It was humiliating to even explain it to her, but she deserved the truth. Having this out on a busy street corner wasn’t ideal, but he didn’t want to go back to the dorm, where Liam might overhear.
“I shouldn’t have let you buy me that suit,” he said. “I’m heading over to cancel the order.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “I’ve already paid for it.”
“Then I need to pay you back. A man has to have some pride, Gwen. I don’t like taking money from you any more than Jasper did.”
She flinched and stepped back a little. “I hardly think you’re an expert on Jasper.”
“I know you bought him that scientific journal and he resented the way it made him look to the rest of the world.”
He walked over to the bench on the edge of the sidewalk, bracing his hands against the back of it. She didn’t understand. Someone like her probably never could, but he had to try. His anger drained away, and he spoke without heat.
“My dad died before I can remember, so we were always poor,” he said. “When we lived in Ireland, all my clothes came out of the charity bin. I hated going to school, because other kids knew I was wearing their castoffs. The taunting got so bad that I’d walk a couple of miles to a neighboring village and rummage through their poor bin, because there might be a shirt or a pair of shoes with a little more life, and then the kids at school wouldn’t know where they came from. That isn’t something a man forgets. I won’t ever be reduced to begging again.”
Gwen looked stricken. “But I think only the best of you! Your generosity, your bravery. Patrick, I love you.”
He looked away, unable to say the words in return. As much as he cared for her, they were going too fast. He’d underestimated the chasm dividing their worlds. Everything had been easy when they were alone on a fire escape, but in the real world, there were daily reminders of how far beneath her he was.
“I think the world of you, Gwen,” he stammered, hating to see the hope fade from her face. She was trying so hard to be brave, but the hurt was impossible to miss.
“What’s changed?” she asked. “I’m the same person I’ve always been.”
“Your family won’t accept a man like me.”
She shook her head. “They’re good people. Some are a little snobby, but that’s true in any family, isn’t it? Don’t let my bad experience with Jasper mean we can’t have a future. Please don’t abandon me. I need you. Liam needs you.”
“I’m not going to bail out, Gwen. I’ll go to the island and help Liam as best I can.” But he didn’t know if he had a future with her after that, and it hurt.
He grabbed her shoulders and kissed her on the mouth, long and deep. She was everything that was good and pure and optimistic. His kiss was full of desperation, but he forced himself to withdraw.
“I adore you, but I don’t know if we can weather the storm ahead of us.”
“Whatever happens, we’ll face it together, Patrick.” She reached up to embrace him, and he returned it, holding her tightly and wishing he could believe her. Over her shoulder, he saw a Help Wanted sign in the millinery shop window, carrying the familiar phrase No Irish Need Apply.
Gwen was an open-minded woman, but he doubted her family would be any more eager to accept an Irishman than the shopkeeper who put that horrible sign in the window, and he feared the storm ahead was going to be bad.
26
Patrick tried to go on as before, but everything got more difficult after the afternoon in front of the millinery shop. He canceled the order for the new suit, but it didn’t help the awkwardness he felt with Gwen. His inability to return her declaration of love hung like a black cloud shadowing every conversation.
Gwen pretended the awkwardness didn’t exist, forcing a smile on her face each time he entered a room. He tried to meet her halfway, listening politely as she rambled about her wonderful family, but it was in Gwen’s nature to see the best in everyone.
Today she sat beside Liam in the common room with the album of photographs open on the table before them. She pointed to a picture of an old man standing in the surf, casting a line into the water. “That’s Uncle Milton,” she said. “He’s an avid fisherman. You should see the collection of rods and nets he brings to every family gathering. If there’s any sort of seafood you like, just tell Milton, and he’ll catch it for you.”
She turned to look at Liam. “We should go over seafood forks before we get to the island, because we celebrate with an annual lobster bake on our grandfather’s birthday. It’s always been my favorite day of the entire summer. We dig a trench, fill it with seaweed, then add lobsters and mussels and clams. The entire family joins in, and it’s tremendous fun. You’ll love it.”
Liam’s grunt was skeptical, and Gwen noticed.
“Liam, the Blackstones are good people. I guarantee that our great-aunt Martha is the kindest woman you will ever meet. During the Civil War she volunteered in hospitals for imprisoned Confederate soldiers because few people wanted to tend to them. She did it until she caught cholera, then went straight back on duty once she recovered.”
Although she spoke to Liam, Patrick sensed the praise she heaped on Great-Aunt Martha was intended for him.
Liam seemed doubtful too. “And what will our great-aunt Martha think of a man who has callouses on his hands and can barely read?”
Gwen didn’t hesitate. “She will mourn what happened to Theodore’s son and welcome him home with open arms.” She twisted so she could look at Patrick, her face nearly bursting with hope. “You too,” she said. “Aunt Martha knows about my struggles with Jasper and will be thrilled that I’ve found such a strong, decent man. You will both be welcome.”
“I hope you’re right, Mrs. K,” he said. He wanted to believe her but couldn’t disguise the suspicion in his tone.
