Free Charlotte Louise Dolan by The Substitute Bridegroom Page A

was changed into her royal-blue riding habit, the horses were already saddled and Darius was waiting with them near the stables. After a short gallop to shake the fidgets out of their mounts, they slowed to a walk, which was more conducive to conversation.
    “I noticed the painting over the mantel in the study. Is that your family?”
    For the first time in three years, Elizabeth was able to think about her parents and younger sisters without feeling a deep sadness, and she knew it was because of the man beside her.
    “Yes, that was my family. Now there are just Nicholas and me.”
    “Will you tell me about them?”
    “My parents died in a carriage accident four years ago. They were very much in love, and well-meaning friends tried to tell me that it was better that they died together, but I am afraid I was never able to see how it is a blessing when two people are cut down in the prime of life.”
    “They are undoubtedly the same well-meaning folks who think that war is something grand and glorious,” Darius said with a scowl, “who make a fuss over the heroes when they come back decorated with medals, and who never seem to spare a moment to think about the soldiers who are buried where they fall—the brave young lads who never have a chance to march in a parade and listen to the cheering.”
    They rode in silence for a few moments, then he spoke again, the anger in his voice replaced by weariness. “Please forgive me for introducing such a topic at this time. You were telling me about your family.”
    “I am afraid it is a story better suited to an overcast day than to this beautiful sunshine.” She paused, then continued. “My sisters were two and four years of age at the time our parents died, and I did not want to disrupt their lives, which is what would have happened if we had gone to stay with Aunt Theo. So, instead, Aunt Phyllis offered to come and live with us. She was not actually our aunt, but some sort of cousin, and she left her quiet home in Devon to come and lend us countenance. She was a spinster and in her eighties, and it must have been difficult for her to live in a household with young children, although she never complained. Unfortunately, the only reward she received for her goodness ...” Here Elizabeth’s voice broke, and it took her a few moments before she was able to go on.
    “There was diphtheria in the village, and in the space of four days, both Aunt Phyllis and my two sisters were gone. Nicholas and I were just turned seventeen, and neither of us wanted to stay at Oakhaven, where there were too many memories, so we went to Aunt Theo. We have only been back for short visits since then, but now I am quite content to be living here again. Even though one can never forget, I find that time does much to soothe the pain.”
    “And have your servants been with the family long?”
    “Oh, yes, since before I was born. Except for the housemaids, of course. With our permission, Mrs. Merrywell, the housekeeper, trains girls from the village, and when she is satisfied with them, they are in great demand and have no trouble finding very good jobs.”
    They came to the top of a slight hill and reined in their horses to admire the view.
    “And now I will reveal to you the deep, dark secret of our family.” She tried to keep a straight face, but knew she was not managing very well. “My mother’s grandfather was in trade. Nobody mentions it now, of course, but he owned several merchant ships and was the one who built Oakhaven. He married above his station and had but one daughter, who also married well and whose only child was my mother. When he died, everything came to her, although by that time the ships were long gone and everything was quite respectably invested in the funds.
    “Maggie told me about him when I was little, and I thought sailing ships sounded much more exciting than government consols, and I envisioned my great-grandfather as a swashbuckling pirate. That illusion was