With Love, Louisa by Ashtyn Newbold

Chapter 12

“Marry?” Margaret nearly dropped the spoon she was using to stir the pot of stew. Her eyes rounded. “You cannot be serious. I thought we agreed he would only ever marry a bottle of brandy.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Louisa whispered. She hadn’t mentioned Mr. Warwick’s proposal to anyone but Margaret. “Do you think I should reject him?”

Margaret blew a puff of air up to the blonde hairs that stuck to her forehead. “I would say that depends entirely on your opinion of him.”

Louisa had told Margaret about the events of the evening before, but had left out some of the details. It was too embarrassing to relay, and speaking of it made her face grow hot with mortification. “I have hardly known him long enough to form an opinion,” Louisa said. “That is what terrifies me. All I know is that he is entirely too vexing. He enjoys making me uncomfortable.”

“That does not sound promising.” Margaret continued stirring the pot, pressing her lips together. “Hmm. I think you must decide if you would rather be married to someone you dislike, but live a life of comfort, or if you would rather live a life like mine.” She glanced up, meeting Louisa’s gaze. “A life of uncertainty.”

Louisa’s heart sank as that reality crashed over her. She did like Mr. Warwick’s mother and sister. But how far did their squabble with Mr. Warwick extend? If she were to marry him, would she no longer be their friend? Even if Cassandra and Mrs. Warwick were no longer kind to Louisa, it wouldn’t be so very bad living in Folkswich if Margaret and her family were nearby. Louisa would hardly have to see her husband if she didn’t wish to. And Haslington estate was beautiful. She had always dreamed of being the mistress of such a beautiful house. But Louisa’s heart was still bitter toward Mr. Warwick. He had stolen her opportunity to seek a love match. “Oh, Margaret.” Louisa let out a sigh. “Perhaps you and I should work in a household together. We might find handsome footmen to marry instead.”

Margaret laughed, the steam from the pot making her face pink. “I have a better idea. You marry Mr. Warwick, and I will work in your household. Since we are friends, you will provide me with the very best room and food and ensure only the most handsome of all the footmen are permitted to work in that house.”

Louisa’s laughter bubbled out, lightening the weight on her shoulders. “That may be the best idea yet. Although I still hope that you can find a position as a governess.” Louisa studied her friend’s slumping posture. “It would be more respectable. Then you might still marry a gentleman.”

Margaret gave a half smile. “I have long since given up any dreams of wealth or prestige. Lord Blackwell did his worst on my family.”

“Lord Blackwell?”

Margaret held a finger to her lips dramatically. “Do take care uttering that name around this house. It is as wicked as a curse word.”

“Oh.” Louisa clamped her mouth shut. “Who is he? What did he do?”

She and Margaret were close enough friends now that Margaret seemed comfortable confiding in her, especially since Louisa had just confided in her about Mr. Warwick’s proposal. Margaret shook her head with disgust. “Lord Blackwell is a viscount who occupies the grandest estate in Yorkshire. His father and my father were dear friends since childhood. My father’s entire income depended on his business relationship with Lord Blackwell’s father. But when Lord Blackwell’s father died, he cut my father off, leaving him and our family with nothing.” Margaret’s voice was heavy with bitterness. “That was when my family was forced to move here, and when I found my position at Larkhall.”

Louisa’s heart stung for her friend. “How cruel. Has he done nothing to improve your family’s situation?”

“Nothing at all.” Margaret’s jaw tightened. “The man is incapable of goodwill. He is greedy and selfish and proud.” With each word, she stirred the pot vigorously. She took a deep breath. “He would make Mr. Warwick look like a gentleman of the most agreeable sort.”

“How awful.” Louisa hadn’t known Margaret’s family’s situation had been caused by one man. By the way Margaret was stirring the pot with stiff motions, Louisa could see that she still harbored hatred for Lord Blackwell.

As though Margaret had read her thoughts, she looked up, meeting Louisa’s gaze. Oh, dear. Was Louisa not even allowed to think the name Lord Blackwell in that house?

“Mr. Warwick is quite disagreeable himself,” Margaret said after a moment of silence. “All I have heard about him has been negative. But I must question all I have heard now that he has offered for you. If he were truly disagreeable, he would not have done the honorable thing. He would have evaded all responsibility.”

