by Jane Ashford
William pondered, his spoon vertical in his fist. “I don’t know that.”
The others made derisive noises.
“But I do know that Mama was different today.”
“Different?” echoed Susan.
“Yes. Something has happened. You could tell. I don’t know what, but that is the reason we are going home, and I don’t believe it had anything to do with us.”
“Stuff!” replied Susan, bending to offer Daisy a bit of bread. But Nick looked thoughtful.
The day passed quietly for the Goring household, seeming shorter because of the late start. Anabel stayed at home, sitting in the drawing room and pretending to write letters. She actually spent most of the afternoon simply rehearsing the events of the past few weeks and marveling over the outcome. Occasionally she worried about what she would say to Norbury, but since she did not have to face him until the morning, she usually put such thoughts aside. Christopher was much more often in her mind, and at these times a dreamy smile played about her mouth and she forgot everything but memories of what had passed between them.
Lady Goring and Georgina went out shopping late in the afternoon, returning only in time to change for their early dinner. Though Anabel had said nothing to her, Lady Goring was certain that there had been important developments. And the fact that Christopher Hanford was coming to dinner encouraged her greatly. She did not broach the subject, however, fearing to say something wrong and mar the delicate equilibrium she sensed. Mr. Hanford could be trusted to arrange things, she felt. She had been further impressed by his strength of character in the last few days.
Georgina was the first down that evening. She had changed quickly to escape the chatter of her maid, which was all of Mr. Hanford’s heroism. Her emotions had been unsettled all day, since she had seen the serene happiness on Anabel’s face, so unlike her previous hectic gaiety. Something had happened, she was certain, and it had made her own blunder last night insignificant. But she did not know what, and the mystery made her restless.
She knew that Christopher would never care for her. She had accepted it. But his fate was still very important to her; she thought of him a great deal of the time.
A movement caught her eye, and she started. She had been pacing the drawing-room carpet as she thought, and it was her own reflection in the glass that had attracted her attention. Moving closer, she surveyed it. This was not the Georgina Goring who had come to London. Her father would hardly recognize her. She had shed all of her plumpness by this time; the gray eyes that looked into the mirror seemed large, with unaccustomed depths. In her modish pink gown, with her blond hair dressed à la Diane by Lady Goring’s maid, she seemed wholly changed. And it was only right, she thought, for she felt a completely different person, too. So much had happened to her since she came reluctantly up to town.
“Good evening, Miss Goring,” said a male voice from the door.
She whirled to find Hanford there, smiling at her. “G-good evening,” she stammered past a lump in her throat.
“You’re looking very smart.” He came forward, gestured toward the sofa, and they sat down.
“Th-thank you.”
“I hope you have recovered from the alarms of last night?”
She nodded, then blurted out, “I am so sorry I didn’t tell Anabel. I tried, but no one would listen to me. And then I fell asleep.” She hung her head. This wasn’t the strict truth, but she was not going to mention Anabel’s criticisms of him.
“It doesn’t matter. Things turned out well in the end.” And I am grateful you did not speak, he added to himself. If Anabel had known the truth all along, she would not have been quite so happy to see me, and we might never have reached an understanding.
Watching his face, Georgina said, “Did they?” in a tentative voice.
Hanford met her eyes. He had done his best to be kind to this girl while showing her that his affections were firmly engaged elsewhere. He knew that her youthful infatuation with him was nothing more than that; it would fade soon. But he also remembered the painful throes of calf love. He felt no guilt, but there was pity in his gaze as he answered, “Very well. Anabel and I are going to be married, Miss Goring.”
“Oh!” Georgina blinked. She had not expected anything so revolutionary. “What about Sir Charles? I mean…”
“That is at an end.”
“Oh, good,” responded the girl before she could think. She flushed bright red. “Er…that is…”
Hanford laughed. “I certainly think so.”
“I never liked him somehow,” confided Georgina.
“Neither did I,” he replied feelingly.
They laughed together. “I wish you very happy. I know that you… I noticed…” She faltered. Christopher’s confidences had made her feel very grown up; yet she didn’t know what to say to him. Her own confused feelings seemed to tie up her tongue. She was glad for them. Mr. Hanford had received his heart’s desire, and Anabel would be much happier with him than with Norbury. But she also felt a lingering, wistful love for him herself. If it had been she he offered for… She thrust this thought aside. There had been no question of that.
“You are a remarkable girl, Miss Goring,” added Christopher.
Looking up, she saw in his eyes knowledge of her feelings, and flushed again.
“You have true greatness of spirit, and someday you will be as happy as I am just now.” He smiled, hoping to reduce her confusion.
Georgina couldn’t think what to say.
“Your first season has been remarkably eventful so far,” he continued in a lighter tone. “I wonder if you expected London to be so busy.”
“I didn’t.” Taking his cue, Georgina spoke jokingly. “Indeed, I never imagined half the things I have done.”
“I hope you have been enjoying yourself.”
“Oh yes.”
