by Fanny Finch
Lavinia swallowed her food quickly so she would not choke. For a moment, she thought her mother was going to ask her directly about the Marquess. She did not want to lie.
“I have not received any new correspondence, mother, though I have several men interested. You know this. You were at the ball.” She gave her mother a bright smile, trying to cheer her up.
“Yes, the Marquess of Kent, the Honourable Franklin Ashdown, I know of these two gentlemen. Is there anyone else?”
Lavinia did not want to think about Henry Astor’s proposal. He was Anna’s brother. She could not imagine what made him think they would be a good match. They did not know each other well. Perhaps he thought that since she got along with Anna so well, she might get along with him the same.
Lavinia did not want to think about any of the men. She wanted to enjoy her breakfast with her mother and shop with Helene. She was determined to get her mind away from the coils of relationship woes.
“There is always someone lurking in the shadows, Mother,” she replied with a soft smile.
Her mother widened her eyes briefly. “My goodness. You do not make that sound very pleasant. When you say it that way, it makes me think of danger.”
Lavinia shook her head. “That was not my intention. I just know there are men out there with intentions towards me who have not yet come forward.”
Her mother hummed in agreement. She and Lavinia continued eating in silence.
Lavinia turned her mind to Delia and her mother’s words about being alone. It made her think about what the future might bring for Lady Bronson. Lavinia would marry within a few years and she would leave to be with her husband. From that point on, her mother would be alone.
She wanted to encourage her mother, who was still a bright and vibrant woman for her age, to seek out companionship. But it was too soon for that, she felt. She did not want to make her mother feel worse than she already did.
She did not want to imagine how it felt to lose a loving husband after years of marriage. Years ago, when she was very young, she remembered hearing a conversation between her parents that was not meant for her ears.
Her mother expressed regret that she had not given the Baronet a son. At first, Lavinia had been upset to hear those words. To her, it felt like her mother did not want her and did not love her because she was a girl and could not pass on the family name.
The conversation was spoken in hushed tones that traveled up the stairs to where Lavinia was perched at the top. She began to feel better as her father quieted his wife’s doubts, telling her that she had given him the most precious thing in the world. A child.
She could only hope that she would be lucky enough in her life to find the happiness that her parents had found in each other.
***
Two hours later, Lavinia and Helene were perusing the market area on a busy street in London. Choosing new fabrics and ribbons was always fun but all Lavinia wanted to do today was distract herself from thinking about the Marquess.
Had she chosen the right course of action? She felt each passing minute like a physical thing, stinging her venomously with doubts. As the designated time of the meeting approached, her heart beat faster and faster. It took all of Lavinia’s restraint to not do anything about it.
Instead, she stared at her reflection in the mirror, as the shopkeeper held differently colored ribbons against her to choose which most flattered her skin tone.
“My goodness, Miss. Those are lovely.” Helene smiled at Lavinia, who was holding two different colors of ribbon in her hands, admiring them both. Lavinia looked up and returned Helene’s smile.
“Thank you, Helene.”
“Have you decided which you would like to purchase?”
Lavinia sighed, finally focusing on what she had put on. One of the ribbons was almost the same color of green her mother’s dress was that morning. The other was an admirable color of gold.
After a few more moments of indecision, she placed the golden ribbon back in the long display box.
“I believe I will choose the green for my dress, Helene.”
Helene gently bit her bottom lip, giving Lavinia an amused look. Lavinia raised her eyebrows.
“What do you give me that look for, Helene?”
“I apologize, Miss. I did not mean to offend you. It is only that you have many green dresses of the same color. They are all beautiful and look pretty on you. But you do seem distracted. Do you have something on your mind?”
Lavinia felt a bit of irritation slide through her. She was not necessarily aggravated with Helene, who had done nothing wrong. The thought of missing the meeting with the Marquess was weighing on her mind. Helene was right. She had not paid much attention to any of the fabrics and ribbons shown to her, not really. Her mind was elsewhere.
“I do like this color very much,” she said definitively. “I will be fine, Helene. I just have a lot on my mind.”
Helene nodded. “The color is very pretty on you, miss.”
“Thank you.”
After purchasing the ribbons, Lavinia and Helene walked down the street, moving through the crowd easily. Men moved around them, tipping their hats and nodding their heads, while ladies gave the women a friendly smile.
Their joy did not lighten Lavinia’s mood. In fact, as they walked, Lavinia only became more and more annoyed. As time passed and noon approached, the meeting beat a steady drum in her head.
Finally, it all became too much.
She could not pretend anymore. She could think of nothing else. The Marquess had a reason for wanting to speak to her.
