A Headstrong Woman(89)

“There are three spare rooms that are empty where you would be more comfortable,” Alexandria told him.

He shook his head. “That would be taking it a bit far, the settee is fine.”

“You won’t fit very well,” she cautioned as her eyes traveled the long length of his body.

“Perhaps not, but in the long run, I will be much more comfortable on the settee. The throw pillow and light blanket on the back will work fine. Good night, ladies,” he said and stepped from the room. Alexandria wearily climbed the stairs to her room; she wished her sister a good night over her shoulder.

***



Anna lay in her bed and staring at the ceiling. She should be too exhausted to think but her mind seemed unaware of this. All she could think about was how much she wished it had been her hair Jonathon’s hands had been in. How she wanted him to search her out of the crowd and spend an entire evening at her side and to pay one hundred dollars for the honor. She wanted him to come to her defense. Anna sighed. Not knowing how he felt about her was eating her up. Would he have treated her as he had treated Alexandria if she were in the same circumstances?

Anna finally tossed aside her covers, pulled on her dressing gown, and started down the stairs. She had to address this if she was to ever have peace. She stood in the doorway to the parlor a moment, Jonathon unaware that she was there. She studied him in the dim light from a nearby lantern. She knew he was awake by his movements. Jonathon was rubbing his forehead as though his head was hurting.

“Jonathon,” she said as she entered the room.

Jonathon frowned and sat up abruptly.

“Anna! What are you doing in here?” he demanded as he came to his feet.

“I need to talk with you,” she stopped in front of him.

“Have a seat and let me turn the lamp up,” he was unnerved by both her nearness and the way she was watching him.

“No, I need to say this now before I lose my nerve. I love you, Jonathon!” she blurted. “You must know that.”

“I know that you’re infatuated with me, Anna,” he said gently.

“Infatuated? No, Jonathon, I love you,” she insisted.

“Anna….”

Anna leaned forward and pressed her lips to his and waited for him to kiss her back.

He didn’t.

Jonathon gently took Anna’s arms and pushed her away, himself taking a step backwards to put more space between them. “Anna, you’re a very sweet young lady and I have no desire to hurt you,” Jonathon started; he was uncertain how to continue.

“You’re still in love with Emily, aren’t you?” she asked with understanding.

Jonathon frowned. “No, I mean, I still love her but that isn’t why…”

“Of course you still love her, I understand…”

“I don’t think you do. I will always love Emily, but she no longer stands in the way of my moving on,” he could see that he’d confused her. “I really like you as friend, Anna, you’re interest in me keeps us from a closer friendship but that is all that will ever be between us,” he explained gently.

Anna felt her eyes begin to sting and quickly nodded.

“I see,” she turned and all but ran from the room.

Jonathon sighed and reclaimed his position on the settee. He really had not wanted to hurt her. How had he gotten in this mess anyway, he wondered as he twirled his hair around one finger in an agitated manner. He was in love with one woman and being pursued by her sister. Jonathon stilled in his fidgeting. Was he in love with Alexandria? That he found her attractive and was interested in her he had no doubt, but did he love her? He thought of her smile, her teasing him, her chin coming up in that stubborn tilt, and he smiled. He did love her. He didn’t know when it had happened but he loved her. What was he to do about it? Alexandria had made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with men. Could he change her mind? Would he lose her entirely if he tried? Jonathon sighed; he didn’t know.



Jonathon had been dozing on and off for a couple of hours when a noise in the kitchen woke him. He cautiously made his way down the hall to the dim light in the kitchen and peered into the room. His eyes first fell on the water pump, a forgotten glass of water still beneath it. In the floor in front of the stove sat Alexandria; the door was open, and her knees were drawn to her chest. She was shaking all over and crying.

“Alexandria,” he called softly so he wouldn’t startle her.