A Reluctant Melody - Will she risk losing everything … including her heart?

by Ardoin, Sandra

  When he spotted her and winked, she turned away from the window, pinched her cheeks, and met him at the door. His wide-eyed inspection was all she needed to be assured the new silk dress, a blue to match his eyes and trimmed with a white lace jabot, secured his approval.

  He shut the door on the neighbors’ curiosity before taking her in his arms. “You look beautiful. Will you marry me?”

  Joanna’s low chuckle tickled her throat. “That’s the fourth time you’ve asked in as many days. What answer have I given you each time?”

  Despite the persistent discomfort of bruised ribs, he clutched her tighter. “This.”

  His kiss left her winded. She leaned back in his arms. “My goodness, I’m articulate.”

  “Why do you think I keep repeating my proposal?” The lightheartedness encircling them ebbed. “You’ve never given me a firm answer, Jo.”

  What stopped her from shouting to the rooftop, “Yes, I’ll marry you,” as she longed to do? “We have a reception to attend. If we don’t leave now, we’ll be late.”

  Kit’s parted lips signaled a desire to argue. Instead, he closed his mouth and led her down the path to the carriage. The more distance they covered, the greater was Joanna’s impulse to turn and run back to the safety of her home.

  Kit drove while she sat with her hands in her lap, her fingers dancing to an imaginative rhythm. “How did this morning’s tour go?”

  “The mayor, most of the aldermen, the constable, and the justice of the peace still support us. However, I think Sheriff Myers has his doubts. Cox’s absence didn’t help. He suspects Howard helped Liam commit the burglaries, but he has no evidence.”

  “At least Mr. O’Connor has stayed.”

  “He’s played an important role in our lives, hasn’t he?”

  It was a role the fighter admitted to Kit and Joanna after Perry’s arrest. Mr. O’Connor knew the depth of Liam’s hostility toward Joanna and didn’t trust Rose’s husband. He sought a job at the House once he learned Liam had done the same. He assumed Liam meant to cause trouble for two people who had shown him a kindness, so he assigned himself the task of watchman. The job gave him reason to stop drinking. Joanna prayed he never returned to it.

  “I hesitate to think what could have happened to you, Jo—to both of us—if he hadn’t arrived when he did.”

  Joanna’s mind reeled with each mention of the tragedy. The image of Perry lying broken on the floor still haunted her. What distressed her more was his expected fate once he healed and the trial commenced. “How did I not see what Perry was capable of?”

  “He was your friend.” Kit guided the horse around a corner. “Myers located the detectives Perry used to gather information about me. Once he had what he sought, he sent that letter hoping to drive me back to Pennsylvania. It might have worked if I didn’t love you so much.”

  She twisted to face Kit and broach the subject she had avoided until now. “Mrs. Brockhurst is satisfied you had nothing to do with Liam’s crimes, but we both know Perry’s confession won’t be adequate in persuading others I’m innocent of Clayton’s death. The question will always remain in their minds. I don’t want that to affect your work.”

  Kit covered her hand with his. “I don’t care what others think, and if anyone upsets you this afternoon, let me know. We’ll leave.”

  She would never do that. This afternoon meant too much to him.

  A maid greeted them at the Brockhurst door. She ushered them into a drawing room filled with plush chairs and tables in rich woods, whatnots with various items of interest, ferns and palms on plant stands. Tassels hung from heavy velvet drapery, and paintings dangled on wires from walls papered in a bold tulip design. Joanna’s gaze lingered an extra moment on the upright piano along the far wall.

  As they were announced, conversation withered among the eight guests already present in the room. Four men and four women turned to stare at Kit and Joanna. Mrs. Brockhurst crossed the floral carpet to greet them. “Good afternoon, Christopher.”

  Kit bowed to their hostess. “Good afternoon. I believe you know Mrs. Stewart.”

  The slender woman neither smiled nor scowled, but reached out with her hand. “Welcome to my home, Mrs. Stewart.”

  Joanna eyed the gesture a moment before accepting the handshake. “Thank you for the invitation.”

  Further introductions established the identities of the remaining patrons of the Spencer Brockhurst House. More guests arrived until the room filled with potential supporters. The last to be announced were the Weedons and David Murray and his wife.

  A short time later, Kit drifted away in conversation with a number of the men, leaving Joanna on the periphery of a group of women. Determined not to be cowed by a glower from Mr. Murray, she met his gaze until he turned away.

  Mrs. Chandler, a boisterous woman in both manner and dress, stepped between them. “What a shocking experience, Mrs. Stewart.” The woman’s eyes lit with excitement. “I understand one of the men taught you several moves that saved you.”

  In the twelve days since the incident at the broom factory, Banesville had buzzed with the news of Perry’s arrest and the manner in which it happened.

  “I’ll always be indebted to Mr. O’Connor for his help.” It was as far as she’d publicly venture into the private man’s role.

  “Mercy sakes, after all that’s happened it is obvious we are no longer a sleepy town and should prepare ourselves for the unexpected.” Mrs. Chandler inched closer. “Do you think Mr. O’Connor would consent to teach me the same techniques he taught you?”

  What had she gotten the poor man into?

  At Mrs. Chandler’s question, four of the women encircled Joanna, their curiosities raised. Several others stood to the side and glared at her with disdain.

  Joanna imagined the battle-scarred fighter’s crotchety reaction to Mrs. Chandler’s request and smiled. Now that he had no more incentive to watch over her, he needed another purpose. “I think it’s a splendid idea.”

  She followed the ones who had befriended her to the table in the dining room where they helped themselves to dainty sandwiches and desserts. David Murray sidled up to her, and she almost dropped her plate.

  He sipped from a glass filled with sweet punch, then whispered, “It looks as if your exploits have won over a number of foolish ladies. What will they think of your association with a young woman who recently gave birth out of wedlock?”

  As she stared at him, Joanna’s heart tripped at the truth behind his question—the truth about Darcy’s baby. Her encounter with this spineless, married man strengthened her belief in the call to help other unfortunate women like the one he nearly destroyed. “None of our private deeds escape God’s notice, Mr. Murray, and His mercy isn’t dependent on your opinion or mine.”

  Mrs. Brockhurst interrupted the ensuing silence between them with a tap on Joanna’s shoulder. “Mrs. Stewart, Christopher raves about your talent on the piano. Perhaps you’ll favor us with a song?”

  Joanna glanced at Kit, who nodded his encouragement. “I’d be honored.”

  As she wound through the crowd on her way to the piano, Joanna held her head high and smiled inside. There were those who would never find her worthy, but it was time she stopped letting them run her future.

  She placed her fingers on the keys. After a moment’s reluctance, the room overflowed with the strains of “Let Me Dream Again.”

  Kit leaned against the piano, and a deep-seated eagerness inside her burst free. “Yes.”

  His brow furrowed, and he bent closer. “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

  Kit’s burning gaze spoke every word Joanna had ever longed to hear from him.

  She need never dream of love again, for it was hers.

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