He had embroiled himself in a thoughtless deception which would separate him forever from the only woman he could imagine wanting for his wife. Worse than that, he was acutely aware that his actions had caused her pain. He could hope that her heart was not so deeply engaged as his own, but he could not pretend that her feelings towards him were entirely neutral. She had called him “James” at that miserable inn, and in such a tone to her voice that his desperate anger had melted away from him. He would never forget that. But then she had closed herself away from him again, evading his questions, lapsing into silence on the ride back to Lynnfield, and shutting herself in her room once she returned home. And he had plunged back into a kind of dazed hopelessness, which had quickly expressed itself as righteous anger at Charles. Well, Charles had certainly earned his anger, but truth to tell, the greatest share of his fury was directed at himself.
It remained to him to prove himself her friend. He would see to it that she and her father were kept comfortable and safe at Lynnfield until the old gentleman’s inevitable demise, and he would make every effort to assist her in whatever she chose to do after that. And he would do whatever was in his power to ensure that her sister’s Season was successful. For these purposes, the sale of the talisman would be his first priority upon reaching London.
After that, well, distance and time would provide healing for any hurt she had suffered, and if that same distance and time proved to be a torment to him, it was no more than he deserved, and well he knew it.
Thus resolved, he entered the bustle of London that afternoon and within an hour of his arrival had safely delivered the talisman and business papers into Mr. Thompson’s hands. Mr. Thompson examined the heart with great excitement. The gems, he said, appeared to be of the highest quality, and despite the vulgarity of the design, he assured Captain Howard that the clear provenance of historical authenticity contained in the documents accompanying it would assure them a very high price indeed. Well just imagine! This heart had been the design of King Henry the Eighth himself and he had with his very own royal hands bestowed it upon Kathryn Howard. Romance, history, treasure! This artifact had everything a true collector would desire. He could scarce contain his glee at the prospect of writing to several eminent personages whom he could assure the Captain would be quick bid the price up in their eagerness to acquire the heart for their collections.
He bestowed the heart and its papers in a massive safe in his office and then referred to his notes on the entail. Though he could not help but think it a pity that the family should part with such a valuable treasure, he assured the Captain that it was indeed within the bounds of legality and that since the money would go to removing all encumbrances from the Lynnfield estates, he considered the sale not only legal, but also clearly the most ethical course of action for them to take.
Thus reassured, and following the advice of the ever helpful Mr. Thompson, James soon located a set of rooms in a modest lodging house on Half Moon street, where he set up bachelor quarters that would become his home for the immediate future. He had visited London on several occasions before, coming during the holidays as a boisterous young student in his college days, and then once after his parents’ death, to settle his fathers’ affairs. But most of his life before the army, outside of his years at Harrow, had been spent in the town of Oxford, both as the son of an Oxford Don and as a student. This was to be a new and different chapter indeed. He stood at his window and looked out at London town, but inevitably his thoughts turned to Lynnfield.
And at Lynnfield many were thinking of London. Indeed the entire neighborhood was agog with news of Town, for it was no more than a few hours after the Viscount and the Captain had started off on their separate ways that word came from travelers bound outward from London that the strange black fog had caused great distress throughout the London area. Chudleigh reported to Elaine that the Birmingham coach had taken a full seven hours only to make it to Uxbridge. Travelers had been stranded; deliveries of produce had been delayed; families had gone without food. Why even the Prince Regent himself had had to abandon a trip to Hatfield House, turned back by the wretched fog.
Elaine was grateful for the sheer quantity of stories surrounding the phenomenon, which allowed her own misadventure to recede quickly into the background, one incident hidden among many others that occurred during a time of shared difficulties.
The winter was a cold one, with snow then a brief thaw, then more cold and ice with show on top. Mr. Howard was often tired and inclined to spend his days sitting by the fire in his own bed chamber rather than in the Green Parlor. Word came in mid-January from Mr. Thompson advising that he had received an excellent price on the sale of the rare books and reporting that he was currently presiding over a spirited exchange of bids for the talisman by five different collectors. Mr. Howard shared this news with his daughters, who could scarce believe that their fortunes had changed so dramatically in just a few short weeks. Still there was the Season to get through and therefore gowns to be sewn, for though there was promise for the future, at present they found themselves as penny pinched as ever.
Anne found she no longer minded, for the gowns accumulating in her wardrobe were as beautiful and enchanting to behold as any she might hope to have purchased in Town. Libby’s embroidery especially was exquisite, and such detailed hand work would have cost a small fortune. She found the short winter days indoors, working with her sister and their two good friends, a comfort, for she could talk about her fears and concerns with them openly and get both reassurance and advice in a companionable setting that made her feel more an equal partner in the conversation, rather than a mere schoolroom miss being instructed in deportment.
She had exchanged several letters with Alicia Wentworth and already felt that in her she would found a good supportive companion. Alicia’s baby was due soon, and she was thrilled to know that she would be able to visit the nursery at St. James’s Square whenever she felt a need to escape from the press of ballroom dancing and parties. Of course Aunt Katherine’s children were dears, and she knew she would grow to love them, but a new baby was something else altogether.
