Brynthwaite Summer_A Silver Foxes of Westminster Novella

by Merry Farmer

  He shook his head, the wistfulness of his expression at odds with the affection in his eyes. “Oh, Aggie. I wish that I had the strength to push you away for your own good. Every time I come close, you say something like that, and I fall even more in love with you.”

  Aggie let out a strangled cry as tears stung her eyes. “You love me too?” she squeaked.

  “How could I not?” he asked. “You make me believe that so many things are possible, even though every step of my life has warned me not to hope. When I’m with you, I find myself wanting to make the world a better place, not for my own ends, but so that you can be happy in it.”

  “We can make the world a better place together,” she insisted. “I know we can.”

  He didn’t agree with her, but he didn’t contradict her either. He merely stood where he was, gazing at her as though they were the only two people in the world.

  “Let me prove it to you,” she went on before he could come to his senses and push her away again.

  “Prove what?” he asked.

  “That it’s not impossible for us to be together. That men like that wretched ice seller are in the minority. That the people of Brynthwaite wouldn’t bat an eyelash at the two of us marrying and making a life together.”

  He tilted his head to the side, doubt in his eyes. “You think you can do that?”

  “I know I can.” She stiffened her back to match her iron-hard resolve. “Just give me the chance.”

  He continued to study her for a few more seconds before asking, “How?”

  Her mind raced. “A picnic,” she said. “In public. Where everyone can see us. Let me treat you to a picnic in a few days’ time. You’ll see that the two of us can sit down and enjoy a meal together, and no one will care at all.”

  He was silent, his eyes narrowing in thought. For a moment, she was certain he was going to turn her down. She held her breath, wavering between hope and preemptive disappointment.

  At last, he let out a breath and said, “All right.” Aggie squealed with delight and jumped up and down. “But I still say we’ll need to be cautious about things.”

  “I will be the soul of discretion,” she said, breathless with excitement and brimming with ideas to prove she was right. “As long as we dine where everyone can see us.”

  He hummed in doubt, but grinned as he did before offering his arm so they could continue their walk.

  “This will be magnificent,” she went on as they stepped back out into the sunlight. “I just know that the people of Brynthwaite will not let us down. You’ll see. There are far more good people in this world than bad.”

  Chapter 4

  Andrew was convinced that it would have been better for everyone if he could put his foot down, keep Aggie at arm’s length, and go about his life without forming unsuitable romantic attachments. But that would never work. In spite of everything, he wore a broad smile as he walked through the door of The Fox and the Lion pub to collect the picnic lunch June Lakes—possibly June Folley now, he still wasn’t sure what the status of June and Ted’s relationship was—had made for him. Aggie was a treasure. He admired her fierce determination to live the life she wanted to live, in spite of what others thought. She had a hard road in front of her and he didn’t think she realized that yet, but while his head told him he should back away in order to make life easier for her, his heart wanted nothing more than to stand by her side.

  “You look cheerful today,” Ted greeted him from behind the bar, where he was tidying up.

  “It’s a beautiful day,” Andrew said, feigning innocence. “The heat has eased up a bit, and the clouds are just large enough to be artistic.”

  Ted laughed and shook his head. “Love makes poets of us all, doesn’t it?”

  “Love?” Andrew fought to keep his grin at bay. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Ted chuckled. “June will be right out with your picnic.”

  “Thanks.” Andrew leaned against the bar to wait. “I still think Aggie is a bit mad for planning this whole thing, but she’s determined to prove her point.”

  “And what point is that?” Ted set his rag aside in favor of conversation.

  For a moment, Andrew hesitated. He wasn’t used to sharing his problems with anyone. But Ted was a good friend, and there was something about using the town barkeep as a sounding-board that appealed to even the most reticent soul.

  He let out a breath, then said, “Aggie reckons the two of us should be together, that the two of us could be together.”

  Ted grinned. “Well, that much is obvious to anyone in town with eyes.”

