What A Gentleman Wants (4 page)

“Yes, the sun doesn’t seem to shine as often in the city.” David squinted at the sky, realizing that she was right. Middleborough was growing on him: the spare furnishings of the house, the fresh breeze that blew through the garden, the absolute silence that left a man no choice but to examine his own thoughts. David hadn’t indulged in such introspection in years, perhaps never, and while it might have been the influence of living in the vicarage, he began to feel as though he should let the fresh air into his life as well.

He knew he was an irresponsible rogue—his brother had been telling him so for years, and Marcus was never wrong about anything—but David had never regretted a thing until now. Perhaps this was the turning point in his life, the crossroads he had been galloping toward. Perhaps being marooned in a vicarage was his chance at redemption.

Mrs. Preston went into the kitchen to tend to her bread. David watched her go, thinking that he wouldn’t mind absorbing some of her calm self-possession. He could never picture her worked up into a fury over something like being outbid on a horse, nor racing down a dirt road and breaking her leg. Everything she did seemed to have a reason, a purpose. His moment-to-moment existence began to seem, at that moment, a trifle pointless.

For the first time, David began to consider the possibility that the broken carriage wheel was a blessing after all.

“Why are you moving house?”

Hannah looked up in surprise at the sound of his voice. David was watching her from the doorway, leaning on his crutch. In the two weeks he had been at the vicarage, they had become friends of a sort, and he had asked her to call him by name. Hannah had seen stranger friendships develop, when Stephen would help the town drunk or a servant cast out for being with child. While not quite as desperate as those souls, Hannah sensed a deep insecurity in David, one he took great pains to hide behind a brash, cocky front. Still, he was amusing and witty and very easy to talk to, and she found she genuinely liked him. “Why are you walking around? Dr. March said you should wait another fortnight at least before putting weight on your leg.”

He hopped into the room and sat with a thump on the threadbare sofa. “Willy told me you’re moving house soon. Why?”

Hannah resumed packing books. She couldn’t take all of them with her, and was trying to choose which to keep. “This is the vicarage. The new vicar will be arriving the week after next.”

He was silent. “And where will you go?”

“Back to my father’s.” Hannah weighed a well-loved novel against a volume of medicinal remedies, finally setting the novel aside with a twinge of sadness. She loved reading, and the novel was a gift from Stephen.

“Why are you leaving that book?” He had it in his hands before Hannah could stop him. He flipped it open and saw the title page and Stephen’s note.

“I can’t take everything.” She took the book back. “Did you need something? Has Willy not returned yet from town?”

He shifted, propping his splinted leg on the sofa. “I was just seeking a little company. I found this in my room, and thought you might know how it came to be there.” He held out a bundle of braided rags. Hannah smiled.

“I made it for Molly when she was getting her teeth. She chewed on it to help the pain. I expect she left it to comfort you because your leg is hurt.”

“Ah.” He turned the floppy toy over in his hands. “That was very kind of her.”

“She’s a very compassionate little girl,” said Hannah. “Though rather shy.” He laughed with her.

“I think she must have learned it from her mother,” he said. “The compassion, that is, not the reserve. I haven’t properly thanked you for taking me in, nor apologized for my behavior.”

“I understand. The pain must have been terrible.”

He shrugged. “What will you do at your father’s house?”

Hannah put a dog-eared periodical into her box. It was two years old, but Molly had overturned a bottle of ink and printed her little hands all over it Hannah expected she would keep it the rest of her life. “Admirable fortitude. Dr. March said the break was clean, but awkward. You don’t want to be left with a limp.”

“It wouldn’t matter,” he muttered, staring into the fire with hooded eyes. “A limp, a missing limb, it would all be the same.” Hannah sensed that he wasn’t speaking to her, and tactfully concentrated on her packing. After a moment, he shook his head. “Why didn’t you answer my question?”

She quirked a brow. “Are you accustomed to getting an answer to every question?”

“I? No. But I would like to know the answer to that one.”

Hannah sighed. “Well, the sad truth is, I’ve no idea. I have no other place to go. Jamie has four children of his own, Tom has three, and Luke and Willy still live with our father and his new wife. I don’t mind so much for myself, but Molly…” Her voice tailed off. “I didn’t want to raise my child under someone else’s roof,” she finished.

