With Love, Louisa by Ashtyn Newbold

Chapter 11

Louisa didn’t know whether to laugh or gasp. The latter would show her surprise, but the former would show how completely ridiculous she thought Mr. Warwick was to even suggest such a thing. The resulting sound was something of a snort. “Marry?” Louisa choked. She studied his face. He was quite serious.

Even as she repeated the word marry back to him, his face went white. “It was the honorable thing to extend the offer to you. If your situation is as desperate as you make it appear, then you will accept without question. You were at my family’s estate today. I am still heir to it, whether my father likes that fact or not.” Mr. Warwick met her gaze again. “I offer you a home. A fine one. In truth, my family would be quite pleased if I married. I might not be so despised if I had a wife.”

Louisa’s heart raced. This was not how she had imagined a man might propose to her one day. Not in the slightest. She glared at the floor of the carriage, unwilling to look at his face.

Mr. Warwick spoke again, his voice tentative. “Unless…I suppose…the one who despises me is my wife.”

“I will never be your wife,” Louisa said in a resolute voice. Her pulse rushed past her ears. “I-I thank you for your offer, but I must—”

“Consider it.” Mr. Warwick raised both eyebrows. “You must consider it longer than a few seconds. This is a very important decision, and you must not be hasty either way.” He pressed his lips together, his blue eyes boring into hers. “Although I was quite hasty in extending the offer, I promise I will not retract it.”

How could she possibly agree to spend her life with a man who was so…so…

What was Mr. Warwick exactly? Infuriating. Ridiculous. Hated by his family for reasons she didn’t know and couldn’t possibly uncover before giving him her answer. He drank far too much. He gambled. He was handsome, she would give him that, even despite his crooked nose. As she stared at his stoic face, she realized she hardly knew him at all.

And the way he had said it…I am offering to marry you. It made her heart sting with protest.

Louisa had always dreamed that a man would want her to marry him. He would ask her to marry him—and he would be willing to beg if he had to, but of course he wouldn’t have to because she would love him just as ardently as he loved her. Her heart pinched again as sorrow flooded it. Were her romantic fancies simply another dream she would have to bury?

She had been silent for far too long. Mr. Warwick opened the carriage door, stepping down before turning to face her again. “Take as much time as you wish.” His throat bobbed with a swallow, and he rubbed one side of his face. He seemed just as surprised by the proposal as she was. He stared at her from his place beyond the carriage doorway, his eyes searching her face. What was he looking for?

When he finally looked away, she could breathe normally again.

“Was my family kind to you?” he asked suddenly, speaking more to the ground than to her.

Louisa nodded before realizing he couldn’t see it. “Your mother and sister were very kind indeed.”

“And my father?” The words were blunt.

“I didn’t meet him.”

Mr. Warwick looked up. “I see.” He was silent for a long moment before his face lit up with realization. “Oh, I nearly forgot.” He walked to his horse, and when he turned around, he was holding a small basket. He handed it to Louisa through the door. “I daresay this will put you in an agreeable mood.” His lips curled into a smile before he closed the carriage door, leaning closer to the window. “I will leave you to be on your way. I should hate to stop you, as my coachman has informed me of the consequence should I try.”

Louisa’s face grew hot, and she scowled at him as he backed away from the carriage, chuckling.

The coach began rolling forward again, and Louisa closed the window, cutting off the sound of Jack Warwick’s chuckling. How could he laugh at a time like this? Louisa’s stomach felt like one great knot, her lungs tight and almost incapable of expanding. She looked down at the basket Mr. Warwick had handed her. With two fingers, she carefully pinched the cloth and removed it.

Bread, cheese, ham, and various dried and fresh fruits filled the inside of the basket. She glanced out the back window, watching Mr. Warwick’s back as he rode away. Without warning, he turned his head back, catching her watching him. A sly smile pulled on his lips again.

She whirled around, brushing her hair from her eyes with a huffed breath. The tassels hanging from the carriage interior swung as the coach picked up speed. She looked down at the food again.

That was awfully kind of him, even if it was overdue.

She shook her head hard. A basket of food couldn’t erase all the harm he had done. If marriage was the only path for her to take now, could she not meet a few other eligible men in town before deciding to accept Mr. Warwick’s proposal? She laughed under her breath. It would do little good now that the rumors were spreading. At any rate, she had no money to entice a man to marry her so quickly.

Mr. Warwick’s proposal could very well be the only one she would ever receive.

Just a year ago she and her sister Alice had been willing to marry almost anyone to secure a future for themselves, but after seeing Alice and then Bridget marry for love, Louisa had set her aspirations too high. Mr. Warwick was generous in his offer. It was honorable of him to even make one at all. Louisa and Margaret had assumed he would only ever marry a bottle of brandy.

Louisa put her face in her hands. How had so much changed in one day?

