Page 127 of The Heir
“Westhaven?” Anna greeted him from the drive itself, where she was obviously involved in some gardening task. Her dress was not brown or gray but a pretty white, green, and lavender muslin—with a raised waistline. She had on a floppy straw hat, one that looked to have seen better days but was fetching just the same, and her gloves were grubby with honest Surrey dirt.
“You certainly got here quickly.” Anna smiled at him.
He handed off his horse to a groom and cautiously returned the smile. She looked thinner, true, but there were freckles on her nose, and her smile was only a little guarded.
“It is a pleasant day for a ride to the country,” Westhaven responded, “and though the matter you cited isn’t urgent, delay seldom reduces the size of a difficulty.”
“I appreciate your coming here. Can I offer you a drink? Lemonade? Cider?”
“Lemonade,” the earl said, glancing around. “You have wasted no time making the place a home.”
“I am fortunate,” Anna said, following his gaze. “As hot as it has been, we’ve finally gotten some rain, and I can be about putting in flowers. Heathgate has sent over a number of cuttings, as have Amery and Greymoor.”
They would, the scoundrels.
“I’ve brought along a few, as well,” the earl said. “They’re probably in the stables as we speak.”
“You brought me plants?” Anna’s eyes lit up as if he’d brought her the world.
“I had your grandmother send for them from Rosecroft. Just the things that would travel well—some Holland bulbs, irises, that sort of thing.”
“You brought me my grandfather’s flowers?” Anna stopped and touched his sleeve. “Oh, Westhaven.” He glanced at the hand on his sleeve, wanting to say something witty and ducal and perfect.
“I thought you’d feel more at home here with some of his flowers,” was all that came to mind.
“Oh, you.” Anna hugged him, a simple, friendly hug, but in that hug, he had the first glimmering hope that things just might come right. She kept his arm, wrapping her hands around it and toddling along so close to his side he could drink in the lovely, flowery scent of her.
“So what is this difficulty, Anna?” he asked as he escorted her to the front terrace.
“We will get to that, but first let us address your thirst, and tell me how your family goes on.”
He paused as they reached the front door then realized her grandmother and sister would likely join them inside the house. “Come with me.” He took her by the hand and tugged her along until they were beside the stream, the place where they’d first become intimate. She’d had a bench placed in the shade of the willows, so he drew her there and pulled her down beside him.
“I told myself I’d graciously listen to whatever you felt merited my attention,” he began, “but, Anna, I have been worried about you, and now, after several weeks of silence, you send me two sentences mentioning some problem. I find I have not the reserves of patience manners require: What is wrong, and how can I help?”
A brief paused ensued, both of them studying their joined hands.
“I am expecting,” she said quietly. “Your child, that is. I am… I am going to have a baby.” She peeked over at him again, but he kept his eyes front, trying to absorb the reality behind her words.
He was to be a father, a papa, and she was to be the mother of his child.
Hischildren,God willing.
“I realize this creates awkwardness,” she was prosing on, “but I couldn’t not tell you, and I felt I owed it to you to leave the decision regarding the child’s legitimacy in your hands.”
“I see.”
“I don’t gather you do,” Anna said. “Westhaven, I’d as soon not raise our child as a bastard, so I am asking you to marry me. We do suit, in some ways, but I will understand if you’d rather choose another for your duchess. In fact, I’ve advised you to do just that on more than one occasion. I will understand.”
Another pause while Anna studied their joined hands and Westhaven called upon every ounce of ducal reserve to keep from bellowing his joy to the entire world.
“I must decline,” he said slowly, “though I comprehend the great honor you do me, and I would not wish bastardy on our progeny either.”
“Youmustdecline?” Anna repeated. There was disappointment in her tone, in her eyes. Disappointment andhurt,and even in the midst of overwhelming joy, he was sorry for that. There was no surprise, though, and he was even more sorry for that.
“I must decline,” the earl repeated, his words coming a little faster than he intended, “because I have it on great good authority one accepts a proposal of marriage only when one cannot imagine the rest of one’s life without that person in it, and when one is certain that person loves one and feels similarly in every respect.”
Anna frowned at him.