“I suppose that is true.” Louisa swallowed. “But is it wise to marry a man who is known to be so disagreeable? His own reputation is not favorable at all.”

“That is true. But he has money. And there is no question that he is handsome. Those two things don’t often come together.” Margaret chuckled. “These are matters that you must consider.”

Louisa frowned, wringing her hands together. “But he is vexing! He drinks far too much. He is despised by his family and seems to be a man of many secrets.” She paused, watching Margaret’s smile. “You are supposed to be convincing me not to accept his proposal.”

Margaret laughed. “It seems you are convincing yourself already.”

“At least we can trust Matthew to caution me. He will surely advise me not to marry such a—” Louisa’s gaze caught on something beyond the nearby window. She squinted. “No.”

“What is it?” Margaret stepped away from her cooking. “Are my brothers misbehaving outside again?”

It couldn’t be. Two men, Matthew and Mr. Warwick, were walking toward the cottage. Together. Were they—were they…laughing? Louisa stepped closer to the glass, appalled at the way Matthew tipped his head back with what certainly appeared to be a boisterous laugh at something Mr. Warwick said. When her attention shifted back to Mr. Warwick, her gaze met his through the window. One of his eyebrows lifted, and the same side of his mouth rose in a smile, one far too flirtatious to be meant for Matthew. She ducked out of sight, brushing her hair back from her eyes. “Drat. He saw me.”

“And it appears he quite liked what he saw,” Margaret said.

Louisa tugged on Margaret’s sleeve, pulling her away from the window. “Why are they together? And why are they behaving as if they are…” she swallowed, “friends.”

Margaret shook her head, seemingly just as surprised as Louisa was. “I daresay I have never even seen Mr. Northcott smile so much.”

“Perhaps Mr. Warwick has been sharing some of his brandy.” Louisa smoothed her skirts, hurrying to push back the loose pieces of her hair. Just as she finished, a knock sounded at the door. Being such a small cottage, the door was only a few feet away from where Louisa stood. She jumped back.

Margaret walked toward the entrance. Her parents weren’t home and her brothers were all outside, so Louisa and Margaret were the only ones to receive these unexpected guests. Margaret chuckled as she glanced back at Louisa. “By your reaction it would seem there is a wild animal scratching at the door.”

“Some might venture to call him that,” Louisa muttered just before Margaret pulled the latch.

Louisa took a step back as the door swung open. She clasped her hands in front of her so tightly her fingers went numb. The two men walked inside, but Louisa only watched their boots. As she studied both sets of feet, she determined by the excessive shine of his boots that Matthew was the one on the right—the only one safe to look at. She glanced up, meeting his gaze, keeping it focused on him and not on Mr. Warwick, whose smirk she could see from the corner of her eye. How much did Matthew already know about the situation? Surely he couldn’t know everything, otherwise he would not be acting so friendly toward Mr. Warwick.

Matthew greeted Margaret before stepping closer to Louisa, a deep furrow of concern in his brow. Where he stood, he blocked Mr. Warwick from view, so Louisa could finally breathe. “How did you know I was here?” she asked in a quiet voice.

“It was a good guess.” Matthew gave a pained smile. “Mr. Warwick told me about the misunderstanding.”

That was a gentle way of putting it. Louisa preferred to call it a disaster. Before Matthew could continue, Mr. Warwick stepped up beside him. Louisa’s muscles tensed, her legs becoming stiffer than two trees. She gave a short bow in greeting, avoiding his gaze. “Mr. Warwick.”

“Miss Rosemeyer.”

Her eyes flickered to his face briefly, without permission. Even if his mouth was not grinning, his eyes certainly were. Did the mere sight of her discomfort amuse him so greatly? She had been known to be shy at times, but she had never felt so shy as this in her life. There was a proposal of marriage hanging between them, and it felt as thick and heavy as a brick wall.

“I’m glad to see my family’s coach conveyed you here safely,” Mr. Warwick said.

She nodded, not knowing what else to say. Her tongue was tied as she glanced between Matthew and Mr. Warwick. If only she could read Matthew’s expression. He did appear concerned, but he also seemed entirely too fond of Mr. Warwick’s company.

