‘Because the proposals were all from the same man, Mr Etton. He owns the shop next to mine.’
‘He sounds tenacious. What kind of shop is it?’
‘General goods. Sugar, flour, all the baking essentials. That’s how we met.’
‘But you turned down his proposals?’
‘No, I married him...’ She giggled. ‘What do you think?’
His expression turned faintly petulant. ‘You might have told him to come back in a year after you’d thought about it.’
‘Four times? That sounds cruel.’
‘So why did you say no?’
‘Why?’ She lifted an eyebrow at the question. ‘Didn’t you just accuse him of being tenacious?’
‘Humour me. Didn’t you like him?’
‘Oh, I liked him well enough. He’s very good natured.’
‘Too old?’
‘No. He was thirty-one the first time he proposed and that was five years ago so I suppose now he’s...’
‘Thirty-six.’ There was a hard edge to Samuel’s voice this time. ‘Then what is wrong with him?’
‘Nothing, I just didn’t want to marry him. To be honest, I think he sees me more as a business proposition than a bride. He’s never remotely bothered when I refuse him. He just says the offer’s open if I ever change my mind.’ She sighed. ‘I suppose I could be Mrs Etton in a month if I wanted, but that wouldn’t be a very romantic story to tell the grandchildren.’
‘Hmmm. What about the other one?’
‘What?’ Her heart thumped again, even harder than before, though for a different reason.
‘Your other suitor. What happened to him?’
‘Oh.’ She placed a hand over her stomach, turning queasy at the memory. ‘That’s not a very romantic story, either.’
‘Anna?’ Samuel’s gruffness was replaced by instant concern. ‘Are you all right? You’ve gone pale.’
‘Yes...’ She drew her arm away from his, going to sit on a small wooden bench set beside the wall. Her other suitor wasn’t a subject she’d ever talked about with anyone and yet, now that Samuel asked, she found herself wanting to tell him.
‘I’m sorry.’ He crouched do
wn in front of her. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you. I shouldn’t have asked so many questions. It’s just hard not to feel jealous.’
‘Jealous?’
‘Yes.’ He gave a self-deprecating smile. ‘That tends to happen after you’ve kissed someone, especially when you can’t stop thinking about them.’
‘Oh...’
His smile wavered. ‘But if you don’t feel the same way then I understand.’
‘It’s not that. There’s just something I need to tell you.’ She looked into his face, watching intently for his reaction. ‘Do you remember that first day in Sydney Gardens when you asked if my attitude towards Henrietta and Mr Hoxley was based on personal experience? Well, you were right, it was.’
‘A bad experience?’ His brows lowered.
‘Yes.’ She nodded stiffly. ‘It was the summer I turned sixteen. There was a gentleman who used to visit the shop every morning. He was the youngest son of...well, an important person. He was always so charming and polite and friendly, I could never understand why my father didn’t like him. Then one day he passed a note to me across the counter. It said that he was in love with me, obsessed with me even, that he could barely sleep because his heart ached so badly. Then it asked me to meet him that afternoon, to go for a walk in the park and spend some time together.’ She couldn’t bear to look at Samuel any longer, twisting her face to one side. ‘Stupidly, I decided to go.’