Page 30 of The Widower Without a Will
“Aren’t you supposed to be retired from such concerns?I hope you haven’t been spending your days reading old estate reports.Surely there must be something more interesting to occupy your thoughts.”
“Oh, I don’t need to read an estate report to know exactly what is going on.The wheat is drying too slowly because of the cold; the women’s dormitory is full to capacity; and Jarvoise is still complaining that you haven’t given him enough budget to properly care for the azaleas.”
Martin admitted to each guess being true.
“And—” Maulvi continued, “you have put poor Mrs.Bellamy to work because you cannot bring yourself to hire a steward to replace me.”
The room suddenly felt too hot.“Shewantedthe work.She said she would be at loose ends without something to occupy her.”
“Are you now a man with a secretary, then?Have you hired the widow on a permanent basis?”
Martin could not look his friend in the eye.“No, she is only helping until she hears from her niece.”
He had been spending an inordinate amount of time considering the errant letter from the niece, name unknown.When it arrived, would Mrs.Bellamy pack her things and leave within the day?What if her niece said there was only room for her to sleep on a pallet in the room with the children, like a nursemaid?Could Mrs.Bellamy hope to be happy as a hanger-on to a family member who she hadn’t seen for over a decade?
Of course, she must be.It was the proper and natural course of action for a person to spend their last years with their remaining family.As much as he and Mrs.Bellamy enjoyed each other’s company now—and he was aware that even in his own thoughts, he avoided naming the fire that erupted between their bodies—she could not be happy living for long in his shadow at Northfield Hall.She deserved to be in a home where she had a proper place, and where she never had to question how long she was welcome.
Maulvi peered at Martin as the Widow Croft served them each a cup of chamomile-and-ginger tisane.When she had bustled back into the kitchen, Maulvi asked, “I don’t know Mrs.Bellamy well.What is she like?”
Martin made a meal out of sipping his drink so he could think of a proper answer.“She is made of strong stuff.No matter what circumstance she is presented with, she will find a way to tolerate it.”
“Is she in deep grief over the loss of her husband?”
His tisane spilled onto his knee.Martin jerked up at the shock of hot liquid.Cursing, he did his best to clean it up with his handkerchief.
Maulvi waited for the commotion to end before prompting, “You were going to tell me more about Mrs.Bellamy.”
Martin should change the subject.Maulvi knew him too well, and Martin was too full of thoughts about Mrs.Bellamy to keep them secret.
Thoughts—and feelings.
“What is there to tell?I do not know how she feels about her late husband.She is intelligent, well informed, kind, discerning.Her handwriting is elegant.What else could there be to say?”
“Is she good company?”
Martin forced himself to behave like a normal, civilized human being.“Yes.”
Maulvi watched him, and he watched Maulvi, and Martin found himself admitting:
“She has seduced me.”
To his credit, Maulvi did not guffaw, though his eyebrows did jump to the top of his brow.“Shehas seducedyou?”
“Well, I didn’t intend to act on my…inclinations, if you see what I mean, but she persuaded me it would not hurt either of us.”
“And?”
And Martin wasn’t sure if it was true that neither of them would be hurt.When he was in the same room as Mrs.Bellamy, he was intoxicated by her, but when apart from her, he filled with a sense of foreboding.
They did not belong together.Their time together would end.And when it did, how could that ending be anything but hurtful?
“Has it only happened the one time?”Maulvi asked.
Martin felt his cheeks flame with shame.Itshouldhave been limited to the one time, shouldn’t it?He had indulged himself and Mrs.Bellamy, and when he had returned to his senses, he should have resolved not to let it happen again.
“Then perhaps she has done more than seduce you,” Maulvi said into Martin’s silence.“Have you fallen in love?”
At this, Martin could honestly scoff.“It has been hardly a month, Maulvi.I find her interesting and pleasing and…”Intoxicating, but he would not say that aloud.“Yet I hardly know her well enough to consider myself in love with her.”