Louisa watched as Mr. Warwick’s gaze shifted to the squat wooden table in the kitchen. The basket he had given her still sat there, the food inside awaiting the boys who were still playing in the small yard. “Were you not hungry?” he asked when he caught Louisa staring at the basket as well.

She looked up. “I’m certain the Lovell boys are much hungrier than I am.” She paused. “Your mother and sister gave me something to eat before you crossed my path this afternoon.”

“I see.” Mr. Warwick cleared his throat. “I apologize for not offering you something to eat sooner.”

At the word offering, she was reminded of his other offer. Her stomach twisted, and she looked down at the floor. Silence fell between them for a long moment until Matthew finally spoke again. “Louisa, will you come outside with me for a moment?”

She nodded, eager to escape the stifling air of the cottage and Mr. Warwick’s direct gaze. As she followed Matthew out the door, her arm brushed against Mr. Warwick’s jacket, causing her stomach to plummet once again. With the door closed behind them, Matthew turned to face her from where they stood on the grass. Margaret’s two brothers tossed a ball back and forth nearby, too distracted to eavesdrop.

“Mr. Warwick told me about his proposal,” Matthew said. He crossed his arms, tipping his head down to look at her. “I know you do not always listen to my opinion or my advice, but I am still going to offer it.”

“Matthew—” Louisa began shaking her head.

“I think you should accept it.”

Those were the words she had most dreaded. Despite how much she liked to disobey Matthew’s unwanted advice, she still respected his opinion. Her heart sank, and she looked down at her hands, wringing her fingers together. “I am afraid,” she whispered. “I hardly know him.”

Matthew sighed. “I know it is not ideal, but I respect him for doing the honorable thing. I am not always right in my assessment of people, but in the short time I have known Mr. Warwick, I see a great deal of…potential in him. I think he is a good man.”

Louisa pressed her lips together to keep herself from refuting the words. In his short acquaintance with him, how could Matthew determine that Mr. Warwick was a good man? Another thought followed, crashing down on the first. In her short acquaintance with him, how could she determine that he was not a good man? She couldn’t. There was much more to a person than a first impression, or even a second impression. And there was certainly much more to people than the rumors that circled around town.

Louisa took a deep breath. “I suppose I should not expect a better offer to come my way. It is more than I should have hoped for.”

Matthew’s face drooped a little, a sadness washing over his features. “There is nothing wrong with hoping and dreaming. But we should also be willing to accept a good thing when it is presented to us.”

Louisa gave a resolute nod. A good thing. But why could she not see this as a good thing? Her heart hammered in her chest. There was something about Mr. Warwick that frightened her and thrilled her all at once. How could she marry someone who was such a mystery?

Matthew sighed. “I will not make your decision for you, but I wanted you to know my opinion. It would be wise to accept his offer.”

Louisa laughed under her breath. “It is easy for you to say that. You do not believe in love.” Louisa had heard countless times from Bridget of her brother’s aversion to marriage and love in general.

Matthew’s eyes narrowed in thought. “You are mistaken. I do believe in love. But I do not trust it.” Remnants of a broken heart still showed in his eyes when the subject of love was brought up. Louisa had seen it several times. Love had always been the only thing Louisa could trust. It had been her dream, her anchor, her hope. She had known, deep in her bones, that one day a man would fall in love with her and then marry her. But now that word—love…it lay dead and crushed at her feet.

“I suppose I should not trust it either,” Louisa said in a dry voice. “I have believed in it my whole life, but it has disappointed me.”

A slight smile lifted Matthew’s lips. “It hasn’t disappointed you yet.”

Louisa frowned as Matthew began walking toward the door. What did he mean by that? Before she could question him, he opened the door. She started to follow him, but stopped when she saw his hand wave someone forward. Matthew glanced back before opening the door wider, making room for Mr. Warwick to come outside in his place. Louisa’s heart leaped as Matthew stepped inside, closing the door behind him, leaving her alone with Mr. Warwick.

The sun was well on its way to setting, leaving orange streaks in the sky. A light breeze threatened to displace Louisa’s bonnet a second time. She held onto the ribbons, hoping they would provide her with a little stability. Mr. Warwick walked forward, stopping several feet away. The silence was too much to bear. Louisa had to say something.

