“My goodness,” he said with a half grin. “I am only leaving for a week. I shall see you again.”
She blushed and ducked her head. “Of course.”
Chagrined to have embarrassed her again, he squeezed her hand. “But I thank you. Your well wishes mean a great deal, especially considering our rough beginning.”
She gave him a regretful little grin and then lowered her eyes once more.
Unable to resist, he lifted her hand to his lips. He pressed a kiss there, lingering a second too long for propriety but not caring. What did a woman like her care about propriety anyway? Or was that only with a certain other gentleman?
“Good-bye, Mr. Lowden,” she said.
His gaze locked on hers, then she slipped her hand from his.
“We shall just say ‘until we meet again,’ all right?”
She formed an unconvincing smile.
Why did he feel that she was saying good-bye for good?
Chapter14
The next day, Hannah read another chapter to Sir John. She glanced over at him, lying flat, staring at the ceiling, eyes open. Being a tall man, his heels extended past the end of the bed. He seemed to be listening, but it was difficult to gauge his reaction or how much he understood.
Did he even remember giving her this book for Christmas two years ago?The History of Sir Charles Grandisonwas the only gift she’d received, save a length of ribbon from Freddie. It was not unusual for an employer to give a few coins or a token gift on Boxing Day, but one so personal and considerate? Unusual indeed.
When she’d unwrapped it, he’d explained, “I know you enjoy novels. I don’t read many, but this is a favorite. The main character is a good, honorable man one actually admires.”
Like you, she remembered thinking at the time. But she was a clergyman’s daughter, and knew better than to covet another woman’s husband, so she had endeavored to stifle her admiration for the man. And for the most part, she had succeeded. It helped that he gave her no encouragement.
Remembering those feelings now made her feel almost disloyalto Marianna’s memory. Regardless, she still thought him a good, admirable man. Even now. After everything.
A quick knock sounded and Mrs. Turrill came into the room, Danny in her arms. Hannah laid aside her book and quickly rose to intercept her son, but the housekeeper was already approaching the bed, angling Danny toward Sir John.
“Look who I have here.”
Sir John slowly turned his head toward them.
“Now, you know who this fine handsome lad is, don’t you?”
Sir John stared, slack-mouthed. His head moved left, right, in the slowest of shakes.
“Why, this is Master Daniel. And if you don’t recognize him, I shouldn’t wonder, growing so fast as he is.” She looked from Sir John to the child and back again. “Is there not a marked resemblance, I ask you?”
Hannah held her breath.
Again, Sir John’s head turned side to side.
“He looks like his mother, of course, but also like his father,” Mrs. Turrill persisted. “Don’t you see it?”
Here it comes....Hannah thought, fidgeting nervously.
Sir John’s gaze shifted to her. He rasped out his first word since the accident. “No.”
Her heart pounded. What had she expected?
She felt Mrs. Turrill’s uncertain gaze on her profile. The woman obviously sensed something amiss. Hannah wondered if she guessed what it was. If only she could brush it off with a smile and say easily, “Sir John has always insisted Danny takes after my side.” But she couldn’t do it. The lies she had told had begun to rot and stink and sicken, and she could not bring herself to utter another to this dear woman.
Hannah stepped near the bed and held out her hands to take Danny, but the housekeeper kept hold of him, her smile unnaturally bright. “How good to hear your voice, Sir John.”
