Some Desperate Glory—Chapter 3
When the night of Will's engagement ball arrived, James found himself watching Beth carefully. She was painfully polite to everyone she met, but she said neither said nor did anything beyond what that politeness dictated. James, unable to watch any longer, took himself out into the slightly cooler night air for a long walk and a quiet cigar. He was surprised, then, sometime later, to come across Beth sitting alone on a bench tucked into a quiet, far recess of the garden. Like many such places, she was hidden from the curious eyes of others out for a simple stroll around the Cameron's large, meandering gardens, though she was fortunate a pair of lovers looking for privacy hadn't found her. Like many planter's gardens—those who had elaborate English-style gardens, anyway—there were always hidden places.
She looked fearful when he first walked around a wall of hedge, but she quickly masked it. That reaction dismayed him. He wondered if he really had frightened her that afternoon by the river. Beth stood, smoothed the fashionable pink gown she wore. It was not a hue that suited her coloring. James couldn't imagine what had possessed her to wear it. Perhaps she believed it would make herself unattractive—not, he thought, that she could manage that no matter how she might try.
"I ran away," she blurted, coming to her feet and breathing hard as though she had, indeed, run. "I couldn't stand it any longer."
James silently watched her fight for control of her feelings, and while he was sympathetic, it disturbed him to see her lose even a little bit of control. Almost every time he had seen her, she had remained tightly in command of her emotions. He could, though, understand how she might feel overwhelmed now. She was, after all, surrounded by strangers, many of whom gossiped incessantly and unkindly about her. Admittedly, she had been among them long enough they should no longer be strangers, but he knew she had formed no apparent friendships. "You can't stay here. You should return to the ball."
He watched her control her breathing, watched her struggle to calm herself, and then, to his horror, she burst into tears. Somehow, James had not thought her the sort to do so, but she was female, and she was clearly under great strain. Wordlessly, he handed her a handkerchief. She took it, sank back on the bench, and buried her face in the linen. She didn't sob, or if she did, she made no noise. James found that incredibly curious. He'd yet to meet a female before now who didn't wail loudly and long when she was overset.
"Beth," he said softly, and she raised her face just enough he could see her eyes above the fabric she still held over her lower face. Something twisted inside him. "You cannot do this," he said. Not one of his more intelligent statements, he supposed, and he considered what it might be for which he admonished her
She closed her eyes and sucked in a breath. "I cannot do what, James?"
Marry Will, he wanted to say. That was at the heart of his reaction, he realized. She was completely wrong for Will, but it was her decision to make—and she had already done exactly that. "You must go back in," he told her instead, mainly because he recognized a desire to hold her, comfort her, but for both their sakes, he had to get her away from him.
"I can't," she said, and her voice shook. "I can't take another moment of being picked apart, looked at like—like—like something they've scraped off their boots or found under an overturned rock. I can't bear another second of being ignored like I'm a simpleton."
He sympathized, for that was exactly how she'd been treated. "Beth—"
She glared at him then, dropped her hands to her lap and firmed her jaw. In that moment, as her spine snapped straight and her chin rose, he felt his body catch fire. He liked Beth best when she showed that inner strength of character. "Do not tell me, James, that I am imagining it."
"No, Beth, you aren't," he agreed, "but that's the way things are."
"I don't like the way things are," she said, and he noticed the tears were gone, replaced by anger. "You Americans," and there was a distinct sneer there that made his jaw tighten, not least because he was a subject of the English crown, "you go on and on about how things are different here, but they're no different here than they are in Europe—or anywhere else, for that matter."
He raised a brow at her vehemence. "You Europeans taught us."
Her shoulders sagged suddenly, and she dropped her eyes to the ground. He heard a soft sniffle. Just as he was about to say something, she straightened her shoulders again and swallowed. She wiped her face once more, and she put on what he was beginning to think of as her princess face, the impassive mask she'd mostly shown the rest of South Carolina. "You are correct," she said softly, her voice carefully regulated once more. "I have to go back and make the best of things."
As he watched, she stood gracefully, smoothed the skirts of the awful dress she wore and lifted her chin. She inclined her head slightly and stepped forward. He should have gotten out of the Princess's way, but instead he stepped into her path. She looked up at him disconcerted, and he leaned down and took her mouth. Their bodies strained against one another, and James's arms went around her as he devoured her mouth. She clung to him in return.
