Page 83 of My Gentleman Spy
“Do we have to involve my brother? Couldn't I just go away somewhere and send you a note letting you know of my safe arrival?” sheoffered.
Will cleared histhroat.
“I shall need more than a less than subtle suggestion of leave well enough alone to dissuade me from talking to Edgar. A solid and truthful reason would perhaps assist in yourcause.”
Hopeflared.
If she did tell Will the truth of her family schism, he may be convinced of her need to find another solution to their problem. To her mind at least, the current arrangements were more thansatisfactory.
Will was the perfect tenant. He kept a well-run house. The larder was always full of food. And apart from his ongoing disagreement with her cat, Brutus, domestic harmony reigned. She was all for the statusquo.
“Alright, I will tell you what happened between Edgar and myself. Once you have heard me out, you may be more inclined to consider helping me find anothersolution.”
She made a few adjustments of the pillows and then took her time to get as comfortable as her injuries would allow. Will meanwhile sat silent.Waiting.
Hattie looked into his eyes. They were warm, welcoming pools which beckoned her to let go and fall into them. He gave her an encouragingsmile.
For ever after she would mark this moment as the exact time in her life when she knew with her whole being that she was in love with Will. Small flickers of emotion had been stirring from that first day at the market in Gibraltar. On the boat she had fought tirelessly not to fall in love with him. But as she looked at Will everything she felt for him coalesced into something powerful. Love was no longer a concept, but an undeniablereality.
She yearned for him to take her in his arms like he did that day and kiss her oncemore.
Will sat forward in the chair, hands gently clasped together. Outside, the first light of day was breaking. Will was traditionally not an early riser, so she knew he would not have any appointments until later that day. He acted like he had all the time in the world to listen to her, and she wasgrateful.
He was allowing her to take the reins. She could set the pace of their journey to the truth. She welcomed his trust, knowing it was hard won after all she had said and done tohim.
“It's a long story,” sheoffered.
“I'm not going anywhere and neither are you,” hereplied.
She started to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation, but her badly bruised ribs swiftly put an end to her mirth. She wondered if she would ever feel wholeagain.
There was nothing else to do but tell him the truth and hope that he wouldunderstand.
* * *
“When my parentsfirst became followers of Reverend Retribution Brown, Edgar and I were shocked. We both thought it a temporary fad. Another one of Papa's long list of fleeting fancies,” shesaid.
Will had seen enough of the many collections of objects, papers and furniture dotted throughout the house to understand what Hattie meant. Aldred Wright it was clear, was possessed of the very English trait of eccentricity. Why else would anyone want a collection of ceramiceyes.
“It was odd that Mama went to the church meetings with him. She had never been one for more than a dusting of religion on a Sunday morning,” shesaid.
Will nodded. For many, including his own mother, Sunday mass was an opportunity to meet with friends and share glad tidings. Worship was simply a part of the tapestry of theirlives.
The conversation was interrupted at this point by the return of Mrs. Little bearing a tray with a teapot and two cups. She sat them down on the bedsidetable.
“Would you like some breakfast my dear?” she askedHattie.
It mattered little that Will was the master of the house and her employer, Mrs. Little's loyalties clearly lay withHattie.
“No thank you, but I am sure Mr. Saunders must be hungry,” repliedHattie.
“Oh, I know he will be, his breakfast is already baking in the oven,” said Mrs. Little. She gave Will a happysmile.
Will's already good opinion of the housekeeper lifted. Perhaps there was hope for him to become master of his ownhome.
After Mrs. Little left, he leaned over and poured a cup of hot tea from the pot on the bedside table. He offered it to Hattie, but she waved itaway.
“My stomach is still not the best,” shereplied.
