by Lori Wick
“Your man came on Monday, Mr Weston, and repaired the roof. Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome. How did it turn out?” he asked, even though he’d ridden past it very slowly in order to inspect the job.
“It’s perfect. I don’t think it will ever leak again.”
“I’m glad to hear that, but should you find yourself with more drips, do let me know.”
“Thank you.”
Weston realized that she hadn’t agreed, only thanked him, and for a moment he held her eyes with his own.
“You’ll inform me?”
Unable to look away but not wanting to commit, Anne took in his expectantly raised brows and nodded.
Weston smiled at her, and Anne felt her face heat. The dishes were being passed and she had an excuse not to look at anyone while she served herself from the platter, but she couldn’t help but wonder if this might not prove to be a very long afternoon.
Brown Manor
“I’m leaving for London in the morning,” Weston told Mansfield when he arrived home.
“Very well, sir.”
“Keep things going on the conservatory, but if something is delayed, don’t worry about it. I’ll be home within the week.”
“Yes, sir.”
Mansfield had no questions and soon left his employer in peace, something Weston welcomed. He’d had a delightful time at the manse, not just with the five families that were there, but with Anne as well—most especially Anne. She had been somewhat shy whenever she realized he was near, but there were plenty of opportunities to observe her interacting with the others and to see for himself that she was quite genuinely loving and sweet.
Not that this surprised Weston. It did, however, make him thoughtful. He felt a need to visit with his mother and decided to stay with his decision to visit her that week, but Anne lingered on his mind for the remainder of the day and even as he journeyed to London.
Levens Crossing
Anne sat alone in the kitchen, looking at the gifts she’d received, her heart melting in pleasure all over again. She couldn’t remember when she’d had such a special birthday. Each and every person had taken time to speak with her and wish her a happy day.
Anne reached for the lovely handkerchiefs Mr Weston had given her. He had been as kind as everyone else, but Anne couldn’t help but notice his gaze had been rather watchful.
Anne was not a person to daydream, but in truth she did find Mr Weston most interesting. She didn’t indulge in any type of fantasy where he was concerned, but he lingered in the back of her mind until her father came looking for something to eat.
London
“Did I ever tell you that Henrietta came to see me at Brown Manor?”
Lenore Weston, who had been arranging flowers in a vase in the drawing room, stopped and turned her head to study her only child where he sat on the sofa, legs stretched out in front of him, relaxed as a lazy cat.
“I don’t believe you did.”
Weston had nothing more to say, and Lenore deserted her flowers. Something was on her son’s mind, and she hoped to learn what it was.
“Did she stay long?”
“No, very briefly. It was most uncomfortable.”
“Do you wish she had?”
“Lingered? No.”
Silence fell again. Lenore was intent on Weston, but Weston’s mind was clearly elsewhere.
“Do you wish to find love again, Robert?”
Weston smiled as he looked at her.
“I think it might be overrated.”
Lenore felt a deep pain around her heart on this announcement but didn’t give herself away.
“I saw Anne on Sunday,” Robert volunteered.
“How is she?”
“I think well. It was her birthday.”
“Was there a party?”
“Yes. I was invited.”
“So the two of you are getting close?”
Robert laughed. “Not exactly.”
“What does that mean?”
“She’s still quite shy in my presence.”
“I can understand that. She’s probably still embarrassed.”
“Probably.”
Lenore let the silence linger this time, determined that Weston would be the first to speak. When he did, Lenore was glad she was sitting down. Without a sound she listened to his words, not disagreeing, but finding she needed some moments to adjust.
“Come back with me,” Weston finally invited. “You’re overdue for your visit to Brown Manor as it is.”
“You’re certainly right about that,” Lenore agreed, suddenly wanting to visit very much.
“So you’ll come?”
“Yes.”
Weston looked pleased.
“Have you spoken to Pastor Hurst about your plans?”
“Not yet. I’ll do that soon.”
Lenore nodded and then smiled at him.
“What’s that smile for?”
“I just realized how much I like you, Robert Weston, and that makes me smile.”
Weston laughed at her discovery and leaned over to kiss her cheek.
“Let’s hope I’m as well liked in Collingbourne, shall we?”
“We shall!” Lenore agreed, and the two of them talked of nothing special but covered many topics for the rest of the afternoon.
Tipton
Lydia smiled down at her youngest child. Three-week-old Oliver didn’t notice. His brow was lowered with some inner concentration his mother found adorable. She lifted him close to her face for a kiss, thinking he was the loveliest miracle she’d ever seen.
A knock at the door brought her attention around as Judith put her head in long enough to make an announcement.
“Miss Gardiner is here.”
“I’ll be right there, Judith.”
Knowing that Anne would wish to see the baby, Lydia took Oliver with her and met Anne in the salon.
“How are you?” Anne said, reaching for the baby and snuggling him close.
