Chapter 21
It was all too transparent what Mrs. O’Donnell was trying to do, and Rory felt she didn’t have much choice but to play along. Bill seemed like a nice enough fellow, but she couldn’t help but feel for poor Hank.
“Miss Belmont—” Hank began.
“And where were you staying before you came to us?” Mrs. O’Donnell asked at the same time, drowning Hank out.
“I…er…I was staying at a friend’s house. She was very gracious and let me stay while she was away.”
“Oh?” said Mrs. O’Donnell. “What’s her name? Maybe we know her. We do know practically everyone in this town.”
“Well…uh…she moved here recently, so you might not know her yet. Her name is…uh…Darla Hartley. She and I went to college together.”
She chanced a glance at Hank, and his mouth twitched as he tried to suppress a smile.
Bill was looking back and forth between the two of them as if trying to discern what exactly they were up to. It seemed like Bill knew or suspected that there was something between her and Hank…had she seen him somewhere before? He was too perceptive by half.
“Lieutenant O’Donnell,” Rory said to Bill, “how do you and Lieutenant Hawley know each other?”
Bill glanced at Hank before answering, “We met in the army. We were stationed in France together under Major Fleet, and now we both work for the postal service on their new Airmail operation. It’s all very experimental. It only started in June.”
She thought his face looked familiar. If he was with the airmail, then he was at the fundraiser, and that meant he knew exactly who she was. No wonder he looked so wide-eyed and amused.
“By any chance, did I meet you at the PBA fundraiser earlier this week?” she asked, keeping her voice light and nonchalant.
“Why yes,” Bill said. “I don’t believe we were introduced, but I was in attendance. A very impressive affair. You must be very pleased with how it all went.”
Clearing her throat, she said, “Um, yes. Very pleased.”
She wished she could find a quiet moment with him to beg him not to tell who she really was, but there was no opportunity to say anything without the whole table hearing. She would just have to pray he kept his mouth shut.
“And are you any relation of August Belmont’s?” he asked, making her choke on a green bean. “I noticed he was in attendance.”
She gave Hank a panicked glance. Bill, to her irritation, seemed to know exactly how much he’d ruffled her and seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.
“He’s a…um…distant relative. Very supportive of his extended family.”
“Did you hear that, Finn?” Mrs. O’Donnell said in a none-too-quiet whisper. “A woman related to August Belmont beneath our roof. Can you imagine?” She looked like a kettle about to whistle from all the excitement.
Rory swallowed hard, trying to think what to say next to distract attention. “Mr. O’Donnell,” she said, turning to Bill. “You must be very brave flying the mail back and forth through all kinds of weather. Tell me everything about how it works. I find it fascinating.”
Having very little choice, Bill launched into an extended description of the intricacies of airmail service, all the while watching her with a hint of a smile. He was torturing her on purpose. She was sure of it.
When he finished, she followed up with, “Now tell me about the airplanes. I understand the Jennies aren’t made for this sort of thing. Is there any thought of replacing them?”
“I don’t know the details, but I know the major has been speaking with Glenn Curtiss about a new design. Hank might know more than I do. He’s the engineer among us.”
Hank looked grateful for the opening to say something, anything in this farce of a dinner.
“I spoke with Glenn Curtiss about the new design at length earlier today. The new planes will have purpose-built cargo holds so that we don’t have to sit the mail in a cockpit, and they’ll have stronger engines and greater fuel capacity.
They’ll make the daily runs significantly safer and more reliable once they’re in service. ”
Mrs. O’Donnell gave Hank a disapproving look. “I’m sure we don’t want to bore Miss Belmont with technical details.” Never mind that she’d been nodding in rapt attention moments ago when her son was speaking about the mail service.
“Oh, no, Mrs. O’Donnell. He’s not boring me. I love airplanes. That’s part of how I ended up running the PBA, you know. I met a pilot who suggested that something should be done for war widows, so I started raising funds, and here we are.” And he was sitting right over there.
Hank raised an eyebrow. For all her desire for independence, she was starting to wish she’d opted to stay at Hank’s. They could be having an intimate dinner right now, or an intimate something else. Instead, she was stuck in this tightrope walk of a dinner conversation, barely able to speak to him.
Mrs. O’Donnell interrupted her moment of reverie with, “It looks like everyone is done. Would anyone like dessert? I have a lovely apple cherry pie.” She began gathering dinner plates, and Rory followed her lead, gathering the plates from her side of the table.
In the kitchen, Mrs. O’Donnell murmured confidentially, “I’m so pleased to see you getting on so well with Bill and taking such an interest in his work.
He’s a very good boy, and he’ll make someone a very fine husband. ”
Rory had to work hard to suppress a laugh.
She managed to nod and smile indulgently.
Mrs. O’Donnell handed her a pile of small plates, which she took over to the table and began distributing.
When she got to Hank, their fingers brushed for a moment, and she flushed with heat.
Her eyes flitted to his, which were burning like coals.
She jerked back as if burned, determined not to give herself away, having made it this far.
Mrs. O’Donnell doled out the pie. The children, who had kept up a steady stream of chatter throughout the meal with their mother, were suddenly silent. Mary piped up, “Thank you so much for giving Adelaide French lessons, Miss Belmont. Now you’ll be a proper young lady, won’t you, Adelaide?”
