The Girl in the Gatehouse Page 36

  Mariah’s heart bumped hard against her breast.

  “Ahoy there, Captain Bryant!” Captain Prince hailed, waving from the portico.

  Mariah felt awkward, realizing they had been about to visit the house Captain Bryant was still paying for and without his permission. She explained quickly, “Captain Prince hoped to tour the house after so many years away, but – ”

  “Of course,” Matthew said easily.

  “You do not mind?”

  “Not at all.”

  Captain Prince came trotting down the steps, and the two men shook hands. “Captain Bryant. Never fear. Mr. Martin has told me of your lease. I will, of course, honor it. The place is yours until, what, the end of September?”

  Mariah and Matthew exchanged a poignant, knowing look. They would have to tell the man about his scoundrel of a nephew. But not today.

  After Hart and Lizzy stepped forward to greet the captain and Miss Merryweather, Matthew suggested genially, “Why do we not all tour the house together?”

  Everyone agreed.

  They strolled through the soaring entry hall, little Maggie and George gazing up in wonder at the ornate ceiling and glittering chandelier. At the bottom of the grand staircase, Agnes Merryweather looked up and gasped, stopping where she stood. The others followed her gaze.

  Mariah felt her own mouth gape. There at the first landing, where once had hung two portraits of Prin-Hallsey men, now hung three: Frederick, Hugh, and Percival.

  She glanced at Martin, who gave her a knowing wink.

  Silently, Agnes gripped the railing and slowly mounted the stairs. Standing on the landing, she studied the portrait of Captain Prince as a younger man. “Amy spoke often of how handsome you were,” she said. “She was right.”

  The captain stepped up and stood beside her, while the others stayed below. He said, “I am very sorry Amy did not live to see this day. We might have all shared this occasion, even this house, had you liked.”

  Agnes dragged her gaze from the portrait. “Take no offense, Captain. But Amy has a far finer mansion now.”

  “I believe you are right.” He smiled at her, his attention snagged by her red scarf. “I say, I like that muffler. Is it not very like the ones Miss Amy made?”

  Agnes looked down at Mariah and their eyes locked. “Yes. Very like.”

  The captain offered Agnes his arm once more, and they companionably mounted the remaining stairs. With Lizzy, Mr. Hart, Martin, Dixon, and George, plus Maggie skipping alongside, they toured the boyhood and future home of Percival “Prince” Prin-Hallsey.

  Mariah and Matthew brought up the rear of the party. They walked side by side, arms behind their respective backs, listening to the exclamations of Captain Prince as he extolled favorite rooms and recollected boyhood pranks within them.

  Mariah tilted her head nearer Captain Bryant and whispered, “It was very kind of you, but I cannot accept Lady. I cannot afford to keep a horse.”

  He gave her a sidelong glance. “I can still manage that expense.”

  “But I cannot allow you to do so.”

  “Can you not consider it a wedding present?”

  She stopped where she was and stared up at him, throat tight.

  Glancing ahead at the others, Matthew took her arm and propelled her into the empty salon. “I love you, Mariah,” he whispered. “Surely you know that.”

  A sprig of hope blossomed within her, but she remained silent. She waited as Matthew paused, thinking carefully before speaking. Outside, thunder grumbled. Rain began to peck-peck against the windowpanes.

  He said, “My pursuit of Miss Forsythe did blind me for a time to my growing feelings for you. But my rogue heart decided you were the one it loved, despite my mind’s best efforts to stay the course.”

  Gazing at her, his warm brown eyes lingered on her mouth. His voice took on the gentle urging tone Mariah had used with Lady. “How I have missed you, my dear girl. Will you forgive me for being such a fool?”

  Throat too tight to speak, Mariah merely nodded.

  The shadow left his face. The corners of his eyes crinkled. “ ‘I came here to win one woman, and instead am lost to another,’ ” he said, quoting a line from Simon Wells’s play. “I . . .” He hesitated, lips pursed. “Will you . . .” He broke off with a wince and a huff. “Not here. Come with me.”

  He grasped her hand and pulled her to the door. Peeking out and seeing the touring party stepping into another chamber, Matthew tugged her arm.

