Page 11 of Holding Onto Love

“Mrs. Wardrip, good afternoon,” he said, removing his hat and tucking it under his arm. His sandy hair was already thinning. He would soon be as bald as his father.

“Good afternoon.” She studied him nervously. “Why are you here? Is something wrong?”

He frowned. “Must something be wrong? I told you I would check on you after you had a few weeks to settle in.”

“I thought you would write. It’s a long way to come.” His concern felt condescending. “I’m sorry, but you know I can’t ask you in.”

“Of course not,” he said, his scowl deepening.

She had nothing to fear from Will. He had always treated her respectfully, even though she was no longer respectable. But she could not bring a man into her house. Already villagers regarded her differently because she was young and without a male guardian or female companion. She should have realized people in a small town would be even more suspicious and narrow minded than those in London. She had to be very careful. Still, she could not be rude to Will.

“Are you thirsty? Hungry? I can bring something out.”

“No. There’s no need.”

She wiped her hands on her apron. “And you’ve come all this way. Thank you. I-I’m doing well. Truly, I am. This house is perfect. And Lydia has been so very welcoming. I’ve met a few people.” She trailed off. He looked disturbed. “What is it?”

“I brought you something. I don’t know that I should have. I hesitated to put it in the post with no explanation.”

He pulled a folded paper from his pocket. She recognized the seal and winced.

“Will—”

“I told him nothing. That’s why he asked me to bring this.” He held it out. “He had no other way to reach you.”

“Because I don’t want to be reached.”

He let his hand fall. “Should I give it back to him? Tell him you refused it?”

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake.” It seemed inordinately cruel to subject Jasper to that humiliation. “No, give it here.”

She took the letter and tucked it into the waistband of her apron.

“Is there something else?” Will’s pained expression suggested there was.

“Iversley wanted to set up a fund for you to draw from. I refused on your behalf. And I’ve been worried that I shouldn’t have.”

“You did right.”

“Vanessa.” His voice was a groan. “It would make things easier for you. You could hire a companion. You really should have one.”

She laughed, more irritated than amused. “I’m not sure I can purchase respectability with my ex-lover’s money.”

“Don’t talk like that. You deserve better.”

“Will, there is no question of deserving. None at all.”

“But to punish yourself—”

“Punish? This?” She gestured to her home. “I have more than I need. This is heaven on earth.”

He had never seen a soldiers’ camp. He had never slept on wet ground after walking an entire day wearing shredded boots that did not fit, stripped from a corpse. He had never marched two days straight with half a bread crust for sustenance. He had not… He had not. Vanessa had. Lydia had. The others, too. They’d borne all that and worse.

“All right,” Will said, holding up a hand. “If you’re content, that’s all that matters. I delivered the letter. Answer him or don’t. But I won’t serve as a go-between.”

“I would not ask it of you.”

He nodded, holding himself very stiffly. “But he did. If he asks again, I will tell him no.”