The Village Spinster

by Laura Matthews

  “My poor child! What have they done to you?” Lady Kinsford's eyes had widened considerably at the sight of Aria in her outlandish outfit. “They have taken away your clothes! They are treating you as a lunatic!''

  “Hush, Mama,” Lady Aria insisted. She dusted her hands together to rid them of crumbs and said stoutly, “I've just been dressing up. Will can tell you..."

  “Will? Is Will here, too?"

  William, who had been hiding behind the door, now stepped forward to confront his mother. “Yes, indeed I am here, ma'am. I have been keeping a constant watch over my sister and no harm has befallen her here."

  “How can you say that? She is at that this moment in a boardinghouse where strange women give birth to children, probably out of wedlock. This is not the place for any daughter of mine to be found.” Lady Kinsford glared at Clarissa, who merely returned her look with a slight twitching at the corners of her lips. “Aria must be removed at once!"

  “I think we must consult Kinsford about that, ma'am.” Will suggested. “He has instructed that she stay here."

  “And does Kinsford know that a woman is giving birth next door to your sister?” his mother demanded, her eyes taking on a cunning look. “Perhaps this has something to do with him. I am not at all happy that he hasn't as yet married. It's not a good thing for a young man to be at loose ends at his age. How could it be? His father was married far younger. And married soon after Kinsford's mother died as well. It's not wise for these country gentlemen to be left to their own devices."

  William looked despairingly at Clarissa, who said, “The lady giving birth next door is my cousin's wife, Lady Kinsford. It's indeed unfortunate that this should have happened with Lady Aria here, but it cannot be helped. Please let me take you down to the sitting room and Meg will bring you a cup of tea."

  There was another wail from the next room and Lady Kinsford grasped the doorknob where her hand rested. “I don't understand how you can allow such a thing to happen. People just do not come to one's house to give birth."

  William took his mother's elbow and turned her toward the stairs. “Now, Mama. You mustn't let yourself be distressed. Miss Driscoll is more than capable of taking care of everything."

  “But she's never had a child herself. She cannot possibly be capable of taking care of everything. You have no idea, William. Childbirth is a nasty, painful business and an unmarried woman should be nowhere in the vicinity. I assure you it is best that the young have no idea of what is involved or they would never in their lives become married and have children."

  Chapter Eighteen

  Clarissa helped William guide his mother down the stairs, where they found Meg just ascending with warmed cloths and hot water. Clarissa left William with his mother while she went to prepare a cup of tea for the dowager. When she returned, her guest had not finished elaborating on the miseries of childbirth.

  “I tell you it is most unreasonable to expect a poor, helpless female to go through that kind of pain,” she was telling William, who looked thoroughly discomfited. “Not that I begrudge you and your sister the difficulties, mind, but it does seem to me that things could have been arranged a little differently. After all, one is imposed upon quite enough by the act of procreating."

  It seemed to occur to her that this was not perhaps something she should be discussing with her son, but William's eyes danced as he leapt up to help Miss Driscoll with the tea things. Soon enough Lady Kinsford forgot that he was there, though, in her meditations.

  “Perhaps my mother was remiss in not telling me certain things that she should have,” she opined. “If I had known what to expect! But I really did not and it was the most horrifying thing, you see. Not that your father was not the most perfect gentleman. Certainly he was. And thoughtful of me in every way. But to have expected me to bear two children when he already had an heir! Still, it is the way of the world. Or at least of men,” she lamented. “One has to do one's duty."

  “Indeed, ma'am,” William murmured. “Should you like sugar in your tea?"

  Lady Kinsford looked up at him as though puzzled to find him there. “Yes, I always take two sugars. You know, William, this is not the time of year you should be home from school, is it? I had thought it wouldn't be time for a break from Oak Knoll for some weeks."

  “A small matter of being sent down,” William explained without the least embarrassment. “Nothing that can't be rectified, I assure you. Kinsford has already spoken to me on the subject. In fact, there are several matters which he is at present attending to.''

