On Sparrow Hill (28 page)

He was behind her too quickly, his hands on her shoulders. “Since I refuse to volunteer making you a widow, we’ll have to consider the options I proposed.”

She shook her head, something forming in the pit of her stomach she’d never felt before. A battle of the greatest proportion, such odds she had no clue how to overcome. She’d been called to be a servant and yet here was someone trying to pull her back, inviting her to live the life she’d convinced herself wasn’t for her. A wife, an emissary to him and not to God alone. It couldn’t be, even though her heart suddenly yearned for that very thing, if Simon was to be part of such a picture.

She turned to him, unprepared for how close he stood. She needed to flee, though her feet would not carry her. His lips came down on hers and she wanted to stop him but didn’t.

Until a new sound came from the doorway. Gleeful clapping. “Oh, Simon, you’re kissing Miss Berrie! Just like Papa used to kiss Mummy. That means only one thing. You’re married now!”

Berrie pulled herself from Simon’s gentle grasp, unable to look at either him or his sister. She flew past them both, not stopping until she reached the privacy of her room. If there had been a lock, she would have used it.

43

* * *

Rebecca stared at the closed door. Lady Caroline was transferring residence from Lady Elise’s cottage to Quentin’s London flat?

Quentin had called that morning to let her know he was going to London. How much more private was his flat, without having to share his mother’s company and the entourage she normally invited to the country cottage.

“Well, that was odd,” Dana said to Rebecca. “Why did Lady Caroline come?”

Rebecca tried summoning a smile but couldn’t. Oh, to have the ability to command one as contagious as Lady Caroline’s, even if it was two-dimensional. “To let me know she’s back in Quentin’s life and there’s nothing separating them now.”

“I’m not sure about that. Do you think her faith sounded sincere?”

“She’s moving into his flat. If Quentin’s interest is reignited, that’s all that matters.” How logical she sounded, how completely detached from the situation. She knew the anesthetizing shock of the visit would wear off and she must face the possibility of losing a future she’d only begun hoping for. The fear was there already, beginning to seep through like a fog just starting to gather. Despite her hesitation to start seeing Quentin, despite all of her cautions, she’d been unable to prevent imagining life with him. There was no specific line when her imagination of the future had turned to something she counted on, only the realization that the line had already been crossed. Here she was, with nothing to protect herself against its loss.

Lady Caroline was moving into his flat. How long before that was in the papers?

All her life Rebecca had seen God’s hand, God’s timing. Her father had told her that her own birth had been God’s timing, having been conceived when her mother’s body was healthy and strong enough to sustain such a challenge. Since then there had been countless other instances. When Rebecca was little, just when she began begging her father for a dog all her own, God had softened his heart, and a neighbor showed up wanting to give a puppy away. And when she was older, Rebecca made a commitment to support a missionary from their church without the faintest idea how she would earn the seventy-five pounds she’d pledged. Within a week she had an afternoon dog-walking job, one that would last through the summer. Payment: seventy-five pounds. Other cases ranged from dramatic to mundane, but always, always they were there. God’s timing revealed itself to Rebecca nearly every day.

When Quentin had arrived this past spring, just before Dana arrived as well, it was like God stepping in and giving Rebecca all she’d lacked in the past few years: a future with a man she could love, a friend with whom to share the excitement.

But maybe she’d misread that timing. Had God allowed Dana to arrive when she did, to face her own struggle and need a friend, so the loss Rebecca might face would be put in perspective? Compared to what Dana faced, the loss of a relationship that barely had time to bud was inconsequential.

She walked up the stairs, wanting what Dana had wanted all week: solitude, to keep company only with her worries. But Dana followed her. “You should talk to him, Rebecca. I’ve been taking up too much of your time lately, but you don’t need to babysit me anymore. You need to ask Quentin what’s going on.”

Rebecca stopped, frigid. “You’re a fine one to give that advice, Dana. Every time your husband calls, you tell him you’re busy finishing up the records, that you’ll come back to him tomorrow. Three tomorrows have passed and here you are.”

