Before the Scarlet Dawn

6





When the beat of horses’ hooves and the roll of carriage wheels drew near, Eliza lifted her pen away from the paper, placed it back into the inkwell, and moved to the window. Along the hilltop that overlooked the vicarage, at the crossroads where the moon bathed the night sky deep purple and shone brightest, a gentleman’s carriage rambled toward her as a black silhouette.

As the carriage rumbled closer, she watched a lean figure leap down from a horse and sprint toward the house. A moment later, someone pounded upon the front door. Quick as she could, Eliza pulled on her day dress of brown linen instead of her robe. She took her candle in hand and went out into the hall, where she met Fiona. The woman had hastily donned her robe, and her cap sat awry above a pair of anxious eyes.

Fiona puffed out a breath. “At this hour? Who would be so rude as to wake us in the middle of the night?”

“We won’t know until we open the door.”

“I would not advise that,” Fiona said, following Eliza.

Together they hurried down the stairs to the door. Eliza reached for the latch.

“It may be the new vicar and his family arriving early.”

“Wait,” said Fiona in a low voice. “You cannot be too sure. Ask who it is first. It could be robbers.”

Wise words, Eliza agreed. “Who is there?” she called out. “What is it you want?”

“A messenger, ma’am, from Mr. Hayward Morgan.”

Setting the candle down, Eliza drew back the bolt and peered outside. On the doorstep stood the boy who had taken her horse the day she went to Havendale.

“Sorry to wake you. But he says it’s important, and waits in his carriage to speak to you.”

“Tell Mr. Morgan I shall meet with him.”

“Eliza?” said Fiona.

“Shh. Mr. Hayward has come all this way in the middle of the night, and it would be discourteous of me to send him away.”

With a nod, the boy hurried back to the carriage, where he leaned up and spoke through the window. Eliza snatched her cloak off the hook and swung it over her shoulders. Fiona looked worried. “Do not be anxious for me,” Eliza said. “Wait here by the door.”

She paused on the threshold to gather her courage and to calm the swift beating of her heart. Had he come to tell her he had changed his mind and wanted her? It had to be. Why else would a man go to such trouble so late at night? Eager, she stepped outside, with her hands hoisting her gown away from the dirt in the road. She walked past the horses to the carriage door. The boy opened it and moved aside.

Hayward held out a petitionary hand. “Will you sit inside with me a moment so we may speak?” This time his voice lacked condescension; it held a tone that said he hoped she would follow his request. “We must speak alone, you and I.”

He is taking me away to America with him. She lifted her chin. “I am already prepared to leave upon your father’s demand. Has he sent you to rush me out earlier than requested.”

His eyes glowed in the moonlight when he leaned forward. “Come inside and I will explain.”

Eliza took Hayward’s hand, climbed in, and sat opposite him. Darkness lay within the compartment, but still she could make out his eyes, and then his face, as the light from the coach lamps slipped through the window.

She drew back her hood, allowing her ebony locks to gently fall forward. She saw the sudden warm glimmer in his eyes and knew there would be no prejudice on his part or hindrance to what he had to say.

“Ever since the day you came to Havendale and offered to leave with me, my mind has not let go of it.”

His description of her proposal chafed her. “I offered to leave with you only as your wife. If you have come to suggest something different, you are wasting your time.”

Hayward drew back, looking stunned. “I have not forgotten your exact words, madam. I understood you meant marriage. I have fought the idea, but I must confess to you that I admire, dare I say adore you, though it has been from afar these years.”

Somewhat jubilant at his confession, Eliza held back, uncertain whether to believe him or not. This time she decided not to be so anxious. “I see. For years, you say?”

“Yes. I never imagined telling you, but I left you standing in the hall alone. I was very rude to you. No woman has ever stood up to me as you did. Nor has one made as much sense.”

“And you came all this way in the middle of the night to tell me this?”

“There is more to why I have come. That was just the preamble.”

