by Lori Wick
“What’s that?”
“How will you ever top it?”
The adults were chuckling over this when the children joined them, their reaction all that Jennings could have hoped for.
Within minutes the girls were begging for a ride, and Frank and Walt were talking of getting their own mounts so the four of them could be off.
“Thank you,” James said for the fifth time, his eyes telling of his wonder and pleasure.
“You’re welcome,” Jennings told him, but he could have thanked the child right back. He was learning that giving presents to these children was like giving a gift to himself. But it was more than that: He felt a little more like a father every day.
Chapter Seventeen
There had been a change in plans. The first idea had been to go directly to Morehouse and then on to an outing that included sea bathing. But the weather had turned very warm, so when Marianne left with the Jennings family two weeks later, their first destination was the sea.
“I should have spoken to you about this before we left,” Jennings said to Marianne from across the carriage some thirty minutes into their ride, “but I thought the boys and I would share a room, and if you don’t mind, Penny can be in with you. Megan is along if you’d rather not.”
Marianne could feel Penny’s eyes on her as she answered.
“Share a room with Penny?” she sounded doubtful. “Does she snore very loudly?” Marianne looked down at the little girl beside her as soon as this was said and smiled. Penny laid her head against Marianne’s arm and stared up at her with all the adoration she felt.
“I think we’ll do fine together.”
“Penny would fit on our bed,” Thomas added, doing a little teasing of his own.
“I’ll be smashed,” Penny said, her face comical as her head came up.
“It might be cozy.”
Penny frowned at him. “I want to be in with Marianne.”
“And so you shall,” Jennings said. “Thomas is only teasing.”
Penny still frowned at her brother.
“You’ve no reason to be so sensitive, Penny,” Jennings went on mildly. “It’s all right.”
Penny took the rebuke well, her face relaxing. Marianne, not wanting to be a part of family discipline, had turned to the window. It had been years since she’d been to Bristol and beyond, and she found she was looking forward to it. The scenery varied from that at home, which made it interesting.
If she felt a bit odd about being with Mr Jennings and his children, she did her best to hide it. The children were so excited, and she was finding Mr Jennings most solicitous. What the days at the sea would bring, as well as those at Morehouse, was impossible to predict, but Marianne was determined to give the others a good time.
For a moment Marianne thought about the past week. One evening she had ended up at Tipton when Jennings and the children had been there. After supper the four adults had sat talking over coffee. It was at that time that Jennings shared some of what his thoughts had been prior to his visit to Palmer the morning he was saved.
“I felt almost a fearful peace. It makes no sense when I say it, but that’s the best way to describe my mind that night. I knew that something had to change between God and me, and that made me afraid, but I was confident and peaceful that Palmer would have answers.
“At the same time I wondered if I’d waited too long. I don’t think God waits forever, and maybe He was tired of my stiff neck. The children were so confident. I’d heard them pray a few times, and such trust seemed beyond me, but then I prayed and told God how much I needed Him, and I know He heard me.”
“Look at the horses!” James suddenly exclaimed.
Everyone crowded to the left side of the carriage to see a small herd of horses running hard through the fields.
“I think my horse will miss me,” James said a bit wistfully when they all sat back.
“It’s not long that we’ll be gone, James,” Marianne said compassionately.
“You can make up for the absence by going for a long ride when we return,” Jennings suggested. “You might even find the weather more suited when we get home.”
With that everyone fell quiet. It was warm in the carriage, but the cool sea breezes awaited them. For a time, each one was left alone with his or her thoughts.
“There was a softening in you, Jennings.” Waiting downstairs at the inn for the gentlemen to join them, Marianne found herself remembering back again. “Even before you came over to see Palmer that morning, you had started to change.”
“I think you must be right, Lydia. I had been inhospitable to Miss Walker,” Jennings said with a glance in Marianne’s direction. “Six months prior to that time I would have thought nothing of it, but this time I knew I had to speak with her.”
“And did you?” Palmer asked.
“Yes. She was very gracious and even took me at my word and visited the children.”
“That was all before I knew they were going to send me through the maze,” Marianne put in, her voice light.
“Did they really?” Lydia asked on a laugh.
“Yes. I’d still be in there if a little help hadn’t materialized.”
“Who helped you?”
Jennings and Marianne exchanged a look on that question, but neither one answered.
“How is your room?” Jennings asked Marianne, snapping her from her reverie.
“Our room is fine, isn’t it, Penny?” Marianne addressed the little girl beside her.
“Yes. We have a bed.”
“Good!” Jennings said with a smile down at her. He took note of the fact that her face looked freshly washed and her hair newly combed, and realized the little girl was certainly rooming with the right person.
“How did you fare with the boys?” Marianne asked.
“We’re quite comfortable ourselves. They’re coming behind me with plans to walk to the water. Does that suit you?”
“That suits me very well,” Marianne told him.
