Page 18 of The Forgotten (Echoes from the Past #2)

SIXTEEN

“Grieving?! Need time?!” Maude exclaimed, her eyebrows virtually disappearing beneath her headpiece.

“Are you mad, girl? When a man like Lord Devon shows an interest, you let him know, without being too forward of course, that you are his for the taking. What do you think will happen to you once his mother dies? You will be back where you started, only older and less desirable. I wanted to insinuate you into Lady Blythe’s household in the hope that you might catch the eye of an eligible man.

Well, you’ve caught the eye of the most eligible one of all, and he doesn’t even have children for you to raise.

Just think what this could mean for you, Petra. ”

“Mother, with all due respect, I’m simply not ready to marry again, especially to a man I hardly know.

I’m sure Thomas is a good man, but he’s considerably above me in wealth and station.

He will regret his choice and take his anger out on me,” Petra replied, fervently wishing that she hadn’t shared her conversation with Thomas with her mother.

Of course, Maude was right to some degree, and Petra would have given her own daughter similar advice, but the thought of being owned by a man once again scared Petra into caution.

She worried about the future, worked long hours to put food on the table, and barely saw her children, but at least no one beat her if the mood took them or if they had a difficult day, or rode her until she was sore and bleeding.

Thomas was a big man, like Cyril, a man who had the power to hurt her badly if he chose to do so.

She didn’t think him a brutal man, but no one really knew what went on between a husband and wife behind closed doors .

And then there was Avery. Petra had kept his return to Dunwich a secret from her mother.

Avery had unintentionally ruined her life once, and he had the power to do so again, but the thought of seeing him made Petra smile foolishly.

Her hands shook with nervousness as she smoothed down the fabric of her skirt as she stared into the dying flames of the fire but seeing only Avery’s face.

He was the only man she’d ever loved, and the only man who’d ever been kind and loving to her in return.

He would have married her had his father not sent him away, and he would have cherished her and their son.

Perhaps Edwin would have turned out all right had Avery been there to raise him, rather than Cyril who frightened the child with his booming voice and quick temper.

Avery would never have raised a hand to either of them, of that she was sure.

He might not have desired to take the Holy Orders, but he did have a predisposition for the priesthood.

He was kind and sympathetic, and eager to help when he could.

But Avery was as far out of her reach as he ever was, Petra reminded herself as she tore her gaze away from the hearth.

He was Father Avery now, a Roman Catholic priest.

Petra smothered the fire and bid her mother a good night before climbing up to her frigid loft and undressing for bed.

She would not reject Thomas outright, she decided as she unpinned her hair, nor would she encourage him as her mother suggested.

She would simply go about her daily business and see where that took her.

She lay awake for some time, worrying about the future, but when she finally drifted off to sleep, it was Avery, not Thomas, who was in her thoughts.