The Rescue (22 page)

The Manse

“Something is troubling you,” Pastor observed to Judith as she sat at her dressing table, seemingly in no hurry to finish with her hair and come to bed.

Judith turned on the bench to look at her husband, who was in the process of fluffing the pillow at his head.

“Yes, there is.”

“Can you tell me?”

“I’m regretting my advice to Anne about following Weston’s lead.”

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

Judith briefly told her husband of her conversation with Anne regarding intimacy.

“Maybe they have spoken of it,” Pastor said simply. “They did spend several days in conversation, Judith. Weston told me some of the topics they covered and how many things they agreed on. The private side of marriage could have easily been one subject.”

Judith did not know why, but she doubted this had been the case. Naturally Anne was very innocent, and Weston gave every indication of taking such matters seriously, but by nature men were more interested in such things. Did Anne really know what to expect?

It was a question for which Judith would not receive an answer. She knew she needed to let the matter drop, something she was not willing to do. Her husband long asleep, Judith lay and worried on the matter for hours.

Brown Manor

How the day had moved so swiftly Anne could only guess. Lunch was past, the tour of the gardens was over, dinner was eaten and enjoyed, and husband and wife now sat in one of the small salons, Anne with some correspondence and Weston with the newspaper.

Had an observer not known better, he would have guessed them to be an old married couple, but Anne knew differently. As the shadows of the day lengthened, that night’s expectations had come to rest stronger and stronger on her mind. If she let her mind wander even a little, she felt fear creeping in like a thief.

At the moment, she had all she could do to concentrate on the letter in her hand.

“I’m headed up now, Anne.”

Anne looked up swiftly to see that her husband had come to his feet.

“Join me when you’re ready.”

Anne nodded, her face presenting a calm visage, but when she rose to climb the stairs just minutes after Weston, her legs were trembling so violently she wondered if they would buckle. By the time she reached her room, she was nearly sick with nerves but made herself undress and climb into her best nightgown. It had been new several years ago but was now past its prime.

Her robe was in even worse shape, but she refused to go through that door without it. Anne tied the sash at her waist and made herself move for the adjoining door, not even remembering to take down her hair. The feel of the cool door handle made her feel chilled all over, and fear made her light-headed.

I can’t do this,
she said to herself, even as she opened the door, stepped inside, and closed it. Her own heart pounded so that she could hardly push the words out, but she made herself speak.

“Mr Weston?”

“Yes?”

He was still dressed and standing on the other side of the bed, but now he moved toward her. Anne stood, her breath coming hard for a moment, trying to force more words out.

“Yes, Anne?” he repeated, standing in front of her.

“I’m not sure I can do this.”

Even in the pale lantern light he could see that she shook violently.

“It’s all right, Anne.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be.”

His words didn’t help. She shook until her teeth chattered.

Hearing that and overcome by compassion, Weston put his arms around her, his heart wrenching when he felt how truly frightened she was.

“It’s all right, Anne,” he continued to say softly. “Don’t worry about anything.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“We’ll just wait,” he said, moving to look into her face. “We don’t need to do this now. We’ll pick another time.”

“When?”

“We’ll decide together, when it’s not so frightening.”

Anne looked up at him.

“You’re going to be sorry you married me, aren’t you?”

To her surprise he laughed.

“No, I’m not. I’m very thankful for the wife God has given me.”

On impulse he pressed a kiss to her brow.

“Go on to bed, sleep well, and I’ll see you at breakfast.”

The trembling had eased, but Anne still felt so cold inside. She looked up at him and saw only warmth and caring in his gaze.

“Goodnight,” she said in return as she reached for the handle.

Weston stood very still after she’d left, relief radiating to every nerve in his body. Thinking that it was the right thing to do and that Anne would expect as much so she would know of his sincerity in this marriage, he had felt intimacy was required of him. To know that Anne needed to wait was nothing short of a rescue.

Help us, Father. Help us to know when. We’re both a little lost in all of this, but we know that You have a plan. Thank You for my wife. Thank You for her sweetness. Help us to have a life together, one that glorifies You.

Weston went to bed and prayed himself to sleep. He thought about checking on Anne—she had been so upset—but he didn’t want to startle her or wake her if she was already asleep.

He need not have worried. Anne was awake for about the same amount of time, doing just as her husband was doing, praying for their marriage.

Anne had not found her way to every room in the manor the day before. In fact, she hadn’t tried. Awakening early on her first morning as mistress of Brown Manor, Anne dressed, read her Bible, and decided to walk around the quiet house. She hoped that the wonder on her face would wear off before anyone could notice. Her responses to some of her husband’s possessions were rather gauche, but in truth she was in awe of her new home and surroundings. She had been quite sincere when she’d told Mr Weston that Brown Manor might very well be the loveliest home in the area.

