Chapter 3 #2
I narrowed my eyes at Mama. Derbyshire was one county I would rather never return to. Mr. Green had too much influence there. Mama couldn’t mean for us to return to Silverfork, could she? After all I’d done to remove us from that situation?
I set my spoon down next to the bowl. I’d been starving when we arrived, but the food wasn’t sitting well. “Why do you think we will be returning to Derbyshire, Mama?” I tried to keep my voice neutral.
Mama met my eyes. “It’s our home, Anna.”
“Mama.” My voice was hard. The small noises that so often accompanied dinner stopped. Not a fork or a glass moved. All eyes turned to the two of us. “Mama, you didn’t.”
Mother glanced nervously at the men and women around her. She couldn’t tell them what terrible straits we were in, but I could tell she wanted to. Perhaps this jury could exonerate her.
“Mama . . .”
“We can talk about it later, Anna. For now, let’s enjoy our dinner.”
Mr. and Mrs. Preston seemed to understand Mama’s meaning and pointedly returned to the food on their plates, but David’s eyes remained on us until the butler entered the room and whispered something in Mr. Preston’s ear.
Mr. Preston’s face pulled back in surprise before he finally whispered something back to the butler.
After the butler left, Mr. Preston turned to Mama. “It seems we are to have another guest at dinner. A friend of yours, Mrs. and Miss Atwood.”
“A friend of ours?” An icy fear twisted at my heart. I clamped a fistful of my dress into my hand and turned toward Mama. She wouldn’t look me in the eye. She fiddled with her napkin in her lap, then started straightening her perfectly placed fork and knife.
“What have you done?” What little soup I’d eaten seemed to rise in my throat. I had a sudden desire to run out of the room, but even that desire was overshadowed by the stabbing pain of deceit. How could my own mother have done this?
She didn’t respond.
Two servants hurriedly placed another set of dishes in front of a vacant chair. I concentrated on my breathing. I could be wrong. Please let me be wrong.
“Mr. Green,” the Butler announced, and I crunched the napkin in my lap into a small ball. What could have possessed her?
“Mother!” I whispered harshly under my breath.
She leaned over and placed her mouth near my ear. “I didn’t think he would come so soon. I only wrote to him yesterday. I told him to wait another week, when we would be desperate.” She sighed heavily. “But be reasonable. What would one more week have gotten us? We have nowhere else to go.”
My mouth opened to form a sharp retort, but nothing came.
Had I actually thought I could find us a place to live rent-free for a year and a half?
Or that I would be able to find a governess position that would allow Mama to live in the family’s home with me?
I’d gained some confidence in my plans when Mama’s mood had improved, but that had not been because she’d trusted in my abilities; it had been because she’d written to Mr. Green.
Mr. Green walked into the room with an air of owning it, his head held high and proud despite the lack of hair on top of it. His mustard-brown eyes found mine, and he immediately walked in my direction, not bothering to introduce himself to the hosts.
“Miss Atwood.” He bowed low from behind my chair, and I instinctively pushed my torso into the table to get as far away from him as possible. “It is so wonderful to see you again.”
I barely managed a nod while keeping my face turned away from him. I couldn’t look at him. Not yet. Not knowing that this time, if I gave him any encouragement at all, he would become my husband.
“Mr. Green?” Mr. Preston asked politely, standing from his chair.
Mr. Green took one step away from me and toward the head of the table. “Ah, you must be Mr. Preston. What a pleasure. Thank you for allowing me to join you for dinner at such late notice.”
“Yes, well, I was quite surprised at your arrival, but of course, we couldn’t allow you to wait in the drawing room while we ate.”
Mr. Green grinned. “I believe before the night is over, I will have repaid your hospitality with some exciting news.” He bowed in my direction.
“Who, exactly, are you?” David said with a voice more like the warning growl of a dog than one for polite conversation. His grip on his fork was forceful enough to make the veins in his hand stand out.
“Didn’t Mrs. Atwood mention me? I am Mr. Green. I have been this young lady’s neighbor and friend for the past six years.”
If by friend he meant unfortunate admirer, he was right.
He’d claimed to have an attachment to me almost as soon as we’d moved from Atwood Manor to Cousin Agatha’s home.
If I’d tried to meet or even converse with anyone else in town, he’d always been there, hovering, showing with looks and words that he felt I was his.
