Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“I’d thought you would head home.”
Honora wrung her hands together as she stared at the door, as if she could see through it. “I wanted to be sure Samuel was all right.”
“I believe he will be fine. Even better than fine, actually. I think tonight was a test to prove to himself that he could do it. And he accomplished even more than he dreamed.”
“And you are all right?”
Leonard’s brow puckered. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
As if realizing they might be caught at any moment, Honora tugged them to a vacant room down the hall.
She shut them inside, and he watched her warily. What was she up to now? “What’s going on, Honora?” he asked as she stood before him, her arms crossed.
After waiting a moment, she looked at the floor. “Remember when I asked you what you were afraid of?”
Leonard wracked his brain, trying to recall the instance. He had told her he was afraid of something? But honestly, so much had happened since they met that anything seemed possible at this point. “No,” he said, his tone careful and slow. “I can’t say that I do.”
Honora narrowed her eyes—giving him the same look whenever she was puzzling something out. “It was when I confronted you about your family and your brother. The day we looked for the Fageans. And I asked you what you were afraid of.”
Leonard’s entire frame tightened—his arms, neck, and legs. Surely she wasn’t referring to what he thought. How could she have remembered that? But of course she did. She didn’t seem to forget anything. So he decided to go with his best bet of getting out of this unscathed. Playing ignorant. “Oh?”
“You remember,” she said, eyes ever discerning, “don’t you?”
With a chew of his lip, he swallowed. “I do.” He stretched his fingers. “I just don’t really wish to talk about it.”
Honora took a few steps across the floor, drawing closer. “I won’t make you discuss it if you don’t wish to.”
All he could muster was a nod and one word. “Good.”
“But I think it would be good for you to talk about it, Leonard.” Another step closer.
His breathing quickened with her closeness. She was part of his fear.
“But I did wonder if tonight helped heal a part of your fears.” Her eyes lit with understanding. “Or made it worse?”
The moonlight spilled through the window, creating a shaft of light that encompassed their feet across the floor.
His dream from the other night flashed back into his mind.
The sheer panic of losing his brother. The ever-lurking fear that if Leonard ever married and had children of his own, they might have the same fate. And it was all out of his control.
But did he want to let Honora into that part of his life? Was he ready for that? He supposed she needed to know if they were to move forward. “I think at first it made it worse. But then it was better.”
Honora reached forward, and Leonard’s eyes swung down to their now clasped hands.
“I don’t think I will ever be rid of it though. This fear.” He lifted his eyes and met Honora’s gaze in the dark. “It is me that is the coward. Not Samuel.”
Her brow scrunched as her lips turned down. “A coward? No.”
“Do not lie,” he mumbled. “I already know it.”
“I think it’s a natural fear to have. And it further explains why you never wished to marry.”
He huffed out a humorless laugh. “You have me all figured out, don’t you?”
Putting a finger to the center of her chin, she shook her head. “No. Not quite. But I’m getting closer. And if you ever wish to speak of it further . . .” Honora took another step closer.
He drew in a breath, then gave a single nod. “Thank you. Maybe another time. Right now, I think we should both get to bed.”
Honora closed the final few steps between them and slipped one hand on his shoulder until it gently wove behind his neck.
She rose up on her toes, placing a soft kiss on his lips.
He pressed a hand to her back, wanting to hold her there for just a moment longer.
The moment was short, and yet it impacted him in a way their other kiss hadn’t.
Because that was the special thing about Honora.
She could see his cracks, and she knew when to repair them and when to leave them be.
And tonight, she wasn’t going to push him.
And he appreciated her all the more for it.
Leonard slept in longer than usual the next morning, and he was quite sure Samuel would sleep until noon.
He dressed for the day, then made his way downstairs to break his fast. When he arrived in the dining room, his parents both sat at the table—and their eyes told him all he needed to know.
There was about to be a discussion.
“Good morning,” Leonard said, helping himself to a plate from the sideboard. He heaped food onto it, then took a chair across from his mother.
“Good morning?” she said, her voice filled with disbelief. “It might be good for you, but it is less so for your father and I.”
Wonderful. They knew about Samuel.