The firelight threw flickering shadows around him, illuminating the planes of his face, his hair black as night. He wore a blue silk dressing robe over his shirt and trousers, and the rich fabric glowed like a jewel. “You could marry again,”‘ he said in a quiet voice.

Hannah sighed again, but with a wry smile. “An excellent idea. I would cull my list of suitors, if I had any.”

“I meant it seriously.”‘ Hannah threw him a reproving look.

“I didn’t question the merit of the idea, only the practicality.”

He was quiet for a long time, and Hannah went back to her sorting. A gardening almanac made the box, a book of poems did not Her two favorite novels went into the box, handprint-free periodicals did not, nor did another book of poems. Her box was already over half-full, and she was only a third of the way through the shelves. She would probably have to go through the box again, she thought regretfully. If only she had her own cottage…

“You could marry me.”

Hannah dropped the book in her hands. “David— I didn’t—”

“No. It’s a serious offer, and you should seriously consider it.” He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. Hannah met his dark eyes for a long moment

“Thank you, but I couldn’t. We’re barely acquainted.”

“It would solve your problem,” he said as if she hadn’t spoken. “I can support you. I like Molly very much, and would try to be a good father for her. You won’t have to choose which books to keep, and you’ll stay mistress of your own house.”

“There’s more to marriage than being able to support a wife,” Hannah said, almost amused in her disbelief. He nodded.

“I understand. I wouldn’t ask for any other comfort than you’ve already given me.” Hannah cleared her throat and busied herself with the books in front of her, hardly able to believe that she was discussing marriage with a near-stranger.

“Why would you marry me? What do I have to offer you?”

“Salvation, perhaps,” he said. “The goodness in life I’ve been so short of. The moral character I’ve never had.”

“David, I can’t offer you salvation, or goodness,” said Hannah, dismissing the idea with a smile. “You must find those things within yourself. Why do you think you can’t?”

He scratched his chin, thinking. “Because I never have. I’ve never tried, in case you were about to ask, but I can’t even think how I would go about it.”

“It’s different for every person. Depending on someone else to do it for you will only delay the business.”

His mouth crooked in a grin. “I’ve delayed it for thirty-two years.”

“It’s never too late to start.” Hannah reached for another stack of books. “But I’m honored to be asked.”

“I meant it. Perhaps what you say is true, but I’m not withdrawing the offer. I could take care of you. Did you love your husband?”

Startled, Hannah nodded. “
Yes
,” she said in a husky voice.

“He was a lucky man. Do you think you could ever love another?”

Hannah didn’t want to let herself think about it. After Stephen died, she had buried her feelings for him deep in her heart, resolving to be brave and happy for Molly’s sake, and for the most part she had been. But the question caught her off guard. Could she ever feel that way about another man? Stephen was dead. He had once filled her heart, and while she would never forget him, the void was growing every day, and she didn’t know if she should fight it or not. “Perhaps,” she murmured.

“The possibility is all I would ask. I won’t push you.” She said nothing. “I promise the decision would be yours.”

“I couldn’t promise it would ever happen.” Was she possibly considering this? “And I couldn’t accept your offer if I thought it wouldn’t.” That didn’t come out quite the way she had intended. It sounded as if she wanted time to think about it. “I think you should reconsider,” she added gently. “I’m honored by your offer, but you should reserve it for someone you feel something for.”

“I feel something for you,” he said with a sideways look. “Friendship. Respect. Admiration. Do you know how rare it is to find that in another person?” He ran one hand through his hair, looking frustrated. “I could return to London and find the sort of wife my brother would take, someone young and stupid and wealthy. It’s more like buying a horse than choosing a mate. Even if we only remained friends, it would be a better match than most. So consider it.” He reached for his crutch and got to his feet. “Good night.”

Hannah murmured a reply. She sat by the fire for a long time. His last words stuck in her mind. Perhaps it wasn’t just an impulsive offer made out of pity or guilt Even in the country, marriages were often based on more practical concerns than love, and friendship was often a hoped-for state.

