Carving for Miss Coventry by Deborah M. Hathaway

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Edward never thought he’d be back. It was a strange sensation, walking through Daffley Park again after being expelled from its premises only a week before.

Mr. Morley allowed him inside when he returned, no one else from the family or household in sight, though Edward kept his eyes peeled for any glimpse of Miss Coventry.

Of course, she was nowhere to be found. Mr. Coventry would have made sure of that.

Edward still couldn’t comprehend why he’d been brought back. Mr. Coventry’s correspondence had not explained much at all.

Mr. Steele,

I am certain this letter will come as a surprise to you. After all, I had determined to never make contact with you again. But as matters have slowly been brought to my attention, I have need to speak with you, one man to another. Therefore, I request your presence at Daffley Park at your earliest convenience. There is no need to send your agreement via correspondence, as I am certain you will readily concur with meeting me.

Lastly, I ask that you do not misconstrue this invitation to return to Daffley as forgiveness for your treatment of my family. I assure you, that matter has not been laid to rest in the slightest.

Signed,

Mr. Jacob Coventry

Edward’s head had spun faster than the ratchet wheel of a sawmill when he’d first read the man’s words. Obviously, Mr. Coventry hadn’t changed his mind in regard to Edward being worthy enough to wed Miss Coventry. But then, to what end had he requested his presence?

He’d expressed his worries to Mother, for he did not wish to see Miss Coventry if he could not be with Miss Coventry. But Mother, of course, had encouraged him to drop everything and leave the moment he’d received word. “The commissions will wait, son,” she’d said. “Love will not.”

Edward had boarded the coach the very next day, unwilling to lose his chance at possibly fighting for the love of his life.

Still, as he followed Mr. Morley through the corridors, Edward’s stomach roiled left to right. What could Mr. Coventry want of him? And why was Mr. Morley leading him to the library?

The butler motioned for him to enter, and Edward did so cautiously, though his feet froze a few steps into the room. Mr. Coventry stood directly before him, his hands clasped behind his back, a steady expression on his face.

Memories of their last conversation floated before Edward, and heat slipped up his neck. “Sir,” he greeted with a stilted bow.

Mr. Coventry barely gave the slightest of nods in response.

The door clicked behind him, and Edward glanced back to find that Mr. Morley had left. Unease crept upon Edward like a silent shadow. Did anyone else know he was in the room with Mr. Coventry?

“I will bring him back if you prefer,” Mr. Coventry said. “Though I will treat you with civility if you pledge to do the same.”

Edward hardly believed the man. After all, how could he? “I can promise that, Mr. Coventry.”

The man drew a deep breath, looking none too pleased. “Much has happened between us, Mr. Steele. I would like to say that I have overcome the mistrust you’ve caused between me and my family, but as you know, that is not the case.”

So Edward had been brought here to simply be berated further? His heart deflated, what little hope he’d allowed himself slipping from his grasp. Why had he even bothered to come? The man would not yield. Edward would never be with Miss Coventry.

He glanced to the bookshelf, his fingers twitching as he took in the sight of the unfinished carving. He did not enjoy leaving things incomplete, and yet, Mr. Coventry had spoken.

“Is that all you wish to say to me, sir?” he asked, his tone clipped. “If so, I will be on my way, as I’ve a stagecoach to catch.”

He’d come so far, was so close to Miss Coventry. He could almost smell the cherries on her breath, see the joy in her smile, feel the warmth of her love.

“If only I could allow you to depart,” Mr. Coventry murmured with a look of regret. “As it is, I have brought you here for another reason.”

Edward’s jaw tightened as he waited impatiently for the man to continue. Would Mr. Coventry ask him to finish the carving without pay? To return the money he’d given him? To swear on his life to never see Miss Coventry again?

“What reason is that, sir?”

“To answer two very pressing questions.”

Edward’s brow drew low. Questions? He’d traveled twenty miles, hadn’t slept a wink, and abandoned Mother again for two questions? Could this man be any more inconsiderate? “Very well. I will do my best to answer them.”

