“I love you, Gwynna,” he whispered into her hair, bringing fresh tears to her eyes. “I was a fool to even consider leaving you. I would live half a life without you by my side.”
Her thoughts raced. Was he…
She pulled back just enough to stare up into his eyes. “What be ye sayin’, Jack?”
He scoured every inch of her face, his eyes warm and entreating. “I’m saying I wish to marry you, my love. I wish to spend the rest of my life with you by my side, never more to part.”
Gwynna could hardly breathe. This couldn’t be. Jack could not be proposing. It was too wonderful to be true.
Her lips parted, a smile breaking through her tears. “But how…I thought…I thought ye didn’t want to marry a maiden? I thought that be why ye be leavin’ Cornwall?”
“No,” he said in a hush, brushing back the hair from her brow before replacing his hand at her waist. “No, that has never been my reasoning.” He paused, lowering his head with a sobered expression. “It is no secret that if you married me, your life would be marred with sacrifice. No matter how I might improve your livelihood, I could never ask you to give up so much.”
Like giving up her family?
Reality nudged its distressing way between her hope and happiness. How could she marry Jack if Papa didn’t approve? She’d never see her family again.
She pulled her hands from around his back, her grip slackening. “Jack, me father…he’ll never allow me to marry ye.”
Instead of worry flickering over his brow, his expression brightened.
She frowned. “Why be ye smilin’?”
“Because your father has already agreed to our marriage.”
Gwynna’s mouth opened in disbelief. How could Father have changed his mind so swiftly? Did Jack’s rescue of Papa and Gwynna both soften him?
“That can’t be. Are ye certain he gave ‘is blessin’?”
Jack pursed his lips in thought. “Well, it wasn’t so much of a blessing as it was a threat to treat you right…but it was an approval all the same.”
Gwynna blew out an astonished breath. That certainly sounded like something Papa would say. “How did ye convince ‘im? What did ye say?”
“I don’t believe his change had anything to do with what I said, and everything to do with how much he loves his daughter.”
She shook her head in awe, ready to burst with the joy that filled every inch of her. How blessed she was to have such a father.
Jack slipped his hands from her waist to hold her fingers in his. “Your father wishes for your happiness, Gwynna, as do I. The road before us will not be easy, if you do choose to marry me. But I can assure you that I will do everything within my power and beyond to ensure you have all the happiness you deserve.”
Gwynna stared up at him as he spoke, peace cradling her in a lullaby, as if the calm sea had enveloped her in its lilting waves and now swayed her to sleep.
“I know you must quit the mine if you marry,” he continued, somber. “And you must be hesitant to leave so much of your life and your friends behind. But we can work together to improve their lives, building proper shelters, mechanizing the bucking process, anything you advise. My father will certainly be anxious to hear your suggestions, as well.”
Nerves rippled down her stomach. She was overjoyed with Jack’s suggestion, but she hadn’t even considered Mr. Peter Trevethan. Was her employer truly going to be her father-in-law?
“Jack, what will your father think of ye marryin’ a maiden?”
He squeezed her hands, his brow slightly raised. “You needn’t worry about that. Father was the one who encouraged me to speak with you. He is quite pleased already with your ability to keep his son in Cornwall.”
Gwynna tried to process his words, but as Jack rushed on—and his thumbs smoothed circles across her knuckles—she found it difficult to concentrate very much on anything.
“As we both know,” he said, “others will not be as welcoming as my father. We will certainly be outsiders. Rumors will abound and judgments will flourish. But we will have our families and no doubt the Hawkinses to keep us company.”
They shared a smile. Gwynna could only imagine Sophia’s elation at no longer having to sneak Gwynna into balls and parties.
Jack placed her hands on his chest then slipped his arms around her, holding her close to him as he peered down at her. Gwynna fiddled with the undone buttons of his waistcoat, listening in a delirious dream as he painted the picture of their future together, each word more glorious than the next.