  Andrew frowned, considering that reply for a moment before going on. “I’m not sure she has the right end of the stick,” he said. “It’s one thing for a bright, energetic, young woman to form a casual friendship with a man like me, but I doubt even a town like Brynthwaite would accept any deeper attachment between the two of us.”

  “Why?” Ted asked with a blink and a shrug. “Because you’re African?”

  Andrew’s brow shot up at the frankness of Ted’s reply. “Exactly. A match like ours is illegal in most parts of the world.”

  “But not in Britain,” Ted argued. “I’ve heard dozens of stories of good, English girls marrying foreign sailors and such.”

  “In coastal towns,” Andrew said. “And most of those women were working class. Aggie is the daughter of one of Brynthwaite’s more prominent businessmen. And Crimpley is thinking of running for mayor.”

  “Not thinking,” Ted corrected him. “He’s already put his name down. I haven’t heard of anyone particularly keen on challenging him, although the election won’t be until the fall.”

  “Regardless,” Andrew went on. “Crimpley let me know just what he thought of me associating with Aggie the other day. He certainly wouldn’t accept any match between us.”

  Ted nodded slowly. “In the colonies,” he went on, almost as though he hadn’t heard Andrew. “English men and women get involved with people from other races all the time. I think I read an article about it recently.”

  “The article couldn’t possibly have approved, though.”

  “No,” Ted admitted. “But if you ask me, by writing about so many examples of couples of different heritages across the Empire, there was a sort of tacit acceptance of the trend.”

  Andrew let out an impatient sigh. Every attempt he made to be sensible and let practicality rule was being undermined by the simple fact that he wanted Aggie, pure and simple. “You’re not making it easier for me to do the right thing,” he said with a wry smile.

  “Who’s to say what the right thing is?” Ted asked. He lowered his voice. “Was it right for me to accept June’s hand in marriage for the price of a bar tab? Maybe not, but it certainly got her out of a terrible situation and into a better life.” Ted’s eyes lost their focus for a moment and a dreamy grin spread across his face, making him look every bit the love-struck fool.

  Andrew chuckled and shook his head. “You did a good thing by snapping June up when you could. I’m not so sure I’d be doing Aggie the same service.”

  “Why not?” Ted asked, shaking out of his reverie, especially when June came striding into the bar from the back hall with a small hamper in hand. “Aggie’s always been fond of you. Everyone knows it.”

  June set the hamper on the bar and glanced between Ted and Andrew. “Is someone questioning Aggie’s feelings for you?” she asked, a hint of fierceness in her stance.

  “Andrew’s questioning whether he has a right to pursue her,” Ted told June before Andrew could speak. “He thinks people will have a problem with the match, what with him being African and all.”

  Andrew winced at the frankness with which the delicate matters of his life were being discussed as he reached for the hamper.

  But to his surprise, June looked at him and huffed. “You’re no more African than I am. You were raised in England by English parents.”

  She didn’t mean to be offensive, Andrew
knew, but her comment stung all the same. “I’m not sure the tribe I came from would agree with that.”

  June looked suddenly bashful. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you cared about things like that.”

  Andrew sighed. “It’s all right,” he said, taking the hamper and moving toward the door. “We’ll discuss it all when I come in to pay off my tab.”

  “Sorry,” Ted called after him. “Enjoy your picnic.”

  Andrew waved to him as he headed out into the street, but his heart was heavier than it should have been after a friendly conversation. It galled him that people had an opinion about who he was and where he belonged, especially when he didn’t know the answer to either conundrum himself. One set of friends accepted him fully as one of them, but other entire groups of people would never believe he was part of them. And if he didn’t know where he fit, how could he ever make a life for Aggie where she would be comfortable and happy?

  “That’s not the sort of look one should be wearing before embarking on a picnic,” Aggie said as she stepped out of Crimpley’s Market to meet him.