Sir Edmond Pace took advantage of another brief thaw in early February to drive out to visit them and to assure himself that the promised Season would indeed take place as planned. Anne was delighted to see him and loaded him down with many messages for his sister as well as a little embroidered cap for the baby over which she had taken great pains. Elaine sent her love as well, along with a soft white nightgown for the little one and a lace cap for its mother.
Sir Edmond promised to deliver their messages and gifts to Alicia and stayed longer than was his custom, enjoying a nice comfortable coze with both sisters, entering once more into all of Anne’s plans for the Season and promising to look her up as soon as she came to Town and to take her driving in the park on his high perch phaeton and furthermore to take her to explore the sights of London whenever she wished. He made an effort to persuade Elaine to stay for more of the Season than presently planned but to this Elaine would not agree, shaking her head with a smile and reminding him that their father’s health was not good.
“Oh, I know that, my dear,” Sir Edmund replied, “But somehow I think there is more to your reluctance than you are telling me.” Anne saw his brow furrow slightly in concern and, repressing a little sympathetic sigh at what she was certain was clear testament to his continuing devotion to her sister, wondered if Elaine’s recent misadventure might not make her more amenable to her old friend’s suit.
Elaine saw the same look of concern and resolved for the one hundredth time not to be such a goose and to make a stronger effort at disguising her emotions. “Oh, do I seem blue-deviled to you? You may rest easy on that head. It is so gloomy here this time of year, with the days so short and the snow so daunting, that I confess I do sometimes feel a little low. But it is of no moment. I do not stay low very long before some new task comes to hand to give me energy. And Anne of course is very like the sunshi
ne itself, and one cannot mope for long while she’s about.”
Sir Edmund smiled and agreed, making Anne quite blush with embarrassment and pleasure, and talk turned to other matters. He left both sisters well satisfied with the visit, for different reasons, the one excited by the prospect of a new friendship and the other pleased at seeing her sister blossom in anticipation of her Season.
There were a few other callers from Town, mostly repeats from the previous October of those most eager to make a favorable impression on the prospective heiress.
Mr. Thompson wrote again, informing them that the talisman had sold for an exorbitant amount, and as agreed upon, the mortgages were lifted, making the full extent of rents due now available for their use. Elaine continued to channel the bulk of the rent monies back into Lynnfield, improving the lands and making those repairs to the house that could be accomplished in the harsh winter weather without disrupting her father’s routines. However, several new servants were added to the staff. The rooms were dusted more often, the brasses polished, and the older linens replaced. In the garden, as soon as the weather permitted, the rosebushes were pruned and the flower beds were weeded and mulched and made ready for the approaching spring. Lynnfield began to look more as it had in her childhood days.
Mr. Thompson also reported that he had set up a fund for Mary Hastings which would provide her with a steady income, but Mary insisted that she would still act as Anne’s abigail for the Season, which made Anne feel relieved, for she thought it would feel very strange indeed to be waited upon by someone she did not know.
In the second week of February, they put off their mourning for Giles. At her father’s insistence, Elaine commissioned Chudleigh to purchase a couple of riding horses for herself and Anne, and once the weather began to ease a little, they began to make calls upon their old friends among the neighboring gentry. It was odd, thought Elaine, how she had longed to be able to do all of these things, but now that she was able, she remained caught in a kind of dreamlike sense of gloom – a fog thicker and blacker even than the one she had survived the past December. Although she did her best to present a placid exterior, she knew very well what lay behind her state of mind.
Her cousin, Captain James Howard, had written to her in the most respectful terms, limiting himself strictly as to subject matter. He wrote to her about the steps he was taking to assist in the repairs she was making at Lynnfield. He wrote about the mood of the town as it recuperated from the dreadful fog, and assured her that the distress caused by the event was already well behind them and there would be no disruption of the Queen’s Drawing Room scheduled in March that was to begin Anne’s Season. He wrote good news of the war in France and not such happy news from America. What he did not write about was anything that might remind her of what had taken place between them. He wrote as a stranger and not as her dear friend. And although that is what she had once thought she wanted, what she still felt she ought to want, she found herself hungering for just a word, a thought, a misplaced comma that would indicate that he continued to think kindly of her.
She blushed when she remembered what a trimming down she had given him and the Viscount in the library – the last conversation that they had had other than a few idle exchanges at dinner. Such a termagant he must have thought her. The Viscount’s speculation had come true - a bad tempered female indeed! She had been managing and proud throughout their acquaintance, failing even to acknowledge his courage and determination in coming to rescue her. Indeed that morning she had been overjoyed to see him, her relief so great that she had called out his name. But had she even thanked him? No, she thought she had said scarcely a word to him on the long cold drive home, and then when they were at last at Lynnfield, she had retreated from him, again without a word of thanks or indeed any sign of gratitude. Had she thanked him later? She had not. Instead she had scolded him for being cross with her abductor! She had prodded him to reconcile with his friend when she had not been willing to forgive in her turn. She had mocked him when he had cried out his sense of betrayal, ignoring his hurt spirit while blaming him for hers.