“I’m doing well. A bit sore suddenly, but nothing abnormal.”
“And how is this little man? He’s so rosy and pink.”
Lydia laughed. “Palmer accused me of secretly wanting a girl, and now we’ve been blessed with a child who’s pretty enough to be one.”
“Did you want a girl?” Anne asked astutely.
“Part of me did, for Lizzy’s sake, but she’s so delighted with Oliver that I can see it didn’t matter.”
Anne rocked the baby for a moment while Lydia studied her.
“Did you enjoy your birthday?”
“Very much. I’m still getting over the surprise of it all.”
“Were you terribly embarrassed over Mr Weston’s appearance?”
“At first,” Anne admitted. “I felt somewhat conscious of him the entire time, but he’s so gracious and kind that it wasn’t all bad.”
“Maybe it’s the fact that he’s gracious and kind that draws you to him.”
Anne nodded. “He’s quite the gentleman.”
Lydia was tempted to question her more but held off. Much as she wished to know Anne’s true feelings concerning Mr Weston, Lydia knew it was not her place to ask.
“How is the Colonel?” the older woman asked instead, changing the subject.
“Much the same.”
“How do you keep from growing discouraged, Anne?”
“Some days I don’t, but on days when I’m thinking well of the situation, I keep reminding myself that God is in control and that He loves my father and me very much.
“Please don’t misunderstand me, Lydia. Life is not easy, but we never go without. I don’t have a parent I can confide in, but I have many people who are available for me. Mine is an easy situation to pity, but pity is not necessary. I think that it’s easy to look at someone else’s situation—a more painful situation—and somehow comfort ourselves in that. But should we be looking any further than eternity?”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” Lydia h
ad to admit.
“My father isn’t well, but I have eternal life,” Anne explained. “I have to walk most places even when I’m tired or hot, but I have eternal life. We don’t live in a beautiful home any longer, and we’ve lost our estate, but I have eternal life. If I view my situation by just looking at my own life, I do better than if I start comparing it to someone else’s in order to find comfort or something to be thankful for.”
Lydia thanked her for the reminder. She had asked about her father, thinking it might do Anne some good to talk about him, and it turned out she had been the one to hear something she needed. Often busy with five children, Lydia was at times tempted to feel sorry for herself. Not many days ago she had done just as Anne cautioned against, reminding herself that things could be worse. It was far better to find joy and peace in all that God had already given her.
The women had a nice, long visit, and that was fine with Lydia, but as soon as Anne left, she knew she had some confessing and soul-searching to do. She found some solitude and took care of it as fast as she could.
Brown Manor
“Robert!” his mother exclaimed for the fifth time, her eyes huge with delight as she took in her son’s home for the first time. It had been years since Lenore had been inside Brown Manor, but her joy stemmed from more than that. Her son had made it a home. It was warm and welcoming, and she couldn’t have been happier as he gave her a tour.
Weston was very pleased by his mother’s reaction. He was delighted with the outcome as well, but it was doubly rewarding to have his mother’s approval.
“Come outside with me now,” he invited. “I want to check on the conservatory work, and we might as well do that before we clean up from the trip.”
To please her son, Lenore complied. She was dusty and a bit tired, but her first glimpse of the gardens was worth the exertion.
“Oh, Robert, the colors! They’re amazing.”
“Aren’t they, though? I can’t take any credit. The gardens were in fine shape when I arrived. We’ve had only to spruce them up a bit.”
Lenore took in the numerous cobblestone and gravel pathways that crisscrossed their way toward what would obviously be the new conservatory. Lining every path and covering every spare inch of earth were flowers, bushes, shrubs, and plants of every conceivable color, type, and variety. The paths would take the strolling couple through the occasional archway, and each trellis dripped with climbing roses or clematis.
“There’s a kitchen garden around the side there,” Weston pointed as he began to explain the conservatory plans. “I have planned high glass on three sides, and the building itself will be 60 by 100 feet.”
Lenore listened intently, picking the occasional flower and working to take it all in. She was proud of her son—he had grown into a fine young man—but she hadn’t seen him take charge in this way. It pleased her but also gave her pause.
“Shall we go in?” Weston suggested, taking in his mother’s quiet face.
Lenore stopped and turned to him.
“It’s lovely, Robert. I’m so pleased for you.”
Weston smiled. For a moment he couldn’t read her thoughts, but the eyes she turned to him were the ones he knew: kind, warm, and supportive.
The twosome made their way indoors and relaxed for the remainder of the day. The trip from London had been tiring, and both wanted to be fresh for church in the morning.
The Manse
“I’ve disturbed your lunch again, haven’t I, sir?”
“Not at all, Weston,” Pastor Hurst said kindly to the younger man. “Come right in. Did you have a good visit with your mother?”
“Yes.”
“Is she still here?”
“She left Saturday. She had appointments and could only stay a week.”
