Wondering what details Lavonia knew, he decided on a neutral response. “So that is what you heard?”
A nod was her only answer.
“The rumors must not have frightened you very gravely. You are here with me today.”
“As you delight in reminding me, I cannot afford to be frightened if I plan to pursue a career on the mission field.”
He waited, wondering whether she would admonish, judge, confront, or query him about his past. Or perhaps she would do all of those things. Mindlessly, he poured himself another glass of cider and held it, pretending to be absorbed in the bark of a nearby pine tree. Finally, when her silence lengthened and he was certain Lavonia had no plans to search him for answers, William breathed a sigh of relief. “Well,” he finally said, “I am glad we got that unpleasantness out of the way.” Lifting his goblet in her direction, he gave her a nod before finishing his liquid refreshment.
“So am I.”
Relaxed for the first time since the topic of his past indiscretions had been raised, William focused on the loveliness of the one who shared his meal. He stared at her profile as she concentrated on a windblown tuft of grass. He couldn’t help but think her portrait would make the perfect cameo brooch, raised in ivory, set on a background of blue. Her dark curls, flawless in their coiffure, her straight nose, and lips that protruded just enough to add interest, formed a beautiful silhouette.
Her lips moved, breaking the image he had in his mind’s eye. She didn’t look at him as she added, “But that is not all.”
He felt his stomach do a somersault. “That is not all? Whatever do you mean?”
“I heard something else.” She looked him full in the face. “Is it true you grew up in an orphanage?”
He averted his eyes. “It is true.” He realized his voice was more abrupt than he meant it to be.
“That must have been a dreadful experience.”
Encouraged by her sympathetic tone, he looked up at her. Rather than seeming shocked or judgmental, Lavonia’s face was soft with compassion. He held his gaze upon her for a moment, not ready to answer.
“Tell me, what was it like?”
Too busy now living his life and pursuing his art and medical studies, William seldom dwelt on the past and had not thought about the orphanage in years. Lavonia’s inquiry brought back a deluge of memories. He recalled Christmases fortified with gifts donated by the wealthy, some well-meaning, but most wanting to purchase freedom from the guilty knowledge that their own fortunes allowed themselves lives of luxury. Wealthy people who forgot about the orphans the rest of the year, as if the stomachs of parentless children growled with hunger only on Christmas day.
With few exceptions, the boys living in the home fended for themselves. Vegetable gardens were planted each season to assure a winter stock of food. Cows were milked. Chickens were fed. Nothing was wasted. Not food, and certainly not the cast-off clothing that was usually worn by several of the boys before one of the matrons finally declared it too ragged to be of further use.
He remembered the other orphans. Some were lucky enough to be adopted. Others, not so lucky, died before they reached adulthood. Still others, like William, were never rescued from the boy’s home because they were too old, too frail, or not cherubic enough in manner or appearance to win the affections of prospective parents.
Finally, he spoke. “Do you wish to work with orphans, Miss Penn?”
She seemed surprised by his question. “Why, I had not given that prospect much thought.”
“Then there is no need for me to dwell on the details. I am just grateful I did not end up as a street urchin. And I am thankful that my circumstances, though undesirable, did secure me a benefactor in later years.”
“So no one ever showed any interest in adopting you.” A quizzical expression indicated Lavonia had trouble believing her own observation.
“No.” Encouraged by Lavonia’s prodding, he continued, “They say I was a thin and sickly infant, and colicky, as well. My frailty and constant crying were apparently enough to keep even the most determined adoptive parents from taking a chance on me. By the time I outgrew my maladies and developed enough muscle to assure my continued health, I was too old to attract any attention.”
“How awful.”
William shrugged. “It seemed awful at the time, but it was my sicknesses that encouraged my interest in medicine. You see, I want to help others who are like I once was. And it was my desire to pursue medicine that brought me to my benefactor.”
“Philemon Midas.”
He nodded.
“Tell me, how did he find out about you?”
“Apparently, someone at the orphanage told him about my ambitions and he thought me worthy enough to secure his help. He became my benefactor when I was in my teen years, which assured my schooling was sufficient to prepare me for higher education. Later, his sterling support provided me with an education at Oxford.”
“So he helped you all those years, and you never discovered anything about him, other than his name and the fact that he lived in Dover?” she asked.
“Regrettably, no.”
“Were you never curious enough to try to meet him in person?”
“Certainly,” he responded. “If for no other reason, I wanted to thank him. Of course, I wrote him many letters of gratitude, and I made certain to keep him apprised about my progress in my studies, but writing those letters could never replace seeing him, even if only to shake his hand.”
“But the letters. Did he not send you any correspondence in return?”
“Once, upon my graduation from Oxford. I cherish that letter more than any other material possession I own.” Then he remembered the ring that had been his mother’s. “Almost.” Ignoring Lavonia’s puzzled expression, he continued, “After graduation, my interest in him intensified. Perhaps because of the letter.”
“No doubt.”
He stared into her blue eyes, so sympathetic he couldn’t resist them. “Miss Penn, would you mind terribly if I shared a confidence with you?”
