Chapter 14
“Is that him?” Dorothy hissed.
Violet shook her head. “He wouldn’t have knocked.” She had a feeling she knew who it had been, and she rose to her feet and went to the door to check.
She was right. There stood Noah, a plate of cookies in his hands. “I found these in the kitchen,” he said. “Do you want to share them with me?”
“I’ll have one,” Violet told him firmly. “And you may have one also, Noah, and then you need to go and put them back, or you’ll spoil your supper. Did you ask Molly if you could take these?”
He looked a little shamefaced. “She always says yes when I ask for treats, so I thought it would be all right.”
“It probably is, but in the future, it’s polite to ask. Take one. And you may offer one to our guests, as well.” She waved him into the room.
Noah’s eyes widened as he noticed the other ladies for the first time. “I didn’t know there were other people here,” he whispered.
“These are my friends, Noah,” Violet explained. “This is Lady Agnes, and this is Lady Dorothy. And this,” she added to the two of them, “is Noah. He’s the child I told you about, the one my aunt took in.”
“Well, aren’t you charming, Noah!” Agnes rose and came over to give Noah a curtsy. “Will you be joining us for book club today?”
“Agnes,” Dorothy reproved. “I’m not sure our book is appropriate to share with children.”
“But we could read one of Noah’s books,” Agnes said. “We could all do that together. I wouldn’t mind pausing our club for the week to enjoy what Noah has been reading.”
Violet smiled at her friend’s kindness. “You would really be happy with that?” she asked. “I’m sure Noah would love to share his new bear book with us—would you like that, Noah? We could take turns reading aloud from it.”
“Oh, really?” Noah beamed. “I would love that! Let me go and get it!”
“Take the cookies back,” Violet said.
Noah nodded. He took the plate from Dorothy, who had just finished choosing a cookie, and sped off in the direction of the kitchen.
“Well, he’s precious!” Dorothy said. “At least your home comes with one thoroughly lovely housemate.”
“Yes, isn’t he lovely?” Violet agreed. “And I think he’s really beginning to warm up to me, too. We struggled at first—he had a difficult time letting new people into his life. He’s been through such a lot. But now that he’s gotten used to me, he’s really started to open up—as you can see.”
“Yes, he seems to adore you,” Agnes said, settling back into her seat.
She hesitated for a moment. “I’ve always thought you would make a good mother, Violet, but I knew that you didn’t want to marry, so I never said anything.
But how wonderful would it be if you were able to have a child come into your life in some other way? Do you think he will stay here?”
“He certainly will. It was a condition of my aunt’s will that Noah remain here and be raised by the owner of this house.
” She frowned. “I’m just realizing there’s something funny about that.
She might have just said that it was her wish that Noah be raised by me.
But she didn’t. She said the owner of the house.
And yet, her will specified that I should inherit the house. ”
Agnes waved a hand. “That sounds to me as if she was trying to give you a way out in case you didn’t want to be a mother to the child,” she said. “If you wanted to part with the house, you’d have the choice to leave him behind.”
“But she can’t have meant me to do that, surely,” Violet said.
“To just sell the house and let Noah go to whoever happened to buy it? That would be so irresponsible, even if I didn’t want him—although I do,” she added.
“But surely my aunt would make better provisions than that for the boy she took in.”
Before they could speculate any further on the subject, Noah came running back into the room, his new book clutched in his hands. He offered it to Violet, and she took it.
“I haven’t read any of it yet,” he said. “Can we start at the beginning?”
“Of course we can.” To her friends, she said, “Noah is learning to read for the first time. A governess is helping him with that, but I suppose they haven’t gotten to this book yet?”
“No,” Noah agreed. “She wanted to start with a book about a boy and his dog. That book is all right. At least there’s a dog. But I’m more excited about the bears!”
“Well, let’s find out all about them.” She opened the book to the first page and began to read.
The book was a story, fictional, but there was a lot for a boy to learn as well.
The main character was a bear looking for a cave to hibernate in for the winter.
As he made his way through the forest, he came upon all sorts of other animals and tried to get their advice on where he could sleep.
None of the other animals understood that a cave was called for.
The birds told him to sleep in the trees, and the muskrats said he should dig holes in the ground.
It was funny, watching the bear grow more and more frustrated as the tale went on—but Violet was most enamored of the rapt expression on Noah’s face. He was clearly enjoying the story.
About halfway through, she passed the book to Agnes, who continued reading.
Violet sat back and listened, happy to have the chance to just watch Noah.
He had moved to sit beside her, and as the story continued, he curled easily into her side and rested his head against her.
