His Impassioned Proposal (The Bridgethorpe Brides)

Home > Nonfiction > His Impassioned Proposal (The Bridgethorpe Brides) > Page 8
His Impassioned Proposal (The Bridgethorpe Brides) Page 8

by Aileen Fish


  Releasing Jane’s arm when they reached the grouping of chairs near the fire, Stephen turned to Lady Marwick. “Forgive me the short notice, my lady, but it occurs to me that you and Sir Perry might wish to join me in visiting Sowerby, where my father shared ownership of several fine mills. I have yet to see these mills myself, and would appreciate the observations of someone such as Sir Perry.”

  Her mother blinked several times, a habit Jane knew meant she was searching for the correct response. “How kind of you to offer. I will check my husband’s schedule.”

  “And perhaps Miss Marwick would care to join us. She tells me she has never seen that part of West Yorkshire.”

  “That is true,” Mama said. “We’ve never had call to visit there. When do you leave?”

  “I had planned my trip to begin in the morning, but that could be postponed a few days if you require more time to prepare.”

  Mama caught Jane’s gaze, still looking uncertain. “I’m certain we can be ready for a short journey by morning, providing Sir Perry has no prior engagements.”

  “Splendid.” Stephen smiled warmly and nodded. He turned toward the fire and raised his hands to the heat.

  Jane rose from her chair. “I will ring for a fresh pot of tea.”

  She needed distance to quell the panic blossoming in her. Why did Stephen wish for her parents to see these mills? He’d said he understood she would consider other gentlemen in her search for a husband. She’d known he’d likely carry an attachment for her for some time, if he had any feelings for her at all.

  No, that was cruel. He had loved her as much as she had him. It had never been spoken, but one knew these things in one’s heart. Of course his feelings for her wouldn’t vanish once she’d rejected his offer.

  Was he planning to renew his offer after they’d been to Sowerby and her parents had seen how successful his mills were? She couldn’t imagine her father would put her future financial stability above her need for love.

  Her heart would have the final say about whom she would marry. And her heart wasn’t certain where her feelings lay.

  Chapter Ten

  Stephen and the Marwicks travelled in Sir Perry’s coach-and-four, as it was more comfortably fitted, and made reasonably good time over the muddy, rutted roads. Sir Perry insisted on a leisurely meal break at midday, not wishing to overtire his wife and daughter, which combined to add a full day of travel time.

  Still, they arrived safely at the inn in Sowerby and after a good night’s sleep, they walked the few short blocks to meet Mr. Carr, Stephen’s uncle.

  Mr. Carr rose from his desk and took Stephen’s hand in both of his, shaking it firmly. “How good it is to see you, my boy.”

  “May I introduce Sir Peregrine Marwick, Lady Marwick and their daughter, Miss Marwick?”

  “Ah, yes, Sir Perry. I believe we met when I was visiting my sister and her husband in ’04.”

  Sir Perry nodded. “Yes, I recall. It would appear I should have taken your investment advice at the time.”

  Mr. Carr motioned for his guests to sit. “There’s still time to reconsider. The machines we’ve installed have increased production satisfactorily. We’ve used some of the profits to build housing, and I have plans drawn up for a kitchen and school. Once the funding is received from our investors, we can take the steps necessary to move forward. I’m hoping to have the school in place in another five years.”

  The two men spoke business for a short time and Stephen paid close attention. He knew nothing of the business, but he wasn’t the type to allow someone else to manage everything while he sat back and watched.

  He kept a covert eye on Jane during the discussion. Her attention was on something outside the windows. He rose and walked toward the sunlight that somehow found its way between the closely set buildings on the narrow street. The hamlet was nestled into the hillsides, overlooking the marshy valley. It was nothing like he had imagined, he had to admit.

  “Why don’t we go have a look at the workroom?” Mr. Carr suggested, calling Stephen’s attention back to the others.

  “Splendid. Will you ladies join us?” Stephen asked.

