A Farm Girl's Despair (#5, the Winds of Misery Victorian Romance) (A Family Saga Novel)

by Dorothy Green

  Delicate white linen cloth hemmed with dainty rose lace covered the small tea tables. Tiered silver trays sparkled in the sun light and were adorned with biscuits, small pies, and fresh fruit. The tea emanated a delicious heady scent from a white and blue china tea set, complete with dainty cups and saucers that must be quite expensive, Hilda thought.

  A valet served tea into the tea cups with one arm regally resting behind his back as the gentlemen thanked him for his service. But Hilda was only pretending to pay all her attentions to the tea service in front of her; it was false, for her attention was much more agreeably engaged elsewhere – on the MP of Cornwall, of course.

  He sat at her side, speaking across to the next table at Mr Crossbury, allowing Hilda to peruse him without his knowledge. She saw just how dashing he was in his black waist coat, fall front pantaloons, and riding boots. He was very tall, even when seated, and his dark hair was dishevelled from removing his riding hat. She rather liked it that way.

  The table became quiet and he turned to look at her. “How do you find the tea, Miss Layles?”

  “Oh, I confess I have not tried it yet,” she picked up the cup and realized he stared at her mouth as she lifted the cup to it. Anyone would say it was scandalous and spark many rumours and idle gossip, but alas there was no one to see such a display. Even her sister and Adam Crossbury were engaged in their own quiet conversation.

  Hilda knew that she could not stop, but she made a very small sip and was quick to place the cup back down on the saucer. “It is very pleasant.”

  “Good, I am glad you approve,” he smiled and reached out for silver tongs and placed a few biscuits on the plate in front of him. He had such a vivacious energy that would draw in anyone. Then he placed a two biscuits on the plate in front of her. “Please eat. You must have need of the sustenance after besting me at horses.”

  “Yes, I suppose that I do,” she said.

  “And what a fine day it is for besting me,” he teased.

  “Yes such a beautiful day should have many poems and sonnets written about it, should it not?”

  “And do you have such a poem?” he asked.

  “I do not, sir.”

  “Then I shall dedicate this to this fine day. The day walks in beauty, like the night. Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright. Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellow'd to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.”

  Hilda gasped with smile. “Lord Byron.”

  “Yes, very good, Miss Layles,” Ross smiled. “You know his work?”

  “I read as much as I may get my hands on. I think him a very accomplished poet indeed.”

  “As do I. I hope that we will all be blessed with being able to read more of his works in the future. I think he will make his mark on the world yet,” Ross smiled.

  “As do I, sir,” she said, taking another sip of her tea in order to conceal her excitement. How could this man possibly become more perfect? Now he was reciting her favourite poet to her and she was beside herself in notions of romanticism. Why could this not be happening before his engagement? It was overwhelming and she would have to remind herself that though she could never hold his heart, perhaps she could be a good life-long friend. She would have to make do with such a path for them.

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  chapter

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  “I used to write poetry when I was a young boy, but gave up on the matter altogether. It is not the place for a MP of Cornwall that has an estate to run with tenants that rely on him for their livelyhood to divulge in such things that waste time... or so my father says,” Ross said with a slight frown.

  It was the first time that Hilda had ever seen such an expression on his face since their reacquaintance. He too fiddled with the linen cloth and looked down, as though his father were standing there scolding him and he were once again a young boy. Hilda realized she was not the only one at the table with controlling parents.

  “And you? Do you write your own poetry, Miss Layles? He asked.

  “Indeed I do, sir. Though it is mine to keep private. I show no one and do not ever intend to. It is something that I keep for myself,” she answered quickly and then felt foolish for revealing such a thing.

  The smile came upon his face once more. “Then I respect you for continuing to work on your passions and for no one’s approval other than your own. Perhaps I will heed such a notion as advice and once again set ink to paper myself.”

