Like most afternoons, Mary sat in the sitting room with Vivian. Together they worked on gifts for Clara’s child. The babe was not to be born for several months and by the time it did, they’d have enough items to fill the entire nursery.
While Vivian knitted a blanket, Mary embroidered the edges on a gown that Thomas’ mother helped her make.
The older couple was to leave soon, they’d extended their visit and had stayed a few additional days, and that seemed to please Thomas to no end. He spent many hours with them, mostly in the evenings.
During the days, Mary had gotten to know Mrs. Sullivan. The woman was plump, with graying hair and a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. Although the woman was slow to warm to Mary, soon they spent many hours in the garden, which was almost ready for spring planting.
Thomas had split his time between his parents and Mary; however, they’d yet to announce their relationship. The only person Mary had shared about her interactions with Thomas, was to Vivian.
“Are you spinning wool while you embroider?” Vivian asked with a smile.
Mary shook her head. “I was thinking about the fact Thomas has not told his parents about us. Should I confront him about it?”
“I am not sure what the proper timing is,” Vivian said tapping a finger to her chin. “I supposed he was waiting for the perfect time.”
“They are about to leave,” Mary pressed. “I don’t wish him to tell them just as they get on the carriage to head home.”
As much as she didn’t want to consider it, she wondered if Thomas had changed his mind about her since spending time with his family. Or perhaps he had told them, and they didn’t approve of her, and he’d not told her to spare her feelings.
“Perhaps he wishes to invite them to move closer. He spoke to Alexander about the availability of cottages on the estate,” Vivian said, and continued. “I love Alexander’s parents, so I am fortunate. Thomas’ parents are more reserved, aren’t they?”
“Yes, they are, especially his father. I wonder if it has to do with my background, the fact that I am not fully English.”
Vivian’s eyes rounded. “I most certainly hope not. If so, then they will never be allowed here again.” Vivian had always been protective of her, which meant she’d never been slighted in the least by Vivian’s friends. Although she was just a companion, many times she’d been invited to outings, which had given her privileges others who looked like her never received. Perhaps because of it, she rarely considered how new acquaintances saw her.
“I will speak to Thomas. It’s time I find out where he stands,” Mary proclaimed.
The next afternoon, only Moira and Lottie were in the kitchen when Mary entered..
“Thomas’ parents are entertaining Father Matthews in the sitting room,” Lottie informed her. “He arrived just a few moments ago.”
“I need to speak to Thomas,” Mary said standing up. “Do you think he’s in the stables?”
Lottie nodded. “I saw him headed that way a bit ago.” Both looked to Mary waiting for her to explain. As much as she wanted to share things with them, if the conversation with Thomas didn’t go as she hoped, then it was best not to divulge any thing at the moment.
Deciding it was best to give them an excuse, so they’d stop staring at her Mary came up with a white lie. “I need to know when he will be going to the village. Mrs. Yarnsby wishes for the seamstress to come to take measurements for dresses.”
She hurried from the room before they could ask anything else. Outside sunshine greeted her, it was a beautiful day. Yet, despite a promise of spring by the lengthening of the days, the wind remained chilly and Mary pulled her shawl close around her shoulders.
The stables were warmer as the wind was blocked and the animals within provided some warmth.
With a thick coat on, leather gloves and his pants tucked into knee-high boots, Thomas raked hay in a far stall.
“Thomas,” she said in soft voice. “You didn’t come inside for breakfast. It is late now, you must be hungry.”
He straightened, and upon meeting her gaze, his expression softened. “I am, but I won’t be eating until I can wash up. I smell pretty badly right now.” Holding the pitchfork with his left hand, he held out the right one. “Don’t come too close.”
“Should you be doing that. Your hands have just recently healed,” Mary admonished him. “I am sure the doctor would be cross to see you doing so much.”
“I have a job to do,” Thomas said and wiped at his face with a cloth that he’d pulled from his back pocket. “Mr. Yarnsby has continued to pay me and for it I am thankful, however, I will not take advantage of his good will.”
Despite his warning, she walked closer. The horse in the nearest stall peered out, and once she stroked its long nose, it turned away, satisfied.
“Thomas have you told your parents about me?”
He gave her a surprised look. “Of course, I have. I told them I was courting you for marriage.”
“For marriage?” Mary’s eyebrows lifted as she held back a smile.