“I’m sorry,” Leonard began, watching as a maid filled his cup with steaming tea. He took a sip, and when he placed it on the table, he changed his mind. “Actually, no. I’m not sorry.”
His father shook out his paper, folding it up and slapping it down onto the table. “Well, you should be. I cannot believe you kept this from us.”
“Samuel is a grown man. You cannot keep him locked up forever. I have half a mind that his loss of weight and abilities are more due to his sedentary state than his actual health.” He shoveled a bite of eggs into his mouth before he could say anything more.
Instead of the litany of accusations from his parents, he was instead met with silence and blank stares.
“What about Samuel?” his father finally asked.
Leonard’s head snapped up. “What?”
“Is Samuel all right?” Already rising to her feet, his mother hovered above her chair.
He felt his eyes roll. “He is fine.”
This was apparently enough to settle her, and she retook her seat.
“Then why are you speaking of Samuel?” his father pressed. “I am speaking about Mr. Hind and Miss Gillingham.”
“Hind?” Leonard put his hands against the table. “What about him? How do you even know about him?”
His father gave a disbelieving shake of his head. “He came to visit us last night while you were out. We had almost waited up for you, but decided to wait until morning when we all had a good night’s sleep to have our wits about us.”
“Except I did not sleep at all.” His mother took a large swig of tea as if to prove her point.
“Hind is a weasel,” Leonard said. He didn’t wish to discuss this at all, as he already knew where it was going.
“You’re soon to be intended is not suitable, Leonard. I highly suggest you look for someone else. Nothing is official yet, so it should not be too much of a scandal.”
“You suggest it? How magnanimous of you.” Leonard reached over and took the paper, if only to have something to distract himself with.
“What benefit can this young woman have to our family? She is a thief—”
“Was,” Leonard interjected, pulling the paper closer.
“Mr. Hind claimed this young woman stole from him. Are you saying he lied?”
Leonard worked his jaw. “There is more to the story, but as I don’t really think you care to know the truth, I will not exert myself on your accord.”
“Exert . . .” his father said, his voice full of disbelief and his head shaking from side to side. “Asking for an explanation is too much, then? You are so lazy that you cannot even bring yourself to discuss this?”
“If I am lazy, then you have made me so,” Leonard said, his voice louder than he intended.
He shot to his feet, the chair legs screeching back.
He tossed the paper onto the table. “I have never had a say in my life. Not once. I do not begrudge my brother or think he is to blame for any of this. But you, I can blame.” The paper scrunched in his fist. “I have not had any say in my life up until this point, and for years I did your bidding. But not this. This is where I draw the line. I will not be browbeaten in this matter. My wife is mine to choose, and I choose Honora.” The thought caught him off guard for a moment.
He had known he wanted to pursue her, but now the truth settled on him like a familiar blanket.
Warm. Comforting. He wanted to marry Honora.
He took a breath before continuing. “She is a woman you do not deserve to have in this family, and yet she wants nothing more than for us to get along and be of one accord. I do not think it possible, but saint that she is, she wants to think the best of you.” He took another breath to settle himself and looked toward the floor. “You do not deserve her.”
“In what way is a thief more honorable than a woman with good standing in society?” His father stood too, which only frustrated Leonard as he was nearly a whole head taller.
“She did not choose her upbringing, Father. We are all products of where we come from, but it’s what we choose to do with it that matters.
And she has chosen change. I admire that more than any family who hides things in closets and sticks their noses in the air as if to show their importance.
As long as you have someone to look down upon, you raise yourself up. ”
His father stared him down. “So that is it, then? You will marry this girl?”
“I will give you one choice in this matter. I can either marry Honora and be out of your life, or I can marry her and assist in whatever means you need as you always wanted. But it will be on my terms with the person of my choosing. Now, which will it be?”
His mother reached across the table and put her hand over his father’s. “Please, Richard. Be wise. I care not to lose two sons.”
Leonard could have said they haven’t even lost one, but he knew his words would not be welcome, and thus he kept his lips closed.
“We shall keep this all between us,” his father finally said, his hands pressed on the tabletop. “Is that clear?”
“Obviously,” his mother said with a huff.
Leonard felt a smile tug at his lips. He had finally spoken his piece, and for once, things seemed to be going his way. “Agreed.”