by Abigail Agar
“I had better go down. Mother will be busy with Father, and I doubt in the state to deal with Henry,” Gwyn said as she rose. “Besides, he more than likely is here to see me, unfortunately.”
“You, Miss?” Adrienne asked curiously.
Gwyn sighed as she walked towards the bedroom door. “Yes. He has a horrible habit of trying to interfere with my life and thereby his brother’s life.” Gwyn knew the answer probably did not help the young woman’s confusion, but she had little time to devote to an explanation at that moment. She left the room and headed down the stairs resolutely expecting the absolute worst.
***
As Gwyn came around the turn on the stairs, Gwyn was met by the doorman who was coming up the stairs. “Oh, Miss Stanton, there you are,” Fulton said.
“Fulton, I gather we have a guest,” Gwyn said. The man gave her a surprised look, and Gwyn explained, “Adrienne saw him arrive from the window while we were getting ready for the ballet. I will handle it, as I doubt Mother can tear herself away at the moment.”
Fulton did not look convinced, “With you courting, is it really wise that you be meeting with young gentlemen?” Fulton always had been more like a concerned uncle than hired help to Gwyn.
Gwyn gave the man a smile. “I assure you that Lord Shelton does not qualify in most ways as a gentleman, besides you will be nearby.”
“If you say so, Miss,” Fulton conceded, but he did not sound convinced. Gwyn walked down the stairs with Fulton and sure enough, waiting in the foyer below was Henry who was dressed up handsomely in a tailored suit that Gwyn was certain the man’s mother had commissioned specifically to make him more attractive to the young ladies Lady Shelton was trying to set the man up with.
“Lord Shelton, to what do we owe the esteem of your company?” Gwyn asked as she took the last step off the stairs.
Henry smiled at her. “Ah, I was expecting your mother, Miss Stanton,” Henry said. “Although it really was my aim to speak with you,” he said. Henry stopped for a moment and seemed to take in how Gwyn was dressed finally. “Are you headed out this evening?”
“I am as a matter of fact,” Gwyn said with a smile. “I am going to the ballet with Miss Mary Donovan and her escort.”
Henry’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “You are not attending with Sergeant Chavers? I do hope nothing is amiss with your union.”
“I assure you that Sergeant Chavers and I are perfectly happy. He just had to attend to some business on behalf of his father,” Gwyn said calmly. “Was there a point to your visit, Lord Shelton?”
With a nod, Henry said, “There was indeed. I had come to invite you over to dinner at Shelton Hall, but I can see that you are otherwise engaged. However, the ballet sounds like a wonderful idea. Would you mind if I accompanied you in Sergeant Chavers’ absence?”
“That is a most odd request, Lord Shelton,” Gwyn said trying to figure out why the man would want to go at all. She sighed and asked in a low whisper, “What are you on about, Henry?”
Henry sighed and whispered back, “I am just trying to help.”
“Help who? Yourself? I do not think going to the ballet will suddenly persuade your mother that you do not need a bride,” Gwyn said in frustration with the man.
Henry smiled. “What, you think I do not want to settle down? I mean, I certainly see what Jack saw in you; now if I could find another just like you, then I might happily chain myself down.”
Gwyn stared at the man aghast that he actually had thought that appropriate to say. “Lord Shelton, I do think you should leave now.”
“Relax, Gwyneth,” Henry said flippantly. “Here, I knew there was a chance that you would not agree to eat with us, so I brought this for you.” Henry held out a piece of paper that was neatly folded.
Gwyn took the paper cautiously. Henry gave her a bow and quickly took his leave. Gwyn stared after the man long after the door had closed. “Now what was that all about?” Gwyn asked no one in particular.
Fulton shook his head as he came to stand beside her. “I always thought he was an odd child, turns out he is a fairly odd adult as well.”
Gwyn could not help the giggle that escaped at Fulton’s unexpected words. She did hide her mouth as quickly as she could, and she hit Fulton gently on his arm. The man took the punishment good-naturedly with a smile.
Gwyn scolded playfully, “You should not say such things. Mother might hear you.”
“Yes, and she would give me an earful as she has every other time, but it does not make my words less true. Is that a letter he gave you?” Fulton asked as he nodded his head towards Gwyn’s hand.
Gwyn held up the paper. “Perhaps,” Gwyn acknowledged. “I better go see what it says. I will be in my room if Miss Donovan and her escort should arrive before I come back down.”
“As you say, Miss,” Fulton nodded his understanding.
Although Gwyn knew the man was curious about the letter, she also knew that he would more than likely never mention it again out of deference to Gwyn. Fulton might, however, mention the letter to her mother, so Gwyn was determined to read it before her mother was privy of its existence.