At his chagrined expression, she gave him a pointed look.
“I just told them the day before yesterday, when the three of us went to town,” he admitted.
“How did they take it?” Her voice shook just a bit at the realization that if his parents did not accept her, she would not marry Thomas. Her father’s parents had never accepted the fact he’d married a black woman. Holding firm until their death, her father had never seen them again. She’d witnessed first-hand his sadness at their continued refusals to visit and the returned correspondence.
Not meeting her grandparents, herself, was something she would not subject her own children to. Mary braced herself for his reply, her mind awhirl.
It was obvious Thomas cherished his parents and she did not wish him to lose that relationship.
“I’m sorry to have waited so long to speak to them and then not talking to you about it,” Thomas deflected. “I was hoping to get you alone for a few moments. But it’s been so busy...”
Her breath caught. “They are not happy about it then?”
Thomas let out a breath and seemed to steel himself for her reaction. “Mother thinks you are too elevated in status and used to much finer things that I could never provide. Both think very highly of you, but Mother says I am reaching above my social status with you.”
She almost laughed. Thomas’ parents considered that it was he who was not good enough for her. Laughter bubbled. “Oh dear, that is not what I was expecting.”
“What do you mean? Did you expect them to rebuff you because of the color of your skin?”
Mary nodded. “Yes, that is exactly what I expected, and feared actually.”
“My mother is correct,” Thomas said, his tone somber. “I cannot possibly provide you with the life you’ve become accustomed to. You should think about it. With me as your husband, you would give up many things.”
As much as she wanted to think it didn’t matter, Mary had to accept she’d not considered the vast changes to her life if she married Thomas. What if he decided they would leave and take her away from Vivian? Then she’d have to go with him, of course. “I hope that we would remain in the Yarnsby’s service. I do not wish to be away from Vivian.”
“I would not ever take you from here,” Thomas assured her.
Mary relaxed. “Then I see no reason for us to worry about lifestyle. My father provided a comfortable sum for my needs that I have yet to touch. He and mother have a very nice home in London. I confess to being spoiled a bit upon coming to live with the Humphries. However, I have always hoped to one day live in a small cottage that is all my own.”
“A cottage I can provide,” Thomas said with a grin. There was warmth in his expression as he looked at her. “I wish I could hug you right now.”
“Don’t you dare,” Mary said holding her hands out.
Lottie walked in. “What is he threatening to do?” She asked smiling.
“To come closer,” Mary said.
“I don’t blame you for telling him to stay away,” Lottie replied. “Moira is threatening to come after both of you. Her meat pies are cooling.”
Thomas closed the stall door and put the pitchfork against the wall. “I will be there promptly. I have to wash up.”
Mary and Lottie walked back to the kitchen. Lottie weaved her arm through hers. “When are you two formally announcing your courtship?”
“You know?” Mary’s cheeks heated.
“Ha,” Lottie laughed. “We’ve all known for a long time. Harold saw you kissing when Thomas was injured.”
Her eyes rounded. “Oh dear. I’m not sure I can face him again.”
“Don’t be silly,” Lottie said. “That was almost two months ago, wasn’t it?”
“Oh dear,” Mary repeated and let out a long sigh. In the kitchen the table set for two along with two goblets and the meat pies.
“Enjoy,” Lottie said and walked away.
When Thomas entered, Mary was drinking from the goblet. It was a sweet wine that she was sure Vivian had something to do with.
“What is this?” Thomas asked looking toward the corridor. “Where is everyone?”
“They’ve eaten. Moira and Lottie did this for us. I believe everyone else in the household has been warned to stay away.”
His lips curved. “Ah.”
Mary’s eyes widened. “You told them didn’t you?”
“I admitted to it when Harold confessed to spying us kissing. I asked them not to say anything to you until you were ready to share. I supposed they gave up.”
After holding the chair for her to sit, he then sat across the table from her and extended his hand, which she accepted. “I wish to marry you soon, Mary. I hope you will not make me wait long.”
Warmth filled her and she lost all interest in the meal. However, when Thomas began to eat with gusto, she did as well. They didn’t have a conversation, it was more about companionship and time alone. With so many about in the house, it was rare to steal a moment or two by themselves.
“Tell me,” Thomas began. “When would you like to speak with my parents?”
Despite his assurances, Mary was nervous. “Perhaps tomorrow?”
