Chapter Eighteen
Miriam wondered what was happening with Agatha and Donal. It surprised her how invested she was in their situation. Not that long ago she wouldn’t have cared less, but now she felt as if she knew them, and she had become part of their family.
Dangerous, that was dangerous.
She had already made the decision to walk away from Archie, so what on earth did she think she was doing playing stepmother to his daughter?
Besides, she had a feeling Archie was going to end things between them tonight.
He had been giving her sideways looks and kept taking deep breaths as if he was about to launch into a speech, only to stop himself at the last moment.
Each time her heart gave a judder, waiting for the axe to fall. And every time he didn’t say the words she was expecting, she was able to take a calming breath.
But of course the final moment had to come, and it happened when they sat down to supper. Archie had chosen a table at the back of the room, and she suspected why. She wasn’t at all surprised when he leaned in closer to her and said, “Miriam, I have something to tell you.”
So here it was. The end. Carefully she set down her fork by her plate of fish and asparagus in white sauce. When she turned to look at him, Archie was staring down at his own plate, the food untouched. She could see his hands clasped together, the knuckles white from the strength of his hold.
“What is it?” she asked quietly. And then, her irritation growing, she threw caution to the winds. “For goodness sake, Archie, out with it!”
He started, and then he nodded with grim determination. “You are right. The time has come. I have been a coward, and I should have told you when I began to realize how much I was enjoying your company. I didn’t want to bring it to an end, even as I knew it must.”
The wrinkle deepening between her brows. Archie did not seem like a man who had dangerous secrets. He seemed more embarrassed than deceitful. “Tell me what?” she demanded. “Archie, so help me, if you don’t spit it out I will . . . I will . . . I don’t know what I will do!”
“I am broke,” he said. And when she stared at him and didn’t answer he went on in a frustrated voice. “Bust. Bankrupt. Cucumberish. My pockets are to let. Now do you understand?”
She did understand, although she was struggling to believe it.
Archie had not been acting like someone who was broke.
She had seen the new clothes Agatha was wearing, and he had taken her to the theatre and to supper afterward, with no expense spared.
Had it all been for show? He had been playing a part, and everyone had fallen for it.
She had fallen for it. The poor man. He looked shattered, as if at any moment he was going to burst into tears.
“Archie, I am so sorry,” she began quietly, genuinely upset for him.
He shook his head. “Don’t pity me. I don’t deserve it. I kept this from you when you had a right to know.”
“You made no promises to me.”
“I wanted to. If things were different, I would be asking you to marry me. To share my life. But as I don’t even know if I will have a life outside of a debtors’ prison, then I can’t do that.”
“Oh my dear,” she whispered. “Is there no way . . .”
He shook his head decisively. “No. I will just have to take the consequences.”
And he would too. Archie was a good and decent man who would willingly pay the price. But for what? That was the question.
“Can I ask,” Miriam began tentatively, “how this happened? I have not seen you gambling excessively. Do you bet on horses, Archie?”
He chuckled. “Neither.” He took a breath and went on to explain, and his face grew sadder with each word. “I would do it again,” he said boldly. “My wife deserved every chance. And she loved her donkeys. I think sometimes they were her surrogate children. We could only have the one, you see.”
“I understand,” she said, but her thoughts were elsewhere. There was a plan forming in her head. She would need some time to formulate it, so she said nothing now. It would be too cruel to get Archie’s hopes up only to dash them.
He did not seem to expect more than her pity. He lifted his fork then put it down again. “I wish it could have been different,” he said wistfully. “I have enjoyed your company more than I can say.”
“I have enjoyed yours,” she whispered. “So much.”
“At least Agatha will be safe,” he went on. “I know Donal will look after her.”
“But what about you?” Miriam asked. “Who will look after you?”
Archie shrugged. “I will see what I can save from the bailiffs. Perhaps my neighbors will help with the animals, but there are so many.” His eyes sparkled with tears.
“I meant you, Archie. You will be alone and in terrible circumstances. I am worried about you.” Miriam felt like shaking him.
Didn’t he care about himself? But she understood that he was the sort of man who was more concerned for other people.
His daughter and his wife. His animals. He had given everything to others and put himself last.
It made her angry because Archie deserved so much better.
Automatically, she began to eat her supper, but she hardly tasted a mouthful. Her mind was working on the spark of a plan, expanding it, growing it. Maybe this was the very solution to her own troubles that she had been looking for.