Page 34 of A Stormy Season

She said the words with such a lack of concern, almost with a smile on her face, that he did not know what to say. She was refusing him. He had half expected it, but somehow it still came as a surprise. He didn’t know how to reply.

“But, your reputation . . .”

“Mr. Watley, I appreciate your kind concern for my reputation, but I will only marry a man who loves me passionately and with whom I am in love. And since we both know you are marrying me only to save my reputation, then my answer is no.”

Luke tried to think what to say. Should he be relieved? He knew he should be. But somehow he wasn’t. He wasn’t relieved at all.

“Miss Gilchrist, if we are engaged, Society will not ostracize or condemn you. You may not understand what that means, but I have a bit more experience with such things.”

“Were you ostracized and condemned?”

“No, but my wife was, and I saw what it would have done to her, had she cared for her own reputation. She was not received by most families of good reputation. Toward the end of her life she was associating only with individuals of ill repute. I do not think you would care for that kind of life, Miss Gilchrist.”

Perhaps he had said too much on the subject.

“I am so sorry for all that you have experienced. Your great kindness to me in this matter is exceptional, and I am grateful to you. But I have my family, my brother and sister-in-law, as well as my mother and a few other relatives, and they will not cast me off. I will not be associating with individuals of ill repute.” She looked at him with equal parts compassion and determination. “As I said, I cannot marry anyone who is not madly in love with me, and I do not believe you are madly in love with me.”

“I—” He started to speak but was unsure how to reply.

“Are you?”

“No. But that is . . . not the issue.”

“It very much is the issue for me, Mr. Watley. And since you surely are not eager to jump into another marriage, and especially where there is no real attachment on either side, I—”

“But Miss Gilchrist, you must realize what a cad I will seem to—that is, as a gentleman, I cannot allow your reputation to be sullied and your position in society to be compromised because of . . .” Because of his first wife, Anne. Because of the mess she got him into, consorting with evil revolutionaries like that Lenoir.

Luke turned away and ran his hand over his face. He tried to pray silently for guidance, but his thoughts were so scattered he could only pray, “God, help me,” under his breath.

He should be grateful Jane did not wish to marry him, that she was refusing his proposal. But somehow it reminded him of Anne’s many, almost daily rejections.

She hadn’t wanted him either.

God, help me stop this manner of thinking.It would not lead anywhere good, he knew from experience.

He’d told himself that Jane was like Anne, but he did not think that was true. Jane would never run around with the likes of Lenoir. It wasn’t in her nature. Though she was independent and defiant, she was independent and defiant in good ways, helping her friend whose business, and therefore her livelihood, was in trouble. She was defiant when it came to pandering to Society’s hypocrisy. She would not marry for money and power and position. She respected herself too much for that. And that was admirable.

In many ways, she was nothing like Anne.

“I do have an idea,” she said, “if you’d like to hear it, that might save my reputation, or at least prevent it from suffering as much as you fear it might.”

He turned around to face her, taking a deep breath. “I would very much like to hear it.”

“I was thinking, if you agree to it, we could announce that we are engaged. And then, in a few months, we could announce we are no longer engaged to be married, that we have broken our engagement amicably. By then I think most people will have forgotten that there was ever anything untoward or amiss.”

“Do you mean, pretend to be engaged?”

“Yes. We will pretend to be engaged, let everyone think we are engaged to be married, then break off the engagement when the gossip about the kidnapping has been forgotten.”

Luke took another deep breath and let it out slowly. “It might work.”

“I believe it will.”

He began to feel more hopeful than he had in a long time. “Yes, perhaps you are right. Everyone will think we are engaged after our ordeal, and when they see that we are the same people as before, that you are the same respectable young lady as you ever were, they will forget about the kidnapping. And when you wish it, we shall say we broke our engagement, and then you may marry any young man you wish.”

“And you may marry anyone you wish.” Jane smiled.

“Very well. I accept your proposal.” Luke held out his hand to her as he would to a gentleman with whom he was making an agreement.