“It is unlikely that I will have the opportunity to take advantage of your advice, Mrs. Evans,” Harriet replied.
“I would not be so certain of that if I were you. You are a lot like me, Miss Walters. You live a quiet life dependent upon your aunt, as I once did with my mother, and see what happened to me. You never know what hand might be dealt to you. Readiness is all.”
“I have no cousin to rescue me.”
“Perhaps not, but there is an interesting schoolmaster in town.” Harriet blushed. “How is Mr. Ash, by the way?”
“He was well when I saw him at church last Sunday, but I did not have the opportunity to speak with him. As you know, my aunt does not encourage our friendship.”
“Yes, I fear that Edna’s criterion for a suitable husband is rather limited. I doubt that Mr. Ash’s income is very large, but other people have married on a schoolmaster’s salary and been happy. And you never know what opportunities may come along to an energetic and intelligent young couple. So tell me, Miss Walters, what do you know of Mr. Ash?”
As Harriet spoke of the schoolmaster's interest in the Roman occupation of England, Mrs. Evans looked thoughtful. “Do you know, Harriet, this time of year can be very dull with the weather so dreary and Christmas preparations not yet begun. It would be nice to have some little event to look forward to – perhaps of an educational nature? I am sure that the St. Michael’s ladies’ auxiliary would be delighted to hear Mr. Ash speak on the Roman occupation of England. It wasn’t long ago that the remains of a Roman temple were discovered in Bath. I wonder if Mr. Ash could be induced to give a little lecture on the subject, perhaps followed by a small reception? Do you think that he would have the time, given his duties at the school? I should think that Mr. Harris would be happy to share his school’s resources with the rest of the village.”
Mrs. Evans paused, noticing Harriet’s worried expression. Harriet was afraid that Mrs. Evans would want her to approach Mr. Ash, and she did not want him to think her forward in asking for favours.
Mrs. Evans patted her hand. “Don’t worry about a thing, Miss Walters. Leave it to me. I will write to Mr. Ash tomorrow to see if he's interested, and acquaint you with his response as soon as I hear back. Will that do?”
“That sounds wonderful. I would be happy to assist in any way I can. Perhaps Aunt Edna could be persuaded to provide sandwiches and pastries for the reception?” The two women began planning the food and decorations.
Happily, Ash wrote that he would be honoured to speak to the ladies’ auxiliary, and Mr. Harris gave his permission. Mrs. Evans convinced Reverend Simons of the worthiness of an educational lecture for the ladies of the church, and the minister encouraged the auxiliary members to attend. After service the following Sunday, Ash was waiting for Harriet as she, Aunt Edna, and Mrs. Evans emerged from the building. Harriet introduced the schoolmaster to her aunt and to Mrs. Evans.
Mrs. Evans said, “We so look forward to your lecture next Sunday. The ladies’ auxiliary is abuzz with anticipation.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Evans. I am happy to lecture upon one of my favourite subjects. I did wonder, however, if there were any particular topics that the ladies would wish me to address?”
“That is a very important consideration,” she replied. “Unfortunately, Mrs. Slater and I have a luncheon engagement which requires our immediate departure. However, Miss Walters and I have discussed the lecture at length, and have come up with one or two points that you might care to include. If Miss Walters does not mind, perhaps she would share these thoughts with you on the walk home from church?”
“I would have no objection, if it is convenient for Mr. Ash,” Harriet immediately responded.
“That is most generous of you, Miss Walters. Let me just mention the plan to Mr. Harris, and I will be back directly.”
“What luncheon engagement do we have, Mabel?” Aunt Edna asked as Ash hurried over to the headmaster.
“Our luncheon engagement, Edna. Don’t tell me that I forgot to invite you? How forgetful of me. Please do come. I’d like to show you the gown I had made from your pattern. I had it cut from blue silk.”
“Do not believe for a second that I don’t know what you’re up to, Mabel Evans.” Aunt Edna turned to Harriet. “You have my permission to walk home with Mr. Ash, Harriet, but come straight home. I don’t want the whole parish to see you dawdling around the village with a strange young man.”
