Page 56 of The Gentlewoman Companion (The Gentlewoman #4)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

L ouisa’s breath was coming too quickly for her to think properly. She needed distance. Time to think. This petition was never something she’d expected, not since coming to Stillwater. What would it mean to accept James?

She raised her hand to stay him and went behind the house.

Once she started, she could not slow her feet.

The hawthorns hedging the fields sheltered her as she walked the perimeter of her land.

Lush green leaves stretched over her field, a crop of new potatoes that would be ready for harvest soon.

She had plans for them, plans for Wadebridge.

James’s appearance drew her back to dreams she’d relinquished in favor of embracing herself.

At Stillwater Cottage, she’d become persistence itself, harnessing her willingness to run headlong into decisions.

It had worked; she was prospering. Well, barely, but she sustained herself and Jenny and John and was able to hire day laborers when necessary.

She felt a new kinship with Lady Halverton, who had found solace in running an estate; Stillwater was a mere trifle compared to Lundbrooke, but she was learning, improving, making good. How could she relinquish these gains?

Yet wasn’t James always with her? Didn’t she read and re-read every word Lady Halverton wrote about him?

Didn’t his face rise before her at the start and end of each day when she breathed in the scent of that rosemary soap?

She spoke to Hal like he was James, telling him everything.

She ached with the wanting of him. Courage would be required to reevaluate her plans for Stillwater, but the plants thriving in her fields proved she was capable of whatever she set her mind to.

He would encourage her to chase her dreams wherever they led her, and she could think of nothing that would not be made better by experiencing it with him.

She had promised herself nearly a year past she would never consider marrying a man until she could be certain of his trustworthiness and intentions.

James had proven his character over and over again, from the first moments of their acquaintance.

She loved him and was far more capable of understanding and giving her affection than ever she’d been before.

Louisa would be required to step back into the posh world he inhabited and where she would never truly belong, yet hadn’t she proven to herself she could endure dismissals and shunning and gossip?

It would take strength to hold up her head, but he would support her, keep her standing when she wanted to collapse.

To have that always was a treasure too precious to decline.

She could be alone, but she did not want to.

She spun on her heel and ran.

James was pacing in front of the house, his head bowed. He turned as she emerged. She threw her arms around his neck. “Yes! But James, when we marry, we must return to Stillwater on occasion.”

“Of course.” His breath tickled her ear. “Louisa, you need to know that I love you as you are. Your past decisions and struggles have made you into the person I love beyond my own life.”

“People will not approve of our union, but we must do as we please.”

“We will. Together, we are unstoppable.”

She felt her mouth stretch into a smile, loving his words.

His arms enfolded her and pulled her to him. The scent of his rosemary soap brought her home.

“This is where I belong,” she said. “I’ve always known it. I love you, James.”

He brushed his thumb over her lips and tilted her chin down.

She met him halfway, leaving no doubt of the truth of her statement.

Her lips fell softly to his, a breath, a whisper, a tentative plea to love and accept.

He moaned under her sweetness and pulled her closer, binding together their strengths and foibles, forming one perfect whole.

“I took the liberty of speaking with your father.”

“You didn’t.”

“I needed to ask his permission to court you. His enthusiasm led me to procure a special license. Don’t be angry. The act to fund the Foundling Hospital is coming for vote in two weeks, and I wanted you to be there.”

“I thought I was the impulsive one.”

“You’ve made me a better person.” His smile faded. “I don’t know what entering the House of Lords will feel like. I might become ill and want to leave forever. Or I may feel obligated to vote. But my mother is correct. Voting is a privilege granted to few, and I should strive not to squander it.”

“There is no one better than you for the job. We need honest men, such as yourself, to vote with conscience.”

“I believe I will understand better how to move forward after speaking for the Hospital. The House is the only place I can make peace with my father.”

“It can be to heal from such hurt.” She looked into his golden eyes, so sincere, so gentle. “I will be there with you.”

“Will you?”

She laughed. “But we must make haste. The church is not far.”

She wrapped her hand in his and pulled him toward the road.