property in the west wing."

"Oh?" We quickly approached the bed.  

"Mother-in-law," he answered, dropping onto the mattress. "She and her daughter had no interest in us, so they remained on their side of the house."

"Does her husband's family all live on the property as well?" I asked as Roderick took my hands, his eyes raking over me. I felt that heat below my naval again at the look in his eyes, but I could feel my hands shaking. 

"The ones who are still alive," he answered. He pulled lightly on my arms, drawing me to sit beside him. "You are nervous." It was a statement rather than a question. My mouth was dry, so I merely nodded. Roderick cupped my face, and my heartbeat quickened. He had to know how much I liked the feeling of his hands. "Eleanora, I am not about to force myself upon you; I merely ask for your sweet company again. Is that acceptable?"

I nodded as his thumbs stroked the apples of my cheeks. "Yes," I whispered. 

Roderick smiled and leaned in, pressing his lips against mine. With his mouth gently massaging against mine, I felt myself relax so much that I found that I was the one pushing my tongue against his lips. He grunted and willingly let my tongue slide into his mouth as his hands slid from my face to cradle my neck. 

I breathed in his scent of sandalwood and sage, my hands pressing against his chest. Roderick's fingertips massaged into my scalp as his tongue searched my mouth. I let out a soft moan as his fingers slid to the pin in my hair. With a quick movement, the pin was pulled, and my hair tumbled down around my shoulders. 

Roderick pulled back from me, his green eyes looking over my face. The warmness of his eyes took my breath away, and my fingers curled into his shirt. "You are beautiful," he whispered, taking in the sight of me. The look he gave me told me his words were true: he found me beautiful—this handsome, wealthy man. A featherlight touch against my cheek from him was all it took for me to lose myself in his eyes. 

My hands slid from his chest to his face, and I pulled Roderick towards me, kissing him firmly on the mouth. A hand slid down my back, and I arched into his touch. He tossed my hairpin onto the bedside table as his other arm wrapped around my back. Roderick's mouth strayed to my cheek and jawline as I wrapped my arms around his neck. His tongue caressed the outer ridge of my ear, causing goosebumps along my arms. I sighed and nuzzled into his neck, and his lips took hold of my earlobe. His fingertips dug into my back as I breathed hard against him. 

Roderick's lips slid down to my neck, where he gently bit the sensitive skin. My breasts ached, and I longed to feel his firm hands squeezing my peaks. "Will you lay me down?" I whispered in his ear. 

"Are you sure?" he gasped against my skin. 

I did not reply; I cradled his head against my neck and pulled him against me as I leaned back against the pillows. He groaned and pulled away, adjusting my body so I lay entirely on the bed. He removed his waistcoat and tossed it to the foot of the bed as he leaned over me. He laid just so that he wasn't pressing hard against me but enough that I could feel the planes of his chest. Wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me to him, his lips resumed their place against my neck, but this time, he kissed downwards to the exposed skin of my chest, breathing his hot breath against me. My breasts felt trapped as I gasped, melting into the feeling.

A hand strayed over my chest and gently ran over the curve of my breasts to the laces of the dress. I sighed. His lips and hands were almost where I wanted them. "May… I… loosen… your… laces?" he asked between kisses, his fingertips already tugging. 

My breasts ached so much for attention that I nodded, drunk on his kisses. He pulled at the top of my gown, loosening the laces until I could take deep, heaving breaths. Murmuring something I couldn't hear, Roderick let his lips lightly caress just above the gown's neckline as his hand cupped and squeezed through the stiff fabric. 

I sighed heavily. "Do you want to see them?" I asked, looking down at him. 

"Verra much," he muttered into my skin. He leaned up on his elbow, and I untied the laces of the gown and opened the dress until my breasts were revealed to him.

Roderick groaned deep in his throat, pulling the sides of the gown further away. His fingertips caressed over my breasts, touching my pearled nipples each in turn. "Christ above, you are beautiful," he whispered, trailing his fingers over my breasts and down my sternum. 

He palmed my right breast as I cupped his cheeks, willing him to kiss me. His lips met mine again, though I felt his distraction as he pinched my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. I gasped against his mouth. He sighed in return and pressed his hips against me. I could feel the now familiar bulge of him, and something in me did not want to shy away. I let out a soft moan, and Roderick pulled away from my lips. His eyes took in my heaving chest. 

"You have such beautiful breasts," he whispered. "May I do my best to pay homage to them?"

"Yes," I replied softly, arching my back so he had better access to them. 

Roderick leaned over me, and, placing a hand on my ribcage, he engulfed my breast into his mouth. I whimpered in pleasure, letting my hand stray to the back of his head, my fingertips massaging his scalp as he had done to me. He groaned lightly into my breast, rolling my hardened nipple between his teeth. 

"Ooh," I moaned, my head lolling backward into the pillows. He suckled harder at my sounds, causing more to escape my lips, sounds I wasn't sure I could make. He flattened his tongue against my nipple, making me gasp, my hands tightening on him. I felt a slickness between my thighs, and I unconsciously rubbed my legs together as I watched him tease my breast. But he did not neglect my other peak; his mouth moved to my left breast while his hand cupped and massaged the other. 

He fondled me, rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger again while his teeth bit down into my skin as he suckled. I bit my lip at the sharp pain, but his tongue quickly danced along the hurt, making my skin forget. Then he repeated, biting down and suckling. His tongue danced along my skin, and I gasped out his name, my hand tightening in his hair. He let out a low groan that rumbled even my chest, and he looked up at me, releasing my breast from his mouth. A reddened love mark was left near my nipple. 

"You are so full of passion," he whispered. His lips danced up my exposed chest to my neck and then to my ear. He pressed his bulge against me. "Tell me, Eleanora, are you wet?" he said softly into my ear. 

I nodded suddenly, becoming quite aware of the warmth between my thighs. "Are you going to touch me?" I whispered. 

A mischievous look crossed Roderick's face, and his pale green eyes blazed. "Do you want me to?"

"Yes," I whispered. 

Roderick sat up and, with gentle hands, began to pull up my skirts. I watched as he took in the reveal of my stockings up to my bare thighs. He smirked as he slowly pushed my skirt up above my waist, and I was bared before him. He ran his hand just above the downy patch of hair of my neathers, and he laid back down against me. 

"If I touch you, will you touch me?" he whispered, taking my hand and guiding it to his bulge. I cupped him through his trousers and found that he was very hard, his member throbbing through the cloth. I nodded against him, and he leaned over me. "Have you ever touched yourself?" he whispered. 

I hummed a negative answer, shaking my head. He groaned and muttered something in Gaelic. Roderick adjusted me again and placed a kiss on my breast, slowly kissing up to my neck and to my ear as his hand slowly parted the mound of hair at my pubis. "Spread your legs," he whispered.

I did as he asked, parting my knees to allow him access. He smiled against me and pressed his fingers against me, groaning in amusement as he touched a bundle of nerves so lightly that I jumped. 

"That's your bud," he explained in a whisper. "I'm going to stroke this to make you feel good."

I nodded against him, and his lips latched on to mine. He rubbed my bud with two fingers as he kissed me, his tongue mingling with mine. I wrapped my arms around him tightly as his fingers worked. "Feel good?" he whispered against my lips. 

"Yes," I gasped. I shuddered against him as he pressed a little harder. "AH!" 

"Hush," he whispered, kissing my lips again. "This is between you and I."

I gripped his shirt tightly as he continued to rub me. He sighed as his other hand wrapped around my bare torso, pushing me further against him. As his fingers moved, I found I was unable to keep my moans to myself, and the more I moaned, the harder Roderick kissed me and the deeper his tongue delved into my mouth. 

After a few long moments, I whimpered and arched into him, and he let out his own groan. "That's it," he cooed, as my legs shook. "Ooh, keep your legs spread for me… that's a good lass…" His muttering excited me, and I adjusted to allow him better access, gasping against his lips. My fingers curled tightly into his shirt as I pulled him closer.

He increased his speed and pressure, and I began to move my hips in time with his fingers. He cooed gentle encouragement to me as his fondling increased, and I felt a fire coursing through my veins; my toes began to curl inside my shoes. I bit my lip and squeezed him hard as his fondling came to a fever pitch, matching my gasps against him. "Right there?" he cooed. "Right there?" 

I lulled my head back with a moan and jerked against him as his fingers worked. My body shuddered violently against him, and I gave a high-pitched moan into him, gripping him as hard as I had ever gripped anything in my life. My body shuddered, and my loins throbbed under his fingers. My legs shook and gave way, trapping his hand between my thighs. He groaned in approval and waited until I stopped shuddering against him before he removed his hand.

He rolled over onto his back and pulled me to his chest, allowing my head to rest upon his shoulder. "Good lass," he groaned, wrapping his arms around my body and holding me as I caught my breath. "Did you enjoy your first climax?" he whispered. 

I nodded. "Was that…Am I no longer…?"

"No, indeed," he chuckled. "That was merely fondling, leannan." He let a hand come up and stroke my loose hair. "You can do that to yourself," he whispered after a moment. "When you are alone at night, and you think of me."

I hummed into him and rubbed my legs together, enjoying the slickness I felt. "Could I… uhm… return the favor?" I asked quietly. 

Roderick smiled. "Aye," he whispered. He reached down to his belt, undid his trousers, and tugged until his manhood sprung free. I watched in curiosity to see a man's cock for the first time. He was large and throbbed as he stood stiff, swollen with arousal. He gently took my hand and guided me down to his member.  

I wrapped my hand entirely around him, marveling that my thumb and middle finger could barely touch. "See what you do to me?" he whispered, guiding my hand along his hot, velvety shaft. I let out a soft moan as I stroked him. 

His hand moved mine to pay special attention to the tip of him, where a bead of moisture had formed. I spread it along his shaft as he withdrew his own hand, allowing me to pump him. "Does it feel good?"

"Aye," he replied. "But…you are a bit inexperienced." I looked up at him in confusion. "Here." He sat up and guided my hand to my own loins. "Touch yourself while I watch you."

Intrigued and wanting to give him his own climax, I spread my legs and touched my bud as I looked into his eyes. Roderick pulled up his shirt to reveal the lower planes of his stomach and stroked himself. 

I toyed with myself as he watched my fingers. "Faster," he whispered. I moved my fingers faster, letting out a soft moan of pleasure. "Oh, can you make yourself climax?" I bit my lip and pushed harder as he had done, staring into his face as he watched my hand. 

Roderick leaned heavily back into the pillows, but my second climax was not coming as soon as his first. His body tensed, and through gritted teeth and heaving breaths, he said: "Cup me." I looked him over and realized what he meant. I rolled over onto my side and, with my wet fingers, reached down and cupped his balls. He hissed in pleasure and pumped himself harder. I massaged my hand against him and let out a soft moan of arousal. "Say my name."

"Roderick," I gasped against his jaw. 

"Again."

"Roderick," I moaned.

His body seized, and he grunted as his hips jerked. I looked down to see his seed spill over his lower torso as his cock throbbed hard in climax. I massaged his balls a few seconds longer before wrapping my arms around him and laying my head on his chest. Roderick held me to him as his breathing slowed to a normal rhythm. 

"What did you think?" he asked. 

"That was fun," I replied immediately, then flushed. 

Roderick chuckled and kissed my forehead. "I would be insulted if you didn't find it fun." I smiled and buried my face into his chest, breathing in his scent, now mingled with the smell of us. "As much as I would like to stay this way," he said after a few minutes, "we best be getting ourselves together before we are found."

I nodded and sat up. Roderick fished a handkerchief from his pocket, cleaned himself up, and righted himself as I laced the front of my gown. 

He smiled as I tied the bow into place. He reached over to the bedside table and retrieved my hairpin. I fixed my hair as he watched, and once I had righted myself, he cupped my face and placed a gentle kiss against my lips. "You are a treasure," he whispered. 

I found no reply as he took my hand and pulled me from the mussed bed. In the hallway, we linked arms and resumed a calm walk as we ventured down the corridor. 

The heat of the aroused flush eventually faded as we walked back down to the parlor. We did not find Glenda sitting at the divan, but Charles was waiting for us near the hearth.

"Mistress Glenda is not feeling well enough to keep company for the afternoon, and the elder Mistress Barclay would like to see you, Master Forbes."

Roderick grimaced but nodded. "Would you see that the carriage is set and Reuel found then, Charles?"

"Yessir."

Roderick turned to me and smiled gently. He cupped my face. "I hate to leave the visit like this," he sighed. "But I do have a client to tend to."

I nodded. "I understand."

He leaned in and kissed either of my cheeks before placing a kiss on my lips. "However, I will be thinking of this afternoon until the wedding."

I giggled and wrapped my arms around him. "I will, too," I answered honestly. Perhaps I had too much fun. 

"Then let me give you something else to remember," he teased, wrapping his arms around me and bending me backward. 

He slid his tongue into my mouth and kissed me deeply for a long few moments, one hand cradling my head while the other groped my bottom. I sighed into him and cupped his cheek. "I cannot wait to marry you, Eleanora," he whispered against my lips. 

"Me either," I managed. 

Hearing footsteps in the hall, Roderick righted me, and we let go of each other. He smiled and winked as the parlor door creaked open. "The carriage is ready, Master Forbes," Reuel said. 

Roderick nodded and turned to run a hand over my arm. "Before I forget, Glenda will send carriages for your family," he said. “You will ride with her and stay with her in the Bumbling Bee so she can make last-minute adjustments to your dress."

I nodded, though it felt jarring to be back in the wedding business after everything that had happened that afternoon. Roderick placed a final kiss against my cheek and escorted me back into the entrance hall, with Reuel tagging along.

"Reuel," he said over his shoulder. "Come back after dropping Eleanora off; I may need you to fetch other things from my legal bag."

"Yessir," Reuel said as we came to the door. 

Roderick paused and took my left hand in his. He placed a kiss on my engagement ring. "Until the wedding, leannan," he said. 

I dipped into a curtsey. "Until the wedding, Roderick."

He smiled and offered my hand to Ruel. He watched as Reuel led me correctly down the stairs and towards the carriage that awaited us at the bottom. When I looked back a final time, Roderick was gone from the doorway, and the door was shut against the heat of June. Reuel gave me a wane smile as he helped me into the lonely carriage, and I began to have this creeping feeling that everyone knew what I had done with Roderick. 

The carriage pulled to a stop outside the bakery, and once Reuel helped me down, he bowed to me. "I will see you soon, Mistress," he said. "I must be away quickly, but stay safe."

As I watched, Reuel climbed back into the driver's seat and hooked a finger to his forehead in salute as he nudged the horses into a trot. I turned to the bakery and found that the wooden sign in the window read closed rather than open. My face fell. This was beyond a bad sign. The windows of the family apartment were covered with curtains. I swallowed.

Deep in my gut, I knew I probably should have made for Charlotte's cottage or even her parents, but that would only have put off whatever was going to happen. For a brief moment, I thought I could stay with Lottie and Ambrosius until Glenda's carriages came, but I decided that would lead to severe questions on Roderick's side. I took a deep breath and went around to the back door. 

The kitchens were silent, the fires were put out, and all baking supplies were put away. I could hear footsteps above me in the family apartment. They were heading towards the stairs; by the sounds, they were my father's. I took another steadying breath and walked to meet the footsteps. This had to be the last one, the last beating. 

My father met me at the bottom of the stairs, and I could tell by his bloodshot eyes that he was drunk. He smelled of alcohol, and his face was reddened. He snarled a slurred insult and grabbed my hair, hauling me up the stairs.

I withheld the urge to scream at the strain on my scalp and followed as quickly as possible. Upstairs, I was shoved into the small room we called a parlor to find my brother. "How much disgrace did you bring upon this family?" my father snarled, shoving me into the center of the room. 

I caught myself on the tattered couch. "What?" I managed after slamming into the backing. 

"Did you let that bloody Scotsman hump you?" he sneered, grabbing my hair again and forcing me to look at him. 

"No!" I cried, trying to pull away, though I suddenly felt very guilty for the fondling that had taken place. 

"You lying little bitch!" My father jerked me backward, and I was shoved into the wall. My head swam from the movement, and I was barely aware of my father speaking again: "Adam, hold her."

My brother grabbed my arms and forced me to face my father while he held my arms down. "Adam, let go!" I screamed, struggling against his grip. This was going to be the worst it had ever been. Adam never joined.

"I want to know if you dishonored us too," he hissed. "That bloody servant of his is just as bad."

"Did you hump the servant, too?" my father asked, slapping me across the face. 

Blinking against the tears that threatened my resolve, I was unaware that my father was grabbing the front of my dress. But the rip of cloth was all too clear. I screamed and struggled against my brother's grip as my breasts were revealed to the parlor. My father grabbed my throat and forced me to stop moving. He looked my chest over as I let sobs escape my lips. Never had the abuse been this humiliating. 

"There's a bloody love mark," he snarled. He slapped me again. 

"You don't know anything!" I managed, trying to deny the truth. He wouldn't believe me even if it was true. 

But my father reacted quickly. He shoved his hand down my ripped dress and to my neathers. He pulled his hand away, showing my arousal on his fingers. My face burned hotter in shame. Adam let go of me as my father undid his belt. Quickly, I closed the ripped gown around myself and tried to run for my room. I knew better, but this…this was different. I wondered if my father would kill me this time. 

But Adam was quick and blocked the doorway. "Dirty puzzle," he hissed. I stopped short, only for my father to grab my hair for a third time and throw me onto the floor. 

"Show her how much she's hurt you, Adam," my father hissed. 

Before I could push myself into a sitting position, my brother's foot met my stomach, shoving all the breath out of me. I fell onto my side and gasped hard. There was another kick from my brother, and then my father ordered him to pin my arms to the floor and expose my back. I screamed as the slap of leather met my already bruised skin. I cried on the floor as my father continued to wail against me with what felt like all his might, my nails digging into the floorboards.

Blood pounded in my ears, and the humiliation of everything was blurring my mind as I heard a bang and footsteps running into the room. My mother hurried into the parlor and shoved my father away from me. 

"Orville! Remember what that Scotsman said," she screamed at him. 

"That nasty bitch has disgraced us," he yelled back. 

"Just let him take her and be done with it! After the wedding, we don't have to see her anymore."

"She let that Scotsman—" Adam began before my mother rounded on him. 

"As opposed to what you did to that Hartley girl before Nadine?" my mother replied shrilly. "Let her be. Losing her family over a man will be enough punishment. That Mister Forbes certainly only cares about one thing, and it's not her."

More tears stung my eyes as I lay on the floor listening to the talk. My father stormed by, snapping his leather belt against the wall. "She would have made me more money at LaPearl."

My brother gave me a final kick to the stomach before he followed after my father. Shakily, I pushed myself onto my knees, only for my mother to grab my hair. "I warned you against being a slattern for this Scotsman; now look at what you've done," she hissed in my ear before letting me go. 

I watched as my mother left the parlor. I wrapped my ripped dress around me and let myself sob on the floor. There would be no way of getting a letter to Jamesina that would get her servants here faster than Glenda's carriages for the wedding, and sending a note to Roderick would only fan the flames and could result in something worse. Besides, what if my mother was right? What if that's all Roderick saw me as? A vessel for pleasure? Was that all I was good for?

Chapter Text

9. Wheatrest

I carefully stepped out of Glenda’s carriage into the bright sunlight, gripping the servant’s hand, Charles, and holding my dress above my feet. My back still ached, and my jaw hurt from clenching to keep my complaints silent. I looked up at the great house of Wheatrest, glad to be away once more from Kirby’s Baked Goods. Likely for the last time in a long while, and while I told myself I ought to feel some sort of sadness for leaving my family home, I felt nothing but sweet relief.

As I was helped onto the gravel driveway, I noticed Jamesina Fernsby was waiting at the bottom of the stairs to greet us in an extravagant floral gown. Glenda stepped down next to me (dressed much the same way) and strode towards my cousin with her arms outstretched.

“Jamesina, love, it has been too long,” Glenda said, embracing her friend.

“Oh, aye, it has, Glenda,” was the casual reply as the two hugged for a long moment.

Hearing the door open to the carriage that held my family, I raised my chin and strode toward my cousin. Since the beating after my return to the bakery from Cedar Hall, I had not spoken to anyone in my family, not even Nadine, and they had gone out of their way not to be near me. I had spent the last few days packing and repacking everything I had, though it was not much. I felt little guilt in having packed all the books our grandmother had given us, leaving none for Adam.

I had two large suitcases that consisted of my best clothes, a couple of pinafores, winter cloaks, and the seven books I had brought, including one of my own that consisted of the receipts I had come up with, and a few tonics and poultices that I had acquired from Lottie from the last beating. The carriage ride back through the country had been uneventful as Glenda was considered new and odd amongst my family and thus avoided when we stopped at the Bumbling Bee. I knew she had been the topic of conversation on the ride there, especially with the two carriages that had arrived.

Glenda and I spoke very little about the wedding, and she mostly told me stories about my betrothed from when they were children or about their time in Scotland. I gathered that Roderick and Glenda were rather close, and their older brother, Caelyn, was nearly a constant villain in her stories. If I was honest, though, it all seemed rather generic, and I thought I would find out much more about my husband-to-be the longer I was with him. And to my great relief, Glenda did not have one of her fits while I was in her presence. Of course, I worried about her health, but I certainly would not know what to do in the event of one, for I was no healer.

As I approached Jamesina and Glenda, my cousin turned to me with a bright smile. Jamesina cupped my cheeks and kissed my forehead. “It is wonderful to see you again, dear,” she said.

As she let go of me, I dipped into a little curtsey. “And it is wonderful to see you as well, Missus Fernsby,” I answered.

Jamesina laughed at my correct response and patted my shoulder. “A lovely wife you will make to Mister Forbes,” she said. “Now, Dominck will carry your trunks to your room. How many are there, Eleanora?” Jamesina nodded towards Rory’s brother as he approached.

A confused look fell over my face as the tall, bushy-haired servant strode forward. “Just two, but, if I may ask, where is Uilliam?” I said as Jamesina made to turn to address my family.