“Oh, my,” Anne stood quietly and stared into the contents of the china cabinets in the large dining room. She couldn’t ever remember seeing china so lovely and perfect. The set she now looked at was cobalt blue and gold, so delicate and fine that Anne desperately wanted a closer look.

She carefully opened the glass-fronted door, her face breaking into smiles of delight to be so close and see that the plates, platter, cups, and saucers were all as lovely as they first appeared.

The cup directly in front of her was turned a bit, not giving her a full view of the handle. Anne was reaching to turn it when Weston entered and spoke.

“There you are!”

Anne was so startled that her hand crashed into the cup, making it clatter loudly on the saucer.

“Oh, no!” she exclaimed, swiftly drawing back and turning her head, afraid to look. “Please tell me it didn’t break. I don’t know how I would ever replace it.”

“You wouldn’t,” he said as he approached and lifted the unbroken cup into his hand. “It’s just a teacup, Anne.”

“Mr Weston!” Anne’s voice revealed her shock as she turned to face him. “This is the most beautiful china cup I’ve ever seen.”

Weston’s mouth quirked into a smile.

“In that case you’ll be happy to know that there are at least 30 more in the cupboard.”

Anne glanced to where he pointed and saw that there were indeed many more, but she was still relieved not to have broken the first one. Taking it from Weston’s hand, Anne carefully placed it back on the saucer and shut the door.

“More cups or not, I think I’ll just keep well away from them.”

“Don’t do that,” Weston told her. “They’re here to enjoy.”

“No one can do that very well if I break them.”

“And that wouldn’t have been an issue if I hadn’t startled you. Surely you’ve handled china before.”

“I have, yes.”

Weston suddenly looked at her.

“Do you have your mother’s china at Levens Crossing, and do you wish to have it brought here to Brown Manor?”

“It had to be sold.”

There was no mistaking the look on his face.

“I beg you, please do not be angry,” Anne boldly ordered her husband for the first time.

Weston blinked in surprise at her firm tone, and Anne briefly put a hand on his arm.

“I could see in your eyes that my answer frustrated you. I can’t live my first weeks or possibly months here having you grow angry every time you’re reminded of how difficult my circumstances were. It would be very tiring as I would be forced to start monitoring everything I said.”

“You are quite right. I can’t promise that it won’t happen again, but I will make an effort.”

“Thank you.”

Their eyes met for several moments before Anne felt shy and looked away. Seeing that he needed to stop standing and staring at her, Weston spoke instead.

“Ready for breakfast?”

“Yes, please.”

“How did you sleep?” he asked as they exited the room together.

“Very well.”

“The bed will be all right?”

Anne couldn’t stop the smile that came to her mouth, but she only quietly said, “Yes.”

“What did I miss? You’re very pleased about something.”

“Telling you about my bed feels a bit odd in this new situation, but it was such a surprise.”

“Why was that?”

They had reached the small dining room and now took seats. Food began to appear, and Anne thought the matter had been dropped, but as soon as the prayer was said and she had filled her plate, she glanced up to find Weston’s eyes on her, his brows raised.

“I’m dying to know about this bed,” he told her, a smile lurking in his eyes.

Anne laughed.

“It’s nothing, really. I was just so warm and comfortable. I didn’t expect that.”

“I take it you don’t wish for your bed from home?”

Anne only smiled and took a sip of her coffee. Weston realized then and there how much he could enjoy Anne’s discovery of everything at Brown Manor. It was sure to be a reminder of where she’d been, but more than that, he could enjoy her delight and share in it with her.

Anne was cutting a piece of bacon when Weston was ready to speak again.

“I’ve a trip planned for us.”

Mrs Weston looked up.

“We’re going to London in a few weeks.”

“Oh, how nice,” Anne said. But she was already mentally working on her wardrobe. Her clothing wasn’t very suitable.

“It should be cooler by then, and my mother would like us to visit.”

“I’m looking forward to meeting her.”

“She’s looking forward to meeting you. She remembers seeing you when she was here.”

And she didn’t object to your marrying a small, country mouse?
Where the thought had come from Anne could not say, but she did her best to push it aside. Such ideas would only make her seem defensive.
But aren’t you a little defensive, Anne?
she now asked herself.
Don’t you feel a little like a charity case?

Anne didn’t like the direction of these thoughts either. It might be true that she had been needy, but no one had forced Mr Weston to ask for her hand, and she had not expected anything of him, let alone an offer of marriage.

It’s time for you to figure out how you can contribute to this marriage, Anne. You can’t do that if all you’re going to do is question how it came to be.