The Old Maids' Club 02 - Pariah (36 page)

But Isaac simply smiled at her, a cheeky sort of grin. “Mother is desperate to meet her grandson, though she’s understandably a bit miffed with both you and Miranda that this is the first she’s heard of him. And Uncle Drake has added more funds to your account to hire an additional nurse for Finn, at least until such time as Mrs. Wyatt is on her feet again.”

“What?” she finally blurted out.

A devilish gleam shone in Isaac’s eyes, and he shook his head. “I told you I’d handle it. Just because I’m a poor shot, you always underestimate me.”

Baffled, she tried to clear the rampant thoughts from her head. Finally, Bethanne managed a smile in return. “Because you’re a poor shot and my
younger
brother. The eldest is always right, you know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” His sarcastic tone gave her little confidence in his words.

Still, for the first time in a very long time, Bethanne felt a true smile tugging at her lips and perhaps even a laugh bubbling beneath the surface.

“We don’t have nearly enough rooms here for everyone that’s coming,” Isaac mused. “I suppose we can ask Lord Roman if we could make use of some chambers at Hassop House for a brief stay.”

Bethanne was preparing to object to such a scenario and suggest they should secure rooms for the family at the inn in town when Crandall cleared his throat at the doorway.

“Lord Roman Sullivan to see Miss Shelton.”

Her stomach plummeted. What could he possibly want with her now? Weren’t his prior rejections of her enough?

Isaac nodded. “Send him in.” Then he turned back to Bethanne, rising from behind his desk. “Be sure to run the idea past him, won’t you? I’m sure he’ll agree, but it is best to have our plans settled.” Before she could object, Isaac nodded to Roman as he came in, then left, calling over his shoulder, “Don’t do anything to make me rethink my decision, Sullivan.”

Crandall hovered in the doorway. “Should I have tea sent in, Miss Shelton?”

“Actually,” Roman cut in, his heated, gray eyes boring through her and making her shiver, “I was hoping Miss Shelton might join me for a walk. The snows from this week have cleared, and it is clear if a bit brisk. Would you be willing to oblige me?”

Every inch of her body tingled with mutual dread and anticipation. What must he say to her which couldn’t be said in the safety of her home? Yet despite her misgivings, Bethanne found herself rising to her feet. “Crandall, would you please fetch my redingote? And have Joyce prepare a tea tray for our return.”

Moments later, they walked together across the same clearing she’d traversed alone a week before. He kept his hands clasped behind his back and slowed his gait enough that she needn’t almost trot to match his stride.

The silence between them was far from companionable; instead, the weight of confusion pressed between them, widening the chasm between their paths with each step she took.

And then he stopped. Roman reached out and grasped her elbow, turning her to face him despite her desire to avoid looking at him. With one hand, firm and yet gentle, he tilted her chin up until she had no choice but to meet his probing eyes.

“I’ve been a blundering fool.” His words came out like a strong gust of wind, billowing over her and leaving her breathless and slightly hopeful.

It wouldn’t do to hope overmuch, however. Bethanne had allowed herself to do so before, only to have those very hopes trampled beneath her feet. Doing so again now would leave her the fool, not him.

“Somehow, I convinced myself that my love for you was not enough. That even though I love you more than I think I can survive, you would be better off without me. Safer. I was wrong.”

Bethanne shook her head, sure that she wasn’t hearing what she thought she was hearing. “I’ve always felt safe with you.” Tears stung behind her eyes, and she feared she’d let them fall if he didn’t stop with this madness. He’d seen more than enough of his tears for this lifetime.

“And I’ve been too blinded by my own fears to see it.” Roman took her hand and started walking again, leading her to take a seat on a bench. “I convinced myself you deserved a man who could be trusted with you—with your safety—all night, and that I was not that man. I’m not even positive that I am now, but I’m sure we can find a way to keep you safe.”

This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t have suddenly come to this realization, not when she’d already tried to convince him of this very thing on more than one occasion. “I don’t understand,” she said, her voice choking out on a sob.

“Your aunt,” Roman said as though that would explain everything. “When I was here for tea yesterday, she said something that finally broke through the wall of my fears and made me see reason.”

How very like Aunt Rosaline, to have a piece of sage advice, and to give it freely. She’d set Bethanne and her cousins, Jo and Tabitha, straight on countless occasions, usually with the sort of truth they’d never forget in all their lives.

A tear fell, trailing down Bethanne’s right cheek. Roman reached up and brushed it away with the pad of his thumb before it fell to her redingote. The simple touch left her trembling.

“What did she say to you?”

Roman smiled, and it somehow made him more handsome than she had ever thought him before, turning his eyes to silvery, twinkling orbs. “She told me I was breaking your heart and she wouldn’t stand for it.”

Through her tears, that brought Bethanne a chuckle. “She’s always been rather forthright with making her opinions known.”

“I can easily believe that.” Roman sobered then, taking both her hands in his and tracing the backs of her knuckles with his thumbs. “That wasn’t all she said, though. She also said that there is nothing worse in this world than living without the person you love—that we never know how long we’ll have with them, so we ought to make the best of it. Anyone who has seen her recently would have to be heartless not to see the truth of that statement. How long has she lived without her Lieutenant Jackson? And not a day has gone by without her thinking of him, missing him, wishing she could have one more moment with him.”

“Even when she doesn’t know anyone else,” Bethanne murmured. For the last week, she’d been trying to resign herself to the fact that she’d likely spend the rest of her life with the same hole in her heart, though hers was not caused by the death of the man she loved.

