“A quarrel? No.” Though a quarrel might have been preferable. At least then I could make amends. How do you go about apologizing for being thoughtless and nervous? I closed my eyes. All my doubts and regrets were giving me a headache.
“Diana?”
Breathing out, I forced myself to look at my aunt. She deserved nothing but the truth. “Last night, Mr. Richfield asked for my permission to speak to my father. And—.”
“Oh, Diana!” Aunt Forester reached across the table to grab my hands. “How wonderful! Congratulations! I knew it would do you a world of good to come to London!”
“I didn’t give it!” Allowing her continue under the assumption I was as good as engaged was something I could not do.
Aunt Forester became visibly puzzled. “What?”
“I didn’t give my permission. Not exactly. Please understand I was surprised by what he said.”
“What did you tell him?”
My fingers tightened around my letter, crumpling the paper. I remembered each word with clarity. “I said how enjoyable it was to have new faces in the neighborhood, and my father enjoyed making new acquaintances.”
Holding my breath, I waited to be berated by my aunt for being an empty-headed ninny. “Well, that’s not as bad as I expected,” my aunt said, with a relieved sigh. “We can fix this easily, Diana.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Unless you were merely trying to avoid refusing an offer outright?”
“No!” I relaxed my grip on my letter to clasp my hands together as I tried to explain something I didn’t quite understand myself. “I don’t want to refuse him—I think. I just do not feel i know him well enough to commit the rest of my life to his care.”
“Diana, what more can you wish to know about him?” Aunt Forester said severely. “You cannot live forever with your parents, and you have no inheritance to start up your own household, which would ostracize you from society. You are already twenty years old. How many more offers can you expect to receive before you are considered to be ‘on the shelf’ as they say?”
I flinched under her bluntness. “I know.” I did know. Everything she had said had crossed my mind many times in the past couple years, and especially the recent winter months. “But I cannot accept someone’s offer without knowing him. I have not known Mr. Richfield for long, Aunt.”
“Have you heard anything to make you think he is anything but a fine gentleman? Has he ever acted in a manner other than completely respectful?” Aunt Forester asked.
“No,” I said in answer to both questions.
“Then I fail to see why you are so concerned. Think of Sarah. You know it would not do for anyone to offer for your younger sister’s hand while you are still unwed. Do you want her to become an old maid as well?”
“Of course not!”
“Then, you must accept Mr. Richfield’s offer. As I said, we can save this situation with no difficulty. When we see him tonight, you can merely explain you were startled and you desire him to speak to your father.”
“How do you know we will see him tonight?”
Aunt Forester’s expression became pleased. “Because I make sure to be well informed and know every guest attending the soiree. Now, get ready. It won’t be long before we have callers.”
I left the breakfast room, torn between relief and doubt that the situation could be fixed with only a few words.
Chapter Two
Mr. Richfield didn’t come.
I searched for his face among the other guests and barely heard the music. At the interval, I stayed in my seat, twisting my fan in my fingers. When I couldn’t bear to search in vain, I closed my eyes. Everything had been ruined!
“Diana? Why are you sitting alone?”
With a start, I glanced up to find a familiar couple in front of me, and slowly I got to my feet. “Anna, Sir Rodger.” I offered as sincere a smile as I could. “I’m sorry. I am out of sorts tonight.”
“Anna saw you were not paying attention to the program,” Sir Rodger Carlyle said with an answering smile. He glanced at his wife with affection. “She insisted something dreadful must have occurred for Miss Diana Forester not to hear the music.”
“It’s nothing dreadful, I assure you,” I said, feeling my smile come quicker this time. Anna Carlyle, née Knighton, had grown up a few short miles from my home, and we had been friends for as long as I could remember. “Merely too many thoughts in my head.”
Dramatically, Anna brought her hand to her chest. “It’s worse than I thought!” Mock horror laced her tone. “Diana Forester overthinking? What has the world come to now?”
