A Perilous Secret

by Jane Wetherby

  “That is quite all right, ma’am,” Isabella said, bowing her head. I knew her well enough, though, to hear the disappointment in her voice.

  “My apologies, ma’am, but I am having a difficult time believing that you simply wish for me to accompany you for no other reason than to unburden my father,” I said.

  “Well, wouldn’t you like to go on holiday with us?” she asked.

  My heart leapt into my throat. “Oh, yes, of course, my Lady. Please do not take my question as displeasure.”

  Aunt Patience’s face split into a smile. “Yes, I know,” she said. “Well, you are quite a bit more like your eldest sister, aren’t you? Clever, for certain.”

  She sipped her tea once more.

  “Dear Amelia,” she said. “You must be aware that you are the prettiest of all your sisters. Not to say that my dear Isabella and Susannah are not also very pretty, but Amelia, you are the beauty of the family. There is one in every family, of course,” she said. “Now that your sister has had such good luck finding a match, perhaps you will, as well.”

  “And you suspect that taking Amelia to Bath will give her a chance to meet some suitable gentlemen?” Father asked, bring a teacup to me. He fixed it the precise way I liked, with two sugars and just a splash of cream.

  “Precisely,” Aunt Patience said rather enthusiastically. “Bath is a widely popular destination for young people looking for a spouse, and many come to mingle with those fine young ladies and gentlemen of society in a rather comfortable environment.”

  “So you mean for me to come so I may find a husband?” I asked.

  “Yes, indeed,” Aunt Patience said. “It is such a popular place, and there are always such agreeable young men that you can meet, and Sir Hayward and I are absolutely certain that we will find someone for you.”

  I pursed my lips, looking away. All the excitement I had felt was quickly fading, and I could only shake my head.

  “What’s the matter, dear?” Aunt Patience said.

  “I am very thankful for your offer, Aunt Patience, but I am certain that I would be the last person that you would want to take with you to Bath,” I said. “Not only would I be far less socialized than all of those that I would meet, but there is certainly no way that a young man of any stature would stoop to marry me.”

  “Amelia,” Father said in a warning tone. “You would do well not to overstep your bounds or your aunt’s kindness.”

  “Oh, forgive me, Father,” I said. “I simply mean that I am quite aware that given my background, I know that the prestigious sorts of men that frequent Bath would likely never look twice at the daughter of a vicar. For what can I offer them?”

  Father’s face fell, and the teapot in his hands sagged. “As I have said many times, my dear, you know how I wish our life could have been different. How I long to have been able to help you all to find amiable matches…”

  “Dear Mr. Honeyfield, there is nothing to fear,” Aunt Patience said brightly. “Your profession is admirable, and though your daughters are not to have the same dowry as a duchess, they do have an aunt who dotes on them and wishes to see them well.”

  I looked at her, frowning. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “I mean to do just the same for you as I did for Juliana,” Aunt Patience said. “Your sister was able to find a match, and may I remind you that Mr. Thorne was well aware of her upbringing and still chose to pursue her anyway?”

  I knew that she was correct. From the way Juliana described it, Mr. Thorne could not care any less about who her father was.

  But love was such a rare treasure. I was not foolish enough to think that even though my sister found it, I might find it as well.

  “My dear, I mean to allow my relation to you to do the speaking,” Aunt Patience said. “When we are in Bath, those you meet will not know that you are the daughter of a vicar. Instead, they shall see you as the niece of Sir Hayward, and that alone will be enough to draw the eye of some of the men there.”

  She looked over at my father once again, smiling.

  “Please, Mr. Honeyfield. I hope you do not take offense to that. My hope is simply to give your daughter the best advantage that she could have. We are not ashamed of you, and I know that dear Amelia is not either,” she said.

  Father shook his head, though his smile seemed a bit strained. “I am well aware, Lady Hayward. And just like you, I wish for my daughters to have the very best chance of finding a worthy husband. For in my mind, they all deserve to be married to dukes or earls.”

  “Well, never you fear, Mr. Honeyfield. I shall do all in my power to ensure matches will be worthy and well made,” Aunt Patience said. “They are wonderful girls, and I know that my sister loved them dearly.” Her smile faltered somewhat. “To be quite honest, I feel as if helping your daughters is my way of honoring her. She would never have wanted to see her children living in poverty when their father perished one day. I know that she will rest much better if they are taken care of, happy and married.”

  “You are too kind, Lady Hayward,” Father said, bowing his head. “We do not deserve your kindness.”

  “Nonsense,” Aunt Patience said. “Family is family, regardless of societal ranking. I loved my sister dearly, and I love your children just as much as if they were my own. Allow me to help you, Mr. Honeyfield. Allow me to help care for you in this way by taking Amelia with me to Bath so she can meet some of the young men there. And if you do give me the chance, I shall promise to not return with her until she has met a proper match.”

  I stared across the space between us. How could she be so certain that I would find a match? Did she already have someone in mind? She did an admirable job with Juliana, but how could she be certain that she could repeat the results?

  Father looked around at me, his blue eyes steady. “Well, Amelia? What say you? Would this be a trip that you would wish to embark upon?”