They both turned as a footman came in. He held a silver salver on which reposed a folded sheet of paper. “A note for you, Miss Georgina,” he said. “The man is waiting for an answer.”
“For me?” She tore it open. “Oh, Lydia Mainwaring is holding a waltzing party tomorrow and particularly wishes me to come. I must write her at once.” She started out of the room, then remembered Hanford. “If you will excuse me a moment?” Her gray eyes were glowing.
“Of course. I shall be quite all right.”
With a smile, Georgina went out. Hanford sat gazing at the opposite wall, a thoughtful smile on his face as well. Georgina would soon forget him, it was clear.
“Mr. Hanford.” Lady Goring came in, and he rose to greet her. “How glad I am to find you here alone. I wanted to speak to you.”
He raised inquiring eyebrows.
“What has happened? I dare not ask Anabel, for fear of spoiling things, but I am agog with curiosity!”
He laughed. “What makes you think something has happened?”
She looked at him, and he laughed again. “If Anabel has not told you—”
“I believe I shall scream with vexation,” interrupted Lady Goring.
He relented. “We are going to be married.”
She clasped her hands before her. “Truly? And Norbury?”
“Anabel is to tell him tomorrow. I imagine that is why she didn’t mention it. She wished to speak to him first.”
“Oh, I have never been so glad about anything. Does your sister know?”
Hanford looked surprised. “No. I was waiting until all was settled.”
“May I tell her?”
He stared at her.
“We have conspired together to match you and Anabel,” she explained, “and though our efforts came to nothing, I know her interest in the matter.”
He smiled. “I suppose you may. But…”
“Oh, I will be discreet. I will call on her tomorrow morning. My dear Mr. Hanford, or Christopher, as I
shall call you now, how pleased I am!” She held out her hands and gave his a firm squeeze. “You will both be very happy.”
“I believe we will,” he answered, returning her glowing look.
Georgina came back, followed closely by Anabel and the children. The latter threw themselves upon Christopher at once, effectively ending conversation, and it was not until they were going into the dining room that he was able to speak privately to Anabel. “How are you?”
“Splendid.” They smiled into each other’s eyes.
“You haven’t told the children?”
“Not yet. I thought we would do that together.”
He nodded, pleased. “Tonight?”
“I think tomorrow afternoon would be better. By then everything will be…” She gestured.
“Yes. I will call then. I hope they will be pleased.”
“Can you doubt it?” They watched the children climbing into their seats at the table. “They will be delighted. Almost as happy as when I told them we are going home soon.”
“It will be good to be back.”
“Very!” They smiled at each other again. Anabel started to move away toward her chair.
“Oh, Anabel?”
“Yes.”
“I’m afraid I wasn’t able to resist telling your mother the news when she asked.”
“Mama? Why didn’t she ask me? I wonder.”
His eyes danced. “I believe she was afraid to.”
“Afraid?” Anabel giggled.
“I told Miss Goring also. She, ah…”
“I know. You have been very kind to her. There were moments when I found it quite annoying.”
“If I had only known!”
Anabel laughed again. She felt like laughing all the time now.
“I’m hungry!” declared Susan from the other side of the room. Anabel and Christopher exchanged a last amused glance and went to their places.
It was a lively, hilarious meal. The children were in high spirits, anticipating what they would do when they were home again and wondering about all their friends there, human and animal. They pelted Christopher with questions he could not answer, as he, too, had been away for some time, and formed all sorts of plans for the future. They addressed an equal number of remarks to Anabel, their strategy of silence abandoned. Even Georgina and Lady Goring were urged to come down and be introduced to Susan’s remarkable pony and William’s amazingly intelligent spaniel. “Daisy is very happy too,” said Susan. “She can’t wait to see the country. I have told her all about it.”
“That is one of the blessings of this affair,” replied Lady Goring with mock asperity. “That malevolent animal will be out of my house. Perhaps I may keep my cook after all.”
While Susan puzzled over the meaning of “malevolent” and prepared to defend her pet, Nick said, “We should leave him here. He will kill all the birds within two miles.”
“Nick!” Susan glared at him. “Daisy will do no such thing. She loves birds!”
“To eat,” her brother mumbled into his plate, but he did not take up the argument.
“Rex will keep the cat away from the coveys,” said William.
“Mama! You will not let William’s dog hurt Daisy, will you?” appealed Susan.
“It would probably be the other way about,” murmured Nick.
“No one will hurt your cat, Susan,” replied Anabel. “But you must try to train, er, her better. Daisy is a little wild.”
“I think she’s perfect,” declared the youngest Wyndham.
Her brothers glared at her as if to say this was only natural, considering her own temperament. All the adults laughed.
“Do you see what you are taking on?” dared Lady Goring.
Christopher met her eyes, his own twinkling. “With great joy.” He and Anabel exchanged a fond look. Georgina’s smile trembled a little.
“What do you mean?” asked Nicholas, his eyes moving intelligently from one to the other.
