Jonathan awoke with a thundering headache. He groaned and reached over to ring for some restorative tea, only to remember that he had dismissed the person whose duty it was to make it. Had Cora left already? Probably. He flopped back on his pillow and stared at the ceiling, wondering how a night that had begun with such promise could have ended so disastrously.
He could still see the angry set to her shoulders and the way her boots knifed through the snow as she strode away. He would have chased after her if not for the lesson he had learned from his father at a young age. His father had once lost his temper with his mother, and she had quit the room in a huff. Rather than run after her as Jonathan thought his father should, he'd sighed and taken a seat in a large, wingback chair.
"Jonathan," he had said, "if there is one thing I have learned about women, it's that an angry woman is not a reasonable woman. It will do no good to go after her now. Only time and a heartfelt apology has any hope of restoring reason."
The following day, when he saw his parents embracing, the lesson was sealed in Jonathan's mind as valuable. He thought of it now, hoping the words of wisdom rang true for all women and not just his mother.
With a wince, he rang for his valet. A few moments later, the too-thin man walked in and immediately parted the curtains, allowing bright light to billow into the room. Jonathan groaned and covered his eyes with his forearm. "Deuce take it, Drew, have some compassion!"
The curtains immediately closed and blessed darkness fell over Jonathan once more. "Forgive me sir," said Drew. "I had assumed you were ready to rise. Are you ill?"
"Yes," Jonathan moaned, tossing the pillow aside. "I have the devil of a headache. Would you be so kind as to send for some restorative tea?"
Drew shifted uncomfortably. "Er… I believe Mrs. Notley has taken her leave, sir."
"Good," he grumbled. "Her tea tastes like rainwater that has been collected in a tin can and left to bake in the sun for weeks. Please ask Sally to concoct something."
Drew's squinty eyes widened, but he quickly masked his surprise and executed a brief bow. "Very good, sir. I shall pass along the request straightaway. Will there be anything else? Would you like your breakfast tray sent up as well?"
"Only tea at the moment. Then I suppose I ought to dress. I need to call at Knotting Tree this morning."
"Very good, sir. I shall return shortly."
"Thank you, Drew."
His man left, the tea soon arrived, and Jonathan drank the entire cup in a few gulps. Although he had exaggerated the taste of Mrs. Notley's tea, Sally's version was certainly more pleasing to his palate. It also happened to be in the perfect state of warmness, unlike Mrs. Notley's, which never failed to scald his tongue.
When Drew returned again, Jonathan was feeling much more the thing. He allowed for his curtains to be pulled aside without argument, and once his eyes had adjusted to the light, he slowly rose from the bed with only a minor pounding in his head.
Drew helped him to shave and dress, and not thirty minutes later, after Sally informed him that his former housekeeper had indeed taken her leave, Jonathan called for his horse. As he navigated the icy lane and pulled his coat more tightly about him, he cursed himself for not arising earlier to see that his carriage had been made ready for Cora. He hated the thought of her making the journey on foot and prayed she would not fall ill because of his thoughtlessness.
Once he arrived at Knotting Tree, he handed his horse off to a stableboy, jogged up the steps, and pounded the brass knocker against the door. The stodgy Jeffries was slow to answer, and when he finally did, his eyes narrowed as he looked down his angular nose at Jonathan.
"I see you have come to call at an unnaturally early hour again, Mr. Ludlow."
"Forgive the intrusion, Jeffries," said Jonathan. "But I must speak to Miss Notley at once."
"She is taking her breakfast by the fire, sir. She arrived on our doorstep only moments ago, half frozen from the cold. Apparently she has given her coat and boots to one of your maids and ventured out this morning ill-equipped for the weather."
This time, Jonathan cursed Cora. What had she been thinking to give up her coat and boots? If she was so determined to leave them behind, surely she could have worn them here and sent them back later with another servant.
"Perhaps if you return at a more reasonable hour she will be feeling up to accepting callers." Jeffries began to close the door, but Jonathan's hand on the door stopped him.
