Part of her was annoyed at John for interrupting her moment with Adam, when she was so close to finding her courage. Another part of her was thankful that John had interrupted, for she was not yet as brave as she wanted to be.
Diana and Lord Blackthorne laughed from the parlor, seemingly unaware that anyone had even knocked on the door.
“Miss Oxley, may I have a moment of your time?” John asked.
Madeline looked at Adam questioningly. He gave her a nod that told her she was free to do as she wished.
She whispered to the children to go upstairs and get ready for bed, and that she would be up shortly to say good-night. Then Madeline put one foot in front of the other, slowly moving down the hall to where Adam and John stood side by side, watching her.
“Shall we go sit on the veranda, John? The sunset is quite lovely.”
She noticed Adam’s shoulders rise and fall, and knew that he was worried.
John sat on the bench outside on the veranda. “Thank you for seeing me, Madeline. I know it’s not the usual time to call, but I needed to come and say my piece, before it was too late.”
“Too late?” she replied. “What is it, John, that holds such urgency?”
He squeezed his hat in his callused hands, took a deep breath and blurted out, “I’ve come to ask you to marry me.”
Lively music from the pianoforte inside began again, lending a clumsy quality to the already awkward moment.
Madeline cleared her throat. “You surprise me, John. Why do you feel you must be rushed?”
“Because I can see what’s going on with Mr.
Coates.”
Madeline stiffened. “I beg your pardon?”
“Maybe you don’t see it, but he’s fallen in love with you. I saw it in his eyes the night he came to my house, searching for you. I saw it when he looked at you when you came out of Lady Thurston’s room, after the doctor tended to her, and I saw it in his eyes, just now. He didn’t want me to speak to you. I can’t in good conscience let you go on living here, especially when Mr. Coates is engaged to your sister. I’ve had a mind to propose for a while, and I decided I ought to do it now, before something terrible happens.”
“Something terrible…such as?”
“Before he…you’ll pardon me if I don’t say it, miss.”
Madeline sat very still. “I have a will of my own, John. You need not worry about anything like that.” She recalled the day she’d punched a Yorkshire vicar between the eyes.
He leaned back, only somewhat appeased. “My proposal still stands, Miss Oxley. I…I want to marry you.”
John did care for her; she knew it with certainty. It wasn’t exactly the most romantic or heartfelt proposal she’d imagined—considering he made it appear that he was doing her a favor—but he was a decent man. She knew that, too.
But did she love him?
No.
Could sheeverlove him?
No, she could not. She loved only one man.
She had to admit, however, there was something safe about being with John Metcalf. She noticed that her heart was not racing, and she felt no anxieties. There was nothing confusing about him.
The truth of it was that he was not a danger to her, for there was no intimate connection between them. Nothing fragile. She could marry John and simply live a comfortable life in his house, farming the land, gardening, and fearing nothing, for essentially, she would continue to live alone.
At least, her heart would. She could retreat into her own thoughts most of the time and make casual conversation with John when he was at home, and he would not even know that she was keeping anything from him, for he had never seen the real Madeline. He had never even suspected that therewasa real Madeline beneath what she showed to the world.
Adam knew it, and he made her feel so vulnerable.
Yes, John would be safe.
