Jewel of Gresham Green (40 page)

“She’ll be fine. She has a loving family to help her mend.”

“It won’t stop children from teasing her when she’s older.”

“Yes, I’m afraid that’s so. But hopefully, knowing how much she’s loved will give her some armor.”

He looked over to the empty soup bowl upon the tray. “Good. You took some nourishment.”

“It was delicious. Is your mother here still? I’d like to thank her.”

“She and Father were here only briefly, to see about you. You’re the heroine of Gresham, by the way.”

“Heroine?” A dry laugh escaped her lips. “Now you’re teasing.”

“The woods were full of men searching for you. They’ve told their wives, because at least eight stopped me on my way to Doctor Rhodes’ to ask if you were all right.”

“Incredible.”

“Would you like something for pain?”

“No, not now.”

He picked up her hand, gently. “I must beg your forgiveness, Loretta.”

“Forgive you?” She shook her head. “Whatever for, Philip?”

He swallowed. “I could have looked for you earlier, if I hadn’t believed the worst.”

“You thought I left with Mr. Gibbs?”

He related Jewel’s sighting of the coach, the absent jewelry and purse.

“And then my disappearance seemed too great a coincidence,” she said. “I can’t fault you for that, Philip. But my jewelry’s in the back of your wardrobe.”

“Mine?”

She sent a self-conscious look toward the door and lowered her voice. “I was afraid Becky might . . . plunder.”

“You haven’t said if you’ll forgive me.”

She smiled up at him. “I do.”

Her fair hair had dried in a tangled mess that smelled of the woods. Jewel was heating water for a bath downstairs. The scratch across her cheek did not need stitches, but would leave a scar. Yet she had never looked more beautiful.

“You know,” she said thoughtfully, “while I would never wish to repeat last night, perhaps it was the best thing that could have happened. For two reasons.”

“And what are they?”

“Well, if it atoned for the scene I made in the shop, it was worth it. If I’m going to live here, I wouldn’t want everyone believing I’m a fallen woman.”

“And the second?”

“Becky was foremost in my mind, because I feared she was in danger. But through it all, I desperately wanted you to come for me.” She stared up into his eyes. “You said I should fill my mind with good things. You’re the best thing in my life, Philip. May we start over?”

All of his plans for caution flew out of the window. Throat thickening, he said, “Oh, Loretta . . . there is nothing I’d like more.”

“Ouch!” she said.

He loosened his grip upon her hand.

She laughed, and he smiled, once he was over the shock of having hurt her.

“I’ve treated your family shamefully,” she said. “I’ll love them as my own. You’ll see.”

“That will make me very happy. But we’ll have to love them over a distance. Visits back and forth. We need to be in London.”

“But your dream . . . you’re so happy here.”

“There are two of us in this marriage. I was happy there during those first good months. And I can be happy anywhere with your love.”

“You have it, Philip,” she said, pressing his hand to her cheek.

“Will I still have it when I inform your father I wish to go into private practice as a dispensary surgeon?”

She gaped at him. “Philip?”

His heart sank. If she intended, still, to be her papa’s little girl, their conversation had been for naught.

“You’ll have the best of both worlds.”

No bath had ever felt so good, even though the water stung her scratches. She sat at her dressing table in her nightgown, hair bundled in a towel and fresh bandages upon her hands. Surprisingly, the scratch across her cheek was not as devastating as she would have thought. A night lost in the woods could put things in perspective.

Soft knocks sounded.

“Come in.”

In the mirror she watched Philip enter.

“Jewel said she’ll comb your hair after she puts Becky to bed.”

“Will you do it?”

“Why, yes.”

As he crossed the rug, she studied him again in the mirror and was struck with the change in him. She wheeled around on the bench. “Your beard!”

He rubbed his smooth-shaven cheek. “I wasn’t so keen on it anyway. I only kept it out of stubbornness. There’s a bit of willful child in me, too.”

She smiled and handed him the comb, and unwound the towel from her head. “Begin at the ends or you’ll pluck me bald. I’m afraid it’s going to take a long time to get the snarls out.”

“I have all night.”

A few minutes later, Jewel, also wearing wrapper over her nightclothes, brought in a pot of cocoa with two cups, along with an envelope.

“This was on the table.”

“Thank you,” Philip said. “I forgot it was there. My parents brought it over with the soup.”

“Will there be anything else?” Jewel asked in a tone that begged refusal.

Loretta laughed. She had forgotten the previous night had been long for others, as well. “Yes, Jewel. Go to bed.”

“Straightaway, ma’am.”

“It’s from my father,” Loretta said, staring at the envelope. She rather wished he had not seen it, for even though she had admitted planning to borrow money to lend to Mr. Gibbs, the reminder could drive the pleasantness out of the room. While Philip poured the cocoa, Loretta took out the page.

“Dearest Loretta,

“That you would demand so outrageous a sum with no explanation
convinces me of the notion that struck my mind after you
left London; I have undermined your marriage by showering you
with things not yet attainable by your husband. I have sold the
horses and carriage and found another position for Tom. Most of
London takes public transport. A brisk stroll down to the hansom
stand will be tonic for your health.”

The willful child in her rose up to say, “Mother and Father have a landau
and
coach.”

Philip set her cup and saucer upon the dressing table before her. “They can afford them.”

