If I was not completely enamored under her brother’s tender gaze, I would swear to never let Augusta leave my side again. Her matchmaking was causing havoc with my heart.
Chapter 25
Atlas
Ihad evaded my mother before she had gone to town, but now that everyone had disappeared to bed, there was no avoiding her.
I pushed away from my desk and relaxed back into my chair. “Miss Lewis and I werenotholding hands at the party, Mother.”
This morning was another matter entirely. But if I admitted to even those few short moments at our front door, Mother would probably raise up an army to dispel Miss Lewis.
She folded her arms across her ample bosom. “I know what I saw.”
I shrugged, trying to keep my sudden amusement from showing. When Miss Lewis had reached for my wrist, I had felt a surge of rightness. I wanted to be the one she turned to—even if it meant nearly drowning in the pond. “Mother, for the tenth time, you saw wrong.”
“As a baron,” she said, huffing, “you have a reputation to uphold. You cannot have a love tryst with your sister’s companion.”
I straightened, all amusement gone. “Love tryst?”
“You must know, no one would think you would consider marrying her. She is practically a servant, and we know nothing about her.”
I ran my hand down my jaw. “Those are rash accusations over two people holding hands.”
She shot me a withering glare. “So, you were holding hands.”
I groaned. “No, we were not. Please. I can tell you are overtired. You have been pushing yourself too hard, trying to take care of everyone as you always do. There is nothing to worry about.”
Mother set her hands on the back of the chair pushed into the opposite side of the desk from me. “Can you honestly tell me you do not care for her?”
This question was harder to refute. I fumbled for something to say. “Miss Lewis . . .” I started again. “She has been a godsend. Augusta is finally applying herself with her studies and is happier than I’ve seen her in years.”
“This isn’t about Augusta,” Mother reminded.
I sighed. “I admit, Miss Lewis has made me happy as well. She has a good heart and is quite a beautiful woman. I am attracted to her—drawn to her even. I am not, however, ready to propose marriage. I still have much I must sort through on my own.”
Mother’s face crumpled. She pulled out the chair and sunk into it. “This is absolutely terrible.”
I pulled out my handkerchief and handed it to her.
“What about Miss Klein? Will you not think of her now?”
I shook my head. “That notion sailed long before Miss Lewis came to work for us, and it will never again find port.”
She moaned. “First Augusta and now this. Your father should never have left me alone.”
“He died,” I said, reaching for her hand. “He did not leave on purpose.”
“Oh, Atlas. You have been true to your namesake and carried this family on your shoulders. But I fear you will fall in love with Miss Lewis and all you have worked for will disappear.”
If she was this upset about the mere idea of me and Miss Lewis, I could only imagine that the news of giving away half my inheritance to invest in cottage hospitals would send her to her bed. For the first time, I felt a wave of guilt for my secrecy. To spare her, I was likely creating an even greater problem than a fear of someone being after her son.
Although, that was valid too.
I rested my arms on my desk, trying to think of the best way to console her. “Let me assure you, Mother. Nothing has happened between us that you need be concerned about. I am leaving town tomorrow, and I would hate to think you are here upset. Please put this from your mind, and we’ll discuss it when I return.”
Now I had two conversations to look forward to. Or dread . . . I was not certain which. With Mary Anne, we always danced around conversations about the future, and it led to too many misunderstandings between us. In the end, I had thought we were getting married, and she had not been interested in committing. She wanted both my complete attention and her freedom.
If I was to let my heart grow attached to someone again—which I feared had already happened—I wanted to make my motives clear and to hear hers in return. I would do it right this time, or not at all.