“Of course not, Aunt Edna. Besides, Mr. Ash is not a ‘strange young man,’ and now that Reverend Simons has announced the upcoming lecture, everyone will know who he is.”
“Humph,” Aunt Edna said, “we’ll see. Just behave yourself, Harriet. Look, he’s coming back.”
“Come, Edna, you can ride in my carriage and send your coachman home,” Mrs. Evans said as she drew Aunt Edna away.
“All settled, Miss Walters. May I escort you home?” Ash said, offering her his arm. As they walked, the history master outlined his ideas for the lecture. Harriet thought them excellent, but suggested that Ash also discuss the lives of the Roman soldiers who remained behind on British soil. When they had exhausted the topic, Ash changed the subject.
“By the way, Miss Walters, I understand that you are making parish visits to a relative of one of my charges.”
"I am? To whom?"
"To Mrs. Higgins. She is the great-aunt of Oliver Jones."
"Are you in earnest? Mrs. Higgins mentioned that she had a great-nephew at the school, but I did not imagine that it was Oliver. How is he?"
"Managing to stay out of trouble, for the present. I think that his adventure in your orchard had a profound effect upon him."
Harriet laughed. "I'm glad to hear it. Does Oliver ever visit his aunt?”
“Only once since the start of term. Of course, without a carriage, the walk to the school is too far for Mrs. Higgins to manage.”
“Well, the next time I see her, I’ll tell Mrs. Higgins that I’m acquainted with one of her nephew’s teachers. How is he doing with his studies, by the way?”
“Better now. He is forced to board at the school because his family lives too far away to make the daily journey. Being so young, it was difficult for him to be away from home at first. But he has made friends with two or three of the boys and is beginning to take an interest in his lessons. He’s also an enthusiastic participant in the athletic events Mr. Harris stages for the boys. And Mrs. Harris is very good with the younger boys.”
“Mr. Harris has a wife? I didn’t know that.”
“Yes, he and his wife have a cottage on the school grounds. She is constantly at the school – no doubt that is why you have not met her. She stays with the youngest boys when the rest of us go to church on Sundays. They have prayers and bible instruction with her in the chapel.”
Before long, the couple arrived at Aunt Edna’s house, and Harriet couldn’t believe how quickly the time had flown. As he held the gate open for her, Ash remarked, “I’ve enjoyed our talk very much, Miss Walters.”
“As have I, sir. I would invite you in for some refreshments, but my aunt is not at home.”
“I understand completely. And thank you for your advice concerning my lecture. I hope that the ladies will not find it too dull.”
“Of course not. You speak with such authority and enthusiasm on the subject, I’m sure that the ladies will be enthralled.”
"I fervently hope so."
Harriet smiled. “If there is anything that I can do to help in the meantime, please do not hesitate to ask.”
“Thank you, Miss Walters, you are very generous.” Releasing her arm, Ash bowed and turned to leave. Harriet was so pleased with their encounter that she skipped into the house.
Chapter Eight
The following Sunday, Harriet rose earlier than usual to make a special effort with her hair and dress. She had finished with mourning clothes and was wearing her best: a simple, white muslin dress. She was the first one down to breakfast, and was eating a piece of toast when her aun
t came into the morning room.
“You’re up early this morning, Niece,” Aunt Edna said before stopping dead to stare at Harriet. “Good heavens, girl, what have you done to your hair? I’ve never seen you in ringlets before.”
Harriet patted her head nervously. “My hair is always difficult, Aunt, but I so wanted it to look attractive today. Do you like it?”
“I’m not sure, Harriet. The ringlets are so very large. They remind me of fat sausages.”
Harriet’s face fell and she stared down at her plate. Aunt Edna eyed her grimly. “Don’t look so glum, child. I had a great mane of hair like yours, too, when I was a girl. My mother finally hired a maid who knew how to cut and dress it to its best advantage. The maid also showed me how to make a pomade which did wonders for controlling it. Grace is quite clever with dressing hair. I’ll have her give you a lesson or two on how to dress yours. For today, I suggest that you wear your larger bonnet with the high crown. You are going to need extra hat to cover those ringlets.”
