“Does she know that?”
“I…” James stared at the carriage as it rolled along. He’d begged her to tell him what she was hiding, but he’d never said he wouldn’t use the information against her. He’d just assumed she’d know he wouldn’t.
“Look,” Michael said, “you’ve made a name for yourself because of your strict adherence to the law. Men respect you for this. I admire you for it. But it also poses the greatest threat to the life you could have with Mrs. Lawson, because it’s going to require you to keep a very open mind.”
“And yet,” James said, “based on everything you’ve learned, you believe her to be the finest person there is.”
“Without a doubt.” Michael seemed to reflect on what to say next. “She’s incredibly brave, Papa, loyal to a fault, and more selfless than any other person I’ve ever met. Indeed, if I were in your position and felt what you clearly feel toward her, I would risk everything to be with her. Because she deserves to be happy more than you could ever imagine.”
James considered this as they plodded toward the edge of the village. The leather from his saddle squeaked as his thighs pressed against it. He glanced at Michael. “Why didn’t things work out between you and Cynthia?”
A shadow fell across Michael’s brow. He shrugged one shoulder as if intending to show indifference, but failed. His turbulent thoughts were written all over his face. “She confided something in me last night.”
“Besides the facts regarding her mother?”
Michael nodded. “I want to have children one day and as it turns out, Cynthia can’t.”
Aware of the difficult blow this must be to his son, James could think of nothing to say besides, “I’m sorry.”
Michael slanted a disbelieving look in his direction. “You wanted me to break things off with her.”
“For good reason, Michael. But that doesn’t mean I relished coming between you and the woman you love or that I’m glad to know she can’t have children.”
“We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for your disapproval.” He expelled a heavy sigh. “I love her, and as such, there’s a good chance I’ll still choose to go against your wishes and marry her. But this new information requires a great deal of contemplation. Going through with a hasty marriage would have been rash in light of it.”
Michael’s words stayed with James as they left the village and pushed their horses into a gallop. His son had been willing to ignore social mores and risk being ostracized in order to be with the woman he wanted. He still might. Initially, James had believed him to be naïve, foolish, juvenile. But what if he was wrong? What if there was wisdom to be found in Michael’s view of what was important?
Michael had loved his mother, but he’d not been ignorant of her flaws. He’d experienced first-hand the destructive effect a marriage could have if it were entered into for the wrong reasons. Perhaps then finding true love, no matter the hardship it promised, mattered more to him than making a respectable match for the sake of necessity, of risking a permanent union with the wrong woman. And his decision to give the new situation he found himself in some careful consideration before rushing into marriage conveyed an element of maturity James hadn’t credited him with.
By the time they arrived at the same posting inn where they’d first met Cloverfield, it was late afternoon. James leapt from his saddle, stirring up a plume of dirt from the ground, tossed his horse’s reins to a groom, and strode toward the carriage in which Wilhelmina and Cynthia sat. His heart pounded as he opened the door and peered inside, more so when he locked eyes with the woman who made him question some of his most firmly held beliefs. Never in his life had he second-guessed himself more than he’d done after making her acquaintance. All because he lacked the information he needed in order to judge her fairly.
Obviously, the only way for him to make any headway at all and figure out whether she might be worth every risk he feared to his own reputation was for him to uncover her secrets. With this in mind, he moved to one side and offered his hand. Cynthia stepped down first, thanked him for the assistance, and went to speak with Michael.
With his stomach coiled in a tight knot, James held his breath and waited for Wilhelmina to appear. Her gloved hand settled over his so carefully it seemed she feared he might scorch her. The half boots she wore peeked out from beneath the hem of her lilac gown when she placed her foot on the step, allowing a flash of delectable stocking-clad ankle to burn its way into his brain. A lovely shade of pink stole up her neck and into her cheeks as her fingers curled more securely around his hand.
James’s heart beat so fast it began tripping over.
Too affected to speak, he guided her onto the ground. She raised her gaze to his in a shy sort of way that reminded him of a young girl fresh out of the school room. A warm sensation spread through his chest on that thought, for it wasn’t entirely misplaced. Whatever it was she was hiding, Mina might as well be a debutante waiting to make her debut. She was almost that innocent.
“Thank you, Mr. Dale.”
He dipped his head. “What happened to James?”
She bit her lip and looked askance, perhaps attempting to locate her daughter. “We probably ought to return to propriety and—”
“We’re friends, you and I. There’s nothing improper about you calling me James. Will you still allow me to call you Mina?” God, he hoped so.
A rapid pulse beat at the side of her neck. She seemed to consider, then gave a swift nod. “Yes.”
A smile caught his lips. Lord, how he wanted to kiss her. Later, perhaps? He bent his arm at the elbow and offered it to her. “Let’s go inside and see to our rooms. Once we’ve gotten settled, we can go for a stroll.”
Wariness settled deep in her eyes, but she didn’t protest his idea, for which he was grateful. Half an hour later, he knocked on the door to the room Wilhelmina and Cynthia shared. The object of his desire answered.
“Ready?” he asked.
She glanced at her daughter who sat on the bed with something in her lap. “Cynthia?”
“You go ahead,” Cynthia said. “I want to finish my mending.”
“We can wait for you,” Wilhelmina said.
“No need. I’ll take a walk with Michael if I feel like a bit of fresh air once I’m done.”
Wilhelmina’s eyes widened enough to convey her uncertainty with this plan. “Alone?”
Cynthia glanced up then and stared at her mother. “I’m a widow, Mama. I don’t need a chaperone.”
“I…um…of course you don’t. I just…” She gave James a hesitant look.
Cynthia sighed. “Go, Mama. Stretch your legs with Mr. Dale. I’ll see you when you return.”
“All right.” Wilhelmina frowned. “I’ll just fetch my shawl.”
The door closed in James’s face. When it opened once more, Wilhelmina looked far more composed than she had a few moments earlier. It was almost as if she’d put on her armor. He glanced at the shawl – a lovely deep purple one with an intricate lilac pattern running through it, to complement her gown. “Is that the one you wove?”
She turned to him in surprise, as if she’d expected him to forget this hobby of hers. “Yes.”