The Proposal (18 page)

“Where’s my shoe?” a sleepy Penny asked her brother on Sunday morning.

“I don’t know. I’m looking for my sock.”

Penny scowled at James but didn’t speak. Thomas caught the interchange and almost said something, but when Penny turned away he thought the matter was over.

He was wrong. Penny complained again a few minutes later, and James snapped at her. Their voices continued to rise, and moments later Jennings opened the door.

“Problems?” he asked mildly, taking in the disheveled room and cross children.

“Penny thinks I took her shoe,” James voiced in disgust. “I don’t know what I would do with it!”

Thomas was on the verge of telling him to hush, but Jennings beat him to it.

“That’s enough, James. Penny, where was the shoe you have on?”

“By my bed,” she said, managing to frown and speak at the same time.

“Did you look under the bed for the other one?”

Penny scowled in that direction but didn’t move.

Jennings, who had just happened to be walking by in the hallway when he heard the angry voices, went down on one knee next to the bed and found the shoe. James had discovered his sock by then, and after Penny’s shoe was in place, they looked almost ready to leave the room.

“I think we’ll try separate rooms tonight,” Jennings told them, his voice carrying enough authority that no one argued. “I believe Emma and Lizzy want you in with them, Penny, and that way the boys can have this room.”

The children all nodded.

“Are you ready to come to breakfast? We leave for church in an hour.”

“I need Judith for my hair,” Penny told him, impressing Jennings with the way she spoke up.

“I’ll send her to you,” Jennings said as he headed toward the door.

Thomas waited only until they were alone to let his siblings know how he felt.

“It would seem that Mr Jennings didn’t realize the two of you were in the wrong just now,” the oldest sibling stated, his voice low and upset. “Father would have waited for you to apologize for your treatment of each other. Well, Father’s not here, but that doesn’t change the fact that you need to tell each other that you are sorry.”

Penny and James looked at their brother and then at each other. The apologies—started by Penny—came a moment later.

“We shouldn’t have quarreled in front of him,” James said, his heart bothered by this.

“We can’t pretend to be perfect, James,” Thomas said, his mind already on this. “But quarreling like five-year-olds is not who we are, or at least it shouldn’t be.”

“Does Mr Jennings know about Jesus?” Penny asked.

“We’re not sure, Penny. I think we need to be thankful that we’re able to attend church while we’re here. If ever we don’t live with the Palmers, it’s hard to say if Mr Jennings will take us or not.”

“I want to stay here,” Penny said.

“We all do,” James put in just before Judith knocked and entered, hairbrush in hand.

Blackburn Manor

“To what was Pastor Hurst referring when he mentioned the book of beginnings this morning?” Jennings asked of Palmer and their host on Sunday afternoon.

The face of James Walker, Marianne’s father, was calm as he looked at the younger man. It was like watching and listening to himself at an earlier age. His heart knew keen compassion.

“He was talking about Genesis,” Walker answered. “The name means beginnings.”

“He said everything started there. What did he mean by that?”

“Just that, Jennings,” Palmer put in, not wanting the matter to be complicated. “The earth’s beginnings, man’s beginning, the first family—the list is endless.”

“The first family?”

“Yes. God gave Eve to Adam, and they became husband and wife. They were the first family. In fact, it’s significant for us to remember that it was the last thing He made during creation week.”

Jennings had to think on this. The things he was hearing and seeing at this church were different from anything he’d heard before. They were smashing all of his preconceived notions to pieces. It was almost more than he could take in.

“After church,” Jennings said as he recalled, “on the way over here, I heard Thomas and James talking about eternity. Do you actually believe that ones so young can understand such things?”

“Eternity is a large subject, Jennings; I’ll grant you that,” Walker replied, fielding the question. “But understanding it is not a requirement to knowing that God can and will save us from our sin.”

“And you believe those children sin?”

“The Bible says they’re slaves to sin. Once we’ve surrendered to God’s Son and He saves us, that’s no longer true, but man is a slave to sin prior to that moment. It sounds as though Thomas and James have accepted Christ, so their sin is covered by Christ’s death on the cross, but yes, I believe they were born sinners, and although forgiven, they’ll sin until the day they die.”

Jennings had to shake his head. Sin was not what little children did. Sins had been committed by Mrs Smith—that was obvious—but the Jennings children were not even capable of such things.

“Is there anything else I can tell you, Jennings?” Walker asked the man who now sat very quietly.

“I don’t think so. Thank you, sir.”

“Well, if ever you wish to discuss it some more, please come to see me.”

“When did you start to believe this?” Jennings asked.

“When Palmer and Lydia did. About seven years ago there was a small revival in our area, as God called many of us and we came to Christ.”

Jennings frowned.

“When we say, ‘came to Christ,’” Palmer added, “we’re talking about that moment when we agreed with God that we couldn’t save ourselves and believed on His Son to rescue us.”

Jennings nodded—that had been the question in his mind. He realized there was more he wished to know but found himself relieved when there was a knock on the door. It was Mrs Walker.

“Would you care to join us, Mr Walker? We’re headed to the patio for lemonade.”

“We’ll be there shortly, Mrs Walker. Thank you.”

The men talked a little more, and by the time they joined the ladies, the children had converged on the lemonade table. Penny was in Marianne’s lap, glass in hand, looking as though she’d been there all her life.

