Read Online Emma Barry by Brave in Heart - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Brave in Heart
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patience for these games. “Mrs. Ward, I know you don’t approve of me.” The ensuing silence was reply enough, Mrs. Ward apparently felt.
Margaret continued, “I assure you, however, I care for your son. I will make him a good wife.”
Mrs. Ward cocked her head to look out the window on the small, well-kept garden. Without returning her eyes to Margaret she said, “You may call me Sarah, if you like.” There was another beat while they both regarded vegetables and flowers through the window and allowed this shift to digest.
“I’m wary of you,” Mrs. Ward — Sarah — said when her daughter-in-law did not speak. Margaret was unsurprised and appreciated the candor.
Theo’s mother continued, “He was in a very bad way after your engagement ended. For months he walked around like a ghost of his former self. Even once he returned to the land of the living, he was changed. I blamed you. I’d like to believe this time will be different, and you will prove a good wife. I want to see him happy.”
It was painful for Margaret to hear about that period in her husband’s life. She wondered if it might help her relationship with her mother-in-law to tell her she too had spent months in a daze. That the end of their engagement had nearly broken her. But she didn’t yet trust Sarah enough to be so vulnerable.
Instead, Margaret answered her question, “As do I.” Even as she said the words, she realized how true they were.
“You spoke of caring for Theodore, but not loving him.” Margaret was unsure how to reply. The truth would hardly help her cause.
After a pointed tip of her head, Sarah offered commentary. “He loves you. Well nigh drunk with it, he is. Guard his heart, for he has given it to you.”
In this at least, Margaret could be firm. “I would
never
hurt your son.”
The older woman shook her head. “That remains to be seen.” Margaret had the distinct impression she had been dismissed.
“Shall I show you the house?”
They rose together and proceeded on a tour. The Ward residence seemed to go on and on: the breakfast room, the sitting room, the parlor, the dining room, the large foyer … Could one family possibly use all this space? How was it all to be cleaned? Maybe she and Sarah could lose one another during the day rather than resolving their mutual distrust?
Upstairs, every door opened onto another bedroom. Six in all! Margaret blushed deeply when Sarah opened the door to the room she would share with Theo. Helpfully, the older woman did not offer any further commentary other than to say, “The master suite.” Even in that title, however, Sarah made herself clear: this was Theo’s room. He might share it with Margaret, but she had no real place here.
“I have never kept a house,” Margaret confessed when they returned to the breakfast room. “I’m nervous.”
“You’re up to the task, I’m sure,” Sarah replied. Her voice was so dry it nearly cracked.
Before she could formulate a reply to this latest barb, Theo interrupted. He entered the room beaming with absolutely no self-consciousness. Margaret’s heart constricted.
“Well, Mother, have you shown my wife our humble abode?” he called, his lanky arm slipping about the older woman’s waist and giving her a squeeze.
“Everything but the yard.”
“I will rectify that oversight. Margaret, get your bonnet.”
Once they were outside, he swept her into an embrace. She wriggled her arms onto his chest and put some space between them. “Theo, control yourself.”
“No. In the street before my office, yes, but not in my own home. Not when I have only three weeks left with you.”
He intended to be at this a while, she could tell. He claimed her mouth firmly, and his ardor melted her protestations. He was an impossible man, but whatever objections she had had could not be located in his arms. Did she really have less than a month with him?
Once she was good and committed to the endeavor, he wove his fingers in her
Margaret continued, “I assure you, however, I care for your son. I will make him a good wife.”
Mrs. Ward cocked her head to look out the window on the small, well-kept garden. Without returning her eyes to Margaret she said, “You may call me Sarah, if you like.” There was another beat while they both regarded vegetables and flowers through the window and allowed this shift to digest.
“I’m wary of you,” Mrs. Ward — Sarah — said when her daughter-in-law did not speak. Margaret was unsurprised and appreciated the candor.
Theo’s mother continued, “He was in a very bad way after your engagement ended. For months he walked around like a ghost of his former self. Even once he returned to the land of the living, he was changed. I blamed you. I’d like to believe this time will be different, and you will prove a good wife. I want to see him happy.”
It was painful for Margaret to hear about that period in her husband’s life. She wondered if it might help her relationship with her mother-in-law to tell her she too had spent months in a daze. That the end of their engagement had nearly broken her. But she didn’t yet trust Sarah enough to be so vulnerable.
Instead, Margaret answered her question, “As do I.” Even as she said the words, she realized how true they were.
“You spoke of caring for Theodore, but not loving him.” Margaret was unsure how to reply. The truth would hardly help her cause.
After a pointed tip of her head, Sarah offered commentary. “He loves you. Well nigh drunk with it, he is. Guard his heart, for he has given it to you.”
In this at least, Margaret could be firm. “I would
never
hurt your son.”
The older woman shook her head. “That remains to be seen.” Margaret had the distinct impression she had been dismissed.
“Shall I show you the house?”
They rose together and proceeded on a tour. The Ward residence seemed to go on and on: the breakfast room, the sitting room, the parlor, the dining room, the large foyer … Could one family possibly use all this space? How was it all to be cleaned? Maybe she and Sarah could lose one another during the day rather than resolving their mutual distrust?
Upstairs, every door opened onto another bedroom. Six in all! Margaret blushed deeply when Sarah opened the door to the room she would share with Theo. Helpfully, the older woman did not offer any further commentary other than to say, “The master suite.” Even in that title, however, Sarah made herself clear: this was Theo’s room. He might share it with Margaret, but she had no real place here.
“I have never kept a house,” Margaret confessed when they returned to the breakfast room. “I’m nervous.”
“You’re up to the task, I’m sure,” Sarah replied. Her voice was so dry it nearly cracked.
Before she could formulate a reply to this latest barb, Theo interrupted. He entered the room beaming with absolutely no self-consciousness. Margaret’s heart constricted.
“Well, Mother, have you shown my wife our humble abode?” he called, his lanky arm slipping about the older woman’s waist and giving her a squeeze.
“Everything but the yard.”
“I will rectify that oversight. Margaret, get your bonnet.”
Once they were outside, he swept her into an embrace. She wriggled her arms onto his chest and put some space between them. “Theo, control yourself.”
“No. In the street before my office, yes, but not in my own home. Not when I have only three weeks left with you.”
He intended to be at this a while, she could tell. He claimed her mouth firmly, and his ardor melted her protestations. He was an impossible man, but whatever objections she had had could not be located in his arms. Did she really have less than a month with him?
Once she was good and committed to the endeavor, he wove his fingers in her
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