He must have seen her worry because he squeezed her hand. “That I care for you is enough for them to as well.”
Only once had she been in a relationship. The courtship had abruptly ended when the man’s mother caught sight of her. Despite reassuring her, it had nothing to do with his mother, the man in question had ended things between them immediately thereafter.
Thomas reached for her hand. “Thank you, Mary.”
“For?”
“Accepting me.”
How she wanted to hold him and be kissed by him in that moment.
Seeming to read her mind, he stood and rounded the table. “Would you like to walk outside a bit. I ate too much.” He lifted her shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders.
The chilly air brushing over her face, helped dispel the heat that infused her face at the thought of time alone with Thomas.
Just as they rounded the corner into the walled garden, Thomas pulled her into his arms, his mouth taking hers. Since his jaw healed, Mary discovered kissing him was so much more delightful. His lips pressed against her, tongue probing until she parted her lips and allowed him access. Mary held on to his shoulders, then wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted to her toes. If only time would remain still, she’d be forever grateful.
“I can’t wait to marry you,” Thomas murmured, trailing kisses down the side of her jawline to her throat. “I want you so much.”
It would be almost impossible for them to wait until their wedding night. Mary considered how both Vivian and Clara had married without fanfare. Perhaps it was to become a tradition, because as much as she wanted to have a wedding, what she really wished for was to be Thomas’ wife.
Her breathing hitched when his tongue circled at the base of her neck. The man definitely knew how to take prohibitions away. “Oh Thomas,” Mary murmured, pulling him closer. “We mustn’t.”
Unable to move away, she feebly attempted to push him, but then she pulled his face to hers taking his mouth again. His hands slid down her back cupping her bottom and pulling her against the hardness of his sex. Instinctively she knew if they didn’t stop then, she’d drag him to her bedroom.
Sounds of the night emerged past their heavy breathing. In the distance owls sang their sad songs, while horses neighed just before ending their vigil. Mary broke the kiss and pressed her forehead to his chin. “We should go inside.”
“There is something I must ask you,” Thomas said. “I’ve taken it for granted but have yet to do.”
Mary frowned. “What is it?”
“Will you marry me,” Thomas lowered to one knee. “I love you Mary Asher, and nothing would make me happier than if you accept me as your husband.”
Her breath caught. Although he’d mentioned wishing to marry her, he’d not formally proposed.
“Yes. Of course, I will marry you,” Mary exclaimed with half a cry. “I hate that I’m about to cry.”
The sight of Thomas’ handsome face grew out of focus as happy tears slipped down her cheeks. They hugged and he pressed a kiss to her temple. “Don’t cry.”
“I’m happy. To be honest, didn’t expect to ever marry at all. Even though I wished it.”
Thomas chuckled. “I didn’t expect to marry either. Father Matthews will be disappointed when we go ask that he marry us.”
Dislodging from his embrace, she took his hands and Mary looked up at him. “He may not marry us. I am not catholic.”
Thomas frowned. “I’d not considered it. We will have to convince him.”
“I must write my parents,” Mary said. “You will have to speak to my father.”
“Yes, of course.”
He took her hand and guided her away from the garden and toward the front of the house. Mary took in the grand estate and sighed. “This house for some reason reminds me of attending Vauxhall with Vivian, it was in June, just last year.”
Thomas looked to the building. “Tell me about it.”
“It was a grand celebration, a masquerade and reconstruction of the battle of Waterloo. I have never seen so many grand costumes, so many beautiful displays and so much desperation. The debutants out to find husbands, while pretending to be shy, while the mothers did their best to shove them in front of eligible bachelors.
“Did the Humphries ladies not suffer the same fate?”
“Oh no,” Mary replied with a soft chuckle. “Mrs. Humphries took ill, so their father and cousin Todd Humphries escorted them. Much to their delight, the men were too overwhelmed with all the happenings, they totally forgot to attempt matchmaking.”
Thomas laughed. “I bet it didn’t go well with Mrs. Humphries.”
“Not at all,” Mary replied. “However, she was mollified by our stories of what a wonderful time we all had.”
“You have had a good life,” Thomas said quietly.
“And it is about to get even better,” Mary replied and kissed his jaw. “Shall we go inside?”
The following morning Mary woke with a smile. It could have been storming outside and she would have seen rainbows and sunshine. As she walked into the kitchen, Moira was alone.