“Your nose,” she blurted. “It looks better.” It was not quite as crooked as it had been the last time she had seen it.

“Was that a compliment?” he asked, a grin lighting up his face.

Her stomach gave an unwelcome flutter. Margaret was right, at least he was handsome. “No. It was an…observation.”

His smile only grew. “Ah. I wonder what other observations you have of me. How many of them are the cause of your hesitation to accept my proposal?” One of his eyebrows rose to accompany his smile.

“Are you asking me to tell you why I hesitate?” Louisa’s heart pounded with nervousness.

“I confess, I am curious.” He shrugged. “Although I might be able to guess at a few of your reasons.”

Her own curiosity piqued. She wouldn’t have guessed that Mr. Warwick was humble enough to recognize his own shortcomings. From the first moment she had met him he had struck her as pompous. “What would you guess?”

He tapped his chin in apparent thought, but there was still a gleam of mischief in his eyes. “I would guess that a large part of your hesitation comes from your fear that I will have a crooked nose forever. You might also hesitate because your attraction to me persists even despite it, and you are embarrassed to be drawn to such a disfigured man.”

Louisa scoffed, grateful for the falling sun to conceal some of the color on her cheeks. How could she have thought for one second that he would take her question seriously? She marched forward, intent to pass him and walk back inside. Her emotions were spiraling, and tears stung behind her eyes. Could he not see how terrified she was?

Mr. Warwick grabbed her arm as she passed, stopping her. Her feet planted themselves in the grass as chills ran from her shoulder to the tips of her fingers. His hand loosened almost instantly. “Wait—Miss Rosemeyer.” He sighed, a hint of frustration in his gaze. “I should not tease you at a time like this.”

“No, you should not.” She fought the lump in her throat, replacing her fear with confidence. “If I am to marry you, I have three stipulations.”

His expression grew more serious, his brow furrowing. “Stipulations?”

“Yes.” Louisa pulled her arm away, clasping her hands together as she took two steps back. She could think more clearly with a greater distance between them.

Mr. Warwick was silent for a long moment before chuckling, shaking his head. “I believe by offering to marry you to save your reputation, I am the one who should be setting these stipulations. I’m afraid you are the one with more to lose in this situation.”

The sardonic tone of his voice set Louisa’s blood boiling. It was true—she was certainly testing her luck, but she wasn’t afraid. “If you wish to marry me, you must agree to my stipulations.”

“I never said I wished to marry you. I offered to marry you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Very well then.” She turned away from him, marching back to the house.

“Very well then…?”

She glanced back at him. “No.”

“No?”

“That is my answer.”

He looked taken aback, giving a hard laugh of disbelief. “You are rejecting my proposal?”

Louisa shrugged, her heart pounding. “I’m afraid so.” What had she done? She had gone against Matthew’s advice, and against her own common sense simply because he had vexed her. But she couldn’t back down now—especially not now that she saw the disappointment in his eyes. She had wounded his pride, that much was certain. “Why should I accept the proposal of a man who will not even listen to a few small requests that I have?” Her stipulations were more than small, but he didn’t know that yet. “In that case, I would be much happier on my own.”

Mr. Warwick stared at her with the same disbelief as before as she turned away, taking the final few steps to the door and walking inside. Matthew sat on the sagging couch, and Margaret stood over her pot in the kitchen again. Both looked at her expectantly as she entered the cottage. She looked down like a guilty child. What had come over her? She had been prepared to accept Mr. Warwick’s proposal, but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to elevate his pride.

Louisa took a deep breath, walking past Matthew without meeting his gaze. “How may I help with dinner?” Louisa asked Margaret. As she walked into the kitchen, she caught sight of Mr. Warwick outside. He was turning away from the cottage. The sun only offered a faint glow as it descended, but it was enough to see the slump in his broad shoulders as he dragged the toe of his boot over the dirt. Was he frustrated…or disappointed? If what he had said was true…that he did not wish to marry her, then he would not be disappointed at all. He would be relieved.

“What happened?” Margaret asked in a hushed voice.

Louisa could feel Matthew’s gaze on the side of her face, so she turned away from his view. She sighed. “I made a mistake.”

Louisa looked out the window again, her heart pounding as Mr. Warwick walked away. She watched his back until he was out of sight.