AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Not Ma, no. Hannah Kelham.”
“Ted’s mother? But you chose to give her up. That is not at all the same thing, Pa!”
“I chose nothing!” Pa said sharply. “Hannah was the great love of my life, and I wanted to marry her more than I’d ever wanted anything. I thought weweremarried, in fact, until your grandfather turned up, proved it was all illegal and carted me off home. I was under age, you see. Well, no one knows much of the law at twenty, do they?”
“You were married! Good God! I never knew that. But if you were so much in love with her, how could you give her up and marry Ma?”
“No choice. No realistic choice, anyway. Money is a powerful driver, Will, and the man who has it controls the life of the man who doesn’t. I could have married Hannah and struggled to put bread on the table for the rest of our lives, or I could marry Edith and everyone would live well, including Hannah and the bairn. But I fought the inevitable. For the best part of a year, I fought it, but when Ted was born… I had to make a decision. Everyone wanted me to marry Edith, and even Hannah was pushing me that way, but I didn’t want to. I truly didn’t want to.
“But seeing Ted and wanting the best for him… He ismy son, Will. One day you will have sons of your own, and you will understand. I wanted him to have the very best life I could give him, and that meant marrying Edith and making proper provision for Hannah and Ted. So I accepted what I had to do, but I couldn’t just walk away from Hannah. I went there with my father and the attorney to explain to Hannah how she would be protected, and how Ted would be cared for, no matter what happened to either of us. After that, my mind was easier and I married Edith and… well, you know the rest of the story. But it felt… unfinished, somehow. I needed to settle it in my own mind and I needed to see Hannah that one last time, formally, to lay it all to rest… to draw a line under it. And I think maybe you need to do that, too. Go and see Miss Whittleton, as a farewell.”
“Not to try to change her mind?”
“You’ve said there’s no hope of that. So accept that, Will. Don’t tell her how miserable you are, because the last thing you want is for her to marry you because she feels sorry for you, do you? But tell her… oh, you’ll know what to say. You’re better with words than I am. But you were happy with her for a while, and happy in her company, so you could tell her that much, at least. And wish her well for the future. Draw a line under it, Will, and move on.”
~~~~~
The packing was interminable. So many boxes and packages and awkwardly shaped things that had to be wrapped and squeezed in somehow. And then, on the very last day, Connie went into spasms of uncertainty. Had she packed her favourite ivory fan? What about the green twilled sarcenet with spangles that she wanted to wear for the last evening? And Lady Mary had lost her favourite doll again. So it was that Eloise was on her knees in the cavernous entrance hall of Marford House, trawling through box after box. And all the time, her thoughts were miles away, focused on a handsome face above broader than average shoulders, and a mellow voice whispering teasingly into her ear.
And as if conjured by her fevered imagination, there he was.
A brief puff of cool air as the door opened and there he stood in the hall, his eyes fixed on her. As she hastily bent again to her task, he spoke to the footman, a brief exchange, his voice low and melodious. Oh, how she had missed that voice! But she would not look up again, she was determined on that.
The footman weaved his way between boxes and bags and rampaging children, to stand before her. She kept her head down, concentrating on the gowns she was sorting through, but she was very aware of the footman’s shoes, slightly scuffed about the heel, and the stockings, a little wrinkled.
“Mr William Fletcher to speak to you, madam.”
“No, no, I cannot! I am too busy. He will understand.”
It was unfortunate that Connie was so close by. “Nonsense, Eloise. I can spare you for a few minutes. Go and talk to Mr Fletcher. The Gold Antechamber will be empty just now.”
Connie would not be gainsaid, for she had an unfailing belief in her own match-making skills and even now she imagined the betrothal could be salvaged. Eloise rose to her feet, brushed down her skirt and crossed the hall to where Will stood.
He looked so fine — so handsome and manly and everything that was desirable. She wanted to cry. She was afraid that her self-command would crumble, and what good would that do? Summoning up the last shreds of her composure, she made her curtsy, and led him to the antechamber. Then she turned to face him, quaking, and awaited whatever he should say.
“Miss Whittleton,” he began.
Thank heavens! He was choosing to be formal. That would make it a little easier.
“Miss Whittleton, I could not let you depart without begging the favour of a few minutes of your time. I thank you for granting me that boon. There is something I must say before you leave… for my own peace of mind, and I hope for yours also. Be assured it is not my intention to distress you, and I shall not detain you for long. When you ended our betrothal, I confess that I was angry at first. I felt that you had tricked me, and no man likes to be tricked. But your reasons were understandable. You thought me devoid of any semblance of gentlemanly manners, and wished to teach me a lesson. It was a necessary lesson, I understand that now, and it is gratifying that you consider it well learned. I feel myself to be a better man for your patient teaching.”
So stilted and constrained, not like his usual easy way with words. This was a rehearsed speech, she realized. He paused, as if waiting for her to speak. Dared she trust her voice? She must try, because then perhaps he would leave and she could recover her scattered wits.
“I am glad to hear it.”
“You look disbelieving, but truly I have learnt my lesson. You forced me to become the gentleman I pretended to be, but I speak to you now, not as a gentleman to a lady, but as a man to a woman… from the heart. I am sorry that you chose to end our engagement, for I should have been proud to lead you to the altar, but I cannot regret anything else that has passed between us. Well… one thing perhaps, but that apart, I must tell you that these past weeks have been the happiest of my life. It is a time I shall always reflect upon with the pleasantest of memories. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for allowing me to enjoy your company and to experience for a short time the ways of a true lady. I wish you every happiness in the future, and may God bless you, madam.”
The happiest weeks of his life?And yet he was leaving? A moment ago she was wishing him at Jericho, but now she could not bear to see him leave.
He bowed and turned for the door, but she burst out, “Is that it? Thank you and goodbye?”
With a puzzled expression, he said, “I do not see what else there can be. You are going back to Bath and I go to Hertfordshire. Who knows if we may ever meet again.”
Who knows if we may ever meet again…The words echoed in her mind like the tolling of a funeral bell. He was going away and she would never see him again. How could she let him go? And yet how could she stop him?
He was waiting, gazing at her with those clear eyes… brown, or hazel, perhaps. Such beautiful eyes. If only she could think straight! But something in his face had changed. The stiffness, the certainty had faded into wariness. She had drawn him away from the prepared speech, and perhaps into more treacherous territory.
“Why did you come here?” she said, her hands twisting. So much effort to maintain her composure, but her hands betrayed her.