  “Well, he is not the man his father was,” she said with a sigh. “Always away in London and sending notes to his bailiff. That was not the way his father ran the estate. I should very much like to see him take more of an interest."

  “And I think he will,” William replied, casting a surprisingly sharp glance at Miss Driscoll. “He seems to have found an interest in the country recently. And there is Aria to be considered."

  “The poor child. I'll send over more clothes for her. What can she be thinking of, wrapping herself up in such shoddy draperies? Is she all right?"

  Though Lady Kinsford looked to her son for an answer, it was Clarissa who responded. “We think she is progressing fairly well. In fact, I feel certain Dr. Lawrence will recommend her return to the Hall very shortly."

  “It's been much quieter here for her than at the Hall,” William explained.

  At that moment there was a long, drawn-out cry of pain from the room above them. They heard a door close above and a man's footsteps proceed heavily down the stairs. Steven Traling appeared surprised to see so many people when he entered the sitting room. “They won't let me stay any longer,” he complained.

  “They'll take good care of her,” Clarissa assured him. And seeing her means of escape, she added, “It might be an excellent idea if I were to go up and offer my assistance.” Fortunately, for all the help she could be, the midwife arrived as she hurried through the hall. Relieved, Clarissa bore her upstairs to the needy Jane.

  * * * *

  When Lady Kinsford requested seedcake, Mr. Traling instantly offered to find it. Meg and Betty were both upstairs, with Miss Driscoll and the midwife. Mr. Traling was happy to be of any service that would take him out of the dowager's immediate vicinity. He hunted through the various cabinets in the kitchen until he came to the metal box that contained the seedcake. As he sliced off several large pieces, he happened to look out the back window and saw Lord Kinsford riding toward Miss Driscoll's cottage. Mr. Traling let himself out the back door and waved the earl to the back of the building.

  “You could tie the horse here,” he suggested. “It's rather crowded out front."

  Kinsford swung down from Longbridge. “You here again?” he asked with slight acerbity.

  “Yes, this is not a day when poor Clarissa is going to get any peace.''

  The previous day Kinsford might have allowed the familiarity to distress him. Now he merely asked, “Why not?"

  “There are quite a few people here requiring her attention. My wife Jane, for instance, is in the midst of giving birth. Which of course required a midwife who arrived some while ago. Jane is in Clarissa's bedchamber, and Lady Aria is in Miss Snolgrass's room catering to the dog Max. Her mama is in the sitting room waiting for seedcake and reminiscing about the birth of her children. William, in a hussar's uniform, is there with her."

  “A regular May Day festival,” Kinsford murmured. “Poor Miss Driscoll."

  At which moment there was a different sort of cry from the room upstairs, that of a newborn babe.

  * * * *

  When Mr. Traling had disappeared upstairs, Kinsford presented himself in the sitting room with the seedcake the younger man had cut. His stepmama regarded him with confusion.

  “I didn't know you were here, Kinsford,” she said, frowning. “What happened to that other fellow?"

  “Mr. Traling has gone up to see his new child.” He raised his brows at William, lounging in the old hus
sar's uniform.

  “Aria told me to wear it,” William protested. “Remember, it was in the trunk in the north attic. Perhaps she was having one of her disoriented phases,” he suggested, not meeting Kinsford's eyes.

  “Hmmm.” He turned back to his stepmother. “Is there anything I can get you, ma'am?” His stepmother sighed. “Women die in childbirth, you know. Lots of women. You live in fear that you will die, or the child, or that you will have to have another one and bear all that pain. I became pregnant once when Will was ten, you know. The thought of having another child terrified me. I had nightmares about its tearing me apart."

  She set down her teacup and wrung her hands in her lap. “And then I miscarried. The earl was very disappointed, and I felt wretchedly guilty, as though my fear had brought it on. I don't think that could be true, do you?"

  William, to whom this discourse seemed to have been directed, dropped down beside his mother on the sofa and clasped her hand tightly in his own. “No, I'm quite certain that it could not have done that, Mama. These things happen in the course of nature."