  Andrew smiled in spite of himself, as glad to see her and to feel her slip her arm through his as he was uncertain. “I was just contemplating the troubles of the world, as usual,” he said, far more light-hearted than he felt.

  “Well, don’t contemplate them too hard,” she said, gesturing for him to cross the street at the next intersection. “Contemplation causes wrinkles, and we’re both far too young to wrinkle up yet.”

  He laughed. He couldn’t stop himself. Aggie had a way of making hard truths seem like fluff and his worried heart feel ten times lighter. Which was exactly why he needed her in his life. She took his moods in stride, just like she took every obstacle she encountered in stride. Perhaps there was hope for them after all.

  “I had such a delightful morning,” she told him as they walked toward the town square. “Papa had me open the shop all by myself. He stood by, of course, making sure I did everything as it’s supposed to be done, but he didn’t interfere at all.”

  “How did you do?”

  “Perfectly,” Aggie said with a proud smile. “So much so that Papa says I can run the shop completely by myself on Tuesday.”

  “Congratulations,” Andrew smiled. “I’m sure you’ll be running for mayor yourself in no time.”

  “Imagine that,” Aggie said, beaming.

  Instead of walking past the town square and heading down to the lakeside, like Andrew expected, Aggie steered him onto the green lawn of the town square. The summer festival would be held on the spot in a few days, and already some of the materials that would be used to build the booths and daises had been delivered and were waiting for attention. But it wasn’t until Aggie came to a stop in the very center of the square that Andrew realized what she had in mind.

  “Aggie,” he said with a raised eyebrow, “what are you doing?”

  “Having a picnic,” she said with an innocent smile.

  “Here?”

  She replied with a sly grin. “Yes.”

  Andrew glanced around as Aggie took the hamper from him and set it on the grass. They were as exposed as they could possibly be. Anyone passing through the center of town on morning errands could see them as clear as day. They might as well have set themselves up on a stage.

  “Stop fretting,” she told him as she gathered her skirts and sat. “I told you that the purpose of this picnic is to prove that no one in town will bat an eyelash at the two of us being together. Well, except Papa, but he wouldn’t approve of anyone courting me. As soon as the rest of town accepts us, he will too. And the best way to prove that is to be on display for as many people to see as possible.”

  Andrew cleared his throat and sat across the hamper from her. “I’m not sure I care to have my personal life be a museum exhibit.”

  “Nonsense,” she scolded him with a grin. “It isn’t permanent. I’m simply trying to show you that your worries are unnecessary.”

  He arched an eyebrow at her, his grin both wary and teasing, and helped her unpack the hamper. June had outdone herself, supplying them with meat pies and tarts that had Andrew’s mouth watering within moments. Ted had thrown in a few bottles of his homebrewed beer along with a non-alcoholic cordial of some sort for Aggie, but unsurprisingly, Aggie helped herself to the beer instead of sticking to what was expected of her.

  “There,” she said as they tucked into their meal. “Isn’t this nice? It’s a lovely day, we have delicious food, and all is right with the world.”

  Andrew laughed and shook his head at her, keenly aware that a few of the townsfolk passing the square were watching them with confused frowns. “You are a testament to optimism, my dear,” he said, saluting her with a bottle.

  “Exactly. Whatever would you do without me?” she teased.

  “I don’t know,” he sighed. “I honestly don’t know.” He took a long drink to hide the genuine turmoil in his aching heart.

  “Are you still planning to travel to South Africa?” she asked, lowering her eyes just enough to give him a coy look.

  “I think I have to go,” he said with a slight wince. “Col. Montgomery is in perilous health, and my father’s brother is under the impression that if I don’t travel within the year, it will be too late.”

  “Do they know what the man might have to tell you?” she asked. “Could you ask your uncle instead?”

  “He doesn’t know,” he said. “He’s as curious as I am.”