Mr. Warwick was right, as much as she hated to admit it. She could not make this decision rashly. Perhaps Margaret would talk her out of it.

If she didn’t, Matthew surely would.

“It will only hurt for a moment,” a gruff voice said from above Jack’s head. Jack held his breath as the physician pinched his nose between his hands. “One…two…three.”

Pain shot through Jack’s entire skull, tears springing to his eyes. He let out a deep grunt, rolling to one side. The physician continued pressing on the side of Jack’s nose, forcing it back into place.

“There. Your nose should heal in the proper position now, although it had already begun to mend itself in the wrong one, so it may heal with a slight tilt.” The physician seemed unaffected by Jack’s reaction to his procedure.

Jack sat up straighter, taking several deep breaths. He ought to have thanked the man, but at the moment, he didn’t feel much gratitude. At least his nose wouldn’t be quite as crooked as it had been earlier that day. He checked his reflection on the silver tray on the tea table. It was only slightly better. He held a handkerchief to his nostrils as they began bleeding again.

Once the physician was gone, Jack sat alone in his drawing room, listening to the clock ticking. Without a housekeeper, his house would soon be in complete disarray. The servants that remained went about their business, but they needed to be guided, and there certainly needed to be more of them. The best course of action would be to hire a steward so he did not have to manage any of it.

He took a deep breath, surprised by his sudden determination to get the house in order.

Perhaps it was because he might soon have a wife.

He stared at all the empty seats of the drawing room, tapping his foot on the rug. He had been very generous offering to marry Miss Rosemeyer. Very generous, indeed. He hadn’t done it for selfish reasons.

Had he?

It was true that his family would respect him more if he were married. Society would as well, even if their good opinion seemed so far out of reach. And he could not deny that Miss Rosemeyer was different than other women he had met in his life. She intrigued him. She made him smile.

He chuckled to himself. On the contrary, he made her scowl.

But what a charming scowl it was.

Jack was likely out of his mind for extending an offer of marriage to her, but it had felt like the right thing to do. The guilt he felt over being the cause of her current circumstances was reminiscent of the guilt he had felt for the last five years. There was nothing worse than guilt, shame, or regret. In the moment, the only thing he could think of to alleviate his guilt was offering to marry her.

At any rate, he doubted she would accept his offer.

All he could do was wait and try to get the house in order perchance she did. Summoning his strength, Jack stood, walking out the drawing room door. He was surprised to find his butler standing at the open door, inviting a visitor inside.

Jack stopped, striding toward them. The man standing beside his butler was tall, with dark hair and a rather severe expression. Young, likely around the age of thirty. Completely unfamiliar.

“Good day,” Jack’s voice echoed, startling the butler, but not the man beside him. The strange visitor turned his gaze to Jack, a scowl forming on his brow. Jack stopped a few paces away. “Have we met?”

The man shook his head, eyeing Jack with misgiving before his deep voice said, “No, I don’t believe so. Are you a relative of Mrs. Irwin’s? I’m here to see my friend Miss Rosemeyer.”

Jack let out a heavy exhale. “I’m afraid there has been a mistake,” Jack said. “My name is Jack Warwick. And you are?”

“Matthew Northcott.”

Ah. So this must have been the Matthew that Miss Rosemeyer had mentioned. He didn’t give any further explanation, so Jack continued. “I am no relative of Mrs. Irwin’s, but I am the new tenant of this house.”

Mr. Northcott’s eyes flashed with worry. “Louisa isn’t here?”

Jack studied the man. Why was he using Miss Rosemeyer’s Christian name? They must have been very dear friends indeed. “Before I continue, may I ask your relation to Miss Rosemeyer?” Jack inquired.

“I am the only guardian she has at the moment, though it is not legal. She was the companion of my sister, a friend to our family.”

“I see.” Jack could easily see how Miss Rosemeyer continuing to live with Mr. Northcott could be viewed as scandalous. It was no wonder she had been coming to try to live with her aunt instead. “Miss Rosemeyer is not here. She left this morning.”

Mr. Northcott froze. “This morning? Did she not recognize the mistake of the wrong address yesterday?”

Jack really didn’t enjoy the thought of having a fist thrown at his face again, so he would choose how he relayed the story carefully. “I was not home yesterday evening when Miss Rosemeyer arrived. My housekeeper mistook her for the new maid. When I returned home, Miss Rosemeyer was frightened and hid in my wardrobe. I found her there by accident.” Jack paused, debating about including various other details. “And, well, considering the hour and the—er—situation, my housekeeper was, well, upset, when she saw us and so she quit her position and returned to work for Mrs. Irwin. She has already begun spreading false rumors about what she witnessed yesterday, and Mrs. Irwin refuses to take Miss Rosemeyer in now.” Jack drew a heavy breath, rubbing one side of his face. “I am concerned for Miss Rosemeyer’s reputation.”

