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She felt horrible praying that Caelan would escape her father’s clutches as she should be more faithful to her father. That featly, however, had been broken the moment she had found out that her father had lied to her about Caelan.
The day before when her father had asked her why she had gone to see him, Adelaine knew that if she did dare utter that she had fallen in love with him, she would be shipped off to the nunnery without question. She had looked at her father in his eyes and said that she had gone to see what kind of monster the Scotsman was.
It had taken him a while to believe her but she had stuck to her word and was even able to slip in that yes, she had gone there for his confession too. Eventually, her father had accepted her reasons and then, he had spoken to her about her ‘shameful’ act with Islington.
She had sat through a long lecture about how she had acted like a foolish girl and not the lady he had expected her to do. Her father told her he was sending for Islington to come the next day and she must have an apology for the young Viscount ready.
“And a man like him is not going to offer to marry you twice,” her father had glowered. “Don’t believe those foolish stories you read. I will have you know that real life is far removed from those. Tell the man yes.”
Now, she was in the middle of the chapel tryin
g to ask God for forgiveness on both fronts, protecting Caelan from her father and asking pardon for lying to Islington. He might be her only current hope for marriage, well, one her father would approve off anyway, and since the man she loved was far off, she decided to accept Islington’s proposal. She was going to make some stipulations though.
Hearing the door open, she twisted to look and found Martha coming toward her. She could anticipate what her maid was coming to say and felt her lips flatten. Martha sat beside her but did not speak so Adelaine did it for her.
“Islington is on his way, correct?”
“Probably,” Martha replied. “I came to see how you’re doing.”
“I could be better,” Adelaine sighed. “If I was not worrying so much… about…”
“Do you think he made it home yet?” Martha asked.
“It takes three days so…” she shrugged. “I don’t even know if his…comrades found him. I’m beleaguered with thinking that his weakened body is laying on a forest floor with crows picking out his eyes.”
“Weakened?”
Adelaine looked back to the jagged cross, “He had one meal per day, Martha, until I begged Mrs. Hertha to give him something vaguely healthy. At least Father had not starved him. I’m worried that I sent him to his death.”
Martha took her cold hand and squeezed it. “You must have faith, My Lady. I’m sure his comrades would not stop searching for him until they found him and even then, they would give him the best care.”
“I can only hope so,” Adelaine agreed. She paused then admitted, “Father is making me marry Islington…do you think I can do it while my heart is somewhere else…with someone else?”
“I’ve heard that there is a medium between being in love and being content,” Martha said. “Do you think you can be the latter?”
“I’ll have to make do,” Adelaine said as she stood from her pew. “I think it’s best for us to get me ready for Islington.”
They left the stone chapel quickly and hurried to the main house. Entering, she went to her room while thinking about what dress would give her a look that would make Islington think she truly wanted to marry him. There was a dress she shied away from wearing for a while, but thought it would be best. The dress, light peach color with large bellowed sleeves, a full skirt with lovely ivory layers under it. It was a little extravagant to her eyes, but she knew it would impress Islington.
“Martha, the peach-and-ivory dress,” she directed. “I am assured Islington will show up in something that would make the King’s finery pale in comparison.”
As Martha went about straightening her clothes, Adelaine drifted to the window and looked out at the keep. It was still a dark intimidating building in strong contrast with the paler sky. She rested her hand on the pane and laid her forehead on the cold glass. “Be safe…”
Turning away, she went to change into the dress Martha had unearthed from her closet. She had the corset on and her stockings when she noticed that Islington had arrived. She told the maid to settle him in the drawing room, give him refreshments and tell him that she would be down shortly.
Martha had her dress on and tightened the laces before she fixed her hair into a loose curtain around her shoulders and kohl was added around her eyes. She sucked in a deep breath and with Martha in tow, went to the drawing room.
Islington was in dark-blue doublet, stark-white shirt, and black breeches and boots. His wheat-colored hair looked askew as if the wind had thrown it pell mell. His expression was a bit guarded and she made her best to look sorrowful.
“You came,” she said.
“His Lordship asked me to,” Islington nodded to Martha. “Greetings, Miss Porter, I assume?”
“Yes, and good day, My Lord,” Martha curtsied.
“My Lady?” Islington asked reaching out for her arm and she allowed him to lead her to a seat. Martha took her place in the corner. “Your father said you needed to speak to me. I assume it was about the other night.”
“It is,” Adelaine said as she folded her hands over her skirt. God, please forgive me. “The other night…I was terrified. You looked so sincere and I panicked. I regretted running off and if you are willing to marry me then, my answer is yes.”
