The Rebel’s Daughter (37 page)

“
You’ll
raise a glass at the wedding, though, won’t you Henry?” Newman’s
cheeks glowed with wine and good humour. “You are my best
apprentice after all, and I would have you present at the
ceremony.”

Henry inclined his head in assent, his aim to
get out of the room before his feelings showed on his face.

His host was right; she was a dutiful
daughter, who adored both her parents and would offer no
objections. Mary Ann was lost to him, forever.

The hour was late, and apart from his host,
the rest of the household slept. He lit a candle at the bottom of
the stairs and dragged himself up to the second floor. As he
rounded the corner leading to his room, he felt rather than saw
her.

“
Henry?”

He could tell by that one, choked word she
had been crying. Mary Ann detached herself from the shadows, the
yellow glow of his candle throwing her face into sharp relief. Her
eyes were red-rimmed and she gave a sad sniff, yet she was still
the loveliest thing he had ever seen.

“
Henry,”
she sobbed. “The most horrible thing has happened.”

He sighed. “Your father said you had not
yet been told.”

“
You
know?” At Hendry’s nod, she gave a tiny moan. “Mother told me.” She
wiped her eyes with a kerchief. “She imagined I would be overjoyed,
and swore me to secrecy.” She took a step toward him and burst into
fresh tears.

The floor creaked under their combined weight
and with a furtive glance along the darkened corridor, Henry
ushered her into his room, closing the door firmly behind them.

Mary Ann leaned against the door, slumping
as if her knees were giving way. “What are we to do?” Her eyes were
pleading.

He placed the guttering candle on the low
windowsill, where it stilled, and glowed brighter. His reflected
face in the pane looked drawn, his eyes large, as he stared at the
shadowy rooftops reaching away into the darkness.

Mary Ann grasped his arm with both hands.
“I don’t want to marry him; I won’t marry him, I…”

“
Yes,
Mary Ann, you will,” Hendry’s voice was almost cold. He didn’t
move, nor could he look at her. He felt he would break into a
thousand pieces if he tried.

She gasped, the kerchief pressed against
her mouth. “You want me to?”

“
No!” He
burst out in a harsh growl as he turned toward her, her distraught
face like a knife twisting in his stomach. He reached out his arms
toward her, and with a ragged sob, Mary Ann collapsed against
him.

“
I could
refuse.” She lifted her face to his, her eyes full of unshed
tears.

“
And
tell your parents you wish to marry me? The consequences would be
devastating.” She opened her mouth to speak, but he pressed the
tips of his fingers against her lips. “Not just for us, but for our
families too.”

She stared at him, horrified, large tears
spilling onto her cheeks.

“
Your
Father would discharge me from my apprenticeship, and no architect
would agree to continue my training.” The truth of his own words
tore at him. “Aaron would cut me off from my allowance, and might
not even allow me back into my father’s business. Helena may accept
us, but she is in no position to offer practical help. We would
have nothing.”

He held her away from him, his hands
gripping her upper arms, willing her to understand. “Do you have
any idea what it would be like, to be penniless and with no
friends?” She shook her head, the wispy curls at her temple
bobbing. “Well, I saw what my future would hold without those
things. Even if I could stand such a life for myself, I could never
do that to you. Eventually, you would hate me for it.”

“
I could
never hate you, Henry.”

“
We
would be shunned, Mary Ann. And how could you bear never to see
your mother, or any of your sisters again? Apart from you, Helena
and Aaron are all I have. I cannot lose them.” He bit his lip, his
throat almost closed with pain as she collapsed again into his
arms, defeated. His eyes stung with hot tears as he realised his
words had penetrated her despair.

“
How
stupid of me to think we could…” she broke off. “Oh, Henry what are
we going to do?”

“
There
is nothing we
can
do,” he whispered into her hair.

They clung together in the gloom of
Hendry’s attic room, making oaths and promises to help each other
through the future they would spend apart. As the night deepened
and their loss became real, they separated, painfully, with fresh
tears on both sides.

Henry spent the rest of that night in wakeful
misery, imagining Mary Ann crying herself to sleep in the room
below his. For the first time since his apprenticeship began, he
did not look forward to the morning.

* * *

Viewed through a crack in the
door to the kitchens, Helena watched Robert and Guy Palmer emerge
from the salon, the older
man’s arm encircled Guy’s shoulder. His look was
one of guarded nervousness that told her the interview Guy had
requested on his arrival had been a success.

She backed away, and returned to her place
at the parlour table, flicked open her journal and pretended to
study the last entry. Her gaze fell upon Guy’s name in large
letters on the page, and she slapped her hand over the words she
had penned, saying she expected his proposal, just as the man
himself appeared.

“
I met
Phebe in the hall just now,” Guy said. “She told me you would be in
here.”

“
Phebe
knows everyone’s movements at Lambtons. Do take a seat, Master
Palmer.”

“
Were
you aware…” Guy perched on a chair opposite, “that you always greet
me with mild surprise, as if you have no expectation of seeing me?
Surely you must know by now that I am your most devoted
admirer?”

William
’s face flashed into her head, but
she dismissed him instantly. “I am flattered, though to prove I
have been paying attention, there are some things I have learnt
about you.”

“
Which
are?” He laid his arm on the tabletop, his fingers hair’s breadth
from her journal.

“
That
you were orphaned at the age of ten, and brought up by your
father’s much younger brother. He is a kindly man, but a confirmed
bachelor with a penchant for exotic travel.”