  Hilda smiled and nodded. She was very glad to have such an effect on the MP of Cornwall and to have earned his respect in way that was more than just besting him at horses. It surprised her that she was able to open up to him so readily, more than her mother or father, that was indeed true.

  She watched as he turned to look at Adam and her sister. Gemma had a radiant smile on her face as she and Adam conversed quietly.

  “He is a good man, you can trust in that,” Ross said quietly to Hilda leaning in so that only she could hear.

  She had to bite her tongue in order to keep herself from saying – are you? But she knew that she could not say such a thing, for that would bring up his engagement and she did not want to sour the time they were sharing. She also did not feel entitled to such a notion of judgement as for all the MP of Cornwall was doing was having company, and nothing more.

  “I am glad for it. My sister’s happiness and treatment means much to me,” Hilda said.

  “Yes, I can see that you are quite close. Such a thing is to be treasured and I hope that this will mean that we will be seeing more of each other.”

  Hilda’s cup clattered on the small saucer. “What do you mean, sir?”

  “I mean that since your sister will be enjoying the company of Mr Crossbury that our paths might cross again, you and I, since he is a good friend of mine, and she is your sister. Not to mention that I have been neglecting my visits with the Layles family all together for years now,” he said, arching a brow at her.

  “Oh, yes... yes... of course. I understand your meaning,” she said blushing.

  “What pray did you think I...”

  “Hilda. We should be heading back soon,” Gemma said loudly interrupting, and Hilda was very glad for the timing of it.

  “Oh yes, of course sister,” Hilda said. “I am ready when you are.”

  A few minutes later, Adam Crossbury ordered the valet to have the Layles carriage brought around the entrance building. Then the two men escorted the women to the main entrance. Hilda was silent as she walked beside Ross and behind her sister and Adam. She could not bear to look at Ross in the eyes after her fumble of words. She was too embarrassed to do so, though she could feel his eyes on her the entire walk.

  “There it is, right on time,” Gemma said as they walked out of the front entrance to the circular pebble stone drive as the carriage pulled up.

  Adam took position directly in front of Gemma and bowed, taking her hand in his. “Miss Layles, you have given me such a pleasant afternoon. I dare say it is the most pleasure I have had in a long while. I thank you kindly for your company.”

  “And I thank you again for the invitation, sir,” she said.

  Then Ross took the same position in front of Hilda. She held her breath. Would he take her hand in the same manner? For she did not know if she could withstand such a heated moment, even with her hand gloved by her riding gloves.

  Ross bowed. “Miss Layles, a pleasure.”

  Hilda curtsied. “And good day to you, sir.”

  Then Ross moved away from her to bid farewell to her sister.

  Is that all? Hilda thought, but before she could feel remorse for the lack of attention, Adam stood in front of her bowing and bidding farewell. Adam helped the sisters into the carriage and they were off.

  Hilda was conflicted, for she very much wanted something more substantial from Ross, but if he had done the like, she would find him to be a scoundrel for doing so because of his engagement. Her brows furrowed toge
ther as she thought about this with her eyes on the two gentlemen as the carriage pulled away.

  “Well then, I am glad that Captain Brookend came. For having closer relations with the man that is your charge will be good for you, to know a MP of Cornwall on closer acquaintance; perhaps we will be invited to his wedding ceremony with Miss Woodley. But I dare say you should stay away from him as much as possible until then.”

  “What? Whatever do you mean, Gemma?”

  “I mean that he is quite flirtatious. I should never see a man be so flirtatious with a woman the way he was with you, when he is already engaged. It borders on scandal. I feel sorry for Miss Woodley. He seems a scoundrel disguised as a gentleman, though I would not expect better behaviour from a MP of Cornwall. I am sure that he has always had anything that he has wanted. I dare say that my sister will not be one of those things.”

  “Gemma!” Hilda gasped.

  “What ,Hilda? I am just looking out for you. The MP of Cornwall is quite dashing and I see that he took your challenge for a race as quite flirtatious, and so he has possibly received a message that you might be up for further games.”

