by Sue London
Chapter Fourteen
Teddy hadn't known what to expect when she sent over the peony this morning, but it certainly hadn't been to see Arthur Graham riding into their yard. He usually only came with his mother in a carriage. Now here he was by himself. She pulled her drapes shut and spun around.
"Pellinore, I can't wear this."
The cat stopped his grooming as though her outburst deserved some thought, then resumed as though her concerns had been dismissed. She looked frantically through her dresses for something better than this dowdy morning dress, that was fashionable enough to be seen and not overly wrinkled. The task looked impossible. And something she could don by herself, since who knew where Bernice might be! Truly, it was impossible! Her fingers encountered the soft muslin of her coming out dress. She hadn't worn it in years. Pulling it out, she shook it to see how wrinkled it might be. Surprisingly, it was still as clean and tidy as if it had been freshly laundered. The nearly white muslin with a high waist hadn't gone particularly out of vogue. She could tie a ribbon at the waist to bring some color to it. It was decided. She wriggled out of her day dress and into the muslin. It was a bit tighter than she recalled, but otherwise perfectly lovely. She only had two wide, long ribbons to choose between. Pink and blue. She chose the pink one to echo the color of the peony. For a moment she felt silly and considered changing to the blue, but stopped herself.
"Oh, Pellinore! My hair!"
The cat gave her a superior stare as though he had been waiting for her to think of it. She brushed out her braids and quickly pinned it up, checking for stray hairs with her tiny mirror. A knock sounded at her door.
"Teddy, dear." Her mother. "Mr. Arthur Graham is here to see you."
Teddy rushed to the door and pulled it open. Her mother was looking at her curiously. When younger, Teddy had spoken of her affection for Arthur, but it had been some time since she had mentioned it. After a few minutes of peering with what Mrs. Minett called her 'mother eyes', she pinched Teddy's cheeks to bring out her blush.
"You'd best go see what he wants."
Teddy wasn't sure if she wanted to rush down the steps, or run out of the house in the other direction. She forced herself to walk down at a sedate pace. Arthur was standing in the front hall holding his hat and still wearing his coat, but turned when he heard her footsteps. He looked at her with such warmth that the light, gauzy dress felt like it had fallen away and she was naked before his eyes. It was disconcerting, but also oddly powerful. As though she were Venus stepping off the waves. Then he suddenly turned to sneeze violently into the crook of his arm.
She rushed down the remaining steps. "Oh, Arthur! I shouldn't have kept your coat yesterday."
He held his hand up for a moment, clearly thinking he was going to sneeze again. When the feeling passed he shook his head at her. "It is my own fault. I should have waited at the teahouse for the carriage to return rather than walking home."
"You should have stayed home in bed today, with tea and soup."
"I had to see you."
A tiny bit of hope unfurled in her heart, like the first bud poking up past the frost in spring. He had carved her a garden to count the days since their kiss, he was here, and he was looking at her as though she were the only woman in the world. She would cling to this new hope.
***
Arthur thought that Teddy had never looked more beautiful, but her eyes had a sad, haunted expression that worried him.
"Let me take your coat," she said, reaching up.
"Are you inviting me to stay?"
"Of course."
He relished the tone of surprise, as though it could never occur to her that he wouldn't be welcome.
"I can hang up the coat. We don't want any mud on your dress."
He hung his hat and borrowed coat next to the one she had worn home yesterday. She motioned him into a nearby room.
Once they were settled she said, "Bernice will bring tea in shortly."
The feeling between them was strangely awkward and tense, and he wasn't sure how to remedy it. He had taken tea in this room many times with his mother. Teddy always sat where she did now, on the side of the sofa closest to the window. And he in this very chair, close enough that they would murmur pleasantries when passing plates. At those teas she had always kept her gaze lowered. He had perhaps mistaken her for a mild and retiring miss because of it. Certainly not the type of woman who would charge Grant Kellen in a city street for insulting her. But if he had missed that about her, what else had he missed? She didn't have her gaze lowered now. She sat looking at him quietly, her hands folded in her lap. He didn't know what else to do, so he came directly to the point.
"I wish I could offer for you."
"Why can't you?" she countered.
He had always judged her innocent of the ways of the world, and this was certainly testimony to it. Most women of their class would already know precisely what he was worth. "I can't afford it."
"That makes no sense. Look at you. Your coat alone probably cost more than all the clothes I've ever bought."
He looked down at the superfine. "That's quite likely. But a house costs considerably more than a coat, even a fine one."
"I might inherit this house." He heard a warble in her voice that made him feel awful. As though he were making a baby bird fly days before it was ready.
"You might," he agreed. "Where would we live until then? Do you wish to be underfoot of your parents? Or mine?"
She opened her mouth as though to argue with him, then shut it again. A single tear rolled down her cheek and undid him.
He knelt in front of her, taking her hands. "Please don't cry, Teddy. I can't bear it."
"But you can bear telling me that we won't marry because you have no money?"