  “I should love to see where fabric comes from.” Lady Marwick rose and smoothed her skirts. “And you’ll come, also, won’t you Jane?”

  Stephen heard that tone in Lady Marwick’s voice which reminded him of when his mother would pose an order in the form of a question, as if one had the choice of refusing but wouldn’t ever consider doing so.

  “Of course.” Jane stood and tugged her gloves back onto her hands.

  Offering his arm to Jane, Stephen let their elders leave the room first. His heart beat rapidly, not from her nearness, but fear of what she might think of what they were about to see. The workroom couldn’t be so horrid that she’d throw away all their years of friendship. Perhaps he could promise to improve the conditions. Increase the wages of the workers. Shorten the work days.

  The noise of the workers grew louder, equaling the buzzing in his left ear. He was not young and foolish enough to think he could insist on any of those changes. Nor did he believe he could win Jane’s heart by doing so.

  Stephen followed the small group, observing the steam-powered looms in use by the roomful of women. The space was quite warm, but clean, and not the hellish place he was certain Jane had imagined.

  Mr. Carr took them outside, where he pointed out a large building of comparatively recent construction. “The workers and their families will be able to move into the new housing soon.”

  “You mentioned a school. Am I to believe the children receive no schooling now?” Lady Marwick gazed pointedly at Jane, although Stephen wasn’t sure what her message might be.

  “I insist on their having lessons. But we have no formal schoolroom. And few supplies. The vicar comes by daily and works with the children in reading and ciphering.”

  “Did that come about after the labor laws?”

  Mr. Carr hooked his thumbs in the arm openings of his waistcoat. “For some of the mills, it did. ‘Course, some mills ignore the laws. It’s not like the lawmakers come to see if they’re being upheld. But the Carrs felt it was their Christian duty to take care of the families that take care of us, and began to look for ways to make improvements before the reformers got involved.”

  After visiting the mill, their small group returned to the inn. Stephen held Jane back, pretending to study the architecture of the shops. He paused in front of the large window of a milliner. “What do you think?”

  “That hat is quite lovely, I suppose.”

  “No, I meant the mill. Are you still concerned about the people who work there?”

  She pulled her hand free of his arm and hugged herself. “I suppose not. The workroom didn’t appear as wretched as what I have read in the papers.”

  “So there is a chance you might not feel my income is tainted?”

  She flushed and looked away. “I never said that. And there are still the children. Why must they be forced to work?”

  “It is the way of the world, Jane. How else will their families survive?”

  “Perhaps the wages of their parents should be raised so they might afford a living. Children shouldn’t be made to work. They should be allowed to play, grow and learn.”

  Her argument warmed him, which caught him by surprise. “Ah, dearest Jane. If only I had the power to make the world as you wish it. But if King George himself hasn’t the means, what hope do I have?”

  “You don’t have to save them all, but couldn’t you save those in your mills?”

  Offering his elbow again, he steered her toward the inn. “One cannot revolutionize the industry overnight. But you do see how my uncle and my family have attempted some improvements, don’t you?”

  “I suppose.” She walked slowly beside him, a change from her vivacious self.

  “Does it concern you that much? Enough to make you choose another man over me?”

  Jane stopped. “There are many things I must consider i
n choosing a husband.”

  Lifting her chin, he forced her to meet his gaze. “When did this decision become so complicated? Was I gone too long? Did our friendship fade over the years?”

  Her eyes glistened and he longed to pull her to him, but they were on the street where anyone might pass by.

  “Oh, Stephen. I cannot lie. My feelings changed the night you came home.”

  Now it was his turn to hang his head. “Because I offered for you when I was bosky.”

  “No. Well, that was part of it. But there is more. I wish we were at home where we might have some privacy.”

  He searched the street but saw nowhere they could escape without causing her parents to seek them out. “Walk with me.”

  They passed the inn where her parents had entered and continued down the road toward the edge of the town. Stephen slowed to a stroll. “Can you tell me now?”

