by Karen Kirst
She left her eggs but finished the tea and toast, for Daniel was right. She did feel somewhat better when she had something to eat. Then she went in search of her sister. Better to tell Susannah the truth and beg to stay with her now rather than later.
Susannah was finishing her tea in bed, a lace nightcap covering her exuberant auburn hair. As Hannah sat on the foot of the bed, Susannah eyed her over her teacup. “Daniel was just here, and he told me everything,” she said, before Hannah could open her mouth.
What a relief. “Sue, I am sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” Susannah replied, briskly. “I agree with Daniel. We are affronted that John Reed would consider you a liar. Even in the heat of anger, which Daniel assures me must have bereft John of all reason, no one could consider you a hypocrite. In fact, if he were here, I would take him to task. How dare he?”
“Thank you for believing me,” Hannah replied. “But you must think I have no common sense, for I have fallen in love with him despite his many flaws.”
Susannah put her teacup aside. “It seems that the Siddons girls are all attracted to men who have their fair share of failings,” she admitted. “Daniel and Paul were both men in need of a great deal of work. I suspect John Reed is the same. Daniel feels that John will realize what a donkey he has been and will come and make amends with you. The question is, will you take him back?”
“There’s no question of taking back,” Hannah replied, plucking at the coverlet. “He was not mine to begin with.”
“I suspect he was, though neither of you may have admitted it to yourselves.” Susannah set aside her tea tray. “I want you to be content, Nan. If John Reed will make you happy, you have my blessing.”
“Thank you for saying that.” Both Daniel and Susannah were certain that John would come running back to Tansley, but somehow, she couldn’t see him doing that. She had no assurance that he felt anything more for her than a businesslike affection. “In the meantime, may I stay here?”
“Of course. Goodwin Hall is your home.” Susannah smiled and rose from bed. She said nothing about Hannah’s decision to give away the shop and nothing more about Grant Park. Daniel must have said something to her about it. A surge of gratitude coursed through Hannah. Because of her brother-in-law, the worst conversation of her life had not really been that bad.
*
John sat, staring at the hearth. The late spring chill was setting in as the sun set, but he would not have a fire. He wanted to be alone, in total darkness. In the past, he would have turned to any kind of dissolute pleasure he could think of to break his depression. He would have at least ordered one drink—or several. But none of that would do, now. He was a changed man, at peace with his past and in accord with his Maker. But for what good was that now? The woman he trusted most in this world, the one who brought him to the Lord, in fact, had deceived him.
His bedroom door opened, and a shaft of light pierced the gloom. “Get out,” he ordered.
“I’m no servant, and I won’t cower to your ridiculous wishes.” Jane closed the door behind her and walked into the room, illuminated by candlelight. Using her taper, she lit all the candles in the room, then busied herself stirring up the fire on his hearth. When it sprang to life, the room was bathed in a mellow, golden glow, which was exactly not what he wanted to see or experience at the moment. He closed his eyes.
“I came in because I have made a terrible muddle of things, and I want to make amends.” Jane snapped her fingers. “Open your eyes. I won’t talk to you when you look like you’re sleeping.”
“Fine.” He forced himself to look at her as she took her place opposite him. “Tell me.” His eyes were full of grit, as though he had sand in them, and his throat was so tight he found it difficult to swallow. This malady had taken hold just after Sid left two days ago.
“You thought Hannah Siddons was involved in my romance with Timothy Holdcroft, but that’s simply not true.” Jane flushed and dropped her gaze to the floor. “She carried messages to Timothy, but unknowingly.”
“What do you mean?” he rasped, rubbing his hand over his stubbled chin. Jane wasn’t making sense, or else he was more out of sorts than he suspected.
“I loaned Hannah a handkerchief case, which she used in her display at the shop. What she didn’t know is that the case has a secret part.” Jane held out a leather-bound box to him, and he took it. “Open it, and take a look.”
