Eight
Megan Bryce To Catch A Spinster
N athaniel found his mother at home the next morning. He threw himself into a chair, flopping into a boneless heap.
“Good morning, Nathaniel.”
“Mother. Prepare yourself; I’m getting married.”
“Hallelujah. I assume to Miss Blakesley?”
“You assume correctly. However, there is a small problem.”
His mother said, “And you’ve come to me to fix it? How odd. Are you feeling quite well, dear?”
“No. I have a recalcitrant bride-to-be who will not listen to me at all.”
“Hmm. You’ve picked well for yourself. I’d hate for you to be saddled with a woman who ran to do your bidding.”
Nathaniel tipped his head. “Thank you. Now will you help me?”
“Of course. A woman always needs more grandchildren.”
Nathaniel muttered under his breath. Where the idea came from that the female was the weaker sex, he had no idea. They always did exactly what they wished.
Anne said, “First, I must make sure that the lady in question does want to marry you. I would hate to coerce Miss Blakesley into marrying an ogre if she didn’t love you.”
“Thank you again, Mother. Why don’t I ask Barters to stab me in the back as well.”
“Your valet would never do such a thing, even if you begged. Blood is quite awful to get out of cloth.” She skewered her son with the look . “Why does Miss Blakesley refuse your hand?”
“I don’t know. Yes, I do. Because she has had too much freedom in the past. Too much time to think. She should have been married ages ago. She says she would make me a terrible wife.”
“Hmm. Have you considered that she may not love you, Nathaniel? I do not mean to be cruel, but perhaps she was being tactful.”
“Olivia? Tactful? She’s never heard the word. If she didn’t want to marry me she would have come right out and told me I was an under-educated toad.” He sighed. “She came damned close to tears when she refused me. She is simply being stubborn.”
She nodded, satisfied. “I shall call on a few ladies. How do they say it in the militia? I will gather my forces. It is a mother’s duty to see her children married.”
Anne held her hand out to Nathaniel and he rose to his feet swiftly.
She said, “Shall we plan on an autumn wedding?”
“I would prefer summer. Perhaps I’ll apply for a special license. Or carry her off to Gretna Green. I’ll need some rope and a gag.”
She shook her head. “No, Nathaniel. I only have two children and I will have full weddings for the both of you. Leave Olivia to me.”
“Thank you, Mother. I knew I could count on you.”
“Of course, my dear. That’s what mothers are for.”
“Mrs. Anne Jenkins is here to see you, Ma’am.”
Mrs. Blakesley nervously ran her fingers over her cap and fingered her fichu .“Anne Jenkins? Send her in, send her in. Oh, dear!”
What in the world was Mrs. Jenkins doing over here at this hour?
The housekeeper escorted Mrs. Jenkins in and Mrs. Blakesley rose. “Mrs. Jenkins.”
“Mrs. Blakesley. I do apologize for intruding at this hour, but I fear it is an emergency.”
“Of course, of course. Sit down, please.”
“Thank you.” Mrs. Jenkins sat demurely, barely glancing at the arrangement of the room and offering no courtesies. “Mrs. Blakesley, you must be aware of the attachment between our children.”
Mrs. Blakesley nodded. Then her eyes widened and her hand flew to her chest. “Tell me they have not run off to Gretna Green, Mrs. Jenkins! Oh, the scandal!”
“They have not run off to Gretna Green.”
“Oh. Then, pray tell, what is the emergency?”
“Perhaps I spoke in haste. However, there is a matter that must needs be drawn to our attention. It is our duty to see our children married fortuitously, happily, and if at all possible, before our deaths. You must agree with me, Mrs. Blakesley.”
Mrs. Blakesley held her breath, trying to dampen her growing anger. “I do quite agree with you, Mrs. Jenkins. And I find the match to be fortuitous and happy for both sides.”
“As do I. Which is why we must act together to marry them off.”
Mrs. Blakesley blinked. “Pardon me, Mrs. Jenkins. For a moment there I thought you had come to run my daughter off.”
“Oh, dear. Of course not. I find the match perfectly acceptable. Miss Blakesley is not as young as some girls these days, but I find that suits my son better. He would never be happy with a silly girl. The matter I wish to bring to your attention is the fact that my son has already proposed to Miss Blakesley.”
Mrs. Blakesley fluttered her handkerchief and bit back a squeal. “All six of my daughters married! Oh, Mrs. Jenkins, this is not an emergency!”
“She refused him.”
“Pardon?”