  Jane took her handkerchief from her reticule and patted her eyes. “I wish I never had to say it. I’ve never told anyone but Mama.”

  “I see this is serious. You know you can count on my discretion.”

  “Yes, I know. But I also know how much what I say will hurt you. But it’s too late to avoid that.” She drew in a shaky breath. “My mother’s sister married a man she loved passionately. She had known him for some time before their betrothal, my mother tells me. But she didn’t know him well enough. You see, when he drank to excess, he became quite mean.”

  Again Stephen regretted his drunkenness, or at least, not waiting until he was in the privacy of his own bedchamber to drown himself as he had. “I understand.”

  “No, that is not all of it. Once, when I was little, I visited them. At night he would yell, and she would cry. I heard him hit her. I saw her bruises.”

  “Jane, surely you know I’d never—”

  She continued on over his protestation. “A year later their son died. He was six. My aunt wrote that he’d fallen from a horse, but they didn’t own horses. At nine years old, I suddenly questioned the bruises Aiden always had. They said he was a clumsy child. That he took after his mother, always getting injured. But I knew, Stephen. I knew…”

  Her voice faded and her tears overtook her. Stephen pulled her into his arms and held her, shushing her fears, absorbing every shudder that wracked her slight body. His heart broke for her. For what she had witnessed, for what she’d imagined had taken place.

  For what he’d awakened when he’d yelled at her in the library at Bridgethorpe Manor.

  His eyes burned. His gut roiled. He would never forgive himself.

  Jane and her mother sat in the small, private sitting room at the inn while Stephen and Sir Perry were again at the mill. Jane wasn’t certain what she had expected of the mill but was pleased to see the children had been clean and didn’t appear to be starved. It still galled her that they began working at such a young age.

  Mama set down her book. “Carr’s Mill is rather unexpected, don’t you think? I had imagined something much darker, dirtier. Mr. Carr seems to truly care for his workers.”

  “I imagine so. Still, the workers toil so many hours and have nothing to show for it.”

  Shaking her head, Mama smiled. “You should have been born a male. You have always wished to change the world.”

  “Have I? I felt content with my lot.” Jane freshened the tea in their cups. “I knew I was expected to marry and raise a family and was quite happy to do so.”

  “Was? Is that no longer your wish?”

  “It is my desire still. Yet, it seems the closer the time comes, the more uncertain I am. My lot in life seems so pointless.”

  “How so? Becoming a wife and mother is a privilege. And I don’t mean we are to be grateful that some gentleman looks upon us and deems us suitable. Being born into a family wealthy enough to assure you will marry well, be able to afford a few servants to clean and cook for you…you are one of the lucky ones. You will not become a spinster, nor will you need to find work.”

  Jane sighed. “I am thankful for all of that. Perhaps what I need is to marry a rich man. Then I might be free to do charitable deeds.”

  “Charity is not simply handing out money to the less fortunate. You are in a position to help in many ways.”

  “If we lived closer to those mills, I might tutor the children.”

  “Are you planning to accept Stephen’s offer, then? Perhaps you could buy a second house near the mill.”

  Straightening in her seat, Jane’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mean that. I wish to get to know him better before I decide.”

  “How much better can you know him without marrying the man? I still believe he is as he appears, a kind, gentle and considerate man.”

  “Perhaps he is.” Jane set her tea cup down with a sigh. “But I cannot let go of that last bit of uncertainty, and until I do, I cannot accept him as my husband.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Two weeks after returning from Sowerby, Stephen was once again traveling, this time to Newmarket. He made the journey alone in his curricle with his groom following on Sir Bedivere, since David had already gone to Fernleigh Stables to work with the Bridgethorpe horses. The Spring Meeting would be held in just a few weeks, opening the season for the Jockey Club.

