Judith couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. Both were things she thought she’d mastered long ago but was quite incapable of managing at present. Good gracious, this was dangerous ground. And then that little voice whispered from the depths of her hidden hopes, telling her he might be speaking the truth.
Could Mr. Byrnes truly care for her as a woman? Not just a mother, but as a proper wife?
The air grew heavy, and Judith’s gaze drifted to his lips, the corner tilting upwards with a hint of mirth. But Mr. Byrnes stepped back, and her lungs began working again. Bowing low, he took her hand in his and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.
While holding it in his, Mr. Byrnes looked up at her and asked, “Would you accompany me on a drive?”
“My employer shan’t be pleased if I neglect my duties.” Good gracious! Had she just attempted to flirt with him? It was a pathetic jest, but it drew a smile from Mr. Byrnes.
“I shall speak to the fellow. Please, Miss Delmonte, drive out with me.”
All thoughts of shoulds and shouldn’ts fled from her thoughts, and Judith nodded as his grin grew, lightening his eyes and making him even more striking than before.
“Fetch your bonnet while I shall ready the horses,” he said, pressing one more kiss on her knuckles before he swept out of the parlor.
Chapter 40
Men are ridiculous. Judith knew better than to make such sweeping declarations as they never proved true, but at present, she felt quite prepared to defend that absolutism. Her current frustration may be focused on one man in particular, but the magnitude of her feelings encompassed more than one target.
Pacing the length of the parlor, Judith scowled at nothing, and her eyes drifted to the bouquets sitting on the end table. And the coffee table. And the mantle. Stowell Cottage smelled heavenly, with their floral fragrance filling every nook and cranny whilst the house slowly transformed into a veritable garden. Judith pinched her lips, forcing them to remain as they were, for every time she considered the flowers surrounding her, those traitorous appendages tended to tip upwards. But Mr. Byrnes deserved no tender thoughts.
With the family gone and no lessons to divert her attention, Judith was stuck thinking about him all the day long. It didn’t help that the bouquets multiplied every day. There was unlikely to be any hothouse flowers available in the area at the rate Mr. Byrnes was purchasing them. She couldn’t even hide in her bedchamber, for that room was equally full of the reminders, and any time she tried to hide them away, they’d reappear. No doubt, Mr. Byrnes had bribed the maids to ensure his offerings were always within Judith’s view.
There was no solace to be found. No amount of painting or music kept her thoughts occupied, and the longer Mr. Byrnes’s campaign continued, the more traitorous her heart and mind grew.
Turning in place, her skirts swished around her, catching the edge of one arrangement, and Judith reached out to catch it before she knocked it to the ground. What would he even do with all these vases once the flowers faded?
But that thought faded as she pressed her nose to the buttery petals. Each bouquet was unique, though some common blossoms made regular appearances, Mr. Byrnes seemed determined to honor his vow to find her favorite flower. And now, the problem wasn’t identifying her favorite but limiting it to only one. They were all so lovely.
And so dear.
Returning the vase to the table, Judith straightened her skirts, shifting her petticoats again and again, though she could not get them to lay quite right. Surely, if what she was feeling was love, it wouldn’t be accompanied by a megrim, but the pain in her head grew each day—along with the inner voice that begged her to reconsider Mr. Byrnes’s proposal.
Judith’s thoughts thrummed with the possibilities that might come from accepting his suit. There were too many unpleasant ones for her to cast aside caution. If she could only find a bit of solace, she might sort this whole mess out, but Mr. Byrnes had inserted himself into her every thought.
Betsie stood in the doorway, and Judith grinned, motioning for her to come into the room and then ushering her towards the sofa. A bit of company fit the bill.
“Please, come and sit a quarter of an hour with me,” said Judith. “I am certain Mrs. Barton can spare you for a moment.”
But Judith knew too well that a housemaid’s work was never finished.
“I came to give you this,” she said, holding out a thin box. “This was delivered a few minutes ago with special instructions for you to enjoy them immediately.”
Judith recognized the packaging and knew in an instant what she would find, but it did not prepare her for the impressive array of marzipan. Each was shaped into sugary versions of the blossoms surrounding her, giving her yet another bouquet. A note, written in an all too familiar hand, rested in the center.
Would you join me on a drive this afternoon? I know we had planned to go out tomorrow, but I cannot bear to wait until then. —S.B.
Another drive. At this rate, Mr. Byrnes would soon be the most proficient driver in Hampshire, but Judith suspected it was his favorite courting activity available to them. Morning visits were well and fine, but the time was limited. Picnics and other such outings were pleasurable, but Mr. Byrnes had made enough rascally comments about their “comfortable situation” on the phaeton bench that Judith suspected he preferred the proximity the carriage seat required.
Judith forced her lips down, biting on them, though she reread the note, her fingers brushing over the edges of the delicate confections. Her vision blurred, and Judith tried to clear away the tears, but the pressure in her chest refused to ease.
Dropping the box beside the nearest bouquet, Judith went in search of her jacket and bonnet.
***
The name Byrnes & Co. was a misnomer; Silas had wanted Hatch’s name tied to the venture from the very beginning, but the young man was not easily swayed. Silas’s money may be the source of their initial capital, but Hatch’s ability and effort made them equal partners. Any success would be due to both of their efforts—not Silas’s alone. A fact that had been proven during the past month.
Between being ill, which left him unable to go into the office, and his courting campaign, which left him exceptionally distracted when he was there, Silas was hardly pulling his weight. But there was Hatch, steering the ship and helping it to thrive even while one of its owners was floundering. Silas would have to make a slow and steady campaign to change the company’s name. But that was a battle for another day.