“I am certain others will come around to the idea of our marriage eventually. Until then, we needn’t attend any social gatherings unless you wish to. And you must banish the idea of altering anything about you. You must keep your Cornish tongue, your strength of a maiden, even your dress if you wish.” He winced, eying the tattered, faded brown fabric. “After all, it-it is lovely.”
Her laughter drifted out to the sea at his teasing.
He smiled in response. “Even if you can’t spall at the mine, I’ll purchase a hammer and a barrow of ore for you. You can practice any time you wish in the gardens of Coffrow Place.”
She laughed again at the image his words produced in her mind—a maiden dressed as a lady, spalling at a stately home. She’d certainly make a scene then.
“And we don’t have to live at Coffrow Place if you don’t wish to.” His words continued so swiftly, she had no chance to respond, his eyes alight with excitement. “We can live there or in a cottage by the sea. I would even build us a home near your parents’ house. Then I could become a miner. And I—”
“Jack.” She pressed a soft hand to his mouth. A tremor ran through her at the feel of his firm lips against her skin. “Ye’d be a terrible miner.”
He stared down at her in silence before laughter erupted deep in his chest. “You’re right about that.”
“Awful,” she said with an amused shake of her head. “But I don’t need ye to be a miner. And I don’t need ye to change for me. Ye already be the best man I could ask for…as me husband.”
His bright eyes shifted between hers. “So you will marry me?”
She held the sides of his opened waistcoat between her forefingers and thumbs. “So long as ye don’t be embarrassed when I don’t use the proper fork at dinner or when I spill me cherry tart on your fine clothes.”
“Never.”
She met his gaze, entranced with their dark brown depths. “I ain’t never goin’ to be a true lady, Jack. And I be fine with that now. But…will ye be happy bein’ married to just a bal maiden?”
“Just a bal maiden?” He shook his head, cupping one side of her face with his hand. “Gwynna, you are fierce when facing adversity. You forgive and encourage and love better than anyone I’ve ever known. And you are a loyal and devoted daughter and sister.”
Her chin quivered at the tenderness with which he spoke.
His own eyes glistened with unshed emotion, and his voice broke. “My mother would have loved you. And she would have been more than proud to call you her daughter.”
Her breath caught in her throat, and she leaned into his hand, closing her eyes until he spoke again.
“I do not need you to be a lady. I do not even need Miss Joanna Bell.” He smiled, wiping the tear trailing down her cheek with his thumb. “I need you, Gwynna Merrick. And if you are just a bal maiden, that is more than enough for me.”
Their eyes met, and Gwynna’s chest swelled with love to the point of bursting. Slowly, she slid her right hand up his waistcoat and along the side of his neck. He closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath as she weaved her fingers through his hair.
“Yes, Jack,” she whispered, her other hand caressing the sleek corner of his jaw. “I will marry ye.”
Gwynna hardly had time to draw in a breath before Jack’s lips found hers. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his body in a firm embrace.
She kissed him in return, tipping her head to the side as their mouth
s moved as one. She reached up on her toes, wrapping her arms around his neck. He pulled her close, lifting her feet off the ground and swinging her around in circles until she broke from his lips with a laugh.
“Jack! Ye be goin’ to toss us off the side o’ the cliff!”
He laughed in return, stopping as he settled her feet on the pathway. He leaned down, placing another firm, stirring kiss on her lips.
“May I request one thing from you,” he asked mumbling against her mouth, “now that you’ve agreed to marry me?”
She pulled back, lacing her fingers behind his neck. “What be that then? Learn to read?”
“No. Merely a simple request to never attempt an upper class accent again. Yours is abysmal.”
Her mouth dropped open with feigned dismay. “I ain’t be that bad at cuttin’ it up, sir. ‘Sides, I’d wager ye’d be just as awful doin’ a fitty Cornish accent.”
“Oh, no. That be more ‘an easy, ye know.” He spoke each word as if it was too long to fit in his mouth.