  “I’m curious too, if you must know. I love a good story of adventure, and this one is—what are you staring at?” Aggie said suddenly, raising her voice and frowning at something past Andrew’s shoulder.

  The easy, comfortable mood that he’d slipped into vanished as he twisted to see who was staring at them. A group of middle-aged women who were renowned as the town busybodies stood a few yards off, whispering to each other and shaking their heads in disapproval. Andrew didn’t want to say to Aggie that he told her so. He settled for giving her a pointed look instead.

  “Oh, they’re such a nuisance,” she huffed. “But I refuse to think that it’s you and I specifically that they disapprove of.” She sniffed and reached for her half-eaten meat pie. “I wore a hat they didn’t like last month, and they still haven’t let me hear the end of it.”

  “If you say so,” Andrew replied with a lop-sided grin. His food wasn’t sitting as easily in his stomach as it had before, though.

  “If you go to South Africa,” she went on, a look of determination in her eyes, “I demand that you write to me every day.”

  “Absolutely,” he said, his smile turning genuine again. “I’ll document every day of the sea voyage, every wave that we come across. My letters will be boring enough to put you to sleep.”

  She laughed out loud, and Andrew noticed a pair of passing farmers who stopped to mutter in disapproval. At the other end of the park, some of the fishermen coming up from the lake sent them wary glances as well.

  “If you do that,” Aggie went on, “then I’ll torture you with dull letters recounting every transaction I process in Papa’s shop. You’ll know more about the grocery business than I will in the end.”

  “I doubt that,” Andrew replied.

  “Filthy mongrel.” Andrew and Aggie both glanced up at the unkind mutterings of a man in a suit walking past. Andrew sent another look that said “I told you so” to Aggie. The passing man wasn’t the only one watching them with outright hostility.

  Aggie sighed. “I never said it would be perfect,” she defended herself. “I’m not naïve. I know that there are people in this world who are never going to see things any way other than their own, narrow view.”

  “They do more than just see,” he argued. “A mutter here and there can lead to violence later.”

  “And do you think I have any less of a chance of being the victim of an attack as a woman?” she asked, steel in her eyes.

  The question took Andrew aback. He wasn’t sure how to reply.

>   “It doesn’t matter who I’m with,” she went on, full of fire. “I have every bit as much of a chance of being singled out for bad behavior as a woman, regardless of what the man I’m with looks like. My point in bringing you here today is to prove exactly that.”

  “Not to prove that people won’t care if we’re together?” he asked, hoping to dissuade her, but also swelling with pride in her.

  “Some people don’t care,” she pointed out, nodding to everyone who walked past without giving them a second look. “There will always be trouble in the world, Andrew. I am a woman and will have to face that trouble every day of my life. You will too. At least if we face it together, we’ll be two fighting against the world instead of one.”

  Andrew let out a breath, shaking his head. “Aggie, Aggie. Every time I build up the resolve to do what’s best and push you away, you come back with an iron-clad argument to convince me to keep you close.”

  “I’m very good at that,” she said with a cheeky grin. “I always will be.”

  “I know, I know,” he said, holding up his hands. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t always worry about you being hurt unnecessarily because of me.”

  “I think I’m a bit stronger than that,” she said, inching closer to him. “I can hold my own.”

  “If anyone can, you could,” he admitted. “But still….”

  “Still what?” She shrugged. “I’m the daughter of an important man. Papa has paved the way for me to be important as well. I can author my own destiny, and so can you.”

  It hurt. Her optimism was so beautiful that it actually stung him. Not because he should be as optimistic as her, but because he knew that, as beautiful as her strength was, it would be challenged. All of her high ideals would inevitably be cast down someday, and it would wound her. He hated that he couldn’t stop that from happening.

  “What?” she asked, studying his face. “You don’t believe me?”

  “I want to believe you,” he confessed. “I want to believe that your vision of the world is the way the world truly is. But I fear….” He shook his head, unwilling to be the source of her inevitable disappointment.