He opened the lid, and as he did, spied a small spring just under the ridge. He tapped it with his fingernail and the top of the case opened, revealing a small compartment. “Sid never figured this out?”
“No. Hannah’s too circumspect to go around prying into things I loan her. I would stuff a letter in there to Timothy, and he would go to Hannah’s shop and retrieve it, and leave one for me. When Hannah returned, she would bring the case to me, and I would find Timothy’s message in there for me.” She held out two letters. “These are the letters Timothy gave me. As you will see, Hannah had no idea what was happening.”
John scanned the foolscap with eyes that still burned.
I will leave this letter in the box in the hopes that Hannah Siddons will bring it to you, albeit unwittingly. I feel bad for taking advantage of her in this way, yet I have no other way to communicate with you, my dear. I hope that, in time, I can present myself to your brother as an honorable suitor. I despise creeping around like a thief.
He folded up the missive and handed it back to her. “Sid never knew.” Each word was heavy, as though weighted with a stone.
“She never had an inkling,” Jane admitted. “Through this handkerchief box, I was able to convince Timothy to come here and try to win my hand. Only, when the time drew near, I panicked. I begged him to elope with me because I was certain you would never give your consent. Of course, the whole plan was foiled and Timothy is back in Tansley, so I didn’t get what I wanted anyway.” She tucked the letters back in the box. “I am sorry because I hid all of this from you. I used Hannah, and because I was so callous and only thought of what I wanted, I ruined her life and yours, too.”
John sat, brooding as he stared into the fire. He had accused Sid of lying, when he should have known that she would never go behind his back. In everything, she had always been painfully honest with him. He snapped and lost his temper and because of his actions, she was gone. He had been a complete buffoon, and she left with her spine straight and never looked back.
She was too good for him by half.
In fact, Timothy Holdcroft and Hannah Siddons were far better people than the residents of Grant Park. Timothy had tried to be aboveboard and honorable, and only when Jane insisted did he waver from that path. He was a good man, a simple and direct man, with nothing of the fortune hunter about him. Hannah Siddons was as straight as an arrow, exquisite and desirable.
He was as smitten with Hannah Siddons as Jane was with Timothy Holdcroft. Mother had wanted nothing more for her children than to act, as she did, out of love. She had wanted them to be free and happy. She would, above anyone else, want them both to make this situation right.
“Fancy a trip to Tansley?” he asked.
Jane gasped. “Do you mean it?”
“Yes.” He hunched forward in his chair. “We don’t deserve them, Jane. They are both far superior to us. But we can’t live without either of them. Should we try to convince them that we are worth it?”
Jane nodded, tears sparkling in her eyes. “Yes. A thousand times yes. I know how much Hannah means to you.”
He smiled for the first time in days. “I think you will make a good enough farmer’s wife, provided you will put your violin away when it’s time to milk the cows.”
Jane slapped his arm, half laughing, half crying. “All talk of a London Season is over, then? I have your consent?”
“You do, as well as my apologies for acting like a stubborn, snobby fool.” He leaned back in his chair. “Do I have your consent to marry Sid, provided she will even allow me in the front door of G
oodwin Hall?”
Jane smiled. “I think she is essential to your well-being, John. Because of her influence, you have become an infinitely better man. I couldn’t pick a better woman to be my sister.”
“I couldn’t agree more. It’s settled.” He rose, full of purpose and determination for the first time in days. “We’ll leave just after dawn.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
How bad could her worst nightmare be? Hannah gathered her skirts beneath her and knelt before her nephew. Charlie smiled and clapped his hands. “Are you ready for a story, then?” This was her new role, that of a maiden aunt, so she should start practicing without delay. “Auntie Nan would love to tell you one. Let’s read about Jonah and the whale.”
