“True.” Nathaniel sat back in his chair and rubbed his jaw. “What would you suggest?”
William’s stomach turned to granite. Was he in some terrible dream where moments from now he would awaken, covered in sweat and heaving breaths of gratitude that this conversation had been only in his mind?
“A girl must be courted.” Eliza turned to Thomas, a cant to her smile. “You and I did not officially court, but that was different.”
Thomas flicked his eyes to William, then to Nathaniel and back to Eliza. “’Tis obvious Nathaniel and I are unfit for planning such matters.”
Kitty stepped forward. “We could always begin by arranging meetings, and attending dances and other social events. If ’tis truly your intent to marry then there are proper ways to find women who would be more than willing to court.”
“Aye,” Thomas said. “Caroline Whitney is a staunch patriot and always attends Cooper’s gatherings.”
Nathaniel shook his head. “She is an excellent choice, but I feel we need to give William the respect of choice he needs in this matter.”
“I haven’t time to court.” William growled and leaned his head back, glaring and speaking the next words under his breath. “Why did I say I would consider this?”
Eliza moved closer to her husband, the four of them forming a semi-circle in front of the fire as if William weren’t in the room. “I fear we are taking too much upon ourselves.”
Thomas gestured to William but spoke to his wife. “He knows no ladies in town, and did we not promise to help him?” He exhaled and looked to Nathaniel. “Elizabeth Curling?”
Eliza shook her head. “She’s left for Georgia.”
“Katie Pickett?” Nathaniel said.
Both women refused with sharp eyes.
Shoots of nervous energy buzzed through William’s limbs, forcing his knee up and down so hard he feared the heel of his boot would pound a hole in the floor. More and more names drifted in the parlor air. His entire future rested upon whether they could concur on a complete stranger to suit him for the rest of his life. He shouldn’t allow it. He should stand and demand they put an end to this fruitless and embarrassing display.
Yet, he stayed quiet. Why? Only God knew. And if God would ever impart a portion of His wisdom, now would be a most welcome moment. William tried to work his jaw from its motionless position, to allow his voice to speak in his behalf, but it wouldn’t move. He closed his eyes and gripped the arms of the chair. Surely this foolish notion would dissolve soon enough and he could resume his journey in the morning.
“Martha Curry?” Thomas suggested, clearly determined to continue. “She’s just returned from Salem to live with her brother, and from what I hear she is quite lovely.”
“You mean you’ve never seen her?” William shot from the chair, his heated blood rising to his neck. “Though I know your idea is well meant, it is folly. For this new life I’ve undertaken to be believable, a marriage must be made quickly.” He raked his hand through his hair with a growl before moving around his seat and clutching the back of it. “What woman would accept a man she hardly knows?”
~~~
Alone in the kitchen, Anna struggled to close her ears to the conversation that ensued in the connecting room. Poor William. He needed to marry? Why? Having missed much of what the gentlemen had said previously—when Mrs. Watson had so kindly seen to her needs—Anna fumbled with the few facts she’d gleaned. Something dreadful must have happened to force him to such a decision. One he seemed none too keen to accept.
The voices stretching into her quiet kitchen sanctuary rose, edged with frustration. Name after name tossed upon the air, and every one refused. William’s irritation thickened like a seaside fog. She bit her lip and toyed with the ring at her neck. She knew that feeling—that sense of falling, dropping into an abyss, an empty dark future that you must accept despite the yearnings of your heart.
William’s voice carried above the rest. “What woman would accept a man she hardly knows?”
Anna looked to the door and answered silently. A woman would be a simpleton indeed to refuse the hand of someone so kind and generous. Never had she met a man with whom she felt so…safe.
Suddenly, a silent melody danced upon the air, like a song from an unseen angel chorus. He needs to marry someone…but whom? The answer hummed over her skin in delicate harmony. You.
She bolted upright. What in heaven’s name? Breathing long and deep, Anna tried to shake the thought from her mind but it refused to release its hold. A flurry of questions she’d forced from her mind started a quick and violent quarrel. What would happen to her now? They had made it this far, but where would she go tomorrow and the day after that? Father would stop at nothing until she was found and returned to him. William was the only person she knew, and strangely, the only person she trusted. He needed to start a new life, and so did she.
Perhaps…
Anna swiveled in her seat and glanced toward the parlor. Her pulse drummed wildly, and she pressed her palm against the ring that rested against her skin. What if she offered—
She laughed quietly to herself. Nay, she couldn’t. Silly notion.
Could she?
Anna stared at the orange glow from the kitchen fire. What about love? Had she not promised her mother she would only marry if her heart directed her? Though if she did offer, she would be the one choosing her future and no one else. Why am I even considering this? She blinked, but the action failed to dislodge the rooted thought.
Would William even accept her if she offered herself? How foolish she would feel if he refused her. Then again, should she not at least try? Sacrificing a marriage of love for one of safety seemed the best way to ensure her future in America—a future away from her father’s dominant hand. For now, though discovering the truth of Samuel’s death was ingrained in her spirit, ’twas paramount that her feet never again tread upon London soil. William was a good man. How she could be so sure of it, she didn’t know, but she was. She could be content living the rest of her life as his companion, if he would have her.