Joan Smith: Delsie

“I must have a little time to think, to consider it. I am sure there is something wrong with it. It doesn’t seem right.”

“Time is what we do not have. Andrew is dying. While we sit here talking, he might be drawing his last breath.” He leaned forward from the settee, looking with those commanding eyes at her, pinning her to her chair, and his voice increased in pace, in urgency.

“Think of yourself! Such a chance as this is not likely to come to you again, Miss Sommers. You live alone, and lonely I should think, in this crabbed little room. What company can there possibly be for a woman like you in this village? Whom do you see nights? The fishermen and their wives? What do you do for entertainment, relaxation? You are an educated, cultured lady, one prepared for better than this menial existence you lead. Your short life is being squandered away in this place. Come to us, to your own sort of people, and lead a normal life. There are times when we must act with promptness and decision. This is one of those times for you, Miss Sommers. Come with me now, or I think you will regret it all the rest of your life.”

How had he known so accurately the points of her life to mention? She knew she would regret refusing. She swallowed and looked at him, uncertain, wavering.

“Come, there isn’t a moment to spare,” he said urgently, as he arose.

“Well, I’ll come, then,” she said, and she too got up, in a sort of trance, carried along by his words, his authoritative voice, by his very presence-the lord of the village. I still don’t have to marry him, she thought to herself. I can think about it while we drive to Grayshott’s house. If I change my mind, they can’t make me marry him.

“Get your things together,” he said.

“Oh-it will take a while. Can you come back later?”

“I’ll wait. Where are your bags?”

She had only one, stored under her bed. She went into the bedroom and whisked her garments from closet and bureau in five minutes. Made a quick trip into the tiny parlor to pick up a few oddments, books, really nothing to show for her life’s work, and was ready to go in ten minutes.

“I’ll take your case.” He picked up her bag, a large, square straw case, as easily as though it were empty, and very strange it looked, to see Lord deVigne carrying such a shabby article.

“I’d better say good-bye to Miss Frisk,” she said.

“There will be plenty of time for that later. You can come back and call on her. Do you owe her any money?”

“No, I have paid for the month in advance.” Just paid for December as well, but perhaps I’ll be back, she added to herself.

At the door, he beckoned towards his carriage. A footboy sprinted forward and took her case. “See Miss Sommers to the carriage. I’ll be with you directly,” he added to Delsie, then stepped back inside the house. In less than two minutes, he joined her in the carriage.

“I explained to Miss Frisk,” he said briefly.

“Explained in two minutes!” she objected.

“It would have taken a lady ten, which is why I chose to do it myself. I told her you would be calling on her soon.”

“You take a great deal on yourself, milord!” That he had commandeered her life was atrocious, but it was this straw of his arrogance that broke her temper. He would explain to Miss Frisk. He would decide that she would call soon.

“Forgive me,” he said, with no trace of penance. “These are exceptional circumstances. You will not always find me so overbearing.”

He placed a fur rug over her knees, and the horses bolted forward. It was an exhilarating experience, being inside, a carriage, for once. To see others staring in at her, their eyes widening as they recognized her. She could almost read their lips. “It’s Miss Sommers, the schoolteacher!”

“We’ll go directly to the Cottage,” he told her. “That’s what we call Mr. Grayshott’s place. The wedding will have to take place immediately, while he’s still conscious.”

“No-not so soon! I wanted time to consider it.”

“You have had a month in which to consider it, ma’am. Did you not regret your former decision? Tell me truthfully now, as you plodded to school in the early morning, or lay in your bed at night, did you not feel you had been overly hasty? Under this new circumstance of Andrew’s imminent death, are you not agreeable to marry him?”

Was the man a mind reader? She looked at him, much struck at his percipience. But when she spoke, she uttered an irrelevance. “How did the rest of the family get home? Surely you didn’t leave them at Questnow?”

“No, Sir Harold brought his coach today as well. I knew mine would be required to bring you and your effects to us.”

“You knew that , did you?” she asked ironically.

“Hoped,” he modified, with no more shame when it was needed than humility at his former arrogance.

“I suppose you arranged as well for the vicar to be there, knowing he would be required?”

“Certainly I did. The marriage could not be performed without him. He went with Sir Harold. The solicitor also will be there, to see to the will.”

“Well, you have forgotten one rather important detail, milord. There have been no banns read, and we cannot be married without a license in that case!” she stated triumphantly.

“You are surely not under twenty-one?” he asked.

“I am twenty-two, but still a license is required, if I am not mistaken.”

“Only twenty-two? What a strong character you have, for one so young.”

“About the license…”

“I have a license, Miss Sommers. I took the precaution of procuring one two days ago, when Andrew first came down with pneumonia, in case it should be necessary in a hurry.”

“I daresay you have got a gold band in your pocket as well,” she said, resigned to his omniscience.

“Did you want a gold band in particular, ma’am? I have selected a rather pretty circlet of diamond baguettes. I hope I chose the right size.”

She hadn’t a doubt in the world he had. “My bridesmaid and best man?” she inquired, suppressing a fierce urge to giggle.

“Lady Jane and myself. You have no objection?”

“None in the least. Where are we to go for our honeymoon?”

“No honeymoon will be possible, I’m afraid,” he replied blandly. “But you are young yet. There is no saying you will not have a real marriage before too many years, if you are interested in it at all.”

“I will be sure to put you in charge of arranging all the details,” she said, then stopped short, as she realized what freedom she was taking with the almighty Lord deVigne.

“You couldn’t do better,” he answered readily. Offense, like humility and shame, was missing when she expected to see it. He spoke on calmly, as though they were out for a Sunday drive, no more. “There will be a good many bothersome details in this business. As I have coerced you into the match, I shall attend to them all, to give you as little worry as possible.”

“That is very kind of you, but I have been accustomed for many years to looking after myself, milord.”

“The experience has left its trace on you. I do not mean that as a criticism. Quite the contrary.”

“I would appreciate being consulted at least on any details that have a direct bearing on me.”

“I will bear it in mind, ma’am,” he agreed, nodding at her.

“I must notify Mr. Umpton I will not be at school tomorrow.”

“Or any other tomorrows.” What a pleasing phrase! A wave of complete exultation washed over her, to be at last free of Umpton and the students. He spoke on, apparently unaware of her feelings. “I understand Mr. Umpton’s cousin, a Mr. Perkins, is interested in the position. Shall I get in touch with Umpton?”