She began to think perhaps he had not intended to come off as brazen and rude. Perhaps, just perhaps, he was well-intentioned in his actions.
She knew herself to be impatient and irrational sometimes, quick to judge. Wasn’t it possible this was all a misunderstanding she herself had caused ? It was likely she had taken the Marquess’ words out of context, was it not?
“Helene.” Lavinia abruptly stopped in front of a hat shop, nearly causing her maid to stumble onto her. “There is somewhere I need to be.”
Helene frowned, confused. “I’m sorry, miss. I don’t understand.”
“There is someplace I need to go,” Lavinia said with growing confidence. Each word she uttered strengthened her belief that this was the right thing to do. The thing she wanted to do. “An obligation I had forgotten that I must attend to at once.”
“Very well, miss,” Helene said, ever obliging. “Where is it that we shall go?”
Lavinia hesitated. Of course her maid would be expected to escort her. A young unmarried woman didn’t simply go wandering the streets alone. Not unless she wanted to have more than a few eyebrows raised at her, of course.
Could she trust Helene to go with her? Could she trust her to listen to whatever it was that needed to be spoken, to keep her meeting with the Marquess a secret?
Could she trust him that he would have arranged everything the way he had promised?
There was only one way to find out.
“Not too far away from here,” she answered, urging her maid forward insistently.
“But- Miss-“
“Hurry, we must hurry. I am supposed to meet… a friend. A good friend of mine, and she is very busy. Very busy indeed. If she sees I am late, then she will assume I was detained and leave,” Lavinia improvised fervently, hoping her story wouldn’t deviate wildly from what Helene would witness once they arrived at the corner of Cornwell Street and Alfen Lane.
She had only a short time remaining to get to the meeting point. It was several blocks from where they were. She hoped she and Helene did not make a spectacle of themselves as they went down the street. They walked as fast as they could, and yet Lavinia feared it would not be fast enough. Running would not be proper but Lavinia wished she could do so.
She prayed the Marquess would wait for her, at least for a few minutes. If he did not, and left before she got there, she would be devastated. How foolish was s
he to deny how much she wanted to go! She regretted her tardiness. If she missed this opportunity to see him, she wouldn’t forgive herself.
The large brass bells of a nearby church started marking the time till noon. Their deafening, unforgiving counting send a wave of panic through Lavinia. She picked up her pace, nearly running, dragging poor Helene with her.
Ten heartbeats after the bells struck midday, Lavinia was arriving at the corner of Cornwell Street and Alfen Lane.
And there was no one there.
She looked around frantically, for the Marquess or a sign of him, and discovered nothing. Had he left already? No, it was too soon. Had he failed to arrange their meeting properly and refrained from risking to expose her to gossip?
Worse, had he decided not to come at all?
“Miss? Miss!”
Lavinia realized Helene had been trying to get her attention. “Yes, Helene.”
“Are you alright, Miss?” the maid asked her, concerned. “You do look a bit pale. Did we miss your friend?”
Right then, a large carriage dragged by two magnificent horses moved leisurely up the street. There was no insignia painted on it, nothing recognizable as belonging to this lord or that lady, but Lavinia knew who this carriage belonged to.
A fierce smile spread on her lips. “No, Helene. I believe we did not.”
The carriage stopped in front of them and, before Lavinia could concoct a story for Helene as to the person who would open the door, said door opened and a face appeared.
Not the face of the Marquess. Not the face of a man at all, but a face of a finely-dressed young woman whom Lavinia had never before seen in her life.
“Lavi, darling,” the woman greeted in a friendly way. “I have missed you so. Shall we begin our ride?”
Chapter 8
It was all Myles could do not to laugh at Lavinia’s shocked expression when the door was opened. Her eyes widened when she saw the unfamiliar woman speaking to her as if they were friends. Seated in the far corner, clad in darkness by the drawn curtains, it was easy to believe Myles wasn’t even there.
He had learned many things in the Navy. One of them was how to make use of shade and light to make himself nearly invisible. He could not have imagined that skill would be useful in a situation like this one.
Lavinia closed her drooping mouth and regained her composure. Myles could easily see her thoughts reflected on her face. She was uncertain what she ought to do. Should she climb in the carriage? Should she take this risk and perform this leap of faith?
One thing was for certain. Lavinia Bronson was no coward. She also was not a woman who would allow herself be plagued by her curiosity for long. Myles felt proud of her.
She directed a quick glance at her maid, clearly wondering what she should do about her.
“Come, Lavi, the day isn’t getting any younger,” the woman urged her, chuckling. “I am sure your maid is comfortable waiting for us here to finish our ride. After all, it will not take long. I shall bring you back here shortly. I have only a little time before I need to return to Papa’s estate.”