“Well, how nice for you that she could come. We certainly enjoyed meeting her.”
Weston had no reply to this. Pastor had seen him to a chair and taken one himself but now gave him a few moments to initiate conversation.
“I’ve come seeking your advice today,” Weston began.
“All right.”
“What do you think of my asking Anne Gardiner to be my wife?”
The room was quiet for several heartbeats.
“May I ask you some questions?”
“Certainly.”
“Are you in love with Anne?”
“No, sir, I’m not, but I do care about her.”
“When did this begin?”
“It’s been coming for some weeks now, but my mind really began to move in this direction during her birthday party.”
“Did something happen?”
“Nothing and everything.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know exactly, Pastor, except to say that she’s so unspoiled and sweet. I’ve never known anyone like her. I gave her the handkerchiefs, if you recall. They were nothing special or fancy, but she handled them with such delight and thanked me with great sincerity. I haven’t been able to stop thinking of her.”
“So you feel sorry for her.”
Weston laughed. “Not in the least. She doesn’t invite those types of feelings from anyone, but there is something very vulnerable about her, and I find myself nearly irresistibly drawn.”
There was something more here—Pastor sensed it—but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
“It bothers me that she’s being shunned in town,” Weston continued, his face pained as he looked across at the other man. “I believe that a marriage can be built on mutual respect and caring, and that’s what we would have. If we were to marry, I think her position in town would be restored to her. As my wife, I guess I’m hoping that her reputation would suffer no further.”
“And do you seek a real marriage—a marriage in every sense of the word?”
“Yes. It will certainly take some time to fully know each other, but I believe you would recommend Anne as a fine wife, and I’m hoping you’ll be able to recommend me to Anne.”
“You understand she comes with nothing, no income of any kind?”
“That is the least of my worries.”
“What are you most worried about?”
“That you won’t approve of me for Anne, and that Anne will go on having to pay for my actions on that day. Or that she’ll refuse me and never be comfortable in my presence.”
There’s more than just caring going on here, but he doesn’t even know it. He’s half in love with her and hasn’t a clue.
“In truth, Mr Weston,” Pastor’s thoughts scrambled before he found what he wanted to say, “I would be happy to give my consent. I know Anne very well, and I’ve come to know you over the summer. I find it hard to believe that your love for Jesus Christ and the Word is feigned. However, exactly how Anne will respond to this is yet to be known. I would never push her to do something she does not care to do, not even a little.”
Weston nodded in complete agreement.
“But if you’re quite sincere about this, I would be happy to broach the subject with her.”
Weston came forward in his seat.
“You would talk to her for me, Pastor? At least to begin with?”
“Yes. I don’t mind telling you that Anne’s welfare is often in my prayers. Having you marry and take care of her would certainly ease her situation.”
Weston nodded, but the interview had cost him. He felt very spent just then and out of words.
“Give me a few days, Weston, and I’ll see to the matter.”
“I thank you, sir.”
Pastor Hurst looked him in the eye.
“If Anne agrees to become your wife, I think you will be thankful, Weston. Anne Gardiner is very special. She’s sweet, godly, and kind. The man who wins her affections will be blessed among men.”
It was not what Weston expected to hear, but it did his heart good. He thanked the pastor several more times before leaving, his heart also thanking God that the doors were still open. What the next few days and weeks would
bring, he would have to wait to see.
Chapter Nine
“Mother?” Jane Hurst caught that lady’s hand before she could leave the room.
“You’re stalling, Jane,” Judith said, fighting a smile.
Jane grinned up at her.
“Now, dear, Margaret is already asleep. You do the same.”
“But I did have a question.”
“All right. Ask quickly, and don’t question my answer.”
“Can Mary Clements come to visit tomorrow…maybe spend the day? We spoke of it on Sunday.”
“It will probably work out, but I’ll give you my final answer over breakfast.”
“Thank you.” Jane smiled up at her, and Judith leaned to kiss her once more. A swift check on the boys caused one more delay when five-year-old John complained of being cold, but at last all blankets were in place, everyone was kissed, and she was headed downstairs to find her husband. That that man had something on his mind all through dinner and the evening had been more than clear to her, but they had not been alone so she could question him. Asking didn’t mean she would get an answer, but tonight she was going to try.
“Judith, is that you?”
“Yes, dear,” she answered, following her husband’s voice at the bottom of the stairs and turning into the small salon to find him.
“Please come in. I wish to tell you something.”
Judith was not going to argue with that. She was most eager to hear. Nothing, however, could have prepared her for her husband’s news. Judith sat in stunned silence upon hearing Weston’s request for Anne’s hand. She seemed incapable of speaking or moving.
“I’ve shocked you,” Pastor said at last.
“Yes.”
“Is this the way Anne will react?” he asked.
“Much worse, I’m afraid.”
“And what will her answer be?”