The Proposal, Page 2

  “It’s all right,” Thomas said to his sister as he stroked her hair and tried to believe his own words. “Just go to sleep.”

  “I’m cold,” she sobbed.

  Thomas shifted the covers up closer to her face.

  “The fire is high; you’ll be warm soon. Just close your eyes, Penny.”

  The little girl did as she was told, but not before whispering, “I need Papa.”

  Thomas didn’t reply. He wanted their father too. From his place at the edge of the bed, Thomas looked over to where James sat by the fire. Normally rather bookish, James hadn’t read a word since their father’s death. Even now he looked into the flames, seemingly unaware of much else.

  A glance down at Penny told Thomas she was asleep. She’d traveled in wide-eyed terror all the way to London, and he knew she was exhausted. Moving quietly to the fire with James, Thomas took a moment and looked at the room they were in. It was a large room with two wide beds. They would be very comfortable in here, but something in his young heart told him not to get too relaxed.

  “Is she asleep?” James asked quietly.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m hungry,” James admitted.

  “I am too.”

  James looked at his brother. “Do you want me to ask for something?”

  “I thought I’d wait until Penny woke.”

  James looked surprised. “She could sleep for hours.”

  Thomas nodded, knowing how true that was. He could see they had little choice.

  “I’ll go, but we might need to take turns so one of us can sit with Penny.”

  “All right. You go first.”

  “Well, we’ll see,” Thomas said as he made for the door.

  Jennings had tried very hard to find more to do in the study, but a sudden need to move about found him in the large entryway. For this reason he spotted Thomas’ descent almost as soon as the lad was on the stairs.

  “Is everything well, Thomas?” Jennings asked as soon as Thomas finished the last step.

  “Our room is very nice. Thank you, sir.”

  “Is there something you need?”

  “My brother and I find we’re a little hungry.”

  “Of course you are,” Jennings said immediately. “Why don’t you go and get James, and the two of you can join me for tea.”

  “Actually, sir, I feel that one of us needs to sit with Penny, so if we could eat separately, that might be best.”

  “Very well,” Jennings said, his face giving nothing away. In all his plans for the boys, he’d forgotten their sister again. “I’ll just have something sent up, shall I?”

  Thomas paused but still managed to say what was on his mind.

  “At the risk of sounding ungrateful, sir, I don’t wish to have Penny disturbed.”

  For the first time Jennings actually looked at this boy. His eyes were red while the flesh around them looked bruised from lack of sleep. He was pale, even to his lips, and he looked as though the world had been set on his shoulders. Jennings knew a compassion he’d not felt in years.

  “Of course you don’t want her disturbed, Thomas. Come with me and eat something, and then James can take your place.”

  Knowing nothing but relief that he’d been understood, Thomas went gratefully, planning to eat swiftly so that James would not have to sit hungry much longer.

  He wouldn’t have hurried so much had he realized the day was going to be spent in their room watching Penny sleep.

  Thomas Jennings woke slowly the next morning. He could feel James’ warmth beside him and realized that he’d slept hard all night. Shifting his neck a bit after feeling its stiffness, he pushed up against the headboard before looking at his sister’s bed.

  Penelope Jennings, dark hair a mass around her face, sat looking across at him.

  “Are you awake, Thomas?”

  “I’m awake.”

  “Do they have food in this house, Thomas?” she asked.

  “Come here,” he said, motioning to her with his hand.

  Not a very large six-year-old, Penny slipped off her bed and climbed up onto the one her brothers shared. Thomas had curled his legs in, and Penny sat on the counterpane in front of him.

  “You slept all night,” Thomas said when she looked at him, reaching to push some of the hair from her face.

  “Do we go home today?”

  “No, Penny, we’re staying here.”

  “Will they let us have food?”

  “Yes. Are you hungry?”

  Penny nodded and Thomas looked at her face. If the portraits didn’t lie, she was a picture of their mother as a child, the mother who had died having her.

  “Is Papa happy with Jesus, or does he miss us, Thomas?” Penny suddenly asked.

  Rested as he was, the oldest Jennings child still felt tears sting at the back of his throat.

  “He is happy with the Lord Jesus, Penny, and he trusts the Lord Jesus to watch over us, but I think if Papa had had a choice, he would have wanted to stay and take care of us.”

  James rolled over then to face his siblings.

  “I was thinking about that too. I think if Papa knew he was going to die, he would have told us about William Jennings, so it wouldn’t have been such a surprise.”

  “Did he know William Jennings?” Penny asked.

  “He knew of him,” Thomas said. “I’m sure of that, but I don’t know if they had much contact.”

  A noise in the hall just then gave the children hope. It was hard to tell if it was too early for breakfast, but they wouldn’t know until they dressed and ventured forth. And that plan went well until they got to Penny’s hair. Mrs Murch had seen to things before they left Morehouse, the children’s home, so this was the first time Thomas had been left with the task. He found in a hurry that the tresses had a mind of their own—just curly enough to be difficult and just thick enough to make it a challenge. Thomas ended up brushing Penny’s hair out and leaving it to fall down the little girl’s back. It was never left that way at home, but they were all growing more hungry by the moment, and it would do for now.

