The Proposal (19 page)
“It’s been years since I’ve been in Thornton Hall, but I recall that it’s lovely.”
“It’s very nice, and many of the furnishings are to be left. I would not have to go on a huge shopping venture.”
“Will you keep your house in London?” Lydia asked, hoping he would because it had been in the family for several generations.
“Yes, I want the children to be comfortable in that city as well.”
Lydia stared at her brother, her face a picture of the confusion she could not hide.
“What is it, Lydia?” her husband asked.
“I don’t know if I should say it,” she replied, her voice quiet.
“I think you should, Lydia,” her brother commanded. “We’re going to be neighbors. I need to know what’s on your mind.”
“I will tell you, Jennings, but I would ask that you not be angry.”
“I’ll do my best,” he told her.
Lydia stared at him a moment and then blurted, “The changes in you are so drastic! You seem to be putting your whole life aside to make room for these children. They probably don’t have any idea how blessed they actually are, but what if you find you don’t wish to be a father? You’ve lived as a bachelor for more than thirty years, and now in such a short time your whole life has changed. What if this isn’t really what you want?”
Jennings smiled a little.
“Is this your way of asking why I don’t seem as selfish as I used to?”
“In a way, I guess it is,” Lydia answered gratefully, glad that he understood and didn’t seem upset. “You were never hateful or cruel, but neither am I used to seeing you put others first.”
Jennings looked around the room, his gaze intense. After nearly a minute of silence, he turned back to the Palmers with an answer.
“I’ve never met a woman I felt was my equal, and while I never wanted to marry just to father children, I still wanted children. I’ve yearned for them at times,” he said seriously. “With those facts in mind, you can well imagine my thinking that the fates had smiled upon me when I found myself a guardian to three children without having to bother with a wife.”
Palmer couldn’t stop his smile. Seeing it, Jennings smiled as well, although his was a bit on the sheepish side.
“As to your question, Liddy, about my deciding it’s not really what I want, I guess I don’t see that as an option. These children are my responsibility. The issue with Mrs Smith might have gone on indefinitely, but I saw my mistake early. As you pointed out, I’ve had years of living for myself; I think I can take a little time to see that these children are well.”
Lydia found herself remarkably relieved that he had thought this through.
“Thank you for telling me, Jennings. And whether or not you want to hear it, I’ll tell you that I’m praying for you.”
“We both are,” Palmer put in, “but I must also add one more thing. God’s very best plan involves both a husband and a wife so that children have two parents—a mother and a father. You can raise these children on your own—clearly Godwin was doing that—but at some point you might need to stop seeing a wife as a bother and understand what a help she could be, not just to the children, but to you as well.”
Jennings had no reply to this. It was one more aspect of family life that he had never considered. He knew how valuable Lydia was to Palmer—putting God in the mix had never occurred to him. In truth, Jennings was a little tired of thinking and talking about God, but some of Palmer’s points could not be ignored.
“Will you speak with the children about this plan, Jennings?” Lydia asked next.
“Yes, with Thomas first and then James and Penny.”
“Our children are not going to be very pleased.”
“When they see what an easy ride or walk it is, they’ll understand.”
“How did you hear of Thornton Hall?”
“Just a bit of luck,” Jennings told them confidently. “I happened to be speaking to a man in London whose brother-in-law was in charge of the details. The family’s only just moved on.”
Neither Palmer nor Lydia commented; they didn’t even allow themselves to smile. Lydia excused herself with just a few words—it was time to check on the children—but she could have told her brother in very plain English that luck had nothing whatsoever to do with it.
Blackburn Manor
“Your sister wants you to come for a visit,” Mrs Walker told Marianne, her eyes still on the letter in her hand.
“Elinore or Caroline?”
“Elinore.”
“Does she say when?”
Still in their dressing gowns, the two women sat at the breakfast table, making an easy start to the day over tea and toast.
“This week if you can make it,” the mother said as she studied the letter a little more and then looked at her daughter. “Just for a few days. The children miss you.”
“I miss them too. Will it work for you if I leave in the morning?”
“I’m sure it will. The Markhams are coming to dinner at the end of the week, but they’ll understand.”
“Not to mention, if I’m not here I won’t have to listen to how much her nephew wants to marry me.”
“Does she still do that?”
“When she gets the chance.”
Mrs Walker shook her head, but something had been on her mind for a week, and she thought this might be the opportunity to mention it.