Dana averted her gaze. For a moment Rebecca regretted her tone, but she stood firm against the guilt. Maybe sometimes friends were supposed to offer a proverbial kick, and it was only now, knowing she would have to face her own insecurities, that she could suggest Dana do the same.

The telephone rang in Rebecca’s office and she hurried to take it, if only to avoid the rest of the conversation with Dana. Rebecca picked up the receiver and heard Quentin’s voice. Her heart jabbed at her chest.

“I’ll be there in a half hour.” Quentin’s voice sounded different, hesitant, but that didn’t surprise her. “There’s something you need to know.”

She sucked in a breath and stared at the desk in front of her, certain he would tell her about the conversation he’d had with Lady Caroline the night before, about her discovery of faith, how nothing stood in their way now. Rebecca put two fingers to the bridge of her nose, thinking pressure might stop her tears once they were ready to flow.

“I don’t want Dana to be blindsided,” he was saying, much to her confusion.
Dana?
“I’ve just come from Heathrow to fetch Aidan. He called last night when you and Dana were out walking, and I talked with him.”

Now her gaze flew back to Dana, panicked. Dana stepped farther into the room, a frown emerging on her face.

“Did you tell him . . . ? You know, about the baby?”

Dana’s eyes were wider now, filling with the tears Rebecca thought would be in her own eyes a moment ago.

“No. Look, he’s sitting right here. He’s been worried about Dana, and I don’t blame him. I guess I should have told both of you this last night, but Aidan asked me to wait until it was too late for Dana to tell him not to come. Personally, I agreed. I told him I’d pick him up as soon as he could get a flight. It’s for the best, Rebecca.”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure you’re right.” She sucked in a breath, still looking at Dana. “I’ll tell her Aidan is on his way here with you, right now. And you’re right. It is for the best.” She hung up a moment later, facing Dana. “Now neither one of us has a way to push off what must be done.”

Dana nodded, her face solemn. “For the best, you said.” She eyed Rebecca. “Best to get it over with, for me. You’re probably right. I know it has to be done. But for you?”

“If this relationship is to be done with . . . the sooner the better, as they say.”

She’d meant to sound hard or at least assured. The wobble in the middle betrayed the tender vulnerability amassing inside her.

44

* * *

My dear Cosima,

I have nothing with which to compare the moment I realized Simon was sincere in his proposal. Should I have thought of Lord Welby, who danced with me so many times that night of the ball and then asked to speak to my father when I returned from my visit to Ireland with you? No, in retrospect I am glad Lord Welby never announced intentions to my father, as I am sure any marriage between us would have been dull with our inevitable indifference.

I am anything but indifferent to Simon. Do you know, Cosima, that although he has kissed me in a way no gentleman should, I believe him to be one? It is clear if I were back home with no future other than marriage, it would be Simon I would want without doubt.

But my life is different now. I finally let go of my dreams for marriage. Yes, it was a struggle, yet I have accustomed myself to a future as a headmistress, to being the servant God intended me to be. How can I be a true servant and return to life in London or take it up anew in Dublin, no less than the wife of an MP, along with the lifestyle that would entail?

Oh, Cosima, do you see how that would be turning my back on what God has called me to do? I could no more abandon this mission than I could stop breathing.

Through my door last night, I told Simon I must have time. He gave me no more than the evening and the night. He expects to speak to me this morning after drills.

I have no idea what I shall say to him. . . .

“It occurred to me after I left,” Simon said, watching the others return to the manor after drills, “that the turn in our discussion last evening might have been a surprise to you. I admit I entertained the notion of marriage before yesterday, but I hadn’t meant to broach the topic so soon.”

Berrie folded her hands together, then let them go. “I appreciate the fact that the first time you mentioned marriage it was because you believed you’d overstepped propriety, but—”

He shook his head, slowing their step with a touch to her arm. “That first time I mentioned marriage was the first time I’d ever said such a word aloud, at least in relation to myself. Last night was entirely different. I’ve considered the matter, and I believe our marriage would bring both of us happiness.”

“It was kind of you to share that decision with me,” she said, “though you’ve presented it as if I have no say in the matter.”

He laughed. “Your kiss made it clear you feel the same way.”