She gathered her nephew into her lap and opened a large, beautifully illustrated children’s book. As she read, she nuzzled her chin against Charlie’s hair. Little ones smelled so good. There was just something so sweet about him, as his grubby hands reached for the pages, ready to crumple them in his tiny, powerful fists. There was nothing at all alarming about being a spinster. This was lovely. The only run was that none of this would be hers alone. At the end of the day, Charlie would go back to his mother and she would be alone. That was the nightmarish part—never being more than a temporary comfort to anyone, and knowing that she would be by herself for most of her life.
What would it be like to have a child of her own? The sudden yearning to know made her feel slightly dizzy. She would never know, and this wondering was futile. Obviously, God intended for her to live her life being of service to others at Goodwin Hall, and there wasn’t much more that she could ask for. There were far worse positions to be in.
She pushed the longing to the back of her mind. Now was the time to enjoy Charlie, and not brood over what could never be.
As she read, the door to the nursery opened, but she did not pause in her reading. The maids were in and out all day, and likely one of them came in to change the linens in Charlie’s crib.
Charlie stopped paying attention to the story and instead began cooing, raising his arms up in the air. Mystified by his sudden change in focus, she glanced up.
John Reed stood before her, and he held Molly in his arms. As she lifted her eyes to his, he placed Molly on the floor. The puppy frisked about Charlie, who laughed with genuine delight and screeched as she had never heard him screech before. Molly, far from being cowed by this awesome display of toddler affection, licked Charlie’s face. Hannah placed the book on the table nearby and regarded John warily. Why had he come back?
“He doesn’t seem to be afraid of dogs,” John said, smiling at Charlie. “That’s a mercy.”
“Indeed.” She was grasping after dignity, but it was hard to remain frostily polite with a child and a puppy playing together in her lap. Their effusiveness rather lightened the mood. Why was he here? She must put some businesslike distance between them in order to think properly. “Perhaps it would be best if we went outside.”
John scooped Molly up and Hannah found Charlie’s jacket. She hoisted the toddler onto her hip and led the way downstairs and out into the front garden. She placed Charlie on a warm patch of grass and watched as John set Molly nearby. In a matter of seconds, the collie pup found the little boy and they grew absorbed in a game whereby Charlie threw fistfuls of grass into the air, to Molly’s great delight.
Hannah turned to John. “Is anything the matter with Jane’s wardrobe? I left instructions for the girls to use as they finished.”
“No, her wardrobe is perfect. The rest of my life is a muddle, though.” John grabbed her shoulders, holding her tightly enough that she could not move away without wriggling free. “Sid, everything’s all to pieces without you, especially me. I don’t deserve you. I never have. I was an idiot to think you had deceived me. Jane told me the whole tale, that she had you carrying notes to and from Tansley but that you had no knowledge of what you were doing.”
“What?” Nothing he said made any sense, and his touch on her shoulders was mightily disconcerting.
“The handkerchief box had a hidden compartment,” he explained tersely. “She used it to pass messages to Holdcroft.”
“Oh.” Mixed emotions welled within her—anger at being used, humiliation at being tricked and sudden relief that he knew she had not been knowingly involved. “I see.”
“I don’t expect you to want me,” he continued, his dark eyes flashing. “I’m no prize. I am a better person with you than without you. Because of you, I came to understand the truth about both of my parents. I am now at peace with God. I can’t offer you anything beyond what you already know about me. But if you promise to be mine, Hannah Siddons, I will spend the rest of my days trying to make you happy. Will you marry me?”
Hannah swallowed. Had she heard correctly? After all, there had been a misunderstood proposal once before in their past. “I am not sure I understand.”
“How could I be plainer, Sid?” He laughed, holding her closer. “Normally you are so astute.”
“I’m not trying to be thick,” she protested, stepping away from the safety of his arms. She must have some distance between them to clear her mind. “Once before, my family thought you had proposed to me and it was all a terrible mistake, and I don’t like to be humiliated for the same thing twice, if I can help it.”
