Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Two Years Later

4 May 1813

Dear Miss Taylor,

I pray I don't overstep with this letter. I debated before finally deciding to take the risk, believing you a woman who would accept my correspondence in its intended spirit.

A little frown creased Anne's brow at this first paragraph. The missive had been delivered this morning, and she tucked it into her sleeve until she could read it privately. When Emma decided to go to the greenhouse to choose blooms for an upcoming dinner party, she excused herself to her room.

She didn't recognize the handwriting and quickly looked to the valediction.

Mr. Thomas Weston

Her heart skipped a beat. Why would Mr. Weston, an unmarried gentleman, be writing to her? Although not entirely appropriate, she was too intrigued to refrain from reading more .

I have greatly enjoyed furthering our acquaintance over the past two years.

Two years and one month - the precise length of time since he'd produced an umbrella and sheltered her on the walk from Highbury to Hartfield. She, too, had delighted in coming to know him better.

You are a woman of admirable character, gentle spirit, and a kind heart. I have long observed the way you've guided Miss Woodhouse and have found it to be not only irreproachable, but with an integrity that does you credit and doubtless shaped her own moral compass.

Anne pressed a hand to one flushed cheek.

You have unending patience with even the most vexing person. I have seen your compassion and recall how you've tended to those who are grieving or infirm. When those in the village are in need, Hartfield always responds generously, and I cannot help but wonder if that is due to your influence upon the household, and particularly upon its young mistress.

When had he noticed any of that? She'd never been aware of his scrutiny, and her actions weren't because of any desire to be recognized or praised.

But his words warmed her, and her stomach fluttered at his admiration.

Might you wish to walk with me sometime, so that we may deepen our friendship? I could call upon you at Hartfield, or we could meet elsewhere, if you wished for more privacy than a visit there might afford. I esteem you more than I can say.

Anne's thoughts came to a halt.

What did this mean?

Anne was treated as part of the Woodhouse family, but as Emma's governess, and now companion, some men might think dallying with her acceptable. She knew, however, that Mr. Weston was not one of them.

He never treated her with anything less than respect and kindness. She had, in fact, never seen him treat anyone disrespectfully or unkindly.

She trusted Mr. Weston, and she liked him.

Should you wish to hear no further, send no response and I'll respect your wishes. I hope that I haven't created an awkwardness between us. I should hate to damage our friendship in any respect, but I long to know if you share my feeling that something more might be between us.

Regardless, I will continue to enjoy our acquaintance and count myself fortunate to know you.

With the greatest regard,

Mr. Thomas Weston

Anne's eyes moved back to the start of the letter and read it again, giving her mind time to progress from shocked pleasure to something more temperate. She needed to consider this from a practical perspective.

Gossip might spread if anyone discovered that Anne met Mr. Weston for a walk. Hartfield servants would discuss it amongst themselves and the talk might even make its way to other households. She always hated being a target for gossip and lived her life in such a way that she rarely engendered anything above mild interest in others.

But she pictured the handsome Mr. Weston, gazing down at her fondly as they walked arm in arm by a babbling stream. Then she pictured some future evening, sitting side by side with him next to a cozy fire on a cold night, as she knitted and he read aloud from one of their favorite books.

She long ago gave up hope that she would have a home, and possibly a family, of her own. She relished the picture in her mind now, though. Not simply because taking a walk might lead to a once abandoned dream, but because the dream would be with him . The man who occupied so much of her thoughts over the past two years, no matter how hard she tried to put him out of her mind.

With a determination and excitement she hadn't experienced in some time, Anne took up her quill, dipped it into the inkpot, and began to write.

5 May 1813

Dear Mr. Weston,

I was both astonished and pleased to receive your note yesterday. I hope that you will excuse my forthright words, but I daresay that neither of us is interested in playing the games of the very young.

Not to say that either of us is aged, but we are both mature adults who have experienced enough of life to know our own minds and have some sense of what we wish for ourselves.

Thomas had to smile at Miss Taylor's candor. Although correct, it surprised him that she would lay it out so plainly, even if she did seem an eminently practical person.

Although I'm not the paragon you may think me to be, I'm honored by your words. I have merely done my Christian duty both to Miss Woodhouse and to Highbury.

Miss Taylor might view it that way. Thomas, however, was aware that many people were content to sit by and let others do the helping, preferring to keep to themselves and not become involved with the grieving, the ill, or the destitute. Through her nature of helping without seeking praise or even notice, Miss Taylor showed her fine character.

I confess that I find it refreshing to walk out on a particularly fine day, steam rising up from the damp meadows as the sun begins to warm them, birds twittering their morning greetings, and the fresh smell of a new day filling the air. I would be delighted to share a walk with you.

With Miss Woodhouse's penchant for on dits, perhaps it would be best if we meet a little distance away from Hartfield. I would not wish you for to become the subject of gossip; I pray you understand.

Thomas did understand. It was the sensible thing to do, at least until they could determine if there was anything more than friendship between the two of them, which would be easier to do without the scrutiny of the entire village.

He was relieved she hadn't spurned his request. He thought she might, in fact, have feelings closely resembling his own.

A little thrill shimmered through at the thought.

