Mishap Marriage. Helen Dickson
anything to go by.
Raising her head, Shona flashed a brilliant smile. ‘Oh, yes, Morag, he is very handsome. Very handsome indeed.’
‘Then it’s a good thing you’re looking your best.’
Morag was fastening the tiny buttons down the back of her dress and they failed to note Carmelita’s entry into the chamber.
‘Are you finished, Shona?’ Carmelita enquired sharply, concealing her envy as she glanced at her sister-in-law in her stunning gown.
Morag quickly fastened the last button, then stepped away and quietly disappeared from the room.
Carmelita was petite and sultry, with long black hair and deep brown eyes. Ever since Shona had returned from England to find Carmelita married to her brother, they had never got along. When they had first set eyes on each other, Carmelita’s back had stiffened, her shoulders arched and her hair had seemed to bristle. Like a cat, Shona had thought. A suspicious, angry, threatened cat.
‘You made quite a spectacle of yourself this afternoon,’ Carmelita reproached, giving her an accusing stare. ‘Really, Shona, your want of conduct is embarrassing your brother dreadfully. He was most displeased.’
Shona stiffened at the rebuke, but she said nothing, knowing any argument would only make Carmelita more determined to be unpleasant. Carmelita resented the responsibility Shona represented and Shona resented her tyranny, but open hostility between them was rare. Much easier to endure, ignore and count the days until she could return to England.
‘If you insist on behaving so disgracefully,’ Carmelita continued, ‘I’m afraid Antony will have to ask you to refrain from visiting the town. Were you not his sister, you would never be welcomed in polite circles. It’s high time you put your mind to settling down instead of gallivanting about the island at every opportunity.’
The months of schooling her features into a polite mask around her sister-in-law were forgotten—the anger Shona was feeling showed clearly on her face. When she didn’t speak, Carmelita took a step towards her, her sultry eyes narrowing. ‘We cannot both run this house,’ she said, her voice holding a quiet, dangerous threat and resentment. ‘You must see that. I intend to be mistress in every sense and I will not let you stand in my way.’
While Carmelita was obviously willing to fight, Shona did not intend to make it easy for her. ‘You may rest assured, Carmelita, that I have no intention of marrying just to please you. Melrose Hill is still my home.’
‘Perhaps it is, but I am mistress here now. If you dispute that, then you know what you can do.’ She turned to the door. ‘The house is large, but not large enough for both of us. So don’t push me, you wretched girl, or you’ll find yourself without a home in short order. Much good your stubborn pride will do you then!’ In a swirl of light blue chenille, she marched across the room. ‘Here is Antony now.’ She gave her husband an exasperated look. ‘You speak to your sister, Antony. She won’t listen to me. The sooner she is wed with a husband and children to occupy her time, the better we shall all be.’
On that note Carmelita went out, determined to have her way in this. She meant what she had said. There was no room for two mistresses at Melrose Hill and, while ever the servants deferred to Shona, Melrose Hill would never truly be hers.
When Carmelita had left, Shona finally allowed her defences to crumble. Her shoulders slumped.
It was at times like this that she missed her father. The suddenness of his death had stunned her—even now she found it difficult to accept. He had seemed so full of life for a man of sixty-five. Yet however much she wished otherwise, he was dead and buried, for ever gone from her sight and company. She had sailed from England to Santamaria only to find on arrival that Melrose Hill was no long her home, her one sure haven. Having loved the time she had spent in England and missing the friends she had made, she was desperate to return and would do almost anything to bring that about. But she was honest enough to admit that her life on Santamaria could not be described as unpleasant.
Alone with her brother, she looked at him and decided to ask him directly. She looked into his eyes and said, ‘Are you as desperate as Carmelita would have me believe for me to marry, Antony?’
He hesitated. Shona saw regret in his face for a moment. Then his expression hardened and he said firmly, ‘Yes, yes, I am.’
His words nipped Shona’s pride and she stared at him, feeling tears prick the backs of her eyes. He held her look. She saw that he meant what he said and she was deeply disappointed.
Sensitive to his wife’s condition and determined not to have her upset in any way at this time, heedless of Shona’s distress, Antony said, ‘It must be settled soon. You know what Carmelita is like. There will never be peace between the two of you, so I am of the opinion that it would be best if you were to leave. Ever since you came home you’ve been living a sense of reproach to Carmelita. Listen, Shona—’
‘No, you listen, Antony. You wouldn’t be talking about reproach if you hadn’t wed Carmelita. She called me a liability earlier. So I deduce that means she wants rid of me.’
‘Rid?’
‘Yes, rid of me, disable me, pack me off somewhere, anywhere, as long as it’s far away from Santamaria.’
Antony’s face became flushed with anger. ‘Stop this, Shona. There is very little I can do about your disagreements, is there?’
‘Except take her side.’
‘I don’t want to take her side. I don’t need to. I have a high regard for both of you. But Carmelita does have a point. Damn it all, Shona! Are you set to be a spinster who rejects every man that comes courting? You have the looks and the wealth to choose among the finest families in Europe and the Caribbean, but you dally like some dreamy-eyed girl waiting for her knight on a white charger who will never arrive.’
‘I am not a silly girl, Antony, and nor am I fanciful,’ she retorted sharply.
‘Be that as it may, the subject can no longer be put off indefinitely. John Filligrew is an unattached, wealthy young man who is smitten by you. He won’t wait for ever.’
Shona gave him a look of disdain. ‘Me and John Filligrew? He is personable, I grant you, and having known him all my life I am very fond of him and we are good friends, but I really would rather die a spinster than attach myself to him for the rest of my life. Let me go back to England, Antony. I would like that and I would be far enough away from Carmelita not to trouble her.’
‘Absolutely not! Father stipulated that you were not to return to England until you have a husband to take care of you. I intend to abide by that. I know what you are like, don’t forget. Away from my protection and without a husband to guide you, I shudder to think what you might get up to.’
‘Thank you for the vote of confidence,’ Shona said drily. ‘But I will not give up on this. I will go back—even if I have to wait until I am of an age when you no longer have any control over me. You could write to Aunt Augusta or Thomas and ask them to keep an eye on me,’ she suggested bravely. Thomas was their cousin, at twenty-nine he was six years younger than Antony and a minister of the church. As a boy and then a youth, he had visited them on Santamaria on two occasions with his parents, Aunt Augusta and Uncle James. Shona adored him and missed him terribly. She had so enjoyed seeing him when she had been in England.
‘As far as I am aware Thomas is having time off from his work, and, since coming out of mourning, Aunt Augusta is too involved with her social life to take charge of an unattached female. He gave her a hard look. ‘Before you go down to meet our guests, I must ask you not to anger Carmelita further.’
That look made Shona shrink. ‘I’ll try not to.’
Antony nodded as if there was no doubt about it.
Having had her fill of reprimands for one day, Shona brushed by him and proceeded along the long corridor to the stairs. She needed to reflect on her options before she took any further steps to resolve her future. One