“Promise you will at least consider it. Speak to Mrs. Danvers. Ask your boys. I could use a good man like you.”
“Don’t worry. Annie’s heard every word. She’s probably already packing our trunks.”
“It isn’t true,” she called from upstairs.
Tom pointed toward the stairwell. “Good woman, but she can’t keep to herself. Worries over me too much.”
“It sounds as though she loves you quite dearly.”
Tom lifted an eyebrow. “That is true, too.”
Owen pressed his hands to his knees and stood. “I’d better leave. But please think about what I’ve said. It would be a fair relief to have you at my side.”
“I’ll consider it.” Tom ran his hand over his dark hair. “Will you come for dinner tomorrow? I’d like you to meet the boys.”
Owen thought about Emma, but even if he wanted to return to Briarstead now, he couldn’t. Philosopher needed a few days of rest before he could make the return journey. “I would like that.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Mr. Lofton sat directlybeside Emma in church, his son Lewis taking the final seat on his other side and boxing her in. She tried to scoot closer to Mrs. Buckley, but there was little room on that end due to Owen’s parents taking up the space on her other side. Emma was well and truly sandwiched.
Ever since Mr. Lofton had left the dressing table at Primrose End, despite Emma’s clear refusal to accept it, she had noticed a subtle but marked attention from him. It begged the question: was Mr. Lofton making his attention known now, or had it always been there, and Emma had only been blind to it before? Mrs. Pennington had mentioned something long ago in her millinery shop, but Emma had actively closed her eyes to the signs that had been directly in front of her.
She had always been careful not to give any gentleman reason to believe she considered them in a romantic way. Where had she gone wrong with this one?
Was it the kindness she had shown Lewis? The boy had lost his mother. It was a pain Emma knew well, and she had only meant to be a friendly face. Surely that had not encouraged his father to believe she would be amenable tomarriage.To leavingMrs. Buckley stranded and choosing her own selfish desires over the comfort and support of a dear friend.
Yes, Emma had always longed to become a mother, but not to the extent of leaping into another family merely because they had lost their wife and mother. She had also dreamed of love.
Mr. Graveley’s sermon drew to a close, and chatter in the church rose as the congregants filed out of their rows and joined in conversation. Emma pinned a smile on her face and directed it to Lewis. “I had heard you suffered a fall, young man. How is your leg faring?”
“Much better now.” He sent his father a scowl. “I’ve been able to walk on it fordays,but my papa won’t allow me to leave the house except for church.”
She imagined it was to keep him from the uneven terrain near the river. “How very wise to heed his counsel. If you were to injure it worse, could you imagine how much longer you would be forced to remain abed? At least now you’re beginning to move about.”
“I suppose that is true.” The scowl vanished. Lewis gave Mr. Lofton an appraising look. “I’m going to find Harry.”
“Very well.”
Emma rose, watching Lewis limp along the walkway and slip outside. Mrs. Buckley had followed her group of friends, moving together like the school of fish Lewis would like to catch.
Mr. Lofton held his hat in his hands. His eyes were sharp, intelligent. Why hadn’t she noticed how they followed her movements before now? Perhaps because she had been so grateful to have a friend. Mr. Lofton had certainly filled that role as well. There must have been a point when his objective shifted, but it had been such a subtle change that Emma had missed it entirely.
“How are the ladies of Buckley Place settling into Primrose End?”
Emma let out a brief sigh. “Far better than I anticipated. Ithas begun to feel quite homey. Mrs. Buckley’s routines have not altered significantly, and we are finding our rhythm with the new servants.”
“That is wonderful news.”
It was time she spoke to him plainly about the dressing table. They had filtered out of the pew and stood at the end, making their way slowly toward the door. No one was near enough to overhear them. “While your kindness and generosity are greatly appreciated, Mr. Lofton, I’m afraid I will not be able to keep Sarah’s table.”
He stopped at the end of the final pew, his hand resting on the back of the bench. “It was given to Mrs. Buckley.”
Emma paused, raising her eyebrows. “We are in a church, sir.”
Mr. Lofton’s face wrinkled into a smile. “Oh, very well. I will not press the matter further. You and I both know I wanted you to have it. But the truth remains that I gifted it to your employer.”
“Which was a clever way of putting it in my hands.” She shook her head slightly. “I cannot accept such a grand gesture when I know I have nothing with which to repay you.”
