The Proposal (24 page)

Marianne told him what had transpired with Mr Jennings.

“But, Marianne, you did the right thing,” Walker said the moment she was through. “What can be foolish in this?”

“The foolishness is that I think I have feelings for this man,” she admitted, her heart so torn she felt ill. “I know I can’t have him—his rejection of Christ is complete—but to hear him ask the question that under other circumstances would be sweet to hear was almost more than I could bear.”

“There, there, Mari; it’s all right.” Her father came around the front of his desk and gently kissed her brow. Tears had started again, just a few this time, and Mr Walker handed over his handkerchief. When Marianne was somewhat composed, her eyes focused on the window, Walker spoke.

“What if he believed, Mari? Would you have accepted then?”

Marianne looked to him in surprise.

“I think not, Mari,” he continued. “You don’t want to be married for the sole reason of seeing to his children. You’re not a woman who wants to be in love alone.”

Again Marianne stared at him.

“You see, my dear, it’s more complicated than it first sounds. Not only does the man need to love Christ, but he needs to love you as well. It certainly complicates matters that your heart has become involved, but it’s not that surprising. We don’t have any eligible men at the church, or you would have married long ago. Now Mr Jennings comes along, handsome and polite, with three children you can love, and you find yourself flustered in his presence. I can see how you would think that was love, but if you look closely, you may find that it’s not.”

“What do you mean?”

“What has light to do with darkness, Marianne? What has Satan to do with God? Those are questions that Second Corinthians asks us and that you must ask yourself. You’re a special being because Christ indwells you. I don’t care how charming or handsome Mr Jennings is, you’re not alike in the way that truly counts.”

It was the best thing anyone could have said to Marianne. She didn’t think it would make all the pain go away, but her father was right. She needed to examine her feelings in this light and not be carried away by emotions. She did feel drawn to Mr Jennings, but what right had she to let her heart stray? He was not a man who could have her heart, no matter how good-looking or charming he might be.

Marianne stood.

“Thank you, Father. You’ve given me much to think on.”

Walker studied her. She had a determined look about her. It was easy to recognize. Both his daughter and wife sported that look when they had a tough job they wanted to accomplish. But happy as Walker was that his daughter was taking this seriously, his heart knew great compassion.

“I’m glad, Marianne, but I also want you to know that I wouldn’t have chosen this for you. I’m sorry for the hurt it’s brought you.”

Marianne’s face softened, and she leaned close to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Father. I’ve just been so emotional about this that I’m trying to be quite firm with myself.”

“And I commend you, but keep in mind that God understands emotions. Don’t leave them all behind.”

Father and daughter shared a smile and a hug before Marianne left her father on his own. Walker prayed for his daughter as she left, knowing that if she followed her pattern from childhood, she was headed to see her mother.

Lydia found Marianne in the garden much later that day. The younger woman was bent over cutting a blossom, and when she straightened, she found her dearest friend watching her.

“How are you?” Lydia asked.

Marianne set her basket aside and walked toward Lydia. Arm in arm the women began a slow promenade through the yard and expansive gardens.

“It was so unexpected, Liddy. I’m still in shock.” Marianne glanced over at Lydia. “I’m quite surprised that he told you.”

“I was also stunned when he confided what he’d done, and my reaction made him even more agitated.”

“Was he angry with me, do you think?”

“More at your reason. Palmer commented after Jennings left that my brother is probably growing weary of the censor. Your rejection on the grounds of his faith was just one more reminder.”

“That was not the only reason I gave him,” Marianne said. “Did he tell you that?”

“No. What did you say?”

Marianne thought for a moment about the way she’d worded things before answering, “I reminded him that Penny isn’t that many more years in need of a mother, and in less than ten years’ time he’ll find himself with a wife he no longer needs.”

“You said that to him?”

“Yes.”

“And what did he say?”

“Nothing. The whole conversation was very brief. He presented his proposal as though addressing a business gathering. I told him why I couldn’t accept and then asked if my answer would alter my being able to see the children. He said no it would not, thanked me, and went on his way.”

Lydia found herself trembling all over again. She didn’t wish to be overly dramatic, but on behalf of Marianne and her brother, this was very upsetting to her. That her brother could make an offer for Marianne’s hand in this way simply never occurred to her. He obviously felt in something of a desperate situation and was trying to do his best, but that didn’t completely pardon his treatment of Marianne.

“Are you angry with me, Lydia?” Marianne asked quietly, cutting into Lydia’s tortured thoughts.

“Not in the least! Why would you ask such a thing?”

“I don’t know. I just thought you might be a little upset with the way I answered Jennings. I tried to be kind, but I don’t know if that’s possible in such a situation.”

“Marianne, there was nothing else you could do. Having you for a sister-in-law would be like a dream come true, but only if I’ve another brother hidden away somewhere who would fit God’s criteria for your husband.”

