Chapter 18 #2
He limped over to a chair in the corner and sat down.
“As I said earlier, Miss Weston, I admire your desire to protect those around you. My title can protect you as well. And your family. Your father and I spoke, and I am more than willing to forgo a dowry and assist your family’s finances in whatever way I can.
It’s the least I can do for your uncle, may he rest in peace.
” He drew a breath, looking a little awkward.
“I know I am… older. But I also know you will make a suitable wife and mother. In exchange, I promise you will find stability, trust, and friendship in my home.”
I nodded slowly, letting his words settle deep within me. Suitable. I would be suitable.
The baroness’s room suddenly felt stifling. Lord Cranford was a good man, but when I pictured myself as his wife—managing this large, empty house and sleeping in this room—all I could envision was a suitable life.
But not a happy one.
It was nothing like what I imagined when I pictured a life with—
I folded the thought away. It would be no help to me right now.
“I am touched by your offer, Lord Cranford. But tonight has been… eventful, and I need some time to think things through. I will give you my answer when I’m feeling more myself.”
“Of course. Take your time.” He paused, then said, “Shall I send for the carriage?”
“If it’s all right with you, I’d like a few minutes to gather myself before returning home.” To my father and whatever punishment lay in store for me.
The baron nodded. “Ring for a servant when you’re ready to leave. I will return to my guests and bid you goodnight.” He turned to my chaperone. “Good night to you as well, Mrs. Sweete.”
She gave a brief curtsy in response.
When Lord Cranford shut the door behind him, I collapsed on the bed like a marionette whose strings were cut, feeling more exhausted than I had in years.
“What in heaven's name should I do?” I groaned.
Mrs. Sweete sat beside me. “Perhaps you could—”
“I know, I know—the rational choice is to accept the baron’s proposal. It solves everything.”
“But you—”
“Would be bored,” I sighed. “It seems so childish to admit out loud. The baron is a good man, and he only mentioned insects once today. But when I think about what marriage actually entails… Well, he won’t even look me in the eye most of the time.
” I pressed my palms over my eyelids. “It solves my problems now, but this decision affects the rest of my life.”
“If you just—”
“Set aside my wants and focus on my needs. You’re right. What I want doesn’t matter. But… children? I’m not opposed to the idea, but children with him? He is twenty years my senior, and I am simply not prepared to—” I swallowed and turned to my chaperone. “Did you ever want children, Mrs. Sweete?”
She drew in a long sigh, then placed her hands in her lap and spoke so quietly I almost couldn’t hear her.
“I have a whole chest of embroidered clothes I made for them. But children never came before my husband—” She turned to look at me with a sad smile.
“I have saved those clothes for your future children, Miss Weston. If you choose to have them.”
The tension in my body fled. I was touched by the grief in her voice as well as the gift of immeasurable love she had revealed to me.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Sweete. This must be painful for you, listening to me rattle on about these silly fears when your pain is so much greater.”
“They are not silly fears. They are good questions to ask yourself. Marriage is no small thing, and you are wise to consider all of your options. But the baron’s offer is a good one. Stability and friendship are dreams many of us would give anything for.”
I nodded, feeling ashamed for wanting more when others had so much less.
“But,” Mrs. Sweete said with that pointed look of hers, “you are not me, Miss Weston. You must determine what you want from marriage. And when you decide what you want, you must go after it.” Her smile faltered. “After all, you never know how long you will be in possession of it.”
I placed my hand on hers. “Thank you, Mrs. Sweete. You’re right. As always.”
The corner of her mouth tugged upward. “I am, aren’t I?”
We shared a small laugh, then I stood and said, “I think I’ll go and finally get that air I’ve been wanting all night.”
“I’ll be here. Always.”
With a grateful nod, I opened the doors to the baroness’s balcony and stepped outside.
I gripped the stone railing tightly and breathed everything out into the night air.
I had learned so much this evening—that Mr. Marceaux was a wolf in disguise, that Lord Cranford was generous enough to still offer his hand, and that Edmond had the honor to come to my rescue despite the way we left things.
Mr. Marceaux was stricken from the list of candidates, but what about the other two? The decision ahead of me should have been simple. It was anything but.
The wind pulled at the loosened curls of my hair, and I asked myself the same question over and over, hoping each time the answer would present itself.
What do I want from marriage?
I thought I knew. But now, I wasn’t so sure.
“—hear what Mr. Hawke has been telling everyone?” a distant voice said from below.
I opened my eyes, straining to listen as two mamas walked outside, fanning themselves in preparation for the fiery gossip they were about to engage in.
“Mr. Hawke… He’s the handsome young man with the striking green eyes, right?”
I smiled to myself. An apt description.
“That’s the one,” the woman said. “Well, I just heard from Mr. Hawke himself that there was nothing untoward about Miss Weston’s behavior that day.
In fact, the viscount’s daughter actually saved him from a horse-riding accident.
He admitted he had gotten on the horse without having received hardly any instruction. Can you believe such a thing?”
I clasped a hand over my mouth.
“Goodness!” the other mama said. “How humiliating for him! That explains that horrid sling.”
“Miss Weston is quite the equestrian, but what sort of gentleman can’t ride a horse? If you ask me—”
I leaned over the railing, hoping to hear more, but their voices trailed off. They were gone, and I was left with the horrible and wonderful truth that Mr. Hawke had saved me once again. He had asked me to keep his lack of skill a secret, and yet he had revealed it willingly. Why?
For me, I realized, a warmth spreading through my chest. This must have been his urgent business. He had continued to protect me at his own expense.
I sighed and leaned back on the railing, knowing I had to set aside my pride once again. Edmond deserved more than just my gratitude. He deserved a second chance.
It was then I understood why I couldn’t accept the baron’s proposal yet. Until I knew the truth about Edmond’s past, I would never be able to say yes to anyone else.
I was about to return inside and tell Mrs. Sweete my epiphany when a strange movement from behind the glass walls of the orangery caught my eye. I leaned over the railing to get a better look. Two figures moved beneath the branches of the orange trees—one of them wearing a rose-red gown.
Oh my.
“Mrs. Sweete,” I called over my shoulder.
She appeared swiftly at my side. “What is it?”
I pointed at the orangery. The woman in red threw her head back in laughter, then embraced the man she was with—though, I couldn’t identify him, as he was mostly hidden by the branches. “Do you see what I see?”
Mrs. Sweete squinted, then pulled back. “Oh dear. I thought Lord Cranford had removed him from the premises.”
I snapped my head to her. “You mean that man in there… is Mr. Marceaux?”
She nodded. “And the woman that’s with him is—”
“Sybella.”
Mrs. Sweete nodded again.
“Unlike me, she seems to be enjoying her time with that wolf.”
“I would agree.”
The delicious taste of victory returned to my tongue, and I turned to Mrs. Sweete with a smile that could only be described as diabolical.
“Hand me my commander’s hat, Mrs. Sweete. The war is far from over.”