  While David supervised his grooms mounted on their thoroughbreds, Stephen planned to improve his skill at the reins of the curricle. He was not yet confident enough to accept any challenges, and their corresponding bets, and he was fairly certain he’d be challenged often once he arrived in London for the Season. He was a Lumley, after all, and the family name was quite prominent in racing circles.

  He actually was counting on those challenges to recoup the cost of his investment. Not that he couldn’t afford the expense—he would never put up money he couldn’t afford to lose. Just as he’d never bet money he needed for another purpose, or count on winnings for his necessities.

  The win itself was the point of the race. The money he gained from bets simply made winning taste that much richer.

  After turning over his curricle and team to one of Fernleigh’s grooms, Stephen sought out his cousin. As he expected, David was in the paddocks timing one of his horses.

  “How does he look for the race?”

  “Triton will win it. Don’t waste your money betting on any other horse.” David clapped him on the back in greeting.

  “I’d never bet against a horse from Fernleigh. Unless I had one of my own in the race.”

  “Do you plan to enter Bedivere?”

  Stephen watched the long-legged bay eat up the field with his easy gait. “No. I’m going on to London from here and will want to ride him while I am there.”

  David shrugged. “It’s your call. He might have a few good races left in him.”

  “He hasn’t been training over the winter. I’d more likely do him an injury than win a race.”

  “When does Jane arrive in Town?”

  Folding his arms across his chest, Stephen said, “I don’t know. I didn’t inquire.”

  “How will you call on her? Will she send word when she arrives?”

  “I doubt it. I don’t intend to call on her, nor do I think she wishes me to do so.”

  David turned to face him. “Hannah said you two were getting on better. Didn’t her family travel to Sowerby with you?”

  “They did. And I had a conversation with Jane that convinced me not to renew my offer for her hand.”

  “I am sorry to hear this. Although there was a moment after the night of your return when I hoped you would fail, I was certain you would gain her affections. What keeps her from considering you? Surely not that foolish proposal.”

  “No. At least not directly. But I don’t have her permission to share her concerns, so forgive me if I remain vague.”

  David rubbed a hand over his hair. “I understand. So you will enter the Marriage Market with the rest of the poor saps?”

  “I will. And I am not pleased at the prospect. I do not plan to drag the decision out over
more than one Season.” He glanced at his cousin. “You wouldn’t be able to make any recommendations, would you?”

  Holding his hands up, David stepped back. “I am not about to become involved in any decision as important as that. Ask me about horse flesh and I’ll be quite forthcoming. But you are on your own when choosing a wife.”

  Stephen had to laugh at how pale David appeared. “But you will be there, won’t you, with Hannah?”

  “Don’t remind me. Knightwick has taken on some of Father’s responsibilities with the Bridgethorpe estates, so I will be on hand when he can’t be.”

  “Well then, if we happen to be at the same assembly one evening, perhaps you might see fit to make some introductions.”

  David grimaced. “I’d forgotten you haven’t met the important matrons. If you can wait until after the Spring Meeting, I can spend a few days in London. We’ll make some calls and see that you are invited to a few of the early assemblies.”

  “I am grateful, cousin. A few of the men in my regiment will be in Town, and I will call on them also. Perhaps they have sisters in need of a husband.”

  They grew quiet as Triton passed in front of them. Stephen wished he could spend the Season traveling to the races and put off any decision-making for another year. But the losses he’d seen in the past year had made perfectly clear how brief one’s life could be.

  For the next week, Stephen put his team through their paces on the tracks at Fernleigh. His confidence at the reins was growing. He might not be a winning driver yet, but he could maneuver his way through the crowds in Hyde Park without tossing a young lady off the seat. After putting away his team, he went into the cottage to clean up. He reached the first landing on the staircase before David caught him.

  “There you are, Stephen. Sir Perry arrived about an hour ago and is waiting for you in the study.”

  “Sir Perry? How odd. Did he say why he’d come?”

  “No. He’s in Newmarket for the race, but he didn’t state what business he has with you. As he’s such an old family friend, I didn’t press the matter.”

 

‹ Prev