Lavinia’s eyes narrowed as she started realizing his scheme. Myles tried not to chuckle out loud.
“Certainly, my dear… Elizabeth,” Lavinia invented an identity for the lady, using the most common name there was out there. “Helene,” she addressed her maid, “wait for me here please and we shall continue our purchases.”
The maid, though a bit dumbfounded by this turn of events, had no choice but to obey and retreated in the shade of a shop’s entrance to wait for her lady to return.
Lavinia climbed in the carriage and sat across from him, gracing him with a glare that amused him.
“It is a lovely day, is it not?” he said.
“Indeed it is, my lord,” she replied. “Quite the lovely day for such a masterful deception.”
At this, he did laugh out loud and was rewarded with a small smile on Lavinia’s part.
They drove silently for a few blocks and then the driver stopped where Myles had instructed him beforehand. “Thank you, Betsy,” he told the woman who descended the carriage without him having to tell her so. “We will be back to collect you very soon.”
“At your service, my lord,” Betsy curtsied before Myles closed the door and the driver continued on his way.
“A maid of yours, I presume?” Lavinia felt finally free to satisfy her curiosity.
“Indeed,” he admitted. “Betsy has worked for my family for a long time. She is as loyal as they come. The clothes belong to one of my sisters. I promised her she could keep them, hats and gloves included. God knows my sisters have enough outfits as it is.”
They lapsed into silence. The Marquess wrestled with himself about what he wanted to say to her. In truth, he hadn’t expected her to come. He was happy that she did but now was also left with a strange anxiety in his chest. He had so much to say. Where should he start?
As the carriage plowed on through the streets of London, he thought of how he was going to answer her questions. He could not outright tell her what her father had told him. He was bound to secrecy. And that secrecy required that he lay clues for her to find out for herself the burdening information her father had bestowed on him.
Myles cleared his throat. He had best start somewhere. “Miss Bronson, first of all, I must apologize to you once again. It seems I always find myself in situations where I have to beg for your forgiveness. Please forgive me for my callous words at the ball. I did not mean to insult your virtue. Please understand I am not attacking you in any way and I wish no harm to come to you. I am only… concerned for you.”
“Concerned, my lord?” Lavinia inquired. “Do you often find yourself concerned about ladies whose acquaintance you haven’t even made?”
“Fair point,” he admitted. “The answer to your question is no, Miss Bronson. I do not often find myself concerned for strangers. You, however, unbeknownst to you, are far from a stranger to me.”
Lavinia frowned. “You will have to offer a better explanation, my lord, as I do not understand the meaning of your words. I am certain I would have remembered if we had met before.” At that, she lowered her gaze, and a blush painted her cheeks.
Myles sighed. Sometimes, at sea, when a storm approached, the only option the captain had was to steer his ship through it instead of around, and pray the vessel endured.
“Let me explain a little better then, Miss Bronson” he began gently. “The truth is… I knew your father.”
Her eyelids fluttered in surprise. “You did?”
Myles nodded. “Your father was a dear friend of mine during my time in the King’s Navy. In fact, he was my mentor, as well as a superior officer that I came to respect highly. It did not take long for us to become friends.
“While we served close by each other several times, we spoke to each other of our families. He spoke of you often and of his wife, too. He missed the two of you whenever we were sent away on assignment. Several times, we were in dangerous situations. Once, your father even saved my life. There is no debt greater than that.”
Lavinia tilted her head to the side, regarding him curiously. “Is that why you felt you had to concern yourself about my safety? Due to a debt you perceive you owe my father?”
Myles hesitated. The answer should have been easy to give. Yet it wasn’t. “The war…” he began. “It is a strange thing to experience. An even stranger thing to describe to someone who hasn’t seen it. Soldiers… We make promises to each other. Promises as sacred as vows. Any one of us can perish at any given moment and if that happens…”
He looked at her, listening to him intently. “Should such a thing happen, we wish our families to be cared for.”
Lavinia’s expression softened and he knew she understood. “And you made such promise to my father, my lord?”
“To an extent,” he avoided a more detailed answer. He couldn’t reveal everything to her. What he had told her would have to suffice.
“I know you mu
st have questions for me, Miss Bronson. I know you wish for me to tell you the details behind this warning I have given you… but it is simply imperative that you heed it, whether you understand it or not.”
She glanced at him, a soft frown on her face. He felt her rising frustration.
“And this warning,” she said, “has to do with the promise you gave my father?”
“It most certainly does.”
“A warning concerning my suitors? Did my father not wish me to marry?”
“He did, miss. He wanted you to be the happiest woman in the world. He felt you deserved nothing less.”