  I folded my hands, turning my gaze down to my lap. I wasn’t certain. What had originally been an exciting prospective trip now seemed to be more of a chore than not. I worried about the high expectations that both my aunt and I would both have. I feared that my relation to my uncle would not be enough to tempt some of these potential suitors.

  “Think of it this way, my dear,” Aunt Patience said. “If you do not choose to go with me, it doesn’t mean that you won’t find a match, but you must realize that your choice will not only affect you but your younger sisters as well. The sooner you are married, the sooner they may also begin to find prospective husbands. And it is true that you have a chance of meeting someone here, in this small town, perhaps at our home or at a town ball. But… the truth is that you are far more likely to meet someone when you come to Bath with me.”

  I looked up at her, and she was giving me a kind, understanding sort of look.

  “I realize this is a tough choice,” Aunt Patience said. “I do hope that you will give it some thought.”

  She rose to leave, and I stood as well.

  “I believe I have made up my mind,” I said, looking at her.

  “And?” Aunt Patience asked.

  I could feel Father staring at me, as well as both Isabella and Susannah.

  “I shall go,” I said. “For I believe you are correct when you say it is my best chance of finding a husband more quickly. I do not wish to punish my sisters by making a selfish choice. It would not be fair to them.”

  “Wonderful,” Aunt Patience said, clapping her hands together and laughing happily. “Oh, we shall have such fun, dear. Such fun indeed.”

  3

  “I hope you will not despise me, sisters, for choosing to go to Bath,” I said as we waved to Aunt Patience in her carriage as she rode down the road away from the cottage.

  Susannah glanced sidelong at me, arching a brow. “I would have thought you a fool to turn down such an offer,” she said. “To go to Bath, mingle with some of the social elite… To be quite honest, I am rather jealous. I wish that Aunt Patience could have taken all of us.”<
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  “As she said, she wished she could, too,” Isabella said. “It is rather unfortunate that we shall not have the same experiences, but at least two of us will be here to help take care of the home with Father.”

  I sighed, staring at the carriage that was disappearing into the distance. “Poor Father. What will he do when all of us are out of the house?”

  “Not worry so much anymore,” Isabella said. “I have heard him express interest in traveling around to visit his parishioners. Mother told me that he used to do that before we were born, and that he always wished he could do that again but never wanted to while we were around. He feels responsible for us now. To be quite honest, I think Aunt Patience deciding to step in and help us is an utter relief for him.”

  “That is rather comforting,” I said. “I simply hope that he will not be putting on a brave face for us.”

  “You know Father can hide nothing from us,” Susannah said. “If anything, I think he will be happy to see us moving on.”

  “I suppose,” I said. “I still worry about him since mother’s death. I know he has been happier these last months, but to think of him all alone in this cottage, the place he had shared with her for all their marriage…”

  “He will have to make his peace with it,” Isabella said. “It is not our responsibility to fix his heart.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” I said.

  We returned indoors, finding Father preparing a small meal for lunch. After Aunt Patience promised that we would be leaving for Bath within the week, she insisted that she must depart and stayed only long enough to finish her tea, which seemed to please Father.

  “How exciting, Amelia,” Father said. “Going to Bath to find a husband. You know, your mother and I went to Bath once, when we were very young. Your Aunt Patience and her husband invited us to stay with them. It’s a lovely place, and there is always something happening.” He stared thoughtfully into the distance. “I wonder how much it has changed…”

  “Not much, I am certain,” I said. “I did not know that you and Mother went to Bath.”

  “I imagine there are a great many things we don’t know about them, right, Father?” Susannah asked.

  “Indeed,” he said. “Though it was not long before little Juliana came to join our family, and we were very happy. It was much harder to travel, and the parish was becoming busy, so it required more of my time. Well, regardless, I am looking forward to hearing all about your trip to Bath. I am certain you will have a fantastic time.”

  “I am sure you are correct, Father,” I said, smiling.

  We enjoyed a small lunch of some hard cheese and dried berries with the bread from breakfast, Father telling me all about the grand feasts I would likely attend in Bath. It was a great deal for me to take in, and I was having a hard time settling on the idea that I would be indeed going on a trip. Aside from traveling to Northington Park for the ball that Mr. Thorne held and had invited us all to, I had never been far from the small town in which I grew up.

  After lunch, I excused myself from the others who had set themselves up in the sitting room. Father had opened the windows, the air mild and comfortable, and had fallen asleep in his chair with a book on his lap. Isabella was doing some needlework, and Susannah was compiling a letter to send back to Juliana.

  “I think I shall go for a walk,” I said, getting to my feet.

  “Do not stray too far,” Isabella said, hardly looking up from her work. “The weather may be amiable now, but you know how quickly the rains can come this time of year.”

  I smiled at her. “Yes, dear sister,” I said, laughing softly.

  I returned to the room that I shared with the other two and crossed to my bed. I knelt beside it and reached my hand beneath. I located a basket I had been meaning to fix for some time, as well as a collection of old, broken teacups that I had meant to fix for Mother. But my fingers grazed across a small leather satchel, and my heart skipped.