  Lady Kinsford nodded, her head slightly cocked to one side. “Your father was angry, you see. He thought I had not taken good care of myself. Though why he so particularly wanted another child, I cannot imagine."

  “Perhaps he thought that none of the ones he had already gotten were quite what he expected,” William suggested, glancing at Kinsford with obvious affinity.

  “Perhaps.” Lady Kinsford also shifted her attention to Kinsford. “Things were never the same after that,” she mused, fingering the folds of her own gown with agitated fingers. “Nothing seemed quite to please him any more ... and no one. It was very distressing. Very distressing.''

  “Of course it was,” Kinsford agreed, feeling a slight understanding of his stepmother for the first time in years. “Let me get Aria, and then I will send the three of you home. We mustn't clutter up Miss Driscoll's house any longer."

  Lady Kinsford ‘s face softened into a smile. “Can we take Aria home, then? How nice. She should change, though. She looks a fright."

  William grinned at Kinsford's questioning look. “You'll see.''

  * * * *

  The earl found his sister in a most extraordinary costume indeed, with the dog beside her and a watercolor pad on her lap. “Oh, Kinsford, we have been having the most famous time,” Aria cried at sight of him. “Mrs. Traling has had a baby boy and Miss Driscoll is going to bring him in for me to see in a minute."

  “I see.” He folded himself into the rocking chair, as he had on so many previous occasions. “Was this costume intended to convince me of another episode of disorientation, Aria?"

  Aria giggled, not at all discomposed by his knowledge of the truth. “Lord, it seems ages ago. When I heard someone come, I thought it was Will and I went dashing downstairs. I had sent him a note asking him to wear the hussar's uniform. He looks quite dashing, doesn't he? I had decided I would say we were going to a ball because then I could get dressed up. You know, I don't think Miss Driscoll quite believed me, either."

  “I'm not surprised,” Kinsford said dryly. “She's not easily hoodwinked."

  Aria regarded him curiously, then shoved the watercolor toward him. “This is what I've been working on for the last few days. What do you think?"

  All the characters in the drama were there: Kinsford, and William, and Max, and Steven Traling (Aria was working on his wife), and Miss Driscoll, and the maids Meg and Betty, and Lady Kinsford, and Dr. Lawrence. The drawing was a doll's house view of the cottage, with the characters in various rooms, but Lady Aria herself in each room with whoever was there. It was a charming collage of scenes. “Of course, I shall have to add the baby once I've seen him,” she said.

  “What a charming collage!” Kinsford exclaimed. “I suppose this is me, standing over Miss Driscoll wagging my finger."

  Aria ducked her head impishly. “You simply would not believe what a superb creature she is."

  “It has merely taken me a little longer to learn, Aria. I haven't, after all, spent as much time as you have in the country."

  “More's the pity,” murmured his sister.

  Kinsford ruefully agreed. “I have a mind to spend more time here."

  “I had hoped you would.” Aria took back the watercolor pad and ran a finger over the scene of her with bandaged head in the sitting room after the accident. “You're not angry with me about my little deception, are you, Alexander?"

  Before he could answer, Clarissa appeared at the door, holding a small infant wrapped in a soft blanket. The child's tiny fingers were just visible, and its face was red from crying and the exhaustion of being born. Mr. Traling was right behind her.

  “Why, he's beautiful,” Aria exclaimed, earning her Steven's undying gratitude, for the child looked quite ugly to him. Not at all the soft-edged little angel he had expected.

  Steven, without taking his eyes from his son, said, “I'm dreadfully sorry we've taken up your bedchamber, Clarissa. And I don't suppose Jane can be moved for a while."

  ''I'll find a spot in the sitting room,'’ Clarissa replied. “Sometimes one's house does not seem quite large enough."

  Kinsford found that Clarissa was avoiding his eyes, but he only smiled. “There's no need for that, Miss Driscoll. As soon as Aria changes into proper clothes, she and Will are taking their mother back to the Hall."

  “Are we?” Aria asked, disappointed. “But I should like very much to stay and play with the baby, Kinsford."