  “No, that is not what I...”

  “Oh, I know dear Hilda that was not your intention, but you are still too young to think of how men like him regard such things. I, however, know quite well. It is best to stay away from him all together. He does not seem like a good sort of man, but one of indulgence.”

  Hilda opened her mouth to protest, but she knew that it was of no use. Gemma had made up her mind about the character of the MP of Cornwall, and she knew deep down that it was wrong of him to be flirtatious when already engaged to another. She did not want to think of the man of affections to be a bad sort of man, but she knew that it was possible it could be true. She turned her head to gaze out of the window and stop tears from forming in her eyes.

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  chapter

  3 2

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  When all had turned in for bed that night, Hilda resigned herself to allow all her feelings to bleed onto the pages of her diary, for who else could absorb her words?

  Today was an astonishment indeed, for who else would be standing next to Mr Crossbury waiting for our arrival than none other than the MP of Cornwall himself! I was beside myself! I knew of their acquaintance, for Mr Crossbury had mentioned such a thing, but why ever would he be with Adam Crossbury on such an occasion? I never would have guessed it, and yet there he was, looking as dashing as ever.

  But I must confess, and only confess to these pages, that my heart leapt for joy at the sight of him. How I have longed for him again since I were younger, and now it seems to have occurred. But what poor timing for the man is engaged to another. This was something I had to remind myself of all day long for I spoke and interacted with him as though we ourselves were courting something that I should be ashamed of. But is it so wrong of me to indulge just a little of something I have wished for, for years? I cannot help that my heart runs away in the moment.

  However, Gemma did seem to notice and gave me an ardent warning that Mr Brookend cannot possibly be a good sort of man because of the attentions he lavished upon me and I must admit that she is right on the matter. Yet I will always hold in my heart the events of this day. How we raced in the fields, the tea conversation, and most romantic of all the MP of Cornwall reciting of one of my most favourite poems. Oh, the day should be any lady’s dream, if it were not for the fact that it was with a man engaged to another. I shall allow myself a few more days to indulge in these memories and then leave them here on the page, never to invade my thoughts and give me false hopes again.

  Hilda sighed, and allowed the ink to dry as she moved to the window and looked out over the garden. Ross’s radiant smile flashed in her mind, torturing her ever more.

  The next morning, Hilda sat with her sister at her side in the parlour partaking in tea with her mother. Mrs Layles had the most detailed questions to ask Gemma, which were a repeat of the questions she had already asked after they returned from their ride the next day. Indeed it was almost as if Mrs Layles were more excited than Gemma about the day of riding with Mr Crossbury.

  But Hilda was very gracious toward her sister for not repeating the event about speaking with Ross Brookend at the ball. She was very grateful for her sister's confidence in such a thing, but Mrs Layles did know that the MP of Cornwall had accompanied them on their ride.

  “Oh, if only the MP of Cornwall were not already engaged, perhaps he would take a liking to you Hilda, now that you are a woman, or perhaps even steal Gemma away from Mr Crossbury. Regardless, it is very good that he was there in attendance with both of you. This will greatly elevate our status in society for being acquainted with such a man of nobility. I am sure that we will now receive an invitation for his forthcoming wedding, indeed it will be very fine to attend such an event.” She rattled on.

  Hilda stared out the window as her mother continued to talk about Ross, she knew that it would not be easy for her to forget him now that her mother had latched onto furthering and strengthening the acquaintance and using it to her full advantage.

  The door opened and the maid Sarah stepped in, holding a silver tray with a letter upon it.

  “This just came for Miss Gemma,” She said standing in front of Gemma. A big smile came upon her face as she took the letter.

  “Thank you Sarah, that will be all,” She said.

  “Well hurry child, who is it from? What does it say?” Mrs Layles said moving in front of Gemma standing and hovering over her. “Please tell me it is not from your friend Katrina, for it will give me false hopes. Hurry child hurry, make haste.

