by Lori Wick
They would head for Collingbourne directly after breakfast in the morning. The day had been full of activities as official lists were filled out and someone was hired to move the items, but now the stories had been read, the children were sleeping, and the house was quiet. Nevertheless, Marianne could not rest. It had done so much for her to see where the children had been born. They had chosen wonderful items to follow them to Thornton Hall, and in the course of the hours spent at Morehouse, they had shared many things with both Marianne and Jennings.
Marianne, still not ready for bed, found she needed one last glimpse of the study that was so dear to them. She descended the stairs, her feet quiet, and sought out the beloved room. With a full moon shining in through the large windows, she needed no lantern. The moonlight bounced off of nearly every surface, and when she had looked her fill, she went to the windows and looked out on the moon-washed valley. She didn’t know how long she had been standing there when she heard a sound behind her. Jennings stood just inside the room.
“Restless?” he asked as he moved to join her.
“A little,” Marianne admitted, her gaze going back outside. “I wanted to be in this room one more time because it’s so important to the children.”
“I had the same thoughts. I feel that I know so much more about them than I did before.”
For a time they stood in silence, enjoying the view, not needing words.
“Miss Walker, will you marry me?”
Marianne turned, her face showing her surprise, but no words came forth.
“Our situation was not the same the first time I asked you,” Jennings continued, his eyes watchful of the profile that had been turned to him. “I understand fully why you had to decline, and although my faith is new, it’s most genuine. I know the children love you, and your kindness with them is beyond compare. I would wish for you to partner with me in raising Thomas, James, and Penny.”
“Oh, Mr Jennings,” Marianne began, still not able to look at him as every move of her hands showed how flustered she felt. “I’m not sure you realize how swiftly time moves. Penny’s just turned seven!” She said this as though the child in question was closing in on thirty. “In such a short time she’ll be ten and then fifteen. If she retains even a fraction of her loveliness, you’ll be sending suitors away day and night, but one will come along and she’ll be gone, and then you’ll be in possession of a wife you no longer need.” Marianne had yet to look at him and still did not when she shook her head in a definitive fashion. “I must say no, Mr Jennings. I must spare you from a trap you can’t even see.”
This very anguished speech out in the open, Marianne turned and hurried from the room.
Unlike the first refusal, Jennings felt no anger. He stood watching Marianne rush away from him, knowing only deep regret that he had asked for her hand in such a poor fashion. Twice now she had referred to herself as a wife he would not need. Jennings knew now that Marianne Walker would never be a person he didn’t need, but as to how to go about convincing her of this fact, he had not a clue.
“Penny?” Thomas asked his sister when she slipped into his room early on their last day. “What are you doing up?”
“I need to talk to you.”
Before Thomas could ask the subject, James came in behind her. He watched in some amazement as the two climbed uninvited onto his bed and looked at him.
“We want Jennings to marry Marianne.”
“And what, James Jennings,” Thomas began slowly, still working to get the sleep from his brain, “can we possibly do about that?”
“Maybe we can tell Jennings about Marianne,” Penny suggested. “Maybe he doesn’t know how nice she is and that she loves Jesus.”
“It’s not that simple, Penny. Jennings may be our guardian, but he’s not our father. At least, not in the same way.”
For a moment the children were quiet. For the last year of Godwin Jennings’ life, his children had been asking him if he would ever marry again. There had been no prospects at church, but Penny was growing older and noticing men and women together, and the first questions had come from her.
“It’s not the same,” James agreed, “but he has been kind. If he doesn’t want us to question him, he can tell us and we’ll leave the matter alone.”
Penny perked up over this idea, and Thomas had to smile. He wondered how long they’d been hatching this plan but then realized that if he was honest with himself, he’d had more than a few thoughts about Jennings and Marianne as well.
“So what did you have in mind?”
As though uncorked, Penny and James began to speak at once, both excited and full of ideas. Thomas listened in wonder and began to catch some of their excitement as well. Before the three parted to dress and go down to breakfast, they were sure they had a subtle plan.
Even the children noticed that Marianne was quiet on the ride home. Jennings worked hard to keep his eyes from her, but the new emotions he was feeling coupled with his attraction toward her were making it a very long ride toward Collingbourne. He found himself thankful that Blackburn Manor was situated to the west side of the village, giving him a valid reason to take Marianne home first and be alone with his thoughts soon.
He hadn’t counted on the children. They had no more bid Marianne goodbye, the carriage still in her driveway, than the comments and questions began.
“Marianne believes in Jesus,” Penny said simply.
Jennings stared at her but didn’t comment.
“I’ve seen her read her Bible and pray.”
“Have you, Penny?” James asked as if he found this unusual and very interesting.
“Yes. She told me that she tries to memorize a verse every week. Sometimes she can do it, and sometimes she can’t.”
“It was certainly nice that she could come along on our trip,” Thomas now inserted.