“It’s a warm day, Penny. Maybe Marianne would like to sit on her own.”

“She’s fine, Thomas, thank you,” Marianne replied.

Watching Marianne’s gentle way with Penny, Jennings was struck by how different the women at church had been from his female contacts in London. Just the day before he’d complained about a woman’s behavior to gain a man’s attention. He realized now that he’d seen no evidence of that type of deceit the two mornings he’d been to church.

“Mrs Walker?” Frank and Thomas had come to that lady’s chair. “May we go in and play pool?”

“Of course you may, Frank. You know the way.”

Frank and Thomas went toward the house, both remembering to say thanks for the lemonade. When Walt and James finished their glasses, they followed in their wake.

“It’s a good thing Mari’s not joining them,” Walker commented, drawing a look from his wife and a small smile from his daughter.

“Do you play pool, Miss Walker?” Jennings asked, his interest piqued.

“On occasion,” she said, smiling a little and wondering at her own embarrassment. Penny had climbed from her lap to play with Lizzy and Emma, and Marianne found herself wishing she had something to do with her hands.

“Come along, Mari,” Lydia said as she stood. “I’ll take you on in archery.”

“Put the dogs away!” Walker cried in teasing as the two women left in laughter.

They walked across the lawn side by side and were well away from the back patio when Lydia spoke.

“I think your father embarrassed you, Mari. Am I right?”

“I can’t think why, Liddy, but you are right,” the younger woman admitted. “I’ve played pool for years, and now suddenly I feel foolish.”

“I’m sure it was Jennings’ presence.”

Marianne sighed. “You’re probably right. We don’t know each other at all, and his face is not an easy one to read.”

“That’s certainly true.”

The ladies had arrived at the archery table. It was set up with everything they needed. They slipped protective covers onto their left forearms and fitted the fingers of their right hands with the small leather sheaths.

“You go ahead,” Marianne invited. “I have the advantage of being in my own yard.”

“Very sporting of you,” Lydia said with a smile, but did not decline.

By the third shot, Lydia was frowning, proclaiming that her game was off this day. She had often beat Marianne in the past, so Marianne had no choice but to agree with her. They had just started their second game when the gentlemen joined them. They sat by the table, some 30 feet to their side, to watch the show.

“You’re going to make us nervous,” Lydia said just as she let an arrow fly. It was a fine shot and stuck in the center circle.

“Come now, Liddy,” Jennings said to her. “We know what a fine shot you are.”

Lydia only sent him a look as Marianne let one fly. The arrow stuck hard in the bull’s-eye.

The men clapped and cheered so Lydia was able to speak for Marianne’s ears alone.

“I don’t know how you managed that when you’re shaking so hard.”

“Why am I so nervous around Jennings?”

“He just has that effect.”

“Let’s have teams!” Palmer suggested, and Marianne had all she could do not to groan.

“You’ll do fine,” Lydia whispered as the men approached.

Marianne waited only until Jennings was at her side.

“I’m not sure you’re getting the best partner, Mr Jennings.”

“I witnessed your last shot, Miss Walker. I’m not worried.”

Marianne was opening her mouth to repeat herself, but Jennings’ whisper cut her off.

“We’ll beat them.”

Marianne could have said plenty to that, but the game was already underway. Jennings shot true, but it had been a while since he’d played. Palmer hit two bull’s-eyes in a row, and that didn’t help, but by the last game the Palmers led by only one point.

“All right, Miss Walker,” Jennings said, growing more relaxed by the second. He had just bent to whisper in her ear, “Keep your shoulders relaxed on this one, and you’ll do just fine.”

Aware of his large presence behind her, Marianne nodded and raised the bow and arrow. She concentrated, telling herself it was all in fun and she should relax, but that didn’t work. One of her poorer shots left the bow, and the Palmers ended up winning by that one point.

“I hate losing,” Jennings said quietly, more to himself than anyone else, but Marianne heard it nevertheless. She didn’t know if she should apologize or just let the matter drop.

After the bows and arrows had been laid down, the girls were finally given permission by Mrs Walker to join the adults. Marianne suddenly had a little girl in her arms, but she still managed to take a peek at Mr Jennings’ face. She found it as unreadable as ever and still didn’t know if she should apologize for her archery performance or not.

As it was, when the Palmers and Jenningses left for Tipton a short time later, Marianne still did not have her answer.

About a week after spending the day with the Walkers, Jennings took a long ride on horseback. He was gone until almost noon, and when he arrived back, he and Palmer disappeared into Palmer’s study, where they stayed for a few hours. Not until after two o’clock did they send for Lydia, who joined them as soon as she was able.

“Come in, dear,” Palmer spoke when she poked her head in the door of his study. He didn’t speak again until he’d seen his wife to a comfortable chair.

“Do you want me to fill her in, Jennings, or will you?”

“Go ahead, please.”

Palmer looked back to his wife.

“Jennings wants all of the children to stay together this summer and possibly even into the fall when they go to school, so he’s looking for a house in this area.”

“Oh, how wonderful, Jennings. What have you found?”

“I looked at Thornton Hall this morning, and I think it suits us.”

“Thornton Hall? Is that up for let?”

“Only just. When I was in town on Saturday I inquired about it and made an appointment for this morning. It’s close enough that the children could ride over here with ease, but far enough away from town to give us our own space.”