"Jeffries, I am truly sorry for any discomfort I might have caused Miss Notley. I have behaved thoughtlessly and am here to make amends. I swear to you that I will only take a few minutes of her time."
Jeffries studied Jonathan for several moments before finally opening the door and allowing him entrance. "If you will wait here, sir, I will make inquiries within."
"Thank you."
The old man turned stiffly and began walking down the hall. Jonathan waited a few moments before divesting himself of his coat, gloves, and hat, then he discreetly followed the butler, leaving some distance between them so he would not be noticed. The butler stopped in front of two large wooden doors, pulled one open, and entered. Jonathan stepped behind the still-closed second door and strained to hear the conversation taking place in the room beyond.
"You may tell him that waiting is futile. I do not wish to see him." Cora's voice was firm and decisive.
Mrs. Shepherd spoke next. "Are you certain, my dear?"
"I've never been more certain of anything."
"Would you like me to have a word with him?" Mr. Shepherd asked.
"If that is your wish. It is of no consequence to me."
Jonathan frowned. Apparently the passage of time had not done its job in restoring reason. Or perhaps the chilly walk to Knotting Tree had served to unrestore it. Regardless, Jonathan still had an apology to make, and he refused to leave this house until Cora listened to what he had to say.
"You may tell Mr. Ludlow that I will see him in the drawing room," said Mr. Shepherd.
Before Jeffries could quit the room, Jonathan entered. His attention was immediately captured by the library's grandeur. Shelves of books surrounded him, rising from the floor to the top of the walls. One would need a very tall ladder to reach the highest of the shelves and yet some books were askew as though they had recently been read and returned in a haphazard manner. Jonathan had once thought his family's collection impressive, but it had nothing on Mr. Shepherd's. He had never seen so many books in his life.
"Sir, I asked that you wait in the great hall," said Jeffries.
Jonathan's gaze settled on Cora, who sat in a large chair by the fire with a heavy rug draped over her lap. She wore the same white muslin gown she had worn on the day they'd first met. Though her cheeks were ruddy from the cold and she didn't appear at all happy to see him, she looked to be unharmed.
"Ah, Mr. Ludlow. How good of you to announce yourself." Seated beside his wife on the sofa, Mr. Shepherd sounded far too congenial for the present circumstances. "I understand you have dismissed our dear Miss Notley yet again. How interesting. Have you come to sway her into returning as you did before? Is this going to become the thing to do with one's servants? If so, I am not certain I have the temperament for it."
"I have merely come to speak with Cora," said Jonathan, keeping his gaze locked on his former housekeeper.
Her eyes narrowed. "My name is Miss Notley to you, sir."
"I have merely come to speak with Miss Notley then."
Mrs. Shepherd set aside her needlepoint. When she looked at Jonathan, her expression was shrewd and cautious. He could only hope she did not intend to send him packing.
"Tell me, Mr. Ludlow," she said after a time. "Why should our dear Cora be asked to hear what you have to say?" She seemed to be offering him a chance, albeit a small one.
Jonathan considered the question, thinking back on everything that had transpired over the past few weeks. He finally settled on the only answer that had any hope of bringing Cora around. He looked pointedly at her. "A remarkable woman once told me that a person can have a good reason for behaving badly and one should always discover what that reason is before judging him or her too harshly."
Cora frowned and looked away, apparently not happy that he had used her own words as his argument. She stared across the room at a particular shelf of books for a long moment before dragging her gaze back to him. It seemed a struggle for her to say, "Very well, Mr. Ludlow. Let us hear what you have to say."
Jonathan glanced at Mr. and Mr. Shepherd, hoping they did not intend to remain for what was sure to be an awkward conversation. "Would you be so kind as to allow me a private word with Miss Notley?"
Mrs. Shepherd studied him a moment longer before turning to her husband. "I've just realized I need to speak to Cook about something. Will you be so kind as to accompany me?"