"The practicality of--"
"Dash your practicality," she said, shoving him back so she could rise.
"Teddy, please don't."
"Don't what?" she challenged him. "Walk away? Why not? What have you done to make me stay?"
"Tell me what to do," he said.
Chapter Fifteen
Teddy could see her own misery reflected in Arthur's eyes. "Certainly we can find some solution, if we only try. You have your carving and I can sew and paint."
"You mean go into trade?" His tone sounded as though she had suggested parading naked through the center of town.
"That's what people typically do for money, isn't it? Work?"
"Gentlemen don't work," he said darkly.
She folded her arms. "Clearly not."
He finally rose from his knees and now she was looking up to meet his gaze instead of down. "Teddy, I don't think you realize what would happen."
"Like what?"
"We would be ostracized from our own class. There would be no invitations to assemblies or social calls."
"That hardly seems an imposition."
"We would never again be invited to serve on the Jack Valentine committee."
Teddy walked over to the window to look out on the front garden, fallow under the winter snow. "I only volunteered to see you." A secret that Pellinore had kept for her all these years. She did enjoy Jack Valentine, it was a lovely tradition. But if it hadn't been for Arthur Graham then she wouldn't have volunteered more than once.
That was the issue, wasn't it? She would lose nothing, but everything he'd listed had been Arthur's life. His mother was older sister of a duke, and her children were raised to be scions of Society. While Teddy had only ever been on the very edges of polite society here in Aylsham, Arthur had traveled. He knew not just Norwich, but London and Bath. And people there knew him. Of course he needed coats that cost more than her entire wardrobe, because among the circles he frequented even his fancy coat might be judged harshly if it were a moment out of fashion. Certainly he'd needed a wardrobe that lasted better than a fortnight when he went to a house party last summer. She had been foolish to think that she was even truly in his class, much less that she could marry him. She felt tha
t tiny bud of hope buried under a killing frost.
"Teddy," Arthur's voice was subdued. "Yesterday you said that someone broke your heart. May I ask who it was?"
When she turned to look at him she couldn't keep the tears from flowing.
***
Sweet Lord, it had been him. She didn't even need to say it when her luminous brown eyes were so tortured. How? When? What had he done? If it had been some other blackguard then he could at least have the satisfaction of thrashing the man. But how did he fix this? Promise her things that he couldn't fulfill? Perhaps she didn't realize it now, but she would chafe under the same roof as either of their parents once she was a married woman. He'd spent enough time contemplating just such an eventuality that he knew the pitfalls.
"Please, Teddy, tell me what I can do to make this right."
She turned back to the window. "Don't forget to take your other coat. Thank you for letting me borrow it."
No, this would not be the end of their conversation. Not with her miserable and him feeling like his heart had been filleted by a deft hand. Perhaps he couldn't provide for her as she needed, but he loved her and couldn't stand the thought of her suffering. But if she thought love alone provided a good life, then she needed to be disabused of it.
"What did you imagine our marriage would entail, Teddy?" He couldn't keep the frustrated and bitter edge from his voice.
She turned around again as though she couldn't believe he was still talking to her. "I imagined it would entail you and I being married, Arthur!"
"And you never thought past that? Where we would live? How we would eat?"
"I assumed we could figure that out!"
"That's the sort of thinking that leads to cold nights and hungry bellies."
Her laughter was hollow. "Yes, I suppose that's something you've never experienced."
Had she? Had this sweet little nymph lain here at night hungry and cold because they had no money for coal or food? He had an overwhelming instinct to bundle her up and run away with her. Certainly he could do no worse than her parents if she were already familiar with such privations. Was that why so many of their children had died young? Had none of them been hardy enough to survive a hardscrabble life clinging to the edge of respectability? He sneezed again and remembered that Teddy had been nearly an icicle when arriving at his home, yet hadn't caught cold.
"Bless you," she said begrudgingly.
"With your leave, I'll speak to your father."
"About what?" she asked, confused.
"Your hand in marriage."
"But," she looked at him curiously, "you've just spent half an hour telling me how that wasn't possible."
"And you spent the same half hour telling me how it was."
"You're making no sense, Arthur."
He walked over to kiss the top of her head and echoed her own words back to her. "I'll assume we can figure it out."
Chapter Sixteen
Teddy was confused. It felt a strange and hollow victory, if it was indeed a victory. They had argued, she had accused him of never facing hunger, and it seemed to have changed his convictions entirely. Was it possible to think she loved the man when she didn't even know him well enough to understand the workings of his mind? And then he threw her own words back at her, about figuring it out. It was, quite honestly, infuriating. But her parents had been thrilled that he asked permission to ask for her hand. Something he technically had not done yet. After speaking to her father he left the house, and now two days had passed. Days when, granted, she had received a tiny package each day with a new carved flower enclosed. The second day she had made the Graham's footman wait while she fetched another painted flower to send back to him. A bright yellow calendula. She loved that he seemed determined to carve every flower one could find in a cottage garden. Would they live in a cottage? That tiny bud of hope was rallying. She would love to live in a cottage with Arthur and Pellinore. A tiny place all their own, with ivy growing on the wall and the scent of fresh herbs blowing in the summer breeze. She was lost happily in her daydream when she heard a carriage arriving. Peering out the window she recognized it as the Graham's. Was Lady Graham coming to a visit? Goodness, she was hardly presentable. But when it came to a stop only Arthur stepped out. Why a carriage? She ventured downstairs to find out.