She took a sip of warm cocoa, then another, and made a face in the mirror. “We should give back the house, too. Move into some dismal little rooms in Whitechapel. That would show them.”

“The house was our wedding gift. They’ll be hurt if we give it back.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. Besides . . . it’s a fine house.”

She set cup onto saucer, twisted around to smile up at him. “It’s not too late to fill it with good memories, Philip.”

He smiled down at her. “It’s not too late.”

“That’s a hint to kiss me.”

His eyes shone. Had she never noticed their rich blueness before? With a tender hand between her shoulders, he leaned down and kissed her, sweetly, with a restrained passion she had not realized how much she missed.

“M-m-m. Cocoa,” he said.

She touched the scratch upon her cheek. “I’m glad you shaved the beard.”

He was starting to stand when she caught his head with her bandaged hands and whispered, “This place could use a good memory or two.”

He raised back far enough to give her a stunned look. “No. Absolutely not.”

“You no longer find me attractive?” she teased, knowing from the look in his eyes that was not the case.

“You’re beautiful. But your ordeal . . .”

“I’m fine, Philip.”

“Jewel and Becky . . .”

She tugged on his earlobe. “They’re not above
your
room.”

“Loretta and I would like to make an announcement,” Philip said in the vicarage dining room three days later.

“You’re returning to London,” Aleda said flatly.

“Within the week. We can’t thank you enough for lending us your cottage. And we plan to visit here once a month. At the very least, take an early train on a Saturday.”

“Now remember . . . you’ve just come from church,” Jonathan teased.

Elizabeth touched her husband’s hand. “That would be very thoughtful, Philip and Loretta.”

“Thoughtfulness has nothing to do with it.” Philip smiled at his father and mother. “We need you. All of you.”

He laid out his plan to set up a private practice attached to Saint George’s Hospital. “I’ll help Doctor Rhodes find someone to take my place here. But already he has letters from some very qualified doctors.”

Throughout his speech he tried to read his parents’ faces. Sadness? Resignation? Relief?

“May I also make an announcement?” Loretta asked.

“But of course,” Elizabeth said.

She stood, looked at the faces around the table. “My husband has forgotten to mention that we hope you will visit us often, as well, and stay in our home.”

Mother finally spoke. “Thank you, Loretta.”

Loretta stared across at her with sheepish smile. “And the next time, we will treat you . . .” She cleared her throat. “
I
will treat you as honored guests, for I behaved very badly the last time you visited.”

“Not so,” Father said charitably.

An uncomfortable silence followed, broken by laughter when Loretta wrinkled her nose at him and said, “Now remember, Vicar, you’ve just come from church.”

Chapter 36

Anxious to hear from Gabriel, Aleda had taken to waiting at the letter box, usually with Becky accompanying her. Aleda was glad for her company. The girl’s questions about beginning school soon distracted Aleda from checking the time every half minute.

“What if the other children don’t like me?”

“They’ll like you. If there are some who don’t, you must remind yourself of all of us who do like you, and that eventually they let you out of school.”

It was so good to have her watch again. God bless Mr. Trumble, for asking Mr. Stillman to keep an eye out for it as he visited pawn lenders for war medals. She had had to pay almost the full value to redeem it, but hopefully, that would be returned soon.

Mr. Gibbs had obviously found it. And he obviously thought he was clever for pawning it in Shrewsbury. But how arrogant, and even silly of him, to sign the ticket
Ronald Tibbs
.

The sight of Mr. Jones trundling toward them with his letter sack pushed all thought of Mr. Gibbs from her mind. She hurried to meet him.

“I believe this is what you’ve been waiting for,” he said, handing her an envelope with Gabriel’s familiar script.

12 August 1884
Dear Aleda,

I am pleased to inform you that my editors at Macmillan’s
would like to meet with you on Tuesday, the twenty-sixth of August. We will have the house prepared for your and Mrs. Libby’s and
Becky’s arrival on Monday.

Very truly yours,
Gabriel

Aleda turned over the page, looked in the envelope. True, Gabriel was concise, but this was maddening. Meet with her? To offer a contract? If so, could he not spare the few extra words?

“Is it good news, Miss Hollis?”

Aleda gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I think so.”

Back at the cottage, she carried the letter up to the guest room, where Jewel was putting fresh sheets upon the bed.

“How wonderful!” Jewel cried, throwing her arms about her.

“But it says nothing about a contract.”

“But why else would they want to meet with you?”

“Well, yes.” Aleda felt better.

“But why does it say Becky and me?” Jewel asked.

“You’re to come with me. Wouldn’t you like to see London?”

“We’d love to, but . . .”

“As my traveling companions,” Aleda explained.

She could say more, but thought it best to allow the courtship— for certainly this was what it was—to flow along naturally for now. And besides, Gabriel had not given her the liberty to express his feelings.

“I wish he would have said more,” she said. “Did all the editors like it? Are there parts they’ll want me to rewrite? He’s so maddeningly concise.”

Jewel gave her a wry smile. “So, you’re not happy?”

Aleda smiled back. “I’m overjoyed! In fact, I’ll probably run all the way to the vicarage to show my parents.”

That night, with Becky curled into the curve of her side, Jewel thought again what a pity it was that Miss Hollis did not wish to marry Mr. Patterson. He would revere a wife, as Doctor Hollis revered Mrs. Hollis. As Norman had revered her.

But few emotions were set in stone. She prayed again for a miracle.