  Hungry as Penny was, leaving the room was hard. The house was large and strange, and she didn’t want to see William Jennings again. He didn’t look at all like her papa, who had been a man who smiled most of the time, and she was a little bit afraid of him. Nevertheless, her stomach was quite empty. She kept glancing toward her brothers, who seemed to know their way around, and was startled when they suddenly spoke to someone.

  “Good morning, Mr Collins,” Thomas ventured. “Are we too early for breakfast?”

  “Not at all, Master Thomas. Please come this way.”

  “Thank you.”

  Penny brought up the rear of this foursome, her eyes taking in statues and paintings that were far above her head.

  “Here you are,” Mr Collins offered once they were in a room with a large table. Thomas directed Penny to a seat. James sat next to her, and Thomas sat across the table.

  “Breakfast will be served momentarily,” Mr Collins informed them before leaving.

  Penny waited only until he exited the room to fix her dress. She had sat on it awkwardly, and the neck was choking her. Putting a small glass figurine on the table, she shifted until she was comfortable.

  “Oh, Penny,” James chided, sounding aggrieved. “You didn’t bring Mr Pat with you.”

  The little girl looked upset as she took it back in her hand.

  “Will Mr Jennings be angry?”

  “No, but there’s no place for it at the breakfast table. You should have left it in the room.”

  “Put it in your pocket,” Thomas suggested, not wanting James and Penny to argue.

  Penny did so, her eyes large and sober. James looked her way and felt bad.

  “It’s all right, Penny. I just don’t want us to make a mistake and get booted out of here. I don’t know where we would go.”

  “Is that going to happen, Thomas?” Penny asked.

  “No, Penny, I don’t think so,
but Father would want us to be on our best behavior.”

  Penny nodded, looking as lost and little as she felt.

  Relief, however, was on the way. Not aware that they were up already, Jennings did not join them, but platters of food began to arrive, and in little time all hunger was forgotten.

  The report back to Cook that the three children were good eaters made that woman’s day. She started baking cookies, four different varieties, with plans to get word to the children that they were to visit her in the kitchen and have samples as often as they liked.

  “I think this is the door,” Thomas said as he led his siblings toward the back of the house and outside a short time after breakfast. Once the door was shut behind them, they stood and took in a high-walled garden, quite large and overflowing with flowers. It was nothing like the rolling hillsides at home, but the fresh air was nice, and the flowers in William Jennings’ yard were beautiful.

  “Stay on the path,” Thomas directed when Penny started forward.

  That little girl was careful to obey, and when she came to a stone bench, she sat down, noticing that it was just her size. Thomas and James moved to look at the lattice work on a trellis, and that was where Jennings found them.

  “Good morning, Thomas. Good morning, James. How was your night’s rest?”

  “Very good, sir. Thank you.”

  “And breakfast? Did you have enough to eat?”

  “Plenty, sir. Should we know the times for meals, Mr Jennings? Were we too early this morning?”

  “Not at all. Why don’t you tell me when you like to eat, and I’ll see to it that Mr Collins alerts the staff.” Remembering again that he was going to have to give the boys time, he mentioned tactfully, “I’m often out in the evenings, but maybe we could breakfast or lunch together.”

  “Thank you, sir. We would enjoy that.”

  “Is this a sundial?” James asked, having been distracted by the instrument high on the stone wall. He’d never seen one that didn’t sit on a pedestal or base on the ground.

  “Yes, it is. I found that at an auction a few years ago and thought I had a good spot for it. What do you think, James?”

  “I think it’s a perfect spot. I’ve read about these but have never seen one. Our father had a sundial in the yard, but the base broke which tipped it slightly. After that it was never correct.”

  “I bought this trellis at the same time,” Jennings went on to add, walking over to put his hand on it. “Did you happen to notice it?”

  “Yes. It looks heavy.”

  “It’s very heavy. It was too large to come through the house, and they had quite the time getting it over the wall.”

  “Is there no door in the wall?” Thomas asked, wishing all of this was as normal as it must have looked.

  “There is, but it’s too small.” The gentleman went on speaking about various things in the garden, but Penny did not join the other three. When she had heard the door open, she scooted off the bench and behind a bush. She could see her brothers from where she was, but at the moment they didn’t look for her. Penny listened to their conversation and relaxed a little when she realized their host had not come to boot them out. Even though she heard the calm, quiet sound of Mr Jennings’ voice and did not find him as scary as she remembered, Penny hoped her brothers would not miss her until he had gone back inside.

  Chapter Two

  Jennings didn’t want to think about how his staff would view his actions late that night, so he kept his movements quiet in the upstairs hallway. The lantern was turned low as he walked from his room toward the door of the children’s bedroom. He opened the portal quietly, went in, and shut it behind him.

  That evening he’d had dinner out with an old friend. The meal had all the makings of a wonderful time, but he couldn’t get the boys from his mind, so it fell a bit flat.

  Now, moving almost silently across the carpet, he approached the bed and looked down where the boys slept, their faces even younger when relaxed in sleep. His heart filled with an unrecognizable emotion as he gazed down at them, and he stood for a time with a smile on his face.