Mr. Coventry’s stare intensified. “Has anything improper occurred between you and my daughter?”

Edward drew in a steady breath, his whole face aflame in seconds. What a thing to be asked by the man whose daughter he longed to marry. “Apart from speaking alone and”—he cleared his throat—“the kiss we shared last week, nothing else happened between us, sir.”

Mr. Coventry seemed to contemplate the answer. “That is just what Marianne has told me.”

How Edward yearned to see the woman. “It is the truth, sir.”

“Hm.” Mr. Coventry’s gaze did not falter. “You are fortunate I believe her. For if I did not, you would not be standing alive before me today, I assure you.”

Edward’s cravat seemed to tighten on its own at Mr. Coventry’s mirthless smile. “I am well aware of that fact, sir.”

The man remained silent.

“Have you another question for me, sir?”

“I do. I must know if your feelings for my daughter are true. Do you love Marianne?”

Edward had never been asked a more important question in his life—nor had he been asked an easier one. With all the love in his heart, he replied. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

Mr. Coventry was silent for what seemed an eternity, his eyes—green, like Miss Coventry’s—delving into Edward’s before he finally nodded. “I believe you.” A beat passed. “But that does not mean you are right for my daughter.”

The words did not come as a surprise—indeed, Edward had expected them. And yet, the wind had been sapped from his sails once again. How much more torture would this man put him through?

“Fortunately, for your sake,” Mr. Coventry continued, “my opinion holds very little weight, as Marianne is adamant in her love for you, as well. She believes that she will be far happier with you than without.”

Edward refused to make room for hope in his heart. He could not believe the man had changed so drastically, so swiftly, to allow Edward any chance at being with Miss Coventry.

Mr. Coventry stepped across the room toward the bookshelf, running his fingers along the smooth section Edward had not yet carved. “When you left Daffley Park, I was determined to announce your despicable behavior to all of Somerset. I did not believe you deserved the chance to work again, given your actions. Fortunately, for your sake, my daughters spoke to my conscience.” He glanced at Edward sidelong. “It would seem that you have finally found advocates in this world.”

Edward blinked in silence. Both daughters had spoken in his defense? What he would not give to know what had been said.

Mr. Coventry continued. “I was made aware of the fact that if I brought your name down further than it already is, the Coventry name would follow suit. As it is, I would prefer not to add more rumors about my family, as my eldest has given me more than enough to deal with.” He grimaced. “At any rate, for those reasons and others, I will keep silent about your behavior—so long as I have your word that you will behave in a manner more akin to a gentleman than a cad.”

Edward swallowed his pride as best he could. Speaking with this man was like speaking with Lord Ryecombe. How they managed such a level of condescension was beyond him.

Still, he could not provoke him further by denying his offer. Mr. Coventry would keep quiet about the rumors. That meant Edward might have some chance at keeping Steele and Son afloat.

And Edward had behaved like a cad.

“You have my word, sir. And thank you. I am indebted to you.”

Mr. Coventry studied him for a moment. “Contrary to your belief, I do not wish to bring others down. And as you have also accused me of being ashamed of my past, I will readily deny that as well. My actions, like yours, are dictated by Society’s standards. And I must rise to meet them—or fall.” He focused his gaze. “I would advise you to do the same, Mr. Steele.”

Edward’s chest emptied of all anger, humility rushing to fill the void left behind. He could not agree with the way the man controlled his daughters, but Mr. Coventry—like Edward—was doing the best he could with what life had dealt him. Though, their struggles were miles apart.

“I admire your ability to rise above your circumstances, sir,” he spoke gingerly. “But striving to overcome the whispers of unworthiness is different than rising above false, damning rumors.”

Mr. Coventry watched him, and Edward could have sworn a flicker of compassion flashed through his eyes. “I am inclined to agree with you, Mr. Steele. Which is why I am willing to help you.”

Help him? The man was offering to help him?

