I draped my cream silk shawl over my shoulders. “Ready, Mama?”
“Just a moment, Rebecca,” Mama said as I turned to her. “There is something I wish to speak to you about before we leave.”
I froze in the midst of smoothing my skirts. Had William spoken to her? Had he mentioned that I had asked about the Bainbridges during our ride? “What about?” I managed.
She sat on my vanity bench and gestured for me to sit on the armchair nearby. I lowered myself to the brocade cushion, eyeing her.
“I . . .” She took a deep breath. “I wanted to tell you something before we arrive at the assembly. I’m afraid it might be a bit of a shock.”
I squinted. A shock? This could not be about my prying information out of William. “You are making me nervous, Mama.” My mind hurried to invent whatever she could possibly have to tell me. Was she terribly ill? Had William lost the company? Had something happened to Rachel or her children?
She leaned forward. “I am sorry. I should have prefaced this by saying it is good news, not bad.”
“But what is it?”
Mama set her hands in her lap, twisting the fabric of her dress. “While you were in Brighton, I had a visitor. Mr. Hambley. Do you remember him from last summer?”
A vague image of a tall, balding man came to the forefront of my mind. “The farmer?”
She sighed. “He’s a gentleman who owns a great deal of farmland, yes.”
I remembered him. That was, I dimly remembered him. He’d visited Havenfield once or twice last summer and had occupied my mother’s side a bit too much at the last ball we’d attended in Millbury. He was quiet, unassuming, and . . . well, that was all I knew about him.
“He came to see me, like I said,” Mama went on, “and we had such a pleasant afternoon that he continued to visit me.” She paused. “Nearly every day.”
I straightened. Every day? We stared at each other, and I found myself at a loss for words, a rare occurrence for me. “What are you saying, Mama?” I finally managed. “Do you”—I gulped—“like him?”
She nodded. “I confess that I do, though I had not planned to. I thought we might be friends. But he is such a kind man, gentle and intelligent.”
I rubbed my ear as if the action would stop her words from reaching me. Kind? Gentle? “And is there—?” My voice cut out as my throat grew uncomfortably tight. “Is there an understanding between the two of you?”
Mama, married? Preposterous.
“No,” Mama said quickly, as if reassuring me that she wasn’t already engaged would lessen the impact of what she was telling me. “That is, we have talked of it. But I would not allow more than that without discussing it with you.”
“I’ve been home over a week, Mama. Only now you are telling me this?”
She exhaled. “I am sorry. I put it off because I could not find the right time or way to tell you. But . . .” Her voice drifted off.
“But he will be there tonight.” I could not bring myself to say his name.
“Yes,” she said simply. “I did not want to pretend in front of you. I’d rather have it all laid clear so we can be honest with one another.”
She might as well have landed a blow to my stomach. I stared at her. How ridiculous was this? I’d gone off to Brighton and gotten myself secretly engaged to Edward all while Mama had been entertaining a suitor in my absence. We’d both deceived each other.
With the difference being that Mama was telling me the truth now.
I opened my mouth. I would tell her. I would tell her about Edward and our engagement and our hopes to fix whatever had divided our families in the past.
But then I closed my mouth again. I wasn’t ready. I could not let the shock of Mama’s revelation ruin all our well-laid plans. Our idea would work, but I could not rush it.
“So if he proposed,” I said, the words thick on my tongue, “you would accept?”
She stared down at the thick woven rug under our feet. “I think that I would.”
“And Papa?” I whispered. I knew what she would say, but I needed to hear it from her.
“I still love your father,” she said softly. “You must know that I will always love him. But Mr. Hambley is a good man, and I think your father would be glad for me to have found someone.”
I nodded, though my mind spun like a shuttlecock in a game of battledore. Mr. Hambley. Mama planned to marry Mr. Hambley, a simple farmer who stood out in my mind only because of how unremarkable I remembered him being.
“We ought to go down,” I said, standing. “William and Juliana are waiting.”