  “Matthew! What are you doing?” Mariah protested, but the truth was, she didn’t care. She would follow him anywhere.

  Together they skimmed down the stairs, across the hall, and out the front door. Heedless of the steady rain now falling, they raced down the curved drive. Mariah laughed, running hard to match his longer strides, already guessing his intention.

  He did not stop until they reached the gatehouse, dashed through it, and flung open the front door. There, finally, he stopped. Holding on to one another’s forearms, they stood, gasping, chests heaving, and tried to catch their breaths.

  “I love you, Mariah Aubrey,” Matthew said between pants. He cradled her face in his hands, eyes roving her features with a fiery possessiveness that thrilled her. His breath tickled her upper lip, and then his mouth touched hers with a feathery kiss. “I wanted to ask you here, where we first met. Will you marry me? Stay with me, wherever I go?”

  He angled his head and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her firmly, deeply, passionately. Her heart ached with pleasure. Her knees threatened to give way. He released her only long enough to wrap both arms around her and hold her tightly to his chest. “Say you will.”

  For one uncertain moment, Mariah recalled her failures, and felt unworthy of such love. But then she thought once more of dear Amy Merryweather, fallen, yet redeemed at a great price by her “prince.” Is that not what God had done for her? He had given all He had; had forgiven and loved her. And He was waiting for her to love Him in return.

  Tears once more filled her eyes. Mariah’s lip trembled, but she managed a wavering smile and breathless reply.

  “I will.”

  epilogue

  Captain Matthew Bryant and Miss Mariah Aubrey were married on a crisp late-October morning in the Whitmore village church.

  After the service, they rode back to Windrush Court in an open, ribbon-festooned barouche, while the guests followed on foot, walking back to the estate for the wedding breakfast.

  Reaching the gatehouse first, Matthew hopped down from the carriage and threw wide the gate. Captain Prince, in his first act as master of Windrush Court, had already dispatched the lock. Then Matthew climbed up once more, urged the horse into motion, and he and Mariah passed through the gate. There, so near where they had first met, Captain and Mrs. Bryant shared a lingering kiss while they awaited their guests.

  A few minutes later, the first of them appeared. At the beginning of the procession were residents of the poorhouse, who best knew the way, led by George and Sam. Tears stung Mariah’s eyes as she gazed in wonder at the cheerful parade. For each person from the poorhouse wore a bright red muffler – their sober church-going clothes transformed into cheerful garments by the colorful wraiths floating about their necks, made over the years by Amy Merryweather’s hands, and reminiscent of her spirit.

  Matthew looked at her and their gazes caught and held. Mariah’s vision blurred with happy tears, but she blinked them away, not wanting to miss a single sight, a single face.

  After a clutch of jovial poorhouse residents came two couples arm in arm – Lizzy and Mr. Hart, and Agnes Merryweather with Captain Prince. After them came John and Helen Bryant, followed by Mr. and Mrs. Strong, Mr. Phelps, and the vicar. And finally, Martin, Dixon, Maggie, and Mariah’s brother, Henry. What delight to see so many dear, smiling faces pass through the gate. Matthew’s sister and her husband had been prevented from coming because their child was due any day. Mariah would have loved for her own sister and parents to be there as well, but
she refused to let their absence spoil her joy.

  They feasted at long tables beneath autumn-red maples, laughed, told stories, and shared bittersweet memories of loved ones not present that day.

  After the fine meal, of which even Martin approved, local musicians played, and at one point Martin and Maggie joined in – him on his three-fingered flute and Maggie raising her pure, stirring voice in song.

  Then three people Mariah had not expected to see came through the gate, and her heart raced. Her mother, father, and Julia. Beside Mariah, Matthew gripped her trembling fingers and smiled reassurance.

  Keeping a tight hold of his hand, Mariah walked with her new husband to greet her family after a separation of more than a year.

  Julia rushed forward. “Mariah! I am so sorry we missed the wedding. The carriage lost a wheel, and the men took forever in repairing it.”

  Mariah pressed her hand. “That is all right. How pleased I am to see you now.”