Mr. Shepherd cocked an eyebrow at Cora, who nodded her acquiescence, and, as they had before, the Shepherds rose to leave.
"I beg you not to make a habit of this," said Mr. Shepherd quietly as he passed.
"No, sir." Jonathan noticed they did not shut the door but paid it no mind. He strode over to Cora and sat down on the sofa near her. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and clasped his fingers under his chin. "I have never seen a library of this magnitude before," he remarked. "It is quite astonishing."
She lifted an eyebrow at him. "Did you come to speak to me about books, sir?"
"No." He sighed. She obviously had no intention of making this easy on him. Perhaps it would be best to get straight to the point. "I have come to beg your forgiveness for the unfeeling way I, er… approached you last evening."
She pulled the rug more tightly about her. "Unfeeling? Sir, your words went far beyond unfeeling and I cannot account for it. How can you profess to care for a woman and yet besmirch her character in the next moment?"
"I was not besmirching your character, Cora."
"It's Miss Notley, sir."
"Miss Notley then," he snapped. Before continuing, he forced himself to take a deep breath to calm his frustration. When he spoke again, his tone was much less aggravated. "Please understand that it was not my intention to cause offense. I was merely pointing out that despite what you choose to believe about yourself and your circumstances, you are far more suited to the role of lady than servant."
"There are better ways to make such a point than itemizing a person's flaws, sir. I cannot help but wonder how you can possibly have tender feelings for such an inept creature as I. What is there to like?"
Jonathan raked his fingers through his hair, wondering if he ought to have allowed a bit more time to pass before confronting her. She seemed determined to think the worst of herself and him.
"You may not believe this," he said. "But I think your 'flaws,' as you call them, are endearing. If only you could see yourself through my eyes, you would understand. There is an air of gentility about you that you cannot disguise no matter how much you may wish to do so. You comport yourself with confidence, grace, and integrity that, I assure you, does not go unnoticed by others. Please forgive me for saying this, but a servant should never be noticed, and you, my dear, are always noticed. You know how to behave in any given situation and have the unique ability to inspire respect and admiration from all who come to know you. Do you not see this? Who the devil cares if you cannot create a palatable pastry or don't have the heart to haggle for supplies? That does not matter in the least because that is not who you are. You are Miss Coralynn Notley, a beautiful, headstrong, and compassionate heiress. When I look at you, that is the person I see, and I can only be grateful that your father could not wrangle an introduction into society for your family. I am certain that if you had made your debut in London or anywhere else, men would have flocked about you in droves and I would never have stood a chance at winning your affections."
He paused, allowing his words to settle before adding, "Please say you'll forgive my fumbled attempts to explain myself last evening. I cannot imagine finding a more exquisite woman in all the world, and I refuse to lose you because I did not convey my feelings properly."
Cora stared at him, eyes wide, mouth slightly parted. Her hand moved over her heart as tears collected in her eyes. She quickly blinked them away before clearing her throat. "I liked that version much better, sir."
Jonathan relaxed, happy in the knowledge that he had not bungled things this go around. He slowly rose to his feet and held out his hand to her. "Will you not call me Jonathan?"
She nodded and placed her fingers on his, allowing him to pull her to her feet and into his arms. She tucked her hands behind his neck and lifted her face to his. "There is nothing to forgive any longer, Jonathan."
He smiled and wasted no time in kissing her. She tasted like strawberries and felt like heaven, and in that moment, Jonathan determined to never let her go again. This was how his life was meant to be lived.
It wasn't until someone cleared her throat behind him that Jonathan found it necessary to release Cora. They turned to find Mrs. Shepherd standing just inside the door, looking as though she did not know whether to congratulate or scold them.
"Am I to offer you my felicitations?" she asked.
Cora blushed profusely and began shaking her head, obviously mortified that they had been caught in such a compromising position, especially when Jonathan had not officially proposed.