I had to laugh at her antics and sought some way to change the subject. “I am glad to see you tonight for I leave London in two days.”
“I thought as much.” Anna let her hand drop down to her husband’s arm. “And don’t think you can avoid the question so easily, my friend. You must tell me everything. How else am I to help you?”
“That is a signal I need to fetch refreshment,” Sir Rodger said. He kissed his wife’s hand. “I’ll be back.”
For a moment, Anna watched her husband weave his way out of the room, and I saw the contentment on her face. Yet another happily married couple. I felt my heart clench with a surprising emotion: yearning.
Turning to me, Anna pulled me back down into my seat as she sat on the adjacent chair. “Tell me quickly. What has happened?”
“There is nothing.” What point would there be in trying to explain the specifics of the matter in a few short minutes? “You have invented a situation where there is none.”
“Do not lie to me, Diana Forester.” Anna tapped her chin with her fan, a look of determination on her face I knew all too well. “Fine. I shall simply have to guess.”
That would only end badly. “Please don’t.”
Anna held her hand up, frowning at me. “Don’t interrupt me while I am thinking.” After a few seconds, her brown eyes lit up. “I have it! It has something to do with the lack of a certain person in attendance tonight, doesn’t it?”
“Certain person? Could you possibly be any vaguer?”
Heaving a sigh, Anna shook her head at me. “Diana, everywhere you have been since you arrived in London, Mr. Richfield has been right by your side. Suddenly though, on one of your last evenings here, he is nowhere to be seen.”
“Anna, please, I beg you. Don’t.”
Looking genuinely concerned, Anna leaned towards me. “Diana, did you quarrel with Mr. Richfield?”
Why did everyone assume I had quarreled with him? “No. I have not.” Squeezing my friend’s hand, I put it from my mind. “You need to stop worrying about me, Anna. I am a grown woman, capable of solving any problems that come my way. Now, I don’t want to spoil our last evening together.”
Sitting back in the chair, Anna stared at me. “If you insist, I will say no more about it. But you have to swear you will write and tell me all.”
“When I have something to tell you, I will write.” I hoped I had managed to convince her. Now I just had to convince myself I had spoken true. Somehow, I would figure this out.
As I looked out over the other guests, a familiar face made me gasp. “What’s wrong?” Anna asked, twisting to see what had so obviously startled me. “Is he here? Did you see him?”
“No. Mr. Richfield isn’t here,” I said, shaking my head. The face I had seen had vanished. “I didn’t know your brother was in Town.”
“Philip?” Anna frowned. “Mama didn’t say he intended to come to London when she wrote me.” She heaved a sigh. “But when do young gentlemen, brothers especially, ever keep their families appraised of what they were doing?”
“Perhaps I was mistaken.” It had been months since I last saw Philip Knighton and we had parted on such bad terms, I did not want to face him once again in a public setting. “There are a great many people here.”
Anna nodded. “Ah, here comes trodger with our refreshments.”
“SHE LOOKS AS THOUGH she has never seen the country b
efore.”
Three days after the soiree, we were in the carriage. At my Uncle Forester’s words, I reluctantly pulled my gaze from the familiar landscape. “We’re almost home!” I said, knowing it wasn’t necessary. My uncle had grown up in the neighborhood, the same as my father, and knew exactly where we were.
Both Uncle and Aunt Forester’s smiles were indulgent. “It’s a good thing London society isn’t here to see the lovely Miss Forester acting like a child on her first outing,” Aunt Forester said, continuing to act as though I was not there. “What happened to the calm young lady who was such a success?”
“Perhaps this is a ploy to become recognizable,” Uncle Forester said, mischief glinting in his eyes. “After all, who wants to be known as merely ‘lovely’ and ‘a success’ when she could be an oddity or an eccentric and be welcomed wherever she shows her face?”
