by Kruger, Mary
“Of course I don’t mind. And do call me Felicity. Beth, you’ll come, won’t you?”
Beth glanced quickly at Julia, and nodded. “Yes, if Mama doesn’t need me.”
“I’ll be here,” Giles said, surprising all of them. “Why do I not have our carriage brought round, and the ladies can all go together?”
“A splendid idea,” Felicity approved. “Whitehead is going to his club, and so he can use our carriage.”
“Good. Then it is settled.” Anne smiled. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll just get my wrap.”
“Oh, and I, too.” Beth followed Anne up the stairs. “I do like Felicity,” she said. “I would so have liked to have her for a sister.”
Anne turned from the landing, to see, in some surprise, that Giles was behind them. “Why? Were she and Giles sweethearts at one time?”
“Oh, no. She was close to our brother Edward, though, when they were young.”
“I didn’t know,” Anne said, her eyes going to Giles’s. His shoulders had stiffened in the way they usually did when his long-dead brother was mentioned.
“Oh, yes, and it was hard on her, wasn’t it, Giles?” Beth went on, heedless. “But she does seem happy with Whitehead.”
“Lord knows why,” Giles said. There was no trace of distress in his face. “He’s one of the dullest people I know.”
“Opposites attract, perhaps,” Anne said. “She seems very nice.”
“She is. But don’t be fooled by her. She’s as sharp as they come. She’ll be a good ally for you.”
“I suspect I’ll need one. Is there something you require, Tremont?”
“I wish you’d use my name,” he said, irritably. “Yes, I’d like you to make certain that Beth has everything she needs.”
“Giles,” Beth protested.
“Of course I will.” Anne’s eyes sparkled. “Will you be visiting your tailor, too? After all, you are a catch.”
“Oh, stubble it,” he muttered.
“Giles,” Anne reproved. “Such language.”
“You’ll hear worse if you continue in this way.”
“Then I think we had best go, don’t you, Beth?”
“Oh, yes.” Beth looked from one to the other, her eyes shining. “But it is so good to hear you teasing each other again.”
Giles and Anne avoided looking at each other. “I have work to do,” he said, stiffly, and turned back down the stairs.
Jamie ran into the front hall as Anne, pulling on her gloves, reached the bottom of the stairs. “May I come, Mommy?”
Anne smiled. “No, Jamie. I’m going shopping, and you’d hate it.”
“I don’t care. I want to go.”
“But you can’t.” Anne’s voice was firm. “Stay here with Nurse, and this afternoon you and I will go out. All right?”
“No! I want to go now!”
“James Robert Templeton, you will not use that tone of voice to me.”
Jamie looked up at her, his lower lip thrust out mutinously, and then lowered his head. “No, Mama.”
“What do you say?”
“I’m sorry, Mama.”
“I know you are.” She reached out and rumpled his curls, and he pulled away, making her sigh. Her little boy was growing up. “Find something to do, Jamie, and the time will pass. I promise.”
“Yes, Mama. Mama!” He launched himself at her as she turned away, throwing his arms around her knees.
Anne swayed a moment, and then regained her balance. “Jamie.”
“Don’t go, Mama,” he said, his voice trembling, and she went down on her knees, uncaring of her gown. “Don’t go.”
“It’s all right, lovey.” She rocked him back and forth as he clutched her about the neck. “I’m just going to get new clothes.”
“Will you come back?”
“Oh, Jamie. Of course I will.” She pulled back, smiling. “I’d never leave you. You’re my little man.”
“Mama, I don’t like it here.”
“I know, lovey, but this is how things are right now. We’ll be all right. Everything will be fine.”
“Word of a Templeton?”
“Word of a Templeton.” Anne got to her feet. “Be a good boy, Jamie,” she said, and turned away, before she disgraced herself before him by breaking down.
Felicity smiled at Anne as she climbed into the carriage. “Your son is a handsome boy,” she said, diplomatically. “How old is he?”
“Five.” Anne sniffled. “Do excuse me. I’m usually not such a watering pot.”
“Oh, but surely he knows you’re coming back,” Beth said.
“I don’t know. He never used to cling so. It’s only since Freddie died. My husband,” she explained to Felicity. “You see, he was just going into Kingston on business. He planned to be back that evening. Instead, he met with an accident on the way home.”
“I am sorry,” Felicity said.
“How did it happen?” Beth asked. “Mama never did tell me.”
“He was dead drunk, of course,” Anne said, matter-of- factly, not looking at them. “He was a good rider, but that stretch of road is tricky at night. We found him the next morning at the bottom of the ravine, and his horse with him.”
“Oh, Anne.” Felicity reached over to lay her hand on Anne’s.
“I’m all right. It’s been hard on Jamie, though. He’s never quite understood why his father never came back with the present he’d promised.” She paused. “Jamie always did believe Freddie when he said he’d bring a present.”
“How nice of a father to think of his son like that.”
“Mm.” Anne avoided Felicity’s sharp glance. Certainly it would have been nice if Freddie had remembered his promises once in a while. She had grown quite adept at comforting a disappointed little boy; the little boy had come to expect broken promises. “I’m all he has, now.”
“Oh, and I think you’re a very good mother, no matter what Mama says.”
For some reason that tickled Anne’s sense of the absurd. “I think I do quite well. Now. It does no good to refine on it overmuch. Jamie has probably forgotten about us already. Let us discuss what we’ll purchase for gowns.”