I watched as something flickered across my cousin’s face, but she turned to me with a smile. “Mister Forbes needed the help of another abled body for the time being. But rest assured, he will be present at the wedding. I know you are fond of him and his family. He and your betrothed will join us in two days.”

Properly scolded for my wondering about another man, I nodded and folded my hands in front of me as Jamesina greeted my family, staying firmly put in the safety of Glenda and her oddness.

That evening, after we had the customary dinner with our host, I found myself back in my old room, my trunks waiting patiently for me. Though I knew Jamesina had already been in to go through my clothes, as was her wont, now I just had to wait until she decided to stop by and offer her guidance on them. I had only just changed into a night dress, intending to put a poultice on my back as best as I could, when a knock sounded against the door.

I quickly drew on an overdress and hurried to the door, only to find Rory grinning. “Rory,” I gasped, wrapping her in a hug, which I instantly regretted as my back was engulfed with stinging pain.

Of course, my friend did not return the embrace but giggled. “I came to see if you needed anything before bed,” she said as I slowly let go of her with a pained breath. As I looked at her, she gave me a worried glance. “Are you well, Ellie?”

I looked down the hallway in either direction and beckoned her in. “If you wouldn’t mind doing me a favor,” I whispered as she entered. I swiftly shut the door with a soft click.

“Anything,” Rory whispered as she looked over my room. On the vanity, she saw the jar of salve and the rolls of cloth I had brought to protect my clothes and sheets from the poultices. The smell of the arnica flower slowly permeated through the room from the opened jar, and I knew Rory recognized it.

I looked at her as she turned to me. “Your father?” she whispered.

I nodded. “I can’t reach all the welts, and I need them to be as good as gone by the wedding.”

Rory nodded. “I know what to do; come sit.”

As I returned to the vanity seat, I removed the overdress and tossed it onto the trunk at the foot of the bed. I sat down and allowed Rory to undo the buttons in the back and spread the fabric open.

“Oh,” she gasped as she looked over the mottled bruising.

“Please, Rory, I know what you are going to say, but let me—” I was interrupted as a brisk knock sounded at the door.

“Are you decent, Eleanora?” came Jamesina’s voice. I winced, just who I didn’t need right at that moment. The door opened before I could call a yes or a no. “It is high time I spoke to you about your clothes—what in Heaven’s name is going on?”

Rory stepped away quickly, and I stood, holding my slipping nightgown around me. “Please, Jamesina, don’t blame Rory,” I said, the words tumbling out of my mouth as my cousin looked between us.

“I certainly won’t,” she said, entering the room and ensuring the door was closed behind her. “Christ above, child, did I see what I thought I did? Turn around.” She strode over to me as I did as she demanded; Rory moved out of the way with her head down and hands clasped in front of her in submission.

Jamesina strode over to me and touched my shoulder as she gently ran her fingertips over the welts and bruising. I winced and pressed my lips together to keep from whimpering. “How long ago did your father do this?” she asked.

I cleared my throat and took a steadying breath. “Nearly five days ago,” I answered.

“After Mister Forbes’s visit?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, child, why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“I-I wanted this to be the last time; I didn’t want to make a fuss. I just wanted to leave all of it in Charles Town.”

“Good gracious,” she muttered. “Alright. On the bed, on your stomach, child.”

Jamesina turned me towards the bed and helped me climb on, face down. I winced as I lay down, sliding my arms beneath a pillow to rest my head on. Jamesina handed Rory the poultice jar as she slid onto the bed. My cousin pulled my hair over my shoulder and opened the back of my nightgown as Rory sat on my other side. 

“Did your father beat you upon your return to the bakery as well?” Jamesina asked, running her fingers through my hair.

I jumped as I felt Rory’s cool fingertips covered in the arnica paste. The feeling of her fingertips covered the entirety of one welt, gently rubbing the paste in. I let out another steadying breath. “Yes,” I answered.

“Why did he do this?”

“He hates Mister Forbes. He hates him because he is rich and thinks I am being spoiled.” Rory touched a second welt, and I winced into the pillow.

Jamesina allowed her fingertips to massage my scalp in comfort as Rory applied the medicine. “Where did you get the poultice?”

“My friend Charlotte, she’ll be here for the wedding,” I answered in a pained voice.

The ministrations went on in silence for a few moments before Jamesina sighed. “You must tell Mister Forbes about this, lest he see it first.” I made no sign of reply as Rory soothed over one of the final welts.

“You don’t think these will be gone by then?” I asked quietly.

“The pain may be, but not all this bruising, love,” came her soft reply. Her fingers massaged the back of my head. “And it’s only fair to him that you let him know you have been marked up.”

“You said he knows my father is uncouth; does he not know about this? Does he suspect?”

With another sigh, Jamesina answered. “I believe he does suspect, but there is not much anyone could do.”

“Then, you don’t think he would call off the wedding if I were to tell him?”

“No, Eleanora, he will not. Though it has been a short engagement and courting experience, Mister Forbes loves you. He will not call it off over something done to you.”

I nodded into the pillow. “Do you think he will—” I began, though I could not finish my thought both in fear of the answer and of the reaction Jamesina would have.

“No,” she said firmly, having guessed my thoughts anyway. “Mister Forbes may like his expensive things, but he will not lay a hand on you. And if he ever does, you are to write to me immediately, and we will sort it out. I don’t hold with beatings. Of anyone. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Missus Fernsby,” I replied formally.

“We will leave your corsets off until Thursday when Mister Forbes arrives. Now, onto other matters, dear. The clothes you own will simply not do for a lawyer’s wife. Your best dresses would be considered picnicking clothes.”

I swallowed as Jamesina’s voice went from comforting to business-like. Her hands, however, still drew comfortingly through my curls. “What am I to do?”

“Mister Forbes asked me to warn you that he will have purchased new clothes for you, but there will not be much until after the wedding.”

I winced into the pillow as if I had been struck. “He’s spent so much money on me already,” I said. “He doesn’t have to spend anymore.”

“Eleanora,” Jamesina said so sternly that I looked up. “You are marrying far above your previous station, and you must look the part. Your betrothed is happy to spend the money on you. Do not insult him to imply that his wife is not worth the time and money.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied as Rory closed the arnica jar.

The day before the wedding arrived quicker than I could blink. The bruises faded with the steady and correct application of the arnica salve, and the pain was gone. It was less than I had hoped for, but I could carry myself normally.

Charlotte, Ambrosius, and the rest of her family arrived at nearly ten o’clock that morning, just a few hours before Roderick was due to arrive. In the early afternoon, Lottie and I walked arm in arm around the house, occasionally watching the servants set up for the ceremony tomorrow at noon.

“You mentioned that you had met Mister Forbes before the dinner party,” Lottie began as we made another turn about the house, following the flowerbeds.

“Yes, he had been called here to consult with Missus Fernsby about something or other,” I answered.

“Well, tell me the entire story, Ellie!”

“Well, Rory and I were walking around the house, just like we are now…”

I walked arm in arm with Rory about the main house, my chin held up and shoulders back. It was another poise exercise I sorely needed after another failed dinner party. Clouds were gathering above the treetops in the west, spreading out like spilled ink.

We took a right, putting our backs to the coming storm as we walked around the edge of the budding flowerbeds. A cool wind blew up, fluttering my burgundy skirt around my ankles, threatening to make me trip in the heavy clothes. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and as we approached the porch, I saw a man step up to the railing, looking over the fields before his gaze turned towards Rory and myself.

Our eyes locked for a moment as another wind blew, bringing the scent of rain. The man’s eyes felt piercing as he glanced first at me, quickly taking a second look, almost as if he was trying to decide if he recognized me or not. I swallowed as we approached, Jamesina stepping up to the railing and looking out over the sky.

The man turned to my cousin and said something as Rory leaned slightly into me. “That is Mistress Jamesina’s lawyer, Master Forbes,” she whispered, barely on the edge of my hearing.

Before I could nod in understanding, Jamesina locked eyes with me and beckoned me to join them on the porch. Rory and I quickly joined the two, the servant letting go of my arm and backing to the house siding with a bow. I stood before Jamesina and Mister Forbes with my hands clasped in front, and my posture held stiff though my shoulders were beginning to strain.

“Eleanora, this is my lawyer, Mister Roderick Forbes,” Jamesina said.

I ducked into a curtsey. “How do you do?” I said correctly.

The man smiled as Jamesina introduced me. “This is my current debutante, Miss Eleanora Kirby.”

Our eyes locked again, and I noticed his eyes were a rare pale green color I had never seen. He was dressed in a sky-blue suit with light brown hair pulled back in a fashionable black ribbon, and he looked to be nearing his mid-forties. “A pleasure, Miss Kirby,” he said in a thin Scottish accent. He offered his hand to me, which I took as he bowed over it like a perfect gentleman. There was something warm in the man’s countenance, but as I noticed the sharpness of his suit, the heavy rings on his right hand, and a large thistle broach over his heart, I could tell he was a rich man. But something told me in the way he stood that he was proud and perhaps a little vain.

I smiled politely as he let go of my hand and let his eyes wander over me before our eyes met again. “Mister Forbes has just accepted an invitation to your next dinner party, Eleanora,” Jamesina said.

Withholding my shock, I held my smile and nodded. “I look forward to seeing you on Saturday,” I answered.

He grinned in response, a boyish one if ever I had seen one. “Until then.” His eyes locked mine, and he bowed.

As I finished my story, Lottie giggled and nudged me. “It’s like he knew then that he would propose to you,” she said.

I gave her a thin smile. I kept my answer to myself. I had thought about our meeting since the proposal more than once and often thought the same. Long after the meeting, I felt his eyes on me when I walked away. It was a certain longing, as I had slowly named it. I shifted uncomfortably as we rounded the corner of the house. Perhaps all I was to him was a prize to win. He had toted me around Wilton like he had won me and was certainly eager with his affections. Was I just a vessel for pleasure for him?

With another light nudge from Lottie, I was pulled from my dark musings. She nodded ahead of us, and I saw Roderick standing on the back porch in his pale purple suit again. He was watching us as we approached, a distant look in his eye, though there was a smile on his face.

Roderick turned to us as we climbed the stairs to the porch, a welcoming smile on his face. “Good afternoon, Roderick,” I greeted as he offered his hand to me.

“Good afternoon, Eleanora,” he said, his eyes locked with mine, just as they had on the day we were introduced. But this time, as he took my hand, he kissed the back of my fingers, and I felt the heat of a blush creep down my ears. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the shadow of Reuel as he watched us from under the eaves. I gave him a smile in greeting, and he returned it.

Charlotte ducked into a curtsey. “It's wonderful to see you again, Mister Forbes.”

“Yes, same to you, Missus Pembroke,” he said, letting go of my hand and bowing to her. “Might I borrow my betrothed to look in on the decorating?”

“Of course,” Lottie smiled at me. “I will see you at supper, Ellie.”

“See you,” I said.

Roderick offered his arm to me, and we left the porch together and walked towards the gardens. He beckoned for Reuel to follow. Another chaperone as we were still unwed. I felt a twinge in my stomach, thinking this would be my last chaperoned walk. In less than a day, I would be a wedded woman.

“You know,” he began as we walked. His voice was warm, and I could not help the adjustment I made to inch just a little closer to him. “I was sharply reminded of the day we were introduced just now.”

I chuckled. “I was actually just telling Lottie about that,” I replied.

Roderick smiled and tightened his arm against mine, running his hand over mine. “You were in burgundy that day, and your eyes were the color of the storm clouds,” he said as we entered the gardens. “I felt like I was drowning when you approached me.”

I looked up at him to find he had a faraway look in his eyes as he thought about our meeting. I smiled and tucked a few loose pieces of hair behind my ear. We passed the fountain where Roderick had kissed me for the first time and followed a thin, stone path behind the hedges. We were surrounded by juniper bushes, alternating between tall lilac bushes of different purples. The sweet scent filled my nose, and I felt my dark thoughts falling away behind me.

“And you were in a light blue suit, I believe,” I said, continuing the memory. “And I distinctly remember thinking I had never seen such a pair of pretty green eyes like yours.”

Roderick laughed. “Pretty eyes?” he said, looking at me.

My face fell. “Err…well, that was exactly what I thought; I-I didn’t mean—” I stammered.

He stopped and turned to me, cupping my face. “I only jest, leannan. I don’t often hear the word pretty regarding myself,” he said with a softened smile. “But I will take my bride-to-be’s honest thoughts as the deepest compliment.”

I smiled as Roderick leaned in and placed a gentle kiss against my lips. “What else did you think of me when we were introduced?” he asked, pulling away. His hands slid beneath my jawline as he took me in, dressed in a pine green today with my hair pinned behind my head.

“I’m afraid I didn’t get much past your eyes at the time,” I answered truthfully. I felt him shift slightly in disappointment as I looked into his eyes, still remembering what had run through my mind when meeting him. “They’re like the color of sea glass.”

“Sea-glass?” he questioned, arching an eyebrow.

“It’s silly,” I said, looking down, but I continued. “But my grandmother and I used to go down to a creek bed in Charles Town. We would look for little pebbles to collect or even flowers to press. One day, we found smoothed stones of all shades of green. She told me they were pieces of glass that the water had beaten away at to smooth them over. I took a liking to the light green colors. I still have a few pieces that are exactly the same color as your eyes.” I shrugged as I ended my explanation.

Roderick nudged my chin, so I looked back up at him. That softness in his eyes again made his eyes the color of the sea glass I spoke of. I allowed myself a shy smile. “It isn’t silly, leannan. It’s lovely. But,” he said and glanced around us. Our young chaperone was busy paying the lilacs more mind than us. He lowered his voice. “I am supposed to be the one romancing you, not the other way around.” He wrapped his arms around my waist as he spoke and pulled me to him. I giggled as I caught myself on his upper arms.

Cocking his head, Roderick placed a kiss against my lips, one that I allowed myself to melt into easily. “You smell lovely,” he whispered against my lips.

“I remembered my parfum,” I answered before massaging my lips against his.

With a soft moan, Roderick pressed me tighter against his chest and allowed his teeth to nip at my bottom lip. A moan caught in my throat as I eagerly awaited his tongue, but he pulled away and slid his lips to my ear. “I’ve thought often about that day at Cedar Hall,” he whispered.

I sighed to feel his breath on the shell of my ear. “So have I,” I mumbled. Though likely for different reasons. But I could not help the giddiness in my stomach and the excitement that heated in my core at the mention of that day, where his fingers had been. Where mine had returned the favor.

“I can’t wait to have you all to myself,” he whispered, lipping at my earlobe.

I sighed and allowed my fingers to tighten into his sleeves. I wanted to ask what would you like to do, but Roderick placed a final kiss on my ear and pulled away. He offered his arm again, and as I took it, he led us further up the lilac path.

At last, we came out of the pathway and into the open end of the garden. Before us, in a circular meadow about fifty feet in diameter, white wooden chairs were set up in six rows, roughly sixty chairs to a row, with an aisle down the middle. I swallowed hard, looking at all the chairs, and nervously gripped my skirt. Jamesina had said it would be a large wedding, and many of Roderick’s clients and friends from Wilton and beyond were invited. But seeing so many chairs, especially when less than a quarter of them would be taken up by my friends and family, was something else entirely. I took a steadying breath as Roderick led me down the aisle, roped off with sheer fabric.

At the end of the aisle stood a large oak tree. Sheer cloths of blue and green were wound about and draped down the lowest hanging branch. To hold the curtains in place on either side was an ornate stone pot holding brilliantly blue morning glories. Their stems were just as bright as the flowers, and I greatly admired them as we stepped up to the altar. Roderick drew my attention away from the decorations as we stepped between the curtains and turned me to face him. He had a bright smile on his face as I looked up into his eyes.

“This time tomorrow, we will be wed, Eleanora,” he said softly. “Can you believe it?”

I shook my head. “These weeks have gone by so fast and yet so slow,” I answered.

Roderick hummed. “I know what you mean,” he said, looking over the chairs. I followed his gaze. Reuel stood several rows back, pretending to find the sheer cloth in the aisle more interesting. I allowed my eyes to take in the sea of wooden seats that seemed to go on for a mile. I wondered if those in the back row could hear the ceremony. My face suddenly felt hot.

“It looks like they just need the finishing touches in the aisle,” Roderick commented as I felt my chest tighten and my stomach turn. I let out a breath through my pursed lips.

“Petals of morning glories and their leaves are going to be scattered about the aisle for you to walk on.” Roderick waved a hand as I felt my heart start an unsteady rhythm. There were so many chairs.

“I imagine you are wondering about all the blue and green, aren’t you, leannan?” I placed a hand over my stomach, barely hearing his words. Dimly, I was aware of Roderick turning to me. “Eleanora?”

“S-so many chairs,” I whispered, feeling my legs weaken. Roderick was quick, and I felt him place a hand on the center of my back.

“Sit down, Eleanora,” he said quietly, gently ushering me to the front row of seats.

In what felt like a blink, I sat down, and my husband-to-be pulled a chair in front of me, holding both my hands. “Do you need water?” Roderick asked, placing a hand on my cheek.

I could not help but press into the comforting gesture and swallow thickly. “Uhm,” I managed.

“Ruel, fetch her some water,” Roderick said, looking over my shoulder.

“Yes, Master Forbes,” he said in a worried tone before I heard his hurrying footsteps retreat.

“Eleanora,” Roderick said, placing his other hand on my face. “Look at me.” I did as he asked, looking into his eyes. “Take a deep breath. In, go on.” I took as deep of a breath in as my corset would allow. “Ease it out slowly.” Through pursed lips, I let the breath out. “Again.”

I returned to myself after four or five breaths to find that I was holding onto Roderick’s sleeves as he looked gently into my face. “Better?” he asked.

I nodded. “I’m sorry,” I managed. “I just—”

“Hush, don’t fret, leannan,” he said softly, letting his thumb stroke my cheek. “It was only your nerves; I can hardly fault you. I am nervous, too.”

“I-I knew it would be a big wedding,” I went on explaining myself. “I just—I didn’t think… there’s going to be so many people.”

Roderick nodded in understanding. “I see. You’ve never seen so many people in one place?” he asked.

“Not ones who will be looking at me…at us,” I swallowed thickly again and made to look around me.

Roderick hummed and shook his head, gently but firmly keeping my head in place. “Don’t look around you again,” he said as my eyes returned to him. “Tomorrow, when you come down the aisle, I want you to focus on me, not the people around you. Just like what you’re doing now, ignoring everyone else will help your nerves.”

“Will it be that easy?” I asked.

He shook his head, a sorry look coming over his handsome features. “No. But I think it will help.”

I nodded, allowed my hands to drop into my lap, and took another deep breath. Roderick leaned back and pulled his hands from my face. He gave me a small smile. “Did you want to hear the story behind the decorations?”

Returning the smile, I nodded and allowed him to take my hands.

Chapter Text

10. The Wedding

In the morning, I was swept up into the bathing room on the second floor. The sun was barely peaking over the horizon, and no curtains were drawn back when Rory dumped me into the steaming bath, all before I had enough wherewithal to throw on a modesty robe. Luckily, we only had to cross the hall and go down a few paces from my door.

My skin was scrubbed until very nearly red, my hair was washed and conditioned with Jamesina’s scented soaps, and I was sat in front of the vanity to wait for my hair to dry and for Rory’s mother, Mary, to retrieve us.

Rory was patting my hair dry in the light of the high bathroom windows as I smoothed over the new silken chemise Roderick had bought. I was running over the vows that Roderick had given me last night, hoping I would remember each word and not stumble over them. I was enjoying the feeling of the silken cloth beneath my skin, whispering the vows to myself once again, when Rory leaned down to whisper in my ear.

“Will you tell me why the blue and green?” she said.

“Hmm?” I asked and looked over my shoulder. I had carefully kept my mind blank to keep my nerves at bay, simply enjoying the fussing of my hair and the feel of the silk.

“My ma and I were asked to find as many bright blues and greens from the gardens as possible. Both for decoration and for your bouquet,” she explained.

I swallowed at the thought of breaking my carefully constructed walls of silence. I took a deep breath and answered: “Roderick’s clan colors are blue and green. And though I didn’t know it at the time, they are the colors of the print on my dress. He wanted things to match us.”

“I see.”

“He said he was going to wear his kilt today,” I continued, allowing the words to spill out of me like an overturned inkwell. “I didn’t realize it was frowned upon even in the Colonies. He mentioned it’s illegal to wear tartan in Scotland. You don’t think he could get into trouble with all the Englishmen invited, do you?”

Rory giggled behind me as she continued to pat my hair dry. I felt my heart pattering against my chest as I thought about it. “That is not for me to know, Ellie. But I would imagine that he knows best about these things as a lawyer.”

I smiled and looked down at my hands. “You’re right, of course,” I admitted, taking another deep breath as a knock came at the door.

“Mistress Kirby?” came Mary’s voice. “We are ready for you now.”

Rory set the towel down and ushered me towards the door. Before I could step outside, she peered around the door and then nodded to me. “The sheets are up.”

I could not help but blush at the implication of walking down the hall in naught but my chemise now that I was fully awake and aware. And especially now that I could hear movement in the house. Other guests were arriving, and the guests that had already arrived over the past few days were now stirring.

I placed my hands over my churning stomach and nodded. Rory opened the door and quickly slipped out to help hold one of the blue sheets. A colored sheet would hide the shadow of my body as I walked, though it was only a few paces. Behind the left-hand sheet, I could hear both men's and women's voices, having gathered to watch the spectacle of the bride getting dressed, even if they couldn’t see me.

I took another deep breath and slipped between the screen of the two sheets, wondering who could be on the other side of the right-hand screen. “Alright, ladies,” came Mary’s voice. “Follow the sound of my footsteps; it’s not far now.”

Mary purposefully made loud footfalls in her heeled shoes as she walked backward toward my room, and the lot of us followed the sound until we came to my door. It stood slightly ajar, and I was quick to hurry inside, hearing the murmuring of the spectators beyond my thin walls. The ladies behind the right-hand sheet hurried in after me, still holding up the fabric, while the ladies on the left followed last and then shut the door. Breathing out a sigh of relief, I saw Jamesina and Glenda both standing in the center of my room waiting for me, each with a welcoming smile. My heart sank to see only the two ladies present and none of my family. I felt the prickle of tears in my eyes; neither my mother nor Nadine were present.