“Not at all.”
“I know this will sound ludicrous, but remember, I was young.” He took a breath. “During that time, I burned with the desire to meet this man. I even fantasized that Philemon Midas could be my father.” Afraid she would laugh at his silly illusion, he cast his gaze away from her face to the corner of the tablecloth.
“There is no shame in your dream. For why would you not wish to find your own father?” She placed a gentle hand on top of his. “Perhaps Philemon Midas is your father?”
“No. One of the matrons at the orphanage took pity on me when she learned of my fantasy. She showed me a letter from my father.”
Lavonia gasped. “But I thought no one knew.”
“No one did, for many years. But the letter arrived soon after I had left the orphanage. He wrote it on his deathbed, apparently in a fit of conscience for having lived a life of ease abroad while I was left to fend for myself.”
“He should have felt guilty for not taking responsibility for you.” Anger was evident on her face. “Why did he not?”
“His letter said he wanted to be a father. And he wanted to marry my mother.”
“So they really were in love?”
“I believe they were. Certainly they were too young to consider money and position over their feelings for each other. But when my grandfather discovered she was merely a chamber maid, he sent my father abroad and dismissed her from his employ. They never saw each other again. She died shortly after my birth.”
Tears misted Lavonia’s eyes. “If only she could have seen what a fine gentleman you are now.”
“A fine gentleman? The stock of an idle, irresponsible man of the world and an impoverished domestic servant?” William laughed, bitterness coloring every note. With his fingertips, he gently guided Lavonia’s delicate chin in his direction, forcing her to look him full in the face. “The gentleman you see before you, Miss Penn, would not even gain admittance into t
he humblest home if not for his ability to heal. And he undoubtedly would be spurned from the homes of the wealthy, except for his ability to paint portraits.” Taking his fingers from her face, he rose to his feet and stood before her. “Your cousin is right, Miss Penn. I am not worthy of you.”
“I care not what anyone else thinks.” Lavonia stood up, her eyes meeting his. Her voice was filled with so much conviction, he almost believed her.
“Perhaps you do not, but Helen does. And when all is said and done, that is all that matters.” His heart ached at the thought that their rendezvous had been a mistake, that he had been a fool to think himself worthy of her. For Lavonia’s sake, he knew he must offer her no further encouragement. He tilted his head in General’s direction. “Get into the carriage. I shall take you home.”
Certain his abrupt manner had convinced Lavonia to submit without protest, William turned his back toward her and tossed the remains of the picnic into the basket. He turned to leave, but to his astonishment, she had not moved. He kept his voice authoritative. “Get in the carriage, I tell you.”
“I will not.” She planted her feet on the ground for emphasis.
“While your fiery performances are not without a degree of charm, I am in no humor to witness a tantrum today. You will get in the carriage, even if I must carry you.” He let the basket and blanket drop to the ground to prove he was serious.
Lavonia’s response was to lift her chin an inch higher.
“All right, if you insist.” William strode toward her and lifted her light form in his arms. She pounded her fists into his chest with amazing strength and squirmed to be released. By force of will, he ignored the blows and carried her toward the carriage.
“Let me go!”
“I told you I would carry you if I must.” Complying with her demand, he set her feet on the grass beside the carriage. “That should prove I am serious.”
“So it shall.” Sparks of rage flew from her eyes. “And this shall prove you are worthy of me!”
Before William knew what was happening, Lavonia wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him firmly on the lips.
thirteen
William’s lips were unexpectedly soft, but as he returned Lavonia’s kiss, his strong body, so near to hers, left no doubt he was a man. “William,” she breathed.
At the sound of his name, he responded by pulling her closer to him. “Lavonia.”
Never had her name sounded so sweet! Every part of her wanted to melt in his embrace, but she knew she had to tear herself away from him. Against her will, she pressed a hand against his chest and pushed. Taken by surprise, he stepped back from her.
“What was that?” he asked.
“Exactly what I said. Proof that you are worthy of me.” Though she was trying to keep her voice casual, she couldn’t keep from straightening her bonnet, sweeping the sides of her dark chignon, pulling her lightweight shawl around her shoulders, and running her hands over her waist and hips to smooth the flowing skirt on her empire-style dress. Her heart was racing.
“A modest assessment of yourself, indeed.” His violet eyes sparkled with mischief. “I hope this is not the way you prove your point to every man you meet.”
His teasing had not been the reaction she had expected, or wanted. Feeling a surge of vexation, she shot him a withering look. “If that is what you think, then you can follow through with your original plan to take me home.” She had one foot in midair before a better idea occurred to her. “Come to think of it, I shall walk home.”
Though she nodded curtly in his direction to signal her determination, her plan was thwarted when William picked her up and set her back into place in his carriage. “No lady who accompanies me to a worship service shall journey home alone. You shall stay there, Miss Penn.”
His voice was firm enough to whip Lavonia into submission. Not that she had been eager to walk home in her Sun-day dress shoes, on any account. Averting her eyes to focus on anything but him, she noticed the picnic basket still on the ground. “Certainly a fine gentleman such as yourself,” she said, allowing sarcasm not previously present to color her voice, “should desire to return the items he secretly ‘borrowed’ from his landlady.”