Are you always so sweet? Jennings asked her in his mind, his eyes on her face. Have you always been so ready to see to others’ needs, or did you learn over time?
The question was especially close to Jennings’ heart just now because he found himself weary at times. It had never once occurred to him that parenting was a full-time venture. With preparing for the children’s birthday and getting ready for this trip, he felt as though he’d had no free time in weeks.
“We have a map,” Thomas said triumphantly, waving it over his head as both boys joined the group.
“Are we sea bathing now?” Penny wished to know.
“Not until tomorrow, Penny,” Jennings decided with a moment’s thought. It wasn’t that long to supper. “Shall we be off for a walk on the beach?”
“I’ll lead the way,” James offered, but Thomas reminded him that he had the map.
A “discussion” followed this interchange, and Jennings had to intervene.
“Let’s not start our holiday with an argument,” he ended the quiet speech he gave the boys. Both knew they were being selfish and agreed to study the map together.
“It was unfortunate you had to witness that,” Jennings said for Marianne’s ears alone as they walked from the inn. “They’re usually better behaved.”
“That’s true, but they’re still human.”
That statement proved to be very true just five minutes later when the boys got somewhat turned around and Jennings ended up studying the map.
“Human,” he whispered to Marianne with a smile as he lifted Penny onto his arm, his body turned at an angle so he could offer a hand to Marianne for the short walk down the stairs to the sand.
At last they were on the beach. Marianne tied Penny’s bonnet a bit tighter and urged James to button his coat, and then they were off. Many families, couples, and singles were out on this fine day, and Jennings and Marianne walked slowly as the children explored and led the way.
“You have been to the beach before?
” Jennings inquired.
“Not for years. I’d forgotten the scents that come on the wind.”
“Some more memorable than we’d like,” Jennings uttered quietly as he took Marianne’s arm to navigate her around a dead fish, causing her to laugh.
“Oh, look at the kite!” Marianne suddenly cried—even the children heard her—and all five of them stopped to watch the object already high in the air.
From there the group observed the last of the sea bathers and the last trips for the bathing machines. Marianne had never seen such contraptions, and Thomas explained how the covered, wheeled carts that were pulled by horses or donkeys worked.
“You can rent a bathing costume or take your own inside. It’s very private, and while the cart goes to the water, you change. Once changed, you open the door and go directly into the sea. When you climb back in for the ride up to the beach, you change back again.”
“That’s marvelous!” Marianne was enchanted. “Will Penny and I both fit in one bathing machine?”
“Certainly.”
“What if I don’t swim well?”
“They don’t go out very deep, so you’ll just remain close to the bathing machine.”
“Do you swim at all?” Jennings asked, concern showing in his face and tone.
“I do a little, but as I said, it’s been many years.”
The concern did not leave Jennings’ face, and Marianne did not want to spoil the outing.
“I’ll just see that Penny gets into the water,” she said, landing on an idea and voicing it with excitement. “How would that be?”
“No!” the children began to protest, wanting her along.
“I’ll tell you what,” Jennings cut in. “Miss Walker and I will discuss it and come up with the best plan.”
It was not what the children wanted to hear—they wanted Marianne to enjoy the water as they did—but they let the matter drop.
“I’m hungry,” James suddenly announced, and Penny took no time to tell of her empty stomach as well.
Thinking that they had all of tomorrow to enjoy the beach, Jennings pragmatically ushered the group back the way they’d come. Once at the inn they took time to freshen up, planning to meet in the dining room for supper.
Jennings was almost to his room with the boys when a housekeeper stopped him.
“Mr Jennings, does Mrs Jennings need some extra towels?”
“It’s Miss Walker,” he corrected her kindly, “and why don’t you check with her in her room down the hall?”
“Oh!” the maid responded with a start. Clearly embarrassed, she moved quickly on her way.
Jennings turned back to use the key to his door and found two sets of eyes watching him.
“It’s a logical mistake, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” James agreed. “And now it’s easier to understand why Penny wanted you to marry Marianne. I never noticed it before, but you already look like you’re married.”
Jennings was heartily surprised by this, and his face showed it.
“James meant no disrespect, sir,” Thomas put in.
“Thank you, Thomas. I was not offended, just unaware. I would wish to be very careful of Miss Walker’s reputation, and I hope we haven’t given the wrong picture.”
Looking old beyond their years, the boys nodded, and Jennings finally opened the door. They made their preparations to go back downstairs with few words exchanged, but all minds were moving. Each one was thinking on the conversation from the hallway.
“I don’t have to swim. I would be happy to watch.”
“We arrived at the end of the day today,” Jennings reasoned with her. “It will be very warm tomorrow, and you’ll want to cool off.
“Here is what we’ll do,” Jennings continued, using the voice that was hard to argue with. “I’ll come over to you as soon as the door to your bathing machine opens.”
“I can stay in the shallow part so you can play with the children.”
“You could still drown, and I won’t risk it.”
