“He came twice.” Mrs. Potts nodded vigorously, her bonnet ribbons bouncing with the movement. “Once around two o’clock, then again near four. Seemed quite determined to see you.”
Nell finished wrapping the loaf and handed it across the counter, her movements stiff and mechanical. “I didn’t know.”
“Well, now you do.” Mrs. Potts tucked the bread into her basket and patted Nell’s hand with a fleeting touch. “Lovely man, that doctor. Very respectable. And handsome, too, in that steady sort of way.”
She bustled out, the bell chiming behind her. Nell stared at the closed door with a hollow feeling in her chest—and Edmund had come to see her. Twice. While she’d been at Bramwell Park, letting another man put his hands on her body.
Fifteen
Noon brought the lunch lull, the shop emptying as the village retreated to their own kitchens for their midday meals. The bell chimed, and Nell looked up from the counter she’d been wiping to find Dr. Hartley standing in the doorway. He held his hat in his hands, his warm smile already forming as he caught her eye.
“Nell.” He stepped inside, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that spoke of genuine kindness. “I hope I am not intruding.”
Nell set down her cloth and smoothed the front of her apron, suddenly conscious of the flour on her sleeves and the wisps of hair escaping her pins. “Not at all. I heard you came by yesterday.”
“Yes, I did.” He admitted the fact with a slightly sheepish duck of his head, his fingers turning the stiff brim of his hat. “Mrs. Potts told me you were at Bramwell Park.”
Nell clasped her hands in front of her, her fingers interlacing tightly as she searched for a neutral expression. “Tea with Lady Philippa.”
“So I gathered.” He moved closer to the counter, his expression gentle as he searched her face. “I hope it was pleasant.”
Pleasant.One word for it. Nell’s cheeks heated at the memory of the library, and she dropped her gaze to the scarred wood of the counter. “It surely was eventful, Dr. Hartley.”
“Edmund.” He corrected her softly, setting his hat aside and leaning forward to catch her gaze. “Please. I thought we’d established that.”
Nell’s fingers twisted in the fold of her skirt, the wool bunching beneath her touch. “Edmund.”
He studied her face for a long moment, his brown stare steady while his hands rested flat on the counter. “Nell. May I speak plainly?”
Her heart stuttered, knowing the gravity of what was coming, and she gripped the edge of the counter for support. “Of course.”
“I have enjoyed our friendship.” He leaned toward her, the space between them narrowing until she could see the golden flecks in his eyes. “Very much. More than I can say. But I find myself wanting… more.”
She’d known this was coming. She’d seen it building in the warmth of his gaze and the frequency of his visits. She’d felt it in the way he found excuses to touch her hand or brush her shoulder. She’d known, and she’d done nothing to discourage it, because Edmund was safe and kind and everything a sensible woman should want.
“I know I am not a young man.” He pressed on, his posture straight even as a slight tremor took his fingers. “Thirty-nine next spring, with grey in my hair and lines on my face.”
Nell gripped the edge of the counter, her knuckles turning white against the dark wood.
“You know about Jasmine.” A shadow crossed his face, his fingers curling against the grain of the wood as if bracing againstan old wound. “I told you about her. How she left a month before we were to marry.”
“I remember.” The words were a ragged friction in Nell’s throat, her chest aching with a sudden, sharp sympathy.
“I tell you this because I want you to know.” He reached across the counter and covered her hand with his own. His palm was warm and steady, his touch entirely undemanding. “I have been where you are. Alone. Rebuilding. Afraid to trust again after someone destroyed your faith in love.”
Nell’s throat tightened. She shook her head, her breath hitching as she tried to find the air to interrupt. “Edmund?—”
“I can offer you my name.” He squeezed her hand gently, his brown eyes pinning hers with a quiet, fierce intensity. “I can offer you my home. Stability. Security. I would be a man who would treat your children as his own, who would love them like they were born to me. Not someday, not when circumstances permit. Now. Today.”
It was everything she should want. It was everything that made sense.
“You deserve someone who sees your worth.” He leaned in closer, his thumb tracing a slow, rhythmic path across her knuckles. “Someone steady. Reliable.”
Steady.The opposite of reckless.
“I am not asking for an answer today.” He released her hand and stepped back, giving her space to breathe as he smoothed his coat. “I know this is sudden. I know you need time to think. I am only asking you to consider it.”
Nell’s throat felt too tight for words, and she pressed her hand to her chest to still the fluttering there. “I don’t know what to say.”