Jamesina, however, made a gesture with her hand, urging me to turn around. Behind me, the ladies behind the right-hand sheet revealed themselves: Charlotte (I expected no less) and: "Annabeth! Ethel!” I gasped, hurrying to my friends.

I grabbed them both and hugged them as tightly as possible. “I didn’t think either of you could make it,” I gasped.

“Lenny is old enough to travel now,” Annabeth replied as I pulled away to look them over. They were all in casual clothes and had not yet dressed for the wedding.

“And Brighton is on his two-month leave,” Ethel said. “The invitation came just as we arrived at my parents.”

I resisted the urge to begin crying. I blinked back my tears as I hugged them both again, each in turn. “Lottie, did you know?” I asked over Ethel’s shoulder.

“I may have had an inkling,” she replied with a grin. “We all may have gone together on a gift.”

“Oh, I am just glad you all are here!” I replied, covering my mouth and again resisting the urge to burst into tears.

Behind me, I heard the clack of Jamesina’s heels against the hardwood floor as she touched my shoulder. “As am I,” she said. “But we all must prepare for the day, so I am afraid you ladies shall have to finish your reunion after the ceremony.”

The four of us nodded to my cousin. Annabeth and Ethel each hugged me before curtseying towards Glenda and Jamesina. “We will see you when you are Missus Forbes, Ellie,” Anna said.

I let out an amused huff and watched as the three of them gave a final wave and slipped out of the door and into the bustle of the now busy hallway.

In the far corner, I noticed that Mary and Rory were busy folding the sheets, but Edith, my new handmaid, and Claire, Glenda’s handmaid, were present. Edith herself was dressed in a bright blue robe and carried over a short stool I would be on as I was dressed and primped.

“Edith, the bodice if you please,” Jamesina said, nodding to the woman dressed in blue.

The dressing began with the plain, cream-colored bodice set perfectly against my body, cinching in my waist and pushing my breasts up high. White stockings followed the bodice, a small pannier, and then a cream-colored petticoat. Edith helped me dress through everything as the other handmaids handed her the next garment. Finally, it was time to don the wedding dress itself.

With the dress on and laced up and the waist cinched tight, Edith helped me from the stool. She helped guide my feet into the soft blue shoes that Roderick had bought to match the irises on the dress. Edith presented me towards Jamesina and Glenda, who stood on either side of an ornate mirror that Rory and Mary had brought from the corner of the room.

I looked over myself and pressed my hands over my stomach, breathing nervously. I was looking more and more like a lawyer’s wife in my own eyes. I fussed over lace cuffs for a moment and swallowed hard. I had no words to say to any of them.

My cousin approached me and cupped my chin in hand. “You look beautiful, my dear,” she said with a watery smile.

“You will make Roderick a lovely bride,” Glenda agreed with a smile.

Jamesina wiped her eyes as she circled me, gathering my hair behind my head. “Missus Pembroke said you looked lovely with your hair tied back with a few locks resting on your shoulders,” she said. “Of course, we will have a small braid for luck, but is that how you would like your hair?”

Breathing deeply once again, I nodded. “I’m sorry I’m so nervous,” I managed in a weak voice.

“Lass,” Glenda said, stepping forward and placing her hands on either of my shoulders. “You’re doing better than I did when I married my Malcolm. I had already fainted by this point and was downing a fifth glass of whiskey.”

Jamesina laughed. “Aye, she was terribly drunk during her nuptials.”

“I was married like a true Scot,” she agreed with a grin. “Though I was not nearly the lady I should have been.”

I gave my soon-to-be sister-in-law a watery smile and exhaled, amused. “I fear I may faint in front of all the guests. I very nearly did when I saw all the chairs yesterday.”

Glenda rubbed my shoulders. “You just focus on Roddy as you walk down that aisle, dear.”

“That helped me,” Jamesina said over my shoulder just as a hard rap on the door made us all jump. With a squeeze of my shoulders, my cousin left to answer the door.

“Mister Forbes asked me to bring this to his bride,” came a familiar voice.

I swallowed hard and looked towards the door in a mild panic. “Thank you, Mister Dunkirk,” Jamesina said, and I could not help but notice the sudden change in her voice. She went from comforting to a sudden coolness of courtesy. “Please tell Mister Forbes we are nearly ready here.”

“I will, Mistress Fernsby,” came the cool reply.

Jamesina closed the door and turned to Glenda and me with a large, flat box in hand, stained with a dark lacquer. The box reminded me sharply of the jewellery box Roderick had presented at the dinner party.

Jamesina gave us a thin-lipped smile as Mister Dunkirk's footsteps belatedly retreated down the hallway. My cousin nodded for me to follow her to the vanity, where she set the box upon the desk as I took my place in the chair she had pulled out. I caught sight of the gold plate that read Eleanora Forbes in fancy engraved letters. I had a fleeting feeling of elation and nervousness. Roderick had certainly taken a liberty to have this box crafted quickly after the proposal.

My cousin opened the box to reveal a red satin field that housed several items. The first was a silver-plated hairpin made into the likeness of a butterfly that shined like the newness of freshly wrought silver. “Something old,” Jamesina said, lifting the hairpin out and handing it to Edith, who, along with Rory, had quietly joined us.

She then pulled out a silver cuff bracelet, also made into the shape of a butterfly in various stages of flight. “Something new,” she said, nodding to me to hold out my left hand. I did so and allowed her to slip the inch-wide cuff onto my wrist.

Next, she pulled out five small hairpins with a green jewel in the center of the wrought flowers. “Something borrowed,” she said, handing the smaller pins to Rory.

Jamesina then took out a blue pendant with a white ivory butterfly in the center. “Something blue.” My cousin handed the pendant to Glenda, who took the time to move my hair and place the pendant against my throat. Then, she hooked the chain behind my neck.

Then Jamesina took out a sixpence. “And a sixpence for your shoe,” she said with a smile.

I couldn’t help but giggle and kick off my left shoe. I took the sixpence and carefully tossed it into my shoe before slipping it back on. As I straightened up, I saw that Jamesina’s face had fallen from a weeping-happy to a look of concern. Before I could ask what the matter was, I noticed it was not me that she was looking at.

I turned and looked up, finding Glenda staring down at me with a blank look on her face. My heart sank. She was going to have another fit. “Glenda, dear,” Jamesina began.

“The maiden in the moon,” Glenda murmured, her eyes locking on mine. “The maiden on the moon is in danger.”

I could not help but let out a gasp as I saw an almost inhumane look in her eyes. Something was uncanny about her glazed eyes and the wildness with which she was beginning to speak. “Glenda?” I asked cautiously.

The woman reached for my shoulders and gripped them hard, causing me to gasp as her nails dug into me. “The maiden in the moon is in danger,” she repeated, her voice becoming louder and more frightening. She pulled me backward against the chair. “The maiden on the moon is in danger!” Her voice became gravelly as she continued to repeat herself, pulling me backward still, causing the bruises on my back to be smart against the backing.

“Glenda, enough, let her go,” Jamesina said, her voice low and demanding.

Glenda continued as Jamesina and Edith each tried to take a hand and pry it off.

“Glenda, please,” said her handmaid, Claire. The woman in bright orange came forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. “It is not the moon that is out.”

The woman’s hands slowly unclenched my shoulders. “The maiden—” she gasped as Claire slowly took her hand.

“The moon is not out,” Claire repeated. Glenda let go of my shoulders and was pulled back a few steps.

Edith stepped behind me, blocking my view of Glenda and breaking our eye contact. My new handmaid rubbed soothing circles on my shoulders where Glenda’s fingers had dug into me. “The moon is not out,” Claire soothed repeatedly, slowly leading Glenda away.

Jamesina turned to Edith and me with a forced smile. “Please, Edith, take care of Eleanora’s hair. I will return shortly.” My cousin then turned briskly and linked arms with Glenda. “Come, love, let’s go see your brother.”

Mary took Glenda’s other arm as Jamesina opened the door, leaving Edith, Rory, and myself alone in my room. We watched as the door closed and the footsteps hurriedly retreated towards the west wing.

“That was frightening,” I muttered.

“Glenda’s fits vary in severity, mistress,” Edith replied as Rory looked between us and the door with wide eyes. “Sometimes it seems as though she sees things that aren’t there.”

I swallowed and nodded. “Will she be alright?”

“Master Forbes and Mistress Fernsby will see to her. Now come, mistress, we must get your hair done up.”

The sun was high in the sky as Edith and Rory walked me down through the garden gate. I felt the heat of the July sun keenly on my face and shoulders as I was led past the creeping juniper, past the peonies and fountain. I took a deep breath as we entered the lilac and juniper path to the meadow. I could hear the mutterings of the guests, and I let out a breath through my pursed lips.

Edith patted my shoulder. “Keep your eyes on Master Forbes,” she whispered.

I nodded and focused my eyes straight ahead. I could barely make out his form at the end of the aisle as he waited for me.

Just before we approached the two juniper trees that marked the end of the path, my father stepped around one, wearing his pine green suit and holding a small bouquet of blue morning glories. The flowers were accompanied by three thistles and a sprig of white heather, bound with a small tartan sash of blue and green. He held his head up, and his face was stern, but I could not see any sign of disdain or hate for me. I swallowed.

Edith and Rory each stopped as I approached my father. “You look like a lawyer’s wife,” he commented quietly. I looked myself over, feeling my hands begin to shake. I cleared my throat, unable to find any words suitable for a reply.

“Here, lass,” he said gruffly, holding out the bouquet. Shakily, I took the flowers, feeling a small chain fall against my hand. As I looked over the stems, I saw a small pendant stamped with the likeness of a rose and an oak leaf. “So, you don’t forget where you came from.”

I swallowed and nodded, feeling tears pricking my eyes. “Come on, now.” My father offered me his arm, and we stepped forward into the aisle as I took it.

The start of the pipers startled me, and I took a breath as I looked around. All the guests had risen from their seats and were staring at me. I held tightly onto the small bouquet and focused my eyes ahead at Roderick.

He was blurred from this far back, and tears in my eyes, but with each step, he drew clearer. Roderick was dressed entirely in Scottish Highland attire. His kilt was deep blue and green tartan, and he wore a matching argyle jacket tailored perfectly to his broad shoulders. His kilt ended just above his knees, and it seemed to wrap around his upper body as well. His light brown hair was pulled back, as was his wont, and he stood with his hands behind his back, waiting for me.

His face, I noticed, was much the same as when I was presented at the dinner party: an awed expression as I came closer. I swallowed hard as my father, and I stopped before Roderick, who offered his hand to me.

I felt like I was moving beneath water as I reached to take his hand. Jamesina stepped forward, dressed in her clan’s colors of red and black, and took the small bouquet from me. Roderick guided me into place before him. I took another deep breath and tried to ignore the heat of the audience's stares.

I was aware of Jamesina standing behind me, and, as I saw, Mister Dunkirk was behind Roderick. I felt my stomach turn in fear, but Roderick squeezed my hand, drawing my eyes back to him just before letting go. It was at that moment that the priest stepped up next to us. Though I should not say priest, for it was Mister Lovelust of the Wilton apothecary who stood between us dressed in a brown suit and his hair brushed and tied back. Mister Lovelust held out his arms, and I was aware of the audience was taking their seats.

“Today, we are gathered here to witness the union of Roderick Nathan Lennox Forbes to Eleanora Rose Kirby,” Lovelust began. “Winds of the East, bless this union with a clear path to the heart…”

The man spoke a blessing over us, one that I had not heard nor could hear through my heart pounding. I resisted the urge to fidget with my skirt as I tried to keep my eyes on Roderick.

“…Winds of the North,” Lovelust continued, “bless this union with fertile ground, hard, unyielding stone for foundation and the stability to see the other as their home..”

Behind me, Jamesina stepped up, and Mister Dunkirk stepped up behind Roderick. Each handed us a small ring. “Eleanora, your vows.”

I swallowed hard and, in a wavering voice that was hardly loud enough for all to hear, began: “I am my own person in body, mind, and soul; but while I wish it, I give you my everything and though I am a free person of mind and will I will allow your heart to command mine and the wine shall taste sweeter by my will.”

Lovelust turned to Roderick, who then began to speak his vows:

“To you I vow to cry only your name aloud in the night and to smile into your heart and soul each morning. To you I give the first bite of my meal and the first sip of my cup I vow to live and die by your heart. To have you by my side hence forth as my lover, my partner, my equal.”

These were all words I had never heard spoken in a wedding vow before, but I could not help but feel the sense of peace that washed over me as he spoke, and I felt the truth in his words as his eyes looked into mine.

Lovelust held out his hands to either of us, and I reached my left hand forward, and Roderick took it to his right. Gingerly, he removed the engagement ring and held it in his hand. “Do you Roderick take Eleanora to be your lover and partner, to be her constant and anchor to our world and to pursue a life of true love with her? To give no question of loyalty and honor? To protect and share in secrets to comfort and grow, to             nurture her in body, mind and spirit??”

“I do,” Roderick replied as he slipped on the wedding ring, followed by the engagement ring again. He winked, letting a small smile of encouragement play on his lips. I could not help the smile that spread across my face.

“Do you Eleanora take Roderick to be your lover and partner, to be his constant and anchor to our world and to pursue a life of true love with him? To give no question of loyalty and honor? To protect and share in secrets to comfort and grow, to nurture him in body, mind and spirit?

I swallowed hard. “I do,” I replied, doing the same to Roderick: removing his engagement ring and sliding the wedding ring into place. But rather than allowing me to place the engagement ring back on his finger, he took it and slid it into his pocket.

Mister Lovelust then took both of our left hands, joined them, and recited:

“These hands are those of your closest friend, young and strong,
linked with yours to form a union of equals.
Together these hands will build a future of dreams in truth and love.
The hands of your partner shall wipe away your tears,
lift your face to the moon and hold you both together until the sky comes down.
These are the hands that will reach for you in the night,
lend you strength when all else seems ill.
These are the hands that will guide you into love and peace in this life and the next.”

Then, Mister Lovelust turned and, from Jamesina, took a long blue and green sash from a box that she presented.

“Roderick and Eleanora, I bid you look into each other’s eyes,” he spoke as I lifted mine to Roderick’s to find that his were already on mine. “Will you both bring honor, loyalty and respect to this union and seek to never break it?

“We will,” we answered in unison. Lovelust laid the sash over our joined hands.

“And here the first binding is made. Will you both seek to ease rather than cause pain and distress?”

“We will.” The sash was wrapped around our hands a second time.

“And here the second binding is made. Will you both seek to share in the good and the bad, to intermingle your spirits in this union?”

“We will.” The sash was wrapped around a third time.

And here the third binding is made. Will you both see to be the cause of the others joy and laughter, bringing the brightness of love to this union?”

“We will.” The sash was wrapped a fourth time.

“And so the binding is made,” Lovelust said, tying the ends of the sash together. “Eleanora and Roderick, your hands are now bound to one another and your spirit s joined in a trusting love as deep as the deepest pools of starlight.

“The moon above holds your oaths and bounds to the sanctity of truth and the earth below provides a foundation to begin building as the sun shines his blessings upon you.

We give you to the world now as Mister and Missus Forbes. You may now embrace your lover.

I felt Roderick’s hand tighten on mine as he stepped forward, nearly pulling me a step closer. With his free hand, he cupped my face and pressed his lips against mine in a firm, almost possessive kiss. Something that was so unlike his previous kisses, his fingers tightened slightly against my face, and then he drew back. The wedding pipers began playing again as Mister Lovelust untied the sash.

When our hands were free, my new husband did not let go of my hand; instead, he let me from the altar and down the aisle. We stopped at the end and took a right turn, going further into the gardens, where the reception was set to take place.

We stopped in front of a long table piled with gifts and well-wishes and turned to face the crowd to come. “You made it through,” Roderick said, turning to me. He placed his hand upon my cheek once again.

“I didn’t look into the audience once,” I admitted.

He gave me a gentle smile that was so different from the greedy kiss he had placed against my lips. “I could tell you were still so nervous. But the hard part is over, I think,” he answered.

I smiled up at him and nodded. I could still feel my hands shaking. “I just need to calm down before everyone gets here.”

“Here,” Roderick said, reaching into the pocket of his argyle jacket. He pulled out yet another mahogany box and opened it before me. “This Lucken booth brooch has been in my family for many years.” He took the brooch out, and I saw it was a pewter pin made in the likeness of two hearts intertwined, topped with a crown. “It symbolizes luck and to ward off mischievous faeries.” He gave me a wry smile as he reached for my left shoulder and pinned it on my gown. “A simple tradition in my family. It is yours now and will soon be worn by our first child.”

I smiled and placed my hand over the brooch. “Thank you. I wish I had something to give to you.”

Roderick placed a finger beneath my chin and tilted my head up. “Don’t worry about that, leannan. I told you I would spoil you.” He placed a kiss against my lips, this time gentle and fleeting.

Around the corner, we heard the voices and footsteps of the guests approaching. Roderick wrapped an arm around my shoulders as we waited to greet them as a married couple.

It took perhaps two hours to greet all the guests, most of whom I did not know. I curtseyed and smiled in thanks to all the congratulatory words and compliments until my face hurt and my feet protested. I waited uneasily to make the acquaintance of my new in-laws outside of Glenda, but no one came through the receiving line introducing themselves as Forbes; in fact, Glenda never came through the line herself.

My family was the last in line, and I still smiled at them whether it was purposeful or not. Nadine, keeping her eyes firmly over my shoulder, bowed to us from Adam’s side and said nothing. Adam muttered a congratulatory comment towards Roderick and reached his hand towards mine to shake.

With such a formal and disinterested greeting, I felt a lump in my throat. I blinked rapidly at the threatening tears. What did I honestly expect from them? I asked myself. They’re glad to see me gone.

My parents stepped up next, and my father put out a hand towards Roderick. “Watch over my lass,” he said gruffly. “She’ll need it. She ain’t used to such high society.”

Roderick shook his hand. “I will always look after her,” he answered, almost coolly.

“May she make you a lovely wife,” he said, turning away from my husband. My mother, however, did not follow suit. Instead, she stepped up to me and pulled me into a hug.

“You remember what I said at your fitting,” she whispered.

Before I could nod or return the embrace, she let go of me and took my father’s arm. My parents joined Adam and Nadine, and the four walked further into the reception.

Roderick turned to me with a soft smile and offered his hand to me. “Let us enjoy ourselves, Missus Forbes,” he whispered as I took his hand.

It was nearing the five o’clock hour, and I was in a small, tight-knit group of friends. I had baby Leonard on my hip, bouncing him as he giggled. I smiled at Annabeth. “He is the sweetest thing,” I said. “I hadn’t realized how big he had gotten.”

“He is almost a year old, Ellie,” she laughed, wiping at something on the babe’s face.

“Well, she had been busy for the past five months,” Ethel said, nudging me with an elbow. “It was a wonderful ceremony, Ell.”

“Very different than what I thought it would be,” Charlotte said across from me. “It must be Scottish in origin?”

Ambrosius hummed. “It’s unlike any Scottish custom I have seen in Charles Town.” He had seen a considerable number of weddings, as before he married into a healer’s family, he made his money by playing the fiddle in a wedding quartet.

“I imagine it is very clan-like; I didn’t have much explained to me,” I answered. “Roderick and Jamesina mentioned many traditions of the sort.”

“Don’t you think that is odd?” Anna said, handing her handkerchief to Arnold, her husband. “That they didn’t explain their traditions to you?”

I shrugged. “I suppose it is, but Roderick was funding the entire thing, so he is allowed his secrets.”

“I just would have thought he would have told you more.”

“Well, he is a busy man.”

“Just so long as he treats her well,” Ethel spoke up from my left. “That is all that matters.” I noticed my friend’s eyes darted over Annabeth’s shoulder. I followed her look to find that her husband Brighton was having a serious talk with none other than Mister Dunkirk, who, to my great surprise, was joined by Mister Rigsby. The old man leaned heavily on his cane as he joined the two men. “I don’t like that Brighton is speaking to that man. He’s been over there for quite some time.”

“That is Mister Dunkirk,” I whispered. “He is a friend of Roderick’s. I don’t like him much either.”

My friends made mutterings of agreement. “Does he always look to be such foul humor?” Charlotte asked, taking a sip of her wine.

“I think that’s just how he looks,” I whispered.

My comment was met with giggles around the circle. “So, Ellie,” Anna said, leaning in. “Lottie tells us there were two men who asked for your hand. Care to tell us about it?”

“Anna!” Charlotte hissed.

“That’s hardly appropriate for a wedding!” Ethel agreed.

“Well, if you want to see him, he just joined Brighton and Mister Dunkirk,” I muttered towards her.

“That… oily old man?” Ethel whispered.

I nodded. “He is horribly mean.” The three of us watched as Rigsby reached into his stained coat, brought out a small booklet, and handed it to Brighton. “That is…curious.”

“Why would he be invited to your wedding, and why would he come after he was spurned?” Anna asked.

I shrugged my shoulders. “He is the richest man in Berkely County. I imagine so he was not any more insulted by me.”

“Well, who knows why the rich do the things they do,” Ethel muttered before turning to me. “You will have to tell us when you learn, Ell.”

I chuckled as we watched the three men disperse from their small group. Brighton walked towards us as Mister Dunkirk eyed the group, his eyes lingering on me in a glare before he turned away. Brighton walked over as if nothing of importance had taken place.

“Evening ladies,” he said, wrapping an arm around Ethel. “Lovely ceremony, Eleanora.”

I smiled. “Thank you.”

“What did that man give you?” Ethel asked immediately.

Brighton looked down at her and arched an eyebrow. “What do you mean, love?”

I withheld a shudder at the name. “That old man, he gave you a small pamphlet.”

“Ah,” Brighton waved a hand. “Just something about his plantation. Nothing of importance. Why are you so curious?”

“Because he is the other man that offered for Ellie,” Annabeth answered.

