Chapter 18
Blythe reached out for the precious bundle in Jane’s arms. “Allow me.”
Jane handed over her daughter, and Blythe perched on the edge of the bed.
“You are glowing.”
Blythe ignored the statement.
“You are radiant.”
She nuzzled her namesake’s shock of dark hair and inhaled. “Why do babies smell so sweet?”
“Have you and Doctor Sharpe come to an understanding?”
The urge to shout out her joy almost overcame her, but it was too soon.
“You have, haven’t you?” Jane persisted. “Don’t ignore me, Blythe. Yesterday, you were both awkward until you had to work together to ensure little Blythe’s safe arrival. Then you disappeared.”
“I had to tend to the cows, and he returned to the supper.” Blythe caressed the babe’s cheek. “Her skin is so soft.”
“Stop changing the subject. Have you resolved things between you?”
“Stop asking questions. You should focus on your recovery and this little one.”
Jane maintained a pointed gaze.
Blythe sighed. “Very well, we have reconciled.” She could no longer hold back a huge grin.
Jane clapped. “This is wonderful, and you are finally to marry?”
Little Blythe wriggled at the noise. “Yes.”
“I’m so happy for you both. Why did you not tell me yesterday?” Jane’s face fell. “You aren’t going to change your mind, are you?”
“Of course not! Gabriel wanted to announce our betrothal at the supper, but I did not wish to take the attention from you and your beautiful daughter.”
“You mean you don’t want to deal with your mam and the villagers, so you’re trying to delay the announcement.”
Her stomach tightened.
“Why do you care about what the villagers think? Most of the women are only jealous because they’ve been trying to catch Doctor Sharpe since you left, for themselves or their daughters.”
Bitterness surged within her, but she tamped it down. She had no right to such churlish sentiments. “I will no doubt be the victim of malicious gossip once again.”
“Let them gossip all they want. All that should matter is your happiness.”
“I said we would wait a few days, that is all.”
Jane grumbled. “At least tell Mother Dixon when I am present. I want to see her face when you announce your news.”
She squeezed Jane’s hand. “Once you have recovered enough to leave your bed, I will declare it to the family. I want to tell Violet first, and I shall write to Elijah.”
“You do that. By the way, I feel well enough to get up today. I didn’t linger in bed after the birth of my boys, and I have work to do.”
“Your only work is to rest and take care of my niece. Do not let Mama convince you otherwise.”
The rattle of a carriage below drew their attention. Blythe rose when shouts drifted through the diamond-paned windows.
A familiar black lacquered travelling coach, drawn by a pair of bays, pulled up.
“What is it?” Jane asked.
Blythe returned the babe. The infant squirmed at being roughly handled.
“I must go.”
“Why?”
Without answering, Blythe scurried down the staircase and out of the front door.
Mr Drake glanced up at her childhood home and his lips turned down.
The rude… His gaze roved over her from head to toe.
The man’s vulgarity would not affect her manners. “Good afternoon, Mr Drake. What an unexpected pleasure.” Despite her efforts, she could not withhold a disdainful tone. “What brings you to Midthorpe on this fine day?”
“I would have thought the reason was obvious.” Mr Drake scowled at the chickens that clustered about his polished pumps, then said, “I have come to take you home.”
The presumptuous… Remain calm. “I thank you for your gallant gesture, but I am home.”
Courtesy dictated that she invite him inside, but his obvious contempt only fuelled her desire to ensure he remained for as brief a time as possible.
Mr Drake flicked a foot, causing the hens to scatter, flapping their wings and squawking in outrage. “You cannot intend to remain here. Elijah has returned to school, and Mrs Simmonds is desirous to see Violet again.”
“Mrs Simmonds knows where we are and is more than capable of paying a visit. I shall invite her when I next write. She has been fortunate to enjoy the uninterrupted presence of my children for many years. I am certain she will not refuse to allow my parents the same opportunity.”
“You said you would return after the harvest.”
“I said I would remain until after Michaelmas, which is not until next week, but I fear you have made a wasted journey for I now intend to remain in Midthorpe for the foreseeable future.”
“You cannot do that.” He rapped his cane into the dusty earth.
“I am free to do as I wish without hindrance from anyone.”
“What about my proposal?”
“Forgive me for keeping you waiting. I thank you for the honour of your proposal, but I must decline.”
“But you cannot possibly expect to remain here as a widow. What of your children?”
“Elijah will continue his studies and attend university. In a few years, he will be able to make his own decisions, and I intend to support him.” She held the man’s wide-eyed gaze. “Violet will remain with me under the tutelage of her governess.”
“But I—”
“I am aware of your plans, but I do not intend to have you control me or my children and our shares in the family business through marriage. You will deal with us as you do the other shareholders.”
“Mrs Simmonds, you cannot—”
“I can and I will. Now, I would hate to keep you from your business in York, and I have work of my own.” She gestured to his equipage. “I apologise for not providing my answer sooner. Perhaps you should have written ahead, and I would have saved you the trouble of this pointless journey.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched.
“Goodbye, Mr Drake.” She lifted her chin. He must understand that she would not be swayed. She had all she wanted here, and the knowledge bolstered her confidence.
“Mrs Simmonds will not stand for this.”
“Mrs Simmonds knows where to find me if she wishes to raise the subject directly.”
Mr Drake harrumphed, then clambered back into the carriage.
Blythe remained before the front door of her family home with her hands clasped behind her back and her head held high.