He turned his eyes back to her last paragraph, asking him if he might be able to meet her two mornings hence and giving a location. Thomas ran his fingers across her closing.

Fondly,

Miss Anne Taylor

His skin thrummed in anticipation for the day after tomorrow.

They walked for several minutes, her hand tucked in the crook of his arm. He was wildly conscious of the pressure of it, yet having her by his side was undeniably right.

Anne shared with him about her upbringing in Reading, some twenty miles to the northeast. Thomas was grateful for whatever twist of fate brought her to Highbury, rather than London, where he might never have encountered her.

"If I'm not being too intrusive, Miss Taylor, what led you to your current position as the Woodhouses' governess? Or should I say companion now?"

She hesitated, remaining silent for several moments.

"Do pardon me, Miss Taylor. I didn't mean to pry. Shall we return to discussing the fine weather? Or perhaps you'll permit me to point out the rather excellent specimen of nuthatch in the oak tree just to the right of the path. Do you enjoy birdwatching?"

Thomas hoped he hadn't spoiled the day with his inquisitiveness. He desired to know her better but could content himself with waiting for that to happen, if that's what she wished.

Perhaps she did not.

Her hand lightly squeezed his arm. "I beg your forgiveness, Mr. Weston. I've not spoken about my departure from Reading for years, but...I'd like to tell you about it, if you wish to hear."

At his nod, her face turned pensive. She looked ahead to the nuthatch, fixing her gaze upon the ruffle of its feathers in the breeze. The bird trilled at them as they passed.

She took a deep breath. "I expected my life to unfold quite differently. There was a young man, someone I'd known since childhood. His name was Geoffrey.

"Everyone assumed we would marry once grown. He proposed to me upon joining the army and receiving a posting to India. But I was only six and ten, and my parents wished for me to wait to marry him until he returned, and I, wishing to be a dutiful daughter, agreed."

Anne's face was wistful. "Except that he never returned from his voyage. It barely even began. His ship sank during a terrible storm, and only a few survivors managed to stay alive until rescued by a passing brig.

"He was not among them," she finished quietly.

Thomas halted. He couldn't resist placing his hand over hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I am deeply sorry. I didn't mean to bring back painful memories."

Anne shook her head. "You didn't. What we had together was sweet and lovely, but more friendship than love. I don't know how well we would have suited over time. I grieved that he died so young, along with far too many others, but my memories are more bittersweet than painful."

He nodded as they began walking again. "I believe I know how you feel. I was happy with my late wife, for the most part."

Thomas looked away, self-conscious about what he would reveal but wanting Anne to understand him fully. "As the daughter of a prominent, wealthy family, she married well below her station with me." He heard a slight sound from Anne and headed off any protest with a wave of his hand, forging ahead.

"I'm not being self-deprecating. Although I'd attained the rank of captain and was comfortably situated, the life I provided her was much humbler than her upbringing.

"In an ill-advised effort to keep her happy, I spent beyond my means. When she died shortly after delivering our, I was left with no mother for Frank and a sizable amount of debt.

"I loved her, but two decades later, I understand now that we weren't well matched and would have been better off marrying others. Although it was difficult to send him away, I still believe allowing Frank to go with the Churchills to be the right choice." Thomas stopped short at sharing such a personal matter when he and Miss Taylor were barely acquainted.

"My apologies, Miss Taylor. I hadn't intended to establish such a somber tone for our outing, nor to drag you into my past mistakes."

The soft press of Anne's hand upon his arm brought his attention solely back to her, and the joy and comfort he felt in her presence. Her eyes lit with understanding and empathy.

"Thank you for telling me. I daresay we've all made decisions in our past that we realize, sometimes even as we're making them, are misguided. But I'm sure that you were a devoted and faithful husband to your wife and that you would have continued to be so had she lived.

"I'm exceedingly sorry that you had to bear such sad events." She hesitated slightly before continuing, "You did as well as possible by your son, and you put his needs ahead of your own. That took courage."

Gratefulness flooded him for both her understanding and for the absolution she gave him from the guilt he'd carried for years, as though he'd pawned Frank off onto relatives for his own gain. The Churchills were better positioned both financially and socially, but he'd always questioned whether his primary motive was selfishness.

"Do you really believe so?" he asked, desperate for her reassurance.

"I know so," she answered. "You are a man of integrity and compassion, and you would not have chosen that course for your son if you didn't believe it to be the best one for him."

She paused, then asked gingerly, "Are you able to spend time with him?"

"Oh, yes." A fond warmth filled his chest at the thought of Frank. "My London concerns require a trip at least once per year, and he makes a point to see me. We meet away from the family home, of course, as his aunt is of delicate health and Frank doesn't wish to disturb her." He trailed off .

He'd contented himself with little more than yearly visits as Mrs. Churchill had long believed it best for Frank's sake to limit their contact. Thomas hoped he might see Frank more often once his son reached his majority, but his aunt seemed to always require his assistance.

Anne smiled at him brightly. "I'm sure he looks forward to your visits together with great anticipation. How could he not? Now, tell me about your business in London."

Thomas' relief at the change in subject was considerable. Anne had a sensitivity to others he'd always found admirable, and he greatly appreciated it now.