Even though I knew they were teasing me, I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of annoyance and I sought some way of changing the subject. “I wonder if James is home yet.” My older brother had spent most of the winter visiting friends from university and I was eager to hear how he’d occupied himself in all that time.
“What?” Aunt Forester said, raising her eyebrows. It was difficult to tell whether this was genuine, or whether part of her was teasing me. “With the constant exchange of letters between you and your sister, not to mention the letters from your mother, and you do not know whether your brother have returned home yet?”
“Mother did not say in her last letter.” I determined to act in a way a member of society would. Folding my gloved hands in my lap, I straightened my shoulders. “And my sister would hardly waste her paper space on news concerning our brothers. She had much more important things to share.”
“Such as the new song she was composing. It will be a pleasure to hear you two perform together again.”
Uncle Forester frowned at me as I struggled to sit straight in the swaying post-chaise. “What are you trying to do, Diana?” he asked.
What was I trying to accomplish? Was there use in trying to be the epitome of a proper young lady? My family wouldn’t care if I acted exactly like a London lady; only that I had shown myself a young lady of good upbringing and manners. I sighed and relaxed against the back of my seat. “Nothing,” I said, not wanting to attempt to explain myself.
I ran my gloved hand over the cover of the novel on my lap. It was the second volume of Mansfield Park. I had spent far to much to acquire the three volumes, but I had so loved reading the previous novel by the same author.
Fixing my attention once more on the passing scenery, I caught sight of an old, large oak we’d just passed. I knew that tree. My siblings and I had spent many a summer day climbing and playing under the branches. It marked the edge of the property surrounding Wisteria House, and I pushed myself to the edge of the seat. “We’re home!”
“Diana, for goodness’ sake!”
After many, many long weeks away, I finally caught sight of my home. Wisteria House was not the most elegant house in the country, nor the biggest. It was just large enough to hold my family comfortably. The sturdy brick structure was surrounded by a good sized lawn and oak trees. Just beyond stood the small stable. The entire scene hinted at a modest income of the occupants.
What? Where had that thought come from? I shook my head to get rid of the unwelcome line of reasoning. My time in London surely hadn't changed me into a mercenary person, only concerned with the worth of things. At least, I sincerely hoped it had not done such a thing.
My father’s estate and tennant’s supported the family, and that’s all that was needed. When I married, I would have a modest dowry and no need to seek employment, as some unfortunate young ladies did.
“You look worried, Diana. Are you afraid your parents will chastise you over—?”
“Of course not,” I said, interrupting shamelessly. Aunt Forester would be the last person to understand my fears of being changed. She had been the strongest advocate for my going to London and getting some ‘polish.’ “I’m happy to be home, that’s all.”
“Now, Diana, surely you’ve taken the time to think about what it will be like when you are married? You won’t be able to call this home anymore. Perhaps you will live far away as well.”
“I know. But I’m not married yet.”
Leaning over, Uncle Forester was able to see ahead as I was not. “I don’t see anyone waiting outside. Maybe our letter hasn’t arrived yet. That certainly isn’t unheard of.”
My heart clenched as I thought perhaps my family was out visiting. No! I had waited this long to see my parents again, and I did not want to have to wait a minute longer than necessary!
The chaise slowed as it neared the front door. Impatiently, I acted on an urge I barely took the time to acknowledge. I grasped the door handle and pushed the door open.
“Diana!” Aunt Forester’s protest followed me as I sprang to the ground. Gravel crunched under my boots. “What will your parents think?”
Any answer I might have given vanished as I saw the front door open and the person I had missed the most while I was in London stepped outside: my mother. “Mama!” I grasped my skirt and lifted it as I hurried to reach her. “I am so happy to see you! I missed you so much!”
“Diana,” was all my mother said as she opened her arms. I clung to her, blinking away the tears in my eyes. How I had missed the comfort and security, my mother had always provided. There was a great deal to tell her, but it could wait until later.