“I was thinking the same thing,” James added. “She was such a good sport about sea bathing when she wasn’t a good swimmer, but then I think Marianne is a good sport about most things.”
It was not lost on Jennings that the children were watching him. The comments went on for a time. Almost without exception something would be said, and then three pairs of eyes would come his way.
“Did you enjoy having Marianne along, Jennings?” James finally asked.
“Yes,” he said truthfully, now having fully caught on and wanting to shout with laughter.
“Do you think she’s nice?” Penny wished to know.
“I do, yes,” Jennings was able to say in complete honesty, his voice softening even as he thought of Marianne Walker’s sweetness.
“I can’t help but wonder why she’s never married,” James said, his eyes conspicuously directed out the window this time.
Jennings’ hand came to his upper lip. He wasn’t going to touch this one, no matter how subtle James thought he might be, but the urge to laugh was almost unbearable. He wondered what these three would do if he were to confess to them that he’d already asked the lady in question to be his wife—not just once, but twice.
“I hope she’ll come to visit us soon,” Thomas said, this time with only Marianne on his mind. “She was quiet on the ride home. I hope she hasn’t grown weary of us.”
“I’m sure not,” Jennings said, hearing genuine concern in Thomas’ voice. “We have had long hours in the carriage, and she might have been tired.”
“Will she come and visit us soon? Did you ask her to?” Penny wished to know.
“I didn’t, Penny, but we can certainly extend an invitation anytime you like.”
For a time the children let it drop. Nothing they had said had prompted Jennings to admit that he was interested in Marianne, and they didn’t want to take their idea too far. It popped into James’ head that maybe Marianne was the one they should have been hinting to, but then he remembered that the man does the asking and put this idea aside.
Although, his young heart reasoned even as Thornton Hall came into view, the lady in question ha
s to be ready with an answer. It probably wouldn’t hurt to drop a few hints to Marianne as well.
This determined, James contemplated a time when he could discuss it with his siblings. They had to work as a team on this, or Jennings might not get the message. Even as the carriage stopped before Thornton Hall and they moved their stiff limbs to climb out, James was hatching a plan, believing himself to be utterly undetectable as he mentally plotted.
Had James but known it, Jennings was on to the three of them. His heart a mixture of tenderness and amusement, he could hardly wait to see what they would next attempt.
Chapter Nineteen
Blackburn Manor
“How was your trip?” Mrs Walker asked when she embraced her daughter in the foyer at Blackburn Manor.
“Very nice and interesting all at the same time,” Marianne said, setting her things aside and even kicking her shoes from her feet.
“Come and tell me.”
The women sequestered themselves in the sitting room, and Marianne began to recount the trip.
“It was going quite well,” she ended her story, “until he asked again to marry me.”
“When did this happen?”
“Last night at Morehouse. We were alone in the study; the children were in bed.”
“What did you say?” Mrs Walker asked quietly, even as she could read the answer in her daughter’s pained eyes.
“I said no. I rattled on, probably making no sense, and then rushed away. I must admit that the journey home was a bit strained.”
“Did he give a reason why he asked again?”
“Yes. He said he understood my first refusal, but that his faith is very genuine, and he truly wishes me to partner with him in raising the children.”
“Oh, Mari, I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“You don’t think I should have said yes?”
“At one time I would have, but not when I think about his not loving you. I want you to be cherished, and unless you’re going to be, you can just stay right here where I know it will happen.”
They were words that Marianne would cling to in the time to come. Even as she recounted the story to her mother, she had doubts about refusing Mr Jennings. However, she would not settle for anything less than love. Marianne knew this deep in her heart, but unless she worked to keep it at the forefront of her mind, she might be tempted to doubt her own sanity.
Mr Walker ran them to earth just a few moments later, and he too wished to know of his daughter’s trip. His words nearly echoed his wife’s when he learned of the second proposal, and when Marianne finally left their company to read for a while in her room, she was certain she’d done the right thing.
Thornton Hall
“I want to show you something,” Penny said to Marianne when she visited a few days later.
“All right.”
“It’s in my room.”
Almost out of nowhere James materialized. Marianne greeted him but continued to follow Penny upstairs. James trailed in their wake.
“It’s a shelf,” Penny said, pointing to a small wooden shelf mounted on the same wall as her headboard and level with her pillow. Placed on the shelf, with very little room for anything else, was Mr Pat.
“Oh, Penny, that’s grand! A shelf for your special rabbit.”
“Mr Jennings gave it to her, just for Mr Pat,” James informed her.
“How kind of him.”
“He does other kind things as well,” James went on. “He’s letting us bring just about anything we want from Morehouse.”
“I remember,” Marianne said with a smile, stopping James a bit.
He recalled suddenly that Marianne was often part of their life. What could he tell her about Jennings that she would not already know?
“And we’re going to London for school clothes,” Penny said, also forgetting that Marianne knew of this.
“When will you leave?” Marianne asked.
“Next week, Monday.”