“I’m sorry.” His face fell, and he looked at her from under his brows. “I was acting stupidly then. I am in earnest now. I don’t know what to say, Hannah. I am not a man who makes pretty speeches easily. In fact, it is hard for me to stay solemn about anything for very long.”
“True,” she blurted. Honestly, would she ever learn to control her caustic comments?
If John minded her sarcasm, he didn’t show it. “I don’t know why I wasn’t smart enough to propose to you that night, because I knew then, when we were dancing together, that we were a perfect match. I have, since then, come to feel in every respect that you are the only woman in the world for me.”
She looked at him, and elation warred with anger within her. Why was she angry? She really couldn’t say. All her life, she had been Nan—unlikeable, not pretty, boring and practical. She had accepted her role in her family and in the world. She didn’t like it, but she had grown used to being the girl who nobody wanted. Now, here he was, changing all that she had grown used to and it was difficult to suppress the sudden strange thread of irritation that came with her whole world changing.
“I never expected to hear you say these words,” she admitted slowly. “I don’t know what to say. I thought everything was one way. Every time you come into my life, you turn it upside down.”
“In a good way?” he pressed, looking more abashed than she had ever seen him.
“Yes, you’ve changed me for the better.” She smiled, despite her roiling emotions. “I’m just not accustomed to these changes. I don’t know what to say.”
“I think I know what you mean, because I had started fulfilling my own circumscribed idea of who I was, too.” He folded his arms across his chest. “When you were at Grant Park, you started allowing yourself to become Hannah. Now, you’re back in Tansley, and you’re Nan.” He stepped back and gave her one long assessing look, from the crown of her head to the tips of her slippers. “The question before you isn’t really about whether or not you want to marry me. It’s about what you want. You can bob along and allow other people to tell you what to do, or you can decide for yourself. The choice is before you.”
John Reed was challenging her, just as he had done several times before. When he did, and she rose to the dare, good things happened. With his help and encouragement, she had broken away from the rigid mold that had defined her all these years. She would have never done so without John.
“It’s difficult for me to believe that you love me.” She turned away, watching Charlie and Molly play together. Somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to look John in the eyes when she confessed to the depths of her feelings for him. “I have loved you, most unwilli
ngly, for some time now.”
John chuckled, taking her hands in his. “Only you could say it that way, Sid, and yet it gives me some hope. So, we return to my initial question. Will you marry me?”
Hannah hesitated one moment more. If she said no, and went back to all that she had known and had grown comfortable with, she would never see him again. In all likelihood, he would walk out of her life and never return. In her mind’s eye, she saw him turn his back and walk slowly away, and pangs of fear and regret shot through her. No, she didn’t understand why he loved her, or how. She could only trust that God was leading her on a new path, one that would allow her to grow in faith and love with a man who had driven her nigh to distraction for several months.
She lifted her gaze to his. He was staring down at her with such intensity that it made her knees a little weak. “Hannah?” he murmured.
“Yes, Reed. I want to marry you, and I will.”
*
A rush of exultation swept through John. He seized Sid and spun her around, laughing. “Darling Sid,” he cried, and then he kissed her with all the pent-up fervor of a man who had been given a second chance at life. Sid returned the embrace fully, not the least bit shy or timid about his passionate display.
He finally broke away, not because he wanted to, but to give them both a chance to take a deep breath. Sid gazed up at him with a swoony look in her large blue eyes that drove him nigh to distraction. “There are things I need to do now,” he began, giving himself a brisk mental shake to focus his thoughts. “I need to ask Daniel for your hand, to start.”
“Yes, of course.” Sid straightened and set herself away from him. She patted her coil of braids with her hand. “Do I look all right?”
“You look lovely, as always.” He reached out and touched her cheek. He could do that now. He no longer had to restrain himself, to distract himself, or otherwise busy himself when all he wanted to do was hold Sid. “Which reminds me, whatever happened with your own plan to make your own clothes?”