She stopped, watching the last of the children being led into the manor house, knowing she should be following. The moment seemed symbolic of the decision she must make: the school . . . or Simon?

Myriad thoughts battled in her brain, making her heart beat so erratically the blood eddied along its route. She stopped. “I cannot . . . think, Simon.”

He stepped closer. “Do you want to marry me?”

Berrie took a step back, knowing his close proximity tainted her already unsteady thought process. There was only one thing to do, and she knew it. Be honest. “I used to hope for everything you offer.” She cast him a self-conscious smile, not used to sharing such intimate thoughts. “I wanted to be married, have children, run a household, do all of the social things my parents have always done. But somehow that didn’t seem to happen for me. You’re not the first person to think I’m difficult. When I saw the need for a school such as this, I knew why. I wasn’t meant to be married; I was meant to serve these children and their families instead—children many others don’t want to be around.”

“It’s an honorable goal,” Simon said quietly.

She nodded, holding his gaze, seeing his smile dim. “It is honorable,” she said, “and one I still want to fulfill. We’ve only just begun.”

He was silent a long moment, looking at everything except her. Reaching a hand to his forearm, she willed him to look at her. At last, he did.

“I don’t believe I could be both headmistress and wife if I’m to do either one very well.”

He blinked, nodded, and stepped back, letting her hand fall to her side without his arm there to hold it up. “Yes, I can see you would think that.” He offered an ineffective smile and a quick glance. “Whatever you do, Berrie, you do with passion—wholeheartedly. Teach, argue. Kiss.”

Blood rushed to her cheeks and she could do nothing to stop it. He was right.

“I’ll be leaving for London next month,” he said quietly. “Katie is used to my long trips away. She should give you no trouble about that.”

The thought that he would be altogether absent sent a wave of unexpected panic through her, though it was undoubtedly best. Could she be his friend, truly his friend? one day hope for him to find someone else to marry, and then watch it happen?

That was one thing she would not do with any passion.

45

* * *

Padgett threw herself into her father’s arms when he stepped through the door. Aidan twirled her around and kissed her cheek, then asked about the new toy in her hand. She introduced him to her replica of Emma, the fuzzy little lamb that always needed to be rescued.

Rebecca watched, a weight in her heart at seeing the kind of family she wanted. She didn’t want to show her need for one, aware of Quentin’s eyes on her. Her eyelids went down like twin doors closing off anything from inside or out. Even with what Dana and Aidan faced, whether a healthy or an impaired child on the way, she knew Aidan was committed to the two women in his life already, Dana and Padgett, and would be to this new life too. That commitment was in his eyes, visible through the moment of awkwardness when he settled Padgett back to the floor and faced Dana for the first time in almost three weeks.

“Hey,” he said gently, “I missed you.”

Rebecca saw Dana try to smile, but the effort was lost when she pressed herself against him, eyes closed, a soft sob escaping.

“Padgett,” said Rebecca, “why don’t we let your mom and dad say hello on their own for a little while? Would you come with Quentin and me down to the farm?”

“Okay, only I want to show Daddy how I can ride a pony, and he has to meet the real Emma.” She turned to her father, who was still holding Dana and showing no sign of letting go. “Do you remember, Daddy? The
real
lamb I named that I told you about on the phone?”

He drew one hand from Dana’s back to rumple his daughter’s hair. “Yes, I remember, sweetheart. We’ll meet you at the cuddle farm in a few minutes, okay?”

Rebecca took Padgett’s hand, leading the way. Maybe Rebecca was doing what Dana had done for the past five days, putting off what must be done. Taking care of Padgett was one way of not facing whatever needed to be said between her and Quentin. A small delay, still welcome.

The sky was slightly overcast, a faint fog in the distance that muted hedgerows on the horizon. Rebecca kept her eyes on Padgett, rigidly avoiding contact with Quentin. She did little more than glance his way, catching a smile, a look of contentment.

At the cuddle farm, the lamb approached Padgett as one friend greeting another. Rebecca watched from the gate, aware when Quentin came up beside her, wanting to resist when he slipped an arm about her waist but welcoming it instead.