Mr. Coventry eyed the ceiling and shelves. “I will hire you back to finish the carving here—under strict supervision by a member of my household, of course—and if you perform your work admirably, I will offer you my insight and advice on how to raise Steele and Son from the ashes you are working with now.”

Edward stared, dumbfounded. He could not deny the appeal of having the clearly business-minded Mr. Coventry help him rise above his destitution. But had the man not just criticized him and demeaned his worth, said he was unworthy of marrying his daughter? No father would bring an offending man back into his home, and there was no possible way Edward wouldn’t see Miss Coventry at one point or another.

His hands fisted together at the thought of her. He wished to see her so badly his heart ached. But he would not allow himself to believe the man was in earnest. Mr. Coventry must have some ulterior motive. The only problem was, Edward could think of nothing that made sense. Was he simply playing a trick on Edward? Or was this an act of pity?

“I appreciate the gesture, sir, but I cannot accept charity.”

Mr. Coventry scoffed, dropping his hand from the mahogany. “Charity? That is the last thing I would offer you, Mr. Steele. You will work to earn my help.”

That was fair enough, he supposed. Still, something niggled at his conscience. “If it is not charity, then what other reason have you for offering your help?”

With a pointed look, Mr. Coventry responded. “I will not have my name associated with a failing woodworker. Just because my daughter made a poor choice in deciding to marry you, that does not mean I wish her to suffer for it.”

The words struck Edward dumb. Had Mr. Coventry just said…? No, surely, he could not have. “Sir?”

Mr. Coventry continued with an annoyed expression. “Against my better judgment, I will agree to your union with my daughter.”

Edward’s mouth dropped open. This could not be true. It was too wonderful to be true, too perfect. Too…unbelievable.

“I-I do not understand, Mr. Coventry,” he stammered.

“What is there to not understand? You wish for my daughter’s hand in marriage, do you not?”

“More than anything.”

“Then you may have it.”

Edward stared, still reeling. Before he could stop it, light poured into the darkness that had encompassed Edward’s heart for days, filling his soul with an airiness he had not known possible.“But…why?”

“Are you questioning your own worth, Mr. Steele?”

“No, of course not. I will treat your daughter better than anyone on this earth. But I do not understand what has occurred to make you change your mind. I know you cannot approve of the union.”

“No, indeed I do not. But I wish for my daughter’s happiness. And she believes you can give that to her.”

Something about the way he spoke made Edward hesitate—his shifting gaze, how anxious he was to move past the conversation. Had his daughters truly just appealed to their father’s conscience—or had something more been offered? Edward was sure there was more to it than Mr. Coventry let on, but then, what did it matter if he could be with Miss Coventry?

“So what say you, Mr. Steele? Will you accept these terms to obtain my daughter’s hand?”

Edward could have laughed. What an arrangement he was agreeing to—marrying the woman he loved and receiving help from her business-minded father. “Yes, sir. I will absolutely accept the terms you’ve set.”

Mr. Coventry’s lips thinned with clear displeasure. “Then might I suggest you remain here for a moment? I will return shortly.”

Edward watched him walk from the room, staring at the open doorway in utter shock. What on earth had just happened? And how?

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. That was certainly a turn of events he had not been expecting.

Now the question burgeoned in his mind—when would he get to speak with Miss Coventry?

He glanced at the oversized chair in the corner of the room, no books nor crumbs in sight. She hadn’t returned when he’d left?

“I read in the library at nine o’clock.”

Edward swung around at the sound of her voice. His breath caught in his throat. He’d thought of her every day, every moment, since they’d parted. Yet, somehow, he was overcome with even more love by the mere sight of her.

She smiled, her hands clasped together, dimples deepening at the edges of her mouth. Her father stood behind her with eyes narrowed at Edward.

“You have less than a quarter of an hour,” he said with a stern brow, then he gave a brief nod, and his footsteps retreated down the corridor.

Finally, Edward was left alone with Miss Coventry.