“Do you truly think so?”
“Of course. You and Mr. MacGregor will be man and wife, and if he speaks true, he is most serious about marriage. He seems to want all that marriage and family can give a man. Since you will both be working hard toward the same goal, there is good reason to hope for something good. If not a deep, true love, then comfort, security, and compatibility. Do not frown, child. Those things are very valuable, as valuable as love. I was fortunate to get most of them as well as love from your father.”
“Yes, I see how fortunate you were.”
“And you may yet find that you have the same good luck. I too feel that Mr. MacGregor is an honorable man. Now, let us go and have some tea.”
Agnes made no further comment about Ballard and the upcoming marriage until she and Clover were comfortably seated in the sitting room of the master suite and Molly had served them tea. Molly also brought word that Ballard had sent a message—he had found a preacher, and their marriage wasarranged to take place at four the next afternoon. As she sipped the strong, fragrant tea and savored a freshly baked scone smothered in butter, Clover sensed that her mother had more to say. She realized that she did not mind discussing the matter. It was helping her clear up a few of her own doubts and concerns.
“There is one small thing that still troubles me,” Agnes finally said, a hint of reluctance in her voice.
“And what is that, Mama?” Clover wiped her fingers on a fine linen napkin and wondered if it too would have to be sold.
“You and Mr. MacGregor are from two very different worlds.”
“Do you really think that matters?”
“It can, Clover. Differences in taste, in learning, even in manners can prove to be a trial in marriage.”
“Ballard claims that that is the very difference he seeks.”
“Does he?”
“Yes. He told me that his circumstances are improving and he believes they will continue to do so. He spoke of how Kentucky is becoming more settled and civilized every day, that it is no longer the haven of trappers and rough backwoodsmen. Since he intends to continue to prosper, he wants what I can bring to him and to our family. He wants the learning and etiquette that we are taught from the cradle. Ballard sees it all as part of the advancement he is seeking.”
“It is a wise man who recognizes such a thing and seeks it out. Well, there is another worry laid to rest.”
“Did you have a lot, Mama?” Clover asked helping herself to another scone.
“What mother would not when her daughterannounces that she is to marry a man she has known for only a few hours?” Agnes buttered another scone, hesitated, then spread a thin layer of apple preserves on it.
Clover smiled crookedly. “I have a few qualms myself.”
“As you should at such a time. Marriage is forever, or it should be. That thought, even when love burns strongly, can be frightening. To commit oneself to a situation, to another person, for a lifetime is not easy.”
The mere thought of it had Clover taking a bracing sip of tea.Foreverandlifetimewere two words that had been echoing intermittently in her head since she had first proposed to Ballard. As she left her mother’s room and went to her own to dress, she wondered if Ballard was also wrestling with those weighty words.
Ballard grimaced as he hurried out of the small riverside church, his brother and cousin right behind him. The aging Reverend Denning had been inclined to pontificate on the dangers of a hasty marriage, which Ballard had found increasingly irritating. The way Shelton and Lambert had nodded their agreement to a lot of what the reverend said had only further soured Ballard’s mood.
“Ballard,” Shelton began.
“Not now, brother. That reverend droned on so long I am late for my meeting with Mr. Grendall.”
“We ought to talk.”
“Right now I have been talked near to death.” Ballard pointed at a neat, white inn that stood justbeyond the less reputable dock area. “I am going in there to try and convince Mr. Grendall he wants to pay good money for our horses. I will pay our room bill while I am there. Ye can come with me or find something else to do.”
Shelton grimaced. “I think we will go have us an ale at a less proper tavern. Do ye want us to take our belongings over to the Sherwoods?”
“Nay. I will have the innkeeper’s lads do that.”
“Fine. We will meet ye back at the Sherwoods come mealtime,” Shelton called as he and Lambert turned and headed toward the waterfront.
As Ballard entered the inn, he met the plump, graying Grendall preparing to leave. He heartily apologized to the man, explained his tardiness, and soon had the man seated at a table sharing some ale. Across the way, Ballard noticed Thomas Dillingsworth deep in conversation with a man at a small table near the massive fireplace, but when the man paid him no heed, Ballard turned his full attention back to Grendall. They discussed prices as they drank, Ballard praising the quality of the stallion and two mares he had to offer, and Mr. Grendall playing the part of a man of severely limited funds.
Once they had finished their drinks, Ballard escorted Mr. Grendall out to the inn’s stables where he had quartered his horses. He left Grendall standing there and went to get his stallion. As he led the horse out, Ballard saw the look on Mr. Grendall’s round face and knew he would get his full asking price after the appropriate amount of haggling.
Just as he and Mr. Grendall neared an agreement, Ballard saw Thomas approaching. He tensed. Thomas stared at the black stallion for a long moment beforecoming closer. He greeted Mr. Grendall with cool politeness but just nodded at Ballard. The gesture was so short as to be rude, and Ballard felt his insides knot with anger over the insult.