“Did I misunderstand something, or were you rather flustered in Mr Jennings’ presence a week ago Sunday?”
Marianne rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what came over me, Mother. I felt like a schoolgirl.”
“Is it because of the children, do you think?”
“What do you mean?”
“Only that they’re so taken with you, but they’re rather reserved with him.”
Marianne bit her lip. “I hadn’t thought of it, but you might be right. Do you suppose he knows he resents me, or hasn’t he figured it out yet?”
“You misunderstand me, Mari. I don’t think Mr Jennings resents you at all. I thought maybe you were feeling awkward because of the children’s affection.”
“Oh!” was the only word that escaped Marianne’s lips on that point, even as she realized she didn’t want to think about this. She had not the slightest idea why she was so flustered in Mr Jennings’ company, and she also had no way of knowing what he was thinking. With so little information, any thought she put into the matter would be a waste of time.
“I know only this,” Marianne now said. “I’m going to go off to Elinore’s in the morning, and I’m not going to worry about it.”
“And leave me here to worry on my own?” Mrs Walker teased her. “You thoughtless child.”
On a laugh, Marianne rose to kiss her mother. Even if she was only leaving for a few days, she had plenty to do.
Tipton
“You wanted to see me, sir?” Thomas asked as he gained Palmer’s study and found Jennings on his own.
“Yes, Thomas, please come in.”
When the two of them were comfortable on the red leather davenport, Jennings shifted so he could see the boy’s face.
“I’ve found a home for us to let, Thomas. It’s very near here.”
“So you wish for us to stay near Collingbourne and not return to London?”
“Yes. I wouldn’t want to take you from your cousins this summer, and there’s time yet for plans to be made about schooling.”
Thomas nodded, his face giving nothing away.
“Do you think that would work for you, James, and Penny?”
“Yes, sir. It’s very kind of you to ask my opinion. I would…” he began, but stopped.
“Yes?”
Thomas looked hesitant but tried again. “I would like to ask one question if I may.”
“Anything you wish.”
“May James and Penny and I still attend the church where Pastor Hurst preaches?”
“Certainly you may, Thomas. I’ll see to it myself, but I would like to ask you a few questions that have been on my mind.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you attend church to please your father?”
“My heavenly Father or Godwin Jennings?”
“Godwin.”
“That is not why I go, sir, although I know he would be pleased.”
“Why do you go?”
“The life of one who chooses to follow Christ is very challenging, sir. I can rest knowing that God is in control at all times, but I can’t stop changing and growing. And to change and grow, I have to keep learning. I find Pastor Hurst to be a fine teacher.”
“When did you first begin to believe this way, Thomas?”
“I was a child, a little older than Penny. My father used to say that for many years he was rather lukewarm about his faith, but then my mother died and he was forced to depend on God as he never had before. He worked hard to teach James, Penny, and me to do the same.”
“Thank you for telling me.”
“You’re welcome, sir. Would you find me rude if I asked what you believe?”
Jennings smiled. “I don’t find you rude, Thomas, but neither do I have an answer just now. When I do, I’ll let you know.”
The conversation didn’t go on much longer. Jennings explained that he would take Thomas and his siblings to see the house in the morning. Thomas thanked him and went on his way.
The reality of it all hit the oldest Jennings child just after he exited the study and shut the door behind him. His heart overwhelmed with emotions, he sought out a place where he could be alone.
When young Frank arrived in the salon long after the children had retired to bed that night, his father met him in the middle of the room. Lydia kept her seat, and Jennings looked on, but the conversation was hushed.
“What is it, Frank?”
“Did anyone have a moment with Thomas?”
“I’m not sure. Why?”
“He wasn’t himself all evening, and I wondered if Uncle Jennings had been rather harsh on him.”
“He wasn’t harsh on him at all, Frank. He just told him about Thornton Hall.”
Frank looked frustrated.
“Come along, Frank. Tell your mother and uncle what you’ve seen.”
The younger Palmer did as he was told, his uncle listening closely.
“When you say he wasn’t himself, Frank, what exactly do you mean?”
“He was very quiet. He played the game with us, but I could tell he was distracted.”
“Did you ask him what was wrong?” Lydia asked.
“No, I didn’t think he would want to share.”
“I’ll check on him,” Jennings said, rising to do just that. However, he found Thomas sleeping soundly. He determined to check with him in the morning, but at the breakfast table he was in a fine humor, and Jennings felt it was best to let the matter drop.