  Gemma broke the wax seal and opened the letter. “It is from Mr Crossbury. He is inviting us to dine with him in two days’ time at his home near Westminster. Oh, say we can go, Mother.” Gemma said.

  “Of course, dear. We do not have any engagements this week. What a fine thing to be so quickly invited to dine with him, and for him to invite the whole family. This is very good news indeed. You must write a response quickly and accept, this way he does not think you are not interested and invites another woman in your stead.” Mrs Layles said.

  “Yes of course. Oh Mother, what should I wear? What will we all wear?” Gemma said.

  “Let us go upstairs to pick out a dress; this is very important indeed. The man obviously fancies you to be inviting you so soon. And you too, Hilda, I will pick out your wardrobe and make sure that you look inviting.”

  “Inviting! Mama? How can you say such a thing,” Hilda said. But her mother continued, paying no heed to Hilda’s objections.

  “For I am sure that Mr Crossbury will have gentlemen of his acquaintance in attendance at this dinner and you must not pass up the opportunity to make one your husband. Pray I hope that the MP of Cornwall is in attendance as well, to be able to say that we dined privately with the MP of Cornwall will do our family much credit. Now Gemma, set at the writing desk and make your reply that the entire family will be graciously accepting the invitation.”

  “Yes Mama, I shall.” Gemma stood up and walked to the writing desk against the window in the parlour. She gave Hilda a brilliant smile. Hilda smiled back and nodded, giving her sister encouragement toward her happiness.

  But in truth Hilda was restraining herself from trembling. Throughout the announcement of the invitation she held back shock and astonishment for she did not want to attend this dinner. What if her mother was correct and the MP of Cornwall was in attendance? She could not bear to sit with him at dinner in front of everyone. For they will see that there is an attraction between them and it will be a scandal. What if Miss Woodley his fiancé is in attendance as well, and Hilda then has to pretend that there is no link between her and the MP of Cornwall, would she be able to? She would not be able to hide her affection so easily. Miss Woodley would see right through her and call her out on it, or create idle gossip behind her that would spread like wild fire tarnishing her reputation. There were a myriad of
things that could go wrong, and it was already giving her great pretence to not want to attend the dinner. Perhaps when the time came she could pretend to have a serious headache and not get out of bed. Though she knew that her mother would force her to attend simply to partake in prospects of marriage. It was all vexing indeed.

  Two days later, the Layles family made their way to Westminster. Hilda and Gemma sat side-by-side with their parents across from them in the carriage. They were all dressed quite elegantly. Hilda smoothed the fabric of her bright red satin dress with a very low-cut cleavage, a dress that her mother insisted upon her wearing. Hilda was not used to such an attention catching clothing. She fidgeted, feeling quite exposed.

  A pearl necklace called attention to her cleavage, in a manner that made her feel vulnerable. To match, her hair was piled at the back of her head with ringlets coming off of her head that dangled every time she moved. Black feathers were pushed into her hair and fanned out to the left side of her. Pearl earrings dangled from her ears to match her necklace. Black satin gloves moved up to her elbows, and it was not a sort of dress that she had in her wardrobe previously, it was one that her mother had her purchased once they realize they had nothing to wear to such a regal dinner.

  Therefore once again they made their way to Bond Street and purchased new clothing, including the dress that Gemma wore. Her dress was much more modest, her mother insisted on her wearing pure white in order to look the part of a bride. It was a beautiful dress in white silk with lace trim, very delicate. A white band of lace encircled her head, with her hair piled in ringlets. She wore a simple cameo amulet tied on with white silk ribbon. She looked pure and innocent, and it only made Hilda look that much more scandalous.

  Her mother wore a satin green dress embellished with all kinds of embroidery and beadwork that was so busy it was hard to know what was going on in the patterns. Yellow and green feathers stuck out from her elaborate hairdo. While their father was elegant in a black tailcoat, grey chequered waistcoat, and black pantaloons with polished shoes.