Marianne found this comical. She laughed a little, and Lydia laughed with her. It was what they both needed.

“I know he meant it as a compliment,” Marianne eventually said. “And I meant it when I told him I was honored, but even though his feelings are not involved, I’m sure he couldn’t help but be slightly put off by me.”

“And what of you? Were you not hurt, even though your feelings aren’t involved?”

The look that crossed Marianne’s face on this question was so telling that Lydia stopped. The two women looked at each other a moment before tears filled Lydia’s eyes.

“I need to tell you,” Marianne began, “that I’m working on this. My father was good to point out that I had no business even letting my heart stray the small bit that it has. I can see the disappointment in your eyes, and I’m sorry, Lydia.”

Lydia put her arms around her and held her close.

“It’s not that, Mari,” she whispered. “It’s thinking how much more painful it must have been to hear my brother’s offer and have at least a small portion of your heart wanting to say yes.”

Marianne found it to be the sweetest thing on earth to have Lydia understand. They kept talking as they made a full circle in the garden, and when they arrived back at Marianne’s basket, Lydia hugged her again.

“I’ve got to get back. Jennings was called away to London, so we’re back to seven children at Tipton.”

Marianne thanked her for coming and walked her to her carriage, but in the back of her mind was another word of thanks, this time to God that she wouldn’t have to face Jennings just yet. Sunday was two days away, and she hadn’t been looking forward to it at all.

London

“How do you explain the bruises on the child in question?” Judge Harris asked, spearing Mrs Smith with his eyes.

“I saw no bruises,” she said innocently.

“No, I don’t suppose you did.” The judge’s voice was cold, and some of the confidence left Mrs Smith’s face.

Tense and silent, Jennings watched the proceedings, hoping the judge would not forget to call Megan for her testimony. The older man seemed distracted, and Jennings could not gauge how this ordeal would turn out.

“Where is the child?” the judge asked, and Jennings inwardly groaned.

“She is staying with my sister,” Jennings answered, hoping the judge remembered him.

“But you have a witness, do you not, Mr Jennings?”

Jennings could have sagged with relief.

“I do, sir. Miss Megan Cornell.”

“Approach,” the judge said when Megan came to her feet.

Staying very businesslike, the judge questioned Megan, or at least began to question her. Not five minutes passed before there was a commotion at the back of the room. Nearly all heads turned, and when the noise escalated, the judge demanded an explanation.

A finely dressed and extremely confidant man stepped forward. He made just one statement, but it was enough to stop the judge’s interview with Megan and to make Jennings’ blood boil with rage.

Thornton Hall

“The children are where?” Jennings asked Mr Collins in disbelief, as though he’d not understood him the first time.

The staff had not seen this aloof side of Jennings for many weeks, but Mr Collins still answered with his usual calm.

“The children are on an outing with Miss Walker. Shall I send for them, sir?”

“Do you know where they went?” Jennings asked, working to calm the emotions inside of him.

“They are on foot and ventured off from the gardens.”

Prior to being turned down by Marianne, Jennings would have thought nothing of this, but this, along with the events in London, put Jennings in a mood most foul.

“I’ll go look for them myself,” Jennings finally retorted, sounding none too happy about the prospect and moving to the stairs with plans to change from his traveling suit. He stopped just a few steps up. “Why aren’t they at my sister’s?” he demanded, having just realized what was wrong.

“The children at Tipton have fallen ill, sir—summer colds. Your sister did not want Thomas, James, and Penny exposed.”

This was calming news. At the mention of Marianne Walker, Jennings’ imagination had run in several directions. It was good to know that he’d been far off the mark in each and every case. An hour later, however, when he had changed and was walking along the path and found them at a distance, some of his earlier misgivings returned.

Was this woman filling in for Lydia in hopes that he would ask for her hand once again? Had she changed her mind for some reason? Jennings nearly shook his head at his whirling thoughts. He had no reason to think any of those things, but Palmer was right: His pride was sticking out a mile over this.

With this thought, Jennings slowed his pace. From a distance he observed the foursome as they stood under a tree. They were discussing something in Penny’s hand. As he watched, Penny started and dropped whatever she’d been holding. Marianne and the boys laughed as James bent to pick it up.

“Did it tickle?” Jennings heard Marianne ask as he neared.

“No, but I thought he might bite.”

“Maybe it’s a she,” James suggested.

“Well then, you’d only get bit if she heard you,” Marianne said quietly, and the children laughed.

“Hello!” James said, the first to spot Jennings as he neared.

“Hello,” he replied, his voice sounding reserved even to his own ears.

The children began to talk to him, but Marianne’s face flushed and then paled. She remained in the background and didn’t speak until all was quiet. Because she didn’t look at Jennings, she wasn’t sure if he was looking at her, but the children suddenly were. Her glance included them all.