He merely smiled and picked up Cora's hand, bending to place a kiss on it. When he rose again, he turned to Mrs. Shepherd. "Not yet. But soon, I hope. Good day to you, Mrs. Shepherd." He bowed and turned to Cora once more, and with a slight smile, added, "Cora."
Then he strode out of the room and back to the great hall, where he pulled on his hat, gloves, and greatcoat. He wished Jeffries a good day before emerging outside to a scene of slush and melting snow. The crisp air filled his lungs as he sauntered down the steps to his waiting horse. How wonderful it felt to be back in harmony with Cora.
Someday, he would have to thank his father for his sagacious advice.
The moment Mr. Ludlow left the room, Mrs. Shepherd rushed forward in a flurry of lavender muslin to clasp Cora's hands and give them a hearty squeeze. "My dear, you obviously withheld important information from Mr. Shepherd and me. Why did you not tell us that Mr. Ludlow has developed a tendré for you? Is that the true reason for your dismissal?"
"It is one of the reasons." Cora's heart still pounded from Mr. Ludlow's kiss and tender words. How invigorated he had made her feel, as though she could the run the entire length of a meadow without ever tiring even after a wretched night's sleep. Her spirits had never soared so high. It felt like they had been caught up in the clouds and would remain there always, brimming with too much elation to ever come down again.
She shook her head, unable to remove the smile from her lips. "I did not know until last night. He kissed me quite suddenly, claimed to be falling in love with me, and in the same breath informed me that I was the most dreadful of housekeepers. He went on to inventory several reasons as to why I could never hope to become proficient at the job and promptly dismissed me. One moment I was in raptures and the next angry and injured. I am loathe to admit that I stormed off like a spoiled child. I spent all of last night wondering if one or the both of us had gone mad, and by morning, I had arrived at the conclusion that a man such as Mr. Ludlow could never truly love me."
She turned her gaze on Mrs. Shepherd. "Happily, he has proven me wrong, and now I am all aflutter again. Honest to goodness, it feels as though I've been thrown from the fire to the snow and back to the fire again. All I can think is that I am too close to the flames and will likely suffer a burn."
Cora silently pled with Mrs. Shepherd for help in navigating these unchartered waters, but the woman did not seem at all concerned about Cora's distressed state. Rather, her smile widened and she grasped Cora's arms.
"Oh, my dear, that is a perfectly normal way to feel. Love is both thrilling and terrifying, is it not? But you have nothing to fear, I assure you. I have not seen a more besotted man since Lord Drayson looked upon my daughter. I could not be more happy for you."
Mrs. Shepherd's words warmed Cora's heart, but they did not placate her mind. She bit her lower lip and worried over it for a moment. "It is wonderful, but…"
"But what?"
Cora suddenly felt weary and laden with a weight that her legs could no longer support. How interesting that a smattering of doubts and concerns could have such a diminishing effect on one's euphoria. She sank down on the sofa and clasped her trembling fingers in her lap.
"Mr. Ludlow wishes for you and Mr. Shepherd to introduce me into society so that he might court me properly."
"That is understandable." Mrs. Shepherd sat beside Cora, eyeing her closely. "Is there something wrong, my dear? Do you not share his feelings?"
"Of course I do." That was the least of Cora's concerns, or perhaps the reason for them. She could not determine which.
"Pray do not say that you are still opposed to entering society," said Mrs. Shepherd. "Mr. Ludlow is in the right of it, I'm afraid. He cannot pay court to you while you are still his housekeeper."
"I realize that," said Cora. "It's only…" Oh, how to explain? Her feelings were so confused that words eluded her.
"You once told me," Mrs. Shepherd began carefully, "that you never wished to feel beholden to anyone ever again and sought your own way. But now a very different future lies before you. Do you feel as though you will be giving up your independence if you proceed? Is that the problem?"