  Almost as an afterthought, he remembered to look at the other bed. Dark curls surrounded an adorable face that was as peacefully asleep as her brothers’. Looking at her, Jennings had to admit that she was indeed a very pretty little girl, but he hadn’t the slightest idea what to do with her. As he turned to exit the room, the realization came that he didn’t have to do anything with her. She could live with him until it was time for her to come out, and then he would marry her to some suitable man.

  In a complete state of naïveté Jennings exited the room, wondering how long he would have to wait before he began working with the boys.

  It didn’t take too many days for the children to find a routine. Life at home had become topsy-turvy after their father’s death, and much as they missed him, it was a comfort to find themselves in a routine that seemed to fit who they were. They breakfasted together, played in the garden, lunched together, spent time reading from Jennings’ remarkable library or the daily news, had dinner, and were always ready for bed at an early hour. This routine didn’t start to show signs of upset until their eighth day in the house.

  Jennings joined them for breakfast, and as soon as they finished, he asked the boys to go horseback riding in the park.

  “You boys do ride?”

  “Yes, sir, we do, but I’m not sure if we should leave Penny on her own.”

  Once again Jennings had lost track of the little girl. At the moment she was sitting quietly, finishing her toast. She gave no indication of having heard any of the conversation.

  “Why don’t you go, Thomas,” James suggested. “I’ll stay with Penny.”

  Thomas looked down at him. He knew that James loved to ride as much as he did. He thought it most kind of him to offer.

  “Are you certain, James?”

  “Yes. Maybe I can go next time.”

  Jennings was very impressed by the grown-up way they handled this, but it was not what he wanted. He wanted both boys to accompany him because he wanted to examine the boys’ horse-management skills at one time, but he carefully kept this thought to himself.

  “Well, then,” Jennings said quietly, “in about an hour, Thomas?”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll be ready.”

  As Jennings went on his way, Thomas glanced at his siblings to see if they had caught any underlying current of displeasure, but they both acted as though all was normal. And by the time Thomas was astride a fine mount and headed toward the park with Jennings, he thought all was normal too. His cousin was a well-educated man and interested in most everything. With tremendous courtesy he told Thomas where they were, explaining the history of some homes and buildings and generally directing the conversation in a most congenial way.

  James and Penny came to mind several times, and Thomas wondered if his concern for them was needless. There had been nothing in the house to indicate that any of them were in danger, but never before had he felt such a weight of responsibility. He knew his father would not wish him to shoulder more than his rightful share, but he felt his father’s loss keenly and was most committed to doing as his father would have wished.

  Thomas snapped out of his thoughts in time to see an open coach passing. The women inside seemed rather intent on Jennings. Both turned to watch him as the coach moved along. Thomas looked to that man to see if he acknowledged them and found that the older Jennings did not seem to notice their attention.

  Questions about how old he was, if he’d ever married, and what his place in London might be suddenly popped into Thomas’ mind, but Jennings chose that moment to tell Thomas about the various schools in the area. Thomas would never have been so rude as to voice any of his musings, but the change in subject put them completely from his mind. Penny and James, however, lingered. Thomas was enjoying his ride, but he couldn’t help but wonder what his brother and sister were up to.

  “Look at this flower!” Penny said as sh
e ran to James in the garden.

  “Penny!” her brother gasped. “You can’t pick them!”

  “I didn’t. It was on the ground.”

  “Oh.” This stopped James for a moment. “Maybe you should put it back where you found it.”

  Penny didn’t argue, and as soon as she turned, James went back to his book. Reading was becoming more comfortable now, and this was his own volume, a gift from his father, one he felt free to bring out of doors.

  “James!” Penny suddenly cried in very real distress. The ten-year-old rushed to find her caught on a rosebush. He was reaching to help her when she jerked and tore the fabric of her dress. Penny was frightened that the tear might put her in very real trouble, and tears were not long in coming.

  Mr Collins came on the scene almost immediately, but even so the children did not realize how closely the staff was keeping an eye on them.

  “Is there a problem, Mr James?”

  James was relieved to have Mr Collins on the scene, but Penny hung her head in embarrassment.

  “Penny has torn her dress.”

  “Shall I look?” Mr Collins’ voice was extremely solicitous, but Penny was still ashamed.

  “I think Cook might be able to help us with this, Miss Penny. Shall we go ask her?”

  Penny nodded, barely holding a fresh rush of tears.

  “Very good,” Mr Collins said as he led off down the path. “I think there might even be cookies fresh from the oven.”

  The children followed quietly, James feeling half sorry for his sister and half irritated that she was crying about torn clothing. The smell of the kitchen, however, soon swept away all negative thoughts. Spices and vanilla assailed his nose even before the door was opened, and James’ small mouth began to water.

  “What’s this?” Cook asked, always looking a bit sterner than she was. Having just handed a warm cookie to each child, she stood looking down at Penny. “Oh, it’s nothing but a tiny tear. We’ll have Megan mending that in no time. Here, both of you take another one of these cookies and don’t cry anymore.”

  “Thank you,” Penny said, following James’ lead and not feeling quite so sorry for herself.