He was certainly well rid of her. Quite likely once she had removed herself to Bath and he was established at Lynnfield, she would see no more of him. He deserved a better natured wife, so it was an excellent thing that he had not vouchsafed to make any proposal of marriage to her.
So she would do as she had always intended. She would live in her own home with her two dear friends and teach children to read and do their sums. She would go to the lending libraries and take walks and lead a quiet life doing exactly as she pleased whenever she pleased and not be subject to any man’s whims.
Thus resolved, she went about her household tasks with a determinedly cheerful countenance, but she carried inside her heart the black fog of December.
A similar fog dwelled within James. He had now spent more than a month in London town, and although it was really too early for any of the grand parties of the Season, he found himself unexpectedly busy with invitations to any manner of entertainment, none of which lifted the despondency that he nurtured in his heart. At first he had refused all invitations, instead calling upon Mr. Thompson almost daily to see what he could do to be of assistance. As his second week in town got under way, Mr. Thompson politely suggested that one visit per week would be more than sufficient and assured the Captain that he would send word immediately if some need of his services arose in between calls.
Charles arrived in town less than a fortnight after James, and very soon called upon his former comrade at arms. “I know I’m the last person you wish to see right now, James, but really this won’t do at all. If you refuse any more invitations, people will soon stop sending them. Why, you’ve already begun to establish yourself as an eccentric. It will not do at all. People want to meet you.”
“No one ever seemed to care to meet me before,” James answered.
“Well stands to reason they didn’t. Who were you after all, but some bookish young man with a few distinguished relatives? Not much to bother about there. But now you’re the heir to Lynnfield, and with that man of business touting that talisman about like he is, well you’re about to become a most eligible parti. You’ll be ‘The’ Mr. Howard of Lynnfield soon enough, and all the mamas are eager to see if you’ll do for their daughters.”
“Well I won’t do for any of them,” James replied shortly.
“Well, no. I see what you mean, not after Miss Howard, and quite right, too. But really, James, don’t you think the Howards have had enough gossip circulating without you wearing your heart upon your sleeve and adding to the nonsense? The last thing the Howards need is for the new heir to become an on dit too, with people talking about how he came away from Lynnfield all in a pother and has turned into a recluse.”
“Oh Lord!” James groaned. “Will I never get it right?”
“You’re green, that’s all, James. It takes a little time to understand how the ton works. Now I happen to have a small card party going on this evening over at White,s. You take my word for it, come and play a few hands, make a few jokes, and the tongues will stop wagging soon enough. Are you a member, by the way?”
“Yes. For a friend of my father’s introduced me both there and at Watier’s shortly before you and I bought our colors. But I’ve only been to White’s the once, and that was some years ago.”
“Well that’s all right then. Come around at eleven. “
“I’m not ready to forget what you did, Charles.”
“Well of course not. Damn fool thing to do if I say so myself. I don’t expect you to forgive me. Don’t forgive myself.” Charles face was a little red and he avoided James’ eyes. “I’m not inviting you for your sake, anyway, James, but for the goddess.”
“Goddess?” James asked, confused.
“The goddess Diana. I mean Miss Howard, of course. Don’t want her made uncomfortable, you see. Don’t suppose you do either. Got to do what we can, even if it ain’t much.”
And s
ince that sentiment was so very much in accord with what he had been feeling, James accepted the invitation, and the next day went round to Jackson’s Boxing Saloon with one of his new acquaintances to engage in some pugilistic exercise. Gradually his days and nights filled up with social events – card parties, afternoon teas, rides in the park, visits to the theatre. Once he joined a friend at the cockfights, but he found that his military career in Spain had spoiled him for such bloody entertainments, and since he found little pleasure in gambling where no skill of his own was involved and where he had no chance to affect the outcome, he did not repeat that experience.
He developed a reputation with the gentlemen as a good companion with a quick wit and moderate tastes, and despite his small size, some considerable skill at the more martial sports. He was no more than an adequate swordsman, but had a quick left jab that made him show to advantage at the newest rage of boxing, and he was a keen marksman as well. He had light hands and a comfortable way with horses, both as a rider and a whip, and if he was not quite equal to the high standards of the Corinthian set, still he was a good cut above the average. He could tell a lively story, frequently with himself as the butt of the joke, and though it was clear he was a gentleman of some considerable learning, he did not appear to think that a matter of much import, so that those gentlemen who were not inclined to scholarship never felt slighted or discounted.
The ladies pitied him for his fumbling conversation, but were pleased to invite him to their parties, for although he was not handsome, he dressed with quiet good taste and could be counted on, when invited to do so by his hostess, to sit for some minutes with some neglected young lady with a pasty complexion or an older one bordering on spinsterhood and, in his awkward and kindly way, entertain her, freeing their hostess to look after her more amusing guests.
An Unmarried Lady Page 21