Carving for Miss Coventry by Deborah M. Hathaway
Chapter Thirty-Six
Edward returned to Bath late that night, soaked and weary to the bone. Mother was, of course, stunned as he entered through the door of their small home.
“Edward?” she exclaimed, rushing to his side at once, her tattered dressing robe wrapped securely around her shoulders. “What on earth are you doing back?” She kissed his cheek, taking his portmanteau and satchel at once. “Heavens, you are sopping wet, son.”
Edward had hoped to arrive after she’d fallen asleep, if only to avoid the rush of questions awaiting him, but of course that would not be in his fortune.
He allowed her to usher him straight to the fire, pulling forward the chair he and Father had first made together, oak with rigid angles showcasing Edward’s young, unskilled carvings. How he wished Father was there now.
“Remove your boots and stockings,” Mother instructed. “I will heat up the broth I made earlier.”
“Thank you, but there is no need, Mother.” He had no appetite, which was just as well. Before long, they would have no money for food. Once word got out about what had happened between him and Miss Coventry, no one would ever hire him again.
Mother paused, returning to his side at once. She did not speak for a moment, her eyes searching his, but he averted his gaze. Mother had always excelled at reading his mood, even sometimes his thoughts.
But his thoughts needed to be his own tonight. If they escaped, he did not know how he would ever get them under control again.
“What happened, son? You were not to arrive for another two months.”
He drew a deep breath but said nothing. She watched him then moved to place two small logs onto the fire in the hearth.
“Did you return to ensure Mr. Chapple did not evict us?” she guessed. “I told you I could manage the man. He has not contacted me in weeks.”
“That is because I wrote him a letter, promising to pay our rent in full by the end of next week.”
Mother stared. “And…and can you make good on that promise?”
He stuck his tongue in his cheek, feeling the bite marks he’d created on the stagecoach, attempting to prevent his mind from dwelling on the woman he’d left behind—the woman who had pushed for his and Mother’s livelihood.
“I will be able to satisfy the rent for the last few months. But if I do so, nothing will remain of what Mr. Coventry paid me.” He would now spend the rest of his days searching for one commission after another.
Mother hesitated, stoking the fire as Edward stared into the growing flames. “Did you finish your work at the Coventrys’ early?”
There would be no end to the questions that evening. In truth, Mother deserved to know what he’d done, how he’d destroyed their lives and their future.
“No, Mother. I was asked to leave.”
She was not surprised, the fire lighting the weary lines in her brow and beneath her tired eyes. “They heard word of the rumors then?”
Edward laughed mirthlessly. “That was only part of the reason.” His stomach churned, the emptiness inside as barren as his heart. How could he admit to Mother that he had irreversibly damaged their one chance to rise above their struggles? There was no possible way Mr. Coventry would keep silent on the entire matter. Once word spread, Edward would surely never receive a commission again.
“Edward, tell me,” she urged softly.
He leaned forward, scrubbing his hands up and down his face. “They asked me to leave because…because I fell in love with Mr. Coventry’s daughter.”
Mother didn’t respond, sitting back against her chair in shock, no doubt wondering what she’d done to have ever been cursed with such a selfish son.
For he was selfish. What other man would risk his mother’s livelihood in such a way?
He hung his head in shame as her silence continued. “Forgive me, Mother. I did everything within my power to stop my feelings from growing. I knew the costs and the risks. But Miss Coventry…” His mind flooded with memories of her—her striking green eyes, her ability to find joy in the mundane, her selflessness and goodness. “She is everything to me.”
The fire snapped, embers shooting into the air as Mother sniffed.
He glanced up with a wince. Sure enough, tears filled her eyes. “I’m sorry to have caused you such grief,” he said, knowing her tears were born from their lost future. “I only pray you may one day forgive me.”
“Oh, Ed…” Mother leaned forward in her chair, close enough to place her hands over his. “That is not what upsets me.” She sniffed again. “We will get by, as we always have. What upsets me is the lack of hope I see within your eyes.”
He stared, his brow pursed as she continued.
“I can hardly comprehend everything you’ve shared,” she said with a small laugh. “So many things to understand. But none so shocking as the fact that my son has finally fallen in love.” She smiled, a tear trailing from her squinted eyes. “She must be quite a woman to have earned your admiration.”
His heart pinched. “She is the best of women,” he whispered. “She has conquered much hardship in her life, and still her smile remains. She is enthusiastic about everything. She believed me without hesitation when I told her about Father.”
Mother shook her head in awe. “No wonder you love her.”
Edward looked down at her aged hands still resting atop his. “Yes, but to no avail. Her father will not allow it, and I cannot afford it.”
“Would she be happy marrying into this life, do you think?”
“If we were not absolutely destitute, yes, I believe she would. She is not materialistic, nor is she frivolous in her behavior. But I could not bring her down so low.”
Mother winced, sorrow tugging her lips into a frown. “I’m sorry this burden has been placed upon you, to run Steele and Son. To care for me. A man your age ought not be worrying about such matters. You ought to be free to fall in love, to live carefree and happily. To marry the woman you want. Not weighed down by false rumors and a widowed mother.”
Edward took her hand at once. “You mustn’t ever think that I resent you, Mother, or that I have ever resented the opportunity I have to care for you. You are not to be blamed for any of this, so do not take it to heart.”
She nodded, though her weary brow remained. “So what is to be done of the matter?”
Edward sighed. “I will pay Mr. Chapple the rent in full tomorrow. Then I will begin work on the commissions you’ve made in my behalf and pray the money will last. Then I—”
“No, Ed,” Mother interrupted with a smile. “What is to be done about Miss Coventry?”
He stared. “Nothing is to be done.”
“I cannot believe such a thing.”
“It is true. I’ve been through every possible situation. Even if my workload increases and our situation improves, Miss Coventry will no doubt be coerced into marrying a gentleman—one of whom her father would approve.”
He wanted Miss Coventry’s happiness more than anything, but the thought of her marrying another made his chest shrivel like a dying flower. Still, what could be done if all he had to offer her was a penniless marriage?
“There is no chance Mr. Coventry will see to your plight?” Mother asked next.
He laughed mirthlessly. “No. No, he is adamant his daughters will marry gentlemen.”
Mother grimaced, then after a moment, she planted her hands on her knees and straightened her back. “Well, I am going to warm up that broth for myself. You may as well enjoy a bowl, too.”
His stomach rumbled as if on cue.
She stood, speaking as she moved to the adjoining kitchen. “While I do so, perhaps you may take my mind off my work by telling me more about this Miss Coventry.”
Edward hesitated. Speaking of the woman would surely do him more harm than good. But then…didn’t a mother have the right to know more about the woman her son had fallen for, even if there was no chance of marriage?
With a heavy heart, he joined her in the kitchen before his depressed thoughts could swallow him whole.