“You are up very early,” the woman said motioning to the stove. “There is plenty of hot water in the kettle.”
Already bread was baking, the aroma filling the room. Mary prepared tea while telling Moira of her plans for the day.
Thomas appeared in the doorway and her stomach did funny things at seeing him. “Would you like to take breakfast with my parents and I?”
She followed him to the small staff combination sitting and dining room, where the older couple sat with cups in hand and plates before them on a table that seated eight.
Both looked up and smiled warmly as they walked in.
“Good morning,” Mary murmured settling into the chair Thomas held out for her.
“Good morning, Dear,” his mother replied. “You look absolutely splendid, as always.”
It had not occurred to Mary that she wore clothing of the same fabrics that Vivian did. Vivian had always insisted the seamstresses make dresses for her whenever they came to measure her. Although she would only get one, and Vivian three or four, it had allowed her to compile a varied and beautiful wardrobe.
“Thank you, I am very fortunate to have a generous employer, who considers me a friend,” Mary explained. “It is truly a blessing to have come to be Mrs. Yarnsby’s companion.”
Thomas cleared his throat and reached for her hand. Mary’s eyes widened as he spoke. “I have asked Mary to marry me and she’s accepted.”
His parents exchanged a look, and his father chuckled. “We hoped you would before we left.”
Mrs. Sullivan stood and reached for Mary’s other hand. “I am very pleased. I am sure you will make Thomas very happy.”
“We have raised our son to be a good man, I have no doubt he will make you a good husband, young lady,” Mr. Sullivan added, his eyes shiny with emotion.
Mary’s heart leaped with joy and she let out a long breath. “I love him very much. I am very fortunate to have met your son.”
A couple days later, as she walked through the house, Mary mentally inventoried chores that had to be completed upon her return from Lark’s Song. With only the Yarnsby’s in residence now, the house seemed very empty. Thomas’ parents had left the day before with promises to return for their wedding.
“Miss Vivian and I are going to Lark’s Song and join Mr. Yarnsby. We are to stay for a few days,” Mary announced entering the kitchen. “You will have time to rest, Moira.”
“Nonsense,” Moira replied. “I plan to scrub the entire kitchen and Lottie will take advantage and clean the sitting area.”
Mary laughed. “I hope you will take some time. You deserve it.”
I have been to Lark’s Song, it is quite a beautiful estate,” Moira said ignoring her comment. “Unlike this house, it’s a perfect size.”
“True,” Mary replied. “This house is much too large. Even with a big family and staff, I cannot imagine it ever being filled.”
Alexander Yarnsby was already at Lark’s Song since he worked with William Torrington. Together the men managed their holdings and investments and were rarely apart for more than a couple days.
Thomas drove them to the Torrington estate and was to remain there, so he could drive them back.
When she and Vivian exited from the coach, Clara Torrington and her companion, Molly, rushed to greet them. After living together since very young, it was an adjustment for all of them not to see each other daily.
“I am so happy you will be staying for a few days,” Clara exclaimed, hugging her sister. She then came to Mary and hugged her tightly. “I miss you both and Penelope so much,” she said referring to the third and youngest sister, who remained in London.
As they made their way to the front door, Mary looked over her shoulder to see that Thomas spoke with Mr. Yarnsby. She tried to catch his eye, but she was pulled into the house by Molly.
“A letter came for you yesterday,” Molly said. “I know you’d want to know right away. It’s from your father.”
“Oh?” Mary was confused. “Most of her correspondence was always with her mother. “That’s odd. Can I see it?”
She hurried with Molly to a small sitting room just outside the kitchen. It was where the staff spent their evenings before retiring for the night. Molly went to a drawer and pulled the letter out. “Here you go. I’ll leave you to read.”
At her father’s perfect penmanship her lips curved. She’d always aspired to write like him and had spent hours practicing. Although her handwriting was nice, it was not as beautiful as his.
She opened the letter and lowered to a chair.
Dearest Mary Elisabeth,
I pray this letter finds you in good health and happy. Your mother and I miss you terribly.
I do not wish to worry you but am hopeful that you can travel to London soon. Your mother has taken a fall and is abed. She’s become melancholy since she’s unable to go anywhere at the moment. She would be so delighted to see you.
Her birthday is soon, I ask that you consider gifting her with your presence.