I’d thought I was finally free of him. And the sight of him brought back all the reasons we’d left. The man made me feel trapped and isolated, and even looking at him had me retreating into myself.
When I didn’t respond to his bow, Mr. Green found his seat and proceeded to dish up copious mounds of food on his plate.
I barely spoke for the rest of dinner, but I didn’t need to.
Mr. Green spoke enough for everyone. And when he proudly mentioned his fifteen hundred pounds a year, I thought I heard a huff from David’s direction.
David didn’t speak though. Even in the dim dining room, I could see red spots of color forming along his cheekbones. He chewed his food so quickly the muscles in his jaw contracted distractingly with every bite.
When the door was finally opened to the adjoining drawing room, I dashed for it as if I were a prisoner escaping Newgate.
“I will forgo smoking this evening,” Mr. Green said quickly as the other ladies rose from their seats, “and head directly to socializing with the women, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh,” Mr. Preston said, surprised. I froze, waiting for his response. Surely he wouldn’t allow Mr. Green to be alone with us. But he nodded. “That is a fine idea. Why don’t all the men join you, seeing as Mr. Tate doesn’t smoke, and I do so rarely.”
I silently blessed Mr. Preston. Mr. Green looked defeated, but that didn’t stop him from quickly reaching me where I’d stopped halfway to the drawing room.
He put out his arm, and just as with every other aspect of our relationship, I felt as though I had no other option than to take it.
David rose from his seat and offered his hand to his sister, then walked around the table and proffered an arm to Mama as well, leaving Mr. Preston free to escort Mrs. Preston in.
As soon as we crossed the threshold into the drawing room, I pulled my arm away from Mr. Green and made my way to the bookshelf.
I fully planned on ignoring everyone and pretending to read a book.
I couldn’t believe Mama had done this. Leaving Mr. Green’s society was one of the most freeing things I had ever done.
He’d known about Uncle Atwood and anyone we may have visited in London, but Breckenridge?
I’d chosen it as the one place he’d never know about.
And now Mama had ruined everything by telling him where we were.
He followed me to the bookshelf, watching as I chose a book of poetry, then stayed on my heels as I sat on a club chair. Mr. Green looked for a place to sit nearby, but I had chosen the one seat far from any other.
“Mrs. Atwood.” Mr. Green didn’t look away from me as he spoke. “I would like to ask your permission to speak to your daughter alone.”
“No,” I said and was surprised to hear my answer echoed by David and Mr. Preston.
I looked across the room at them with surprise.
David was standing between my mother and his sister with his arms folded across his chest and legs shoulder-width apart.
Mr. Preston had a similar stance, and I could see in his eyes a firmness that implied he wanted to help.
Mr. Preston’s answer made sense. He felt some responsibility for Mama and me since we were relying on his hospitality.
But David? What reason could he have for answering for my mother?
“I beg your pardon?” Mr. Green gave the two men a look of disbelief. He wasn’t used to people standing up for me. I wasn’t used to people standing up for me. “I believe I asked her mother.”
“I beg your pardon.” David’s eyes were hard, and he spoke before Mr. Preston had the chance. “But an answer from Miss Atwood should be answer enough.”
Mr. Green took a step toward David. “I don’t believe I caught your name.”
“That is because you didn’t ask it.” David’s mouth twisted, and he did not extend a hand to Mr. Green. “Mr. David Tate.”
Mr. Preston stepped forward but David waved him off. There was no reason Mr. Preston should have listened to David. Other than Lord Murphy, the Prestons were the most influential family in the county. But Mr. Preston did.
“Well, Mr. Tate.” Mr. Green cleared his throat and sucked in his paunchy stomach.
“I do believe this is none of your concern.” Mr. Green was not used to being denied anything.
In Silverfork, he owned the butchers and the haberdashery, which also gave him an enormous amount of power with those who worked at the bank. Everyone had to keep on his good side.
For six years, I’d avoided him when I could, given him polite answers to his forward questions, and rejected his proposals, and yet this time, I didn’t know what to do. Our short respite away from him hadn’t been much of a respite at all.
The truth was, we had nowhere to go. Could I be happy knowing I had provided a home for myself and my mother, even if it meant succumbing to the man who everyone in Silverfork had succumbed to?
At least no one would be surprised by the union.
Everyone had expected him to win me over much sooner than this.