Mama stood as well. “I am sorry, Rebecca. I should have told you sooner.”
I clasped and unclasped my hands. She had waited to tell me because she’d known I would react exactly this way. But how else was I to respond to the news that my mother, a widow of nearly a decade, had now decided to marry again?
Mama’s forehead was creased with lines. I blew air from my mouth. This was silly. I was being selfish acting like this.
“No, I am sorry, Mama,” I said, stepping to her. “I’m surprised, is all. I . . . I expect it might take some time to accustom myself to the idea. But I shall try to be happy for you.”
Her eyes glistened, and she reached for me. As we embraced, I pressed my face into her shoulder, my stomach sinking low.
If only my feelings matched my words.
Our ride to the Millbury Assembly Rooms was quiet. Thankfully, William and Juliana had decided to accompany us, or the ride would have been unbearable, alone with Mama for a quarter hour. As it was, I could barely meet her eyes, smiling awkwardly each time.
Why now? Why did Mr. Hambley have to choose now to court my mother? My life was already a delicate balance of truth and lies. This was yet another complication added to my list, and I knew it would wear on me, having to pretend happiness while I sorted out my true feelings.
Thankfully, an assembly would provide reasonable excuses to avoid both Mama and Mr. Hambley. I would dance every dance if it meant not having to spend time with them. I could not avoid the situation forever, but for tonight, I needed my wits about me.
Because tonight I would convince Lieutenant Avery that I was the last girl he should be interested in.
I’d contemplated my problem for the last few days since meeting him during my ride with William. For a while, I’d debated simply telling the lieutenant the truth about Edward and me. Surely, he would understand my situation if I explained it to him. But what if he told Mama and William? I couldn’t take that risk.
I straightened my back as the village flashed by the carriage windows. My next and current idea was much more promising. I’d been out in Society long enough to have observed a great number of failed flirtations and courtships. Before William had married Juliana, it had been a source of endless entertainment to Mama and me as we had watched all the ladies trying to catch his attention. Unfortunately for them, false laughter, shallow flirtations, and inane gossip were not the way to my brother’s heart. I did not know Lieutenant Avery well, but I was certain that he and William were similar in this regard.
Now those ladies would be my source of inspiration. I would do everything I could to ward off the lieutenant. By the end of the night, he would be saying prayers of thanks that he’d escaped any serious attachment to me.
I simply needed to put Mama and her new beau from my mind long enough to be successful.
When we arrived at the assembly rooms, I went with Mama as she greeted all her Millbury friends and I answered questions about my visit to Brighton. All the while, I kept a sharp eye out for Lieutenant Avery. I hoped he might have forgotten about the dance I had promised him, but I would be prepared in any case. And I was anticipating watching him suffer through the first set with Miss Follett. At least I would have that simple amusement tonight.
“Rebecca!”
Sarah Mason wound through a passing group of ladies, a bright smile on her face. I embraced her as she reached me. “I hadn’t any idea you were in town. I thought you were touring the lakes?”
She pulled back and adjusted the dark curls bouncing around her cheeks. “I was, but we returned yesterday. What good luck you arrived just before us.”
Good luck indeed. When we’d arrived in Millbury after the Season, I had been disappointed to learn she and her family had left on a tour of the Lake District. We’d become rather good friends during my previous visits to Havenfield and had exchanged letters all winter, so I had been eager to renew our acquaintance.
I pulled Sarah’s arm into mine, and we slipped away from Mama’s group of chattering matrons. In the few minutes before the dancing began, Sarah shared news of her trip and the stunning sights they’d seen.
“And that is not even the best of it,” she said, flicking open her fan. “Another group traveled nearly the same route as we, a group of amiable young gentlemen.”
I swatted her arm. “Sarah! You ought to have started with that.”
She winked. “Ah, but I was saving that little tidbit for you.”
“So did any of the amiable young gentleman catch your attention?”
