Helena laughed lightly.
It was Aunt who spoke next. “I know you must be surprised, George,” she said. “But I felt this ridiculous family standoff needed to end.” She looked at her brother, but he said nothing, and his gruff expression did not soften either. “While you were in London I went to dear Ralph and told him everything. All about your sincere affections and your determination to marry. I also told him that I had bestowed a living upon Helena and that if he wanted to remain a part of your lives he needed to forgive and forget.” She added, “You need to stop being a bully, Ralph, and reconcile with your daughter and her soon to be husband, I said to him.”
“Father, what do you have to say?” Helena asked.
“Hmm. It looks like I have no financial hold over you anymore. What can I do? It seems I must allow this marriage.”
“But can you do it with an open heart?” Rosemary asked. “You will only make yourself miserable if you do not.”
“Hmm. I cannot say… Perhaps in time. However, I have no choice but to accept the marriage. Do not ask more of me.”
“Oh, Papa…” Helena said as she went over to her father and gave him a hug, which he did not return.
Aunt Rosemary got up from her chair and went over to her brother and gave him a rap on the shoulder with her stick. “Behave yourself, Ralph, give your dear daughter a hug, or, I swear, I will beat you senseless myself.”
Ralph brought his arms up and hugged Helena, but it was not a welcoming hug.
Aunt Rosemary sighed. “I guess you two will need to give the old man time—stubborn old beast.”
Helena turned and rushed back to George who was still in a state of shock.
“Now we can set a date to get married,” she said grabbing hold of him and leaning into him as she bent her right leg behind her in her joy. “I want us to start looking for a house as soon as possible. And remember the little cottage I spoke to you about before… it is still available. Can we go look at it this afternoon?”
George extricated himself from her grasp and said, “One step at a time dearest. Thomas and I have just come back from London with a large part of our investment. We need to go in the next few days to buy the horses we need. Can we please take our time and plan this together at a more leisurely pace?”
Helena pouted. “Oh, Georgie, are you sure you even want to marry me?”
He shook his head at her so obvious attempt to manipulate him. “You know I do. And we shall, but it takes time to make plans, and I must take into account that I need to provide us with an income.”
She sighed. “Oh, very well. But when you come back from buying your stupid horses, promise me we will look at the cottage.”
Nowhesighed. “Oh, very well.”
* * *
Thomas was out riding his own horse. The trainer said he should not ride the racers. They needed special handling and it could confuse them if they were ridden for anything other than training or racing.
He and George were to leave the day after tomorrow to pick up the new horses. Thomas was very excited and pleased to see his dream becoming a reality. They were to leave for Shropshire and would return with the two horses in a wagon specifically outfitted for transporting horses, which they also purchased from the owners of the racers.
Part of what Thomas wanted to accomplish by his ride, was to examine all the fences around the fields where they were going to let the horses graze. But as he was riding the fence line, his mind kept drifting to Jenny. It was driving him crazy. He had just met, perhaps the perfect woman to be the Duchess of Pemberton, but he could not banish his thoughts of the humble baker woman.
He must… he must erase her from his heart and mind. He must. But somehow, he found himself riding toward Chatsworth. He knew where he was going but not why, and he could not seem to help himself from going there.
Of course, he could make an excuse that he wanted some of her delicious pastries, but he knew that was only an excuse and it was not the real reason for his visit.
He entered the town square and headed toward the bakery, but halfway there, he turned the horse and headed back out of town, but at the edge of the square the horse stopped. Did he stop it? He did not know, but somehow the horse turned and headed toward the bakery and stopped in front. Thomas sat in the saddle for a moment, desperate to spur the horse and return home, but instead he dismounted, tied the horse, and went inside the shop.
The young boy at the counter, seeing Thomas, said without Thomas asking, “I will get her, Your Grace.” And soon Jenny came from the back, once again, covered in flour and burst forth with her engaging smile.
“Your Grace, this is a surprise. More teacakes? Tarts? A fruit or custard pie? Or have you tried my Papa’s meat pies yet? He makes a very fine wild pheasant pie you are certain to like.”
Thomas wanted to speak—intended to speak—but could not seem to open his mouth, frozen as he was by her penetrating eyes and smile.
Finally, he blurted out, “Miss Jenny, I might purchase something in a moment, but I was wondering if you might take a break and stroll the square with me for a moment. I should very much like to speak with you privately.”
“I could spare a few moments,” she said, removing her apron and running her hands through her hair, shaking out as much flour as she could. It was a fairly sunny day for late autumn and she needed only a shawl which she picked up from behind the counter.
“I am ready,” she said, and they left the shop.
