there paralyzed both thought and movement. In front of Mrs. Martin, who sat on the sofa by the window, he saw Reverend Blackthorne down on one knee.
Chapter Thirteen
Disengaging her hand, Mrs. Martin backed away from the vicar—straight toward Beau. Recovering his frozen wits in an instant, he leaped aside to flatten himself against the staircase wall, knowing it imperative he remain hidden until he’d sorted out what to do about this extremely disagreeable development.
His first furious reaction—to stalk into the parlor, seize Reverend Blackthorne by his shirt collar and haul him bodily out of the cottage—he quickly discarded as impolitic, if eminently satisfying. His second thought was a throat-drying fear that in his self-absorbed concentration on maneuvering Mrs. Martin into the sort of relationship that would best satisfy his desires, he’d let this underestimated rival steal a perhaps insurmountable advantage over him.
If Blackthorne did in fact assuage Mrs. Martin’s distrust of men by offering marriage, and she accepted him, how was Beau to counter that? He might lose her before he’d barely had a chance to press his own claims.
Cold purpose focused him, let him shake his mind free of angry dismay. There had to be some way to stop this. Without a particle of remorse, he focused on overhearing as much as possible of the conversation.
“Please, Mr. Blackthorne, I beg you proceed no further,” said Mrs. Martin, distress in her cool voice.
That reassuring request was followed by the soft pad of Mrs. Martin’s footsteps, but in his current position Beau could not see where the occupants of the parlor now stood. Move away from him, he silently urged.
“Surely my feelings cannot come as a surprise,” Blackthorne said, a bit of reproach in his tone. “I’ve long held you in esteem, as our dealings with each other must have shown.”
“I felt you esteemed me as a member of the community who attempted to assist those in need, as I esteem you,” she replied. “Nothing more.”
“Perhaps I was not as … forthcoming as I should have been,” he conceded. “A man of my position must naturally be circumspect to avoid becoming fodder for the local gossips. But I regret that restraint, if it left you in ignorance of the steadily increasing warmth of my regard. So much that I must beg you let me continue!”
Beau heard heavier footfalls, and grimly concluded the reverend must have pursued Mrs. Martin. “Please, sir—”
“No, dear lady, you must allow me voice! Granted, had certain … events not transpired I should not have chosen to approach you in so precipitous a manner, but at this critical moment both personal desire and my duty as your spiritual advisor demand that I address you now.”
Beau heard Mrs. Martin’s ragged sigh. “Continue then, if you must.”
“I beg you will acquit me of conceit if I state what I see are the advantages to you of this match. At this moment I occupy a position which might appear to offer little worldly gain, but I have an income independent of this living and the ear of my father, who is, I assure you, a most influential man. My wife and children will want for nothing. For months I’ve been increasingly drawn by your modesty, excellence and nobility of character, a beauty of soul surely the equal of your lovely countenance. I think we could pursue a common purpose. While I cannot claim to be without flaws, I hope I bear no more than my human share. Should you do me the honor of becoming my wife, I should earnestly strive to make you happy.”
Though Beau could hardly have hoped the vicar would offer a lady of his parish carte blanche, still the formal proposal shook him to his boots. A widow in Mrs. Martin’s tenuous position, unless she held her suitor in absolute abhorrence, would be a fool to refuse such an offer.
Torn between dismay and hopeless anger, Beau waited in wretched silence for the inevitable acceptance.
“Mr. Blackthorne, please understand I am fully cognizant of the brilliance of your offer. A woman who occupies as humble a position as I could not help but be honored that a man of your birth and position would consider her for his wife, but—”
“You are a lady born, as any gentleman could see, quite worthy to be offered a man’s hand and name,” Blackthorne said with some heat.
“Thank you, sir. But flattering as it is, I—I must decline your proposal.”
Beau sagged back against the wall, shock and gladness weakening his knees. He could not imagine why she would reject so clearly advantageous an offer, but at this moment, having little doubt that Reverend Blackthorne would probably attempt to persuade her otherwise, he focused all his thoughts on willing her to persist in refusing it.
“You … find me disagreeable?” Despite himself, Beau felt a grudging sympathy at the mingled pain and humility in the reverend’s voice.
“No, of course not. It’s just …” Beau heard her soft, quick step, as if she were pacing the room. “I … can only tell you that my … experiences with the wedded state were such that I cannot envision ever entering it again. Pray, do not press me further.”
So Ellie was right—her marriage had not been happy. Apparently the vicar had not been aware of it, for several moments of silence followed her declaration.
“My dear lady, I deeply regret any unhappiness you may have suffered,” he began again, apparently taken aback but undaunted. “Still, I vow that if you will but entrust your future to me, I will do all in my power—”
“Sir, I beg you say no more! My resolve on this matter is unshakable.”
“If you forbid me speak, I must honor that request, but you cannot silence me on a matter of even graver import. No, madam—” Beau heard the soft tones of her protesting voice under the vicar’s more strident ones “—this must be said. It has not escaped me that recently you have become the object of interest to … a man of great position. Indeed, he has singled you out to a degree that has already begun to cause speculation in the neighborhood. I must warn you that I seriously question this nobleman’s intentions toward you.”
“Indeed, sir, I am sure you are mistaken!” Mrs. Martin’s gratifying prompt response mitigated Beau’s immediate desire to spring from his hiding place and plant the disparaging reverend a facer. “I am much too far beneath that person’s notice,” she continued, “for him to have any designs upon my person whatever. I agree that both he and his sister have singled me out to an extraordinary degree, but that is only because of the service I’ve rendered their kinsman.”
“Dear Mrs. Martin, it does honor to the purity of your character that you view Lord Beaulieu’s actions in that light, but in this you must bow to my superior knowledge of the world. I have closely observed the manner in which his lordship looks at and treats you. I wasn’t called to the church until after I’d been some years on the town, and speaking as a fellow aristocrat who knows how such men’s minds work, I assure you in the strongest possible terms that you do indeed stand in danger.”
Another fraught silence followed that impassioned speech. Hands itching for the feel of the vicar’s throat under his thumbs, once again Beau had to exercise supreme discipline to keep from bursting into the room. Damn the man’s effrontery in so viciously maligning Beau’s interest in Mrs. Martin! As if he desired only some hasty, meaningless backstairs