“None in particular. Though it made for an entertaining trip.” She leaned her head closer to mine. “I did hear we’ve a new arrival in town. A dashing lieutenant, from the rumors. Perhaps he shall be the one to finally catch my eye.”
My stomach constricted, the same feeling that had come over me when I’d read Edward’s letter earlier. Then I’d been jealous to have missed a party with both him and Marjorie. I hadn’t any reason to feel the same way now.
“Have you met him already?” Sarah said, examining me. “Perhaps I do not wish to meet him, based on your expression.”
I forced my face to relax. “I have met him.”
“And?” she prompted. “Is he handsome?”
“I—I hardly know.” How could I discuss one man’s good looks while being engaged to another? “He is not unattractive, in any case.”
She glanced about the crowded room, the crush growing every second. “Is he here? Do point him out. I shall have to beg an introduction from you later.”
I rose up on my toes. It was better for me to know where he was so I could prepare myself for when he came to claim me for our set. “I haven’t seen him yet.” I spun slowly to see all the corners of the room. Then I froze.
Lieutenant Avery stood not five feet from me, hands clasped behind him as he met my eyes. I’d had my back to him. And from his raised eyebrow, I realized he had heard everything we’d said.
“Good evening, Miss Rowley,” he said.
I slammed shut my open mouth. This was not how I imagined starting the evening.
Sarah turned and grasped the situation in an instant. “It appears I shall have to beg that introduction now,” she said as she flashed a charming smile.
There was nothing for it. “Lieutenant Avery, might I present my friend Sarah Mason?”
Lieutenant Avery bowed. “A pleasure, Miss Mason.”
“It is indeed,” Sarah said with a low curtsy, eyeing the man as though he was a new bonnet in a shop window.
The musicians began tuning their instruments, and Lieutenant Avery glanced away. Sarah elbowed me sharply. “Not unattractive?” she whispered. “Quite the understatement.”
I glared at her but did not have time to form a retort as the lieutenant turned back to us.
“I hope you have not forgotten that you promised me the second set, Miss Rowley,” he said in that even tone of his.
I cleared my throat. “I haven’t forgotten.”
He nodded. “And, Miss Mason, would you honor me with the supper set?”
“I would indeed,” she said smoothly. “I look forward to it.”
He gave another short bow and moved away. My lungs finally loosened in my chest. I’d been so taken aback at seeing him behind me that I’d not remembered to put any of my ideas into action. And how perfectly horrid was he for eavesdropping on us?
But perhaps this might work to my advantage. Perhaps he thought me a vapid gossip. Calling him “not unattractive” was not precisely a compliment.
Sarah looked as though she wished to pry every last bit of information from me, but before she could, Mr. Tilton asked her to dance.
“I’ll have questions for you later,” she whispered as she was led off.
Of course she would. Because why should anything be uncomplicated tonight?
I was asked to dance not a minute later by Mr. Downing, a rather quiet young man who was employed as a clerk by the town’s solicitor. I spent a few useless minutes trying to pry a conversation from him before giving up and dancing in silence punctuated by polite smiles.
Thankfully, I was not disappointed in watching Lieutenant Avery dance with Miss Follett. She wore an overly fussy gown with a great deal of ruffles and bows, and her bosom strained against the bodice as if the dress had been made for a woman a few inches slimmer. She never stopped talking, and it was vastly amusing to see Lieutenant Avery’s face change from careful politeness to barely concealed annoyance over the course of the set. Miss Follett was the perfect inspiration for me tonight. Shooting arrows at the lieutenant would not drive him off any faster than her incessant prattling.
The second dance ended, and the dancers applauded the orchestra. As Mr. Downing led me from the dance floor, I reviewed my plan, preparing myself for the role I was to play.
Lieutenant Avery would never wish to dance with me again after tonight, of that I was certain.
Chapter Eight
When Lieutenant Avery came to claim me a few minutes later, I was ready.
“Miss Rowley,” he said as greeting.