Marianne frowned at him, and since he was clearly intent on having his way, Jennings looked right back, his face calm.
At the same moment, they remembered they had an audience. The public room was nearly empty, but three other people shared their table. They turned to look at the children, who were all watching them with unabashed curiosity.
“Thomas,” Jennings began, “if you’re finished, why don’t you, James, and Penny take a walk out front?”
“All right.”
“Are they married now?” Penny asked Thomas as he took her from her chair.
He hushed her and rushed away but did see her point. Jennings and Marianne had acted and looked like an old married couple while having their debate.
Jennings watched the threesome on their way, and when he looked back at Marianne, he could see she was hiding laughter.
“Penny’s remark?”
“Yes. I find her amusing—so guileless in her curiosity.”
Jennings took a slow drink of his coffee. Marianne was not looking at him, but he watched her over the rim of his cup.
“You look lovely tonight,” he said as he set the cup back down.
“Thank you,” Marianne said with a shy duck of her head.
“The children and I, not to mention your family, would never get over it if something happened to you. I’ve no cruel intentions of embarrassing you or tarnishing your reputation further, but I must make certain you don’t drown.”
Marianne looked into his eyes.
“Has my reputation been harmed?”
“At least one of the maids thought we were married. I’m sure our walk last evening helped her form that conclusion.”
“I could be the children’s nanny,” Marianne suggested.
“Not dressed as you are and walking by my side.”
“True.”
“And even now, I’ve sent the children away from the table. At least having them with us does not suggest that you’re here alone with me.”
“I’ll go out with them,” Marianne said immediately and began to rise.
“All right. Are we settled on the matter of sea bathing?”
“I think so, but I don’t believe I would have come if I thought I was going to be such trouble.”
Marianne exited before Jennings could reply. He understood how she could feel that way, but sea bathing was just one small aspect of the entire trip. He was surprised that she didn’t realize how much she was needed.
Marianne kept her focus on the little girl with her. She had changed into her bathing costume, and while it covered her from head to foot, a woman was very self-conscious when not wearing a corset in a man’s presence, and she knew as soon as the door opened that Mr Jennings would be there.
“All right, ladies,” the driver said from outside their shuttered window just after the bathing machine came to a stop.
Penny lit up like a candle upon hearing the man’s words and reached for the door. Marianne, not quite certain what to expect, watched as she swung the door open and jumped.
“Penny!” Marianne came swiftly after her.
“She’s fine.” The deep voice of Mr Jennings came to her ears just as his hand took hers. “Are you going to jump?” he asked.
“Are the children all right?” Marianne questioned, looking anxiously beyond him.
“Swimming like fish. Shall we join them?”
Marianne forced herself to step out into the water.
“Oh!” she couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped her when the cool water soaked through to her skin.
“Are you all right?” Jennings asked, still holding her hand.
“It’s a bit cool.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” he said, a twinkle in his eyes. “Here we go!”
Marianne was wading in water only up to her knees at this point, and she walked along to the children who were already wet from head to foot. They were delighted that she joined them, and in no time at all, she was v
ery wet herself.
What followed were two glorious hours of swimming and playing in the water. Marianne didn’t know when she’d had such fun. She spent most of her time sitting on the sea floor, water nearly to her neck, and laughing at the antics of the children. Mr Jennings proved to be a fine swimmer, and at one point he and Thomas struck out in a race. Jennings had the advantage and won easily, but he let Thomas hang on his back for part of the return trip.
When the children showed signs of becoming waterlogged, everyone changed and sought refreshments from among the stands on the beach. All a little drowsy, they took their time at a seaside table for five.
“Will we go to Morehouse tomorrow?” Thomas asked.
“We can, or do you wish for one more day at the sea?”
To Marianne’s surprise Penny and James did not immediately vote to stay. They were quiet as they relished their drinks and biscuits.
“I think I’d like to go tomorrow,” Thomas said. “Will we have time to stay a few days?”
“We can stay, Thomas. And if you feel an extended visit is necessary, you just speak to me.”
“Thank you, sir.”
They ate and talked for more than an hour. It was a slow time without interruptions or schedules to keep. Eventually they changed again and went back into the water and then back to the hotel for supper, but it was a day in which forever after James would say that time stood still; minutes had stretched into hours and hours felt like days.
By the time they reached their rooms to retire for the night, Jennings was so drowsy he could barely ready himself for bed. He was sitting on the side of the bed and staring at nothing when someone knocked on the door.
“Mr Jennings?” The innkeeper himself stood outside.
“Yes.”
“A lady asked me to give you this,” he said, pushing a paper toward him. “She’s down by the fire, ’oping to see you.”
Jennings pulled a coin from his pocket, thanked the man, and then closed the door.
The boys watched him read the note, his face thoughtful.
“Thomas,” Jennings directed, turning to him, the note going to his pocket, “lock the door. Open it for only me. I won’t be long.”