“Miss Blakesley turned him down.”
Mrs. Blakesley’s eyebrows drew together and she leaned back heavily in her chair. “My daughter has refused the only marriage proposal she will ever receive?”
Mrs. Jenkins nodded.
Mrs. Blakesley folded her hands carefully in her lap. “I understand the emergency now, Mrs. Jenkins.”
“Thank you. We both have children who remain unmarried far longer than one would wish. I intend to rectify that.”
“Indeed. I shall help.”
“Olivia.”
“Mama? What is the matter?”
“I was visited by Mrs. Jenkins today.”
Olivia looked down at her painting, mentally cursing herself. She should have expected this. Nathaniel was not the sort to give up easily.
“I was not aware you knew Mrs. Jenkins.”
“Of course we’ve met, Olivia. Our children were spending quite a bit of time together. In fact, some people would have been expecting an announcement soon.”
Olivia sighed. Whatever Mrs. Jenkins had told her mother, and Olivia was more than a little worried about that, it wasn’t good. She could tell by the calm, monotonous voice.
“An announcement seems a bit premature to me. But perhaps tongues start to wag as soon as a man asks for a dance.”
Her mother bent down until her nose nearly touched Olivia’s cheek. “It wouldn’t have been premature if you had accepted his proposal.”
“Ah. That was a bit quick. I hadn’t expected you to hear of that quite yet.” Or Mrs. Jenkins. Had Nathaniel told her? Everything?
Mrs. Blakesley walked to an empty stool and dragged it across the room, positioning it beside Olivia. She smiled stiffly and sat.
“I had thought Mr. Jenkins to have the approval of your brothers. Have you discovered some serious flaw in his character?”
Olivia muttered, “Brothers-in-law, Mother. You of all people should know I have no blood brothers.” Her mother’s forced bonhomie was more frightening than her anger.
Mrs. Blakesley ignored her. “Perhaps he has a gambling addiction?”
“I doubt it.”
“He lost his temper and frightened you?”
“Mr. Jenkins? Please, Mother. He’s certainly lost his patience with me, but never his temper.”
Her mother watched her for a moment, then turned to stare out the window.
“He’s kissed you, hasn’t he?”
Olivia couldn’t stop the blush from blossoming across her cheeks. She ducked her head, hoping her hair blocked her mother’s view.
“Oh, Olivia. He has!” She cleared her throat. “A man’s passions are not to be feared, Livvy.”
Olivia’s mouth dropped open and she stared at her mother in horror. “Moth–”
“No, it was not proper for him to kiss you, but not entirely unexpected. He has scared you.”
Olivia placed her paintbrush gently on the easel. Perhaps she could tiptoe out of the room and drown herself?
Her mother continued. “A man’s urges are sometimes wild and uncontrollable, Livvy. But a wife’s duty is not always a duty. It is possible to... to enjoy a husband’s embrace.”
Oh, dear God. “Mother, please! There is no need, really. Mr. Jenkins did not scare me!”
Her mother breathed a sigh of relief. “Good, good. Because there really is nothing to fear.”
Olivia turned to her mother and grabbed her hands, hoping to forestall any more embarrassing reassurances. “He did not scare me, Mother. And if I were to marry, I would be quite lucky to have him as a husband. But I am not wifely material. I would be awful! I do as I please and neither you nor Papa has ever been able to make me do otherwise. That is not a good quality for a wife. You must admit that.”
Her mother looked torn between a stubborn refusal to admit the truth and the dashed hopes of seeing all her daughters happily married.
Olivia squeezed her hands. “I respect Mr. Jenkins far too much to saddle him with me for a wife.”
“Perhaps you do not respect him enough to let him decide what he wants in a wife.”
Olivia stood, stowing her paints and brushes quickly. “He shouldn’t want me. I should never have accosted him. He is a good man, a decent man, an honorable man! And I, dear mother, am an idiot. I should have seen this.”
“Seen what? That a good, decent man would want to marry you? Of course he would! You have many good qualities to offer a husband.”
“Oh, yes? Do you think he would want me to take over the books for him? I shall certainly offer my services, but that does not mean he should marry me. I am what I am, Mother. A spinster extraordinaire.”
“Olivia Blakesley! Do not use that foul word in this household!”
“It is not a foul word. And just because you attack anyone who utters it doesn’t change the fact. Can you not see what I am, who I am? Nothing! Nobody! Five daughters married is enough! I am happy! I want nothing more! I do not want Mr. Nathaniel Jenkins!”