“There you are, Lieutenant,” I said, layering impatience into my voice. “I’ve been waiting ever so long. I thought the dance would begin without us.”
In truth, only a few couples had already found their places on the floor. But finding flaws was first on my list of “Ways to Drive Lieutenant Avery Mad.”
He furrowed his brow, but I did not allow him time for a response as I took his arm without invitation and pulled him to the dance floor.
“How did you enjoy your dance with Miss Follett?” I asked. “She is such a dear, is she not? I count her as one of my closest friends.” He certainly did not know either of us well enough to gather if that was true or not. He opened his mouth to speak, but I hurried on. “Oh, how lucky we are to dance the reel,” I exclaimed. “I adore dancing, don’t you?”
I’d surmised from his comments during our last meeting that he hadn’t planned on attending the assembly, which indicated he disliked either dancing or socializing. So I would give him the worst of both.
The music began, and I threw myself wholeheartedly into the steps. This never would have worked with a waltz, but the high-spirited reel was perfect. Whenever Lieutenant Avery took my hands as the dance dictated, I stepped forward with too much energy, trouncing his feet and then apologizing profusely. I had to bite my lip several times to keep from laughing at his bewildered expression. That was, he was bewildered whenever he wasn’t in pain from all the trouncing.
When I wasn’t dancing abhorrently, I was talking abhorrently.
“Have you seen the newest fashions from this Season?” I asked without expecting any sort of answer. “Mama says the more voluminous sleeves are not at all flattering, but I find I am partial to the look. I’ve several dresses made recently that I think would be vastly improved by the new style, so I shall have them remade.”
There. Let him think me wasteful and extravagant. That would rankle against his sensibilities as a navy man, where his pay was insignificant without the added income from prizes.
“Miss Rowley, I think—”
“
Oh, and the cravats,” I interrupted quickly, thwarting Lieutenant Avery’s useless attempt to enter my one-sided conversation. “You’ve been at sea, so you cannot be acquainted with what the men are wearing these days in London. But there are several new knots that are stunning in their intricacy. I daresay many gentlemen require a good half hour for their valets to adequately complete such a fine choice in fashion.”
Lieutenant Avery narrowed his eyes. His own cravat was tied in a simple knot, which I actually preferred to the ridiculous designs I’d seen this Season.
We parted with the movement of the dance, and I had a few moments to take a deep breath. The assembly was a veritable crush, quite thankfully. If the dance floor had been any less crowded, I might have drawn some attention with my behavior. As it was, I was glad to have escaped any close observation. Being this absurd was exhausting, but I knew my plan was working. The lieutenant hadn’t been able to get a word in edgewise, which must be irking him. He was an officer, accustomed to people listening to—and obeying—him.
When we met hands again, I leaped back into conversation. “Did you hear about—”
“Miss Rowley.” He cut me off before I was able to share my gossip about how much Mrs. Follett’s parlor renovations had cost. “I wanted to ask if you had been ill these past few days.”
I faltered in my steps. “Ill? Why would you ask that? I am the picture of health.”
“I haven’t seen you riding, which I imagined was a daily activity for you.”
It certainly was. But since our meeting when I’d jumped the hedge, I’d taken to riding the opposite end of Havenfield’s lands.
I tried for a superior tone. “Havenfield is a vast estate, Lieutenant Avery.” Perhaps a bit of snobbishness would aid my cause. “I could ride for days without seeing a soul.”
It was a ridiculous exaggeration and perhaps too much, but he did not say a word as he led me through the next steps. My fingers itched in his, and I looked away.
I spent the rest of the dance speaking on safer, duller topics: my preference for pink over blue in my wardrobe, how tedious I found country life, and my newfound passion for embroidery. All false, and all quite effective, it seemed. After a quarter hour of debating what type of flower I ought to stitch on my next handkerchief, Lieutenant Avery stopped attempting to interrupt and instead bore my comments with admirable stoicism.
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