Dreaming of You (The Gamblers #2)(55)

It was ridiculous, letting herself brood over a man like him. What had gone on between them was finished—and the episode had been so brief, really, it had all been like a dream. Perry was real, and so was her life in Greenwood Corners. She would content herself with family and friends, and embark on a future with a man who loved her.

“I still can’t bring myself to believe our young Mr. Kingswood finally came up to scratch.” Mrs. Hodges shook her head with a smile, watching as Katie cleaned the grate for her and Sara piled kindling in her kitchen fireplace. Because Mr. and Mrs. Hodges were elderly and Mr. Hodges had bouts of rheumatism, they sometimes required help with their household chores. Dusting her prized kitchen dresser with its display of pewter and china, Mrs. Hodges spoke in jovial tones. “Heaven’s sake, I’m surprised his mother allowed it.” As she saw Katie and Sara’s guarded expressions, her smile faded and her round cheeks sagged with dismay. She had meant to make them laugh. Instead she seemed to have touched on a sore point.

Sara broke the tension with a shrug. “Mrs. Kingswood had no choice in the matter. And she seems to have reconciled herself to the idea. After all, she can hardly fault me for loving Perry.”

“That’s right,” Mrs. Hodges agreed quickly. “It will do both the Kingswoods a world of good for Perry to take a wife of his own. Martha nearly ruined that boy with her spoiling, if you ask me.”

Biting off a heartfelt agreement, Sara hung freshly scrubbed pots and kettles on the fireplace bracket. A frill of lace hovered just above her eyebrow, and she pushed it back irritably. At Perry’s urging she had gone back to wearing her lace caps, but they no longer seemed to fit the way they once had. She walked over to the stone-paved sink in order to wash her sooty hands and arms, shivering at the icy gush of water from the pump.

“That girl isn’t afraid of work,” Mrs. Hodges said to Katie. “She’s nothing like the rest of these flighty village chits, with nary a thought in their heads but how to dress their hair and make eyes at the men.”

“Sara has a pair of able hands and a quick mind,” Katie agreed. “She’ll be a good wife to Perry. And a blessing to his mother, if Martha will allow it.”

Mrs. Hodges watched Sara closely. “Is she still insisting that you and Perry live with her after the marriage?”

Sara’s back tensed. She continued to rinse her hands until they were white and numb. “I’m afraid so,” she said evenly. “We haven’t resolved the issue yet.”

“Oh, dear.” Mrs. Hodges turned to exchange a few quiet murmurs with Katie.

Paying no attention to their exchange, Sara dried her frozen hands and thought about the past month. Martha Kingswood had received the news of the engagement with remarkable calmness. Sara and Perry had told her together. They had been astonished by her lack of protest. “If marrying Sara will bring you happiness,” Martha had said to Perry, holding his face in her narrow hands, “then I give my blessing to the both of you.” She had bent and pressed a brief kiss on her son’s lips, and then straightened to look at Sara with a slitted gaze.

Since then, Martha had interfered with and criticized every decision they made. Perry seemed oblivious of his mother’s badgering, but it never failed to send Sara’s mood plummeting. She was afraid that her marriage would be an endless battleground. The last week, especially, had been a trying one. Martha was preoccupied with the idea that Perry was abandoning her. She had declared her intention of living with her son and his wife after the wedding.

“It’s hardly an unorthodox idea,” Perry had told Sara. “Many couples reside with their parents—and grandparents, too. I don’t see that there’s any need for us to live in seclusion.”

Sara had been aghast. “Perry, you’re not saying you want to share a home with her, are you?”

A frown crept across his boyishly handsome face. “What if your mother were all alone and she asked us to live with her?”

“It’s not the same. Mine isn’t demanding and impossible to please!”

Perry looked hurt and sullen. He was not used to arguments from her. “I’ll thank you not to use such words about Mother, and to remember that she brought me up and took care of me with no help from anyone.”

“I know that,” Sara said ruefully, trying to think of a solution. “Perry, you have some money of your own, don’t you? Some savings put away?”

He bristled at the question, for it wasn’t a woman’s place to ask questions about money. “That not your concern.”

Excited about her idea, Sara ignored his offended masculine pride. “Well, I have a little nest egg. And I’ll make enough from the sale of my next book to buy a cottage of our own. I’ll work my fingers to the bone if necessary, so that we can hire someone to keep your mother company and look after her.”

“No,” he said instantly. “A housemaid would not care for her the way her own family would.”

A vision of herself waiting hand and foot on Martha Kingswood, and giving up her writing forever, caused Sara to flush angrily. “Perry, you know how miserable I would be if she lived with us. She’ll complain about everything I do, how I cook, how I keep the house, how I teach my children. You’re asking too much of me. Please, we must find some other way—”

“You are going to marry me for better or worse,” he said sharply. “I thought you understood what that meant.”