Page 109 of Holding Onto Love

“That’s kind of you, Sherwood, but—”

“You shouldn’t live alone. A pretty lass like you. And a widow…”

She wasn’t sure what being a widow had to do with it, but she didn’t like his insinuating tone.

“I am not interested in your opinion,” she said, freezing him. “Now let me pass.”

His face slackened. “Well, wait just a moment.”

“Sherwood—”

“No, wait. I have a letter for you. It’s why I came out all this way.” He searched the pockets inside his jacket. Then he pulled out a thick bundle wrapped in paper and tied with a string. “From that London fellow, I bet.”

There was nothing to indicate the sender but the masculine handwriting. She took the bundle from him.

“Thank you. Good day.”

She walked on. Sherwood was annoying but harmless. And he had a point; she didn’t want to be alone. But just as Jasper said he would not marry anyone but her, she would never care for anyone the way she loved him.

But if she loved Jasper, how could she wed him? She had no idea how to carry out the duties of a countess. Moreover, Jasper needed a wide social circle to be the man that he was. No doubt he would still be able to command attention during political debates. He would still be welcome at White’s. But he would find himself invited to fewer balls, teas, and musicales. And then what?

The Gowes’ place came into view. It was not Charlotte spreading laundry out to dry, but rather Nan. Vanessa waved and called a hello, which brought Charlotte around from the back of the house. Her apron was folded up into a pocket. She must have been tossing feed to the chickens. Vanessa headed over to relate that her journey had been uneventful and the shops pleasant. But a closer look at Charlotte—the way she walked with a sway and the tight fit of her dress—revealed that she must be increasing again. It brought a sharp lump to Vanessa’s throat. She wanted children. Jasper’s children.

“Good afternoon, Charlotte!” She walked up to the fence and waved again. “Nan. I stopped at the Comptons. They have more orders for boots.”

“Isn’t it wonderful!” Charlotte said.

Vanessa lowered her voice. “And I think you have some wonderful news as well.”

Charlotte nodded, blushing. “Can you already tell? Dan says he wants another boy, since I got my girl. But I said Sweet Kate needs a sister. We’ve been bickering and now I’m getting big so fast I think God will show us what’s what and send twins.”

“I’m so pleased for you. Will you come over for tea? You and Nan? I brought some new in Binnings.”

“I can’t. I’d love to but I can’t.” Charlotte wiped her brow. “There’s too much to do. We have some vegetables to pull and put up. You should pull your turnips.”

Vanessa nodded. She knew which were the turnips because she had stolen bunches of them, and other things, raiding gardens in Portugal. Lydia had shown her how. It hurt, still, to think she may have caused innocent families to go hungry. She remembered Colonel Harrington scolding the wives for pillaging their allies, “creating a hostile environment.” Crispin had been there, standing at attention, wearing a furious expression more daunting than the Colonel’s scold. But she didn’t think he was angry with the wives. Around the same time, Henry had tended to one of his fellows, a man he disliked intensely, who had been flogged so severely he couldn’t walk for three days. It was generally known that Lieutenant Taverston had done the flogging. Henry would not name the offense and when Vanessa asked Lydia if she knew, Lydia just scowled and said, “What do you think?”

Not stealing vegetables.

Some things, Vanessa had tried to forget.

Charlotte was saying something about slaughtering a pig.

“Nan is going to help with the boys and Sweet Kate for a while.” Charlotte scratched her flank. “Dan asked her to come.”

“Are you well?”

“Only tired. But Vanessa, I don’t know that I can keep visiting for tea. Not every Monday. When the harvests start coming in, there is so much to do. And then the babe will come…”

“It’s a busy time. I understand.” Vanessa felt uncomfortable. Had she imposed too much on Charlotte’s friendship?

“How was Binnings? Did you see the Taverstons?”

“It was very nice. Yes, yes, I did,” Vanessa answered truthfully but untruthfully. “I didn’t buy much though. Just the tea.” She set down her valise, stretched her aching fingers, then picked it back up. “I should get home. I’ll tell you all about it later.”

Charlotte nodded. “I’ll get back to my hens.”

Vanessa waved again to Nan, then walked the last steps to her home, counting the friends she would have to abandon if she were to leave Cartmel. They were good, decent people who had made her so welcome.