“Why does it surprise you that a man could admire you?”
“Because I am not a lovable person. My husband never loved me. My own father had no use for me.”
“You are very deserving of love.” He pressed his lips against my temple. “And you have mine.” My skin burned with sensation at the feel of his mouth against my flesh. “Promise me that you will at least consider my offer. Think of the advantages of choosing me over Mr. Wilson. I am considerably younger… and more vigorous.”
The following morning I awoke full of hope. I’d pledged never to remarry, but Michael made me reconsider. I could not help wondering what it would be like to be the wife of such a man, who was decent and generous. A man who made my blood swirl.
I even hummed as I made myself a cup of tea and wondered what Lizzy would say. I would take satisfaction in telling her that a man of quality, a young, handsome man of virtue, wanted to makeme his wife. I could imagine her surprise that a man like Mr. Wilson, who was old enough to be my father, was not my only option. But was I really considering remarrying?
I was.
And the thought of it made excitement course through my veins. I prepared a quick breakfast of tea and toast before going to check on the garden. I reached down to pull an errant weed when a supercilious male voice sounded behind me.
“Mrs. Wickham, I presume?”
“I am she.” Facing the well-dressed man, I wondered who he could be. He was in his forties, with a flushed round face. How had I gone from receiving no visitors, outside of family, to this constant stream of people appearing on my doorstep?
“I am Squire Worsley.”
I immediately recognized the name. This man was Michael’s benefactor. Worsley was the village magistrate and largest local landowner. He’d given Michael the church living in Castleberry. “How do you do?”
“Not very well, I am afraid. Do you have a moment to speak?”
I could not imagine what business a man of the squire’s influence could have with me. “Of course. Would you care to come in?”
He made a moue of distaste. He possessed full, wet lips. “I suppose it is necessary because I do require a word with you.”
I took an immediate dislike to the man and his high-handed manner, but he was Michael’s employer, so I forced myself to behave in a courteous manner. I led him to my tiny parlor. “May I offer you some tea?”
He pursed his lips. “No, thank you. This is not a social call.”
“What kind of call is it?”
“One in which I attempt to talk sense into you.”
“Into me?” I asked, confused.
“You are aware that Michael Haddad serves as the vicar of Castleberry at my pleasure.”
“I don’t see what that has to do with me.”
“It has come to my attention that he hopes to make you his wife.”
“It has?” Despite my surprise, I forced myself to maintain a neutral expression. “Where did you hear that?”
“Do you deny that he has made you an offer?”
“I will neither confirm nor deny it.”
His eyes flashed. “You are impertinent.”
“I cannot imagine where you would have heard such a thing.” I could not fathom Michael telling anyone, especially considering that I had yet to accept his offer.
“The vicar informed me that he hopes to marry soon. Although he did not name the… erm… female he has in mind, it has been noted by many that the vicar has recently made several visits to your home.”
I shouldn’t be surprised that the townspeople had noticed Michael working in the garden with me. I barely contained my temper. “If you are suggesting that anything untoward has occurred—”
“I am not. I know the vicar to be a virtuous man, and it is my expectation that he will remain so.”
