The answer, I know not, but I am forever grateful that she was willing to give her heart to a wayward soul such as me. My passions and success would not be half so strong without her. May you one day experience the same with a partner of your choosing.
Yours,
JN
Isworeundermybreath when another patron approached the housekeeper at the White Rabbit, once again preventing me from having a private word with the woman. I had been watching Mrs. Galvin for days now, and she seemed a kind woman who also had an ear for gossip. I could not say with certainty she could be trusted, but I was running out of patience.
Hollinsby, even now, could be hurting Adda. I could not sit back and wait, not when I was so close to ensuring her safety and well-being. If Mrs. Galvin did not have information, then I needed to move on to someone who might. At this point, taking a risk was my only option.
I’d spent the last few days observing those in Chatham, the village east of Kenwick Castle. Many of the locals were genuinely polite, but I had held back from striking up a conversation with any of them that so much as hinted at Hollinsby. Lord Paxton had warned me to be careful for good reason. One wrong move could upset all the progress I had made since arriving in Kent.
The patron leaned against the wall, a casual grin pulling at his lips as he spoke to the housekeeper.
I folded my arms and tapped my boot against the floor. What was taking so long? Was the man flirting in an effort to negotiate his room rate? Ordering a banquet? I wanted to walk up to him and demand haste, but surely that would only result in an argument. An argument would take more time. Blast it all, if only I had some way to hurry things along without inciting his ire. I could not exactly charm the man into wrapping up his business.
Annette could.
The thought struck me so heavily that my stomach twisted. I had done my best to avoid all thoughts of Miss Apsley since waking this morning…to no avail. I could not seem to get her words out of my mind.
A brilliant team—that is what she had claimed we could be. From the moment Lord Paxton suggested I marry his daughter, I had instructed myself to bury ideas of treating marriage to Annette as anything more than a convenience for us both. I would not demand things of her but would take care of her to my best abilities, and in return, the extra funds from her father would support my goals for change. Nothing in that equation supported attraction or love, two distractions I swore to avoid. It did not support us becoming ateam.
Yet, the idea did not fill me with displeasure. Annette had offered me a different path to achieving my goals. She promised financial aid with funds she would obtain once her father held up his end of their agreement. She had not married, and Lord Paxton was a man of his word. I could cease my pursuit of her and simply wait for him to acknowledge his promise. With her support, I could garner the attention and support of others, too. Without marriage. Without anything to distract me.
I swallowed. Annette had given me a way out, and rather than experiencing relief, I despaired at the idea of giving up. Of letting her go. True, she would remain in my life, but it would be at her discretion. At a distance. Confiding in her yesterday had felt so natural. The burden of the challenge that lay before had never felt so light. Having someone to share my thoughts and goals with, someone who understood and fully supported my decisions, was…
Well, it was no small thing.
Lord Paxton had served as my confidante for some months now, but the connection forged between Annette and myself was different. So utterly and distractingly different. Our relationship was turbulent at times. She pushed me and challenged me in ways her father did not, to say nothing of how I yearned for her company. How I yearned for…more.
And in these realizations, I learned the truth. I did not want to marry Annette simply for the money Lord Paxton offered me. I wanted to marry Annette because I wantedher.
Her smile.
Her laugh.
Her kiss.
Herheart.
I shoved my thoughts aside. Laughter floated softly through the air as the housekeeper chatted with the man, who seemed so at ease that I assumed he frequented the inn. My jaw clenched, and I exhaled slowly, willing my frustration to dissipate.
If Annette were here, she wouldn’t be patient either. She would have already concocted some plan to pull the man away, charm him into conversation so I could speak with the housekeeper. A team effort.
I bit the inside of my cheek. Annette had confessed to admiring my stance on abolition. Those words had lit a fire in me, one that even now refused to be extinguished. It was one thing for me to silently admire Annette—her beauty, her intelligence, her spirit—but to hear her admit to admiring me in return? The woman would undo me. Shehadnearly undid me. We could not be a team, not if being so meant I would unravel and become brainsick. It opposed everything I sought to achieve. It would get in the way of progress, in the way of justice and saving Adda.
Would it not?
I drummed my fingers against my arm. If Annette and I worked together after we wed, would that not mean a higher chance of success? She was stubborn and charming—enough so that she could likely persuade men to join our cause with her wit alone. Would that not help more than hinder? Even if I allowed myself to think of her as a partner, that did not mean our marriage must change from convenient to something more. I could train my thoughts to see her as a teammate, could I not?
I nearly scoffed. Given I had succumbed to the desire to kiss her the first time we worked together—a time when we were not even friends—I doubted my strength to resist when such a thing was possible as her husband.
My mind wandered to the letters from John currently scattered over the writing desk in my room at Kenwick. I had stayed up long into the night reading through our correspondence, as I often found myself doing. I took solace in the quiet support from the man whom I had only met once but knew so well. His mentorship—as I could not think of a better word for it—had guided me in my decision to join The Squadron. His words had kept me afloat when all felt hopeless, when I feared I would never make a difference, despite my firm convictions. In his letters, he had often mentioned his wife and even the children the two of them had adopted.
John Newton had a family, one he loved dearly.
And more importantly, he had viewed his wife as his partner—a woman who not only encouraged his fight for abolition but also stood at his side through every challenge.
Why had I never realized what an influence she was? Why had I never put stock in John’s encouragement that I find the same sort of relationship? For so long, I had focused on my dedication. I had convinced myself that pursuing courtship and marriage would detract from what I believed was my life’s calling. John had clearly offered his thoughts on the matter, and I had blindly ignored them. My narrow view had prevented me from seeing the potential benefits a wife like Mary could bring to my future.