She laughed, shaking her head. “That be awful.”
He chuckled. “Then we shall work on both of them together, yes?”
She sighed, perusing every inch of his face with eyes she knew reflected the love in his own. “Together. I do like the sound o’ that.”
And when their lips met again, the word was sealed between them with love and abiding happiness. For when they were together, life didn’t seem so difficult after all.
Epilogue
Gwynna stretched her arms out over her head with a deep, contented sigh. She couldn’t remember having ever had a more peaceful night’s rest. Her pillow was far more comfortable than she recalled. And the mattress.
Her eyes fluttered open, welcomed by the sight of cream and green colored bed hangings draped above her and light peeking in from a large window nearby.
This wasn’t her room.
With a gasp, she sat upright. The bed bounced up and down as she eyed the marble hearth, oak wardrobe, and floral tapestry along the smooth, wooden flooring.
“What is it?” mumbled a voice from beside her.
Gwynna whirled around, facing Jack as he blinked dazedly, still lying on the bed.
Jack. They were in his house. Their house. Her heart thumped for a different reason as she eyed his bare torso. His physique flexed as he ran his fingers through his ruffled hair.
“Are you well?” he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“Yes. I didn’t mean to wake ye. I just…forgot where I be.”
He smiled, propping his hand beneath his head. “Well I hope you aren’t too disappointed.”
She followed the curve of his smile with her eyes. “I be anythin’ but disappointed to be with ye, Jack.”
He stretched his arms toward her, and she responded to his beckon in an instant. Resting on his shoulder, she nuzzled her nose into his neck with a contented sigh.
“Did you sleep well?” Jack asked, kissing the top of her head.
“Lyin’ in bed with me new husband? How could I not?”
He hummed in approval to her response.
She rested her hand on his chest, holding still as his heart tapped against his palm.
Her new husband.
She never thought the day would come. After the bans had finally been read, Gwynna and Jack were brought together under the bonds of matrimony only the day before at a wedding that far exceeded their expectations.
She and Jack had predicted a small affair with very little support, but the church had been filled to its capacity with both classes. Mama was there with cheerful smiles, and even Papa had managed a congratulatory nod toward Jack, a promise of an improved future between them.
The others in attendance had cast lingering, curious glances toward the bride and groom, but most of them ended the ceremony with well-wishes for the couple. Sophia had continually wiped away her never-ending stream of tears—“I am just so pleased for you both!”—and even Kerensa, whom Gwynna had told everything to a few days before, was there to share in Gwynna’s joy.
“So, now that ye be a lady,” Kerensa had said with a teasing smile, “will ye be dressin’ I up in fitty gowns to find me a gent?”
They’d shared a laugh, and Gwynna had promised to her best in that regard. Though she didn’t think another gentleman existed like Jack. He was an anomaly. A wonderful, charming, devilishly attractive anomaly.
She traced her finger down the contours of his chest, smiling to herself at the blessing she had to call Jack her own.
“What would you like to do today, my love?” Jack asked.
She moved her head back along his arm, studying the shadow of facial hair that had grown overnight across his chin and jawline. “Have ye any suggestions?”
He thought for a moment. “We could visit the mine with Father. I believe he will be overseeing the construction of the shelters you’ve suggested.”
Excitement fluttered in her stomach. Mr. Trevethan had listened to every word she’d said about what was needed at the mine and saw to their fruition almost instantly.
She still couldn’t fathom the kindness he’d continually shown her.
“I will forever be indebted to you for bringing my son back home, Gwynna,” he’d said, pulling her aside after the wedding. “You are a remarkable woman. Now you keep giving me those improvements for the mine, and I’ll make you my top advisor.”
He’d finished with a wink, but Gwynna had seen the truth in his eyes. She would continue to suggest improvements. Her parents and friends at the mine had helped her their whole lives. Now it was time she returned the favor in a way they’d be happy to accept.
