“So he stayed silent?” Wilhelmina was grateful. If anyone ought to divulge the truth it was she.
“Look,” Mr. Dale said, his manner grave. “I don’t know what happened between you and James during your journey, but I can tell you he came back a changed man. For three whole days he did nothing but help my tenants make various repairs. Whenever we saw him, he hardly spoke one word – kept himself hidden away in his bedchamber for the most part. And then he left.”
“I’ve only seen him like that once before,” Mrs. Dale said. She was studying Wilhelmina with an unnerving degree of shrewdness. “When he realized his wife didn’t love him.”
Wilhelmina sucked in a breath. “What are you saying?”
Mr. and Mrs. Dale shared a look and then Mr. Dale said, “Michael may not have revealed your secrets, but he told us enough to make one thing clear. James fell in love with you, Mrs. Lawson, and you did not return the sentiment.”
“What?” Wilhelmina stared at the older couple while trying to make sense of what they’d just told her. A forceful surge of joy grabbed her heart and quickened its beats. “He gave no indication.”
“Didn’t he?” Mrs. Dale asked, her voice soft and gentle.
Wilhelmina shook her head, but she knew she was being dishonest. James’s response to what she’d said had certainly revealed deep emotion on his part. He’d been angry with her, but it never occurred to her until this moment that she might have hurt him. She’d been so caught up in her own heartache, she’d not thought of his. Because she’d believed he wouldn’t want her, no matter what. But what if he’d changed? What if he’d been willing to toss everything he believed in aside for her? He’d given her a loom for heaven’s sake. Surely that was a declaration of deep devotion if ever there was one.
“I’m such a fool,” she muttered. “But I was scared of how he’d react to the things I would say. I feared he would think less of me once he realized what had happened and the choices I made in the years since. I’ve ruined lives and all I wanted was to try and fix it.”
“Then you should tell him that,” Mr. Dale said. “Otherwise you’re just denying him the ability to make an informed decision and to choose his own path.”
“You’re right. Of course you are.” Wilhelmina took another few sips of her tea. “But it’s a bit late now that he’s gone to London.”
“You could follow him,” Mrs. Dale suggested with a twinkle in her eyes.
Mr. Dale smirked as he glanced at his wife. “Ever the romantic, my dear.”
“I wish I could,” Wilhelmina said, “but with the Season in progress and my daughter attempting to make a new match for herself, I’d like to keep my distance lest I ruin her chances with my reputation. Which leads me to wonder why you would want a woman like me to pursue an attachment with your son. Surely you’d wish to avoid a scandal.”
“Naturally,” Mr. Dale said. “But if a bit of scandal is the price we must pay for our son’s happiness, then so be it. He deserves to love and to be loved in return. We’ll weather whatever storm comes our way.”
“Besides, we don’t really go out into Society much these days, so I hardly think it will have an effect on us,” Mrs. Dale said.
“It could have dire consequences on your son and grandson,” Wilhelmina warned.
“Perhaps,” Mr. Dale agreed, “but Michael was willing to take that chance for your daughter. Correct? And I believe James will do so for you if you return his affection.”
Wilhelmina shook her head. “He loves his work. I’d never forgive myself if he had to sacrifice that for me.”
“I thought we already established that he must be given the choice,” Mr. Dale said. “Having you or anyone else determine what’s best for him would be wrong.”
“True,” Wilhelmina agreed. And wasn’t that why she’d come here in the first place? Besides thanking James for his generous gift in person, she’d hoped for a chance to dispel this idea of her being in love with George. A point which only mattered because she was in love with James and couldn’t stand having him think she was lost to him. Because she wanted more – hoped for more – even though she knew obtaining it would be hard.
But so what?
She’d fought to save her reputation, fought to save her daughter’s, and fought to ensure George’s happiness. Should she not then fight for the man she loved instead of just giving up?
“I can’t go to London right now. The chance of ruining Cynthia’s prospects is too great. I shan’t risk it. But once the Season is over in a month or so, I’ll make the journey.” Hopefully by then she’d also have gotten her business started. As long as Betsy and the Wilkinses pitched in, she ought to be able to manage a few days’ absence.
“At least write to him then,” Mrs. Dale urged.
Wilhelmina nodded. “I will.”
She thanked the couple for their hospitality and started her homeward journey. They’d offered her the use of their carriage but Wilhelmina preferred to walk. Being out in the open provided her thoughts with the extra room they required, and by the time she returned home, she’d figured out what she would say in her letter.
For now, she would thank Mr. Dale for the loom, tell him she missed seeing him at Clarington House when she stopped by for a visit, and convey her hope of meeting him soon. As for the rest, she’d rather say it in person.
Satisfied, she penned the letter and dispatched it the following morning. While in town, she purchased all the ingredients she would need to start baking and even took out an advert in the local paper so Renwick’s inhabitants would know where to get milk, fresh eggs, and bread for less than what the local shops offered.
“I’m thinking I’ll make five plain loaves for tomorrow,” Wilhelmina told Betsy when she returned, “some buns and biscuits, along with a couple of cakes. We’ll have to adjust once we know how well it sells.”
“It might be a bit of a struggle the first few days,” Betsy said, “but once a couple of people try your goods and they tell their friends how fantastic they are, I wager you’ll have customers banging down the door.”
As it turned out, seven people showed up the next day. One only wanted eggs and milk, but Wilhelmina still sold all her bread along with every biscuit and cake she’d made. So she baked twice as much for the day after that and was pleased when even more people stopped by.
A busy week followed, during which Wilhelmina barely slept one wink, and then the response from James arrived.
Dear Mrs. Lawson,
Not Wilhelmina or Mina, Wilhelmina noted.
It pleases me to know you are well and that the loom will be useful to you.
I hope you can forgive me for not saying goodbye. To be honest, it was easier not to.
With respect,
Mr. James Dale
Wilhelmina reread the note a dozen times, searching for a hidden endearment that didn’t exist. Although he had acknowledged finding it hard to part ways. If his parents were correct in their assumptions, this was due to his feelings for her. Feelings he did not believe she reciprocated.
Nothing could be further from the truth, but telling him that would have to wait a while yet. Folding the letter, she placed it in her apron pocket and went to start on a fresh batch of biscuits. As pleased as she was by her success, there was a definite snag to it, for she’d no idea now when she’d manage to go to London and speak with James. First, she needed to find a routine that worked – one which Betsy would be able to follow during her absence.