This was what he wanted, he knew, not those empty female shells in all their finery he'd find inside the ballroom.
Beth met his mouth as hungrily as he took hers.
He had the urge to ask her to go with him, to leave and leave immediately, but she tore her mouth from his and looked up at him. He could see her features clearly in the moonlight. She reached up and drew his head back down, but this kiss was different, gentle, rather sweet. When their mouths separated, she opened her eyes slowly. "Please release me, James."
His arms tightened a moment, though she made no move to push him away or even to release him. "Beth—"
She stopped him. "Don't," she breathed. She leaned up and took his mouth again for a moment. "We cannot."
He watched her the rest of the night, watched as she moved through the dance figures, spoke only when spoken to, and generally served as an ornament for Will. She was the perfect model of what their society claimed to expect in a woman, and James hated every second of it. It had never seemed so wrong before to watch a vibrant, intelligent woman pretend to be otherwise. The only moment she showed any animation the entire evening was when one of Benjamin Martin's children came tearing through the ballroom after another child James didn't recognize. For a moment the Princess smiled, but it was fleeting, gone in an instant.
When the toasts were made to Will and the princess, the corners of her mouth trembled, turned up, but it was no true smile. James found himself unable to drink as he watched her go through the motions.
-X-
James thought about her more often in the next week and a half than he should, though he did see her but once. She rode past him with Honoria Cameron and one of the Cameron grooms along the lane to Oak Point. He was certain he had not imagined her sidelong look at him. He was bare-chested, worked with two of the slaves to pull the stump of an old oak that had been struck by lightning the night before. He thought she looked thinner, paler, and he reminded himself that it was no concern of his.
When he arrived home for supper, his mother and Katy told him all about the afternoon visit. There was no room at the Cameron's for the Princess's family, and she and Honoria had come to ask if the Wilkinses would be so kind as to put them up. James cut his mother off before she could launch into what he felt certain would be a tirade along the lines of how-dare-she and the-nerve-of-her. Personally, James thought it showed appalling manners on the Cameron's part not to offer a place to Beth's family where she would have them close by, so he said, "Certainly they may stay at Oak Point."
His mother looked rather like a landed fish, and his sister was going an interesting shade of puce. James put his spoon in his soup and decided he didn't care. He was master of this house, and he figured Beth's family might need whatever kindness could be afforded them. He swallowed his mouthful of soup and assured his mother he would let Will know the du Mares, or Ramsdells, or whatever the hell their names were, were welcome in his home.
So it was that three weeks before the wedding he was once more on the dockside, this time with Will, Beth, Honoria and Katy to welcome Regalia and Beth's brother and sister. The brother was of middling height and so like Beth there was no mistaking the relationship. The sister, though, was a lively little blonde with violet eyes. James took an immediate liking to young Princess Arianna. He wondered if Beth had been like this engaging sprite when she had been a child. The brother rode with Will and James while the women and child rode in the carriage. The boy was a rather pretty lad, and James thought Beth might have taken lessons in how to be reserved from him. He introduced himself as Joran Ramsdell, though the irrepressible Princess Arianna had said to just call him Jorie.
As they rode, the boy eyed James suspiciously. He didn't say much on the journey, but to be fair, neither did Will nor James. There was no guided tour this time, and James kept his thoughts to himself, not trusting himself not to ask why the boy's family was marrying his sister to Will.
Will, Beth, and Honoria stayed to dinner that evening, and James found himself with Beth seated to his left and the Princess Arianna to his right at table. His mother had clearly decided that if he was going to open their home to the foreigners, and, worse, allow a child at table, then he could cope with them. He noticed she placed the prince, Joran, to her right and next to Katy. Princess Arianna kept up an amusing chatter when she wasn't asking questions about South Carolina and America, but Beth quietly picked at her food.
As was the custom, he, Will, and Prince Joran stood while the women left them for the parlor. James asked if the other two would mind adjourning to his study, and when they were all seated with a glass of whiskey and Will had launched into a story from his trip overseas, James watched the boy. He had a hard time thinking of Ramsdell as a man since the boy looked far younger than Beth did. He had grey rather than green eyes and blonder hair than his sister. His face was curiously soft and rounded, and James, who had had a bit more wine than he usually would, fleetingly thought he could have passed for a girl.