Warmest regards, your loving father.
Her heart sank. She’d hoped to spend her time at Lark’s Song discussing her upcoming wedding as neither she or Thomas wished to wait long.
Now she had to leave immediately so that she’d arrive in time for her mother’s birthday the following day. She leaned back and closed her eyes for a moment before racing from the room and out in hopes of finding Thomas.
“Whatever is the matter?” Molly asked. “Is its bad news?”
Mary stepped outside the front door and looked around, thankfully the carriage remained hitched.
“Somewhat. I must go to London. My mother has taken a fall...” Just then Thomas appeared from the opposite side of the carriage. “Will you excuse me Molly. I must speak to Thomas.”
“Yes of course.”
When Thomas looked to her, he must have read something in her expression, because he hurried to her. “Is something wrong?”
She led him away from the front of the house. “My mother is not well. She fell. I must go to London immediately.”
“I can take you,” he said taking her hands. “Don’t worry. I will speak to Mr. Yarnsby and I am sure he will agree to it.”
“You drove us here. I fear you are too exhausted to make the long ride to London.”
He took her face in both hands and kissed her lips. “I’ll be fine.”
“I will speak to Miss Vivian.” She let out a long sigh. “I would prefer to leave within a couple of hours so we can arrive in London before dark.”
“I will alert Mr. Yarnsby.”
They went inside, Thomas to find Mr. Yarnsby and she to find Vivian.
Upon entering the parlor, it was obvious Molly had already told the others what occurred because Vivian came to her. “You must go immediately.”
Clara came up beside her sister. “If Thomas is too tired to take you, our driver can take you.”
“He wishes to take me,” Mary replied, not sure why, but began to cry. “She is not so ill that I have to worry. However, father wishes for me to come for her birthday.”
Vivian hugged her. “I think it is a marvelous idea.”
“Are you sure it’s prudent for you to travel alone with Thomas?” Clara asked with a gleam in her eye. “That is a long time to be unchaperoned.”
Mary couldn’t help but allow the moment of levity to entice a smile. “I will be the picture of utter decorum.”
“I wouldn’t be,” Clara admitted. “I bet Vivian would.”
Vivian laughed. “Don’t be so sure, sister.”
She was grateful for the banter as it gave her an opportunity to gather her wits. “Thankfully I am already packed. Which carriage can we take?”
“Ours,” Vivian said. “I can return to Woodhall with Alexander in one of the Torrington carriages.”
“Thank you,” Mary hugged Vivian and then accepted hugs from Clara and Molly. “I plan to remain just a few days.”
Vivian hugged her. “You can return with Penelope. She plans to come for the gathering in a couple weeks.”
Together they went to find the men and shortly thereafter, Mary found herself on the road again, this time alone.
It was the first time she’d traveled so far alone. Although Thomas was with her, he drove the closed carriage, so it was impossible to hold a conversation with him. If she knocked on the side of it, for him to stop, it would only be for a good reason.
Her mind kept going to her mother. It wasn't like the forever cheery woman to be forlorn for any reason. Always, keeping busy, visiting people and attending to the needs of the elderly in her neighborhood her mother was quite active. It was probably having to remain in bed for an extended time that brought her to be sad.
The letter had been written a week earlier. Hopefully by the time she arrived, her mother would be in better spirits and it would be a wonderful visit.
Mary peered out the window at the passing landscape. They were about halfway to London, soon the outskirts of the huge city would come into view.
They came to a stop and she was glad for it. No doubt Thomas had to relieve himself. Her lips curved as an idea came to mind. This would be a perfect time for privacy and time together. As much as she’d grown to enjoy their little escapades for a kiss here and there, the prospect of not having to worry about someone happening upon them, was enticing.
“Would you like to come out and stretch your legs,” Thomas asked when he opened the door.
“Yes, go see about your needs,” Mary replied. “Perhaps we can chat when you return.”
He hurried to a cusp of trees and Mary sprang into action, grabbing the thick blankets she’d brought to keep warm on the trip. She went just short distance from where the carriage was and spread the blankets, then hurried back for the pillows.
“Mary?” Thomas called out and she giggled softly.
Thinking she was seeing about her needs, he would not come right away. She settled down into the blanket and let out a shaky sigh. A soft breeze blew across her heated face, fanning away any doubts about the man she loved.
