“After you left for London, I started baking again.”
His eyes widened with interest. “You did?”
She nodded. “Turns out the townsfolk love my bread and my cakes. I sold out nearly every day.”
“You were selling your goods?” He gazed at her in wonder. “Out of necessity or because you enjoy it?”
“Both, if I’m to be honest.” When he raised one eyebrow in question she said, “The bank froze my accounts on the basis of needing to figure out whether or not I owed George money. The funds currently at my disposal came from the sale of my London townhouse, which was thankfully in my name alone since George had the forethought to transfer the deed. But that money won’t last forever, so I decided to find a way in which to earn more.”
“And who is running this business of yours now while you are away?”
“I left Betsy in charge.”
He shook his head. “Why on earth didn’t you mention all of this before?”
She shrugged. Perhaps her reasoning had been silly. “For one thing it seemed unimportant compared with everything else we had to discuss. And for another, I know how much you value your work, and I had no wish for you to even consider giving that up for me.”
“Mina, you have to stop putting yourself second and feeling guilty when you don’t. If we are to make our relationship work then I need to know you will voice your own hopes and dreams, even if they oppose my own. Somehow, no matter what, we’ll find a way to compromise. But imagine how I would feel if I learned that my happiness came at the expense of yours? If the situation were reversed, would you enjoy knowing I gave up everything for you without you having a chance to do the same?”
“Of course not.”
“Then promise me you will tell me what you want so we can build a life we can both enjoy.”
“You’re right,” she said. “I’m sorry, James.”
“There’s no need for that. I just want you to think of me as your partner and your equal, rather than someone you constantly have to please.” He pressed another kiss to her lips. “Agreed?”
“As long as you promise to finish the running water project you’ve started at your house.”
He laughed. “You saw the pipes, did you?”
A smile tugged at her lips. “They were hard to miss.”
“Very well then,” he said. “We’ll support each other and make sure we each fulfill our dreams.”
The pleasure his words instilled in her was indescribable. While George had been her dearest friend and had always listened to her and offered advice, he’d never really understood her desire to bake when they had a capable servant to do the job. He’d also reasoned that her idea to open a bakery wouldn’t help their family’s social standing. When she’d tried to equate it with his furniture company, she’d been met with a look of incomprehension.
And because of the guilt she’d harbored over him getting stuck in a marriage with her, she’d dropped the subject because she’d believed she had no right to argue.
But James got it. Moreover, he encouraged her to assert herself and fight for more than a tolerable existence. It was a gratifying experience – one that made her reflect on just how much she and George had given up when they’d chosen to marry each other. Luckily, they’d both been given a second chance to find happiness with the right people.
This thought remained at the front of Wilhelmina’s mind as she watched her daughter speak her vows the following afternoon. While Henry had been good for Cynthia, Michael’s personality seemed to be more in tune with hers. Seeing the love that shone in their eyes as the priest pronounced them husband and wife was far more freeing than Wilhelmina had expected, and when she bid the newly married couple farewell later on and left the house together with James, it felt like a boulder had been removed from her breast.
“Are you absolutely certain you want me to come home with you?” she asked as soon as he’d helped her into a hired hackney and claimed the seat across from her. “If people find out they’ll—”
“What?” James clasped her hand in his larger one. “Cloverfield already has the world thinking you are my mistress. If you ask me, we might as well use that claim to our advantage.”
She felt the tightness of her own frown. “But I’m not your mistress, James, and I have no wish to be.”
“It’s only temporary, Mina.” He angled himself toward her so their knees touched. His expression was suddenly marred by severity. “I have a plan, or at least I am working on one. If all goes well, Cloverfield’s lies will be brought to light and you shall be understood rather than shunned. Now, I cannot promise you that your reputation will be restored to its fullest, but I do believe my efforts will lead to acceptance by many of those who have thought ill of you.”
Panic gripped her. “James, if you tell anyone George’s accusations against me were false then—”
“That’s not my intention at all.”
Her lips parted with surprise. She searched his face. “Then how?”
He placed his arm around her and drew her closer. “Do you trust me?”