When Will's story wound down, James looked up from his glass to find the prince studying him. That serious gray gaze disconcerted him. One of the servants entered quietly and refilled their glasses, and Ramsdell took the opportunity to say quietly, "My sister says you've been kind to her, and I thank you for that."
James had no answer, and it was probably just as well. "Her Highness mentioned that you and your younger sister were the only members of your family who would attend the wedding."
Ramsdell nodded. "Sadly, our mother has been ill, and our father cannot neglect his duty. I would have come alone, but it seemed best to bring Arianna."
He would have asked why, but Will entered the conversation then. "What about Ghislaine?"
The boy sipped his whiskey. "She . . . she was concerned that her presence might exacerbate Anna-Elizabeth's situation."
James knew what the boy was getting at, but it still surprised James that Will looked confused. "What does that mean?"
It interested James that the boy suddenly wore a version of Beth's princess face. "I understand that my sister has, apparently, made what some of your neighbors consider social faux pas. Ghislaine was worried that as the heiress to the Falken title, her presence would simply make things worse for our sister, especially if they knew who she was." The young man suddenly looked into his glass. "Ghislaine rarely travels outside our homeland because so few people understand her position."
When they rejoined the ladies, Arianna plopped herself down next to James and fired barrage after barrage of questions at him. He answered her easily, aware that his mother, sister, and Honoria were growing more and more irritated as the little princess monopolized his attention. Anna-Elizabeth finally stood and said quietly, "Why do you not show me where you will be staying, Arie?" and the sisters excused themselves.
James found he enjoyed talking to the animated girl princess more than he did those remaining in the parlor. Honoria and Katy engaged Beth's brother in conversation, and James listened with only half an ear, taken with the idea of Beth upstairs in the family quarters. As her absence lengthened, he assumed she was putting her sister to bed. He wondered how long it might be before she would put her own children to bed—assuming she didn't leave it as so many women did to servants. Somehow, he didn't think Beth was the kind of woman who would allow someone else to tuck her children in at night if she were available for the task.
He chastised himself for those thoughts. He hardly knew the woman, after all, and he was likely only transferring what he believed a wife and mother should do onto Beth.
When she quietly returned, James stood with the other two men and watched her cross to sit beside Will, and he tried to not resent that she could not take the seat beside him vacated by her little sister.
After Will, his sister, and the princess left, James's mother and sister excused themselves and retired. James found himself offering the prince another drink. They returned to James's study, and he splashed whiskey in two glasses before handing one to the younger man.
The lad took a seat and crossed his legs before turning a thoughtful gaze on James. "My sister is not happy," he said quietly, and James watched the boy's brows lift.
"I wouldn't know," he said, convinced it would be dangerous to agree—though he did agree.
Ramsdell sipped his whiskey. "I did not want Anna-Elizabeth to come here."
"Then why did you give permission for her to marry Will?" James sipped his own whiskey and thought he should have kept his mouth shut.
The other man studied his glass. "I didn't have the right to deny her," he said quietly. "My mother saw a pretty face, a wealthy man who could keep Anna-Elizabeth comfortably. Most of all, she saw a man who would take my sister away from very painful memories, so she gave her to him."
James should have stopped his question, but it was out before his brain caught up with his mouth. "What painful memories?"
Ramsdell tilted his head. "That's Anna's story to tell." Ramsdell changed the subject then, asked about Oak Point, and James told him about the property. When prompted, he talked about his family history. It wasn't until he had retired to his room that it dawned on James that the questions Beth's brother asked would have been more appropriately addressed to Will about Hart's Crossing. James supposed, as he shed his clothes and crawled into his bed, that Ramsdell had already asked them.
The next morning he took the time to escort Ramsdell and the Princess Arianna to the Cameron plantation. He went inside for a little piece, but he soon excused himself to return to his own property and the work that awaited him.
That set the pattern of his days until the wedding, though once he was sure Ramsdell could find the way, he no longer escorted him and his younger sister. James had already decided it would be better if he kept his distance from the princess. He heard from Katy, who accompanied them more often than not, that Beth was proving more difficult about some of the details than Will and his family had expected. Apparently, Beth refused to wear more fashionable wedding clothes than those she had arrived with. James failed to see the point, and Katy was quite put out with him, exclaimed impatiently that "she will embarrass them, James!"
