“We have been patient, Father,” he said. “Mourning is a difficult and lonely business, and it is understandable that you might seek comfort through this trying time, but we cannot excuse this behavior any longer. It is time for you to cut ties with Miss Stillwell.”
Silence followed that as father and son stared at one another.
“No.”
A single word, yet the strength with which Baxter spoke it and the tightness of his grip on her hand testified to the certainty he felt in it. Hettie’s heart quickened its pace, though she wished it was due to the sweetness of the gesture and not the nastiness that had forced it.
Mrs. Baxter openly gaped, whilst her husband mutely blinked at his father. Only Mr. Goswick seemed unconcerned, continuing to watch his father with narrowed eyes.
“Consider this, Father. Juniper Court isn’t healthy enough to sustain you,” said Mr. Goswick. “You live here on my charity, and I shan’t give you another cent if you cling to this silly infatuation.”
It was Hettie’s turn to squeeze Baxter’s hand, though it was more for her comfort than his. The chill of the moment faded beneath a spark of anger that flared in her heart at the sight of his son extorting him. Her thoughts flooded with all the many things she might say to such a declaration, but she had sense enough to hold her tongue and remind herself that answering in haste would not make the situation any better.
His children were grieving. This whole situation was a shock to them, and it wouldn’t do to judge them for it. Patience. Forcing herself to breathe, she held fast to that and Baxter’s hand, refusing to give voice to the burning words that pushed her to defend the man she loved.
“It pains me that you believe you must take such measures,” said Baxter. “But I do not understand why you feel you need to do so. I was honorable and faithful to your mother, but she is gone, and I cannot bring her back. Is it wrong for me to love another?”
Yes, it was better to let calmer heads prevail, for Baxter’s words were far more diplomatic than Hettie’s would’ve been had she given her tongue free rein. They didn’t need to know that he hadn’t loved their mother and that she was a poisonous shrew who had done her best to ruin Baxter’s happiness. There was no good to be had in saying such things.
But then Mr. Goswick finally turned his gaze to Hettie. “Were you thinking of landing yourself a wealthy husband with a fine estate? I can tell you he has nothing to offer you. Juniper Court is let. Whatever income it generates is paying off debts, and the little left over is being used to pay for needed improvements. It cannot sustain you…”
The gentleman continued to spout off dire predictions concerning their financial future, but Hettie didn’t pay it any mind, for a realization struck her with such force that she nearly laughed. For all that they had been speaking of money, it wasn’t until that very moment that she realized they didn’t know the truth.
Though society considered it gauche to speak of money, they were all too interested in whispering about incomes and dowries. Had this courtship taken place some thirty years ago, his family would’ve heard rumors concerning the Stillwell girl’s healthy dowry, but few bothered speaking of spinsters. Most ladies in her situation had no income of note, and Hettie’s living under her brother’s roof for so long would’ve given ample reason for others to believe her similarly cursed. And the gossip surrounding their courtship had mostly focused on how quickly it followed on the heels of his wife’s passing.
Baxter turned to meet her gaze, his own filled with such fear, and Hettie’s heart sank. Did he truly think this might keep them apart? Even if she had to beg charity from her brother, it would be well worth it to keep Baxter. Thankfully, that wasn’t necessary.
“It doesn’t matter to me if he hasn’t a single cent to his name,” said Hettie, when she finally trusted herself to speak. “I have money enough for us both. I live with my brother to aid him, not because I must. My father provided handsomely for all his children, and I am certain my inheritance can restore Juniper Court.”
That was met by silence as they all stared at her—including Baxter. Hettie allowed herself the slightest of smiles.
Young Mr. Baxter scoffed. “And you would entrust that money to the likes of my father? You would die a pauper.”
Hearing those words was terrible enough, but when Baxter merely stood there in silent acceptance, the last fraying bits of her nerves snapped clean away.
“How dare you speak of him with such mockery and derision! He is your father and has done his best for you, yet you constantly denigrate him, and I will not listen to another word of it!” Hettie quickly turned a glance toward Baxter and added, “I apologize. I have tried to keep my temper in check, but I cannot stand here in silence any longer!”
Turning her attention back to his children, she held up a warning finger. “He is a good man—one of the best I have ever known. He is far stronger, more intelligent, and more responsible than you give him credit for, and I trust him implicitly.”
But had she expected outrage or lashing out, Hettie was sorely mistaken. Of course, Mrs. Baxter looked as though she were sucking on a lemon wedge, but his sons relaxed, shaking away the tension of a moment ago as they gazed upon their father with equal parts pity and impatience.
“Father, you don’t need to court her to secure your finances,” said young Mr. Baxter.
This was quickly followed by Mr. Goswick adding, “I apologize for the threat, Father, but in truth, it doesn’t bother me one jot to manage the finances of the family. I am pleased to be of service. You needn’t go to such lengths to improve your situation.”
For all that their disdain might’ve cowed a younger version of Hettie, at present she could only feel a great sigh of relief at this turn of events. It mattered not if they believed the match to be motivated by greed, as long as she could be with Baxter. Let them believe what they would—if it granted them peace.
Leaning into his arm, Hettie held back a smile, but Baxter remained stiff at her side.
“If you had simply told us that from the beginning, we could’ve discussed this,” added his eldest son.
“You needn’t stoop to courtingher,” added Mrs. Baxter, her gaze drifting across Hettie with the joyful look one gave an overflowing chamberpot.
“Enough.” Baxter spoke that single word quietly, though with such authority that the others in the room fell silent and stared at him including Hettie. She hadn’t thought him capable of losing his temper, but there was a flame burning in his gaze as he stared down his children. And though his voice didn’t rise one jot, he spoke with a firmness that wouldn’t be denied.
“Say what you will about me; I will not allow you to speak of Hettie like that.”
*