He was a handsome man. Hannah couldn’t deny that. With time and familiarity, she could develop an attraction to him. And if he could support them, how much easier things would be. She had divined that his family had money, even if it weren’t in David’s control, and that they would be comfortable.

And she wouldn’t have to live in her father’s house.

Before her marriage, she had filled her mother’s shoes, cleaning and cooking and washing for her father and brothers. Now she was used to being much more, the head of her own small household. In her father’s house, she would be little more than a poor relation, and an unwanted one at that. Now that her father had remarried, he didn’t even need the labor she would provide, and saw only the burden she and Molly would be on him. Hannah didn’t doubt that life in his house would be rather grim.

But she knew too little about David. It wasn’t just her own future she was deciding, it was Molly’s as well, and she couldn’t put that responsibility into the hands of someone she had known only a fortnight. Hannah got to her feet and dusted off her skirt. She would finish the packing tomorrow, after she told David she couldn’t consider his offer.

It was hard to forget it, though, especially when she tried once more to refuse and David refused to listen. He waved aside all her objections, promised it would be a marriage of convenience, and urged her to consider it a while.

So the next time Sarah stopped in, Hannah sent Molly into the garden and pulled her sister-in-law into the kitchen. She might be losing her mind, but David’s suggestion was taking root, sounding better and better. Better than her alternatives, anyway. Hopefully Sarah would be able to bring her back to earth.

But Sarah didn’t “Now, that’s a thought,” was her first comment. Hannah stared at her in shock.

“But an impractical, foolish thought, right?”

Sarah pursed her lips. Outside the window, Molly was rooting stones out of the garden with a sharp stick, chattering away in her high, sweet voice to

David, who sat on a bench in the sun, his healing leg propped on a nearby rock. “What are your choices?”

Hannah looked down. “You know as well as I do.”

“Isn’t this choice more attractive?” When Hannah didn’t reply, Sarah took her hand, leaning across the table. “You know it is. Remarrying would be the best solution to your problems. Mind, I hoped you’d marry someone nearer Middleborough. You must write me, when you’re a grand lady in London.” She grinned, letting go of Hannah’s hand to reach for the teapot. “Yes, I think you ought to consider it.”

Hannah chewed her lip and looked out the window. Molly was now ferrying the stones across the garden to David’s side. Each time she brought him a new one, David took it and examined it gravely. He said something and held up one stone, and Molly dissolved in giggles. Hannah’s heart swelled as she watched her daughter take the rock from David’s large, elegant hand with her grubby little fingers. David listened attentively to whatever Molly was saying, nodded, then gently placed the rock back with the others. He was very patient with Molly. Could he be a good father? “Can I risk it?” she murmured.

“Can you not risk it?” Sarah asked meaningfully.

Hannah sighed, dropping her face in her hands. She knew what Sarah meant; if she refused David, she might never have another offer. She certainly wouldn’t meet many eligible men out on her father’s farm. Nor would Molly, when she was old enough. David’s offer meant a world of difference to Molly as well as to Hannah herself.
Could
she pass it up?

“Perhaps Jamie ought to talk to him,” Sarah suggested. “Just to see how sensible his offer is.”

Hannah took a deep breath, and nodded. Jamie wouldn’t hesitate to tell her if he thought it was a mistake, but he also knew how reluctant she was to return to their father’s farm. Sarah promised to send him, and left.

That night Hannah watched David closely. He held Molly enraptured with a fanciful story after dinner, and Hannah didn’t miss how happily Molly bade him good-night. Perhaps marrying David wasn’t so farfetched. Perhaps it would be the answer to her prayers. Perhaps he would be a good father, and a good husband, and keep her in comfort the rest of her days. When Jamie rode over the next day and closed himself in the parlor with David, Hannah almost held her breadi, waiting.

Footsteps made her look up. “Come with me,” grunted Jamie, tramping through the kitchen. Heart in her throat, Hannah put down the basket of shelled peas and hurried after him.

Her brother was adjusting his saddle. “He’s pledged to take care of you,” he muttered. “Got enough of his own money to support a family. He promised to deed a small country house of his to me in trust for Molly, so you’ll have a place to go if… well, just in case. Guess you’d be a lady, Han.”