Brighton nodded. “Yes, he mentioned that. Pity you didn’t take up with the chap; he seems very genuine.”

I scoffed. “You haven’t seen him in a foul mood.”

It was at that moment that footsteps approached us. I looked over my shoulder to see Roderick approach. He placed a hand on my back and smiled at the group. “Good afternoon,” he greeted.

My friends either bowed or curtsied. “It was a beautiful ceremony, Mister Forbes,” Ambrosius said, raising his glass to the two of us.

“Yes, to Mister and Missus Forbes,” Arnold nodded as my friends raised their glasses to myself and my new husband.

“Thank you all very much,” Roderick said with a grin, nodding to them all. “But I am afraid I came to ask to borrow my wife for a time.”

“Of course,” I said as Anna held her hands for Lenny. After I passed the child to his mother, I took Roderick’s arm. With a wave to my friends, Roderick led me away from my group through the crowd.

“You look good with a babe on your hip,” Roderick whispered. I could not help but giggle and color at the comment. “Perhaps soon we shall have one of our own.”

“I would hope after I get used to married life,” I admitted. “This all seems like too much for a baker’s daughter.”

Roderick ran his hand over mine. “You will make a wonderful wife and someday a wonderful mother, leannan.” I smiled and looked toward my feet as we walked. I still wasn’t sure I could keep up with this high society man.

As I glanced back up to see where we were going, Roderick led me to two men. One I immediately recognized. The man’s startling blue eyes darted erratically around the garden, constantly wiping at his shaven chin as if he suspected something was there with one hand. The second man took a swig of whiskey and nudged the other as he took notice of Roderick and me. The man with the erratic movements took notice, raised his glass to us both, and took a pull from his whiskey.

“Eleanora,” Roderick said as we approached the two men. "These are my oldest friends, Elias,” he gestured to the fidgeting man, "and Solomon.” The second man was as tall as Roderick, while the first was nearly my height. Solomon had chestnut brown eyes and dark-colored hair cropped around his head.

“Lovely to meet you, Missus Forbes,” Solomon said.

“Y-yes, it is won-won-wonderful to m-make y-your acq-acquaint-meet you,” Elias finally managed before taking another long drink. His eyes darted quickly between mine and Roderick’s faces.

Roderick tightened his arm against mine as I dipped into a slight curtsey. “It is lovely to meet two of Roderick’s friends,” I said.

Solomon smirked into his glass as Elias grinned at me before his head turned quickly to take in the garden and then turned back so quickly that I feared for his neck. “H-h-how is Gl-Gle-Glenda?” Elias asked.

I looked up at Roderick, wishing to know the same thing. “Still resting. Mistress Fernsby has gone inside to check on her. The doctor thinks the long ride had to do with her fit.”

“Will she be alright?” I asked.

“After a few days, she should be right as rain.”

“I see Rigsby showed up,” Solomon commented, gesturing across the garden.

“Yes, well,” Roderick began stiffly. “He is Dunkirk’s uncle. And the richest man in the county, I couldn’t exclude the man, no matter how distasteful he is.”

Solomon hummed into his glass again. “The letters have stopped, I take it?”

“Yes, but he did have a few select words to say to me this morning when he arrived.” I looked up at Roderick, who gave me a small smile. “But don’t worry, Eleanora. After today we should not see nor hear from him in a long time.”

I wondered suddenly if the stopping of the letters had anything to do with Uilliam’s presence at Deer Run. Rory had told me that her father had been a boxer in Innes’s gambles in his youth. That is how he met his wife, Mary. As curious as I was, I kept my question to myself and allowed Roderick to continue his conversation with his friends, though I could not help my eyes straying in search of any of my friends.

The sun was setting as Roderick and I led the way through the house, followed closely by our friends and a few scattered family members. Glenda had come out of bed for the farewell, and Nadine had managed to slip away from my father and Adam to walk us out with Charlotte and Ethel.

We went arm in arm through the entrance hall and out the doors. The orange light spilled in through the opened door as we marched down the stairs to his waiting chaise. Reuel sat in the driver’s chair in the lead carriage while Ronald, John, and Edith sat in a cart loaded with my luggage and the gifts and well wishes from the guests.

Fireflies danced in the twilight as a warm wind blew up. We were going home. To my new life as a married woman. As a lawyer’s wife.

We paused at the drive as Roderick walked forward and opened the carriage door. He held his hand out to me as I lifted the skirt of my dress above my shoes and carefully climbed into the chaise.

“Bye, Ellie!” called Annabeth from the crowd.

“See you later, Ell!” called Charlotte.

I turned at the door, gave a final grin, and waved to my friends before taking a seat on the bolstered purple cushion. I found that the gifts we had gotten each other were on either seat against the wall, and the lanterns on the hooks were lit. Roderick himself called out a farewell and climbed in after me. With the door closed, Roderick sat himself opposite me, and the carriage jerked into motion.

Roderick sighed and leaned back against the cushions on his side. “It has been a long day,” he sighed. “But a lovely one.”

“I have never been to such a long reception,” I agreed.

Roderick gave a tired grin. “Shall we exchange gifts and use the long ride to Deer Run to rest?”

I nodded. “Who shall go first?”

Roderick gave a bashful smile as he lifted the long, thin box next to him. “I have been excited to give you this since our trip to Wilton. Would you mind if I went first?”

I shook my head and adjusted in my seat with a smile. Like many of Roderick’s fine things, the box was made of mahogany. There were gold hinges and a gold lock, and on a small plaque on the lid read my new name: Eleanora Forbes. I would have thought it was the same as the box I had been given that morning if, when he opened it, I saw that rather than a field of red satin, I saw purple velvet.

Upon the velvet field were several jeweled items. My eyes landed on a thistle necklace, much like Roderick’s brooch, with a deep purple gem in the center of the flower. Next was a butterfly-shaped hairpin decorated with blue gems and made wrought swirls in the wings. There was a set of smaller bejeweled pins, a string of pearls, and a jewel-encrusted bracelet in the shape of a fluttering butterfly, which seemed to match the one I already wore.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding. “All of this for me?” I whispered.

Roderick reached out a hand and touched my cheek. “All for my pretty butterfly.”

I swallowed and withheld the urge to turn it away, to say it was too much for the likes of me. I was still just a baker’s daughter. “They’re all so beautiful,” I managed, watching the jewels sparkle in the flickering candlelight. “But,” I looked at my parchment-bound gift. “My gift to you is nothing compared to this.”

Roderick closed the box and shook his head. “I will love it, whatever it is,” he promised, setting the box down.

I smiled thinly, unsure if he would still mean it when he saw the journal. I took a deep breath as I handed him the gift, and I could tell he already suspected what it was. Carefully, he unwrapped the parchment and a grin spread. “A thistle journal,” he said, looking up at me. His smile met his eyes. “I do love it, leannan. It is perfect.”

It was my turn to give him a bashful smile. “Come here,” he said, moving the jewelry box to the empty space beside me.

Carefully, I stood and joined him on his seat as he wrapped an arm around me. “Rest for a while, Eleanora,” he said softly, pulling me against his chest. “There is still much to do.”

I swallowed hard, knowing what he was referring to. Before the night was over, I would no longer be a maiden.

Chapter Text

11. Mrs. Forbes

The hum of the summer insects met my ears as my new husband helped me down the carriage steps. I took a deep breath as I looked at my new home in the light of a full moon. Roderick took a moment to retrieve our gifts to each other and stepped up next to me, the gifts under one arm. He wrapped his other arm around my shoulders, and together, we walked towards our home.

Edith was the one who unlocked and opened the doors, but she stepped aside, allowing us the first entrance. “After you, Missus Forbes,” Roderick whispered, gesturing for me to enter the candlelit entryway.

Clasping my hands before me, I stepped into my new home and looked around the dim room. Roderick entered after me, followed by Edith and Ronald. “Before you retire, Ronald, would you put on a kettle?”

“Aye, sir,” was the answer, and the man strode off through the entryway to the kitchen behind the stairs.

“Follow Edith, leannan. I will be up shortly,” Roderick whispered.

I looked toward my handmaid, who was looking at me expectantly. Steeling my nerves, I began my ascent with Edith, following with a candle in hand. Below me, I heard Roderick unlock his office. Glancing over the railing, I saw him enter the room and disappear behind the closed door. I pushed my curiosity away and focused on placing one foot in front of the other.

This was not the first time I was alone with Roderick, but the first time I was alone with him as his wife. I placed my hands over my stomach as I exited onto the second floor. Edith stepped forward, silently beckoning me to follow her to the right—toward Roderick’s room.

Inside the master bedroom, I was greeted with splashes of blue and green and tapestries of florals and exotic birds. Ornate, floral cushions, and furniture were huddled around the hearth that Edith was now tending, building up the banked fire. My mouth was dry as the implications of being in this room ran through my mind.

A beautiful blue bed-round wrapped beneath the mahogany bed sat against the far wall between two large windows. To my left was a large, beautifully painted French screen; purple thistles and heather decorated the panels, and it was beautifully crafted white wood. Against the wall near the door was a white vanity, a new mirror leaned against the wall, with brushes from use in hair to use on clothing organized on the top.

“Mistress,” Edith said, stepping up next to me. “I am to help prepare you for the evening. Master Forbes has a new nightgown for you hanging on the dressing screen.” My stomach turned at the words, and I glanced nervously towards the bed. “Come, we will start with your hair, Mistress.”

Edith guided me towards the vanity and sat me down. I wondered momentarily what she would do or say if she saw the bruises as she helped me into the new gown. I swallowed. “I-I know it is what Roderick expects of you, but… I would feel more comfortable dressing myself.”

In the mirror, I watched Edith’s face fall into a look of questioning. “It’s just where I come from…and I am already so nervous…and…”

The woman placed a hand on my shoulder. “I understand Mistress. When you are ready.”

I breathed out a slow breath and nodded. “Thank you.”

Edith gave me a small smile in the mirror, though there was an underlying knowledge behind the reasoning of my request. I shifted in the seat and chose to ignore the look for now. If Roderick didn’t see tonight, I imagined I would have to eventually tell him. But I hoped it would be a long way off.

Edith’s hands were gentle and skilled as she released the jade pins from my hair. She placed them in a brightly painted box in the far corner with red magnolias on the lid. “Do you know who lent me the hairpins?” I asked into the silence, broken only by the gentle crackling of the fire.

Edith smiled. “They are mine, Mistress. Master Forbes asked if I had anything I would be willing to lend to you.”

“They’re beautiful.”

“Thank you, Mistress. My grandparents brought them over from Malaya. Well, I suppose the proper term would be smuggled.”

“Where are they now?” I asked as Edith removed the final pin.

“They work for Master Forbes’s parents at Claredown Manor.” Edith unhooked the butterfly pin and let my hair tumble down my shoulders.

“His parents weren’t at the wedding,” I commented quietly.

“The elder Master and Mistress Forbes are set in their ways. Perhaps they will invite you and Master Forbes to dinner soon,” Edith said as she began to unbraid the lock of hair she had done that morning.

I was left wondering at the answer for a moment when Edith began to uncinch the waist of the wedding dress. I stood and allowed the dress to slide off my form, crossing my arms over my chest as I stepped out of the skirt.

Edith made quick work of the pannier and loosened the bodice until I could slide out of it alone. Just as I hurried behind the dressing screen, there was a knock on the door before it slowly opened. “Everything alright in here?” Roderick asked, entering the room with a light clinking.

“Yes, just changing,” I managed as I slid out of the bodice and silken chemise. I was aware of Roderick setting a tray on the coffee table near the fire.

Behind the screen was a long oval mirror studded to the wall. I turned my back to the mirror and looked over the mottled bruises. I let out a soft breath. The bruises no longer hurt but were still present, and some refused to fade. I had to be careful of Roderick not seeing them tonight, for I had never told him of what my father had done. I let my hair fall back down, hiding most of the marks. I can do this.

I held out the garments I had worn to Edith, and my handmaid gathered them from me, gently placing them over her arm in a large bundle. My stomach turned with nerves as I gathered the soft linen from its wooden hanger. Carefully, I slipped into a soft cotton nightgown as Edith bowed out of the room. “Good night, Master and Mistress Forbes.”

“Good night,” I managed shakily, fiddling with the skirt and looking at myself in the mirror. I turned first one way and then another. The shadow of my body could be seen even if I stood still. I swallowed hard.

My husband called a good evening to my handmaid before I heard him turn towards the dressing screen I hid behind. “Are you well, leannan?” Roderick asked from the other side of the screen, seemingly aware of my stalling.

He had promised that after the duty of the married couple on the wedding night, I would be allowed to stay in my own room if I wished. We had to abide by the law, or the marriage would be annulled; this was such a common law that even I knew of it, but it still seemed like a tall order to keep the man from seeing my back. I pulled my hair from the gown and took a steadying breath, placing a hand over my roiling stomach. 

I swallowed hard. “Y-yes,” I responded, slowly stepping from behind the French screen. I wrapped my arms around myself, very much aware of the new white linen I wore.

Standing cowardly near the screen, Roderick smiled at me before turning his back. He had already undressed and was in a long night shirt of his own. He folded his kilt and laid it gently upon his dresser along the far wall. I took the time to part my hair, covered the shadows of my breasts, and folded my hands over my front, although he had seen and felt both areas before.

His nightshirt fell just over his thighs, and his thick, hairy legs were very bare, and I was quite aware of the tension in the room. I took another shaky breath. After this night, I would no longer be pure, and I would be a woman.

Having put away his kilt, Roderick turned to me and gave me another gentle smile, offering his hand. “Come, m’eudail.” His voice was soft, with no trace of demand.

Cautiously, I left the screen's safety and crossed the room, letting my hand slide into his. He wrapped his other arm around my shoulders and guided me to the floral cushioned divan in front of the fire. In front of me was a beautifully painted thistle tea set with two steaming cups waiting for us.

“I am not about to force myself upon you.” He slowly slid down and sat on his knees in front of me. “I wish you to want this as much as I do, aye?” I nodded once, and he smiled. “You had seemed receptive before; I had hoped you would be just as willing tonight.”

I opened my mouth a few times to speak, but the words caught in my throat each time. I needed a drink of water. “But the wedding night has far more pressure, is that it?”

I sighed in relief that he understood my thoughts, though I could not put them into words. “Yes. I’m so sorry.” I closed my tearful eyes and took a steadying breath. Everything seemed to ride on this one night.

Roderick took my hands in his, running his thumbs over the backs of mine. “Do not be sorry, Eleanora; being nervous is a natural feeling.” He placed a kiss on either hand.

I opened my eyes to find him looking into mine. “Are you nervous?” I asked.

Roderick smiled. “I am, but not as nervous as you, I think,” he replied softly. “We have hours; this does not need to happen immediately.”

I nodded, feeling some of the pressure release from my chest. He released my hands and stood. “Perhaps Horace’s gift to you will help calm your nerves.” From an ornate plate on his dresser, he selected a tiny vial, the same that had been gifted to me weeks ago. It was kept company by other bottles of parfum of varying sizes. He returned to the position on his knees and unstopped the glass. The scent of lavender slowly wafted from the vial, and I took a deep breath, feeling muscles relax and my stomach slowly unclench.

“Here,” he said softly, upsetting the vial against a finger.

He took one of my arms and slowly ran his finger along the inside of my wrist, first on one, then on the other. I felt excited at his gentle touch and let out a soft sigh. He turned my left wrist over, kissing my new wedding band. His lips traveled up my forearm to my elbow before he placed my arm back into my lap.

Turning to the coffee table, Roderick traded the lavender vial for the two cups of tea. Sitting next to me on the couch, he handed one to me, and I took a cautious sip. Chamomile and something else, something foreign that held a sweet and earthy taste. “I can taste chamomile, but what is the other flavor?” I asked, taking another sip as he watched.

“Saffron,” he answered. “It was my gift from Horace. It comes all the way from India.”

I was beginning to relax as we sipped the tea in silence for several moments, my nerves calming to the point where I was starting to forget about them. “You said leannan means sweetheart,” I began, looking over the painted cup. “What does m’eudail mean?”

Roderick smiled as he drained his small cup. “It could also translate to sweetheart, but it is closer to my dear or my darling,” he answered. I nodded and also drained my cup as he continued to watch me. “Would you prefer I not call you either of those? I should have asked long ago but had not thought to.”

I shook my head, and our eyes met. “I don’t mind either of them,” I answered, smiling. “Both are still much better than girl.”

Roderick let out a deep laugh, and I found that I liked it very much to hear a true laugh from him. I felt my anxiety melt away and joined in with a slight giggle. Taking my cup from me, still chuckling, Roderick placed the emptied cups back on the side table.

“Oh, mo chridhe, tha mi gas iarraidh gu dona,” he sighed, touching my face. He leaned in close to me.

“What does that mean?” I asked, aware he was beginning to move the evening forward. Having laughed away some nervous energy, I felt a prickle of excitement as I looked into his pale green eyes.

He chuckled lightly, breathing sweetened breath into my face. My heart sped up as his nose touched mine. “That’s a secret, m’eudail,” he answered softly. He placed a hand on my cheek and pressed his lips against mine.

I sighed against him, relishing the feeling. His lips massaged against mine as an arm wrapped around me to pull me close. His other hand slid to my neck and through my hair. I gasped as the hand trailed down my back, tickling every nerve down my spine, glad that the only evidence left of my beating was visual. My back arched against his touch, and he pulled away to look at me. I shook my head. “Don’t stop.”

Roderick’s lips curled into a charming smirk, and he adjusted, pulling me so close that our chests were nearly touching. His lips met mine again, and I could tell something had changed, if slightly. His kisses were greedier and harder, and I found that I didn’t mind. My hands pressed against his chest, feeling the broad, strong muscle beneath his shirt. Roderick grunted as my hands slid against him, enjoying the rigid feel of him beneath the soft cotton.

One of his strong arms wrapped around my lower back, and he broke our lips apart. “I’m going to lay you down, Eleanora,” he whispered. He waited for my nod, and, with much ease, he lifted my body and adjusted me so I was comfortably lying against the arm of the divan. One of Roderick’s arms was around my shoulders, his thumb stroking my cheek, while the other held my hip as he lay beside me. He leaned over me for a kiss, and I stayed an urge to lift my leg up to run against his, for I felt the position called for it; instead, I allowed both my hands to cup my new husband’s face. “How are you faring, mo gràdh?” he whispered.

“Very well,” I sighed, pulling his face towards mine and placing my lips against his. I felt a tingle of excitement between my thighs as we kissed, his hand massaging the muscle at my hip as if he knew I felt the urge to wrap my legs around him.

He grunted into my mouth as I stayed my urge once again, and he pulled away only to watch his hand slide up my body from my hip. His hand followed the flat planes of my stomach and up to the curves of my breasts. Letting out a sigh, he cupped my bosom, the cotton tickling the tips of my breasts. Roderick leaned his face against mine, running his tongue along the shell of my ear, his hot breath making my heart race. I couldn’t help a slight moan as his teeth nibbled my earlobe, and his hand smoothed and massaged my breast. Roderick grunted as my nipple hardened against the palm of his hand from the attention. The tingling between my thighs was growing to an ache for him.

I let out a soft moan and rubbed my legs together as my head lolled into the crook of his neck.

“Do you like this?” he asked, his hand sliding from my breast up to my neck to cup my cheek and then back down.

I whimpered as his hand massaged my breast, nodding. “Very much,” I managed.

“I’m glad,” he said with a smile as his hand strayed to the laces of the dressing gown. “May I?” He pulled gently at the bow I had tied.

I nodded, and slowly, he undid the bow and slid his hand beneath the gown. His rough hand cupped the softness of my bosom as he leaned over me for a kiss. As his lips met mine, his thumb circled my nipple, and a fire ignited in my core, and I very nearly wrapped my legs around him. I cupped his cheek and pulled slightly away. “Do you want to see?” I asked in a heavy voice I did not recognize.

Roderick groaned. “Verra much,” he whispered.

He straightened up and gently opened the dressing gown until both my breasts were revealed to the warm air of the room. He looked me over, gasping as his fingers touched the pointed tops of my breasts. I sighed as his hand slowly and skillfully pulled the shoulders of the gown off me, and he guided each of my arms out of the sleeves, tugging the dress down until it covered only my hips.

“Dia gu h-àrd,” he gasped, looking my body over, his free hand running fingertips over my skin, leaving a burning, pleasurable sensation behind. “You are beautiful.”

I looked down over myself, having never found my nakedness as anything more than dirty and certainly not something to be marveled at. But Roderick traced the lines of my body with gentle fingertips as if he was memorizing every freckle upon my skin, every scar from childhood. Unlike our first excursion on his bed at Cedar Hall, he took his time now. His fingertips trailed back up to my face, gently touching my cheek, then my brows. There was more in his touches than just lust for me; there was something in the gentleness that made me feel warm, safe, and…relaxed. I allowed my fingers to touch his lips as he looked me over. 

Roderick kissed my fingertips before gently kissing my cheeks, forehead, and lips. His warm lips massaged against mine for a long moment before his tongue flitted over my lips. Knowing what he was asking, I parted my lips for him, and our tongues mingled as his free hand traced my arm. My fingertips dug into his shirt as his kisses hardened into something more passionate. I moaned into him as his tongue licked the roof of my mouth. I pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt, feeling a full ach in my breasts, longing for touch.

He pulled away with a groan. “May I indulge myself in your breasts?” he whispered, allowing his hand to drift between us and tickle the tip of my breast. I nodded, wishing for the heat of his palm. “I want you to do whatever feels right to you. Dinea be shy.”

His accent thickened in arousal, and he leaned over me, his mouth engulfing my breast. My eyes closed as I relished the feeling of his lips massaging into the softness of my breast. My hands strayed of their own accord; one hand found the back of Roderick’s head, and the other gripped the back of his nightshirt. I moaned as he suckled on my breast, letting his tongue lap against my pearled nipple.