  Julia’s eyes sparkled. “I shall soon be a married woman too. Father has consented. Is that not good news?”

  “Very good news.”

  Julia embraced her tightly and whispered near her ear. “Mother and I read both of your novels. We are so proud of you.”

  When Julia released her, their mother stepped forward, tears brightening her hazel eyes. “How beautiful you look, my dear.” She leaned near and kissed Mariah’s cheek. “I am very happy for you.”

  Fearfully, Mariah glanced next at her father, but he was looking at Matthew.

  Mariah swallowed. “Father, I believe you have met Captain Matthew Bryant, my husband.”

  Sir Thomas nodded. “Yes. He came to see me not long ago, to ask my permission to marry you and to . . . make his opinion plain on several subjects.”

  “Thank you for coming, sir.” Matthew held out his hand, and after a pause, Sir Thomas Aubrey shook it.

  He then turned to his eldest daughter. “Mariah, I regret not only missing your wedding, but this last year of your life as well. I have treated you unfairly and hope you will forgive me.”

  Amy Merryweather’s voice flitted through Mariah’s mind. “Whoever said life was fair?” It gave her the courage to smile and say, “Of course I do.”

  Her father awkwardly patted her shoulder, the most affection Mariah could recall receiving from him, and she could not speak further for the hot tightness in her throat.

  Theirs was not the only wedding that autumn.

  William Hart and Lizzy married not long after Matthew and Mariah did. Sooner, perhaps, than they had planned, as their appointment depended on their being man and wife. The Harts had been chosen by the board of guardians as the new master and matron of Honora House. Mrs. Pitt had stepped down, whether to avoid recrimination over the Prince Prin-Hallsey affair or to accept an offer of marriage from the undersheriff, or both, no one knew for certain.

  Captain P. Prin-Hallsey had settled into his role as long-overdue master of Windrush Court. He petitioned the navy for back pay, and in the meantime – not encumbered by gambling debts as was his wayward nephew – lived modestly but comfortably off the income from the estate.

  When Captain Prince learned how his nephew had defrauded Matthew, he insisted on making recompense. He sold the London townhouse as a first step toward repaying the debt. Further, he drafted a will declaring Matthew Bryant his heir and the future owner of Windrush Court. Hugh, they later learned, was believed to be lodging in a shabby Cheapside inn.

  Judging by the captain’s many visits back to the poorhouse, it seemed clear he was intent on convincing Agnes Merryweather to marry him and share the manor house with him, to spend her remaining years in the comfort and companionship she deserved. So far, Agnes had refused his offer, though she did accept the captain’s invitations to take a meal with him, or share an evening of tales and whist. Mariah had never seen the woman look so happy and hoped the captain would prevail.

  That year’s final wedding, a Christmas wedding, was that of Jeremiah Martin and Susan Dixon. Maggie and Mariah attended the bride, the dearest and most beautiful bride Mariah had ever seen. Martin, too, looked dapper. He wore a new suit and renewed confidence now that he was writing again, thanks to Mr. Crosby’s – and Dixon’s – persuasion. Soon, the Golden Prince would set sail once more.

  After that last wedding, Captain and Mrs. Bryant took their leave of Windrush Court. As they drove away, Mariah looked back and saw little Maggie Martin standing before the gatehouse, waving a fond farewell. Despite the season, she wore a youthful springtime hat that had lain in the attic long enough. Martin and Dixon requested to raise the girl as their own, and both Maggie and the governors heartily agreed. How glad Mariah was to know that there would be a girl in the gatehouse for years to come.

  Matthew and Mariah were bound for a delayed wedding trip to Italy, and who knew what adventures beyond – for she could write anywhere, could she not? This was only the beginning.

  author’s note

  Jane Austen fans will recognize her influence in this book. For example, one of my favorite Austen heroes, Captain Wentworth of Persuasion, inspired the background of my Captain Bryant – along with a dash of Forester’s Horatio Hornblower. More significantly, I was moved by Austen’s Maria Bertram, who “destroyed her own character” and was sent away with a sole companion to “an establishment being formed for them in another country – remote and private.”

