Chapter 12 Hanna
HANNA
Hanna haltingly confessed to Maria the events of the night before as they sat at the kitchen table.
She knew not what to do, and Maria was the closest thing to a mother to her now.
"The gamekeeper wants to marry you?" Maria's eyes widened over her teacup, and then a speculative look came over her face. She pursed her lips and tutted.
Hanna merely nodded, mute now that the tale was out and bouncing James on her knee. The baby grabbed for her necklace, a cheap string of wooden beads, and she gently redirected his hands.
"What did you say?" asked Maria, eyeing Hanna shrewdly.
"I said… no," Hanna hesitantly met her friend's gaze. "Maria, was I foolish? The man claims he wants to take James and me, give us his name..."
"Well, do you believe him?"
Did she? Hanna thought of the gifts appearing faithfully each morning. Of the fury in Alaric's eyes when those youths had threatened her. And of the gentleness in his touch when he'd brushed the damp hair from her face.
"Yes," she admitted quietly. "I think he means what he says. But I don't understand why. Why me? Why would any man willingly take on a woman with my reputation, with a bastard child?"
Maria was quiet for a long moment.
Then she set down her cup and reached across to cover Hanna's hand with her own.
"I'm going to tell you something I've never told anyone," the old woman said. "About why I’m so worried for your sake, you and the babe, even though it could cost me my parish allowance."
Hanna waited, her heart suddenly pounding. She had never dared to question Maria on her support and help, fully aware of the risk the woman took by taking in little James.
"I had a daughter once," said Maria, her voice steady, but her eyes glistening suddenly. "Her name was Catherine. She was around the same age as your mother.”
Maria cleared her throat and took a sip of tea.
“She was sixteen when she caught the eye of the squire's son. He promised her marriage, promised her the world, and she believed him. Why wouldn't she? She was young and in love and thought the best of everyone."
"Oh, Maria..." Hanna felt her heart twist, knowing already what was coming.
"When her belly started to show, he claimed he'd never touched her. Called her a liar and worse. My husband, may God rest him, tried to make the boy do right, but what is a tenant farmer against the gentry?"
Maria's hands trembled slightly. "I still say the shame killed my Tom, in the end. His heart gave out from the rage and grief."
"And Catherine?" Hanna whispered, though she already knew.
"Fever took her in the birthing. The babe, too."
Maria reached across and took Hanna’s hand. "So you see, child, when I look at you and sweet little James, I see the chance I never got to give my Catherine. The chance to help a young mother survive what my daughter couldn't."
Tears streamed down Hanna's face. "I'm so sorry."
"It was a long time ago now," Maria straightened, brushing at her own eyes.
"Now, about this gamekeeper of yours. If he approached your father, he is surely serious in his intentions."
"But what if he changes his mind? What if he grows to resent me, or James, or…"
"And what if he doesn't?" Maria interrupted gently. "What if he's exactly as he presents himself, a man who wants to protect you?”
Hanna looked down at James, who had fallen asleep against her breast. Her beautiful boy, innocent of the circumstances of his birth.
"I'm afraid," Hanna admitted softly. "I trusted once before, and look where it got me."
"Fear is sensible," said Maria with a firm nod. "But don't let it rob you of a chance at security. At least consider his offer seriously."
Hanna nodded slowly.
Maria was right, she owed it to herself and to James to at least think about the possibility.