The Proposal (21 page)

In the late afternoon on Saturday, Marianne Walker sat very still at the edge of the woods, calling herself every type of fool. She had only just arrived back from her sister’s that morning. The carriage ride had been long, and at the time a walk had sounded like such a fine idea.

The sound of a horse’s approach caught her ears a moment later, and Marianne turned her head swiftly with plans to call out to whoever was passing. Her heart sank when she saw Mr Jennings ride into view.

“Well, Miss Walker,” he said pleasantly, bringing his mount a bit closer and swinging from the saddle. “The children told me you were away.”

“I arrived back just this morning,” she said, feeling awkward about not standing but knowing it was impossible.

Jennings smiled at her before his eyes shifted to the view of the valley below them.

“Well, you certainly picked a good spot for a rest. The view here is beyond compare.”

“Yes, it is,” Marianne agreed, taking note for the first time.

“Well, I’d best leave you to your solitude,” Jennings now said, a bit loath to leave.

“Oh, don’t leave on my account, Mr Jennings.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very sure,” she said graciously and smiled when he sank to the grass some ten feet away and joined her. “Will you be moving to Thornton Hall soon?”

“We moved this week.”

“So soon?”

“Yes. I hadn’t planned to rush it, but my people came from London and got right to work. They sent word to Tipton that the house was ready on Wednesday. It took the better part of the day, but we moved Thursday.”

“And how are you settling in?”

“It’s had its rough points, but I think the children like it.”

And you?
Marianne wanted to ask but feared it was too personal.
How are you doing?

“Penny had bees in her room.”

“Oh, no!”

“She was a bit panicked, but we got rid of them.”

“I think I would panic as well,” Marianne said and a moment later saw that he was watching her.

“I don’t think you’re the panicky type, Miss Walker.”

Marianne laughed. “With bees in my room, I might surprise you.”

They were quiet for a time, and suddenly Jennings noticed that the wind had picked up.

“I think it’s going to cool off rather swiftly this evening. May I see you back, Miss Walker?”

This took Marianne by surprise, but she still recovered nicely.

“I believe I’ll sit for a time, Mr Jennings. Please don’t let me keep you.”

“Are you certain? I hate to rush off, but I told the girls we would take the pony trap out when I got back.”

“Thank you for your concern, but I think I just want to sit for a time.”

Jennings wasn’t too sure he wanted to leave her, but he reminded himself that she had been alone when he found her. He also knew that this section of forest and valley was a part of her father’s land. He bowed graciously and started off. The view along the path was much the same, but in his haste to return to the children, he didn’t take as much notice this time.

Tipton was in sight when it hit him. Bringing his horse to a halt, he thought about the fact that Miss Walker hadn’t even stood to bid him goodbye. Something was wrong.

Hoping he had miscalculated but strongly suspecting he hadn’t, Jennings turned his mount and heeled him in the direction from which he’d just come.

Marianne was a picture of serenity as she looked out over the valley, but in truth her mind rushed with options. Walking home was out of the question, but waiting for her family to notice she’d been gone too long was not at all comforting. And Jennings was right, the wind was picking up. In less than an hour she would be very cold.

She didn’t know if she was relieved or not when she watched Jennings ride back into view. Her ears had caught the sound of his horse, so she was turned and looking at him when he approached. He left his horse much as he had before, but this time he walked with purpose until he stood directly before her.

“You’re hurt, are you not?” he wasted no time in asking.

“Why would you ask that, Mr Jennings?” Marianne hedged.

With a shake of his head, Jennings dropped to one knee.

“It wasn’t hard to figure. I told you my view on deceit and women who feign injuries.”

Marianne looked away. As if the ankle wasn’t painful enough, she’d now been caught feigning in another way.

Jennings did not touch her but continued to kneel and watch her. Marianne could feel his gaze and knew she would have to admit the truth.

“As a matter of fact, my ankle is rather uncomfortable right now.”

Jennings studied her profile until she looked his way. His gaze a bit stern, he held her eyes for a few seconds.

“Let’s have a look,” he said, his tone so matter-of-fact that Marianne couldn’t object, but neither could she stop the gasp that escaped her when he placed his hand beneath her ankle.

“What did you do?”