After several moments, when Uncle Forester cleared his throat loudly, Mother untangled herself from me and held me at arm’s length as her eyes swept over me. “You look well, Diana. Your time in London doesn’t appear to have done you any harm.”
“Naturally not!” Aunt Forester protested. “There was hardly any danger of that.”
“I had a wonderful time, and I can’t wait to tell you about it,” I told Mother, reaching for my bonnet’s ties. I glanced around. No one else had followed Mother from the house. “Where is everyone else?”
“Your father was asked to help Mr. Sandwood with a matter. Sarah went with him to have a long visit with Miss Sandwood. And your brother—well, whoever knows where Will is?” Mother shook her head. “What happened to your manners in London, Diana? Do you plan on keeping your aunt and uncle out here until dark?”
“Of course not,” I said, spinning to face the carriage. “Forgive me.”
My aunt and uncle merely seemed amused, though. “Please come in,” Mother said to them. “You must be tired from your long journey. I will have the servants bring your things in.”
It was good to step into my childhood home. As I made a slow to turn to take it all in, I pulled my gloves off my hands. Everything, as usual, was spotless and appeared exactly as it had when I had left. The wood floors beneath my feet gleamed and there was the faint scent of beeswax in the air.
The only thing missing was the sound of running footsteps, and my siblings calling out. And as much as I wanted to see all of my family, I found myself hoping everyone would stay away long enough for me to have a private conversation with Mother.
“Come, Mary, George, let me show you to your room,” Mother said to my aunt and uncle.
I followed them upstairs. When they continued, I slipped into the room I have always shared with my younger sister. A groan left my lips as I saw the interior of the chamber. “Oh, Sarah.”
The bed was still unmade, though the blankets had been pulled up as if Sarah had made a half-hearted attempt to straighten things. Her nightgown was thrown over the dressing table chair. There was sheet music on the floor by the window. Our parents had forbidden the maid long ago from touching the room, in the hopes Sarah would mend her bad habit.
“Diana.”
My mother’s voice pulled me out of my horror at the state of the room. I twisted around to see her in the doorway, shaking her head at the mess. “Your aunt and uncle are getting settled and resting for a while. Tea will be
in the sitting room in fifteen minutes.”
There was an unspoken command in the last statement. “I will be right down.”
Mother’s smile was all I saw before she closed the door. I set my gloves on the crowded dressing table, next to the novel I had been reading before I left. Swiftly, I unbuttoned my pelisse and hung it with the other garments for outdoors in the wardrobe. Pouring water into the basin, I washed my hands and face. One of the grooms, someone new I’d never seen before, brought my trunk in while I was checking my hair. For a moment, I considered getting out the gifts I’d purchased while in Town but decided to leave them for later.
Standing in front of the mirror, I checked my appearance and gave an approving nod. The walking gown I had worn for the journey wasn’t wrinkled, so tt was not necessary for me to change into a different gown as I would have in town. “Good enough.”
The sooner I went downstairs, the more time I would have to talk to Mother alone. And there was one benefit of being in the country: expectations for appearance were entirely different and easier to achieve.
It was good to be home.
MOTHER SAT ALONE IN the sitting room when I entered. “Come have a seat, Diana,” she said, gesturing to the space on the settee next to her. “Your aunt hinted you had something you wanted to share with me.”
“Yes, I do.” I crossed the room. The entire trip from London I had spent thinking of the best way to approach this subject. All of my planning vanished the closer I got to my mother. By the time I sat down, my hands were damp with moisture. “You recall I met a Mr. Richfield in London, shortly after I first arrived?”
“Yes, you mentioned him several times in your letters.”
Her tone was matter-of-fact, giving absolutely nothing away, which I should have expected. Mother was an expert at keeping her thoughts to herself. “Well—” I hesitated as I sought the right words. I rubbed my palms against my skirt. “At Aunt Forester’s last dinner party, Mr. Richfield asked for my permission to come speak to father.”
A Chaotic Courtship Page 2