Roman moved off the bench and took a knee before her. “Lady Rosaline is right. I cannot bear to face the pain of not having you in my life. There are far too many things in my life which have caused me pain already, and I will not willfully add to them. Bethanne Shelton, I love you more than I could ever have the right to love anyone. I want you in my life more than I want my next breath. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Bethanne’s heart felt as though it might leap from her chest at any moment. “Is this real? Please tell me this is not a dream.”

“It’s been my dream for so long, I never thought it could be a reality,” Roman said. “I never thought I could allow it to become reality. But I can assure you, this is very much real. Please marry me. I want your family to be my family. I want Finn to be my son, and Lady Rosaline to be my aunt. But most of all, I want you to be my wife. Say yes. I’ve been a fool for far too long, and I will be again without hesitation if you demand it of me. I’ll do anything.”

But there was nothing in the world Bethanne wanted him to do more than what he had just done. “Yes, Roman. I’ll marry you.”

In an instant, he was up from the ground and had her wrapped in his arms, and his lips came down to meet hers.

Roman spent the rest of the day at the cottage, settling into life as it had been for so long, only with the addition of Shelton and the knowledge that Bethanne would soon be his wife.

After supper and once Finn had been settled in his bed, they all sat together in the music room, while Bethanne played the pianoforte with her aunt by her side. Lady Rosaline didn’t recognize them today, but she was not waiting frantically for the return of her lost beau, either. It had been a rather peaceful day, all things considered. One so much like he’d always wanted but never expected for himself.

Bethanne finished the piece she’d been playing. “What shall we play next?” she asked. “Something lively?”

Lady Rosaline sifted through a stack of sheet music and pulled something out, setting it before her niece. Moments later, the strains of a waltz filled the room. Roman watched Bethanne from behind, noting how her entire body became one with the music flowing through her fingers.

“I’ve written to my father and informed him of your proposal,” Shelton said to Roman. “He’ll more than approve. He has a great respect for military men.”

He nodded. “I suppose we ought to wait until the family has arrived for their visit to have the banns read, then.” Roman had readily agreed to open up Hassop House for the Shelton family—of which he understood there to be a fair few—when they came to town. It would do the Hassop servants good to have people in residence.

But Shelton looked at him as though he belonged in Bedlam. “There’s no call for that. I had already made my father aware of your interest in Bethanne. He said that if you offered, I should work out terms with you. We can have the banns called as soon as Sunday, and then you could marry when the family arrives.”

Something warm settled around his heart at the thought of making Bethanne his wife in mere weeks. He could probably even get word to his father in time that his family could make the journey, though they might not wish to travel this time of year. Perhaps instead, they would come before the Season started in earnest.

Roman nodded, and they both sat back to enjoy the piece Bethanne was playing.

When it ended, Lady Rosaline stretched her arms and yawned. “I do think I should like to find my bed.”

“Off we go then, my lady.” Miss Erskine set aside her stitchery and helped Lady Rosaline to her feet. On their way out the door, she stopped before Shelton. “Might we expect you to join us shortly? I should have her ladyship settled in fifteen minutes.”

“Expect me to arrive in sixteen minutes, then,” Shelton responded.

The nurse nodded and bustled with Lady Rosaline out into the corridor.

“I could sit with her,” Roman interjected. Now that he and Bethanne were on friendly terms again—more than friendly, truth be told—he saw no reason he shouldn’t resume his former post by Lady Rosaline’s side at night.

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary.” Shelton met Roman’s gaze, then passed his eyes over to Bethanne at the pianoforte bench where she was straightening the sheet music, and then back to Roman. He dropped his voice so low only Roman could hear him. “I’d imagine there is someone else who could use your company tonight.”

Were he not so practiced in controlling his reactions, Roman’s jaw would have dropped. Had Shelton truly just suggested he bed Bethanne? “She has agreed to become my wife,” Roman murmured, “but the deed is not yet done.”

“True. But it will be or we’ll reschedule our dawn appointment, so I don’t see the harm in it. Besides, I understand you and my sister need to work some things out in terms of your—well, the nighttime problems you have similar to my aunt’s.”

Such a thought left Roman well and truly baffled.

Shelton leaned closer to him, draping one arm over his knee. “Would you not feel it is safer with both me and Crandall in the house, should a problem arise?”

Then it all became much more clear. Roman closed his eyes and nodded. Shelton may be a bit unusual in the manner he handled his sister, but there could be no doubt that he wanted what was best for her. That desire was one they could share.

“Excellent.” Shelton stood. “Now don’t get me wrong—I don’t want anyone to hear about this, or else we’ll have to forgo the banns and get a special license.”

An idea which wouldn’t be all that bad, actually. Roman had no intention of actually bedding Bethanne until she was well and truly his wife. She deserved his respect. It would be better for her to have her family present for the wedding, so the banns were a must…but the thought of spending a night with her in his arms held far too much appeal. “No one will hear of anything,” Roman reassured the younger man.

“Well, I suppose I should head up to sit with Aunt Rosaline. A good night to you all.”

That initiated a chorus of goodnights, until only Roman and Bethanne were left in the music room. She looked sheepishly across at him with a lovely blush pinking her cheeks. Had she overheard some of his conversation with her brother?

“Will you stay in your room again tonight?” Somehow, her blush intensified. He crossed the room to sit next to her on the pianoforte bench. Tentatively, she reached over and took his hand in hers. “I know we aren’t yet married, but I’d hoped that you might return to the cottage anyway—that we could go back to how it was before. Isaac agreed it would be acceptable.”

“That’s what you want?” he asked. Almost involuntarily, his fingers curled around her hand, and they both looked down to where they were joined. It would be so easy to forget about his honor, to leave behind his ideas of what was right and wrong. Too easy, perhaps. Roman doubted she would refuse him.