Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
Early the next morning, when Hattie, Millicent, and I were waiting for Mr. Merritt to arrive for our walk, Mrs. Drake still wore the same expression she’d had all last evening. So I decided to speak to her privately about the events of the previous afternoon.
“I am certain you mean well, Mrs. Drake, and I know you are partial to Mr. Welton, but please do not allow your preference for him to cause you to be rude to my other guests.”
Mrs. Drake gave me a sharp look. “Of what are you speaking?”
“Of your remark to Lord Brookhaven, when you told him it was good of him to call, as if you were dismissing him.”
“Well, if I was rude to Lord Brookhaven, I would think he would tell me so himself . . . if I was rude. Miss Robbins, I realize you have a preference for Lord Brookhaven, but let me put you on your guard. If your refusal of Mr. Welton’s offer of marriage was due to your attachment to Lord Brookhaven, then let me say that he, being a titled peer of the realm and from a very old, very proud family name, will be expected to marry someone of equal high social standing. You understand my meaning, I am sure.
“Mr. Welton, on the other hand, is perfectly willing to lower himself to marry a former governess of no particular family name at all. And I assure you, between his family’s inheritance and his aunt’s, he is likely to be very well set up in life, and it’s unlikely you may ever get such a good offer again.
I only say these things out of my concern for you, Miss Robbins. ”
She kept her brows raised during the entire discourse, as if she were truly and disinterestedly looking out for my welfare.
My breath was coming fast, but I reminded myself that I knew my worth and therefore did not need to allow anyone to make me feel as though I was worth less than anyone else. Mrs. Drake’s opinion could never change the truth.
“I understand your meaning perfectly well, Mrs. Drake, but I assure you that whether or not I ever get another offer of marriage, I will never . . . marry . . . Mr. Welton.”
Mrs. Drake stared back at me, expressionless, her lips pursed in a tight line.
In the silence, I put on my bonnet and tied the strings, determined to enjoy my walk and some conversation with the usually very agreeable Mr. Merritt.
A moment later, he arrived and we began our walk.
And Mr. Merritt was very agreeable. He smiled and talked and even laughed as he, Millicent, Hattie, Mrs. Drake, and I walked to Hyde Park. But indeed, I had to take several deep breaths and force myself to set aside Mrs. Drake’s words.
I did, in fact, enjoy the walk so much that I decided not to mention that the clouds looked ominous. Just as we arrived at the park, rain started to fall. We took shelter underneath a large oak tree.
Thankfully, we ladies all had our parasols. Though they would not keep us dry in a storm, they were better than nothing in this light rain, and each of us had worn a bonnet and a spencer. Mr. Merritt had his hat.
I was staring out at the rain before noticing that Mrs. Drake, Millicent, and Hattie were huddled under another tree a few feet away from Mr. Merritt and me. And Mr. Merritt was gazing into my eyes.
“Miss Robbins, you must have perceived that I have grown quite fond of you since I first met you at Lowndesbury House. And that fondness has grown into something more. You are lovely and kind and genteel, and I have quite fallen in love with you.”
My stomach did a strange flip. Was Mr. Merritt truly speaking to me?
Mr. Merritt, who had seemed nearly as far out of reach socially as Lord Brookhaven at the time that I met him?
Mr. Merritt, who’d told me that if I married Lord Brookhaven I would ruin him?
Mr. Merritt, who was confident and the very picture of a gentleman of family and fortune? Well, family, if not fortune.
And therein lay the trouble. He looked at me and no doubt saw fifty thousand pounds.
He was not the oldest son, and therefore if he did not marry for money, he would be forced to make his own way as a soldier, in parliament, or in the church.
And although I felt a thrill at being singled out by him, at his flattering speech, at his offer of marriage, I did not believe he loved me.
I imagined what Lord Brookhaven would say.
Merritt is a good sort of fellow, he would say in his monotone voice, and he does not wish to lose his life of leisure. He chose well in choosing you, for you would make him a much better wife than any girl he has met so far.
I flattered myself with the latter part of his imagined discourse, as the first part made me feel what I’d felt when I cried in front of him yesterday.
It was not a terrible offer for me, as offers went. Mr. Merritt’s family had not been associated with any scandals, and he would inherit some money from his mother’s side of the family.
