The Proposal (36 page)

“Miss Walker is here,” the housemaid told Lydia not thirty minutes after her family left for London.

“Oh, please send her in.”

The women embraced in the middle of the room before Lydia noticed the bag in Marianne’s hand.

“Are you going on a trip, Mari?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“Right here.”

“You’ve come to stay with me?”

“Until you feel you need some time alone, yes.”

“But how did you know I didn’t go to London?”

“Palmer stopped and asked me to surprise you.”

Lydia hugged her again before inviting her to get cozy in a chair.

“Do you feel terrible about not going?” Marianne asked, her feet tucked up comfortably and her shoes kicked off.

“A little. I know it’s for the best that I not make that trip, but it’s so fun to be there to select the fabrics and patterns. Judith has gone with us every year to help me, and the children adore her, but I naturally wanted to go along.”

“Well, we’ll have fun,” Marianne comforted her. “And the children will have dozens of stories for you and keep you busy for a week after they arrive back.”

“I suppose you’re right, but I might have my moments of tears.”

“Completely understandable. I shall just cry with you.”

Lydia laughed.

“Did you notice anything in your brother yesterday?”

Marianne asked suddenly.

“Yes! I even spoke with Palmer about it.”

“What has come over him, Liddy?”

“I don’t know. He stared at you for the longest time.”

“Palmer asked him a question he didn’t even hear.”

“You don’t suppose,” Lydia began, but Marianne shook her head.

“Let us not suppose, Liddy. You might find that I lead the crying sessions this week.”

Lydia let the matter drop, as did Marianne, but if the women had been vocal about it, Jennings was still on both of their minds.

London

“I’d forgotten the comfort of this room,” Palmer said, his feet on the ottoman, his head back against the fine red leather of the chair. They had arrived at Aydon midafternoon.

“It is rather nice, isn’t it?” Jennings said from his place opposite the fireplace. It was a warm night and no fire was needed, but the trip had been a long one, and a few hours alone in the study, the children in bed, seemed to be the soothing prescription needed.

“One of Lydia’s regrets about not coming was how much she wanted to see this house again.”

“You’ll have to bring her next year.”

“Yes. Maybe we’ll come on our own and have a little time away.”

“You should. I may be here some when the children are in school, but I’m enjoying Collingbourne more than I ever dreamed, so this place will probably stand empty most of the year.”

“Is it just Collingbourne that you enjoy, or are there other things?”

Jennings smiled. “That was subtle.”

“I wasn’t trying to be subtle. After you spent so much time staring at Marianne on Sunday, Lydia wanted to know what you were thinking. I told her that speculation was pointless.” Palmer paused. “I also told her it was none of our business, and here I just asked you.”

Jennings had a good laugh over this, but when the chuckles eased, he was ready to talk.

“You, Lydia, and the children certainly add to my warmth for Collingbourne, and the church family goes without saying, but I will admit to you that the presence of a certain woman has made things a good deal more interesting.”

“When did all this begin?”

“I don’t know. It was just suddenly there, making me think that I’d been more aware of her than I realized. I even asked her to marry me again.”

Palmer was clearly startled.

“I handled it better this time, but she still turned me down.”

“How did you handle it better if she said no?”

“I mean in my heart—my reaction to the rejection. After she said no I realized that I went about things the wrong way. I wasn’t the least bit angry, just determined to do things differently next time.”

“Next time?”

“Yes. I’m not convinced that Marianne doesn’t have feelings for me, but she thinks—and who could blame her— that I’m only looking for a nanny. When she realizes she’s wrong, I think she’ll accept me.”

“You sound confident.”

Jennings fell quiet on this remark.

“What did I say to cause the pensive look?”

“I’m not confident, Palmer—at least not in my having a future with Marianne. I would hope for it, but I just don’t know.”

“Well, if you’ll take a bit of advice from an old married man, I suggest you find a way to express your feelings. Marianne is loved at home. Why would she leave the love of her home to go to a place where she’s not sure where she stands? If you can show her your heart, then at least she’ll know what she can expect from you.”

It was excellent advice for Jennings. He was not afraid to show his feelings, but without some sign from the lady herself, he wasn’t sure what tack to take.

“I’ll do it,” he said quietly, and Palmer even asked him about the remark, but Jennings didn’t hear him. That man’s face told how far away his thoughts were just then, and Palmer wasn’t even sure Jennings remembered he was in the room.

Chapter Twenty

The horse ride to Blackburn Manor helped clear Jennings’ mind. He was simply going to extend an invitation to Marianne. He could have sent it by servant, but this gave him a reason to see her during the week.