In his view, a gown was a gown, and as long as it covered what it should, he simply couldn't see what the problem was.
The night before the wedding, he mounted his horse and rode over to Hart's Crossing for dinner instead of riding in the carriage with his mother, sister, and the prince and little princess. Afterward, he and some of Will's friends would celebrate Will's last night of freedom with the groom at a nearby tavern. During dinner, Beth looked wan, tired, and sadder than he had ever seen her. James wondered if she had second thoughts about marrying Will, and he found he couldn't exactly blame her. She had come face to face with who Will was, and much as James loved his friend, he was not blind to his faults. Marriage to Will would eventually break her, and James's concern for her was on this account. James thought it a shame that she would have to disguise her intelligence in order to survive joining the Cameron family. After all, Helen could not tolerate an intelligent woman who might dare challenge her as the family's matriarch. James watched Beth where she sat next to her sister and wondered if a quick pregnancy and the distraction of a child of her own might not be best for her.
As he thought it, though, he frowned, disliked the idea that Beth might spend her days with only her children to love her. He blinked. He barely knew the woman, and he had certainly never been so concerned about the welfare of any woman to whom he was not related as he was about Beth's. She smiled at her little sister, who had whispered something and now grinned unrepentantly, and when she laughed, the light sound did something to him. He felt the desire to join them, to touch Beth, to lean in and kiss her. He found himself wondering what it would be like to be the man she would meet in front of the reverend tomorrow.
He studied her. She liked him, he was certain of it, and he was tempted to draw her aside somehow, suggest she leave with him, elope, and that shocked him to his core. Throughout his life, he had mostly done the things expected of him, but this, this particular impulse was outside the realm of acceptable behavior. Making matters worse, it was his best friend whose betrayal he contemplated. The scandal would drive a wedge between their families, but the scandal would die down. Beth might find several doors closed to her, James might pay business penalties, but he would not expect her to hide who she truly was the way she had done more and more as she was subjugated to the will of the Camerons. As he watched, she hugged Arianna to her and rested her cheek against the child's head. As Beth met his eyes, James wished she were his, wished it was their child she held so fondly.
James tore his gaze from her before he betrayed what he was thinking.
It was past time to find a wife of his own, he reminded himself. Once Will was married, James would devote himself to that particular task, he vowed.
When the men adjourned to a tavern to mourn Will's loss of freedom, James was subdued. Somehow, he had fallen in love with his best friend's fiancée. He would stand beside his old friend as he married the woman James now knew he wanted for his own. Because he was an honorable man, he would do his duty, would wish them well, and he would hope like hell Will came to understand what a treasure he had.
-X-
The next morning, James dressed in his best clothes and escorted his mother, sister, and Ramsdell to Hart's Crossing. Beth had, apparently, kept Arianna with her the night before. Ramsdell wore a military uniform, his hair in an odd, elaborate queue. They found the Cameron home in a mild form of chaos. The wedding would take place on the grounds of the plantation rather than their local church. Because Beth was a Catholic, the priest had refused to marry them in the Anglican parish church the Cameron's attended unless she converted, and she firmly refused to do so.
As he strode into the entryway, Arianna came down the stairs dressed in a charming dark blue dress. She was cross, and when she saw James, she went straight to him. The girl didn't stand on ceremony, didn't even acknowledge his bow. She planted her feet directly in front of his, balled her fists onto her hips, and tilted her head up to see him. "They're trying to make Beth wear some ugly yellow rags that will make her look dreadful."
James could just imagine. The other thing he had noticed about the relationship between Beth and her new family was how hard the Cameron women worked to make her less attractive. James didn't think it would be possible to make Beth ugly, but he granted they could minimize her charms.
"Are they winning the battle?" he asked.
Arianna dimpled. "Oh, hell, no," she said, and clapped her tiny hands over her mouth.
James bit back a smile, lifted a brow. "Would you care to amend that, Your Highness?"
The little princess's eyes danced. "Beth has yet to be persuaded not to wear the gown she brought to be married in," she said in a prim little voice.
He wondered again if Beth had been like this as a child, but somehow he suspected not.
