Chapter Eighteen #2
Kate had to bite back a smile at Henry’s discomfiture.
“Ah.” He shifted. “How very kind of you, but I fear I must decline. I’m only here for a short time, and I particularly wanted to speak to Kate.
In private, if I may.” He looked around the tiny apartment again as if searching for a place in which they might be alone.
Finding none, he frowned. “Perhaps you might favor me with a walk outdoors, Kate? There’s something very particular I wish to speak to you about. ”
Kate let out a deep breath. Would he never leave her alone?
As much as she had desired a walk, this is not what she had envisioned.
“You may speak to me here,” Kate said, folding her arms across her chest. “There are no secrets between us,” she said with mock sweetness, delighted to be able to use his favorite phrase against him.
“Ooo!” Ann clucked.
“But it is a very private sort of matter,” Henry insisted.
“I can’t possibly hold up supper,” Kate retorted. “You’ll either have to join us or come back some other time.”
“Don’t be a fool, girl,” Ann declared. “You go on, and we’ll save you a bowl. The man’s come all this way. Least you can do is hear him out!”
Kate rolled her eyes. “Very well,” she said stiffly, “come along.”
She picked up her old wool coat from the row of hooks behind the door and stomped past him down the stairs.
Henry hurriedly followed. “Nice to meet you!” he called to Ann and Sam, who were still standing in the open doorway.
Kate walked quickly down Third, wanting to get as far from the apartment as possible, knowing Ann would try her best to listen.
Her mind was racing. She had to admit that it was nice to see someone from home, though she would have preferred it to be just about anyone other than Henry Crawford.
What was he doing here? Her two worlds were colliding, and she didn’t like it.
“Hey! Wait up!” Henry called.
She wheeled on him. “What do you want, Henry?”
“I . . . I . . . how are you?”
“Fine. As you can see.” She pulled her coat tighter around herself.
“Did you not get my letter?”
“I didn’t read it.”
“I see.” He thrust his own hands in his coat pockets. “Why do they call you Marie?” He grinned. “Is it an alias?” He tilted his head slightly as he peered at her, and the setting sun illuminated his curls and his long lashes.
Kate looked away. “It’s my original name, apparently.”
He looked back toward the apartment. “It doesn’t suit you.”
“The name or the place?”
“Both.
“Well, as it happens, your opinion doesn’t matter.” She continued walking.
“Wait! Kate!” He caught up with her again. “I’m very glad you are . . . being cared for, but do you not miss home?”
“Not at all,” she said brusquely, ignoring the fact that this wasn’t entirely true.
“Well, we all miss you. Very much. Your mother, in particular, has been most distraught.”
Kate ran her tongue along the inside of her cheek. He obviously knew how to get to her.
“Mr. Kerwyn is the same, as you might expect. Louisa and Nettie are quite caught up in Louisa’s wedding plans, and little Minnie positively pines for you.” He glanced at her. “As do I,” he added with another grin.
She steeled herself and kept her gaze on the street. “How is work progressing on the cottages? When do you think you’ll finish?”
“Soon perhaps. By the way, Frank is thinking of converting one of the cottages into a little shop or a tearoom, seeing as the Merc has stopped selling local ware.”
She turned. “It has? Why?”
“Yes, had you not heard? As I understand it, Melody has returned to Chicago, and her brother is now handling the Merc’s affairs. Let’s just say he has a different idea of how things should be run.”
“Oh.” Kate felt oddly deflated.
“Frank says that he would be happy to sell your baskets—or anything else you make—in his little shop, though. If you’re interested.
” He looked back over his shoulder at Gordon’s Tap.
“Though it doesn’t look as if you’ve had the time.
” He stared at her for several long moments, and his eyes were suddenly vulnerable, pleading.
“Kate, this is madness,” he said softly.
She swallowed hard and bit her lip. Why did he have this effect on her? She didn’t like him! “They’re good people.”
“Yes, I’m sure they are. But we’re good people, too. And we miss you. Mary sends her love and implores you to return. She is going back to Chicago soon. Edmund is to follow at some point.”
Kate’s stomach immediately clenched. “Follow? Why?”
His eyes searched hers. “Has he not written?”
Dread filling her, Kate gave her head the slightest shake. “Are they engaged?” she murmured.
“Yes, I believe so. At least there is . . . an understanding.”
Kate suddenly wanted to run. Run anywhere to be alone, to think this through, to be anywhere besides here, having to talk to Henry Crawford. Had Edmund really proposed to Mary?
“Kate.” Henry laid a hand on her arm, but she immediately pulled it away.
With a grunt, Henry transferred his hand to his hair and rubbed it through. “Look,” he addressed the ground, “I behaved badly the night of your birthday party. I regret it very much.” He gave her a sideways glance. “I’m ashamed of myself, to tell you the truth. I beg your pardon. Please.”
“Fine, I forgive you. Now, let’s leave it at that.” None of that mattered now!
There was a moment of silence as he stared at her. “Could you not grow to care for me, Kate?”
Kate made herself look at him. Her world was fracturing again, and she felt that this time, a part of her might truly die.
It wasn’t just that Edmund clearly did not love her the way she loved him, it was that he was blindly choosing Mary, who was completely wrong for him!
Kate would happily give him up if the woman he was choosing was worthy.
A tear ran down her cheek, and she angrily wiped it. Oh, Edmund, how could you?
Henry reached out and brushed away the next one. “Don’t cry, Kate,” he whispered as he stepped closer, as if he were lulling a child—or attempting to trap a wild animal. “I’ve got you now.” Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “I’ve got you.” He gently stroked her hair.
Several more tears fell as she remained in his arms, absorbing what little comfort they afforded. Oh, Edmund!
Henry kissed the top of her head. “Kate, I really am in love with you, you know.” She stiffened slightly, but he persevered.
“I meant what I said before. You would make me a better person,” he said earnestly.
“I know you would. Honestly, I need you. And I want to help you, too. Support you. Rescue you from this. Does it not make perfect sense?”
Kate groaned and pushed herself away. “Nothing makes sense anymore, Henry.”
“Say you’ll marry me, Kate,” he urged. “Please. You’ll grow to love me. I know you will.”
Kate stared at him, her cheeks wet with tears.
Edmund was gone, and what was she to do now?
Perhaps a part of her had secretly believed he would come and rescue her, but she saw now how ludicrous that was.
Except Henry really had come to rescue her.
Did it matter at this point who it was? What other choices did she have?
Her father had been right; she had none.
She could move on to a bigger city and hope to find work, or she could accept Henry and return to Merriweather—or wherever he wanted to take her—and resume her art.
She was tired of fighting. Tired of running.
“Kate?” Henry asked, looking at her hopefully.
“I’ll think about it,” she conceded. “That’s all the answer I can give right now.” Another tear rolled down her cheek.
Henry’s signature grin immediately reappeared. “Oh, Kate! You’ve made me so happy!”
Kate’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t say I’d marry you, I said I’d think about it.”
“Yes, yes, I know,” he said, putting his arms around her.
“But I just know that you will. I know you think I’m inconstant.
And I have been. But not anymore. With you at my side, I can be the most trustworthy, constant man.
You’ll be able to set a clock by me. I can see it now!
‘Henry the Constant, Henry the Dependable, Henry the Faithful’ is what people will call me. ”
Kate, already filled with regret, allowed herself to be led back to the apartment.