The carriage rumbled through the gateposts and headed back to Midthorpe.
Through the dusty trail, Mama jogged into the yard with bright red cheeks and huffing breaths. Her head darted between the gateway and Blythe.
“I… have just… the carriage…” Mama held out her arm towards the now invisible vehicle.
“You appear flustered. Perhaps you should take some refreshment.”
After several deep breaths, Mama asked, “Was it your betrothed?” Mama fanned her face with her shawl. “When the carriage passed through the village… I told the others he must be coming to collect you.”
Blythe blinked. “You did not!”
“Why else would he come? Have you given him your answer?”
“Mama!” Blythe ran a hand down her face. It appeared she could not wait. “I am not marrying Mr Drake; I am marrying Gabriel.”
“What?” Mama’s cry echoed across the yard.
“I repeat, I am marrying Gabriel.”
“You cannot marry the doctor after all that has happened between you!”
“I can and I will.”
“But what of your life in York? You cannot possibly want to remain here as a physician’s wife.”
“It is all I have ever wanted, and I would thank you to remember that. How dare you tell your friends that I accepted Mr Drake! The news will be all over the village in—” Her stomach clenched. Gabriel would hear and—she ran towards the gates.
“Where are you going?” Mama called after her.
Blythe stopped between the gateposts and shouted, “To stop your assumption from hurting the man I love.”
Mr Smith moaned when Gabriel pulled the rotten tooth from his jaw.
He packed the seeping wound with linen to staunch the blood. “Rinse your mouth with a salt solution twice a day for the next two days.”
The man nodded, holding the cloth in his mouth.
“I suggest you purchase a toothbrush and tooth powder on your way out. We have a fine selection at reasonable prices.”
Mr Smith groaned, then stood.
Gabriel held open the door to the shop and followed his patient out.
A gaggle of women stood before the counter. “Another fine carriage. She said her betrothed had come to take her home.”
Gabriel’s ears pricked.
“’Ow much do I owe you?” Mr Smith mumbled.
Gabriel blinked. “Two shillings.”
As one, the gossips turned, and his mother met his gaze with a concerned stare.
While Mr Smith paid and left, the hairs on the back of his neck tingled. “Good day, ladies. To what do we owe this congregation?”
Mrs Dawkins said, “We were just discussing the arrival of another fine carriage in the village. Mrs Dixon was happy to announce that her daughter’s betrothed has come to visit.”
His heart jumped to his throat. No, they must be mistaken.
Mrs Briggs continued, “According to Mrs Haughty herself, her daughter is to marry her dead husband’s cousin and return to York.”
No! Blythe had agreed to marry him. She said so before and changed her mind. She had promised she would not go back on her word to him again.
The shop door opened and Billy Briggs poked his head through the gap. “Mam! It’s coming back!”
The women all scurried to the window. Over their heads, he watched the black lacquered coach pass.
Mrs Briggs said, “She isn’t in there. Maybe Mrs Dixon was wrong.”
Mrs Dixon had to be misinformed. Blythe would not do this to him again. He met his mother’s gaze, but she looked down at the counter. She doubted Blythe too.
He resisted the urge to shove the ladies aside and fly up the road to Silverdale.
“If she was already betrothed to her husband’s cousin, why did she come back?” Mrs Dawkins asked.
The ladies’ twittering faded into the background. Gabriel met his mother’s pitying gaze. Had everything been a lie?
No, it was a mistake. She had promised. They had expressed their love in the cowshed. Why would she do that if she did not want to be with him? She did it before and still jilted you.
A strangled gasp preceded a flurry of skirts, and the group of women moved away from the window to stand before the counter.
The door flew open, rattling the bell above. Blythe stood in the entrance, her chest heaving and her cheeks flushed.
The ladies ogled, and the air crackled with anticipation.
Blythe glanced their way before turning her attention to him. “Gabriel, may I speak with you in private?”
She had used his Christian name. That was a good sign, was it not? But for some reason, he did not wish to speak to her in private. If she were going to jilt him again, he wanted her to do it in front of witnesses. “I would prefer not.”
The attention of the ladies flitted between Blythe and him like an enraptured theatre audience.
Blythe lifted her chin and closed the shop door. “Very well.” She inhaled and blew out a long breath. “Gabriel, there has been a misunderstanding.” She shot the ladies a derisive glance from the corner of her eye. “My mother was mistaken. I am not betrothed to Mr Drake.”
The weight upon him lifted.
Ten pairs of eyes darted back and forth.
Blythe stepped forward. “I love you, Gabriel.”
A muffled squeak across the room transformed into a cough.
Blythe did not blink. “I always have, and I always will.” Her blue eyes beheld him, clear and true. “I do not intend to marry anyone but you, as we agreed last night.” She cleared her throat. “That is, if you will still have me.”
He should never have doubted her. His heart soared, and he stepped forward, cupping her chin before placing a soft kiss upon her lips.
A gasp travelled along the line of women. He should not have kissed her in public, but he could not help himself. She had announced her love and their intention to marry in front of the village gossipmongers.
He brushed her hot cheeks with his thumbs. “Of course. I love you too.”
A collective sigh rang through the ladies.
Blythe buried her face in his chest. He turned to their audience. Some smiled, and some frowned. “Well, ladies, I believe we have provided enough entertainment for today.”
With affronted mumbles and raised chins, the ladies shuffled out of the shop.
The news would spread through Midthorpe in the blink of an eye.