My Name is Resolute

“Silly goose. You know in days of old, a man and a woman would ply their troth by the fast holding of hands. It was a quite tender tradition.”

 

 

“Along with a public blessing, it was. Here in this coach would not qualify, I believe. Tell me of your plantation in Virginia.”

 

“Why don’t I rather tell you of the other house I have purchased in Boston? It is that direction.” He raised a hand across me to raise the window shade.

 

I followed his finger and turned my head. “Which one?” I turned back to him in case he had not heard me. As I turned, I found he had leaned in against me to better reach the window and was still in that place, so that his face was less than an inch from my own. I felt soft breath near my cheek, saw the lashes on his eyes, the delicacy of his chiseled lips, so near my own. I said, “I do wonder what is keeping Serenity.”

 

“I bless whatever it is. The only serenity I shall ever know is in your presence.”

 

My mouth was as dry as if I had breathed dust. “Sir, you must give me air.”

 

In reply, he raised the hand with which he held mine, and kissed my fingertips, one at a time, while staring into my eyes. “I am bewitched by you, Miss Talbot. But surely you know that.”

 

“Do not speak of this, Mr. Spencer, unless you will answer me in truth. Have you proposed marriage to Serenity? Have you let her believe you are intended for her?” I licked my lips, fighting the dryness of my throat.

 

“No to both questions. Naturally, their family and mine have been long acquainted, and as we are young people, it is customary to befriend—but let us talk of what I do have and wish. I have houses and land. I have horses and coaches to carry you about and servants ready to do your bidding. Will you marry me?”

 

I knew not whether it was because of the hesitation in my eyes, or in spite of it, but when his lips covered mine with such tender caress, such pure feeling, I let myself wilt, enfolded in his arms, and we stayed thus, our lips pressed tightly, for many minutes. When at last he pulled away, I sank, breathless, against his neck. The crisp-softness of his clothing, the enticing strength of his arms, the kiss I had just known, all seemed too much to think about. I could do no more than just stay right where I was for a hundred years. As I caught my breath, I said, “I will marry you, Wallace. As soon as I get to Jamaica and find my mother. When I return I will marry you. Providing you tell Serenity.”

 

He pulled away, astonished. “That could take months.”

 

“We are young. We have all the future. Come with me.”

 

“Could you not send a letter and inquire?”

 

“I have tried. It served me not. Come with me. It will be a voyage to my past, and then I shall be yours for the future.”

 

He seemed to be pondering this. “Dear Resolute. Dear one, do not place this yoke upon me, upon us and our future. This is too dangerous, too lengthy. I should not allow you to go, either. As an engaged person you will have certain responsibilities. I would have us marry this fall. You have often told me how the season suits you.”

 

“We could marry in the plantation great house at Meager Bay. Ma would adore it.” I clutched his hands and smiled my most beguiling smile at him.

 

“Kiss me again, and tell me you cannot wait all that time to be wed.”

 

I kissed him again, and then pushed him away and said, “It is all I ask of you. Wait until I return, or take me to Jamaica. I have lived on no other wish for six years.”

 

His breath came hard and fast, as if he had run to this place. His eyes seemed to have grown larger and darker, and he said, “When Miss Roberts is finished with her errand we will go to a shipping master and inquire. Now is the best time of year to travel. Marry in the West Indies? It seems the perfect solution. We would not have to tell Miss Roberts, not hurt her so greatly, just travel there with me as your escort, and marry there, and come back husband and wife as if it were a natural occurrence, the happy accident of travel. She will be much the less harmed and you will be out of their home and so will suffer no ill accusation. After their recent bereavement, it would seem cruel to break her heart, don’t you agree? Of course you do. There, then. Dearest.”

 

The door to the shop rattled the wee bell which overhung it. The heat in the coach, combined with the thought of traveling unmarried with him, left me near to fainting. “Raise the shade, please,” I said.

 

“Of course.” He reached across me again and planted a quick kiss on my forehead as he sat back in the seat across from me.

 

Serenity opened the coach door, all asmile. “Why, it is dreadful hot in here! Why did you have these closed on this side?”

 

Wallace said, “There were common people passing by and peering in as if we were a curiosity.”