She wrapped an arm around him, filled with a rising swell of affection.
Maybe one day we really will feel like mother and son. Maybe that was Aunt Margaret’s last gift to me. And if it was, it’s a truly beautiful one.
The book concluded. Agnes closed it and passed it back to Noah. “What did you think?”
“That was really good!” he enthused. “I liked the part where the bear woke up from his hibernation and went outside and saw that spring had come.” He looked at Violet. “Do you think bears really pick flowers in spring like the one in the book did?”
“They might,” Violet said. “We could try to find another book about bears, and maybe that would answer the question. Maybe they like to snack on flowers.”
“They eat flowers?” Noah laughed. “That’s a funny snack!”
“It would be, wouldn’t it! I don’t know if they do or not. We can try to find out, though. Books are such a good way to learn things, aren’t they?”
Noah looked pensive for a moment. “Do you think Jonathan would get me some more books about bears if I asked? Maybe even a harder one—not a story, but a book for learning about bears? I couldn’t read it myself, but you could read it to me. Or he could.”
“I’m sure he would do that if you asked him,” Violet said.
To her surprise, she didn’t feel any sense of negativity at all about it—in fact, she was surprised at herself for the way she had reacted the first time he had suggested getting books for Noah.
Why had she jumped to an unkind conclusion about that?
Why had she been so certain that he was only doing it to try to manipulate the situation?
Because I want to keep Noah, and I felt threatened. That realization made her feel just awful. Wanting to serve as Noah’s mother was one thing, but it was wrong of her to be jealous of him. He deserved as many people in his life who would love him as he could get.
Thinking about that shifted something inside her.
She no longer wanted to guard against Jonathan. Not at all. In fact, now she truly wanted him here. And it wasn’t just out of curiosity or intrigue. It was because she knew that he really cared for Noah, that his feelings were genuine. And she wanted Noah to have that.
“I think he would do it,” Noah was saying. “But you two aren’t still fighting, are you?”
“What?” She blinked. Agnes and Dorothy both looked at her curiously.
“I know you were angry at him a few days ago,” Noah explained. “I told him he needed to apologize to you so that you two could be friends again. Did he do it? Are you friends now?”
Her friends were watching her keenly. Violet felt heat rise to her cheeks. She didn’t want to explain to them what had happened—how she had misjudged Jonathan’s intentions and gotten angrier at him than he had rightly deserved.
She addressed Noah. “We spoke about it,” she told him. “It wasn’t all his fault that I was angry that day. There was a misunderstanding. Everything is all right now.”
“So you are friends?” Noah confirmed.
“That’s right,” she told him. “We’re friends.”
“All right,” he said. “Good. Because like I told him, you’re both my friends, and I don’t want you to be enemies.”
“No. I promise we aren’t,” she said. “You don’t have to worry about that.”
He grinned. Then he turned to Agnes and Dorothy. “It was very nice to meet you ladies,” he said, giving a bow. “I hope to see you again in the future.”
They both chuckled and made their compliments to him as well, and Noah took his leave.
“He really is something,” Dorothy said admiringly. “I like him quite a bit, Violet. He’s a very sweet little boy. I think you’re lucky to have him—and I think he is lucky to have you. You’re going to be a wonderful presence in his life, whatever form that ends up taking.”
“I agree,” Agnes said. She was still smiling—but there was something about the penetrating way she was looking at Violet that seemed to be assessing the situation.
Violet wondered what her friend had noticed, what she was seeing.
It had to be something to do with Noah’s comment about her argument with Jonathan.
Agnes must be wondering what had happened there.
But if she was, she seemed content to simply wonder, and not to try to satisfy her curiosity in any way, for she didn’t ask any questions. She simply allowed the matter to rest.
The three ladies returned to their book club, discussing the events of the novel they were reading, but Violet couldn’t bring herself to focus on that. She sat quietly, letting the other two dominate the conversation while she tried to resolve the thoughts that chased one another through her mind.
This racing thought pattern seemed to be a nonstop thing lately. She had been unable to get rid of it.
It was Jonathan. It was always Jonathan.
Once she started thinking about him, it was difficult to stop.
That smile of his. That charm. The way he could surprise her at every turn, doing the most strangely kind things out of nowhere when she least expected it.
Except that, truth be told, she was coming to anticipate it more and more.
When Noah asked him for more books, she felt certain he would say yes.
That was the kind of man he was—it had just taken her a while to see it.
But he’s also the kind of man who stands in front of me with his shirt off, looking at me and making me forget my own name.