Page 47 of A Very Roguish Boxing Day
Tom proceeded to explain how Joseph had attempted to seize Gwen, and he had sallied forth to the rescue.“I know this is a bit irregular, but I don’t like to leave her alone right now.God knows what he’ll try.And the sooner we’re married, the better.”
“I don’t like her to be out here with only Mariah for protection, either,” Mrs.Reynolds said.
Mrs.Smithers nodded.“And she is a widow, after all.”
“And they’re going to marry,” Mrs.Pritchard noted.“It’s all coming right in the end.”
“And sometimes the clarion cry of passion cannot be denied!”Mrs.Hervey proclaimed.
Gwendolyn winced.She turned to Miss Mercy.“I am particularly sorry that you had to witness this scene.”
“Oh, I’m not!”Miss Mercy snapped open a pink lace fan and began fluttering it vigorously.“This is quite the most exciting Boxing Day I’ve ever had.”
“Well, don’t go getting any ideas,” Mrs.Reynolds said, taking Miss Mercy’s arm.“We’d best leave these two alone, as they have a wedding to plan.”
“I’ll let Mr.Pritchard know that he’ll be needed for the service,” Mrs.Pritchard said, setting the Christmas pudding down on the table by the window.
Her friends deposited their gifts and filed out the door.
Once everyone had gone except Tom and Mariah, Gwen collapsed on the sofa.“Oh, God.What will we do now?”
“Get married,” Tom and Mariah said in unison.
Gwen’s eyes flew to Tom.Whereas her heart was flying and she felt ill, he looked strangely calm.“But you don’t want to marry me!”
Tom came and sat beside her on the sofa.“Mariah, is there any chance Gwen and I could have a word?”
“Of course,” Mariah said, hastening through the kitchen door.
Tom took both of her hands in his.His brown eyes were bright.“Look, Gwen—I know this is happening too fast.But I’m not upset about it.”He squeezed her hands.“I like you.I really, really like you.And… you’re going to think this sounds cracked, but I think we could be good together.”
“You do?”Gwen asked, voice breaking.
He brought a hand up to trace her jaw.“I do.We certainly rub along well in the bedchamber.But it’s more than that, isn’t it?We get along.I liked spending Christmas with you, having the snowball fight in the park.I liked eating breakfast with you this morning.I even like your bees!Not that I know too much about them, but I feel like I could help you with them.Do the heavy lifting, repair your bee boles, that sort of thing.I could help you expand and start a business the way you want to.”
His eyes were bright with excitement.“People have heard of me, and I think you saw that I’m pretty good at talking my way into things.I’ll bet I could sweet-talk some rich toff who owns an orangery into letting you put your bees in there.And I’m good at selling things, too.”His expression grew hesitant.“And the truth is…”
Gwen pressed his hands.“The truth is?”
The words came out in a rush.“Remember how I told you about the problem I have?With the ringing in my ears?And how I need some noise to distract me from it?”She nodded, and he blew out a breath.“I slept better last night than I’ve done in ages.I’m pretty sure it’s your bees.They make just the right amount of sound to cover the ringing.”
Ah.So that was it.It made no sense that this impossibly handsome, popular, charismatic man would want to marry the likes ofher.But she was not the primary attraction.Tom had said he wanted to get out of London, to settle in a small town like the one where he grew up, but he was unable to do so because of the ringing in his ears.But Gwen, with her bee boles out back, happened to have the precise situation that made his dream possible.
The thing she needed to decide was whether she minded being married not for herself, but for her bees.
Tom was still speaking.“It just”—he waved his hands, struggling to explain—“it feels like fate, you know?Like the Almighty’s trying to tell me something.That this is where I belong.Here.With you.”
The fact was, people married for practical reasons every single day.An impoverished lord chose an heiress.An aspiring naval officer married a captain’s daughter.The only thing that was unusual was that Gwendolyn’s appeal lay not in the fortune Aunt Agatha had left her, but in the thousands of bees buzzing out back.But she needn’t let that hold her back.
The real question was, did she want to be married to Tom?Her heart answered at once—a resoundingyes.She squeezed her eyes shut.She needed tothink.He certainlyseemedlike the sort of man she would want for a husband.She couldn’t picture him spending her inheritance; gracious, he wouldn’t even pay a couple of pounds for a dress coat that had been made in the present century!He didn’t scorn her for her odd, bluestocking tendencies, or her propensity to do work with her own hands.He even approved of her plans to run her own business.
This might be her only chance to have a family, to have children of her own.She pictured Tom in the park yesterday, cheerfully throwing snowballs and letting the children tackle him.He would be a wonderful father.
And he was kind.So very kind, for all that he made his living beating other men to a pulp.
Was there anything more important than that?
It seemed that she had been silent for too long, because when Gwen opened her eyes, sad resignation was etched on Tom’s face.“I understand that I’m probably not the sort of fellow you would ever consider for?—”