Roderick moaned into my skin as another feeling flooded my veins, and I gave in to the primal feeling and opened my legs, allowing one to creep over his hips. He reacted quickly, tightening his hold on me and pressing himself against me. On top of my thigh, I felt his bulge once again. A bulge that seemed harder, thicker, and more defined than before. His tongue flicked my nipple, and my body reacted accordingly, tightening around and against him. I felt the wetness between my thighs slide from me, and I withheld a moan.

Roderick pulled away with a gasp, his groping hand sliding down my side and lifting my hips, pulling the nightgown off me entirely. Enjoying the feel of his hand along the lower half of my body, I aided him by pulling my legs out of the skirt, and he tossed the linen to the floor. It was then that I realized I was fully naked beneath him. A shyness began to creep into me again, and as I was about to attempt to cover my lower half, Roderick ran his hand up my leg and over my body again, muttering in Gaelic. Though I couldn’t understand, his words seemed to have the desired effect, for I relaxed into the cushions again, feeling that this man was appreciating what he was looking at. His eyes danced over my pale skin, and I felt that strange feeling from him of more than just lust.

He looked up at me as I relaxed. “I’m going to touch you,” he whispered.

I nodded as his fingers danced over my body as I relaxed my legs, spreading them slightly. He groaned as his fingers found the downy mound between my legs. Slowly, he slid his fingers through the hair and touched my bud, making me gasp and quiver. He let out an amused breath, his middle finger dancing around, pushing and rubbing. I gritted my teeth and let out a moan, gripping his arm. “Do you want me to stop?” he whispered, pausing his movements.

I shook my head, enjoying the lighting feel of his touch. “No. No, it feels good,” I gasped. Roderick allowed his fingers to return to their slow movements.

He sighed and leaned over me, kissing my lips hungrily as his finger massaged against me. I moaned into his lips as his finger increased in speed and pressure. I gripped his shirt sleeves and pulled away from his lips with a gasp. “Right there?” he whispered.

I moaned an affirmative answer, and his pressure and speed increased again. A lightning pleasure was building between my thighs as I adjusted, my hips beginning to follow his movements. My back arched. “Ah, not yet,” he tsked, stopping his movements and sliding his fingers further down me, sliding into the slickness that spilled between my thighs.

I gasped as the first finger entered me. “My, your honey pot is quite full.” I could only groan in response as his finger stroked my inner walls.

He watched me as his finger slid in, then out of me. I relaxed against the arm of the divan, relishing the feel of him as he pulled back out and slid in a second finger. I adjusted with a sigh, our eyes meeting. “Do you like this?”

“Yes,” I managed through his stroking. He held a smirk as I looked up at him, mouth agape. His fingers danced around inside of me, and then he pulled out and slid in a third finger. I felt a pleasurable stretch between my legs and gasped as I felt my wetness slide out of me as his fingers worked. My head lolled against the arm of the couch, and I arched my back in pleasure. Roderick groaned deep in his throat, and his mouth latched onto my breast again.

The rest of his hand cupped my loins as his fingers stroked, and his mouth sucked on my nipple. I let out another moan, feeling a fire coursing through me. Yes, I liked it very much.

After several minutes of the pleasurable stroking and my hips undulating in time with his fingers, Roderick removed his hand from my loins. Before I could protest, he whispered into my ear. “Fair is fair.”

He took my hand in his and guided me to his loins. He lifted his nightshirt and revealed how hard he was, red and swollen with arousal. He guided my hand first to his full balls, where he urged me to massage him and then to his shaft. I wrapped a gentle fist around him, again marveling that my middle finger and thumb could barely touch. He guided my hand in an up-and-down fashion, grunting as he guided me to squeeze him a little harder. I sighed and took over the motion on my own.

“What do you think?” he muttered as we watched my hand. A pearl of moisture formed on his tip, and my hand spread the arousal over his cock.

“It’s big,” I said, watching my hand rub him. He gave a prideful chuckle. “H-how will it not hurt me?”

He groaned. “That’s why I am doing everything I am doing… Eleanora.” He groaned my name and guided my hand along faster. “The last thing I want is to hurt you. The wetter you are, the less it’ll hurt.”

“Will it feel like your fingers?” I asked.

He chuckled, and I nuzzled his chest. “I imagine it’ll feel better.”

I nodded and continued to pump my hand against him. He groaned and slid his hand to my face, coupling our lips once again. Our tongues mingled as I rubbed his shaft between us, moving faster then slower, then paying particular attention to his tip. His cock throbbed and continued to bead with arousal. I could feel Roderick’s heart hammering against his chest when he finally pulled away from me.

“I want to take you to bed,” he groaned, hanging his head over me.

I left his cock and cupped his face. “Okay,” I managed, kissing his lips in a deep want for him to press his entire body against me.

Roderick hummed as he rolled off me and sat up, pulling his nightshirt from his body and tossing it onto the floor. His shoulders were broad and bulging with muscle I did not know he had. A smattering of light brown hair across his chest drew my eye. He bent at the waist, and before I could move, he scooped me up. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he straightened, looking into his pale green eyes. I could feel my heart race as he looked back at me with a want for me and only me. He began to move forward, quickly crossing the ten feet to the bed, and gently, he laid me down. As he climbed over the top of me, I spread my legs about him.

Settling over me, Roderick pressed his manhood against my loins, wrenching a gasp from me as his hardness pressed against my bud. It just felt right, the way he moved his hips against mine, spreading the nectar between my thighs. I sighed and lolled my head against the pillows as Roderick held himself above me, pressing himself harder against me.

Groaning, Roderick stopped his movements. “Are you ready?” he asked, and I could feel him positioning himself, nudging my legs wider.

“Yes,” I said, my hands straying to grip his forearms.

Slowly, gently, I felt him enter me. There was an abundance of pressure inside of me as he continued to slide himself in, inch by inch. I felt a sharp pain as my sheath stretched around him, and I gritted my teeth, withholding the urge to ask him to stop. But he was slow and gentle as he pushed further inside, stopping when my nails dug into him, then only continuing when I relaxed once again. This went on until I felt him hit the back of me. I looked down to find that he was entirely inside of me, my legs wrapped around his hips.

Roderick moaned and settled over me as I gripped his arms, the pressure and pain slowly becoming pleasurable. His mouth found mine, and he gave me a deep kiss, relaxing himself over me. I hooked my legs behind his hips and cupped his face as he kissed me.

Roderick pulled away, glancing to where we were joined, looking mighty pleased with himself, his hips pressing against mine. His eyes slid back to mine, and he adjusted his position slightly. I gasped as I felt a fullness of pleasure in my core. “Does it still hurt?” he whispered.

I shook my head. “It feels good.”

Slowly, Roderick began to rock his hips against mine. I pressed my lips together and whimpered at the increasing pleasure. My husband gasped and rocked just a little harder.

“Is this better than my fingers?” he asked as he pulled out slightly and pushed back in. I moaned and arched my back slightly.

“Yes,” I gasped. “Please…don’t stop.”

Groaning deep in his throat, Roderick adjusted and rocked his hips a little harder as a hand strayed over my body, gripping and groping until he came to my thigh. He widened my legs and hitched my knee higher over his hip. He looked at me as he did this, relishing the moaning and squirming I did. My nails dug into his arms as he jerked into me, wrenching a gasp from my throat.

“Do you want to climax?” he managed, holding my thigh in place.

I gripped his shoulders, thrusting my chest forward in pleasure. “Yes,” I managed.

Roderick rasped as he slowly increased his speed; he let go of my leg and slid both of his arms beneath me. He coupled our lips once as he humped me before burying his face into my neck. I reciprocated the action, breathing in his scent as he jerked his hips against me, my hands tightening on his shoulders.

A flickering light ran through me as he thrust into me, and I squirmed, gasped, and moaned. My breath caught in my throat as the feeling intensified. I made an almost primal sound as I hit a fever pitch, my back arching and my body tightening around Roderick’s in every way imaginable. Roderick gave one hard final thrust and gave his own guttural groan. I felt his member throbbing hard inside me, and I knew then that he had finished. My loins tightened around him to know I had brought him to his own climax.

He stayed within me, breathing hard until my body relaxed. In a slightly higher-pitched voice, I assumed he muttered something in Gaelic, for my brain could not register the words. I looked up at him, panting as he removed himself, collapsing next to me on the bed.

His chest was heaving as much as mine. I swallowed hard and wished to roll over into his arms, to feel his gasping breaths, the rapid beat of his heart, to smell the scent of us. And just as that dirty and used feeling was beginning to worm its way up my spine, Roderick rolled his head to look over at me, and he tossed out his arm.

“Come to me, mo gràdh,” he said. I smiled in relief and quickly curled into his chest, resting my head on his shoulder. His arms engulfed me in an embrace, and I could feel his heart pounding, feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

“What did you think?” Roderick asked after both our breaths had steadied. “Did I hurt you at all?”

“There was a lot of pressure at first,” I began. “But no, it didn’t hurt much at first…is it bad of me if I liked it?”

Roderick chuckled. “No, my love,” he said, cupping my cheek with one hand and stroking my shoulder with the other. “No, it is not. That is how it ought to be.” He placed a loving kiss on my forehead.

I smiled. “Good, because I think… I think I would like to do it again.”

There was another laugh. “You tease me.”

I looked up at him in confusion. “Not at all,” I answered, almost hurt that he would think I would lie.

He sat up, gently letting me fall back into the pillows. “You want me to make love to you again?” he verified.

“Is—is that not supposed to happen?” I asked, covering my breasts with my hands, afraid I was wrong about it.

He opened his mouth a few times before he smiled. “It’s not what I anticipated for the wedding night, but I would happily oblige you.”

With an exchange of smiles, Roderick rolled on top of me, and with his arms wrapped tightly around me, he entered me again, pushing me to a climax a second time in a tangle of limbs and hot breaths.

When I awoke, I was still wrapped in Roderick’s arms, his heart beating in a slow, steady rhythm. The sun shone through the curtains, and I thought it was late morning. Against my shoulder, I felt Roderick’s finger drawing circles as his other hand lay behind his head. I looked up at him as he met my eyes with a gentle smile.

“Good morning, leannan,” he said in a voice husky from sleep.

“Good morning,” I replied, resting a hand against his chest.

“Did you sleep well?”

“I did,” I admitted, noting that I felt well-rested and a deep sense of satisfaction was in me, though there was a dull ache between my thighs. Roderick took me in, smiling as he stroked my tangled hair. Where he had gripped me in the throes of passion last night as he pumped us both into ecstasy for the second time. I still felt the slickness of us both between my legs.

Roderick hummed and kissed my forehead. “I’m glad. But,” he said, sitting up and helping me into a sitting position. “I think it’s time for breakfast, I’m starved.”

I covered my chest on instinct as we both sat in bed. “What would you like?” he asked, an amused smile playing on his lips as he watched me cover up with the soft, satin sheet.

Right, we had made love; he had seen every part of me last night and heard the guttural sounds I made in climax. But I still held on to the comfort the sheet brought me. I felt that used feeling creep across my shoulders and down my spine again. “Whatever is on hand,” I replied, trying to push the feeling away, and I returned his smile.

He chuckled and slid a hand to my cheek. “Whatever is handy,” he repeated, kissing my cheek once, twice, and then a third time. I giggled, and the used feeling lessened. With a grin, Roderick threw his legs over the edge of the bed. “You wash up, and I will make us breakfast.”

He retrieved a pair of trousers from his dresser, sliding them on quickly. “I didn’t know you could cook,” I said.

I winced at my words to Roderick, but he chuckled. “I cook breakfast for myself most mornings,” he said kindly. “Go ahead and take your time. I will call you when I’ve finished cooking. The Tankens will arrive late today.”

I smiled as he slung a shirt over his shoulders and made to crawl out of bed. Turning my back to him, I let the sheet fall around my back onto the bed. I felt Roderick’s eyes on me and then felt the mood of the room change from calm and satisfied to tense and angry. “What’s this?” he said in a low voice, approaching the bed.

Chapter Text

12. Decisions

Quickly, I gathered the sheet around myself again as I heard Roderick’s quick footsteps approach the bed. My breath quickened, and I tensed, waiting for a strike, a yell, a touch of something. I winced as Roderick sat heavily on the bed next to me, and my breathing quickened as he leaned backward, moving my hair off of my back.

“O, mo dhealain-dè, dè thachair?” he whispered, his fingertips brushing a bruise. “Who did this, Eleanora? Was it your father?” 

“Yes,” I managed with a nod.

He pushed my hair over my shoulder out of his line of sight. “Do these hurt? Did I cause you any pain last night?”

I shook my head. “No,” I said, my voice breaking. “No, they don’t, and you didn’t.” 

Roderick sighed and sat back up, pushing my hair from my face. “Why did you not tell me?” his voice was low but gentle, something I couldn’t read.  

I swallowed hard but couldn’t bring myself to look at him. “I—I had hoped they would be gone…I wanted to leave all of this behind me in Charles Town.” I shook my head. This man wouldn’t believe a word I said. “I didn’t want to bring this to my new life.”

The man next to me let out another sigh and stood up, going to the trunk at the foot of the bed. I couldn’t bear to look over my shoulder to see what he was searching for. Blood pounded in my ears as I heard the trunk close, followed by a snap from behind me. I tensed again, digging my nails into my palms.

Roderick approached and stopped in front of me. I closed my eyes tightly, waiting to be ordered to get up, to be grabbed by my hair or arm. I felt him lean over me, and I could not withhold a flinch.

I felt him pause for a moment, then proceed to wrap a quilt over my shoulders. I opened my eyes, shocked to see the green and blue fabric around me. I swallowed hard. The gesture of comfort was so foreign to me that I could not help my stomach turn, and my limbs began to shake. This couldn’t be his genuine reaction. I had insulted him by not telling him, especially after we vowed to share secrets. He had to be furious with me.

Feeling my trembling, Roderick tightened the quilt in front of me and sank to his knees before the bed. “Eleanora, look at me,” he whispered, reaching into the quilt and taking my hands. “Please, look at me.”

Tears blurred my vision as I met his eyes. “I’m sorry, I-I was embarrassed. I-I—”

“Hush, now,” Roderick whispered, drawing my hands to his lips. His soft green eyes looked up into mine. “I want you to trust me, Eleanora, as your husband; you have my word—my word—that I will not raise a hand to you. You do not have to fear me. Aye?”

After a moment, I nodded and sniffled, as tears began to fall from my eyes. Roderick squeezed my hands. “In my vows yesterday, I told you that this is a marriage of equals—you are not my property, but my equal, Eleanora and you will be treated as such. Will you tell me why he did this?”

The night I returned from Cedar Hall flashed in my mind. Of being dragged up the stairs, the ripping of my dress, the terrible humiliation my father subjected me to. My stomach turned dangerously, and I pulled a hand away from Roderick to cover my mouth as I felt the urge to gag.

Roderick nodded and pulled the quilt tighter around me. “In your own time,” he nodded. “It’s still fresh, I see. I will make you breakfast, like I said.”

“I’m so sorry, Roderick,” I whispered.

He nodded and cupped my face. “Wash up, get dressed, and then come down to eat, m’eudail.”

I nodded. Roderick stood up and touched my shoulders as he kissed my forehead. I watched as he left the room, tucking in his shirt. I allowed my dangerously thin resolve to break as he slipped out of the door. I covered my face and sobbed into my hands, hoping I had not just ruined my marriage.

I took my time to wash up at the stand in the far corner, scrubbing the tears from my face, and with a sinking, filthy feeling, I cleaned myself thoroughly. I dressed in my nightgown and hurried down to the room I had stayed in my first night here. In the clothing press, I removed the wine-colored gown he had bought for the dinner party to discuss the wedding. Roderick at least deserved the truth; whatever he decided to do with me, he had spent so much money on me.

I dressed myself and pinned my hair back with my new hairpin. I had to prove to Roderick that I wanted to be his wife and that I wanted to keep my secret because I didn’t want him to worry about me. I hoped to heaven that he believed me.

I also selected the thistle necklace from my new jewelry box. I looked myself over and decided I was dressed as much to his taste as I could be. I was covered not only in thistles but also in his gifts to me. Hopefully, this was enough to save me from whatever he deemed punishment for my insolence.

I took a deep breath and left the room to meet my fate. I fiddled with my skirts as I descended the stairs, looking around for any sign of the servants. There was no sign of them or my husband. In the foyer, I wandered first toward the kitchen door and then lost my nerve, hearing the clanking of dishes and silverware. I went into the dining room to my right, feeling like a coward. The curtains were drawn back from the windows, letting in the early morning sun, much brighter than the day would surely go.

I dawdled by the door, wondering if I should sit or wait for Roderick to join me. I could hear voices and footsteps coming toward the kitchen door, but I could not determine what was being said. I took a shaky breath, and just as I felt that I had lost my nerve and was about to turn tail and run, the door opened.

Roderick stopped short upon seeing me. His hair was now brushed and pulled back neatly, and he carried a tray of two covered bowls and two glasses filled with orange juice. He nodded towards the table as he came further into the room. I took a step forward as he set the tray on the table, and pulled the chair out at the head of the table. He gestured for me to sit, but I couldn’t move.

Roderick looked at me, and just as he was about to say something, I blurted out: “Please, please don’t send me away; I will tell you everything…just please don’t send me to a brothel.” The words broke my weakened resolve; tears fell freely, and I choked on a terrified sob.

Roderick locked eyes with me, and I could see a hurt look. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Come sit down then, Eleanora,” he said softly.

I still couldn’t move. “Please,” I choked out. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I-I-”

Roderick reached out a hand to me, and I felt myself back up a step. “Please, come sit down,” he repeated softly, dropping his hand as soon as he saw me move.

After a long moment of watching him for a reaction, I finally did as he asked and took a step forward, then another. He did not touch me, nor did he reach out to me as he allowed me to take the seat at the head of the table. As he took the seat next to me, he pulled out a white handkerchief that I recognized—the one I had wrapped his blueberry bread in, with my initials embroidered on the corner. He slowly placed it in front of me.

“I do not plan to send you anywhere, Eleanora,” he said gently. “Dry your eyes.” He reached forward and, from the tray, set a glass of juice in front of me. “Drink something, please.”

After trying to calm down enough to take a sip of the juice, I sat on the edge of my chair with my hands in my lap. My chest ached with repressed sobs, and my hands shook with fear of what the future would hold now.

“You don’t have to tell me anything if it hurts too much,” Roderick said quietly, leaning his forearms against the table. His left palm was held open in an invitation to take.

I shook my head and cleared my throat. “Jamesina was right; you deserve to know, but I was too much of a coward to say anything.”

“You are not a coward, Eleanora.” I sniffled and wiped my face once more with the handkerchief. I took a deep breath. “And you have my word as a Scotsman that I will not send you anywhere, no matter what you tell me.”

“Your word?” I repeated softly.

“On my oath, leannan,” he whispered.

In shaking words, I told Roderick first of what happened when we returned from Wilton, as those bruises were still fading, and the cuts were scarring against my pale skin from lack of proper use of a scar salve. He nodded and muttered that he had ‘suspected as much,’ but when I told him of my return from Cedar Hall, he stood up and paced the room. I could not look at him as I ended my story and merely stared at the mahogany table, letting tears drip from my eyes. Out of the corner of my eye, I knew that Roderick was leaning against the windowsill, looking into the yard.

“A dheagh Thighearna, is e mo choire a th’ ann,” I heard him mutter as he turned to me.

Cautiously, I looked at him to find him glancing about the dining room before our eyes met. He took a deep breath and approached me. I stiffened as I waited for him to speak, for him to get angry that I had kept this from him.

Roderick got down on his knees to my left and offered his hands to me. Unsure of his intent, I gingerly took them. He gripped my hands tightly in clammy palms and looked at my face.

“I promised you, Eleanora, that I would not send you anywhere,” he began. “I suspected your father was cruel, but I did not realize how cruel he was. Had I known, I would not have allowed you to return to the bakery unaccompanied for those weeks.”

“Y-you’re not going to send me away?” I asked quietly.

He shook his head and brought my hands to his lips. “The only place I’m going to send you is upstairs. Change into something more comfortable for yourself, leannan. You did not have to dress like this for me. I hope you find comfort here. Please, go put on something you may relax in.”

“What-what about breakfast,” I asked belatedly, looking at the untouched covered plates.

Roderick followed my gaze. “I suspect it’s all gone cold. I will get something warm for you as you change.” He pressed his lips to my hands again and got to his feet. “Go on, leannan.”

“I-I’m sorry, Roderick, for—” I began but stopped as he shook his head.

“Do not apologize for your fear of telling me. I canna fault you for being afraid of how I would react. Please, Eleanora, there is nothing for me to forgive. Now, go on and change.”

I sniffled and got to my feet, walking towards the main door. I turned to find that Roderick had returned to the kitchen door. “Ronald, I have a favor to ask of you,” I heard as he entered the kitchen.

I hurried up the stairs to my room, dressed in a pine green gown that laced up the front. It was unadorned but made from a soft fabric that felt similar to cotton, that I was unfamiliar with. I took off the jewelry but left the new butterfly hairpin.

I had tried to scrub my face to remove the tear streaks once again, but my eyes remained red and swollen, even with a cold compress. I gathered myself again and returned to the foyer, where I found Roderick and the four servants. Roderick, dressed in his brown travel clothes, waited for me at the bottom of the stairs.

He gave me a thin smile that did not reach his eyes, and I could not help the fear that roiled in my stomach. Roderick offered me his hand as I came to the bottom step and stopped me before him. “I have a few errands I must run today, leannan,” he began, placing a hand on my elbow. “I shall return late this afternoon.”     

Surprised by his words, I opened my mouth to ask what errands were so pressing, but I found no words forthcoming. “Ronald will be joining me, but the rest of the Tankens will be here to keep you company,” he said, nodding to Edith as she stepped up behind me. “Make yourself comfortable and help yourself to any books.”

Roderick reached for my left hand and kissed the back of my new wedding band. “Until this evening, Eleanora.”

As he dropped my hand, I took note of the heavy rings on both his hands, the ones I had not seen since the day of our introduction. He turned from me with a nod and beckoned for Ronald to follow him out the door.