The boys—Frank, Thomas, Walt, and James—were all headed back to school the following Monday. The families were planning a small party on Saturday, just five days off. They all wanted Marianne to come, and Jennings had offered to invite her.

He was shown into the large salon, and that was where Marianne found him.

“Hello,” she said quietly, still wishing she could be herself in his presence. She’d been getting better until he had asked for her hand again.

“Hello. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Not at all. Please sit down.”

“I’ve come to invite you to a small gathering,” Jennings said from across the small room, his hat on his knee. “The boys all head off to school on Monday, and this Saturday we’re going to have a meal together.”

“Of course I’ll come, thank you. Thornton Hall or Tipton?”

“Thornton Hall.”

“And the time?”

“About five.”

Conversation ran a little thin at that point, and Marianne brushed an invisible speck of dust from her lap and tried not to fidget.

“I didn’t see your parents when I came in. Are they well?”

“Yes, we are all well, thank you.”

And after that brilliant exchange, silence reigned again. Jennings was perfectly happy to sit and look at the woman across from him, but Marianne was all but climbing out of her skin with nerves and embarrassment.

“Would you find me presumptuous if I asked you…” Jennings began, and Marianne found herself holding her breath, “to tell me your own salvation story.”

Marianne’s sigh was nearly audible. She thought if he asked one more time for her hand, she might go mad.

“I would be happy to tell you,” she answered, feeling a bit drained with relief and so starting out quietly. “There was a time in our lives when everything seemed fine, at least on the surface. We went to church every week and were very good. Then a man came along who opened God’s Word and told us we were not good. That announcement turned things upside down for a time. Some people left the church family in a rage, but others wanted to know more. My mother was one of them.

“She came to Christ, as did two of my older siblings. My father was furious. He was so angry with Pastor Hurst that he nearly forbade mother to attend, but he didn’t. So she kept on, and it was her peace and cheerful spirit that got my attention. Even though my father was unbearable during those months, she persevered. When I asked her about it, she told me what had happened in her own life. I had heard similar words from Pastor Hurst, but not until my mother said them did they truly make sense. She was living out this new belief. When she showed me the verse about being a new creature, I knew I wanted that for myself as well.”

“How old were you?”

“Sixteen, but it feels like yesterday. Many of our neighbors and friends came to Christ in a steady stream. At one time there were only a few godly men; now there are more godly men than women. Families are being raised to love and follow Christ. Nearly all of Collingbourne has been changed by the revival.

“We certainly have our areas of weakness, and we’ve had our share of hurts, but God is moving ahead of the Collingbourne church, and it’s been the most exciting thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you for telling me. I was talking to Pastor Hurst recently about the role Lois and Eunice had in Timothy’s life. He said that Scripture proves over and over again that a father’s involvement in a child’s walk with Christ is beyond value, but that God uses mothers as well. Your mother and you are certainly a picture of that, as were Timothy and his mother.”

“I never thought of it quite that way.”

“When did your father come to Christ? What were the circumstances around that?”

“God made no sense to my father. It took many months for him to see that he was viewing God through circumstances, not viewing his circumstances through God. In the end, my father had no choice but to admit that he was lost and afraid. It was a lovely day when he came from his study and told us that he’d gotten things straightened around with God. We weren’t even certain he understood what was expected of him—he hadn’t gone to church with us very often—but his life gave evidence to the fact that he was a changed man and still is.”

“And you say your siblings know Christ?”

“Two of them do. My oldest siblings, James and Elinore, do not. They were gone from Blackburn Manor when Pastor Hurst came, but they ask questions when they visit, and they listen. We keep praying.”

“I’ll pray also.”

“Thank you.”

For some reason, Marianne found this conversation quite intimate. Having Jennings know about her unsaved family and praying for them was very private and special. She was not sorry she told him, but suddenly the room felt rather warm and close.

“I shall not keep you any longer,” Jennings offered, having witnessed the blush in her cheeks. “We’ll see you on Saturday?”

“Yes. Certainly.”

Marianne saw him out and ended up blushing again once they were out on the drive. From the saddle, Jennings stared at her, his gaze holding her own and making her feel breathless. When he left, she took a moment to puzzle over this odd mixture inside of her: Part of her heart was glad to see him go; the other part wished he would stay.

“Is he still here?” Walker asked of his wife when she slipped into the study.

“No, I think he just left.”

“You didn’t go in and speak to him?”

“I just arrived back. Did you go in?”

“No.”

For a moment the two looked at each other.

“A man does not come calling on a woman for no reason, Liz,” Walker said sincerely. “He hasn’t taken her no for an answer.”

“Should you speak to him?”

Walker thought on this.

“If he loved her, she would accept him, correct?”