Page 80 of An Unholy Affair
She stood, her heart thumping. She’d never received a marriage proposal before, least of all by someone she’d never had the slightest romantic feelings for.
‘Yes?’
Be with me, God. She squared her shoulders. ‘I am afraid I cannot accept.’
His mouth dropped open. ‘Why on earth not?’
‘Because…’I don’t fancy you? We’re not in a relationship? You’re older than my dad?She fought to find words that wouldn’t wound but kept coming up short.
He sighed. ‘Eveline,dearEveline. You havesucha lot to learn about love. It’s not like those silly books you read. It’s about companionship, shared values, and friendship. Things the two of us have in spades. Marrying me is the sensible choice. Alan and Laura agree.’
Because it means they’ll get at least half a million quid each!
He moved towards her, and she stepped back. ‘I’m sorry, but my answer is no.’
His brow furrowed. ‘But… We’ve had an understanding.’
What? No! We haven’t!‘Simon, I deeply regret if, in any of my actions towards you, I’ve led—I have given you reason to believe we were anything more than colleagues and friends. I value you greatly, but have never viewed our relationship romantically.’
His chest puffed up. ‘Has someone else stolen your affections?’
Eveline’s mind snapped to Jack, flooding her cheeks with heat.
Simon’s eyes narrowed.
‘In order for my affections to have been “stolen”,’ she began, ‘they needed to exist in the first place. You’re myfriend. That’s all.’
An uncomfortable silence settled on the room.
He cleared his throat. ‘Very well. I’ll give you space to compose yourself and consider the many benefits our union would provide. I need not point out that your childbearing years are almost over. Nor that men your age are, for the most part, feckless and inconsistent…’
But you just did point those things out.
‘… I hope you pray on this matter and seek appropriate guidance from God.’
She nodded. ‘I should get back to the rectory.’
Simon stepped stiffly out of the way and Eveline went into the hall to get her coat.
As if punishing her unacceptable behaviour, he didn’t help her put it on or open the door, but stood, his arms glued to his sides as she left.
17
As Jack approached Foxbrooke Manor later that afternoon, he found Jane Austen and Louis XVI on the front steps. They were waving goodbye to a large group of people dressed in century-appropriate clothes.
‘It really has been most delightful to make your acquaintance,’ said the woman wearing a pale-yellow Regency dress. This was Henry’s girlfriend, Libby, who ran living history tours at the Manor. ‘Godspeed on your travels and I pray we will have the pleasure of your company again soon.’
‘Toodle-pip!’ the man called out, waving a frilly handkerchief. Underneath the layers of make-up, and a wig consisting of birds attacking a two-foot-high, hairy fruit basket, Jack recognised Arthur, the Duke of Somerset, who was also Henry, Estelle, and Connor’s father.
As the last of the tourists boarded their bus, Arthur strode forward and enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug.
‘Jack m’boy!’
Jack recognised the familiar scent of patchouli under the smells of face powder, rouge, and musty clothes. Arthur Foxbrooke was very different from his children.
Arthur pulled away, his hands still on Jack’s shoulders as he peered at him. ‘So glad to have you back. How are you holding up? I didn’t want to bother you at the funeral. Well done, though, for the eulogy. You here for Henry? Estelle? And have you met our Libby?’
Without waiting for an answer, he took Jack’s arm, propelling him towards her.