“You are hesitating,” he said, then quickly added, “I understand. But I intend to make the church my occupation, and with my family’s connections, I should be able to secure a desirable situation.
We shall be set up very well, you must realize, and you will have whatever your heart desires.
I believe I can make you very happy, and I know you will make me the happiest man in England if you say yes. ”
Again, the two thoughts were at war inside me. On the one hand, it was tempting to accept someone of Mr. Merritt’s good looks, manners, and family connections. He was pleasant and a good conversationalist, which was more than could be said for most gentlemen I’d met so far.
But on the other hand, I was certain his main inducement for marrying me was my fortune. Could I ever feel truly loved knowing that he never would have thought of me as a wife if my uncle hadn’t died and left me fifty thousand pounds?
My head hurt.
“I need some time to think, to consider,” I said. “But please know I am very aware of the compliment you have bestowed upon me by offering marriage.” My voice trailed off.
He looked quite earnest as he said, “Please take all the time you need. You may think I should have taken more time to take you driving, to teach you to ride, to dance with you at parties, to go for walks, and to call on you, and perhaps you would be right. Yes, I see that now. But I see your character, Miss Robbins, and I know you are the kind of woman who would make a wonderful wife, and I was too afraid that someone else would make you an offer and I would lose you.”
I nearly said, I am not yours to lose, but I refrained, cognizant that my rejection of his offer, even if he didn’t love me, would cause him pain.
“As I said, I need some time to consider your offer, and I do thank you, Mr. Merritt, and I promise not to make you wait longer than necessary.”
“Thank you, Miss Robbins, for considering my proposal, and I shall wait as patiently as I can for your answer.”
Seeing his downturned face, looking as humble as I’d ever seen him—and I’d never seen him look humble before—made me feel all jumbled up inside and a bit weary.
Soon, the rain began to slow to a drizzle, and Mrs. Drake suggested we walk home before it could get any worse. Back at my townhouse, Mr. Merritt took his leave with a longing look, holding my gloved hand in his, then bent down and kissed it before turning and leaving out the front door.
As we took off our wet things in the cloakroom, Millicent cried, “He asked you to marry him, didn’t he? Oh, I just knew it! You shall be Mrs. Thomas Merritt! I am so happy for you, Charlotte. What a good match it is.”
Mrs. Drake looked dour indeed, and Hattie’s face registered alarm.
“I have not accepted his proposal,” I said.
“What? Why not?” Millicent said.
“Mr. Merritt is not in love with me.”
“Two perfectly good marriage proposals, and you’ve refused them both?” Mrs. Drake’s lip curled, and she looked away.
“I did not refuse Mr. Merritt. I told him I needed some time to think it over.” Besides, she should be happy if and when I refused them both, since I’d have no need of her the moment I was married.
“Hmph.” Mrs. Drake threw down her wet shawl and walked toward the staircase. “It is only fortunate for you that you . . .” Her voice became inaudible as she got farther away, but I knew exactly what she was saying.
Millicent and Hattie went with me up to my room, and we lay across my bed, each of us wrapped in a wool shawl as we waited for the tea I’d ordered.
“You should do what makes you happy,” Hattie was saying.
Would Mr. Merritt make me happy? I could easily imagine him as my husband, me attending parties on his arm, and the thought of being the wife of the vicar in charge of a church parish was actually a very happy thought.
I’d always imagined such a role in life to be pleasant and desirable.
I could spend my time being charitable to the poor of our parish, looking after the less fortunate, receiving the respect and well-wishes of our parishioners.
Lord Brookhaven’s face rose before me. What would he think of me marrying his friend? He knew Mr. Merritt better than I did. But the thought of asking Lord Brookhaven’s opinion made me cringe.
“He always did single you out when we were at Lowndesbury House,” Millicent said. “I thought he might be in love with you then.”
“But you know what he said to me, that I would ruin Lord Brookhaven if I married him.”
“You cannot hold that against him,” Millicent said, sitting up. “You were a governess then, with no money, and he was only trying to look out for his friend.”
And why had Mr. Merritt thought Lord Brookhaven was in love with me and on the brink of asking me to marry him? It obviously wasn’t true, and that hurt more than anything.
“But it doesn’t make me love Mr. Merritt, and it doesn’t give me confidence in his sentiments and claims that he’s in love with me. He certainly wasn’t in love with me then, so how can he love me now?”