He beamed at her. “How good to see you again.”
“You too, Freddie.” Thankfully, Fred seemed to have forgotten they’d parted on bad terms when he came to Clifton. He always had been a forgiving sort.
He stooped down, hands on knees, to regard the child in her arms. “Is this little Daniel? My goodness, he’s grown.”
Hannah turned and gestured. “And this is Becky Brown, his nurse. And ... my friend. Becky, this is my dear old friend Fred Bonner.”
Fred tipped his cap. “How do you do?”
Becky bobbed a shy curtsy. “Sir.”
He found a chair for Becky and Danny several feet away and then returned to Hannah’s side, dark eyes penetrating deep. “How are you, Han—it is Hannah now, I hope?”
“Yes.” She hesitated. How was she? It was a complicated question, considering Marianna was back in Sir John’s life, while Mr. Lowden was apparently out of hers. But the lengthy truth could wait for another day.
Instead, she smiled and said, “I am well. And how are you? Your cart looks dashing. New paint?” She walked over to it, away from his too-direct gaze.
He gathered the reins and set the hand brake. “It is, yes.”
“And how goes your route? Business good?”
“Very well. Or, well enough. Han—”
“Oh. I wasn’t hinting or anything like that,” Hannah hurried to say. “Truly. I just wondered ... hoped it was going well for you.”
His hound-dog eyes turned downward. “Hannah. I know better than to hope, though the offer still stands. So tell me, what is it you want? Why did you come to see me?”
“Dear Freddie.” She swallowed. “I wanted to let you know I was back. And to ask about my father. How he fares ...” To herself she added,What he knows.
“He seems all right. Sad of course, but he’s in good health,if that’s what you mean. He told me Mayfield’s solicitor came to see him as he did me.”
“May I ask what you told my father?”
Fred shrugged. “I’ve told him nothing since I saw you in Devonshire. You asked me to let it lie.”
“I know I did. Though now I think it’s time I faced the truth. Confessed everything. But I’m scared.”
“As well you should be.”
“Freddie!”
“I’m sorry, Han. But it’s true. It’s a deep pit you’ve dug for yourself.”
She bit her lip and asked tentatively, “I don’t suppose you’d help me out of it?”
“You don’t want my help.”
“I just meant, ease the way for me. Let him know that the newspaper had it wrong, and I’m still alive. And ... have a child. And I am here in Bristol if he wants to see me. I’m staying in Mrs. Hurst’s lodging house, in Little King Street.”
“I don’t know, Han.”
She recalled Mrs. Turrill’s words,“But nothing is too big for God. No pit we dig for ourselves too deep. He is already reachin’ a hand down to you, ready to pull you up....”
Silently, Hannah prayed, God, will you help me?
She looked at Fred and suddenly straightened with resolve. “You know what—you’re right. I will go and see him myself.”
His brows rose. “Now?”