“The rest?”

“I am leaving Havendale—tonight. I will be aboard a ship bound for America within the week. I am never coming back.”

Never? The very word pricked her. “That is a pity. You have only been back such a short while. But it comes as no surprise to me. You made it clear you would be leaving. And so you should, now that you have land and . . .”

He leaned forward and looked into her eyes. “Eliza, stop talking.”

The silence grew taut, and she wished she could turn into his arms. But she moved to the door and held out her hand. “I wish you well. Goodbye.”

The second she put her hand on the latch to open the door, Hayward clapped his hand over hers and pulled her close. “Not goodbye. Not if you meant what you said before.”

The warmth of his hand in hers and his nearness to her caused her breath to quicken. “I do not lie. I meant every word.”

His eyes locked onto hers. “For love alone?”

She lowered her gaze. “You may not understand, but it is true.”

“But I do not feel as you do. I have no idea what it means to be in love, the way women describe it. I can love you for your beauty, for your passion for life, but a man does not feel as deeply as a woman.”

He does not know, Lord, that what he says is wrong. Show him, please, what love means.

“So despite that, will you have me as I am, Eliza, and come away with me? I think it would solve both our problems.”

Her mouth parted, but she could not get the words out.

“It will be a difficult life at first—far different from here,” he said. “I am willing to accept you as my wife, if you are willing to accept the kind of life I offer you and make no demands on me in the way of lavish living. Though I have money, I must be frugal.”

She lifted her eyes, her conviction growing stronger. “I am willing. I am convinced of my course.”

“There is something else you need to know before saying yes. My father will denounce me when he learns I have married you.”

“But the banns will be posted and he will know beforehand.”

“Not if we leave tonight and go to Gretna Green.”

“Scotland?”

“It will be a long journey. But we can marry without the restrictions of English laws.”

“In God’s eyes?”

“In God’s eyes . . . Once, I would have agreed with my father that you are not a suitable wife for me due to your class, but then you have come back to haunt my thoughts day and night. Among all the women I have known, I have not met one with your determination or courage.”

“I thank you for the compliment. But your mother? I cannot help but think of the heartbreak this will cause her, the pain of being separated from you. She is acquainted with such, I believe.”

“Ah, I see. You are thinking of my half brother leaving England to seek his fortune. Though I seriously doubt he shall find it as a botanist.”

“With you gone, your mother will have no one.”

“Indeed, she will be grieved that I follow in Will’s footsteps. But time will mend her sorrow. She has practically forgotten her firstborn . . . She will forget me as well.”

Bewildered that this could happen, Eliza said, “I cannot hurt her.”

He drew her close. “You are hurting no one.”

“Then promise you will try to make things right with your father. You must ease their disappointment somehow.”

“I am not accustomed to a woman telling me what to do. But if it pleases you, I shall write to them and explain everything. But there is no guarantee things will change.”

“Well, at least you would have tried. I would have thought your father would be proud of the accomplishment you have made in America. Perhaps in time, he will be.” For a moment she looked deeply into his eyes. “You are certain, beyond all doubt, you want me as your wife? You will hold to me and no other for the rest of your life?”

“I am a man of my word, Eliza. I take seriously this matter of marrying you.” He gently kissed her cheek. Up to this point, she had been only hopeful, not fully persuaded—not until this expression of tender emotion.

“It is exciting to think of beginning a new life in a new land, is it not?”

Eliza smiled. “Yes.” She poked her head out. “We are leaving to marry, Fiona.”

Wide-eyed, Fiona quickly turned back inside the house. Moments later, and breathless from rushing about, she reappeared on the doorstep with their belongings in hand, dressed with a cloak of old gray wool over her shoulders. “Good thing we were already packed and ready to go, my girl. I hope I have not forgotten anything.”

“Quick, Fiona,” Hayward said, stepping out and striding to his horse. “If you intend to come with us, then close the door behind you and climb inside.”