  “Perhaps another day,” he replied. “The baby is a little young for so much excitement. I'm sure Mr. Traling wishes to return him to his mother. And while you're changing, Aria, Miss Driscoll and I are going to take Max for a walk."

  “Are we?” Clarissa asked uncertainly.

  “We are.” Kinsford decreed.

  * * * *

  Clarissa might have protested, but she did not really object to accompanying his lordship from the cottage. She threw a blue shawl about her shoulders and allowed Kinsford to tie the lead about the dog's neck.

  When the front door closed behind them, Kinsford tucked Clarissa's hand under his arm and began to walk down the lane toward the fields. The day was a little cooler than it had been earlier, and there was a wispy breeze, but the sun shone brightly. Clarissa peeked up at Kinsford, to see what she could read of his face, and found that he was gazing down at her with a most intriguing light in his eyes.

  Her heart would dance in her breast, and she swallowed hard against a sudden and unexpected swell of tears. It had been such a very long time since she had fallen in love with Alexander Barrington. It had been for such a very long time that she had denied that love, or even the remotest interest in this self-contained, slightly haughty, strong, and wonderful man.

  In an expectant but companionable silence they walked toward Clarissa's old home of Pennhurst. Just as it came in sight, they reached the stile where Kinsford had kissed her so many years ago. “Here,” he said, and motioned to the grassy hillock on their right. They seated themselves there, with Max snuffling busily about the bushes, tugging again and again at the lead. Eventually Kinsford, with a shrug of his shoulders, let the lead go and allowed the dog to wander off on his own. “If he gets lost it will serve him right. I dare say you never wanted him in your house at all."

  “I've grown accustomed to him,” Clarissa admitted. “But it's Aria who has fallen in love with him. She would be devastated if he didn't come back."

  “Oh, he'll come back. Never fear. The animal has a very good sense of what is good for him. He even cozied up to me when Franklin brought him to the Hall."

  “No!” Clarissa grinned at him. “Surely the animal didn't realize your importance or he would never have been so presumptuous."

  “Are you mocking me?” He lifted her hand to his lips. “I find that I like that, from you. Have I told you how dearly I love you?"

  “But, Alexander..."

  “Well, if I haven't, I shall tell you now. I am head over e
ars in love with you. I shan't be able to sleep, or eat, or ride if you don't agree to marry me.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I know you fear you will lose your independence. But, my dearest, just look at my stepmama. She does precisely what she wishes, says anything that comes to her mind. Being Lady Kinsford does not necessarily inhibit one's creativity, does it?"

  Clarissa shook her head with amusement. “I must admit I had never looked at it in quite that light. It's not that I don't love you, Alexander,” she admitted softly. “I do love you. When I see you, I am sometimes quite overcome with emotion. And I think of you when you're not with me. But..."

  “But it would make a change in your life, and you are not certain it is entirely advantageous.” He studied her with those intense eyes. “I dare say it won't all be advantageous, Clarissa. There will be onerous duties as a countess, and some constriction of your freedom. Still, you would have my very great encouragement to lead the kind of life you wished."

  “You might forget that if I did something outrageous. Or you might be called back to London and leave me to sort things out here,” she argued, but weakly. He was running a finger tenderly over the contours of her face.

  “If I forget, you will remind me. If I leave for London, I will leave with you. I promise, Clarissa.” He pulled her tightly against his strong chest. “We'll make things work together, because I know I am asking a lot—for you to take on a husband and two rambunctious young people, and an odd and irascible stepmother-in-law. To say nothing of a dog of questionable discrimination.”

  Max had charged up to them and now barked sharply, but they ignored him. Clarissa pulled back from the earl's hold a little to protest, “But you were very irritated with me when you first came to see me last week. Don't you see that that could happen again?"

  “You were doing everything for the children that I should have been doing. I couldn't bear to think of it, especially after what my family had done to you.” When she started to speak, he released her and touched a finger to her lips. “Just remember this one thing. If you don't wish to marry me, there will still be an annuity for you. I could do no less after what you've done for us. You don't have to take on this short-tempered, unreasonable man if you really don't love him."