  I pulled it out from under the bed, dusting it off as I did.

  I smiled, and picked it up, walking from the room.

  I made my way outdoors, the wind whipping through my blonde hair. I did my best to hold it back beneath my bonnet, but the wind seemed determined to try and steal it away.

  I carried the satchel, clutched tightly beneath my arm, to a low hill just a few minutes’ walk from the cottage. I found a comfortable spot on the thick grass and sat down.

  I know it was quite unladylike to sit on the grass like a child, but there were no benches around, nor any people. I was alone, entirely out in the middle of nature, and certainly knew that this was the very best way for me to enjoy it.

  I opened the satchel and pulled out a small wooden palette. Shallow, smooth indents were scattered around the surface, stained with different colors from years of use. I had hand carved it myself when I was younger and had not had the heart to attempt fashioning a new one. I ran my fingertips across its surface, worn from years of use, and smiled.

  I reached back inside and found the collection of paints I had been nursing for over a year now. They were very nearly gone, which was part of the reason why I had not used it as much in the last few months. I knew I would have to attempt to find a way to purchase more, otherwise I might have to resort to making some from flowers and berries when they were ripe this summer.

  The last thing I procured was my prize possession: a slender horsehair paint brush. Mother and Father had given it to me for Christmas one year, having saved up and purchased it for me. I cherished it above every other art tool I had.

  They may have been simple, but after years of saving and collecting, it was something I was rather proud of.

  It was like breathing anew when I dipped my brush into the paint. I found an older canvas that I had already finished some years ago and was rather unhappy with and decided simply to paint over it. And the countryside, the place I called home, seemed like the perfect thing to paint.

  As the paint slid easily across the canvas, I began to consider my upcoming future.

  For such a long time, I had never been able to see a life outside of the cottage that I had grown up in. I couldn’t imagine ever leaving. I was three and twenty and was older than what most young men would want in a bride.

  It wasn’t as if I was resentful of this thought. Like my older sister, I had come to accept my fate. That was quite all right with me, in many ways. As disheartened as I was that I might have ended up a spinster, never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined that I would have been presented with an opportunity such as taking a trip to Bath to be introduced to young men of suitable heritage.

  It was not lost on me that I was very fortunate to have an aunt who seemed to take a personal interest in the lives of my sister and me. I knew that it was much more likely for those of higher birth to utterly ignore those in their family, regardless of their blood relation, if they were of a much lower status than they.

  Aunt Patience and Uncle Charles, however, certainly seemed to take pity on us and wished to help us. I was not certain what we had done to deserve her kindness, but I knew that I should be grateful and continue to always be so.

  I had heard stories of Bath over the years. I had heard of the fancy dinner parties and the elaborate, well-attended balls. I heard of the homes of the wealthy and how many of the people that stayed in Bath did not in fact live there all year long. Renting was a common practice, and many of the houses would change hands within a few months’ time.

  As I rinsed the paint off my brush, I could not help but smile a small smile. I never imagined I would have a chance to see a large city. It wasn’t as if I had dreamt of going to one, but cities meant wealth and people and excitement. I had always been very happy in my quiet life in the country, and I imagined that I always would be happy here. But seeing a city would be quite interesting, and more than anything, I was not sure what to expect.

  I wondered what sort of people we would be staying with. I realized it was incredibly kind of them to offe
r to take me as well. Aunt Patience had made it seem as if she had already made the arrangements with those we would be staying with. I wondered what she had told them of me, and if she had known that I would accept from the very beginning.

  That Aunt Patience… She was rather clever, wasn’t she? That sort of thinking must have been a family inherited trait, for Mother was very much the same way, always knowing what sort of choices we would make before we ever did.

  I was finishing the touches on the horizon in my painting when I heard a voice behind me.

  “I thought I might find you out here.”

  I glanced over my shoulder to see Isabella coming my way. The wind was blowing her skirts just as it had blown mine, but she did not look bothered by it.

  “You have been gone for nearly two hours,” Isabella said. “Our town is peaceful, but it certainly would not take you quite so long to take a stroll through it.”

  I smiled at her. “Yes, well, I thought I would take advantage of the weather today and do some painting.”

  “It’s been some time since I have seen you with your paints,” she said with a smile. “I am pleased to see you have them.”

  Isabella sat down beside me, crossing her knees.

  “Do you remember when we would sit out here as children?” she asked. “Collecting flowers, making crowns, talking of what the future held for us…”

  “Did you ever imagine that we would be considering marriage?” I asked, dipping my brush into the pot of red paint. It was very nearly gone. I realized how dearly I loved the color. “And that our eldest sister would be married?”

  “Certainly not in the way it happened,” Isabella said. “I imagined we would be married, but I imagined it would be in a less exciting way. Meeting a young man at church or perhaps at one of the public balls at the assembly hall. I thought we might marry farmers or perhaps a blacksmith. No one of great prestige, but in my childish heart, I always imagined it would be for love, and that would be enough to sustain us. Just like with Mother and Father.”