“Thomas, can you please come here?”
His eyebrows shot up when he neared. “What are you doing?”
“Come closer,” Mary beckoned, feeling like a temptress. “For the first time since meeting, we have privacy. I want to steal a few moments with you.”
He lowered to the blankets without hesitation. “Of course, I understand.” He pressed a kiss to her lips and then promptly rolled onto his back, placed his hands beneath his head and stared up at the sky. “What should we talk about?”
Talking was not exactly what Mary had in mind. Since she was not practiced in the art of seduction, she wondered if perhaps she’d be able to go through with it.
“Thomas,” she began trailing a finger down the side of his face. “Talking is not at all what I had in mind.”
He lifted up to sit and looked toward the carriage. “Someone could come upon us. It would be...”
Grabbing his lapels, Mary yanked him down and took his mouth with hers. He responded, intensifying the kiss, his arms circling her and bringing her against his chest.
While his mouth traveled down the side of her neck and licked a path down the center of her breasts, he inched her skirts up, and slid his hands up her leg.
Immediately her senses went on high alert, the harshness of their breathing amplified and the scent of him filled her.
“Unbutton your bodice for me.” Thomas continued the delicious task of licking circles between her breasts, while his right hand mimicked the patterns on her thigh.
Thoughts evaporated as he took to her exposed breasts, suckling on one tip and then the other. Mary’s head fell back, and her eyes fluttered closed.
Lifting up, he met her gaze. “I want to make you mine Mary. I desire you so much.”
“And I you,” Mary replied, her voice breathless.
Once again, he pressed his lips to hers, using both hands to lift her skirts up past her waist. The exposure brought shivers of anticipation and heat pooled between her legs. Mary gasped when Thomas rose to his knees and spread her legs apart.
Thomas lowered, disappearing from her view, blocked by the bunched-up skirts.
When his mouth covered he sex, Mary let out a gasp. “What? ... ohhh.” His tongue delved down the center of her nether lips sending quivers of pleasure down her legs and up to her stomach.
When Thomas suckled the tiny nub between her legs, Mary shuddered in response. Never had she felt such sensations.
“Oh. Oh,” Mary repeated, her fingers digging into the blanket as waves of pleasure overtook. She lifted her hips up into his mouth, needing more, but at the same time, she feared what would happen. This experience was nothing like the awkward fumbles with her one lover. There had only been a quick joining until he found release.
With Thomas, it was so very different. Beautifully different.
“Ah!” Mary exclaimed when Thomas circled the nub with his tongue and then flicked it up and down, sending even harder jolts through her body. “I... can’t...remain...” Mary wasn’t sure what she wanted to say and left the sentence unfinished.
The intrusion of his finger into her sex, whilst his mouth continued its wonderful assault, broke every resolve, and Mary lost all control. Her body shuddered in a hard release as she let out a long moan. “Oh, Thomas...”
He came over her, his handsome face hovering with a crooked smile. “Are you sure you wish this to happen?”
“Yes,” Mary replied with conviction, not wishing to lose the euphoria of want and passion. “Hurry please.”
When his sex pressed against hers, she took Thomas’ face in her hands wanting to see every expression.
Thomas’ eyes fluttered close as he thrust his thick shaft fully into her. Mary gasped at the wonderful intrusion but forced herself to keep her eyes open.
Her love was absolutely beautiful as he began to move. Lips parted, a burrow between his brows and the tight cordons on his neck tense, he was a masterpiece.
Driving in and out of her, with their mouths joined and hands exploring each other, they fought to keep control. At the same time, while chasing the culmination that would bring a wonderful release.
Mary’s entire being seemed to explode, while Thomas continued driving in and out of her, his movements becoming more and more frantic. She’d given up on keeping her gaze on him, losing all focus as she floated into the air.
“Mary,” Thomas called out, his body shaking with his release just as he suddenly pulled out of her and spilled onto the blanket. “I love you,” he managed to say before collapsing over her.
It was a while before Thomas walked her back to the carriage. He kissed her soundly on the lips. “I will remain at the Humphries estate until I hear from you. Then I must come and speak to your father. We must marry soon.”
Mary blushed. “Have I been to brazen?”
To her delight, Thomas smiled brightly. “I would have it no other way. I wish you to be brazen, carefree and explore love in every single way with me.”