“My foot found a hole, and the ankle twisted at an odd angle.”

“I don’t believe it’s broken, but it’s already swelling,” Jennings said quietly, his face bent over her foot as he carefully probed the bone.

Marianne looked at him until he glanced into her eyes. Then she dropped her own.

“Well,” Jennings continued, his voice still congenial. “We’d best get you back. Come along now, put your arm around me, and I’ll lift you onto my horse.”

Marianne saw no hope for it. She placed her arm around his neck as he scooped her up, one arm at her back and another supporting her knees. His hold was gentle yet sure, but Marianne kept her eyes down in embarrassment. She would have kept them down through the entire ordeal, but once Mr Jennings lifted her into his arms, he stood very still, just holding her. Purely out of curiosity, Marianne looked up to find him watching her.

“For future reference, Miss Walker, I don’t believe you capable of any type of deceit.”

Marianne looked away, “How can you say that when I just tried to hide my hurt ankle?”

To her surprise, he laughed. She was so taken by the sound that she was sitting on his horse and on the way home before she realized he hadn’t answered.

Blackburn Manor

“Is he gone?” Marianne asked when her mother entered her room.

“Yes. He said he would tell Lydia and the family what happened and asked that you take care of yourself.”

Marianne shook her head. “I don’t know what’s come over me.”

“It’s interesting,” Mrs Walker agreed. “A black eye just a few weeks ago and now a twisted ankle.” The older lady sat on the edge of her daughter’s bed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were in love.”

“Why, Mother? Do you get clumsy when you’re in love?”

“Your mother did,” Walker confirmed as he joined them. “I’m surprised I lived to actually marry her. She tried to scald me with hot tea and I don’t know what else.”

“Oh, Walker,” his wife said, trying not to laugh. “Stop telling her such tales.”

“How are you?” Walker kissed his daughter’s brow and took a nearby chair.

“I feel foolish, and I don’t think I’ll be on this ankle for several days, but other than that, I’m fine.”

“Well, at least this didn’t happen at Elinore’s and leave you stranded away from home.”

“I’m just glad Mr Jennings stumbled across you,” Mrs Walker put in. “Who knows how long you would have been out there.”

“I tried not to think of that at the time. I even wondered if I’d twisted my ankle in a snake hole!”

Marianne’s look of horror was so amusing that her parents laughed. Walker was soon on his way, but Mrs Walker stayed to find out what special treat her daughter wanted for supper.

In truth, Marianne wasn’t all that hungry, but she gave an answer to please her mother. Once alone, however, her thoughts went back to her rescuer, and there they stayed.

Chapter Twelve

Tipton

Lizzy had not come down to breakfast. Lydia and Judith were busy with the meal and Walt’s pants—he’d torn a seam—so Palmer did the honors. He climbed the stairs at a fast pace and took the hallway at a near trot, but the sight of his daughter, a solitary figure by the window, caused all his movements to cease.

After a moment Palmer entered, and only then did the youngest Palmer turn her head from her contemplation out the window.

“Hey, Princess,” her father said softly. “Are you coming down to eat?”

Lizzy turned fully to him, the light from the window silhouetting her hair, and admitted, “I miss Penny.”

Palmer took a seat on a nearby bed and leaned toward her.

“So do I.”

Lizzy brightened.

“Can she come back?”

“To live here?”

“Yes! Right in this room.”

“I’m afraid that’s not going to work. She needs to be with Uncle Jennings and her brothers.”

“She likes it here,” Lizzy tried to convince him.

Palmer took her in his arms.

“You don’t need to say this to Penny, but you need to remember that both of Penny’s parents are gone.”

Lizzy looked up at him.

“We need to be very thankful that Uncle Jennings is taking care of Penny and the boys, and that she has such a wonderful home of her own.”

Lizzy frowned a bit.

“What’s the matter?”

“Whenever I have to be thankful, it’s because I can’t have something.”

Palmer bit his lip to keep from laughing but still managed to reply, “No, it’s a reminder of all the things you already have because God is so good to us.”

Father’s and daughter’s eyes met. Palmer smiled and Lizzy smiled back.

“Come along, dear. Come and eat breakfast, or we’ll be late for church.”