Upstairs, Adrienne was waiting patiently. Gwyn said, “You may go, Adrienne. I will not require any more assistance this evening.”
“Of course, Miss,” Adrienne said as she bobbed a quick curtsey and left the room to give Gwyn privacy.
Gwyn smiled after the young woman. Part of being a good chambermaid was knowing when to simply go away, and Adrienne had a good head on her shoulders. Gwyn turned her attention to the letter. She opened it cautiously as if it might somehow snip at her fingers.
“Dearest Gwyn,
I am sorry that I did not tell you the truth. I feel that before I can start a new chapter of my life and before you can truly be free of this that I should tell you that I too still have a great affection for you. It gnaws at me day and night. No woman will matter the way you do. I dance with them, but I only see you. If you feel the same way, come to meet with me tomorrow night after everyone is asleep. I will be at our spot.
Love Always,
Jack”
Gwyn stared at the letter. At first, her heart soared then it sank at the thought of hurting Sergeant Chavers. Finally, Gwyn felt anger. The anger surprised her, but the more she looked at the letter, the greater her anger grew.
“How dare he?” Gwyn fumed at the letter. She crumpled the letter up in her fist.
Gwyn’s brow furrowed. This did not seem like something Jack would do. No, Jack had never been a letter writer, had he? Gwyn shook her head in frustration. It would be even worse if it were just Henry getting a good laugh at her expense.
“Not this time, Henry,” Gwyn said fervently. “You can get your laughs at someone else’s expense.”
Chapter 8
Jack watched his brother return out the front window. When Henry came through the door, Henry threw up his hands. “She was going out to the ballet with Miss Donovan and her escort,” Henry said in irritation.
“I told you that it was folly to try and invite her on such short notice,” Jack said with a shrug. “Did you give her the letter?”
Henry nodded. “Yes, although she was not thrilled in the slightest with me, so she might have just chucked it in the rubbish,” Henry said with a sigh.
“She will do as it says. She will be curious,” Jack said with confidence.
Henry chuckled and said, “If you say so, Little Brother. I am going to go wash up and get ready to eat. Are you coming?”
“In a moment,” Jack said quietly. Henry nodded and simply left Jack to dwell on his thoughts.
It had been a long shot at best that Gwyn would not be engaged in some activity with the flurry of the Season still upon everyone. Of course, Jack had not attended the latest two events. To Jack’s surprise, though, Henry had volunteered to attend. There were even those who said he danced with a young lady. That had to be progress in Jack’s humble opinion.
Still, it made his heart
heavy that Gwyn had not been able to come to eat with them. Jack sighed up at the vaulted ceiling above his head. He would have to wait until tomorrow and see if Gwyn took the bait.
***
The ballet was a wonderful event. Gwyn sat with Mary, and they talked quietly when there was an intermission. As far as Mary’s escort was concerned, the man seemed content to eat his plate of food and let the ladies do as they would. Mary seemed pleasantly resigned to her fate, and Gwyn had no idea how Mary had done that. It had taken her a much longer time to come to terms with marrying Sergeant Chavers.
“You and your beau seem to be doing much better than you were? Have you just accepted your lot in life then?” Mary asked with a grin.
Gwyn conceded with a nod. “I have indeed, for the most part, accepted that Sergeant Chavers and I will likely marry.”
“There were a good many caveats in that statement,” Mary said in amusement. “Holding out hope that a certain captain will sweep you up and over the marital threshold?”
Gwyn rolled her eyes and said, “No, of course not.” Gwyn pondered for a split second telling Mary about the letter, but Mary as much as she might like Gwyn liked gossip more. Gwyn had no doubt that if she told the young woman anything then the juicy details would soon be common knowledge.
“But you do still fancy him,” Mary said. “It is clearly written on your face.” Mary shrugged and added, “I am beginning to think that he has given up on this Season anyway. I have not seen Captain Shelton in a couple of weeks.”
Gwyn frowned. “Now that you mention it, I have not seen him at any functions since the Firefly Ball.”
“I heard from a young lady who is friends with Captain Shelton’s last date that the man ended the evening abruptly. Apparently, the young lady and her aunt were not well pleased with that. I cannot say I blame them, but I suppose these things do happen,” Mary said with a sensible tone. “People take these things so personally.”
Gwyn chuckled. “Well, people generally take marriage pretty seriously.”
“Except for men who know they will just get to have mistresses anyway,” Mary said. She eyed her husband and said, “Am I wrong on that?”
The man quickly shook his head. “No. You are quite right, dear. Lots of men do not take the sanctity of marriage in its full measure, but I do,” he said eagerly.