“Honestly darling, there was no need for your father to insist that you come see about me,” her mother insisted. “I am much better now.”
Mary gave her an indulgent look. “Can I then presume you are not happy to see my mother?”
Having to use a cane for balance, her mother hobbled to a chair in the parlor. “On the contrary, I am beyond delighted. Now that you’ve moved outside of London, I will treasure your visits.”
After being there a week, her mother left the bed and was now planning to entertain. She’d invited several ladies over for tea. “You are to be my surprise guest today. The ladies will be delighted.”
“And I to see them and answer all their questions about the Humphries sisters.”
The real reason for teas was to exchange news and to Mary it was always interesting to hear what happened in other households. Despite it being perhaps wicked of her, she did enjoy a bit of gossip.
Her father entered the parlor and immediately his face lit up at seeing her mother. There’s was a love match and a somewhat perplexing one. The austere Frederick Asher, an archeologist who visited Jamaica as part of an expedition falling for Amancia Brown, a young outgoing Jamaican woman.
Now with silver-streaked sideburns, dressed head to toe in dark colors, her father continued to be the picture of austerity. “My two beautiful women. It does my heart and soul good to see you.” He walked to them and placed a kiss first on his wife’s lips and then on Mary’s brow.
“I see there’s activity. Am I to presume there will be visitors?”
Her mother chuckled. “Yes, so go ahead and plan your hiding strategy dear.”
When her father walked away, probably to the kitchen to secure food and a beverage to assist in his seclusion in the study, her mother gave Mary a pointed look. “Who is the young man who has you blushing constantly?”
“I am not blushing mother,” Mary said but her face burned, so she knew it turned red.
Her mother lifted a brow. “You have never lied to me, do not start now.”
“I had planned to tell you about him. His name is Thomas, he is a coachman.” Mary braced for what was sure to be a negative reaction. Her mother, however, waited for her to continue with an unreadable expression.
“He is a good man, a hardworking man. Mr. Yarnsby and Vivian consider him of good character. I know he is but a coachman, but...” She blew out a breath. “Mother say something.”
Finally, her mother’s lips curved. “How does he treat you?”
Thoughts of what had occurred on the roadside made Mary sigh, but she could never tell her mother about it. “He is kind, respectful.”
“Has the young man declared his intentions?”
“He has asked to me to marry him” Mary met her mother’s eyes to see tears brimming. Her own stung with unshed tears. “I love him so mother.”
“Why did he not come here to speak to your father?”
Mary cleared her throat. “I told him to wait. He is at the Humphries home. Will come when I send word. Of course.”
“Then send word, make haste, we must meet him immediately.”
Her mother opened her arms and Mary fell against the warm familiar embrace. “I am so happy for you darling girl.”
“I am as well,” Mary replied with a sniff.
“Whatever is taking so long?” Mary asked as she paced the parlor and once again looked to the doorway. “Father and Thomas have been in his study for almost an hour.”
Her mother didn’t seem as fazed. As a matter of fact, she was much more interested in the tray of sweets, the maid had just placed on a small table in front of her. “They are probably talking of your father’s latest project. You know how he can go on.”
“They are away we are waiting.”
“Come sit,” her mother patted the seat next to her. “Let us discuss your wedding.”
Mary looked to the closed study door once again and crossed the room to where her mother sat. “I would like it to be at the Yarnsby’s estate.”
“What of your dress? Have you any particular styles in mind?”
Just then her father and Thomas, who looked a bit unsteady entered the room.
“Your father and I tasted his brandy collection,” Thomas explained, his face a bit flushed. “It is rather large.”
Her father chuckled. “An Irishman’s constitution may be more amenable to whisky, but you must admit, brandy has its merits.” Frederick Asher hesitated at seeing both Mary and his wife staring at him waiting for what he was to announce.
“Oh, yes well. Mary, I will allow the marriage between you and Mr. Sullivan.”
“Thank you father,” Mary jumped to her feet and rushed to her father. He accepted her hug and kissed her indulgently on the brow. “Now, now go on and visit. I must see about something.” She caught a shiny glance before he turned away.
“I will go with you dear,” her mother said accepting Thomas’ help to stand.
Once alone, Thomas pulled Mary against him. The steady beat of his heart against her ear was reassuring and she wished more than anything time would fly so that she could listen to it every single night.
“I love you,” he murmured.