The Rescue (25 page)

“Not yet.”

“More gifts arrived just before I came looking for you.”

“Did you open them?”

“No, I wanted to wait for you.”

“But you didn’t open any yesterday. You let me do it all.”

“I thought women enjoyed opening gifts.”

“We do, but you got married also.”

Weston only smiled about this, and Anne gave him a pointed look.

“What’s that look for?” he asked, his voice and eyes full of teasing.

“One would think you might be having second thoughts,” she teased him, unnecessarily arranging flowers in the basket, her eyes down to keep from laughing. “One might suspect that gifts arriving reminds you that you’re now tied to a wife.”

“I shall go this instant and open every one.”

He said this so swiftly and comically that Anne laughed.

“Let me take the basket for you.”

“Thank you.”

When they started toward the house, Weston broached the subject of the menu.

“Thanks to Mansfield, Sally, and Cook, I’ve been eating like a king, but they’re used to my taste. Cook would much prefer to have your input, and if it suits you, she does the menu on Friday.”

“Oh, of course. I’d be happy to speak with her, although I certainly have no complaints about the food.”

They ventured back to the house in companionable silence, but as soon as they were inside, Weston invited Anne to open gifts.

“Would you mind terribly if I cleaned up a bit?”

“No. Do you want lunch before we do gifts?”

“Opening them before lunch would be nice.”

It struck her as she answered that he was excited about these presents. He didn’t need to be the one to open them, but he was pleased.

“I’ll be back in about 20 minutes,” Anne offered. “Will that do?”

“Yes. I’ll tell Mansfield we’ll lunch directly after.”

While the two were apart, Anne made good use of her time, washing up, changing her dress, and doing her hair. Her room was left in something of a clutter when she finished, but she didn’t wish to be late.

Weston wouldn’t have noticed. He had gone back to the book he was reading and was quite absorbed when Anne arrived. Anne took a chair and watched him for a moment. She didn’t think her footsteps had been that silent on the floor, but he didn’t seem to notice her presence.

Anne didn’t mind. It was nice to sit quietly and watch her husband’s bent head. He had dark, wavy hair that Anne found herself admiring. His handsome face wasn’t hard to look at either. It passed through her mind to wonder what he thought of her own looks, but he looked up before she could process the idea.

“Have you been there long?”

“Not overly.”

Weston’s eyes studied her, working to gauge if she was only being polite.

“It’s good that you’re finding out early,” he said without explanation.

“Finding out what?”

“When I’m reading something, I tend to become rather lost.”

Anne smiled. There was certainly little comparison, but she was so used to living with a man who was often
completely
lost that it gave her the most irresistible urge to laugh.

“What did I say?”

“Nothing,” Anne said, not able to wipe the smile from her face, and in turn, not being very convincing.

Weston’s gaze narrowed with teasing. His voice deepened as he said, “I’ll have to figure out a way to make you talk.”

Anne couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled out of her.

“That’s just the right note to start on,” Weston said as he went toward a long cylinder wrapped in plain brown paper, “I think this must be a rug. Shall I do the honors?”

“Please,” Anne replied, still wanting to laugh.

A few moments later the paper was torn back so Weston could roll out the rug at Anne’s feet. Her eyes widened with pleasure, and her mouth rounded a bit. It was beautiful—a work of art.

“Who sent this?” she asked quietly after finding her voice.

“The Palmer family, and I think it would go very well in your room.”

“Oh, no, Mr Weston, that’s not right!”

“On the contrary, it would be perfect. I’ll have Mansfield see to it today.”

Anne was ready to argue, but the rug was being rerolled, and as soon as the task was complete, Weston went for another gift. He placed it in Anne’s lap and took a seat to watch her.

Anne, still uncomfortable over the rug, opened the package slowly, hoping this was something they could share. Anne nearly sighed when she saw a crystal compote.

“Isn’t it lovely?” Anne breathed, lifting the bowl out to be viewed and spotting the card.

“What does it say?”

“Best wishes and our prayers, Jennings, Marianne, and family. The note at the bottom says Penny picked it out.”

“It’s very nice.”

Anne looked at her spouse, a sparkle in her eyes.

“I think it might go well in your room.”

Weston was still chuckling as he went for the third gift. It was from the Shepherds, and when Anne opened it she found more candlesticks. She glanced at them and then looked more carefully. At last she turned a beaming face to her husband.

“These were my mother’s.”

“The candlesticks?”

“Yes.”

“Some you had to sell?”

“Yes, Benwick gave me a fair price, but I never saw them in the shop because he doesn’t usually deal in secondhand wares.”

“That’s marvelous.”

“Isn’t it? I’m so pleased. I wonder if Mrs Shepherd had any idea.”

