For the Lady of Lowena (A Cornish Romance Book 2)

by Deborah M. Hathaway

  “I be finished with my tasks, Sophia,” Gwynna said in a hushed tone. “Perhaps we could meet later?”

  Sophia nodded, sending a quick look of gratitude in her friend’s direction before Gwynna left down the street. Sophia turned back to face Mr. Hawkins, who stopped a few paces from her.

  “Mr. Hawkins, did you forget something?”

  “No, I simply wished to speak with you alone for a moment.” His eyes scanned the crowds before he motioned behind her. “If you are at liberty, would you mind very much walking somewhere a little quieter?”

  “Very well.”

  Sophia’s stomach churned, her hands growing damp and cold. Mr. Hawkins was sure to tell her now of Miss Kinsey. He would admit his love for her, his mother’s pleasure over his choice. And Sophia would have to congratulate him and pretend that her heart was not crumpling to pieces.

  They moved together to the quieter part of town, neither of them speaking until the crowds dispersed.

  “Where is your mother?” Sophia asked.

  “I left her with Mrs. Rennalls outside a ribbon stall. She will be sure to be entertained for hours.”

  A hint of a smile was on his voice. Sophia ought to be pleased with his happiness, but she could not find the strength within her to be so selfless.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye to you at Fynwary Hall,” he said, walking with his hands clasped behind his back. “My mother said you had other calls to carry out.”

  Sophia held her tongue.

  “But, knowing you,” he continued, “and knowing my mother, I’m sure I can safely surmise that you did not have other calls to pay. Unless, of course, it was to the Merricks.”

  She glanced up at him.

  “Did my mother’s behavior cause you to leave early from Fynwary?”

  What could she do, lie to make him feel better, to pretend that she really did love his mother? But that was not who she was anymore. She would not hide behind a façade. She would be herself. “Truthfully, I did leave because of her, because of the things she said.”

  Mr. Hawkins released a heavy sigh. “I suspected as much. I’m sorry to have left you alone with her and for her treatment of you. I will have a word with her.”

  “There is no need. Fortunately, for both your sakes, your mother does not disapprove of Miss Kinsey as she does me.”

  “For both of our sakes?” he questioned.

  A sigh deflated her shoulders. “I know, sir.”

  “What do you mean? You know what?”

  She kept her mouth closed, unable to speak the words aloud.

  “Miss Rosewall,” he said, reaching out to stop her.

  She pulled away from his touch, glancing around to be sure no one had seen. “Please, you mustn’t reach out to me any longer. Even if we were to remain distant friends after your marriage, I hardly think your intended would appreciate you touching me.”

  “My marriage? Intended? Miss Rosewall, what are you speaking about?”

  “Stop, Mr. Hawkins,” she hissed, lowering her voice further as a couple walked by with curious eyes. “You must consider Miss Kinsey’s feelings now.”

  She hardly thought she should be the one to correct the gentleman’s conduct, especially considering how she had once behaved. But she respected Miss Kinsey enough to not allow their closeness to continue.

  “Miss Kinsey?” he questioned.

  “Yes, Miss Kinsey,” she replied, eying his crumpled brow. “And you may cease your feigned puzzlement. I am well aware of the attachment the two of you have made.”

  His mouth parted, his look of utter disbelief increasing.

  “Really, sir, you are doing yourself a disservice by continuing. I saw you that day, at Fynwary Hall. I heard your mother telling me that you have fallen in love with Miss Kinsey.”

  Mr. Hawkins squeezed his eyes shut, placing a hand to his brow. He was no doubt ashamed at his secrecy, and his lies. Perhaps even his behavior toward Sophia when he’d harbored love for Miss Kinsey all along. But she did not wish him pain.

  “All is well, I assure you,” she said, forcing her tone to remain light. “And I must congratulate the two of you on your union. You will make a fine couple and—”

  “No, Miss Rosewall, you misunderstand.”

  She stopped. “Pardon?”

  He moved his hand from his head to his chest, his eyebrows drawn close together as he leaned toward her. “I am not engaged to Miss Kinsey.”