  Of course in Mansfield Park, we do not admire vain and adulterous Maria Bertram, and most readers likely feel she earned her just deserts. But what if Maria (pronounced “Mariah” in Jane Austen’s day) were a character we actually cared about? Would we be content to leave her in her lonely exile? As someone who has made her share of mistakes in life, I am thankful for forgiveness and second chances. And I enjoyed giving Mariah Aubrey hers as well.

  Mariah is a secret author, as Jane Austen was during her lifetime. Many authors (female and male alike) published anonymously or under pseudonyms in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Jane Austen published her novels “by a lady” or “by the author of ” one of her previous novels. In some cases, the identity of anonymous authors remains unknown.

  In chapters 8 and 12, I have borrowed two brief excerpts from one of these novels, entitled, The Corinna of England, and a Heroine in the Shade: a Modern Romance, by the Author of The Winter in Bath. It was published anonymously in two volumes in 1809 by London-based B. Crosby and Co. The identity of the author is still being debated. (Source: Chawton House Library.) Except, of course, for Aesop’s Fables, all other excerpts and journal entries are of my own creation.

  Also, in chapter 21, I sprinkled in a few actual reviews of Jane Austen’s novels from the time of their release. It ought to make writers everywhere feel better to know that even Miss Austen received the occasional snide review.

  I enjoyed researching the lives of early women authors like Maria Edgeworth, Charlotte Lennox, Fanny Burney, and of course Jane Austen. There are many sources available should you want to read more. I also enjoyed learning a bit about publishing in the early nineteenth century. In reality, typesetting, printing, and binding books was a lengthy process before computers and modern printing presses. But for the sake of the story, I compressed these timelines.

  On a maritime research note, I should mention two things. First, the war was not actually over, as my characters believed. Napoleon escaped his first exile in early 1815, and the war resumed. After Napoleon’s defeat at Waterloo, he was again exiled, and the war officially ended later that year. Second, Captain Joseph McCulloch did not propose the Coast Blockade Service until 1815, the year after this story concludes. The service came into being the following year. I hope history buffs will forgive the liberties I took to include it in the story.

  The gatehouse pictured on the cover is the very one I had in mind while writing this novel. In reality, it is located at Deene Park, Northamptonshire, once the country residence of Lord Cardigan, the “Homicidal Earl” who led the Charge of the Light Brig
ade. My sincere thanks to designer Jennifer Parker for another beautiful cover.

  As always, I would like to acknowledge the help and encouragement of my family, church family, friends, co-workers, first reader Cari Weber, and my editor Karen Schurrer. Many thanks to Jeff Beech-Garwood, Matthew Camp, Bill Kelley, and author Laurie Alice Eakes for helping with historical (and cricket!) details. Also to Cheri Hanson for help with the Malagasy language. Lastly, warm gratitude goes to my readers, who send the most uplifting e-mails. I appreciate you all.

  discussion questions

  1. Had you known that Jane Austen’s name never appeared in her books during her lifetime? Did it surprise you that novel writing was considered (at least by some) improper and unladylike? In what ways might those attitudes continue today?

  2. Mariah’s situation (sent away after an indiscretion to live in relative isolation) was loosely based on the fate of one of Jane Austen’s characters in Mansfield Park (although Maria Bertram was a married woman who had an affair). Did you think Mariah Aubrey’s father treated her unfairly? How have attitudes toward “virtue and vice” changed since the early 1800s?

  3. Did you learn anything new from the historical quotes at the beginning of each chapter? What quote in particular did you like? Why?

  4. Did you figure out the mystery of Captain Prince early on? What about the “treasure” of the gatehouse? Did you spot any red herrings (false clues) that led you to believe there might be real treasure (say, jewels or gold) in the gatehouse?

  5. Captain Bryant spent many years trying to gain his father’s approval. Can you relate? How so? What makes father/child relationships so important?

  6. Did you find yourself growing fond of any character that you did not care for at the outset? Which character was your favorite? Why?

  7. What was your reaction to Amy Merryweather’s red yarn as a symbol of our life to come? (As a reminder, she said, “Don’t hold on to the knots and forget the life ahead.”) Have you had to get past knots in your own life?