Page 74 of The Good Fortune of Miss Robbins

“Thank you, Miss Robbins, for considering my proposal, and I shall wait as patiently as I can for your answer.”

Seeing his downturned face, looking as humble as I’d ever seen him—and I’d never seen him look humble before—made me feel all jumbled up inside and a bit weary.

Soon, the rain began to slow to a drizzle, and Mrs. Drake suggested we walk home before it could get any worse. Back at my townhouse, Mr. Merritt took his leave with a longing look, holding my gloved hand in his, then bent down and kissed it before turning and leaving out the front door.

As we took off our wet things in the cloakroom, Millicent cried, “He asked you to marry him, didn’t he? Oh, I just knew it! You shall be Mrs. Thomas Merritt! I am so happy for you, Charlotte. What a good match it is.”

Mrs. Drake looked dour indeed, and Hattie’s face registered alarm.

“I have not accepted his proposal,” I said.

“What? Why not?” Millicent said.

“Mr. Merritt is not in love with me.”

“Two perfectly good marriage proposals, and you’ve refused them both?” Mrs. Drake’s lip curled, and she looked away.

“I did not refuse Mr. Merritt. I told him I needed some time to think it over.” Besides, she should be happy if and when I refused them both, since I’d have no need of her the moment I was married.

“Hmph.” Mrs. Drake threw down her wet shawl and walked toward the staircase. “It is only fortunate for you that you...” Her voice became inaudible as she got farther away, but I knew exactly what she was saying.

Millicent and Hattie went with me up to my room, and we lay across my bed, each of us wrapped in a wool shawl as we waited for the tea I’d ordered.

“You should do what makes you happy,” Hattie was saying.

Would Mr. Merritt make me happy? I could easily imagine him as my husband, me attending parties on his arm, and the thought of being the wife of the vicar in charge of a church parish was actually a very happy thought. I’d always imagined such a role in life to be pleasant and desirable. I could spend my time being charitable to the poor of our parish, looking after the less fortunate, receiving the respect and well-wishes of our parishioners.

Lord Brookhaven’s face rose before me. What would he think of me marrying his friend? He knew Mr. Merritt better than I did. But the thought of asking Lord Brookhaven’s opinion made me cringe.

“He always did single you out when we were at Lowndesbury House,” Millicent said. “I thought he might be in love with you then.”

“But you know what he said to me, that I would ruin Lord Brookhaven if I married him.”

“You cannot hold that against him,” Millicent said, sitting up. “You were a governess then, with no money, and he was only trying to look out for his friend.”

And why had Mr. Merritt thought Lord Brookhaven was in love with me and on the brink of asking me to marry him? It obviously wasn’t true, and that hurt more than anything.

“But it doesn’t make me love Mr. Merritt, and it doesn’t give me confidence in his sentiments and claims that he’s in love with me. He certainly wasn’t in love with me then, so how can he love me now?”

“Love is not like that,” Millicent insisted. “Love comes after you’re married. That’s what my mother told me once. And I believe it would be true for you and Mr. Merritt.” No one said anything, then Millicent went on. “But you should do what you wish. I’m not trying to tell you to marry him if you think you wouldn’t be happy.”

“I’m not sure if I would or wouldn’t. That’s why I told him I needed time to consider.” I sighed.

I wanted love. I wanted it so much I was afraid I would marry someone because I could imagine myself happy with him, not because I truly was in love with him, and then later regret my decision. But then it would be too late and I would have lost my one chance at love.

Perhaps Millicent was right. One married and then love came. I believed it was true for some marriages. Others, as I’d heard, started out as love matches, but then when children and troubles arrived, the love died. I’d seen couples at church in Milford who never looked at each other, much less spoke to each other. I’d heard the stories of titled gentlemen and their wives living separately, taking lovers.

What if Mr. Merritt’s feelings took the opposite turn? What if I loved him—and I would, if I married him—but he stopped loving me? How could I bear that?

The next day, I went to call on Samuel and Annabelle, and I took Joshua and Sarah with me.

They looked quite nice in their new clothes I’d bought for them. In fact, one could not have told them apart from a wealthy family’s children except for the almost-imperceptible browbeaten look, a hesitant wariness.

Lord Brookhaven had already told the children to expect us, so when we arrived, Joshua and Sarah greeted Samuel and Annabelle as I had taught them. The children were very standoffish until Lord Brookhaven suggested we all go up to the playroom.

In the playroom, the boys began stacking wooden blocks and the girls each chose one of Annabelle’s dolls and began making beds for them out of blankets and pillows. Lord Brookhaven and I watched over them, with Hannah nearby. They played together surprisingly well.

Lord Brookhaven and I talked of Lady Derringer and her trips back and forth to her country estate, comparing our walks in the country and to the park in town, as I wondered what he would think of . . .