The Proposal

  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.”

  “Pride is such an ugly thing, my friends, and most of what we’ve talked about today would not be an issue if hearts were humble,” Pastor Hurst said near the end of the sermon. “The book of Proverbs even says that God detests pride. It’s abominable to Him. And yet many of us live day in and day out thinking we’re just fine.”

  The pastor held up his Bible. “We say things such as, ‘I don’t have to agree with that Book.’ Or, ‘Who are you to tell me that I have to change and do things God’s way?’ Well, friend,” he continued, placing the Bible back on the podium. “I’m just a man. Anything I’ve told you, I’ve told you with the Bible as my standard. You also need to make the Bible your standard. You can’t do that unless you read and meditate on this Book for yourself.

  “Turn with me to one more passage,” the pastor said as though he’d had a last-minute thought. “This time to Psalms. Psalm 121 reads, ‘I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the Lord, who made heaven and earth. He will not suffer thy foot to be moved; he that keepeth thee will not slumber. Behold, he who keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep.’

  “Did you hear that? This God who wants us to know His Word and live for Him never needs to sleep. He’s willing to watch over us at all times, keeping our feet on the path. Are there sacrifices to living a life for Christ? Yes! Is it always easy and fun? Of course not, but keep in mind that the God we serve is unlike anyone you’ve ever known or will know. He’s great and powerful, and if we treat sin lightly, He is not amused. But for the heart that is humble before Him, He is a mighty saving God in whom we can abide from this day forward and into eternity.” Pastor paused and smiled at the group before him. “Let’s pray and thank God for all His benefits.”

  The people in the service began to stand and visit almost as soon as Pastor spoke his last word. Palmer and Lydia began to discuss something, and Jennings stood close by and listened as Lydia asked her husband about a particular verse.

  While Jennings listened to Palmer’s explanation and the importance of thankfulness in all situations, he happened to glance up to find a young woman’s eyes on him. As soon as she’d been found out, she dropped her eyes and turned back to the group of other young women. It was not the first time it had happened, and again Jennings was reminded of how different the people in this church were than his contacts in London. This time, however, he also realized that his sister never pushed him to meet or show interest in any of the women. It occurred to
him that at one time she’d been something of a matchmaker, but he’d seen no sign of that this time.

  “Are you coming to the house, Jennings?” he suddenly found Lydia asking.

  “I believe we will, Lydia, but not until we stop and see how Marianne Walker is faring. The children, Penny especially, were concerned when they heard about her ankle, so we’ll stop to see if she’s up to company.”

  “Give her our best,” Palmer said before Lydia could open her mouth to ask if they could join them.

  “Certainly,” Jennings agreed, never having noticed the way his sister opened her mouth, closed it, and then gave her husband a questioning look.

  “What happened just now?” Lydia asked when they were alone, her face confused.

  Palmer took her hand. “It’s good to have Jennings making this step. It’s excellent that he’s willing to go and visit Marianne just because the children are concerned. Doing those things on his own shows tremendous growth. It’s also nice that his children can visit Marianne without having to share her with our children.”

  “Good point,” Lydia agreed, even as she saw that Lizzy, Penny, and Emma were headed in their direction, determined looks on their small faces. She could see what they were going to ask and knew what Palmer’s answer would be.

  After the reply, all three faces reflected the same confusion that Lydia’s had, but they were not given the explanation she’d been afforded. Jennings came looking for Penny just a few minutes later, and that was the end of that.

  Blackburn Manor

  “Mr Jennings and the children are here,” Mrs Walker told Marianne. “Are you up to a visit?”

  “Yes,” Marianne said with great pleasure, setting her Bible aside, her hands going to her hair until she realized what she was doing and stopped.

  Just a few moments later, Jennings and the children were shown into the library where Marianne was comfortably situated on one of the settees. Spotting her, Penny wasted no time. That little girl scurried over to Marianne’s side and into the arms that were waiting. The boys followed at a slower pace, but smiles lit their faces when Marianne greeted them.

  “Isn’t this a lovely surprise! Please sit down. Have you just been to church?” Marianne asked.

  “Yes.”

  “How was everyone?”

  “Fine,” Thomas answered for the group.

  Marianne glanced at Jennings just then, who asked, “How is the ankle?”

  Marianne rolled her eyes. “I shall be a lady of leisure for several days.”

  “Still swollen?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Walt said you were having a tough go of it this month,” James put in. “A blackened eye and now a twisted ankle. He said your guardian angels must be worn out.”

  Marianne found this highly amusing, and James smiled at her mirth.

  “I brought you a flower,” Penny said.

  “Did you?”

  Penny nodded but said nothing else.

  Marianne looked to Jennings for help.

  “It was sat upon in the carriage,” Jennings informed her dryly, his own gaze amused.

  Marianne had all she could do not to laugh again. Nearly all of what Marianne knew of Jennings was through his sister. At times Lydia had described him in myriad fashions: hard, difficult, uncommunicative, vulnerable, lost, needing help. But just now the only impression Marianne received was of a man who had been parenting for a long time. He was relaxed and comfortable with the children, and they seemed more comfortable around him than ever before.

  “Tell me about your house,” Marianne invited, and the children took turns describing their rooms.

  “We have a maze,” James said.

  “I’ve heard of the maze at Thornton Hall,” Marianne said. “Is it fun?”