  “But I saw you with her.”

  “What you saw must have been the two of us entering my study to discuss…” He paused with a sigh. “She made me swear not to tell anyone, but I cannot allow you to believe one thing when…”

  He looked around them. Without hesitancy, he grasped her hand and pulled her toward the side of a shop where no one could overhear them. They stood facing each other as he released her.

  “It is true that Miss Kinsey called on me when you were visiting with my mother,” he began. “However, we did not discuss our love for each other, but to discuss a love Miss Kinsey has for another man entirely. A man she knew before she even came to live with the Madderns.”

  As he spoke, hope threatened to burst from within her like a caged bird.

  He continued. “Apparently, her parents did not approve of her choice, so they sent her to live with her aunt and uncle to forget her love and find another. But she cannot.”

  A wave of understanding rushed over her. Miss Kinsey’s behavior, her timid nature and depressed state, all of it was due to being torn from her beloved and being forced to love another. How Sophia regretted her impatience with the woman, and her cruel treatment of her.

  Mr. Hawkins continued. “She told me this because she feared I had grown an attachment to her, and she believed I deserved an explanation why she could never return my supposed affection.” He paused, staring down at Sophia with a penetrating gaze. “So you see, there is no undertaking between us, and certainly no engagement.”

  The relief Sophia felt at Mr. Hawkins’s words, the overwhelming joy she experienced—and the utter stupidity she suffered—prevented any word from leaving her mouth apart from a single, solitary, and nearly silent, “Oh.”

  A smile broke out on his lips. “I am sorry for all of this. I hope things are clearer for you now.”

  “Yes, they certainly are.” What a fool she had been, again. Yet, she could not help but ask one more question. “So you were not disappointed by Miss Kinsey’s revelation?”

  His voice was deep and soft. “No. Because I do not love her.” He took a step toward her. “Sophia, you must know that I…” His eyes flitted past her, and he frowned, shaking his head. “No, Mother will be finished soon. I must meet her, or she will wonder where I am.”

  Sophia nodded at once, willing her breathing to remain stable as the sound of her name on his lips caused a warmth to blanket her heart. “Of course, I understand.”

  And she did. Though that didn’t mean she wasn’t acutely disappointed to have not heard the rest of his words.

  He leaned toward her with a determined look. “When Mother leaves, may I call on you?”

  “Of course, sir,” she said breathlessly.

  He nodded with a curt tip of his head then turned and walked away without another word. Sophia stared after his departure. What had gotten into him, the fact that his mother might come in search of him, or that he had been about to share something so intimate, he did not wish to be interrupted?

  She chewed on her lip, wandering through the town, distracted. His mother had said that Mr. Hawkins was close to becoming engaged. If she had been speaking the truth, and the woman he’d mentioned was not Miss Kinsey, then who was it?

  Before she’d even asked the question, hope poured over her. But she couldn’t voice it, not even in thought. Not yet. Not when it was too glorious and too wonderful a notion to dwell on for so long before she saw Mr. Hawkins again.

  She determined to think no longer on it, but a smile had worked its way onto her l
ips long before she reached Lowena. She entered the cottage and closed the door behind her, so deep in thought that she’d made it all the way to the stairs before hearing a voice calling for her nearby.

  “Sophia, there you are.”

  She jumped, turning to the source. “Mother?”

  “We have been waiting for your return for an hour now.”

  Sophia stared. What was going on? Why was Mother out of her room with a smile lighting her face?

  “My apologies,” Sophia stammered, “I did not know you were waiting for me.”

  “Oh, all is well. Come, we have much to discuss with you.”

  “We?” She followed Mother into the sitting room, adjacent to the small entryway, to where Father stood near the fireplace.

  “Good morning, Sophia,” he greeted. “I trust you had a pleasant trip to St. Just?”

  “I did.” She had not said more than a few words to Father since that night in his study, and she had not seen her mother smile in such a way since before Lowena. What on earth was going on with the both of them?

