Page 58 of The Gentlewoman Author

“Sit down, sit down.” She waved them toward the table and began bustling around the hearth. Daniel pulled out half a fruit cake from his satchel while the old woman made tea.

“This boy was full of light and mischief in equal measure. No one could be angry at him when he scattered the sheep or trampled fresh-planted barley because his countenance was always as bright as the sun.” She went on to embarrass him with stories of his youth.

Mary leaned forward, absorbing each word. Was this out of politeness to Mrs. Spencer or honest interest? Mary broke into laughter, folding in half, then slapping Daniels thigh. Entirely absorbed in watching his companion, he had not caught the joke. Her nose crinkled, and she placed her hand over her stomach and leaned back, unafraid of hearty laughter. Tittering was not for Mary. At least, not in this moment. He could watch this all day.

On their journey back to Almery, Mary said, “There is an easy solution to your problem, Daniel.”

His breath caught. The only problem he could think of was his bachelor state. “Which problem is that?”

“Mother Spencer’s cottage is too large for her. She struggles to keep up with it. So, move her into the smaller house and give the larger one to the young couple.”

“Why should you think Mother Spencer cannot care for her space?”

“She keeps only one window clean, and it was sparkling. The upper shelves were dusty and empty. Her pots and pans, though tidy, were piled in one corner rather than hung on nails. The hearth is too large for her needs.”

“So long as she is amenable to the change.”

“Yes, you would not want to disrupt her if she does not wish it, but tenants often do not ask for what is best for them. We must notice for them.”

“You are very wise.”

“It comes with age.”

He grinned at her, and when she smiled in return, his back straightened, and he imagined leaning over and thanking her with a kiss. Perhaps a kiss would persuade her to become his wife.

That evening, Daniel and Mary sat with his mother. Conversation stalled and started with Daniel regretting that he subjected Mary to all the impertinence of his mother, who persisted in questioning Mary on everything from her favorite color to the intimate details of her first marriage. Daniel tried to persuade her to retire for the evening, but she declined.

“Mary, what made you decide to remarry? I could never do such a thing myself, having been so happy with Robert.” Mary stiffened, Daniel cringed, but his mother went on as if they were speaking of the weather. “It appears you are financially secure. Is it loneliness?”

After blinking several times, Mary coughed a little. “Like you, my marriage brought me such felicity that I never imagined wishing for a second marriage. I live close to my sister and my brother and spend time with my nieces and nephews.” It seemed Mary would not answer the question.

Daniel’s mother leaned toward Mary. “Why marry? Please, I am curious.”

Mary took a deep breath. “I am astonished at your question. As the mother of such a man, you are well-acquainted with his charms.”

“Daniel convinced you, then?” His mother sat back, her eyelids lowered in an air of indifference, but Daniel knew better. She was suspicious, dissatisfied with the praises she pried out of them earlier. Perhaps they needed to work harder to prove they were indeed in love. His mother made it no secret that she believed Mary was too old. Perhaps she searched for a reason to oppose the match.

“How could any woman resist?” Mary smiled and patted Daniel on the arm as she might an obedient dog. His mother took in the gesture. It would not do. They must show her. But how?

“Did you know our Daniel used to play the pianoforte so charmingly? And sing, too.”

Daniel groaned.

“Yes,” Mary said. “I have heard him sing and play.”

His mother’s eyes flew open. “That is something.” For the first time that evening, her smile was sincere. Turning to her son, she said, “You have not played since…well, for a very long time.”

Daniel knew exactly the moment he’d stopped playing, and so did his mother. It was right after he discovered the amount of money his father had lost in his investments. From that time on, he’d dedicated himself to stabilizing the family fortunes.

“Play for us now, dear,” his mother urged.

Daniel obliged, if only to remove himself from the conversation.

“I shall turn the pages for you.” Mary stood and walked with Daniel to the pianoforte.

“What is happening?” Mary whispered. “She seems to doubt us.”

“We must try harder.” He took her arm in his and held her as close to him as he dared for the remaining steps to the instrument.