This time, rather than being scarce for his arrival, her parents were already entertaining Artie. He stood when she entered the room, smiling warmly at her. "Good morning."
"Good morning," she replied, feeling awkward.
"I've asked your father's permission to take you into town."
"Oh?"
"You might want to dress warmly."
Her parents were still smiling like loons so she excused herself to scurry upstairs and dress for this trip, whatever it was. She chose the blue walking dress, even though the small smear of Arthur's blood still hadn't been completely blotted out. But it was her warmest and somehow she had developed a sentimental affection for it.
Arthur escorted her to the carriage and helped her board. Once inside, he sat across from her.
"We aren't officially engaged yet, are we?" she asked.
"No. I thought it best if you could see what I have to offer you before you make that decision."
"Are you hoping to scare me off, Mr. Graham?"
"I prefer it when you call me Artie or Arthur."
"Fine. Are you trying to scare me, Artie?"
"I'm sure I have no idea what scares you."
She smiled. "That's not true."
"Spiders?" he hazarded.
"And people. People probably more than spiders."
"I don't know, I remember how you screamed when you found that spider nest."
"Then Bernie kept putting them in my bed. It was either make friends with spiders or give my brother the satisfaction of screaming every morning."
"That's horrible."
"He had a horrible sense of humor. Fortunately Pellinore would eat them."
Artie was quiet for a few moments, simply looking at her. Finally he said, "Do you mind if I sit next to you?"
"Of course not." She scooted a touch more to the side so he could settle onto the bench beside her. He didn't seem inclined to lean away, and she felt his warmth all along her side. He took her hand and laced their fingers together. The reviving buds in her heart were beginning to bloom.
***
Artie didn't want to ruin the surprise, so stayed quiet and simply enjoyed the feel of his sweet Teddy beside him. Her small hand was soft and warm in his own. He had argued for practicalities and she had argued for faith. He hoped between the two of them they might have enough of both to make a go of things. But first he had to make sure she agreed with his plans.
The carriage rolled to a stop on one of the main streets of Aylsham. He stepped out and held his hands up to assist Teddy. She paused on the top step to look around. "We're near the Market Place," she said, referring to the square that had been a popular open market since the middle ages.
"Yes we are," he agreed.
She finally stepped down and looked around the street. He took out his keys and opened the door to the deserted shop they had stopped in front of. She followed him inside.
"You bought a shop? What did you do, sell a coat?"
"Aren't you funny! Bernie wasn't the only one with a horrible sense of humor, I see."
Her lips twitched. "All right, I'm being horrible. Why are we in this shop?"
He took her hands, enjoying the feel of her soft skin. "After I spoke to your father, I went home to speak to my mother. It seems you weren't the only one thinking that I should consider trying my hand at the trades."
"Your mother?"
"She bought this shop some years ago when the original heirs hadn't wanted it. When the last tenant moved out she didn't look for another one because she thought I might eventually want it. She was planning to will it to me."
"Your mother owns property?"
"A duke's daughter feels entitled
to do many things that mere mortals might not."
Teddy looked around the space with more curiosity. "So this is yours now?"
"She gave me the keys yesterday, but there are still proper papers to be filed."
"I always did like Lady Graham."
"It seems she always liked you too. She admitted to me that she and Reeves have been plotting since the moment you showed up alone at the door asking for me."
"I wasn't alone, I brought Bernice."
"Would you like to see the quarters upstairs?"
"Living quarters? Of course."
Chapter Seventeen
The shop was dusty, but had lovely woodwork. She couldn't quite decide what might have been here before. Perhaps a milliner? There were still some large tables for display of merchandise and a glass cabinet. It had a great deal of potential. She followed Artie through a door he unlocked with his keys and up some stairs. The quarters upstairs didn't have as much ornate woodwork as the shop below did, but it looked to be well-built and free of drafts. Because of her home she was well acquainted with the issues that could plague a house when it came to drips and drafts. There was some furniture under covers. Artie was quiet, so she ventured out to explore. A parlor with two front facing windows and two bedrooms that looked out into the alley behind. One chimney ran up the center of the building from the shop and there was a hearth in the parlor, another in the larger bedroom.
"No kitchen?" she asked.
"Unfortunately, no. We would be dependent on the tea and coffee houses."
She smiled. "Just as well, I suppose, as I don't really know how to cook."
"That's a sad way to starve," he said.
"It would be," she agreed.
"So this is it," he said. "It's all I have, although a great deal more than I thought to be able to offer you."