  “Come sit, my dear,” Mother said, patting the chair near the fireplace as she sat down across from it. “Your father and I have wonderful news.”

  “Oh?” Sophia asked, her mind struggling to come to terms with the image before her. Had they not been seated in the minute sitting room of Lowena Cottage, Sophia would have thought they had somehow traveled to the past, her mother and father watching her with doting eyes, sitting before Fynwary’s fireplace as they spoke about happy matters.

  “Do you recall at the Madderns’ ball when I’d mentioned that I had written to my aunt a few days before?” Father began.

  Sophia noticed for the first time the letter he held in his hands. She swallowed. “Yes.”

  “Well, I am pleased to say that she has responded to my request for aid, in a way for which we could have only hoped.”

  Sophia waited, a strange dread filling her as the excitement in her parents’ eyes grew. “And what way is that?”

  “She wishes for us to come live with her at her grand estate in Yorkshire, Sophia,” Mother said. Her hands were clasped in her lap as if she couldn’t contain her joy. “Can you believe it?”

  Sophia couldn’t. She glanced between her parents. Her heart slipped from its rightful place and tumbled to the floor, preventing her from feeling happiness, peace, love.

  The reason behind their joy was now clear. They finally had the chance to leave behind the life they so abhorred. The life Sophia had only now begun to love.

  “But I thought Aunt June did not approve of us,” she questioned, “that she despised us since Father took over Fynwary Hall?”

  “Apparently, she has had a change of heart. Has she not, my dear?” Father placed a soft hand on Mother’s shoulder.

  Mother stared up at him with a warm smile. “It has been known to happen to us all.”

  Sophia stared at them, tears springing to her eyes. Weeks. It had been weeks since she’d seen her parents share such affection, when it used to be the daily standard. This was all due to their circumstances having changed, their wealth returned.

  “Will it not be wonderful, Sophia?” Mother said, turning to her with hope-filled eyes. “To enjoy luxuries again, to afford dresses and shoes, even lady’s maids?”

  Sophia stared at the floor, trying to see what her mother did. In truth, it would be fine to be able to afford such delicacies once more, to not worry if they could afford a ribbon or perhaps a new handkerchief. But moving to Yorkshire, leaving behind Cornwall, her home. Mr. Hawkins. How could she even consider such a thing?

  “And Aunt has agreed to fund all of this? And to house us free of charge? Forgive me, but I don’t understand why she would.”

  Her parents exchanged a look, and Father took a step forward. “She has agreed to spare no expense where we are concerned. We will be given a generous portion to live on yearly, and we will be allowed to remain at her estate in Yorkshire. But there is one small condition she has required.”

  Sophia stared. “And what is that? That we not speak of our past? That we quit Cornwall now?”

  “No, it is in regard to you, Sophia.” He unfolded the letter in his hand and held it up to read. “‘I’ve had word that your daughter is a lovely creature,’ she writes, ‘as accomplished and charming as any woman in Town.’”

  “Which certainly is true,” Mother interrupted with an encouraging nod.

  “Indeed,” Father said before he continued. “‘But I understand that she has not yet secured a husband. It just so happens that my dear friend, Mrs. Thompson, desperately desires a wealthy, amiable wife for her son. I believe your daughter may provide such a one.’”

  Shock spread through Sophia’s veins, her limbs growing numb.

  “Is that not wonderful?” Mother asked. “Evidently, this Mr. Thompson is very handsome.”

  One thought crossed over the other, Sophia’s mind a jumble of confusion. “But why would they wish for me to marry him when I have no dowry?”

  “Oh, but Aunt June has agreed to secure that, as well, should we choose to live with her. Apparently, she is very close to this Mrs. Thompson and thinks the world of her and her son. They wish to join their families not only in friendship, but in marriage, as well. You should consider it a great honor that Aunt June has even thought of you to be a match for such a friend of hers.”

  Mother glowed. Father stared dotingly at his wife. But Sophia couldn’t breathe. “And if I do not go to Yorkshire and marry this perfect stranger?”