Belatedly, I followed them towards the door and watched upon the threshold as the two men each swung into the saddle of a brown horse in the driveway. Roderick urged his horse into a quick trot, followed quickly by Ronald. The crunch of the gravel under the horse’s hooves was loud in my ears as I watched Roderick lead the way towards Wilton, without looking back.

I sat in the parlor with the sun streaming into the room behind me through the opened curtains. A book of South Carolina herblore was in my lap, though I had yet to open it in the two hours since I had sat down. Anytime I tried, thoughts of what Roderick could be out doing took over my concentration. I had seen the hands of the boxers that had come into the bakery to speak with my father. They, too, wore heavy rings like Roderick had and, after some thought, were built similarly to him.

Perhaps Roderick dabbled in the sport and had gone to take his anger out on them rather than myself. I shook the thought away. He was a busy man, and perhaps he had gone to discuss things with a client. However, when he showed up at Wheatrest to see Jamesina, he was always dressed well and rode in his chaise.

My eyes darted to the window across from me, not yet in the sun's path. Edith stood with a duster in hand, though she watched the road more than she cleaned. She held her hand over her bright blue robe, clutching what I thought was a necklace.

“Edith?” I eventually asked the woman, who jumped and turned abruptly to me.

“Yes, Mistress?” she asked, quickly deciding a vase needed her attention.

I cleared my throat. “Do you—do you happen to know where it was Roderick went?” I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer, for I felt it had to do with what I had told him. Perhaps he was gone in disgust, and when he returned, he would ask for an annulment.

Edith, however, forced a smile. “Master Forbes had a few errands to run in town. He takes Ronald from time to time to help him carry anything.”

The answer may have been simple enough, but I did not believe it at least only when I saw the proof. Maybe he was making arrangements at a brothel for me. I looked over my shoulder into the foyer, thinking I should pack my clothes and prepare for the inevitable. But a knock sounding from the front door disrupted my thoughts.

I watched as Reuel walked to the door to answer. I quickly went to the parlor doorway, both afraid and curious about who could be knocking on Roderick’s door. I stood, wringing my hands as the door opened, though I could not see who was on the other side.

“Is Mistress Forbes in, by chance,” came a familiar voice.

“Lottie?” I asked, hurrying forward.

Reuel bowed to me and stepped aside as I stopped at the door. There stood my entire group of friends: Lottie, Ambrosius, Ethel, Brighton, Annabeth, and Arnold (and little Lenny).

“What—what are you all doing here?” I managed.

“We came to see you, of course!” Annabeth said, hiking little Lenny further onto her hip.

“I—I—Roderick isn’t here,” I said quietly, looking towards Reuel. I wasn’t sure if they were even supposed to be present without Roderick’s leave.

“You are more than welcome to have company, Mistress,” Reuel said quietly, then stepped closer. “They are not entirely unexpected.”

It then dawned on me that they were there for the proof that the law had been followed and the marriage consummated. I flushed. “Oh,” I whispered.

“C-come in,” I said, backing away from the door and ushering the group inside.

I had forgotten this part of becoming wed, having never had to be a part of it myself. Reuel stepped up again and bowed. “If the gentlemen will follow me,” he insisted.

The lads followed Reuel towards the stairs as I looked at my three friends. “Come into the parlor,” I said belatedly, motioning to the room across from us.

“This house is so big,” Ethel said. “Ellie, you will have your work cut out for you to decorate. It needs a woman’s touch.”

I forced a laugh. That had hardly crossed my mind. Roderick had years of things and decorations that he likely would not want any other way.

“Just wait until the children come. The babies will take over the decorations,” Anna said knowingly. She plopped onto the divan and placed Leonard in her lap, the babe looking at everything through wide, blue eyes.

Ethel sat in Roderick’s chair, and I could not help but wince. What would he think of my friend sitting in his chair? Lottie joined Anna on the couch as I looked around the room, unsure what to do as hostess. “Uhm, I should get some tea,” I said, turning toward the door.

“Mistress,” Edith said, striding forward. “Keep your company; I will prepare tea and scones for you.”

“Oh—I can—”

“Please, Mistress, you are the hostess,” she whispered.

I nodded and slowly joined Lottie and Anna on the couch as Edith left the parlor. “What’s wrong, Ellie,” Lottie asked, linking arms with me. “You look…well…I’ve seen this look on you before. Was he rough with you?”

A breath caught in my throat, and I could not help but flush at the question. “N-no,” I said. “He was…gentle, and he made sure I was…I was enjoying myself.”

“Then what is it, Ellie?” Anna asked softly, adjusting the squirming baby.

“He—he knows about my father.”

“Did he not know before?” Ethel asked.

“He suspected, but I—I didn’t listen to Mistress Fernsby, I never told him. And—and he saw the marks my father had left.”

Lottie tightened her hold on my arm. “Did he beat you because of the way he found out?”

“No…no, he just wanted me to tell him what happened…so I did.”

“Everything? Even after…?”

I nodded. “I told him everything, hoping he wouldn’t send me…away,” I answered in a breaking voice.

Lottie released my arm to wrap me into a hug. “I-I came down from dressing, and he said he had errands to run, and then he took one of the other servants, and they rode off nearly two hours ago.”

“Oh, Ellie.” Ethel quickly came over, gently pushing me towards Lottie as she sat down, running her hands over my back and shoulders.

“I-I think I’ve already ruined my marriage. He’s sure to ask for an annulment and send me away… my parents won’t take me in…Missus Fernsby surely won’t help me after I disobeyed her.” Lottie pulled my head to her shoulder and held me as I allowed sobs to escape my lips. “What am I to do?”

After allowing me to cry into her shoulder for several minutes, Lottie adjusted and pulled my head up so I could look at her. “I will talk to Amby,” she said. “If he wishes for an annulment, we will come get you. You can stay with us until we can figure something out. We will stay another night in Wilton if we must.”

“Lottie, I couldn’t ask you to,” I managed through tears.

“Well, you don’t have to because it’s what I’m going to do,” she answered.

It was then that the lads made their way into the room, Ambrosius stopping short at the scene before him. Annabeth stood from her place further down the divan and approached the men while Lottie held me as I continued to let tears fall. In a quiet voice, Annabeth told them what I had said; Ambrosius was the only one who knew the extent of what I had told Roderick.

Ambrosius approached and took the vacated seat next to Lottie. “Ellie, Lottie, and I will stay in Wilton another night. Until you say, you are on your way or have decided to stay here. You know you are always welcome with us, and as a woman now, you will be free to do as you please if the annulment is asked for.”

I lifted my head from Lottie’s shoulder and nodded, drying my eyes with Roderick's handkerchief. “I know you probably won’t want to return to be anywhere near your family,” Lottie began, “but you will at least be safe with us until something else can be decided upon.”

“Thank you both so much,” I managed in a broken voice.

Talk eventually strayed from the horrible morning to where my friends stayed in Wilton. Lottie and Ambrosius stayed at the Wayward Inn while the others stayed with Brighton’s family on Wilton’s far side. Edith returned with tea and blueberry scones shortly after and told me to call for her if anything else was needed.

My friends gathered around on different pieces of furniture, Lottie and Ethel sitting beside me. We spoke of many things as the sun climbed higher into the sky, shining brightly into the parlor, and the room warmed.

It was half past one when Edith came and opened the windows to the parlor, letting in a breeze. I could not help but notice as Brighton entered his burgundy jacket to withdraw a handkerchief, the sun flashed on some jeweled thing I had never seen him wear.

“What is that on your jacket, Brighton?” I asked, setting down my empty teacup.

Brighton looked over his jacket and flashed the broach again with a grin. It was an ugly pin that looked made of black or deep purple jewels. It was in the shape of some insect-looking creature with a curled tail and large pinchers.

“’Tis a scorpion,” he said, raising his chin.

“A what?” I asked.

“It's ugly,” Ethel muttered, crossing her arms. “I already hate it.”

“Already?” I questioned.

“That oily old man who proposed to you alongside Mister Forbes gave it to him this morning,” she explained.

“This morning?”

“He knew where we were staying.”

“Well, that’s no surprise, Ethel, I told him,” Brighton said, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“I think you should return it to Mister Rigsby,” I muttered.

“I agree,” Lottie said. “That mean-looking man with a silly mustache was with him too.”

“They stayed until Lottie and Ambrosius arrived for us,” Anna said. “He was incredibly rude to Brighton’s family as well.”

“No surprise there,” I responded. “I have to admit, I’m rather afraid of Mister Dunkirk. I don’t know how Roderick can stand the man.”

“You don’t know any of them very well, though?” Brighton said.

“And neither do you, Mister Holloway,” I responded shortly.

“Be that as it may, I am grateful for the pamphlet and broach they gave me. The pamphlet is very insightful.” Brighton sent a cool look towards Ethel.

“He won’t tell me what’s in it,” she whispered.

“It’s not your concern,” was the clipped answer.

I swallowed and exchanged looks with Lottie. This was the first time I had seen Brighton speak to Ethel this way. But it was none of our places to say anything against Brighton. Perhaps their marriage was not as perfect as Ethel led us to believe in her letters. However, he was in the military, and it was hard for them both to move around so much.

The sun was beginning to sink westward when, through the talk of my friends, we finally heard the crunch of gravel under hooves. I swallowed. Roderick had returned, and my friends were still present. Though, as Reuel had said, Roderick may have looked for them to be here. I swallowed and passed baby Lenny back to his mother as I went to greet my husband at the door. Though he had already seen the carriage in the drive, if not the horses Reuel was tending.

Roderick walked through the door, a basket in hand, followed by Ronald. I did not miss the relief on Edith’s face as she stood beside me, watching the men enter the foyer. Roderick, aware of our presence, turned to us as the door shut, his green eyes taking in my friends in the parlor for a moment.

“Good afternoon, leannan,” he said, with a grin, reaching into his basket. He pulled out a giant, round peach and handed it to me. “An apology for running off this morning.”

I took the fuzzy fruit as he handed the basket to Edith. The woman moved forward with a hurried grace to take Ronald’s hand. He leaned in, placed a kiss on her head, and smiled before whispering something to her. The servant looked unhurt, but as I looked up at my husband’s face, I noticed a bruise forming on his right cheekbone. A small one, but a bruise nonetheless. Roderick quickly slid his right hand into his jacket pocket and smiled at me, wrapping his left arm around my shoulders and guiding me back into the parlor.

“Good evening, all; I do apologize for my absence,” he said. “I had a few errands to run today in preparation for our first week as newlyweds.”

Roderick’s thumb stroked my shoulder, pressing me further into his side.

My friends took notice of the peach in my hands. Perhaps he was gathering something for another Scottish tradition I knew nothing of. But the bruise forming on his cheek made me feel like there were more than mere errands to be accomplished.

“It is us who must apologize,” Ambrosius said, getting to his feet. “We have overstayed our welcome, I am afraid. We arrived late this morning and have kept Eleanora’s company for too long. It is the day after your wedding.”

Roderick nodded as the rest of my friends got to their feet. “Very well. Reuel,” Roderick said, nodding to the servant standing behind us in the foyer.

“Aye, sir,” he said, bowing his head as he went to ready the carriage of our guests.

Roderick turned us to allow my friends passage into the foyer. As Lottie approached, she held out her arms for an embrace. I felt Roderick urge me forward, and as Lottie’s arms enveloped me, she whispered against my ear: “Remember what we agree upon, Ellie.”

I nodded against her before she pulled me away. “I will write to let you know we made it home,” she said.

I smiled at her. “Have a safe journey,” I replied, knowing I would be sending a missive whether or not I would be joining them by tomorrow’s eve.

I backed up into Roderick’s waiting arm, and he guided me after my friends. The two of us stood on the threshold as we watched Brighton and Arnold climb into the driver’s seats and the others climb into the carriage of the hack-chaise. I gave a final wave as Roderick removed his right hand from his jacket and joined in the waving-off.

As my friends drove off, Roderick and I stood in the light of the westering sun for a few moments. “I have a few things for you,” he finally said in a soft voice.

I swallowed hard as he squeezed my shoulder, leading me back into the house. The door clicked shut behind me, and Roderick nodded to me to follow him into his law office. My breath caught in my throat as I waited for him to unlock the door.

I dawdled by the doorway momentarily, careful not to squeeze the peach I still held onto. He smiled gently at me and nodded for me to follow him into the room. “Can you do numbers well, leannan?” he asked, offering me a seat on the mahogany furniture before the unlit hearth.

It was much cooler in his office than in the parlor, and it only made me shiver. I swallowed again. “I can only do so much in the way of doubling and halving,” I responded. “I am not quite adept at it as my brother and father are.”

Roderick nodded. “Still, I trust you, and I think you are willing to learn,” he said with a smile.

I watched him as he walked towards a large shelf and withdrew a tall, leather-bound journal. The orange-covered journal was twice as tall as thick, and he walked it over, setting it before me on the tea table. He then withdrew a small box from the inside of his jacket pocket and set it beside the book.

“I wish for you to take over the household's finances,” he said quietly.

I swallowed. “F-finances?” I asked.

“I do not know another way to make you believe me, Eleanora, that I have no plans to send you away other than this,” he said. “I had originally planned to ask you after a month of marriage after you had gotten used to me.”

“I did not want you to think—” I began, but Roderick shook his head.

“It is through no fault of your own that you did not believe me. It is all you knew, but I seek to reassure you that you are safe here and have a place with me if you wish. Do you want an annulment, Eleanora?”

“No,” I answered quickly. “No, I don’t.”

Roderick gave me a small smile that met his green eyes this time. “Then would you be willing to learn the house's finances?”

I gave a small smile and swallowed my fears. This was not what I was expecting, but it was so unexpected and…almost sweet that I felt a giddiness in my stomach. “I am.”

Roderick wrapped an arm around me and placed a kiss against my temple. “I am glad to hear it.”

My eyes roved over to the long, thin box he had taken out of his pocket, wrapped with a deep blue ribbon. He nudged it towards me. I set the peach down and took the box in hand, slowly opening it. Inside was a beautifully white goose feather pen, and nestled at the end of the box were two small jars of ink, one red and one black. I smiled to be given my own writing set for the task he asked me to take on. Roderick wanted me here.

I smiled again and looked up into his face, finding him watching me. I again noticed the bruise forming on his cheekbone and allowed my hand to reach up, my fingertips brushing the mark.

“What happened?” I found myself whispering.

Roderick’s eyes fell from my face, but he took my hand, pulling my fingers to his lips. “Merely a fall, leannan,” he replied in kind. “I took a tumble off of my horse.” He flashed his right hand to me, and I saw scrapes and bruises forming over his knuckles and around his rings.

“Did he get spooked?” I whispered.

“Aye, but it is only in his nature,” he replied, slipping a finger under my chin and tilting my head.

I sighed as his lips flitted across mine in question. I closed the small distance and pressed my lips against his in a grateful kiss for the kindness he had shown me today. But I felt the giddy feeling in my stomach more keenly now. I slid my hand to his face and took it upon myself to deepen the kiss.

Sometime in the morning, I would write the missive telling Lottie I was staying

Chapter Text

13. Deer Run

The morning of my second day of marriage, I awoke in Roderick's bed again, though this time fully clothed in my new chemise. Roderick was still asleep, his arm around me, though I had turned out of his embrace and onto my back in my slumber. Rather than having relations, Roderick had insisted we share a night of reading together. He read aloud to me from the Iliad, the book still on the bedside table, a ribbon sticking out of where he had left off. I wasn't sure where he had stopped, for after the trying day, I had fallen asleep against him early in the reading.

Against him, as he insisted, for his copy of the book had pictures of the Trojans and the like. While the pictures were thoughtfully drawn, I had too much on my mind, yet I was so drained of emotion and tears that I could not focus on his words. But the murmur of Roderick's soothing voice had lulled me into relaxation and sleep.

I smiled as I watched my husband breathe easily in his slumber, a peaceful look on his face. I resisted the urge to reach over and stroke his face with a finger, deciding to let him rest. The bruise on his cheek had darkened, and I thought I could talk him into rubbing the arnica salve on the bruise, for he had insisted Edith put the salve on my back for me before we went to bed. The jar was across the room on my vanity, closed tightly, and set in the center of the table, next to my new quill and ink.

That reminded me. I needed to send that missive to Ambrosius and Lottie before they returned, looking for an answer. Then, after the letter was written, I could return the favor Roderick had attempted yesterday. I would make him breakfast.

Slowly, I rolled out of bed and got to my feet, relishing the woolen bed round I stepped onto. I glanced back at Roderick, smiling as he remained unmoved. I quietly padded across the room, and behind the dressing screen, I slipped into a bright blue dress, the color of morning glories. Quietly still, I slipped to the vanity, ran a brush through my hair, and pinned it up.

As I turned back to glance at Roderick again, I jumped to find that he was sitting in bed, watching me with a gentle smile and his hands behind his head as the morning sun streamed in behind the closed curtains. "I—I didn't mean to wake you—" I began.

Roderick shook his head and cocked his head to the side. "You didn't, leannan. Well… I suppose the lack of you did." He smiled and beckoned me over to him.

Lifting my skirt, I walked quicker than I meant to and stopped at his side. He reached out and felt the softness of the cotton. "This dress is the color of your eyes."

"It is?" I asked, looking over the skirts.

"I think it is," he replied, throwing his feet over the side of the bed. He grinned at me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me between his knees and against his chest. I couldn't help the giggle that escaped my lips as he pressed me against him. "And where is my wife off to this morning?"

I met his pale green eyes and smiled as I felt his strong shoulders beneath my fingers. As if sensing this was why I smiled, he pressed me tighter into his chest. "I was going to make you breakfast," I answered.

Roderick hummed. "You best send a message to the Pembroke's, though," he murmured, looking up at me. "That is if you are still staying here."

My face fell. "I am staying. I just…how did you know?"

He loosened his hold on me and guided me to sit beside him. "Mistress Pembroke cares deeply for you, leannan. She and her husband would want confirmation that you are staying."

I faltered at his matter-of-fact statement. "I didn't want to hurt you by telling you they wanted a missive."

Roderick shook his head and ran a finger down my cheek. "No, love, I am glad that my wife has such friends who would want her safe."

I smiled and leaned against him. "I was going to make you breakfast after I wrote the note."

"I did not doubt it." He grinned as he got to his feet. "I shall let you get on with breakfast, and I will meet you down there." Before I could get to my feet, Roderick cupped my face in both hands and pressed his lips against mine. I giggled against his lips, and he gently pulled me onto my feet. "See you downstairs, my darling."

As I left the room, I looked back at Roderick, who was doing the same thing with a handsome smile. Our eyes met, and he gave me a wink. I chuckled again and slipped out of the door.

In the kitchen, I found Edith already stirring a pan of eggs before flipping sausages over in a second skillet. "Oh," I muttered, seeing that breakfast was already underway.

Edith turned around quickly at my utterance. "I did not mean to frighten you, Mistress."

"Oh, you didn't," I said louder. "I just…well, I didn't know you were here yet. I was hoping to make Roderick breakfast."

Edith allowed herself to smile. "It's rather late, Mistress. In fact, it's half past ten, and I was going to wake you both once I finish here."

My mouth fell open, and the woman laughed. "I had no idea it was so late." I could not remember when I had ever slept so late, not even when I was sick.

"I suspect you both slept as much as you needed," she answered, schooling her features.

"I suppose you are right. Perhaps I shall cook for him tomorrow." Edith nodded and turned back to her pans. "Erm…Edith, is there a pen and paper I may use to write a missive?"

"Yes, Mistress, there is parchment and a pencil for grocery lists in the corner of the counter."

"Thank you," I said, going immediately to the indicated corner.

Pulling the paper to myself, I quickly addressed the missive to Lottie and wrote:

Lottie,

After you all left, Roderick offered me the household finances. He told me that if I was willing to stay and learn, I could do the ledgers. And while I am nervous about having such power in a household, I am willing to stay and learn.

I will stay here at Deer Run. Hopefully, we will visit again soon, and until then, please do write.

Love from Eleanora Forbes.

I then drew a small rendition of a marigold next to my name. Lottie and I had come up with the flower drawing after several intercepted and faked letters from my brother, and perhaps even my mother, when I was not allowed to see any of my friends after my grandmother died. The flower proved it was an actual letter, not a faked one.

Smiling at my written decision, I folded the letter up and turned back to the open kitchen. "Edith?" I asked. “Who might I ask to take this into town?"

"Do you need something run into town, Mistress?" came a voice from the far side of the kitchen.

I circled around the counter to find Reuel leaning against a table in the corner. He was eating a piece of bread, dressed in a brown work suit, and he came forward as I looked over at him. I wondered how long he had been there, for I had not heard him come in. "Unless Master Forbes has anything for me to do, I am free to go into town for you."

Unsure, I looked around as Roderick had not yet come downstairs. "I—I don't know if he does," I admitted.

"He left no instructions besides our daily tasks," Edith supplied.

"Then, if you wish me to go now, Mistress, I can take a horse into town before I join Ronald in the gardens."

"Um… if you wouldn't mind, the sooner the better, I suppose," I said slowly.

Reuel held out his hand for the missive. "I will be on my way then, Mistress."

I swallowed at the repeated use of the title towards me but handed Reuel the letter. "It goes to the Wayward Inn and Tavern."

Reuel glanced at the address, smiled wryly, and tucked the message into his coat pocket. "I will be back before lunch then." He grabbed a hat from the line of pegs at the back door and strode out of the kitchen with a wave of his hand.

Edith turned to me. "Mistress, I am just toasting the bread. If you wish to wait in the dining room, I will bring it to you."

"Oh, of course. Thank you," I said, turning to do as Edith suggested.

I entered the dining room through the kitchen door, as Roderick did through the far entrance. He grinned as we each entered, the doors closing with simultaneous clicks. We met at the head of the table, and I looked over his suit, a sky blue that complimented my gown.

"How is breakfast coming?" he asked, offering his hand to me.

I took it but looked down, almost embarrassed. "It seems Edith has already started before me."

"Ah," Roderick nodded. "I wondered if that was the case. We slept late. But no matter, there will be plenty of other chances." He pulled me to his chest. "And the letter to the Pembroke's?"

