Page 44 of The Right to Remain Single

“What a dreadful pity,” Mrs. Willis said. “Surely you don’t wish to be left a spinster!”

Until two days ago, she’d longed for exactly that. “Definitely, if the alternative is Mr. Tilson.” That was the closest she could get to suggesting that she might be willing to consider someone else.

Pauline giggled, but her mother couldn’t leave it at that. “What a kind gentleman Mr. Blakely is.”

Drat! She wanted James to take the hint, not Mrs. Willis. For the first time, a hint about a gentleman she actually liked very much—and she had to fend it off right in front of him.

She muffled a huff of fury and stood. “Shall we leave the gentlemen to their port?”

Even if James did care for her—and that was a big if—she had already destroyed any chance of an offer from him. He was good and kind, and truly noble, and he had already promised not to ask her to marry him.

Which was her own stupid fault, but how could she have known that one day she would meet the right man and fall in love?

It couldn’t be too late. Surely there was something she could do.

* * *

After tea, everyone assembled in the Great Hall except the monk, who took a dose of laudanum and went to bed. A trestle table was set up to hold the cauldrons of lamb’s wool and dishes of Christmas pie. The villagers filed in for the holiday treat. Thomasina doled out cups of the hot, aromatic beverage, while Mrs. Day and Martha served the pie. Soon everyone was very merry indeed.

Except James, who was too busy being alert, and Thomasina, whose tired and worried expression he longed to kiss into a smile.

And Sam Furbelow, who prowled around the room, his eyes shifting from side to side, except when they settled on Thomasina with an expression so intent that it was all James could do to stop himself from punching the dastard in the face. Meanwhile, he had to keep an eye on Mr. Warren, who sat by the fire and accepted the good wishes of his tenants and neighbors.

Under these circumstances, what could Furbelow do to harm the old man? Nothing, as far as James could see.

Max appeared beside him, pointing at Thomasina’s elegant figure. He mimed pulling her into his arms and kissing her.

James muttered, “When the time is right.”

“Now is the time,” growled Max. “With all these people here to see, make her yours.”

James sighed. He couldn’t expect Max to understand proper behavior. “Later tonight, I shall.”

“That will be too late!” With a bloodcurdling wail that turned every head in the room, Max vanished.

Chapter Nine

Thomasina drank only one cup of lamb’s wool; she needed to think.

The obvious solution came to her suddenly, but it was so absurd that she…couldn’t stop thinking about it.

No. Impossible. A lady…simply didn’t. It was bad enough to ask a gentleman to bed her—and look where that had got her!

And yet…it was the only way.

No. She didn’t have the courage, and that was that. So much for being a wanton Warren woman. She was destined for spinsterhood, and she’d been perfectly happy with that fate only a few days ago. She would be perfectly happy once again.

She dashed away bitter tears at her cowardice. She had to do something to redeem herself. Very well, she would find out where her horrid cousin had hidden the rope. She would prove to Papa that he was wrong about James. She couldn’t marry him, but she could certainly defend him.

Mentally, she circled the house; perhaps Sam had gone farther than James and Joey had sought. Perhaps he’d run to the rear, secreted the rope in one of the cold frames in the kitchen garden, then run back in time to make an uproar near the front door.

No, it simply wasn’t possible. Even if Sam had sprinted—which seemed unlikely—the snow would have slowed him down. He couldn’t have gone more than a little way around the side of the house and returned in time…

All at once, she knew! But she had to be sure.

For the moment, the queue for lamb’s wool was empty. Everyone milled about, enjoying the Christmas pudding. No one would miss her if she left for a minute or two.

She beckoned to Martha to take her place if necessary. “I’ll be back directly.” In the kitchen, she donned the old pair of boots and coat, lit a lantern, and headed out into the snow.