Page 81 of A Bride for the Baron

But was she happy?

“Good afternoon, ladies,” Edmund said as he entered the room, saving her from having to answer. “If I had known there were two lovely ladies here, I would have brought two flowers.” He held out the daffodil.

When Lillian took it, Vera’s heart cramped. It pounded harder when Lillian handed her the flower and said, “This is for you, I am sure.” She picked up her gloves, smiled at Edmund and left.

“It really was for you,” Edmund said as he walked to her. “I know how you love daffodils. It’ll be some time before you can replant your daffodils by a new vicarage.”

She forced her smile not to waver as he spoke easily of her leaving Meriweather Hall. What had she thought he would do? Draw her into his arms and profess his undying love?

Mrs. Uppington stormed into the room. She pointed an angry finger at her nephew. “Why are you here with the vicar’s sister when Miss Kightly is leaving?”

“We were having a pleasant conversation, Aunt Belinda,” he said as he turned to face her. “You are welcome to join us for a pleasant conversation. If you wish any other sort, I must ask you to excuse us.”

“You have made a complete muddle of this!” Aunt Belinda scowled.

“I have? I thought I had—with the help of my allies—done a very good job of ridding Sanctuary Bay of a band of reprehensible smugglers.”

His aunt leveled her trembling finger right at his nose. “Don’t give me back-answers, boy! You have made a higgledy-piggledy mess of everything! Letting Lillian Kightly slip away! The match would have been a grand coup for our family. Since her mother remarried and is now a viscountess, Miss Kightly’s worth as a potential wife has risen.”

“Her great-uncle—”

“Bah! And who cares about him? He has been one oar short for years. He will be sent away to where they keep addled people like him. By this time next year, when you and Miss Kightly could be happily married, he will be forgotten. If you know what is good for you, my boy, you will chase after her and ask her to marry you before someone else asks her.”

Vera hated the weak tears that seared her eyes. In a whisper, she said, “If you will excuse me...”

“Please stay,” Edmund said, taking her hand. He looked at his aunt. “First of all, Aunt Belinda, I am no longer your boy. I am a man, and I have the responsibility of overseeing Meriweather Hall.”

“I meant—”

He did not let her finish. “Second, I am not marrying Lillian Kightly. My reason for that has nothing to do with her great-uncle.”

“But Miss Kightly spent all that time flirting with you,” his aunt insisted. “She must have some affection for you, Edmund.”

“One thing I have learned in the past weeks is that I don’t have to settle for some. I can ask for more from the Lord and from myself.” His expression gentled as he looked at Vera. His warm smile touched her heart, setting it to dancing like starlight on the sea. “Would you remind my aunt of the verse from Proverbs that your brother shared with us on Mothering Sunday, Vera?”

“‘Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths,’” she said softly.

“And that is what I am doing,” Edmund said. “I am trusting God, and I am trying to walk the path He set out for me. That path does not include marrying Lillian. I cannot marry Lillian because I hope I will be marrying Vera, if she will have me.”

“Me?” The single word came out of her in a squeak.

At the same time, his aunt gasped. “Are you out of your mind, Edmund? You could marry a lady like Lillian Kightly. Why would you want to marry a vicar’s sister?” Her nose wrinkled in distaste. “She has no idea how a lady should act. She attacked a man with a lance.”

“To save your life, Aunt Belinda. How can you forget that?” His jaw tightened. “If she had not delayed Tresting long enough for us to get there, both you and Vera might be dead now.”

Mrs. Uppington opened her mouth, but, for once, no sound came out.

Edmund cupped Vera’s chin in his broad hand. “Tell me, Vera, that you will marry me.”

Gazing up into his eyes, she could read his eagerness to hear the answer he hoped for. The decision was totally hers, and she knew what the choice had to be. So softly she could hardly hear the words herself, she said, “No, I cannot marry you.”

She pulled her hand out of his, turning away so she did not have to see the shock and pain in his eyes, and ran from the room. She did not stop running until she reached the rose-covered arbor. She dropped to the ground and hid her face against her arms folded on the bench. Sobs racked her.

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