Harriet jumped up. “What a good idea. Thank you, Aunt.” She hugged the old lady impulsively before rushing from the room.
“Silly girl,” Aunt Edna grumbled before sitting down and helping herself to food.
After service, Aunt Edna, Harriet, and Mrs. Evans descended to the church hall to see if the caretaker had arranged the tables and chairs as instructed. A podium had been placed at the front of the room with a large vase of late-blooming flowers and grasses resting on a stand beside it.
“Very attractive,” Mrs. Evans said. “The food tables look rather plain, though. I’ll bring some linen from home to cover them. I shall be back by one o’ clock. Will you be here by then, Edna?”
“Yes, and Sara will be with Harriet and I to help set up the refreshments.”
“Very well, I’ll see you then."
The ladies and their servants returned at the appointed hour to complete their preparations. By the time that the young man arrived some forty-five minutes later, the hall was already filled with women who visited with one another and admired the plated food for the reception. Ash looked around the hall with trepidation as Harriet bustled over to greet him.
“I had no idea that the church had such a large female congregation, Miss Walters,” he said after greeting her.
“Actually, Mr. Ash, not all of the ladies you see here today are members. Some of the auxiliary ladies invited friends and relatives to hear you speak today. It has become quite the social event. I’m glad that the publican’s wife brought two roasts with her.” Harriet stopped surveying the room to study her friend. “You’re not nervous, are you? You look a little pale.”
“Nervous? To be truthful, I am a little. Accustomed as I am to teaching, I have never spoken to such a large group of adults before, particularly ladies. It is a bit unnerving.”
“I do apologize, sir. The gathering is definitely larger than we had anticipated, but the ladies are all so welcoming and so eager to hear you speak. Will you have a glass of apple cider before you begin? Aunt Edna’s cider is delicious, and has a calming effect on the nerves.”
Ash turned away from watching a new arrival being noisily greeted by her friends. “Lead the way, Miss Walters. I will definitely have a glass.”
Harriet and the schoolmaster wove their way through the crowd to a table bearing jugs of cider and glasses. Harriet uncorked a jug and poured a glassful. Mrs. Evans joined them just as the schoolmaster finished gulping it down.
“How are you this afternoon, Mr. Ash? Such a fine turnout. You must be very pleased.”
“Oh, I am, Mrs. Evans. It’s gratifying to know that so many ladies are interested in English history.”
“Yes, indeed. Ah, I see that you’re having some of Edna’s excellent cider. Don’t let me interrupt you. You don’t want to have a dry throat for your speech.”
Harriet took Mrs. Evans aside as the schoolmaster poured himself a second glass. “I’m afraid that Mr. Ash is a little overwhelmed by the size of today’s audience, Mrs. Evans. I suggested a glass of cider to help calm his nerves.”
“Poor man – I can understand his trepidation. We have assembled rather a mob, haven’t we? Perhaps I can do a little better for him than cider, though.” She reached into her reticule and pulled out a silver flask, masking it with her body.
“You carry a flask?” Harriet whispered, scarcely believing her eyes.
“Certainly. You never know when a little brandy will be required.” Turning to the young man, she said, “Here is something better than cider. Why not try a drop of brandy, Mr. Ash?”
Having already finished a second glass, Ash accepted the flask. “I don’t usually imbibe outside of festive occasions, Mrs. Evans, but I am grateful for it today,” he said, downing a few hearty swallows of the liquor. “What a curious sensation I have in my throat – the warmth of the brandy following the chill of the cider.”
“Don’t be shy, sir. Have another drink,” Mrs. Evans said, raising his arm. Ash obediently swallowed another generous dram.
Aunt Edna came to inform them that the ladies were ready for the schoolmaster to begin. Ash straightened his jacket and ran a hand through his hair.
“Of course, I shall begin straight away. Wish me luck, please, ladies.”