Weston didn’t answer. He was getting an idea of his own, but not one he was willing to speak of at the moment.

It was still on his mind when Mansfield sought them out and told them lunch was served.

Thornton Hall

Lydia waited several hours. Not surprised that there was no news, she also realized that Penny had come to check with her a little more often. In an effort to rescue the little girl, Lydia had told her she would go to Thornton Hall and check on Marianne’s progress. She had called for the carriage and now made her way quietly up the wide staircase at her brother’s home.

Things were still as she climbed. Not until she reached the upstairs landing did she hear the soft footsteps of Mrs Walker—Marianne’s mother—as she paced in the hall. As soon as Mrs Walker spotted Lydia, she came and hugged her.

It was while the women embraced that they heard a tiny infant’s cry. For a moment their eyes met in shock before Mrs Walker broke down. Wordlessly Lydia held her and let the older woman cry, fully understanding the need.

When they heard a nurse bustle from the bedroom, Jennings at her heels, both women turned and waited.

Jennings beamed at them. “A girl. A perfect little girl.”

“And Mari?” her mother asked.

“Doing fine.”

Mrs Walker all but sagged with relief. Lydia saw her to a downstairs salon and ordered tea, but she didn’t linger. Much as she wanted to go upstairs and see Marianne and this new little person, right now she was needed at Tipton. She had to tell three children that they had a baby sister.

Brown Manor

Anne looked through her sewing basket a third time before sitting back with a sigh. She had a jacket that needed mending, but the dark blue thread she’d used last time was gone. She hated the very thought of asking Mr Weston for anything, but right now she felt she had no choice.

She was on her way downstairs to find him when a clock chimed in the hall. She stood and listened to the soft sounds it made and was given a chance to notice her reflection in the hall mirror.

How will I ever wear this dress to London?

Anne stood in discouragement for a moment but then realized she just might have time to do something about it. She continued toward her husband’s study, hoping he wasn’t too busy. He called for her to enter the moment she knocked.

“Are you terribly busy, Mr Weston?”

“No, please come in. Sit down.”

“Oh, I won’t stay long,” Anne said, almost immediately seeing she would not have the courage to say everything that was on her mind. “I just wanted to let you know I’ll be going into Collingbourne in the morning.”

“Oh, fine. Be sure and let Mansfield know of your needs.”

“I will, thank you.”

Anne was back out the door in record time, telling herself she was going to have to be more careful about disturbing him. He’d had papers all over his desk and obviously been ensconced with work.

For a moment Anne stood with her back to the closed portal, trying to figure out how she would explain her actions when she didn’t go to town the next day.

“Maybe I could spend the day in the gardens,” she whispered softly to herself. “Or possibly I’ll think of something else to sell.”

Anne finally walked away, her steps slow as she realized that selling something would bring embarrassment to her well-established husband.

Mansfield, who had come upon her but not been seen, stood watching her move out of sight. His eyes went to the study door for a moment, his mind quickly making some deductions. A moment later he was not at all surprised to enter the study and find his employer buried in his books.

Thornton Hall

“What will you call her?” James asked of Marianne when the children visited her and the new baby for the first time.

“This is Catherine Anne,” Marianne told them. “Do you like it?”

Agreeing that they did, the boys smiled and even laughed a little at the wrinkly red person in Marianne’s arms, but Penny did not utter a word through this entire interchange. Jennings and Marianne exchanged several looks, but not until the boys went on their way did Jennings speak directly to Penny.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

“Is something on your mind?”

Penny looked up at him but didn’t answer.

“You can tell me.”

“Emma said sometimes babies die.” Tears had come to Penny’s eyes on this announcement.

“What caused you to talk about that?”

“I don’t know. It wasn’t today, but I remember her saying it.”

Marianne offered the baby to Jennings so she could motion Penny to come close.

“I want to hold you, Penny,” she said, needing this little girl so much at the moment.

“Are you afraid that Catherine will die?” Penny asked.

“No, but I hate it that you’re afraid, and I want to hold you.”

Jennings put Catherine in a cradle across the room and joined Penny and his wife on the bed. “I need to tell you something, Penny,” he began. “Many people don’t believe that our God is a God of great purpose. They believe He haphazardly flings His power across the universe, but that’s not so. No matter how painful it would be to lose Catherine, God does not do things without a plan. We don’t always understand His reason, but we can trust that God knows what’s best for us.”

“Papa died.”

“Yes, he did.”

“I miss him, but I have you and Marianne.”

“That’s right. And you need to remember that even though we don’t know the exact reason why your father died, God has taken care of you, Thomas, and James.”

“Can I pray that Catherine won’t die?”

“What do you think?”

Penny looked to Marianne, but she only smiled down at her. Penny looked back to Jennings.

“I think yes, but I have to remember the part about God’s will.”