  “Then her invitation becomes void,” Father replied.

  Mother pulled back, her brow raised. “Why, Sophia. Are you truly considering refusing such an offer?”

  Sophia hardly knew what to consider, only that her mind was on Mr. Hawkins, what he’d been about to say, and his request to call on her when his mother left.

  “Sophia, my dear,” Mother said softly, “I do not believe you are truly grasping the magnitude of what Aunt June is offering us. What she is offering you. It is a new life, a chance to start fresh, away from rumors and judgments. From those who once called us friends. Without her generous offer, the three of us will remain at this cottage for the rest of our lives, penniless and forgotten. But if you accept, we will have riches again. You will have a dowry again. A marriage. Think of it, Sophia. We knew finding a spouse for you was unlikely after moving here.”

  The words threatened to slice through Sophia’s hope guarding her heart. She closed her eyes, willing the truth to fill her wounds. Mr. Hawkins had feelings for her, whether she had a fortune or not. Just as she had strong feelings for him. Knowing such a thing, how could she leave him behind, how could she leave her heart behind, and willingly marry another?

  “Sophia?” Father spoke next, coming to sit beside her. His hand took Sophia’s. “Do you think you might be able to do this for us? For our happiness?”

  “For the happiness of us all?” Mother added.

  The weight her parents placed on her pressed heavily on her conscience. If Mr. Hawkins did propose to her, as a gentleman, he would provide for Sophia and for her parents. But Mother and Father would never be content to live on his charity, even if he was their son-in-law. Their pride wouldn’t allow it. So would Sophia simply leave her parents behind to fend for themselves while she lived happily herself?

  A memory pierced her heart. When Sophia had first moved to the cottage and hinted at the Madderns to help her escape Lowena, Mr. Hawkins had accused her of leaving her parents behind so she might live a life of leisure.

  How could Sophia now, in good conscience, do the very same thing? How would Mr. Hawkins ever be able to look at her again if she chose to be selfish?

  No, being selfish had no place within her now. She would be selfless. She would sacrifice her own joy, her own potential future with Mr. Hawkins, to secure the happiness of her parents.

  “What is your decision then, Sophia?”

  The hope lacing Mother’s voice sapped what littl
e was left within Sophia.

  “Yes,” she found herself saying aloud. “For you both, I will accept Aunt June’s offer.”

  She hardly heard Mother’s joyous clapping, nor saw Father leave the room to pen a response to his aunt. All she could hear was the ringing in her ears, and all she could feel was the empty beating of her hollow heart.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “I do hope you haven’t been too disappointed with your time here in Cornwall, Freddy.”

  Frederick quirked a brow at his mother. “As you have been disappointed?”

  She pursed her lips, standing outside of her carriage. “You know I have enjoyed every moment I have spent with you.”

  “You’d just prefer if we were in London together,” Frederick added.

  “Precisely.”

  “That may happen yet, one day.”

  She sighed. “Well, I trust next time I see you, you will have found that elusive bride you so long for and hinted at. Heaven only knows how particular you are about your choice.”

  Frederick smiled. “I can only hope I have Heaven’s help.”

  Mother patted his cheek. “I love you, son.”

  “I love you, Mother.”

  She stepped up into the carriage. “And don’t give up on Miss Kinsey just yet. She really was a lovely young woman and would make you a fine wife.”

  Frederick shook his head. He’d just told his mother a mere ten minutes before that he would not be pursuing Miss Kinsey, that he had another woman in mind entirely. But he kept quiet on who that woman was. He didn’t need his mother trying to convince him he’d made the wrong choice. He was decided on the matter, and nothing could convince him otherwise.

  The morning Miss Kinsey had requested an audience with him, told him that she was in love with another, had been one of the most relieving moments of his life. He’d been worrying for so long that he’d shown too great of interest in Miss Kinsey to still honorably leave her behind to pursue another woman, namely Miss Rosewall. But at Miss Kinsey’s revelation, the guilt he’d consistently felt had vanished. Best of all, he was now free to explore his feelings for Miss Rosewall.