“Good luck, Mr. Ash,” the three women chorused. The young man walked purposefully to the podium and withdrew some notes from his pocket. Raising his head and looking out over his audience, he bowed.
“Good afternoon, members of St. Michael’s ladies’ auxiliary, and guests. I am pleased to speak to you today about a fascinating era in our country’s history, the Roman occupation of England. I want to take you on a journey back through centuries of time to fifty-five years before the birth of our Lord when the general who was to become the great dictator of the Roman Empire, Julius Caesar, first stood upon English soil.”
A hush fell over the audience as the schoolmaster told his story, helping the ladies to imagine what their ancestors must have endured as the mighty Roman army, under the direction of the Emperor Claudius, swept over their land. The ladies were aghast as he described Roman warfare and the suffering inflicted upon those who resisted the invaders. Leaving the topic of warfare, he also spoke of the lives of the Roman soldiers and their families who settled upon English soil; of the towns they built and of the customs they brought with them from their homeland. When he had finished lecturing, the schoolmaster welcomed questions from the ladies, and answered them adroitly. After concluding his talk, he thanked the ladies for their indulgence and bowed, with his audience applauding him most enthusiastically. Harriet and Mrs. Evans exchanged delighted glances and hastened to congratulate him as the audience swarmed toward the refreshment tables, Aunt Edna rushing over to supervise the food.
“Well done, Mr. Ash,” Mrs. Evans said as he withdrew a handkerchief from his jacket and wiped his damp face.
“The ladies were just spellbound,” Harriet added.
Ash smiled wanly. “Thank you, both. It did seem well-received.”
“Here, why not take a seat with Harriet while I get you a plate of food and something to drink? You must be parched after all that talking,” Mrs. Evans said, leaving Harriet to lead the young man to a quiet chair at the front of the room. Ash sat down heavily and wiped his face again. Harriet gazed at him with concern.
“Are you feeling all right, sir? You look a little unwell.” In fact, the young man’s face was clammy, and his complexion a decidedly greenish tint.
“Actually, Miss Walters, I am feeling a little dizzy. It has been some hours since I ate breakfast, and I fear that drinking alcohol on an empty stomach may not have been wise. It seems a little warm in here to me. Does it seem so to you?”
Mrs. Evans returned with a plate of food and a glass of fruit punch. “Here you are,” she said, trying to hand him the plate. Instead, the schoolmaster slumped down in his chair.
“Mr. Ash is not feeling well,” Harriet whispered. “Perhaps we could help him outside for som
e fresh air?”
Mrs. Evans murmured, “Of course.” With a lady discreetly supporting each elbow, Ash was escorted upstairs and out onto the back lawn, where he sank onto a bench and cupped his head in his hands.
“Here, have something to eat,” Harriet suggested, taking the plate from Mrs. Evans and offering him some beef and bread. “Mr. Ash has not eaten for a few hours, Mrs. Evans,” she explained.
Mrs. Evans’ eyes widened in comprehension. “That’s right, do eat a little something. What a lovely cool breeze after that stuffy hall. I’m sure that you will feel better soon. Harriet,” she said turning to the young woman, “I’m going to find my coachman and have him bring the carriage around back. Perhaps you could escort Mr. Ash back to the grammar school? Your aunt and I will remain behind with the ladies, and help with the clean-up until your return.”
“Thank you, that is an excellent plan,” she replied. Harriet looked at the young man, who was leaning over the side of the bench. “I’ll get him home safely.”
“Good girl,” Mrs. Evans said, patting her shoulder. Turning back to Ash, she said, “Thank you for the delightful talk today, sir. No, do not bother to rise – just sit and rest.” She nodded at Harriet and quickly left.
“What a nice lady,” he said, sitting back down again. “Miss Walters, may I have some of that punch, please? I’m quite thirsty.”
“Of course,” she replied, taking a quick sip to ensure that it did not contain alcohol. Satisfied, she handed the glass to the schoolmaster, who drank it down in large gulps.
The Affairs of Harriet Walters, Spinster Page 5