“Nothing, dear.” Anabel suppressed her smile. It was not the time to make their announcement. “Here is a Chantilly cream, your favorite.”
Nick was diverted but not fooled. During the rest of the meal he often glanced from his mother to Christopher and back again.
When they finished, the party gathered in the drawing room for a very successful, and noisy, game of lottery tickets. Georgina soon forgot her sadness in the excitement of it, and she looked much younger than her eighteen years as she dickered with the children for counters. Even Lady Goring, who had joined in only after much persuasion, enjoyed herself hugely. And Susan, who came out the winner, could hardly be torn from the table to go to bed. Indeed, she resisted mightily, and would have gone on playing all night if allowed.
At last, however, the children followed Nurse upstairs, leaving the older members of the party in the drawing room. Lady Goring sighed and stretched her arms. “What a pleasant evening. Who would have thought we should enjoy a silly game so much?”
Georgina agreed. “I have not played lottery tickets for five years.”
“I feel quite exhausted by it. I believe I shall go straight up to bed. Are you coming, Georgina?” The girl rose and joined her aunt. “Good night, Christopher,” added Lady Goring. “We will see you again tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“Splendid.” Amid a chorus of farewells, they went out.
“Are you very tired?” Hanford asked Anabel, going to sit close to her on the sofa.
“A little.”
“You should sleep.” He touched her cheek gently with his fingertips.
“Soon.” She looked into his blue eyes. “I am very happy, Christopher.”
“As am I.”
“I feel so fortunate, being prevented from making such a mistake.”
“Not half so fortunate as I!”
They laughed.
“We should make plans. When will you go home?”
“Soon. But there is no need to decide anything tonight. Tomorrow will be better, when you are rested.”
Anabel nodded and rested her head comfortably on his shoulder. “But I am eager to leave now.”
He kissed the top of her head. They remained so for a while, Hanford feeling a great contentment spread through him. He could not remember being so happy. “I think Nick suspects us,” he said finally. Anabel did not reply and, looking down, he saw that she was fast asleep. He smiled, then eased his arm from behind her and went to ring for the maid to take her upstairs.
Sixteen
Anabel woke the following morning with a sense of oppression, and she lay in bed for a while wondering why. Everything was wonderful. She and Christopher and the children were going to be tremendously happy. She glowed at the mere thought of it. Then she remembered Sir Charles. Today she must face him and break off their engagement; that was what weighed on her. He would be very angry, she knew, and she had always shrunk from acrimonious scenes, preferring to agree rather than to argue. She had seen how he resented any interference with his wishes, and although she didn’t have any great faith in his love for her, she knew that he was determined on the marriage. Perhaps, she thought, he did love her in a way. But his sort of love was wholly selfish, a matter of his own desires and visions alone. Somehow she conformed to his image of a wife, and he was set on placing her in that position. He would not give up his plan without a battle. How different from Christopher!
For a while she drifted in a pleasant reverie, recounting Christopher’s sterling qualities. She was brought abruptly back to earth by the entrance of her maid with tea, the drawing of the curtains, and the other familiar rituals of rising. What would she say to Norbury? she wondered as her hair was brushed. How would it be best to begin?
This question threw her into the dismals again. Anabel was still far from accustomed to upholding her own decisions. The knowledge tha
t she loved Christopher and had made a mistake with Norbury had been almost instinctive. It was quite another matter to plan rationally how best to convey that news and bear down opposition. She did not question her choice—far from it—but she was uneasy about her ability to explain it. Her first marriage had been so much simpler. Her father had presented a fait accompli, and she had merely acquiesced. There had been no necessity for explanations. And Norbury had been much the same. He had impressed his will on her and expected her to yield, as she had. This time all was different. She had decided, and it was up to her to take the actions that would bring her own happiness.
Briefly Anabel wished for Christopher. If only he could be with her today, to confront Sir Charles at her side. But that was impossible, she knew. It would make everything ten times worse. In any case, this was her tangle. She had been foolish, and she must right her mistake. Anabel sensed that it was very important for her to see this matter through alone. This season in London had been good for her, she realized. It had shown her a great many things about herself, and she must use this new knowledge rather than retreat into outworn habits. She and Christopher would help each other. She would not rely on him for every decision.
This train of thought was fascinating, if not very comforting, and Anabel remained distracted throughout breakfast, not even hearing the remarks Lady Goring and Georgina addressed to her. After a while they exchanged a glance and abandoned the attempt at conversation, talking quietly to each other. Anabel ate little and soon went up to the drawing room to wait and think. She still had not determined how she would speak to Norbury. Should she simply plunge in as soon as he arrived, or should she wait for an opening? He would bring up their wedding date again; perhaps she could begin there.
Pacing back and forth across the drawing-room carpet, Anabel twisted her hands nervously. It was all very well to vow to change. In actuality it was very difficult.
The sound of the bell made her jump. She heard a footman going to the door and voices below. It was Sir Charles. Her heart speeded up, and she took a deep breath, going to the sofa and sitting down, trying to appear calm and collected.