"Reuel said he could take it right away," I murmured, surprised yet relishing the feel of Roderick's arms beneath my hands. The light smell of his cedar parfum met my nose, and I wished I had thought to put some of my own on.

"Very good," he said as he leaned me against the table. I watched as he slid a hand up my arm to my hand that rested on his chest and pulled it to his lips, kissing my marriage band. His other arm wrapped about my waist. "What would you like to do today?"

Distracted by his lips forming the words so close to the skin on my arm, I forced my eyes to meet his. "I—I don't know," I managed. "How would you like to spend the day?"

Roderick chuckled and leaned against me slightly. "What I want to do may not be what you want."

Before I could ask what he wanted, his lips skirted against mine, and I tightened my hold on his suit jacket. I sighed, and Roderick quickly closed the gap between our lips. He pressed my hand back into his chest to feel his heart as it began to pound. His tongue begged entrance to my mouth, and I quickly granted it, melting into his kisses, forgetting where it was we were.

Roderick adjusted against me, and I could barely feel his bulge through my skirts. I let out a soft grunt, wishing to feel more of him, and with the hand that still rested on his arm, I slowly let it slide down his chest and stomach. He groaned into my lips as my hand skirted the buttons of his trousers.

"Oh!" came Edith's gasp from behind us. I jumped into Roderick, quickly withdrew my hand, and pulled away from his lips.

Roderick leaned against me and blocked my view. "Uhm, perhaps we will come to the breakfast, Edith," he managed.

"Yes, Master Forbes," she managed, and I heard her balance the tray she carried in one hand and hurry back into the kitchen. "Sorry."

I looked around, feeling an embarrassed blush rise to my cheeks. This was not a bedroom and not a place to do this. "Eleanora," he whispered so close to my ear. I could not help but shiver at the warmth of my name on his breath. I looked back up at him. "Do you wish to stop?"

"I—I wish to go to bed," I whispered honestly.

"Will you be my breakfast in bed?" he asked, cocking his head and leaning his face close enough for his lips to skirt my cheek.

I nodded against him, took his hand tightly in mine, and gently pushed him off of me to lead him out of the dining room and up the stairs, returning to the bedroom.

The first week of my marriage went by much like the second day. The days were filled with Roderick taking me on an extended tour of his gardens, leading to much kissing and fondling in the back garden or to the library, where he read books to me, only for us to slide back into the bedroom. On the seventh day, Roderick had asked me to show him how to make a full-sized blueberry bread for us to share that evening. And we burned the bread while he got me telling him all about the receipt book somewhere upstairs in my still mostly unpacked things.

But rather than becoming angry or even disappointed, Roderick and I tossed the bread into the gardens for the birds, and somehow, we ended up in the bedroom for the rest of the afternoon.

It was the beginning of the second week and the last day of our honeymoon, as Roderick called it. On Tuesday, he would begin to have meetings with various shopkeepers or other clients to discuss…well, whatever they discussed. I had awoken with a dull ache in my lower back, and I quickly got out of bed, still being careful not to disturb Roderick. I checked the bed and breathed a sigh of relief that the sheets were not spotted with my blood.

I gathered a dress as quietly as possible and hurried into the necessary. I washed and dressed before rushing to my room, where everything remained unpacked. Quickly, I dug through my suitcase for what I needed for my cycle and finished dressing for the day, though the ache in my back had spread to my stomach before I was done. I had just finished pinning my hair up and smoothing over my skirts when a knock came at the door. I jumped and hurried forward only to find Roderick on the other side dressed in his dressing gown, his long hair disheveled from sleep and a look of worry on his face.

"Is everything alright, Eleanora?" he asked.

At the question, I could not help but immediately flush a deep red as I joined him in the hall. "Everything is fine," I answered a little too quickly.

Roderick's eyes roved over me. "Are you certain?"

"Uhm…" I temporized, unconsciously running a hand over my aching stomach. This did not go unnoticed.

"Eleanora, are you well?" he asked again.

"Yes, I am quite well. It's just… it's nothing." My face burned hotter, wondering how to tell him my predicament.

"Are you in pain, leannan?" he asked, running his hand down the length of my arm.

“Yes…it’s just…”

"Is it your cycle?"

I cleared my throat and nodded, looking down at my feet. "Sorry… I've never had to discuss this with a man before. Even my mum…" My face seemed to be on fire with my discomfort.

"Oh, leannan, it's natural; you don't have to be so embarrassed. But come, if you are in pain, let me ease it." Roderick offered his hand, gently leading me down the hallway and into the kitchen.

The sun was just beginning to creep into the sky as Roderick pulled back the curtains over the countertops, revealing a dimly lit garden. He sat me down at the small table near the banked hearth and lit the fire.

Unused to having someone—let alone a man—waiting on me, I slowly got up. "Roderick, I can make the tea," I began.

He waved a hand at me. "Sit down, love, I will make you some ginger tea." Setting a kettle to boil, Roderick smiled gently at me before rifling through the cabinet across from the hearth. He brought down a clay pot and looked inside before his face fell. He glanced at me sheepishly.

"I fear we don't have much ground ginger root left," he said. "Just enough for this morning, I think. Would you be opposed to a trip into Wilton?"

I smiled back at him. "That sounds nice," I agreed as he joined me at the table, bringing the pot of ginger with him.

Roderick leaned against the table and rested his head on a hand. "Might I ask you something… rather personal, leannan?" he asked quietly.

I nodded and couldn't help but mirror his position.

"Did you not know your cycle was due?"

"Oh," I flushed deeply at his question and sat up straight. I cleared my throat and avoided his eyes. "I—I have always… uhm… Lottie told me that some women have odd cycles. Cycles are difficult to predict, for they don't always… come when they should. And despite being a virgin, they could come late." I cleared my throat a second time. "I—sorry. My family thought less of me because of it…my father did not think I was…pure."

"And was that a reason for the threat of the brothel?"

I shrugged a nod. "That and I was supposed to be collateral for any debts he could not pay."

An angered look passed over Roderick's face, but I felt it was not directed at myself. He cleared his throat and sat up. "I have heard of this—my sister has a similar cycle. Do you hurt very badly when it comes?"

Surprised by the question, I nodded. "It can hurt something awful."

Roderick nodded. "When Reuel comes in from his morning duties, I will have him ready the carriage. I think perhaps a visit to Master Lovelust and his wife is prudent. His wife is skilled in all things relating to a woman's body and perhaps could help give you some relief. Would that be agreeable?"

I gave a small smile and nodded. "Yes."

Roderick returned my smile and glanced over at the fire. "Oh! The tea!" he hurriedly got up and grabbed the kettle.

Despite my aching insides, I watched him with a light and almost excited feeling. He poured the hot water into two cups, mixing ginger into mine and black tea into his. We each took our cups in hand, and our eyes met over the rims. My lips quirked upwards into a smile, and I felt like I could become quite used to this.

It was midmorning when the carriage stopped at the Wayward Inn and Tavern. The sun was shining brightly, promising a warm summer day ahead. Roderick did not wait for Reuel to open the carriage door; instead, he did it himself and offered me his hand, helping me down the steps. I smiled at Roderick as he closed the door behind me and offered me his arm.

Guiding me around the carriage, he looked up at the servant. "We shall do some shopping hereabouts and meet you back here, Reuel."

"Aye, Master Forbes," was the response. Reuel clicked his tongue and urged the horses around the side of the building to wait for our return.

Roderick guided me down the street, passing other couples and families as he went towards the west side of Wilton. I glanced around at the wives of the wealthier men, seeing them arm in arm with their husbands as they walked, their heads held proudly and their shoulders and backs straight. Quickly, I tried to straighten my posture so as not to embarrass Roderick. The stretch in my back felt pleasurable now with the continual dull ache I felt, though my shoulders strained as quickly as they did under Jamesina's instructions.

I glanced at him, but he didn't notice my adjustments as we walked by the windows of shops. He nodded and greeted people as we passed, though he did not stop for introductions. He led me straight through the crowded streets and onto a road called Magnolia Avenue; at the end was the burnt-looking shop of Mister Lovelust. Not so worried about the failing of my engagement, I looked around the street to find that it, indeed, was the last street of shops. Lovelust's shop marked the end of Magnolia Avenue, another street branching off in either direction, lined with houses.

Roderick and I walked up the shop's steps and entered. Upon opening the door, we were greeted by the mixture of the many herbs hanging from the ceiling. It wasn't such an affront to the senses, but it certainly wasn't what I would call a pleasant smell. Behind the counter stood Mister Lovelust, pulling seeds off a stock of mullein and dropping them into a bowl.

"Good morning, Mister and Missus Forbes!" Lovelust greeted with a wide grin. "What can I do for you today?"

Roderick glanced at me as we stepped up to the counter. "My wife could use a visit from your wife," he said quietly.

"Ah," Lovelust nodded. "Allow me to fetch her." Lovelust disappeared through a doorway behind the counter. "Arabella, love, you are wanted!"

I blinked. If I remember correctly, his servant-woman was called Arabella as well. Thinking it odd that his wife and servant would have the same name, I fiddled with my dress. Roderick did have some odd characters as friends. Just as I finished the thought, Lovelust returned with his wife—the dark-skinned young woman I had believed to be his servant.

Today, her lengthy hair was tied up at the top of her head, and her dark-colored eyes met mine. "Missus and Mister Forbes," she greeted with a slight bow—not a curtsey.

I blinked to be addressed first by the woman. I noticed, too, that she was dressed in what looked like men's riding gear, though tailored to fit a woman. I swallowed and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear that had slipped loose.

"I understand Mistress Forbes needs my assistance," she said matter-of-factly.

I nodded. "If you aren't too busy."

"I am never too busy for the Forbes," she answered and beckoned me behind the counter. "Come, step into my office."

I glanced up at Roderick, who smiled and loosened his arm, urging me to follow Missus Lovelust. Cautiously, I followed her behind the counter and through the doorway.

The hallway we entered was dark, save for a few sconces lit. The wood paneling we passed was as dark as the wood outside. I would have been more nervous if the calming scent of lavender wasn’t growing the further down the hall we went. I wondered if we were going into a cellar, as the hallway we ventured down was slopping enough to be quite noticeable.

At the end of the hallway, we turned left and entered a dark, cool room. A candle was burning brightly on her desk, and a bowl of crushed and dampened lavender permeated the air. Missus Lovelust beckoned for me to take a seat in one of the two chairs in front of her desk while she made herself comfortable behind. Slowly, I sat down and looked about myself.

Bookshelves lined every inch of wall from top to bottom with books, others with unknown trinkets and knick-knacks—except for a door behind her shoulder. As if aware of my eyes, Arabella shifted and blocked my line of sight to the door with her body. "What may I do for you, Missus Forbes?"

"Uhm, well, we came for some ginger root for me," I said, feeling a blush starting on my cheeks. Never before had I spoken so much of my cycle, let alone to people I did not know.

Arabella gave me a smirk. "Surely that can't be everything, Eleanora."

I shifted at the use of my given name. "I'm sorry I've never spoken so openly nor so much about such private matters."

"Cycles are a natural part of being a woman, Eleanora. If you need more than simple ginger root, out with it."

Taken aback by such blunt words, I swallowed. "Well, I have cycles that are difficult to predict, and they are very painful."

"Do you bleed heavily?"

“Uh…yes…”

Arabella nodded and beckoned for me to stand up. "Do you hurt now?"

"Not so badly as before; the ginger root has helped," I answered, doing as she asked.

With another nod, Arabella approached me. She placed one hand on my lower back and pressed her other hand to my stomach, both over the places I ached. Applying different amounts of pressure, she sometimes moved her hands first one and then another.

"Have you ever seen an apothecary about this before?"

"Just my friend in Charles Town who gave me ginger root."

"And I imagined it helped but did not fully take away your pain, just like now."

"How did you know?"

Arabella released me and went to a table on the left-hand side of the room. She began to rifle through many glass vials and boxes of herbs. "What you have is very common. Most apothecaries would tell you it is hysteria, but the more practiced would call it ulcers."

"Ulcers?" I repeated in a panic.

"Peace, Eleanora," she said, holding up a hand, her back still to me. "I am not sure ulcers is even the correct term for it, but it is closer than the hysteria that the males like to claim it as." Arabella picked up a mortar and pestle and began to grind something into a powder.

I waited, my eyes on her back, as I watched her grind the mixture before pouring the powder into a medium-sized glass jar. She turned to me, a teaspoon in hand, leveled out with the powder.

"Open," she said simply. Surprised at the demand, I did as she asked, and she poured the mixture into my mouth. "Swallow quickly; it's bitter."

I winced, tasting a hint of ginger and cinnamon, but they were nearly overpowered by a mixture of bitter flavors, and I swallowed the powder. I coughed a little into my hand, blowing out some of the powder. "What is that?" I gasped as she poured me a glass of water.

"Ginger, devil's claw, cat's claw, turmeric, willow bark, and cinnamon," she answered as I gulped the water down. "Give it a few moments, and you should feel much better."

Handing the glass back, I could already feel the muscles in my back releasing their tension. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you," I said, putting a hand to my back, marveling at the quick-working powder.

Arabella smiled as she placed the lid on the jar tightly and busied herself with wrapping it in blue cloth and tying twine around it so it looped around the bottom but had enough leeway the top could be slipped over the wrist for easy carrying. "You are welcome. This should get you through this month and the next. One teaspoon as needed. I will replenish my supplies and send you more when I have made it."

"Oh, you don't have to do that."

"I do. I know the pain of cycles, and it is my pleasure to concoct all sorts of things."

I smiled, and she offered her arm to me. I took her arm, and she led me back up the hallway at a leisurely pace. "How has your first week of marriage been?"

I tried not to flush at the thought of everything Roderick and I had done. "Fun, I suppose. I have never felt so free despite being in Roderick's company."

Arabella smiled. "He is a good man." We were coming to the end of the hallway, where we could hear the voices of our respective husbands, and Arabella slowed her pace. "I hope to see you soon, Eleanora."

I smiled. "I hope the same. You may call me Ellie; my friends do."

Arabella returned with a smile of her own. "Then you may call me Ara."

We exited the hallway to find that Roderick and Horace were not alone. Dunkirk stood at the counter, dressed in a pressed Dragoon uniform, his hat beneath an arm. I felt Arabella's arm tighten against mine, but she smiled at me. "No charge for today," she told me. Then she hugged me, smelling of all the herbs she had just crushed for me. "Watch yourself today, my friend," she whispered against my ear.

She released me with a smile and strode back down the hallway without a second glance. Belatedly realizing I was still behind the counter, I circled it and joined Roderick, who smiled down at me and linked my arm with his.

"And there is the new Missus Forbes," Dunkirk said in his cool voice, his eyes roving over me. "How are you this fine morning?"

Unsure how to take such a pleasant greeting from a man I so disliked, I kept my face neutral and ducked into a curtsey. "I am well, and yourself?" I asked.

"Just the same as ever," he answered. "Shall we, Roddy?"

"Yes, we will meet you at the tavern shortly. How much, Horace?"

"Oh, Arabella said no charge for today," I intervened.

"As she should. It is your first order, Missus Forbes," Horace replied with a nod. Roderick returned the nod and adjusted his coat. "Bring your wife again soon."

"Aye, see you on the morrow, Horace," Roderick responded.

The two shared a quick look that went unnoticed by Dunkirk, who was checking a richly made golden pocket watch. Embossed on the case, I saw that horrid insect Brighton had pinned to his jacket a week ago. I glanced at Dunkirk's face to see his eyes on me before he slid the pocket watch back into his jacket.

"Solomon and Elias should be at the tavern by now," he commented, his eyes sliding to Roderick.

"Yes, let's not keep them," my husband answered.

"I will return for my order this afternoon, Master Lovelust," Dunkirk said.

"Aye, very well, Master Dunkirk," was Horace's response.

Dunkirk left the counter without a ‘thank you,’ leading the way out of the shop. Roderick led me by my arm at a quick pace, placing himself between Dunkirk and me.

At the Wayward Inn and Tavern, we indeed found Elias and Solomon waiting for us. Solomon was arm in arm with a blonde-haired woman whom I did not recognize. She had circles beneath her eyes and a meek stance, standing just slightly behind Solomon. She was in a dowdy pine green dress that reminded me very much of my unpacked things at Deer Run—though with = fewer holes.

"Good morning," Solomon greeted, shaking Roderick's hand. Eleanora, this is my wife, Lynette. She is quite sorry she could not be at your wedding."

"Yes," the woman agreed in a voice reminiscent of my mother's. "I was quite ill, but it is lovely to finally meet you, Eleanora."

I ducked into a slight curtsey. "I hope you are feeling better," I said, though I had a feeling it wasn't an illness that kept her from the wedding.

"Much," she answered before Solomon stepped forward.

"Shall we go in and find a table?" he asked, and without waiting for an answer, he entered the tavern without offering his arm to his wife. Elias, however, offered his hand in escort to Lynette, and they followed Solomon.

I glanced up at Roderick, who smiled at me. "You'll get used to that," he whispered as Dunkirk passed us. "Solomon can get into moods, but all is well, leannan."

I returned his smile and allowed him to lead me into the parlor. We sat at a table off to the side. Dunkirk took a seat first, and Roderick sat across from him. As I sat beside my husband, Solomon sat across from me, and next to me sat Elias across from Lynette.

As we made ourselves comfortable at the table, the owner of the tavern came over and bowed into a greeting, but before he could speak, Dunkirk interrupted him. "We will each have the New England chowder. Bring four ales and two glasses of wine for the women."

"Very well, sir," the innkeeper said, quickly turning on his heel to do as he was asked.

After a few moments of silence, Elias leaned around me to address Roderick. "R-r-roddy, d-did you e-ever receiv-ve a re-reply from the g-g-governor?"

I looked at my husband, curious as to what he meant. Roderick shifted, annoyed. "I did, and though my coachman got the soldier's names, he will not do anything."

"As he should," Dunkirk said. "The soldiers were doing their duty."

"They accosted my wife," Roderick argued.

"But she wasn't your wife at the time," was the response. "Since her father was still her guardian and he did not make a complaint, Governor Campbell cannot do anything."

"They need to be kept in check. My client at the Bumbling Bee tells me it is an ongoing issue."

"Your client ought to leave the King's business to the King's servants. There are many Whigs about that little inn, and you would do well to keep your business amongst the Loyalists."

"P-p-please l-let's not t-t-talk pol-pol-politics," Elias said, holding out a hand.

"I agree," Solomon said. "It'll give the women the vapors if we delve too deeply into it. Isn't that right, Lynette?"

"Oh, yes, let's talk about more pleasant things today," she agreed automatically.

Our talk changed to the doings of each household for the past week. Dunkirk announced he would be going to the north to oversee a platoon of men, where rumors were swirling of a possible battle taking place, and asked Elias to look after his estate.

The New England chowder was served with our drinks, and the four men talked about hunting, traveling, and other topics. Throughout the talk, I noticed Elias said little to the men. Still, he and Lynette shared many glances across the table, and he spoke in whispers between her and me, asking us the occasional question.

Though he spoke with a stutter and twitched often, I found Elias to be a rather charming gentleman who spoke kindly and seemed to care about what Lynette and I had to say. The day was wearing on when the talk began to die down, and I noticed Dunkirk continually checking his pocket watch. And that ugly little creature kept catching my eye.

"You seem fairly interested in my pocket watch, Missus Forbes," Dunkirk said.

Jumping at my glances caught and mentioned, I cleared my throat. "I just saw the husband of one of my friends wearing the same sort of pin last week. I was just curious as to what it was."

Dunkirk's cool eyes narrowed at me, and he shifted beneath everyone's curious glances. "Mine is of a scorpion, a rare insect found in the West. I am sure what your friend's husband had was not the same."

"I am sure it is," I argued. "For he said he received it from you and Mister Rigsby."

"Did he now?" he said. "If you wish to pry, I will tell you it concerns his military career. But anything else would be a further violation of his privacy."

Feeling the scold, I simply nodded. "I apologize; I was merely curious."

However, I could not help but feel in my stomach that what he told me was a bald-faced lie.

Chapter Text

14. Mistress of Deer Run

The week went by quickly. Our days were filled with Roderick working away in his office drafting notices and contracts, or meeting with clients both in and out of the house. I spent much of my time unpacking my things in Edith’s company, going through what I was allowed to keep and what I ought to give to the tailors as extra cloth.

Edith insisted that all save my best dresses from my old life be given away. My best dresses would, like Jamesina had said, be used for picnicking or gardening if I chose to keep them. I found that I was at loose ends by the end of the week, so I spent my time in the gardens with a book in hand. Sometimes I read, other times I watched as gardeners, who came by to work now that our honeymoon week was at an end.

It was Monday evening, and I had just come down from washing up and changing into a more suitable home dress. It was a small thing of gold fabric, trimmed with dark orange and sunflower swirls. My thistle pendant rested at the crevice of my breasts, and I could not help that some of my locks slipped from one of my new hairpins. (I had found that some of them were a bit smaller and struggled to hold all of my hair).

Roderick was waiting for me in the dining room, and he blinked in surprise at me. “Such a pretty gown just for supper,” he said with a smile. “You look like a sunset.” He offered his hand to me, and we took our seats at the large dining table.

Dinner was served with a beef steak, green beans, and roasted potatoes. We began eating in a companionable silence as Reuel poured us both a glass of wine and John brought out two slices of an apple pie for dessert. I felt Roderick’s eyes on me and glanced up at him.

“How have you found your first week of day-to-day life?” he asked.

I took a sip of wine as I mulled over everything I had done. “Quiet,” I said finally. “I have found myself with idle hands, and I am not sure what I would do all day.”

He smiled. “Aye, I thought you would find yourself too idle. I must confess something to you.” I quirked an eyebrow at this and looked over at him curiously and he chuckled. “It is nothing devious, I assure you. But I did take the liberty of hiring a piano forte teacher for you.”

“Piano forte?” I repeated.

“Aye, I know Mistress Fernsby had you beginning to learn in your lessons, but I thought that since you played so wonderfully, you would like to continue them.”