“I know you do, and that is why I love you,” Mary said affectionately. Mary whispered to Gwyn, “Got this one around my finger.”
Gwyn smiled and whispered, “How romantic.”
“Romance is overrated,” Mary said with a shrug in her normal voice. “Of course that does not stop some foolhardy souls from trying, mind you. No, I imagine that you will carry on pining for your captain even if you do go through with your dutiful plan to marry Sergeant Chavers. He is a nice man, but you do not look at him the way you look at Captain Shelton.”
As young as Mary was, she seemed to always cut right to the meat of the matter. Gwyn shook her head at the girl. “You amaze me, Mary. You really are a perceptive person.”
“Not really,” Mary said with a shrug. “I simply listen. People say all sorts of things that they do not realize they are saying.”
Gwyn frowned and wondered what she had said that she did not realize. “I hope I have not embarrassed myself too much then,” she said fervently.
“Nonsense. If love is your greatest offence, then I think you are doing very well,” Mary said honestly. “Besides we are given our lots because we can bear them, or that is what my mother keeps saying.” Marry paused as if she was thinking over her mother’s advice. When she continued, Mary simply said, “You have to admit that you and Sergeant Chavers are not the best match.”
Gwyn scoffed, “There is nothing wrong with our match.”
“Not physically or financially,” Mary agreed. “But there are more things to consider than those two, not the least of which being how the heart feels.”
How did her heart feel? Gwyn pondered that question before she answered, “My heart feels tired. Yes. It is most fatigued.”
“Then you should rest and see how you feel,” Mary said logically.
Gwyn shook her head with a laugh. “Yes, because it is just that simple.”
“It is if you truly listen to yourself. If you are dedicated to your match with Sergeant Chavers, then I support you fully, but I just do not think that you are,” Mary said as she gave Gwyn a helpless shrug.
If that were not so hard, Gwyn thought. “Maybe I will try that.”
***
The next night while the bullfrogs barked out their calls, Jack stood on the bridge. It had been their place since before he and Gwyn had had a place. It was the one spot where they could always be found from childhood on and where they went when they needed to talk.
If anyone needed to talk, then it was Gwyn and he, Jack reasoned. It was all perfectly logical to Jack. The only thing that was missing from the equation was Gwyn. For hours, Jack had stood on the bridge waiting and unable to say that Gwyn was not coming.
However, as the hours droned on, it became obvious, even to Jack, that Gwyn had no intention of meeting with him. Perhaps she had simply thrown the note away, or she had read it and just disregarded it. Jack frowned down at the water below him.
The moon’s reflection outlined Jack’s silhouette in the water below. Jack kicked a loose stone that had been lying on the bridge into the water causing his reflection to splinter and ripple. That was pretty much what his head felt like trying to figure out what Gwyn was thinking.
Jack finally made his way back up to the house only to find Henry waiting for him on the back balcony. “You are back too soon,” Henry noted.
“She did not attend,” Jack said simply as he pushed past his brother on his way into the house.
Henry was right behind Jack. “I thought you said that you knew her?”
“Apparently, she has changed a bit,” Jack said with a sigh. He looked over at Henry, who had fallen into step beside him. “It is entirely possible that she did not read it. No matter what, I intend on speaking with her, so it is merely just a setback.”
Henry chuckled. “I admired the confidence, but her sweetheart will be home soon enough, and if my sources are correct, and they usually are, then Sergeant Chavers plans on formally proposing to Gwyn as soon as he is home again.”
“If he does manage that then Gwyn will be honour bound to marry him regardless,” Jack said with a disgusted sigh.
Henry said, “She might not. She left you and that missionary after all.”
“That really does not seem like Gwyn,” Jack said in frustration. “Maybe I do not truly know her at all.”
***
Gwyn had met Sergeant Chavers’ parents only once, but he had insisted that when he got home that they visit his family estates again. Gwyn grew nervous that the man had at last worked up the courage to ask her to be his bride. It was one thing to commit herself to a thought in her mind, but to be confronted with the reality of it had shaken Gwyn’s confidence badly.
Her mother seemed thrilled that there was an engagement in the near future, but Gwyn could only smile along with the woman through a force of will. She was certain it was probably just nerves, Gwyn reasoned. All women went through a time when they doubted their decision. Of course, they usually went through that time after they had said yes to a proposal.
“Gwyn, you really must calm yourself. Sergeant Chavers will be back from his trip within the week. You are making me nervous,” Lady Stanton said, even though the woman still appeared perfectly calm to Gwyn. Lady Stanton eyed Gwyn from her favourite spot on the sofa where she often sat and did needlework or read.