Cora could safely say that no, it was not, but Mrs. Shepherd's words gave Cora pause, making her feel rather like a pretender. Only months before she had taken a firm stance on the importance of independence and now she found herself wavering most alarmingly. Or was it wavering? Oddly enough, Cora didn't feel as though pledging herself to Jonathan would require that sacrifice.
"I do not think that is it at all," answered Cora. "Mr. Ludlow respects me. He seeks for my opinions, listens to them, and tries to understand my feelings on various matters. Although I am far beneath him, he has never made me feel unworthy of his notice. Rather, he has made me feel like an equal or partner of sorts, though he found it necessary to remind me of my place many times." Cora smiled at the memories, thinking how they had learned to "manage" each other quite well. "So no, that is not the problem at all. I will happily be beholden to Mr. Ludlow all the rest of my days. He has captured my heart so completely, you see."
A gentle smile lifted Mrs. Shepherd's lips, but her expression remained confused. "Then what is it?"
Cora stifled a groan. If only she had listened to the Shepherds from the outset she would not be in this pickle. Yet here she sat, in a muddled pool of her own making.
"You said it yourself," said Cora. "If I went through with my obstinate notion to enter service, my reputation would suffer in the extreme. The fact of the matter is that I have been Mr. Ludlow's housekeeper for months now. I know how servants talk and how that talk inevitably spreads to polite circles. If people in town do not already know I took a position as a housekeeper, they will eventually learn the truth and discover precisely how far I have fallen. A shadow has been cast on my name and it cannot be undone. What is the likelihood I will be accepted by them now? And will not your good name be tainted by your association with me? I would never dream of injuring you, Mr. Shepherd, or Jonathan in any way."
Mrs. Shepherd released her breath as though relieved that Cora's concerns were not of a more serious nature. "You mustn't worry about that, my dear," she said with a pat on Cora's knee. "Oh, there will be gossip and snide looks, perhaps even a few cutting remarks, but as with all scandals, it will die down in time. Once Mr. Ludlow makes his intentions clear, which I assume will happen very soon, and people see that Mr. Shepherd and I stand behind you completely, all will be forgotten. The only snide looks you will receive will be from those who are green with envy that you have snared the most eligible bachelor in the vicinity. But that is of no consequence. Oh my dear, I cannot tell you how thrilled I am by this turn of events. It is everything I could have hoped for you."
Cora responded with a smile of her own, but she could not calm the disquiet in her heart. It did not seem probable that the situation would play out as seamlessly as Mrs. Shepherd seemed to think it would. Cora had seen firsthand how cruel and vindictive people could be. Every time her fumbling father had attempted to befriend or even approach an elite member of society, the encounter had ended in disaster and humiliation. When a person of influence chose to shun or think less of another, that influence carried a great deal of weight and even went so far as to alter another's opinion. In Cora's experience, there were very few Lady Harrietts or Mr. and Mrs. Shepherds in the world. She couldn't help but wonder at the likelihood of finding more in Askern.
When Mrs. Shepherd began discussing the need for new gowns and fripperies, Cora forced her thoughts back to the present and swallowed any arguments she had on the subject. Mrs. Shepherd radiated enthusiasm, and Cora would be ungrateful indeed if she did not allow the lady her fun.
And why shouldn't they enjoy a shopping excursion? Cora had somehow managed to capture Mr. Jonathan Ludlow's interest—a gentleman who was handsome, charming, kind, wonderful, and good. Was this not what she had always wanted? To have what Lady Drayson and Mrs. Shepherd had—a man at her side who loved her as much as she did him? Cora's future had never looked so glorious. She could one day be mistress of a large and beautiful home. What's more, she could be a mother. Only imagine little boys and girls running amok through the halls of Tanglewood and breathing additional life into the place. It sounded perfectly blissful.
Unfortunately, experience had taught Cora that hopes and dreams were not often realized. Life was filled with disappointments, and Cora had known her fair share of them. It was the reason her smile did not reach into her heart and her enthusiasm did not soar back into the clouds like she wished it would.