I hid my disappointment behind a smile. This was certainly something to keep me busy for perhaps a few hours a week, but not for days on end. I had hoped he would begin showing me the household ledgers.

“It sounds wonderful,” I answered. “But I did intend to ask, when I would begin to learn the household ledgers.”

“Ah,” he nodded. “I will show you when I return. For I fear I must tell you the lessons were hopefully to distract from my absence.”

“Your absence?” I asked, feeling my heart skip a beat in worry.

“Yes, you know I must travel sometimes, we talked about it before. And you know I am the deed owner to the Bumbling Bee,” he said.

“I understand,” I said quickly. “I just—perhaps I did not think you would travel so soon after the wedding.”

Roderick placed his hand on my arm. “I had not wanted to. But I have received word of something that needs looking into. Nothing serious, just business matters, leannan.”

“How long would you be gone?” I asked, still feeling my heart sink. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.

“Three days,” he replied, squeezing my arm. “I will be back by the week’s end, my love.”

I forced another smile. “And you must leave in the morning?” I asked.

“I fear so. But let’s enjoy the night together. Will you help me pack?”

I nodded and took a deep draught of wine.

I leaned into Roderick’s warmth as he read aloud from a book of Celtic folklore. He had one arm wrapped around me as my eyes skimmed the page, following along as he read aloud to me. His arm was around me tightly and I had my legs curled around me in the divan. The crackling of the fire was a calming warmth, and I could hear his heart beating beneath his nightshirt. I nestled my head against him, breathing in his woodsy scent. I found myself feeling I would miss this over the next few nights. Roderick’s words faltered, allowing his hand to slide down the baggy side of my shift

“Tired, m’eudail?” he said quietly.

I hummed a negative answer. “Just comfortable,” I responded. And truthfully I did not want to stop reading so soon.

Roderick smiled against my head and looked down at me as my eyes moved up to his face. “You have such sweet eyes,” he murmured, closing the book he held.

I smiled as he placed the book on the side table, feeling my heart quicken. He let his free hand gently touch my face, gliding against my cheek with the soft gentleness I had become accustomed to when he wished for my company. I would welcome his company over the book.

“Must you go for so long?” I found myself asking, as I slid a hand over his chest.

“I fear so, Eleanora,” he whispered. “May I ask for your company tonight, before I leave in the morning?”

I felt stirring deep in my stomach and straightened up to allow him better access to my lips. With a sigh, Roderick cupped my face, tilting my head until I was positioned where he wanted me. He coupled our lips letting his hand slide from my cheek to the nape of my neck.

Feeling his tongue flit across my lips I opened my mouth against him, welcoming his tongue with mine. I sighed into him and adjusted against his chest so I could cup his face in return. He tasted like the whiskey he had sitting beside us, with notes of the familiar honey and oak. The warmth between my legs emboldened me to run my hand down his neck and slide beneath his shirt to the warmth of his chest.

Roderick responded and took my hand in his, guiding me down to his growing erection. I cupped his balls in hand squeezing gently, relishing the sigh he gave before stroking his hardened shaft. I cradled his tip in hand, paying special attention to the area with short, soft strokes I was learning that he liked.

“Come here,” Roderick grunted heavily after a moment of my fondling.

He urged me up and lifted the skirt of my shift over my knees as I straddled his lap. He helped me settle against him as his lips skimmed over my throat to my collarbone. I sighed against the thrill his touch sent along me, and arched into him as his fingertips ran down my spine. His free hand palmed my breast through the sheer fabric I wore, tickling my pearled nipple.

I sighed and lolled my head back as he cupped my breast through the cloth, his lips and tongue dancing over my exposed skin. My heart beat faster and I felt my arousal course through me in a tightening of my chest and a spurt of excitement in my stomach.

Roderick’s hands slid over my body, slowly groping down my thighs spread around his lap. He grunted, sliding his hand beneath the shift and slowly began to lift it up over my naked body. He watched almost in amazement as he slowly revealed my body to himself. I watched his face, always so shocked and flattered by his looks as he took in my nakedness.

Roderick tossed the shift to the floor and let his fingertips run along my back and down to my hips. “I will never get tired of seeing you,” he murmured, cupping my face and pulling me into a deep kiss.

His lips massaged against me in a rhythm he knew I liked as his hands slid over my body to cup my bottom. I pulled away just an inch from him and tugged at the collar of his night shirt. “I want to feel you against me,” I managed.

Roderick groaned something in Gaelic and I leaned away just enough that he could pull his shirt off of him. He tossed his shirt to the floor with my gown and I immediately let my hands rove over his broad shoulders and down his chest, relishing the warmth of his body, squeezing here and there against his muscles.

He smirked as my hands slid back up to his face. Feeling emboldened by his enjoyment of my hands I reached back to his hair and pulled the black ribbon free. I let the satin ribbon drag over his shoulder and tickle his chest. He made a low growl of approval deep in his throat and adjusted against me, his hips pushing his bulge into my bud.

I gasped in pleasure and he gave a short chuckle, leaning his face against mine. He sighed against my cheek and took the ribbon from my hand. I watched in anticipation as he wrapped the satin around three fingers and teased the ribbon over my nipples. I could not help the whimper that escaped me as the softness of the fabric slid over my sensitive skin.

Roderick chuckled as he let his hand drift down my stomach. He paused at my neathers and I wondered if he would slide his satin covered fingers between my legs. It was expensive cloth, but I could not help but wonder how it would feel against me. With his free hand, Roderick steadied me and slid his fingers against my bud.

I gasped and gripped his shoulders, moaning at the foreign feel of the fabric against such sensitive parts of me. He chuckled again and his fingers explored me, the satin coming loose as he worked. After a few moments he reached underneath me and pulled the ribbon between my legs slowly, relishing my gasp.

He dropped the ribbon to the floor and wrapped his arms around me. “May I have you here?” he asked heavily, looking up at me.

I was willing to do whatever he wanted. I didn’t want to take the time to go to the bed—if he wanted me on the floor he could have me. I nodded. “Take me however you want me.”

He groaned and dug his fingertips into my skin. “Just what I want to hear.” I let him guide my hips up and he positioned his cock. “Slide yourself over me.” I gripped his shoulders and did as he asked, his free hand aiding my hips as he guided me over his throbbing shaft.

I sighed as my head lulled back, feeling a wave of new pleasure wash through me. I ground my hips down against him, relishing the feeling of him inside me. “I would ask if that felt good, but you answered that already,” he chuckled.

“Tell me what to do,” I gasped, cupping his face.

His hands gripped my hips and guided me in a back and forth rhythm. “Just move your hips like so,” he managed thickly. He sighed and lolled his head back in pleasure, his hands gripping my hips, as I found it quite easy to keep my hips moving the way he wanted.

His eyes opened and met mine. With his sea-glass eyes piercing me, I decided on a whim to swirl my hips against him, grinding into him. He groaned and lifted his hips up, bucking into me. I let out a moan of pleasure and as I thrust my hips against him, I leaned down, pressing our chests together, my hands sliding through his loose hair.

Roderick’s hands slid up my back, causing me to shiver into him; I pressed myself further against him my breasts wanting the attention of his mouth, but God, did I want to find release. I jerked my hips harder against him and he groaned low in his throat, his hips keeping time with mine.

I leaned my face against his and wrapped my arms around him tightly. I moved harder and faster against him, feeling pleasure mounting in my body, and I felt Roderick keep time with me. His hands shifted each time to where I wanted them, but as his breaths hitched and our movements against each other became harder and faster, his hands strayed to my hips. And he gripped them hard as he moved.

Roderick gasped hard on an intake of air and I felt his shaft throb into me in release and I ground myself against him so he was deep inside as I felt myself tighten in climax over him. I cupped his face as I gasped in pleasure, before both our bodies relaxed against the other.

My husband smirked as he looked me over, our chests rising and falling rapidly together. “How did you find this position, leannan?” he managed.

“I quite liked it,” I admitted. “But I—” I stopped as I ran my hands over his warm shoulders and down his chest.

“But what?” he whispered, letting a hand slid up to cup my face.

I leaned against his palm before I pressed my lips against his. “I know you mut travel tomorrow, but I want more, Roderick.”

“More?” he repeated.

I nodded. “Sorry, I just…it felt—”

“I will give you more,” he interrupted.

“But if you—”

“I will sleep in the carriage if I must,” he answered. He wrapped an arm beneath my bottom and slid himself out of me. “I will give you what you ask for.” Roderick gripped my legs and, astonishingly, he stood with my weight, and I wrapped my limbs around him.

“Now I’m going to take you on the bed,” he said, and he walked with purpose over to the bed and laid me down on my back, my bottom just barely on the edge of the mattress. “Can I take you hard and fast, Eleanora?”

I gasped, looking up at him. “How ever you want me,” I managed.

“Bòidheach,” he groaned and he spread my legs around his hips. I watched as he entered me again with ease and hooked my legs over his hands, keeping them spread at the width he wanted.

His hips started to move slowly against me, our eyes meeting as he moved. Just as I was about to ask about the hard and fast part his hips gained speed and bucked hard into me. I gave a ragged gasp at the painful pleasure and gripped the comforter. Our eyes stayed on one another as his hips bucked in different rhythms and in varying strength.

Roderick’s eyes raked over me as he jerked me against the bed, watching as my breasts move in time with our movements. Groaning, my husband shifted my legs and closed them over his cock. I whimpered at the sudden pleasurable tightness inside me, and he leaned my legs against his chest as he worked us both. Our eyes met again and Roderick shook his head, and he slowed his pace as he moved my legs down until my hips were at an angle, my legs resting on the bed. He leaned over me, our lips barely meeting as he held himself up above me, his hips thrusting into me hard.

Pleasure was mounting in my body again and a moan caught in my throat as I closed my eyes and let my head fall back against the mattress. “Harder?” he asked.

I managed a nod and he thrust harder and deeper into me with a quickening rhythm. Gasps caught in my throat, and he bucked hard into me as my sheath tightened over his cock. My hands tightened into the blanket and I felt Roderick’s throbbing as he finished once more inside of me. Biting his lip he looked down at me, letting a hand run down my torso as he stood back up.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, and pulled himself from me.

Roderick did not wait to catch his breath, but lifted me from the bed and adjusted me so I was at the head, laying on the pillows of my side. Roderick climbed over me and into bed. He threw the blankets overs us and pulled me to his chest.

“Tha gaol agam ort,” he whispered against my forehead.

I sighed and nuzzled into him. “I don’t know what that means.”

“I will teach you.”

I stood on the front step in the low light of the early morning, dressed in a pale blue gown that I thought matched my mood. Next to me stood Edith and on my left stood Reuel as they waited for final instructions. Roderick handed Ronald his suitcase as the servant slid it into the carriage rack beneath the steps, while Roderick's bag of pens and documents were already safely tucked away in the carriage.

I tucked a loose piece of hair behind my ear as Roderick turned to me with a small, sheepish grin. He approached me and taking my hand, he bent his head low, kissing the backs of my fingers, and I was suddenly reminded where his hands and fingers had been last night. I unconsciously pressed a hand over my stomach as it fluttered with butterflies, the pleasurable ache between my legs still present.

I must’ve wore the memory on my face for as his eyes met mine, they sparkled with mischief. Letting my hand fall back to my side, he stepped closer to me.

“I hate to leave you for a trip so soon, leannan,” he said softly, cupping my face. “But Reuel here will watch over you and the house; and Edith shall keep you company while I am gone.”

I nodded, leaning into the warmth of his hands. “When will you return?” I asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

“I hope to be home Friday evening,” he answered, leaning in.

Roderick gently pressed his lips against mine, lingering for a long moment. I found myself reaching up and cupping his elbows, not wanting him to leave just yet. In fact, I had the strangest urge to take him by the hand and pull him back inside; and just as I was about to follow through, he pulled away slightly. 

“Tha gaol cho mòr agam ort, Eleanora,” he murmured, placing another kiss against my lips. “I will teach you what that means when I return.” He pressed a final kiss on my forehead, and let his arms fall as he backed away

He turned to Reuel and nodded to him. “Look after Mistress Forbes for me Reuel,” he said. I smiled and could not help the flip my stomach did as Roderick grinned saying my title.

“Aye, sir,” was the answer.

With a final wave and last look at me, Roderick strode to the carriage. I watched as he entered and shut the door behind himself. Ronald climbed into the driver’s seat, and they were off, heading further out of Wilton.

It was only when I felt Edith’s hand on my elbow that I realized I was still staring at the dust trail the carriage had kicked up as it turned around a bend in the road.

“Mistress?” she asked, bringing me back to the present. We were still standing out in the rising light of dawn.

I blinked and looked between her and Reuel, to find that Reuel was watching the road with a keen look in his eye. “Do you know if the piano forte instructor will be arriving today?”

“Master Malcolm will be here tomorrow morning,” she answered. “The gardeners are due to come this noon, however.”

I nodded. “What shall we do?” I asked. “I have never found myself so idle. Usually, I would have work to do.”

“Do you not wish to read in the gardens like you do every morning?” she asked.

“I—I suppose I could. But I have finished the one I started yesterday,” I answered softly. In truth, while I loved to read, I found that filling my mornings with reading was becoming old rather quickly. I had already devoured seven books out of the library, mostly about the proper courting romances that Roderick had recommended I read, and I was getting bored quickly.

“Come, Mistress,” she said. “Shall I make you some tea while you decide on a new book?”

I gave her a thin smile. “That sounds nice,” I answered as I followed Edith inside.

I stopped short just past the entry way, struck by an idea. I looked towards Roderick’s office with a mild interest as Reuel stepped around me, both of us watching as Edith made her way towards the kitchen.

“Do you think it would be alright if I perhaps read from one of Roderick’s law books?” I asked, unsure why I had been drawn to Reuel for my question. “I have been interested in learning exactly what it is he does.”

Reuel glanced over his shoulder to see that Edith had disappeared into the kitchen. “Master Forbes does not allow for anyone but himself and clients to enter his office—not even to clean. Without explicit instructions that you are allowed in, I do think it would be best to find another book, Mistress.”

I could not help my interest in his law books deepen, and I quirked an eyebrow. But I nodded, nonetheless. “Perhaps one of his books on philosophy?” I offered, turning towards the parlor where he kept the books on that man, Plato.

“Would you not rather read another romance book?” Reuel asked, following after me.

Surprised by the bold statement I turned and gave him a polite smile. “I have read seven of those since I have been here. I wish for something different.”

Reuel gave me a wry smile and nodded. “Yes, Mistress. Do you care to go to the gardens this morning then?”

I sighed as I walked up to the designated shelves. “I suppose I might as well stick to my routine I have built,” I replied.

“You are displeased,” he commented, as he watched me slide a book from the shelf.

“I suppose I am not used to just sitting around—by myself that is. I have at least had Roderick for company, but without him here—I suppose I am just at a loss. I want to work on something.”

“Perhaps needlepoint?” he offered as I walked out of the parlor.

“I have never done needlepoint. I am used to harder work, and I don’t feel quite right without it.”

I blinked out of my book feeling the afternoon sun beating down on the back of my head. The white gazebo I had taken my place under was quiet and a warm breeze blew, fluttering the leaves of my book. Reuel, who had made many circles about the garden since lunch, walked around a bed of rhododendrons some yards away. The clack of garden sheers sounded somewhere in the tall rose bushes behind me, and I thought that might have been the sound I heard, bringing me out of my reading.

Someways behind me I heard the whispering of the gardeners. “Have you seen the new Mistress Forbes, Raliegh?” asked one of the men.

“No, I have been on the northern side of the estate since our return.”

“She’s a mite young for him,” the first man said. “Comes from a poor family in Charles Town is what I heard.”

“And where did you hear that, Williams?”

I slowly closed the philosophy book on my finger and glanced over my shoulder towards the voices, feeling anxiety rush through me. Was everyone in Wilton saying such things? I glanced at Reuel who had already taken notice of my distraction.

“One of the generals in town. He was at the wedding, mind you,” this Williams said as Reuel approached.

Just as Reuel stepped beside me with the clear intention of asking what was wrong, the conversation continued. 

“What would a rich man want with a poor girl from Charles Town?”

“Dunno, I thought she was a whore he had taken up with before I saw her. But she’s a little mouse of a thing. A Scotsman wanting a whore would make more sense than the girl he took to wife.”

“Well, a pretty little virgin who will do everything he wants would suit him just fine, wouldn’t it?” Raliegh said.

I felt my face blush with embarrassment, and glanced at Reuel, who stood above me with a dark look on his face, glaring towards the rose bushes.

“Think he did it to buy her father out of a credit? You think he bought himself a wife? He must’ve been poorly to offer up his daughter to a Loyalist.”

“Eh, we don’t know Forbes’s affiliations, he keeps that to himself,” Raliegh said. “But, I doubt a Loyalist would buy a Patriot’s debts and then give them a week off with pay because he got married.”

“True enough, I suppose, but he has questionable loyalties. Look at his friends that come around.”

I stood up, not wanting to hear anymore. I may not know much about Roderick or his beliefs, but he was kind to me, and that meant a great deal. Didn’t it?

Before I could leave the gazebo, Reuel marched off the steps, towards the voices. “Do you two not have anything better to do than gossip about your employer?” Reuel asked loudly. “I suggest you both separate before I retrieve the Mistress and have you both dismissed.”

I swallowed at the threat Reuel gave. I certainly would not be able to hold my own against these two men, but it seemed I did not need to worry, Reuel’s threat worked.

“Aye. I’ll just be over in the vegetable patches then,” came Raliegh’s voice.

Reuel returned to the gazebo with his chin raised and a proud gleam in his eye. He smiled at me as he approached, and offered his hand. “Come Mistress, let us go inside.”

I gave him a thin smile, as I took his hand, letting him lead me down the garden path. “Reuel,” I said as we approached the back door.

“Yes, Mistress?” he asked.

“Is…uhm… is everyone saying such things about myself and Roderick?” I said in a voice softer than I meant. My stomach churned with anxiety and my skin prickled with embarrassment.

“Not the ones who matter,” he answered.

“But it is still being said.”

“People will talk Mistress, you should not let it bother you.”

I placed a hand over my stomach, willing the churning to calm. “I suppose you are right. I just wished to have a fresh start here.”

At the back door Reuel stopped me at the kitchens entrance and bowed low. “You have one, if I may be so bold to say so.” I gave Reuel another thin smile. “Mistress, I was left instructions to go to the market today. Will you be alright with Edith and John?” he asked.

Keeping the surprise from my face, I nodded. “Usually, Edith goes with you or Ronald,” I commented.

He smiled. “These are special circumstances with the Master of the House gone,” he answered easily.

I shrugged a nod. “I suppose so. Well, I will take my book off to the parlor then.”

“As you will Mistress,” he answered.

I did not turn back around until I was inside the door, closing it softly behind me. But as I did so I found Reuel’s eyes on me. For a moment only did I question it before he turned and took himself off to the stables some distance off.

It wasn’t until I was summoned by John for a late meal that I felt the lonely pang in my stomach again. I walked into the dining room to find my usual place made up of a single serving of roasted chicken and all the fixings. The curtains were pulled back, letting in the failing light of the day.

I sank into my chair and watched as John poured me a glass of wine. “Thank you, John,” I said quietly to the elderly man.

“You are welcome, Mistress.”

“If you would like, you all may come eat dinner in here with me,” I offered, as he turned to go back into the kitchen.

The elderly man smiled. “It is not proper, Mistress. Besides, Reuel only just got in and he will stink of horse.”

I smiled and nodded, before turning back to my food. I sighed and picked up my fork, ready to eat my meal alone. With the lack of conversation and the general quiet of the house, I heard the faint sound of the kitchen door closing.

“What’s all this?” came Edith’s voice.

“I went to the market,” was Reuel’s reply.

“The Mistress sent you to the market for all of this?” was John’s question.

“Well, no, I went myself.”

“But we don’t need any of this at home,” Edith replied.

“It’s not for home, it’s for the Mistress.”

“You spent the Mistress Forbes’s money without her permission?” John snapped.

“No, this all came out of my own wages. Father, before you say anything, you did not hear what those gardeners were saying about the Master and Mistress. She did. And I thought something like this would cheer her up.”

“Cheer her up!” scoffed John. “It is not your place, boy, to buy things for your employers!”

My curiosity was piqued. I could not help but quietly get up from my seat and tiptoe over to the kitchen entrance.

“And buying something the Mistress will have to work on!” came Edith’s comment.

“She seemed to enjoy baking with Master Forbes,” was the belated answer.

“But that was of her own volition! You are making grand assumptions!”

“She came from a bakery, I just thought—”

“Oh, Reuel, you damned fool!”

“Son—” John sighed.

Worried a beating might befall Reuel, I knocked on the kitchen door before I opened it. The three servants whipped around to see me standing there. On the counter I saw two large baskets full of flour, sugar, blueberries, and other necessary baking items.

“Is something the matter?” I asked, pretending I had not just heard everything. “I heard raised voices.”

Edith forced a smile and walked over to me. “No, Mistress,” she began, glancing back to her in-laws. “It’s just—”

“I bought you some baking items that in hindsight may have been in poor taste,” Reuel admitted, placing his hands behind his back.

“You…bought me…something?” I asked slowly, coming into the kitchen.

“Yes, Mistress,” Reuel replied. “I thought it would cheer you up. Forgive me if I have over stepped.”

Knowing in my heart Reuel had certainly overstepped propriety, I could not help but smile broadly as I looked into the baskets. Belatedly I realized all three of them were waiting for me to say something.

“What’s done is done,” I began softly. “We might as well use the ingredients. Perhaps we could back something to welcome Roderick home.”

The three servants eyed each other for a moment before nodding. “As you wish Mistress Forbes,” John said. “I shall put the ingredients away until they are wanted.”

“In the meantime Mistress, you ought to eat before your food gets too cold,” Edith said, offering her arm to lead me back into the dining room.

I nodded and let her take my arm, but I turned back to Reuel. “Thank you Reuel, it was a kind gesture,” I said over my shoulder.

He smiled at me and bowed low.