A contrite look crossed his face. Retrieving the basket in haste, he tossed it into the carriage. His eyes never left her as he untied General from the tree.
“You are so watchful,” she noted. “Do you think I plan to escape?”
“Perhaps.” Taking his place beside her, he noted, “You are a bit imprПvisible, oui?”
Lavonia felt her cheeks flush when he spoke the truth. She had indeed acted on impulse by kissing him.
Without warning, he placed his hand upon hers. “One of your finer qualities, I must say.”
She jerked her hand from his grasp. “Stop mocking me!”
“I am not mocking you.” He looked at her full in the face. “I am truly sorry I offended you just now, and with my jesting earlier. I confess, your—emotion—astonished me greatly. I am afraid I did not respond in the proper manner, as the gentleman you claim me to be would have.”
He clicked his tongue as a signal for General to begin his trot home.
“And how would a gentleman have responded?”
“With shock, I suppose.”
Lavonia remembered the astonished look on his face. “If that is so, then you are indeed a gentleman.”
“Is that your only evidence?”
Though taken aback by his inquiry, Lavonia could see by his serious expression that William sought an honest answer. She thought for a moment. “You were born of a nobleman.”
“But, I am sorry to say, he was no gentleman.”
“Well then, despite what you say about your checkered reputation, during the times we have been together, your behavior has always been quite exemplary. Indeed, I believe you have overcome your past.”
“Do you?” He seemed surprised.
“Yes. If you had not, would you have taken me to a church meeting today?” Before he could answer her question, Lavonia continued, “I must confess, ever since we worshiped together, one question has burned in my mind. Might I ask how you came to accept the Lord as your Savior?”
“My story is long. Do you really wish to know?”
“Yes. And in any event, am I not a bit of a captive audience?” She flashed him a teasing smile.
“Captive or not, I shall spare you a verbal tome by giving you the condensed version. It began with the dear matrons who ran the orphanage. They had adopted the Methodist faith, and part of their mission was to teach it to us boys.” He rolled his eyes. “Although I must say, at times that seemed their only mission.”
Lavonia giggled.
“It pains me to admit this now. But even though I was a professing Christian, in reality I rebelled against their strict rules. By the time I left the orphanage, I had abandoned the idea of coming to a saving knowledge of Christ.”
“So what made you change your mind?”
“One afternoon when I was visiting a patient, a bull broke out of his fence, chased me, knocked me to the ground, and stomped my leg.”
The image made Lavonia cringe. “How dreadful!”
“Indeed. The attending physician was certain my leg would become infected with gangrene and would need to be amputated, and I agreed with his diagnosis. I was devastated. At the time, I would have preferred death over losing my leg. Perhaps that is why I refused to give up. I did what I had learned as a child to do in desperate times. I prayed to the Lord.”
Lavonia glanced at William’s legs. Even underneath his breeches, anyone could see they were in fine form. “Obviously, He answered your prayer.”
“I admit, I was surprised. The Lord and I were not on the best of terms, thanks to my neglect of Him. But He was merciful. He gave me a second chance, and I knew it. I wanted to do something to thank Him.”
“What did you do?” she prodded.
“I resolved to read the whole of Scripture.”
&nbs
p; His answer was a disappointment. “An admirable goal, but something certainly any Christian should do.”
“Yes, but it was not so easy for me. I was a busy man, doing important work. Or so I thought. I was not willing to relinquish time I could be visiting patients or painting, so I gave up my Friday evening card games.”
“Cards! William, how could you?”
“To the unsaved, such trivial pursuits seem merely a pleasant diversion, not a dire sin.” He gave her an inquiring look. “Did you not give up any vice when you accepted the Lord?”
Lavonia remained silent.
“Certainly women of your station are not customarily given to strong drink or card playing, but perhaps there was a vexing habit the Lord helped you conquer?”
“I am afraid I have no colorful account to share. My testimony is that of a sheltered girl who grew up, always under the guidance of devout parents, within the Christian faith.” She looked at her feet. “Although I have been asking the Holy Spirit to help me with my impulsiveness.”
“Give Him time.” William chuckled.
Her spontaneous kiss too fresh in her mind, Lavonia was eager to divert the attention back to William. “Did you read the entire Word of God?”
“Yes, much to my surprise. I was certain I would be bored with it. The idea of studying ancient laws and learning all about rules I had little desire to obey held limited appeal for me. But when I began delving into the teachings of Jesus, I was drawn to their wisdom. There was no turning back. I read diligently, in every spare moment. Once I had read the Bible from cover to cover, I was committed to the Lord not just because He had saved my leg, but because through His Word, He had entered my heart.”
“What a beautiful testimony, William. Thank you for sharing it with me.” Her voice soft, this time it was she who placed her hand upon his. Though hers was now covered in the kidskin she wore on Sundays and his was gloved in leather suitable for driving, the warmth of his hand penetrated hers.
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