“Oooooeee,” exclaimed Adelaide.
“Can you say thank you to Miss Belmont?”
Adelaide gave her mother a resentful look and put down her fork.
“Thank you, Miss Belmont, for teaching me French.” Then she dove back into her pie.
Connor appeared to be wearing more of his pie than he’d eaten.
Hank whispered something to him that made him giggle.
It warmed her heart to see him be so sweet with the boy.
“What do you think of the pie, Miss Belmont?” Mr. O’Donnell asked. “Shannon won the trophy at the county fair last fall for this pie. We were all very proud of her.”
Mrs. O’Donnell grinned and blushed at the compliment.
“It’s delicious, Mrs. O’Donnell,” Rory said. “You’ll have to show me how to make it.” She didn’t miss Hank giving her another eyebrow from the other end of the table.
As they wrapped up dessert, Bill said, “I really should get going. I have a flight first thing tomorrow.”
“Wait,” his mother said, halting him in his tracks. “Miss Belmont hasn’t seen how pretty the town hall looks in the moonlight. You should take her for a walk.”
Bill and Rory stared at each other helplessly.
“You’d like a little walk in the moonlight, wouldn’t you dear?” she said to Rory.
“I—,” Rory began and stopped. Mrs. O’Donnell watched her expectantly. “I suppose a walk would be quite nice.” At least it would be a chance to get out of the house, and perhaps she could manage a few words with Hank.
Bill glanced at Hank with a furrowed brow. Hank was looking daggers at him. With the face of someone on his way to the gallows, Bill offered his arm and led Rory out the door and down the stairs.
They stepped into the street and Bill turned to her. “I’m sorry about my mother. She’s a bit much.”
Hank burst through the door and charged toward them a moment later. “I’ll be taking over from here, O’Donnell.”
“Yes, but you’d better let me take her back in when you’re done, or my mother will make all kinds of assumptions. You wouldn’t want her thinking you’re stealing my future bride,” O’Donnell said, smirking.
“Give me twenty minutes,” Hank said with an exasperated sigh. “I’ll meet you back here at the fountain.”
He took Rory by the hand and led her away into the dark.
They stopped in the alley beside the closed greengrocer, and he pressed her up against the wall and kissed her so furiously her whole body went up in flame.
He kissed down her neck and worshipped her chest before returning to her lips and plundering them thoroughly.
“Oh God, Rory. I want you so much. I spent the last three days thinking about nothing but you.”
“I want you too, Hank.” She couldn’t pretend she was any less affected. “But we can’t. Not here. Not now.”
“I know.” He took a step back. “I thought you would be there when I got home. It never occurred to me you would move out before I got back.”
“I know, but I had to get my life sorted. I couldn’t stay with you. You know that.”
“You could if you were my wife. Rory, I didn’t intend to propose in an alley. I had a whole plan that fell apart completely. I’ll do it properly, I promise, but I need to know.”
Oh no. He’s kneeling. He’s pulling something from his pocket.
“Rory Belmont, will you marry me?” A diamond sparkled in the moonlight.
Every terrible thing the gossip rags had written about her began running through her head, along with Edward’s insults, and her father’s put-downs. She didn’t deserve him, and she couldn’t bring herself to accept. But how could she explain in a way that he would understand?
She took a deep, shuddering breath, grasping for a way to answer that wouldn’t break his heart.
“Hank, it’s so sweet of you to ask. I know you’re only doing it out of a sense of obligation.
I’m sorry you went to the trouble of buying a ring.
But I’m not ready to get married. I only gained my independence a few days ago.
I need some time to settle into my new life before I consider anything as drastic as marriage. ”
He stood slowly, leaning his hand against the wall and pinching the bridge of his nose. Every muscle in his body was rigid. “I’m not offering out of obligation, Rory. I’m in love with you. I want to spend my life with you. I’m lost without you.”
He slowly brought his eyes up to meet hers. “I love you, Rory. Please, I’m begging you, say yes.”
She cupped his cheek and stroked it with her thumb. “I have feelings for you too, Hank. Maybe it’s even love, but I don’t know yet. Everything in my life just turned upside down. I feel like I barely know myself. I’m not ready, not yet.”
He took a deep, shuddering breath. “But you might be at some point?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Right now, everything is so new. I need time. I care for you, Hank. Honestly, I do.”
“Is this because of your family? I know they’ll never accept me.” His eyes were closed as if bracing himself for a blow.
“It has nothing to do with my family. It’s me. I need time to be me without all the pressures and expectations of being who I was. I’m not ready to give up my freedom yet. I only just got it.”
“I’m not asking you to give up your freedom. I just want you to let me love you. Please.”
A tear dripped down her cheek as she looked at him. She didn’t want to hurt him.
“I’ll let you know when I’m ready. I promise. If I ever marry anyone, it will be you.”
He kissed her again with a little moan. It was the kiss of something ending and something else beginning. She clung to him, wishing she could soothe away his pain.
“I should go,” he said, pulling away. “Goodnight, Rory. I love you.”
“Goodnight, Hank.”
He turned and walked away.