"Her gown is the same blue silk that represents her title and lands, which is a color almost as important as the du Mare scarlet in our country. She can't get married in scarlet, so she chose the blue." Arianna scowled up the stairs behind her a moment. "They say she can't wear the blue because that Honoria is wearing a blue gown. Hers is just a pale blue and isn't the same thing at all. They also don't like Beth's petticoat, say it isn't at all fashionable and will embarrass Will." Princess Arianna then narrowed those remarkable eyes of hers and gave him a thoughtful look. James grew uneasy under her sharp, measuring stare. "Do you have a pistol?"
Amused, though he suspected he shouldn't be since she looked completely serious, James put on an equally grave expression. "I do, but I didn't bring it with me." It was only a little lie. He had two in his saddlebag.
"Pity," Arianna sighed and dropped her hands to her sides before earnestly telling him, "I would like to shoot one of them if they make Beth cry."
Part of him deeply sympathized with her wish. "Can you shoot?" he asked.
She gave him a disgusted look, narrowed her eyes, and once again planted her fists on her hips. "I am a du Mare," she said haughtily. "Of course, I can."
Staring down at her, resisting the urge to laugh, he hoped that Arianna managed to hold on to some of her arrogance and self-assurance when she was Beth's age. He crouched down and met her eyes. "I tell you what," he said quietly, "if they make her cry, I'll find you a pistol."
The young princess dimpled. "I like you, James Wilkins."
"I like you, too, Your Highness," he returned.
She eyed him seriously a moment. "I would like for you to call me Arie," she said with a quiet dignity.
He had already figured out that being invited to use a shortened form of the names of Beth's family members was a privilege accorded to few. He regretted that he could not ask her to call him James in return. Arianna's look turned sympathetic, as if she understood his thoughts, and then she looked around. "You're Beth's friend," she said softly when her now-troubled gaze returned to his. "Promise me you will take care of her when we're gone."
Beth had said the child was seven, but the look she gave him belonged to someone much older. "Shouldn't you ask that of Will?"
Arianna's brows rose. "My mother says men never take care of women, except when they may gain something for themselves from doing so. I think she's wrong." The girl frowned a moment. "Well, I think she may be right where Will's concerned, but I think you will make sure nothing bad happens to Beth."
Ramsdell came into sight then, and James stood, bowed.
"I hope my sister has not been trying your patience," the younger man said.
James assured him that was not the case and then excused himself to find Will. As he made his way along the upstairs gallery, he heard Helen Cameron berating Beth about the gown, but he tuned it out, reminded himself it was none of his business. He found Will in his room. His old friend lay on his bed clad in his trousers and shirt. Closing the door quietly behind him, James grinned. Will sat up and grinned back.
"Funny," Will said, "but somehow I always thought you'd beat me to the altar."
As he dropped into the chair near the window, James eyed his friend. "Not sure I plan to get married," James said.
Will's grin broadened, though there was an edge to it. "Your mama and mine have been comparing notes, old man. I suspect your dance card is already lined up with eligible young ladies."
"Well," he grinned, "so long as I get at least one with the bride, I think I can survive all the scheming mamas present."
Will's grin faded a moment. "Is there something I should know, James?"
He scowled at Will, vowed to better guard his tongue. "No. I think you're well aware you're the luckiest bastard in South Carolina."
Will chuckled. "I am, aren't I?" he asked smugly. "And tonight, I'm the lucky bastard who gets to bed Anna-Elizabeth."
For a moment, James wondered if Will knew, if he had guessed how James felt about his bride. Then he was fighting to hide a sudden resentment that his old friend would have what he wanted for himself. "You are, indeed, a fortunate man," he observed, "but then so am I. I get to charm every eligible female in attendance without interference from you since you, my friend, will be firmly shackled to the princess."
There was something odd about Will's smile, but James shoved the thought aside. It wouldn't do to dwell on what he couldn't change. Within a matter of hours, Beth would be Will's wife and beyond James's reach. Will, on the other hand, would only have to pass a further few hours before he could take her.
They talked about old times, old scrapes, about the war, and about James's prospects in finding a bride. Will, like his mother, advanced Honoria as a suitable wife.
James stretched his legs and crossed his booted feet. "I mean no disrespect to your sister, Will, but it would be a little like marrying Katy."
