“My dear,” David’s voice was tender as he strode toward me. I looked to each side, thinking perhaps I’d misunderstood that look of his and his term of endearment. But of course, there was no one else but me on this side of the room, unless he was referring to Mr. Green. I sneaked a quick glance at the odious man, but he looked just as confused as I. “I believe we owe your family and friends an explanation about why you came back to Breckenridge.”
Oh no.
I closed my eyes tight. Blast the man, he was going to try to protect me. He crossed the room and reached for my hand. It was still shaking, but I allowed him to take it. His look of concern deepened when he noticed the tremors. I forced myself to take a long, slow breath. I needed to be in control.
He leaned forward and, with his breath warm near my ear, whispered, “That man doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you. I cannot watch him annoy you any further. Let me help. Please.”
He squeezed my hand softly and then straightened, his eyes on my face, awaiting an answer. A moment ago, my own mother had practically thrown me at Mr. Green. But now, this man, who hadonce been a boy I’d spent only a short summer with, was offering an escape.
We’d both removed our gloves for dinner and hadn’t had time to replace them. His hand was warm and slightly rough, most likely from thatching roofs. They were the kind of hands a woman could trust. I hadn’t had a man’s hand wrapped around my own since Papa had passed away, at least no well-meaning one, and something about the familiarity of the motion made me want to lean into him and, more than that, allow him to help me. Especially if it meant I didn’t have to go into a room alone with Mr. Green.
I nodded, feeling my chin quiver slightly.
“Miss Atwood”—David’s smile projected pure happiness, and Mr. Green’s scowl deepened—“Anna”—he corrected softly, and my eyes went to Mr. Green. His face was beginning to match his name—“has no reason to speak with you alone, not when she has come to Breckenridge with the express intent of accepting my proposal of marriage.”
I nodded in agreement and then paused.Marriage?My eyes widened, and I whipped my head back to David. Had he just saidmarriage? I kept my smile plastered to my face out of self-preservation, but certainly, I’d misheard him. What in heaven’s name?
Mama’s hands flew to her throat, and her mouth dropped open. Miss Tate’s face went pale, and her eyes flashed back and forth between me and David. Only Mr. and Mrs. Preston seemed happy about the announcement. Mrs. Preston clapped her hands in excitement while Mr. Preston smiled and nudged her with his elbow.
“That is preposterous,” Mr. Green blurted out. “Miss Atwood has lived for the past six years in Derbyshire. She’s never told anyone she was engaged.”
“I proposed to her eight years ago.” David showed no signs of deceit. He stood firm and steady as a mountain in a storm. “Didn’t I, Anna?” His mouth curled to a soft smile that almost mademebelievehe was in earnest. The man hardly knew me. But for whatever reason, he was helping me, and I wasn’t going to sabotage him.
“It’s true,” I said, trying to match his confident smile.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mama said from the other side of the room.
David’s smile dropped, and he looked at Mama as if she’d scolded him. “She knew I wanted to keep it a secret. I was young and needed to prove myself. I’m sorry, madam, if my need for secrecy has caused your family pain.”
“You expect us to believe she’s been engaged for eight years? To you?” Mr. Green asked, his lips pursed together and eyes narrowed. “You barely look of marriageable age now. You would have been a child.”
David straightened, and even though he wasn’t a large man, his presence seemed to take up the room. “Matters of the heart are not bound by the years we’ve lived on the earth. As you must know, seeing as you’ve pursued a woman half your age.”
Mr. Green sputtered, and I pressed my lips together to hold back a sudden laugh. No one ever spoke to him like that.
“How old were you?” Mr. Green asked again, his voice laced with fury.
“Let’s see,” Mr. Preston said cheerfully. “Miss Atwood’s first visit was eight years ago in the summer. Mr. Tate is twenty and three now, which would have made him fifteen.” He paused for a moment. “No! Fourteen, as he wouldn’t have had his birthday yet.” He walked over to David and slapped him on his back. “Knew what you wanted early, didn’t you?”
David’s eyes met mine, and with the same intense expression he had used eight years ago when he had asked me to marry him, he answered, “Yes.”
Mr. Green’s eyes bulged and skirted about the room as if he were the only sane man in it. “A man engaged at fourteen. I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“Is this true, Anna?” Mama asked. “Did he really propose to you that summer?”
I looked between the two men. David stood waiting to protect me. I had no idea what he planned to do after Mr. Green left, but it hardly mattered. Mr. Green was pulling at his cravat, his anger showing in every inch of his body. I couldn’t go with him. Mr. Preston would help us once I explained the need. He felt terrible about not having a place for us to stay. There had to be a better answer than marrying Mr. Green, and David had given me a simple way to be rid of him once and for all. I turned to Mama. “He’s telling the truth. He came to the cottage the night before we left and asked me to marry him.”
“And you accepted him?” Mama asked. “A fourteen-year-old boy? I don’t even remember seeing him that summer. When did you have a chance to meet?”
I ignored her first question, grateful she’d asked a second. “He often came to help me on my visits to Lord Murphy’s tenant farmers. He would carry the basket.” Thank heavens, Mama hadn’t seen him then. Some boys looked like full-grown men at fourteen, but David hadn’t been one of them.
David stepped forward and took Mama’s hand. “Your daughter was a ray of light in an otherwise very dark childhood.” He looked at his sister. She bowed her head and looked away from everyone. “I couldn’t allow that light to leave without at least asking for her to become a permanent part of my future. I knew I was too young to marry. But now I no longer am, and so she has returned. Do you think she would have come here otherwise? Without even speaking with Mr. Preston about how long you would be able to stay?”
David was quite convincing. His sister watched him intently, her light eyes narrowing at his explanation. When she looked at me next, it was to take my measure. Everyone else in the room had seemed to take a side, either in excitement for what was happening or, as in the case of Mr. Green, all-encompassing aggravation. But Miss Tate was uniquely undecided. Of course she was. David wasn’t in need of protection, his announcement did nothing to help him, and Miss Tate didn’t care a whit for me; we’d only just met. She had eyes only for her brother. If anything, she should be as unhappy as Mr. Green.
Mrs. Preston strode over to David and patted his cheek. “Congratulations, Mr. Tate. I remember Miss Atwood and how delightful she was that summer. You did well to ask her when you did; otherwise someone else would have snatched her up. I guess now we all understand how she managed to stay unattached so long.”
“That’s why you haven’t accepted anyone?” Mama sputtered. “You were engaged this whole time, and you never told me? Do you know how much I’ve worried?”