“That will be nice.”
“Mr Jennings is often nice,” James said, knowing that it sounded a bit forced, but so wanting Marianne to be ready when Jennings asked for her hand.
“Is everything all right, James?” Marianne asked him.
“Yes,” he said, although his face said otherwise.
Penny chose that moment to ask, “Do you like Mr Jennings? Do you think he’s nice?”
In an instant a cold feeling ran down Marianne’s spine. If Jennings had put the children up to this, she found it most distasteful. It didn’t seem to be his style, but where did all of this come from?
“I think a walk in the park sounds nice,” Marianne said in an effort to divert her own chaotic thoughts. “Is anyone interested?”
James knew he had to give up. He’d seen an odd look on Marianne’s face and now had the impression that something was bothering her. The thought made the little boy feel uneasy.
“We’ll come with you,” James said right away. “But we have to do something first. Would it be all right if we meet you downstairs?”
“Certainly, James.”
Not at all sure she liked this turn of events, Marianne made her way from the room. She descended the stairs, her mind distracted. She didn’t see Jennings at the bottom of the stairs until she was almost on top of him.
“Good day, Miss Walker.”
“Oh!” Marianne was startled. “I didn’t see you.”
Ignoring her flushed face, Jennings asked, “Did you find the children?”
“Yes,” Marianne said, not feeling very warm toward her host just now. She used little eye contact as she continued. “Penny, James, and I are going for a walk.”
“I hope you have a nice time.” Jennings bowed and moved on his way. It was clear to him that she was not comfortable around him, and for the sake of the children, he determined to stay out of the way, at least for the time being.
Marianne watched him walk away, her heart in a quandary. She was heartily relieved to see James and Penny, who had just determined together to drop all hints, coming down the stairs. They left on their walk just moments later.
“How did that foot seem?” Jennings called to Thomas as he rode back toward the stables on his horse, Nicholas.
“Good as new. He didn’t miss a step.”
Jennings held the bridle as Thomas swung out of the saddle, the young man’s face flushed from the activity.
“Do you think James wants to ride for a time?” the boy asked.
“He’s on a walk with Miss Walker and your sister, but you can probably find them in the garden and ask him.”
“I might do that.”
“Ride down the path. They’re sure to hear you coming.”
Thomas jumped back into the saddle in a flash and set off at a brisk canter. Jennings had a word with the stable master before following slowly. He came at an angle to the rear of the house, and for that reason he spotted Marianne at the edge of the garden. Not willing to rush the view, he came to a complete stop and for a time just watched her. At first his mind was nearly blank, but then he found himself begging God for direction, and beyond that, patience.
Marianne was going to wait for refreshments on the veranda, but since the children had gone inside and a particular bloom, a Great Willowherb if she remembered correctly, had caught her eye, she moved from her seat. She was bent slightly and was studying the bright pink petals when she heard movement beside her.
“How did you fare on your walk with the children?” Jennings asked as he came up beside her.
“Fine, thank you,” Marianne answered, only just glancing at him, still feeling most unsettled over her earlier thoughts.
“Did Thomas find James?”
“Yes.”
“Did they go riding?”
“Not yet.”
Save the wind in the trees, silence fell on this stilted conversation. Marianne wished Jennings would move on his way or that she could think of something worthwhile to say.
“Somethi
ng is wrong, Miss Walker, and I wish I knew what it was.”
For some reason, the words irritated her. Marianne faced Jennings, her eyes stern.
“The children seem to think that I need it pointed out to me what a kind man you are. I don’t like the direction of my thoughts, but it has occurred to me that you’ve spoken to them.”
Marianne had no more said this when she noticed both James and Penny watching them from a window near the veranda. They stood side by side, and Thomas appeared behind them a moment later.
“Spoken to them about what?” Jennings asked once he’d followed the direction of her gaze and turned to see the children as well.
“About your proposal.”
“I certainly have not,” Jennings said, sounding none too pleased. “It’s none of their affair.”
Marianne was so relieved that for a moment she said nothing.
With another glance at the children, Jennings calmly spoke.
“I do believe, however, that we are the focus of a conspiracy.”
Marianne looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“You are not the only one the children are working to persuade.”
Marianne had all she could do to keep her mouth closed.
“They spoke to you about me?”
“Almost before you could exit the carriage when we returned on Wednesday.”
Marianne looked as stunned as she felt.
“Am I to assume that you put them up to it?” he questioned.
“Mr Jennings!” she began before seeing the twinkle in his eyes. Marianne laughed, a hand to her warm cheek, and found herself calming.
“Someone needs to explain to them,” Marianne said with a small shake of her head. “It’s only fair.”
“And what exactly needs to be explained?”
Marianne looked slightly flustered but still said, “Well, that they’ve misunderstood the situation.”
Jennings didn’t reply. At the moment he didn’t know what to say, but then he wasn’t given a chance. Mr Collins had come outside to inform him that he had a visitor.