  “We haven’t ventured very far, but if someone will stand at Penny’s window, they can see directly down.”

  “That’s a comfort. You won’t be afraid to get lost if you can look up and find someone guiding you.”

  Her words, innocently said, had the most profound effect on Jennings’ heart. In those days before they’d left London, when Penny had been hurt and he knew it had been his own fault, Jennings had felt very afraid. Having come to Lydia and her family and found guidance had made all the difference in the world.

  And I haven’t told her, Jennings realized silently. I haven’t said anything to Liddy or Palmer, and they’ve done so much.

  “Sea bathing!” Marianne’s words startled Jennings back to the conversation. “Where did you do that?”

  “At Weston-super-Mare. Our father took us each year.”

  “It wasn’t far from our home,” Thomas put in quietly.

  “How fun for you! Would you stay for a time, or did you live close enough to go home the same day?”

  “We would stay one or two nights.”

  “Was the water cold?”

  All three children nodded yes over this question, their eyes growing large as they remembered. Marianne could see that the recollection was a fond one.

  “When did you all learn to swim?”

  “When we were little,” Penny told her, causing her brothers to react. Thomas smiled, but James said, “You’re still little.”

  “Not as little,” Penny told him, looking hurt. “I meant littler.”

  “You knew what she meant, didn’t you, James?” Jennings put in, his voice hinting of a quiet reprimand.

  James admitted that he had.

  “Marianne,” Penny spoke up.

  “Yes, dear?”

  “Will you teach me to shoot with the bow and arrow?”

  Marianne had not been expecting this.

  “Well, dear,” she answered, feeling a bit awkward and keeping her eyes down or on Penny’s sweet face. “I think Mr Jennings might be more suited to teach you.”

  “On the contrary, Miss Walker,” Jennings put in kindly. “I’ve seen you shoot. I’m sure you could teach Penny very well.”

  Marianne felt herself blush. After they had lost to the Palmers, she’d assumed he found her incompetent.

  “I would be happy to teach you, Penny. Anytime you’d like.”

  “It looks as if the boys will need to head back to school before Penny does, so maybe we should schedule those lessons for later in the summer when Penny and I are looking for things to do.”

  “That would be fine. I’ll plan on that.”

  For the first time Jennings noticed Marianne’s red face and wondered at the cause. Glancing toward her feet, which were under a light coverlet, he remembered what she’d been through the day before. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if she had gained a bit of a fever from the experience, but he thought it might be time to draw this visit to a close.

  “Is there anything we can get for you, Miss Walker?”

  “No, I’m quite comfortable, thank you.”

  “Well, children, I think then that we need to give Miss Walker some peace.”

  “Thank you for coming,” Marianne told them sincerely and smiled when Penny gave her a hug.

  With lots of smiles and waves, the foursome bid the convalescing woman goodbye and made their way to the carriage.

  “Just so you know, Thomas,” Jennings said almost as soon as the carriage was underway, “I haven’t forgotten about the trip to see your home. We’ll go sometime after your birthdays.”

  This was such good news that Thomas could not keep the tears from his eyes. Knowing that Jennings saw the display of emotion, he was terribly embarrassed and only too glad when that man made no comment.

  “Can Marianne come with us?” Penny asked.

  “I don’t see why not,” Jennings said calmly, “if she would like to.”

  “What about our birthday party?” James wished to know. “May we invite Marianne to our party?”

  “Certainly.”

  “When we go to Morehouse,” James asked also, “will there be time to go on to Weston-super-Mare?”

  “We can make time. How woul
d that be?”

  “That would be very nice,” the young man said with a sigh. “Thank you.”

  By then Thomas had composed himself. He stared at Jennings until that man’s eyes met his.

  “Thank you” was all Thomas said, his voice quiet. Jennings nodded. He had been reminded again how fresh their grief was. Most of the time they did so well that it slipped to the back of his mind. But more amazing to him than anything else was how wonderful it felt to do things for these children.

  To the children’s delight and surprise, Jennings did not take them to Thornton Hall but to Tipton. Always ready to see Frank, Walt, Emma, and Lizzy, the three Jennings children piled from the carriage, the Palmer children meeting them as they stepped down, talking almost as soon as their feet were on the ground.

  Lydia had some refreshments ready, and while the children settled on the veranda, the adults took the salon.

  “How was Marianne?” Lydia wished to know.

  “I think doing well. By the time we left I thought she looked a bit flushed and wondered if her injury might have affected her rather severely, but I didn’t question her in front of the children.”

  Palmer looked quite concerned about this, but Lydia had an inkling that Marianne’s flushed face had little to do with her ankle. Knowing she would never be able to explain his effect on women to her brother, Lydia kept her mouth closed. Palmer, on the other hand, caught the look on his wife’s face.

  “So what does your week look like, Jennings? Are you and the children busy?”

  “Somewhat, but Penny seems a bit tired at night and is still crying easily.”

  “Of all the rooms to have bees coming in at the window, it had to be hers. But I wouldn’t worry, Jennings; she’ll adjust,” Palmer said confidently. “It’s tough being both mother and father, but you’re doing a fine job.”

  Jennings barely nodded to this, and Lydia wondered what was on his mind. She thought she might have a chance to ask until just an hour later when Jennings called for the children and said they must be on their way.

  “Get in children,” he instructed his charges when they were at the carriage on the drive. “I’ll be right with you.”