“Or,” Jack said, drawing her attention back to him, “if you’d rather not consider working at all today, we could take a walk by the sea. Go into town. Call upon the Hawkinses or your parents, as your father is still home with his injury. Whatever pleases you.”
Gwynna smiled. “I say we do all of it…Although, I’d be quite content sittin’ in bed all day and doin’ absolutely nothin’.”
“That does sound tempting.” Jack slipped his arm out from behind her, propping his fist under his head as he rested on his elbow. “Although…not as tempting as something else I had in mind.”
A sly smile slipped across his lips. Gwynna’s breathing hitched as he leaned toward her, placing his free hand along her jaw and pressing a warm kiss to her lips. A deep, contented sigh escaped her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer so his affection might never end.
* * *
Jack had never experienced such joy than he had the last few weeks he’d spent in Gwynna’s company. He never knew such happiness, such a love could exist. How grateful he was to have her in his life.
After pulling themselves out of bed and away from Coffrow Place, they spent the day together, making calls, visiting family, and simply enjoying each other’s company.
But Jack’s favorite moment of the day was now, as they stood on the cliffside overlooking the sea, enjoying the last of the summer sunsets. From their viewpoint, Penharrow stood far in the north, and Wheal Favour, a distant shadow in the south.
The early autumn wind trailed its long fingers across the sky, creating wispy clouds above the horizon that was tinted a soft orange. A long stretch of gray clouds settled just above the sea, hiding half the sun as it took its final dip into the tranquil waves.
Gwynna sighed beside him, a soft smile on her lips. Gone was her brown, tattered dress, replaced instead with a light blue that flowed softly in the wind. A navy blue ribbon—a simple gift he’d given her before their wedding—weaved throughout her curls at the crown of her head. He was happy to see her without that rag holding her hair back, though he smiled at the memory of it.
He moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her middle and resting his chin on her shoulder. “Are you happy, my love?”
She leaned into his embrace, resting her head against his. “Yes. More so than ever before.”
�
��Is that because you didn’t have to spall today?”
Her cheek moved against his as she smiled. “Per’aps.” She twisted around in his arms, sliding her hands around him and encircling his waist. “Or per’aps it be due to the love I ‘ave with ye.”
The sun lit the golden flecks in her amber eyes, glinting like copper. “Then that is well with me,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her brow. “For there is nothing more I wish for than to make you happy.”
“Ye do, Jack. Ye do make me ‘appy.”
He held her tighter. “And you will stay just as happy? You will be able to withstand the world before us, no matter the trials that come?”
She grinned. “Ye know me, Jack. I can handle anythin’. As me father says, ain’t nobody stronger than a miner’s daugh’er.”
Jack tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “Or a bal maiden?”
“Just so,” she said, resting against his chest. “And with ye, I can do anythin’.”
They held each other in a soft embrace, the shadows of Penharrow and Wheal Favour standing as faraway sentinels for them both, keeping watch over the outside world as Jack and Gwynna faced the setting sun together, no longer afraid of what the future held.
Thank heavens the bal maiden had fallen in love with the mine owner’s son.
THE END
Other Titles by Deborah M. Hathaway
Stand Alone Novels
A Secret Fire
When Two Rivers Meet
To Warm a Wintered Heart
A Cornish Romance Series
On the Shores of Tregalwen, a Novella
Behind the Light of Golowduyn, Book One
For the Lady of Lowena, Book Two
Near the Ruins of Penharrow, Book Three
Belles of Christmas Multi-Series
Nine Ladies Dancing, Book Three
Author’s Note
While there is not a great deal of information on bal maidens during the early 1800s, I did my best to accurately research their fascinating lives. I really could fill the next hundred pages or so with the inspiring stories I’ve learned about these remarkable women, but I promise to keep it short. (Short for me, at least.)
Near the Ruins of Penharrow (A Cornish Romance Book 3) Page 28