He didn't think he imagined the odd look that crossed Will's face, and for a moment he wondered if his friend had second thoughts, if Will wished he had chosen a local girl for a bride. "Not into bedding your sister, I take it."
The disgust on his face must have amused Will, for the other man laughed.
Eventually, Will's father came to the room. He carried a bottle of whiskey and three glasses. They toasted Will, and Robert then turned his attention to James. "So when will we be celebrating your marriage, James?"
He shot a grin at Will. "Now see what you started?" James growled at his oldest friend. "They'll hound me to death until I leap off the same ledge." As he sipped his whiskey, it occurred to him that he would willingly jump if Beth were his prize.
By the time they needed to go down for the ceremony, they were all a little foxed. James thought he just might manage this after all, but when he looked up to see Beth walking toward them on her brother's arm, he indulged the brief fantasy that he was the man whom she approached. She had clearly won her battle, for she wore a gown the color of blue smoke, not yellow. It was form-fitting, the skirts were narrow, and the bodice was bordered with silver embroidery. It suited her, surprisingly set those green eyes of hers off, he noticed as she looked his way for a moment before Ramsdell placed her hand in Will's.
Within half an hour, she was Will's wife, and James played his part, smiled and congratulated the both of them. Beth's sister, little Arianna, tugged his sleeve and asked if he would kiss Beth, too. Will indulgently gave his permission, and James's lips touched her cheek briefly.
It was the most difficult thing he'd ever done, not catching her mouth with his.
Later, Arianna plopped down next to him on a bench in the garden and said, "I wish you had married Beth."
He looked at her mutinous face. "Your sister loves Will."
"Will's not a nice man. You are."
He tilted his head and looked at the little girl beside him. He would rather she had denied Beth loved Will, he thought, but that was a dangerous thought. "Will's nice." Arianna stared at him, and he raised his wine glass to his lips, sipped the liquid inside.
"He's not nice to Beth," she declared angrily. "He hurts her."
James didn't believe that for a moment, but he wasn't going to argue with the little girl beside him. His eyes sought Beth where she stood stiffly beside her new husband.
Arianna tugged his sleeve, and he turned his attention back to her. "Will you promise me you will help her if she needs you?"
The girl had tears in her violet eyes, and James knew she believed what she had told him. It wouldn't hurt to make the promise, he thought, if it made her feel better. Besides, if Beth truly needed him, he knew he would help her. "I promise," he said quietly.
She nodded firmly once. "Good. I don't want to leave Beth here with no one to look out for her."
There was food and alcohol, and James indulged, more in the latter than the prior. When it was time for his dance with Beth, he briefly considered backing out. As he took his place, he reminded himself that she was not his, but then he made the mistake of looking into her eyes as they began moving through the figures. "James," she whispered as their hands met and they passed closely together.
He looked away, hoped the dance would be a short one. When he looked back, he saw that she stared at his waistcoat. He couldn't stand it. "Beth," he breathed, and her eyes lifted to his as they came close to one another again. "If you ever need me, you need only ask," he whispered quickly, but she looked away again.
"Thank you," she said, and looked back at him, with a faint smile.
The music ended, and he bowed. For the first time in their acquaintance, she made an obeisance to him, dropping into a curtsey that was inappropriate given their respective stations. James was well aware of the honor she did him. "Thank you for the dance, Mrs. Cameron," he said as Will came to claim his bride. He heard her husband hiss something as he moved her away.
He danced with Honoria, with several eligible heiresses he'd known his entire life, and in between he drank.
Robert joined him where he leaned against a tree smoking a cigar and offered him a bed for the night, but James knew he would be put in the room he usually used when he stayed with the Camerons. It connected to Will's dressing room. The last thing he wanted was to have to listen to Will bed his wife. As a result, when his mother and Katy were ready to leave, he mounted his horse and followed them home.
-X-
Neither he nor Ramsdell escaped the ill effects from their drinking at Will's wedding. The next day both men stayed inside and pursued quiet activities. Arianna, too, was subdued, and James was glad. He wasn't sure he could have borne her chatter. Even more, he could not have taken her earnest pleas for her sister.
The Ramsdells would soon board a ship, he reminded himself, and he could put Beth out of mind more easily with her brother and sister gone from his home. He resolved once more to do his duty, to find a suitable wife, to begin a family, and to let whatever it was he thought he felt for Beth fade.