“
You
have been paying attention, I-”

Helena held up her hand. “There is more.
Your Uncle Arthur left you in the care of a string of
semi-neglectful tutors and housekeepers.”

“
…
which made me realise at a young age that acquiring success
lay entirely in my own hands,” He finished for
her.

“
Exactly.” She adopted an expression of rapt attention at
the same time closing the journal and moving it away from his
reach. If she had miscalculated, what he would have read there
could be embarrassing.

“
I have
something to ask you, Helena, which I am not finding easy. May I
ask you to remove your attention from that book for a
moment?”

Startled, she released the journal that
slipped to the floor with a small thump. “No, leave it,” she said
as he bent to retrieve it, suddenly nervous.

“
What
was it you wished to ask?”

“
Helena,” he said slowly, as if savouring her name on his
tongue. “Would you do me the honour of marrying me?”

There, he had said it. Was this were she
was required to exhibit breathless excitement? Surprise? Even a
little fear? If only she could blush on command, it might make the
situation easier. As it was she had no idea at all how to react,
even though she had expected this. “Master Palmer, why do you wish
to be married to me?” It was the only thing she could think of to
say.

“
Why
would any young man not want you for a wife?”

“
A
pretty compliment, sir and I am flattered.” She inclined her head.
“I simply ask why do
you
wish it?” “I feel we would make a good marriage, as we have
a great deal in common.”

“
Such
as?”

“
I-I
have no living parents, yet I am financially sound.” He swallowed,
as if it struck him that was the wrong thing to say, but it was too
late to retract.

“
I’m not
actually an orphan. At least I hope not. I ask, because I am
curious to know if there is any emotional attachment to your
offer.”

He blinked, opened his mouth, and then closed
it again.

“
Oh, no
matter.” This time she was certain she blushed. “I’m not making
myself clear.”

“
Do you
imagine I would seek a marriage with someone I did not feel
affection for?” His voice rose sharply.

Helena lifted her chin. “I don’t know you
well enough to make such a judgment.”

“
Has it
occurred to you,” he said, his forearms on his splayed knees and
chin jutted forward. “I have no idea what your feelings are
either?” At her hesitation, he went on. “I’m no courtier, and you
are not a duchess. Perhaps we are expecting too much of one
another.”

Helena blinked, surprised the meeting did not
appear to be going as she expected. What did she expect? A besotted
young man who would worship at her feet because she had agreed to
be his wife? She did not realize she was frowning until he reached
forward and smoothed a finger across her forehead.

“
Helena.” Her calm acceptance of his touch appeared to give
him courage. “I would not have called upon you so diligently these
last weeks, had there been no emotion on my part.” “You’ve indeed
been most attentive, Master Palmer, but you have never-” She left
the sentence hanging.

“
Professed my undying devotion?” He inclined his head,
arching one eyebrow. “Is that what you want of me?”

“
You
could have professed a little,” she wheedled. Perhaps Robert was
right and she was indeed a coquette? Yet wasn’t this exactly what
she wanted? Then why was she urging for more?

He propped his chin on an elbow, a warm
smile on his lips. “I love you Mistress Woulfe, and you will never
have reason to doubt my devotion.”

“
When I
first saw you at Ralf and Celia”s wedding I was certain then that
we would marry.” He laughed self-consciously as he absently
massaged her thumb. “I even toyed with the idea of asking you that
night.”

“
I might
have refused you, then,” she teased.

“
Does
that mean you are not refusing me now?”

“
I have
forgotten the question.” Impulsively, she reached across the table
and took his hand, her fingers resting lightly in his as if they
belonged there.

His gaze slid sideways then back at her
face. “Are those serving girls still watching from the kitchen?” he
asked without turning his head.

Helena shifted looked past his shoulder,
and nodded, a smile tugging at her mouth. Guy gave a slow,
thoughtful nod, then without lowering his voice, he repeated his
proposal. “I asked, Mistress Woulfe, for your hand in marriage.” A
ripple of sighs and giggles erupted from behind them.

“
I
accept your offer, Master Palmer.” She held his gaze, surprising
herself at how delighted she felt.

Guy released a slow breath, and pulled her
hand up to his lips. A tiny flame of anger lit his eyes and his
grip on her hand tightened. “Helena, I hope that having laid bare
my feelings has proved more than simply a source of amusement to
you.”

“
There
are very few times in a woman’s life,” Helena began, aware she had
teased him too far and he was now angry with her. “When she has the
advantage of a handsome gentleman. Surely you would not condemn me
for making the most of mine?”

“
In that
case, you are forgiven for teasing me.” He snatched his hand away
and rose. “Now. May I inform your guardian we are formally
engaged?”

She hesitated. “Yes…you may. If that is
what is expected.” His eyes darkened for a second, then he turned
and strode across the hall.

Helena stared after him for a moment,
mildly bewildered before she reached and retrieved her journal. She
continued to sit, listening to the familiar kitchen noises in the
background. What was she was supposed to do now? She idly fingered
the fastening on the leather book, toying with the idea of
recording the fact she was going to become Mistress Palmer. Like
Lady Castlemaine. What would Aaron have to say about
that?

Guy
’s discomfort was something she had
intended to exploit a little before accepting him, but at some
point in their exchange, the balance of power had shifted, and Guy
had taken control. Perhaps that’s as it should be; what woman wants
a husband she can bully?