Mr. Northcott stared at him, his jaw tight. He was silent for a long moment. “Why are you letting this property?”

Jack frowned. That was a bit off the subject at hand. “I sought distance from my family until it comes time for me to inherit. My father and I have had our disagreements, and that is why I moved away.”

“You are heir to an estate?”

“Yes.”

“Is it thriving? Is income high?”

“Yes, indeed.” Jack raised one eyebrow, surprised by the authority the man exuded with his personal questions.

Mr. Northcott stared at Jack again, his eyes boring into his soul, it seemed. Jack shifted uncomfortably.

“I know a broken nose when I see one. How did that happen?”

Jack felt as though he were being interviewed for an inquest all over again. “I was at a party yesterday before coming home. A man there said something I did not like, and so I showed him just how I felt about what he said.” Jack cleared his throat. “His face did look worse than mine.”

A slight smile passed through Mr. Northcott’s facade. “Ah, well I cannot fault you for that. I have been in similar situations myself.”

“There are times when a man simply needs a facer. He was begging me for it.”

Mr. Northcott laughed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I am glad you obliged him.”

Jack chuckled. “As am I, even if I have this as a result.” He gestured at his nose.

Mr. Northcott laughed, but soon his smile faded as he sat up straighter, back to the business at hand. “I assume you are not yet well-acquainted with Miss Rosemeyer, but I assure you, she is a most amiable young woman. She does not deserve the hand fate has dealt her. She needs a place to live without the risk of scandal. She needs someone to look after her, and I prefer that it is a man of good humor and kindness and a reliable income. It has always been my stance that she should marry.”

It was obvious what Mr. Northcott was hinting at, so Jack stopped him. “I agree that marriage is the course she should pursue. That is why I have made her an offer.” Even as he said it, his stomach twisted. What the devil had come over him to make an offer of marriage to a woman he had known for one day? One day. He was a lunatic, that much was certain.

Mr. Northcott’s eyebrows rose. “Already?”

“Yes, this afternoon.”

Mr. Northcott paused. “Did she accept?”

“Not yet.” Jack swallowed, rubbing one side of his face. “I may not have made the most favorable impression on her, so that has caused her to hesitate.”

“You are a good man to do the honorable thing,” Mr. Northcott said. “And Miss Louisa is a good young woman. You will have to work hard to deserve her, you know.”

A good man. Jack’s brow furrowed. He had never thought of himself as a good man, not since he had even been old enough to be called a man. He was the reason his uncle was dead, the reason his family was torn apart and ruined to society. How could someone like that be a good man?

“Miss Rosemeyer deserves better than someone like me,” Jack said, his voice quiet. “I should not have made an offer. I am a complete and utter disaster.” Jack didn’t know why he felt the need to tell Mr. Northcott that, but he couldn’t keep it inside any longer. “I have many faults. They far exceed my virtues.” He shook his head. “If you would rather, I will help you find a more suitable husband for Miss Rosemeyer.” Regret had begun pouring through his chest. He could barely take care of himself…how could he take care of Miss Rosemeyer? Why had he even wanted to try? He didn’t know the answers.

Mr. Northcott watched him with a somber expression before a slight smile pulled on the corners of his mouth. “I think you give yourself too little credit. It seems to me that you have a desire to become better. You recognize the areas in which you need to improve.” Mr. Northcott shrugged. “That is much more than many of us have done.”

There was one thing wrong with Mr. Northcott’s philosophy. Jack could not undo the past. His uncle’s death was a permanent dark stain on Jack, and like a droplet of ink when it touches clean parchment, it had spread. It had consumed him. How would Miss Rosemeyer feel if she knew what he had done? She already seemed terrified enough at the thought of marrying him.

“I know Louisa well,” Mr. Northcott said. “And I don’t think there is a more suitable husband for her, no matter how far we search.”

Jack looked down at the floor. How could Mr. Northcott have so much confidence in him? “It will not be easy to win Miss Rosemeyer’s good opinion. I daresay she does not like me very much.” Jack gave a half smile.

“I will speak with her,” Mr. Northcott said, “although she does not always take my advice. She is quiet, but I think she hides a fierce character behind it. In fact, when I first saw your face I wondered if it was Louisa who had broken your nose.”

Jack tipped his head back with a laugh. “She would have taken great pleasure in it.” He thought of how she had cleaned the blood from his face rather than running away the night before. She must have had a good heart to do such a thing.

Mr. Northcott continued chuckling as he turned toward the door. “Well, shall we go find Louisa? I have a suspicion as to where she might have gone.”

Jack’s stomach flipped. Why was he suddenly so nervous to see her? Why did it matter to him whether she accepted or rejected his proposal? Calming the turmoil inside his stomach, he gave a stiff nod and followed Mr. Northcott out the door.