Beth drew back into the corner of the carriage. “None, I think.”
“None? Whyever not?”
“I don’t plan to go into society.”
“Of course you will, Beth,” Felicity said, smiling. “You’ll quite enjoy it, too.”
Anne reached over to lay her hand on Beth’s. “I know society can be frightening, but I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“I’m not brave like you, Anne.”
“Brave! I’m not brave.”
“You stayed in a strange country with no husband.”
“Jamaica is my home.”
“You must miss it,” Felicity said.
“Oh, I do, terribly, and I think Jamie does, too. I’ll be glad to go back.”
“But Giles said you were staying,” Beth said.
“Did he? Then he’s wrong.”
“Anne! You cannot mean it.”
“Yes.” She gave Beth a quizzical look. “Does no one ever disagree with Giles?”
“No. Only Mama.”
“A shame, isn’t it?” Felicity said.
“Heavens, yes. He’s grown insufferably high in the instep.”
“Anne!” Beth looked shocked, but a little laugh betrayed her. “He’s my brother.”
“He’s a man.” Anne managed to make it sound like an epithet. “At the best of times, men can be obtuse.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Beth murmured, looking down at her hands, and Anne sent her another glance. Had Beth never had any suitors, then? “I thought you almost married Giles.”
Anne’s breath caught in her throat. “Good heavens, that was long ago.”
“Yes, but—”
“‘Tis past, Beth.”
“People will still remember, Anne,” Felicity said quietly, and Anne looked at her. There was only friendliness in her eyes. No censure,
no condemnation.
“I’ll worry about that when I face it. Is this the shop?” she asked as the carriage came to a stop.
Felicity glanced out the window. “Yes, this is Celanie’s. You’ll like her,” she said to Anne as they stepped out. “She’s quite as expensive as the best London modistes.”
Anne smiled, looking at the small, bow-fronted shop with approval. The street was narrow, and old. Nearby were other shops, an apothecary, a linen draper’s, a grocer’s. “Then she must be good. I haven’t been in a shop like this since my season.”
“I never have,” Beth confided, softly.
“Then it’s high time.” Anne stepped back, studying her. Beth was actually quite pretty, or she would be, if she were dressed properly. Thank heavens the style was still for simplicity, which would flatter Beth’s petite figure. The proper coiffure would work wonders, too, instead of those dreary caps Beth insisted on wearing upon her soft brown curls. This was going to be fun. “Shall we go in?”
Inside Madame Celanie came out to greet them, with many bows and protestations at the honor done her. After chatting a moment, they settled down to the serious business of studying fashion plates, having their measurements taken, and choosing gowns. Anne threw caution to the winds. No widow’s mourning for her, or debutante’s pastels, either. The simple styles would suit her admirably, flattering her height, while the slightly fuller skirts would minimize the roundness of her figure. She could afford more ornament, though, than she had as a young girl. Heavens, a lady of fashion needed so much: morning gowns, afternoon gowns, riding habits, and evening gowns. She chose widely, but well. A walking dress in primrose, with ruffles at the sleeves and throat. An afternoon dress in a burnt orange muslin that made her curls shine like burnished gold. Evening gowns, one with a bodice in her favorite dark pink in crepe, with a skirt of white satin; another of turquoise silk shot through with strands of green and gold which would shimmer when she moved. Even Beth, hesitant at first, grew bolder. She chose morning gowns of muslin in white or the palest pastels; afternoon frocks, one in a deeper shade of blue with a ruched neckline, and the other of a lilac muslin that made her eyes look larger and bluer; evening gowns, in delicate apricot silk and jonquil muslin. Of course Susan couldn’t resist purchasing a new frock, either. By the time they left the shop, armed with swatches of fabric to match with shoes, gloves, reticules, and whatever else they might need, they were all giddy with excitement.
“Oh, my!” Beth fell back onto the seat of the carriage, fanning herself with her gloves. “I feel so wicked. I cannot believe I bought so much.”
“I know.” Anne smiled. “Thank heavens Freddie isn’t about to scold me for my extravagance.”
“Anne!”
“Well, ‘tis true.”
“Oh, dear. I don’t dare imagine what Mama will say.”
“Beth, are you happy with what you bought?”
“Oh, yes, but—”
“Then what else is there to say to the matter?”
“Oh, but you don’t know what it’s like when someone criticizes everything you do.”
“Beth.” Anne smiled. “It’s your life, not hers. You need to stop listening to the criticism. I did.”
Beth’s gaze was quizzical. “But who criticized you?”
“Oh, here we are at the milliner’s.” Anne rose before the carriage had even come to a stop. “What a lovely bonnet in the window. I feel certain we’ll do well here. Shall we be extravagant again?”
Beth looked at her for a moment before replying. “Oh, yes,” she said, and followed Anne out of the carriage.
By the time they were done in late afternoon, they had visited not only the milliner, but the mantua maker and the glover and the shoemaker. Finally, satisfyingly tired, they decided they had bought enough for one day and turned toward home, Anne clutching at the paper-wrapped parcel that held her favorite purchase of the day. It was a parasol, the exact shade of primrose as her walking dress, so frilly and lacy it made her feel deliciously feminine. It had been a long time since she had worn something that made her feel pretty.
As they came out of the last shop, a landau carrying two fashionably dressed women, one of indeterminate age, the other closer to Anne’s age, drew near. Parasols raised to ward off the sun, they glanced at Anne and her companions. “My heavens!” Anne said. “Is that Letitia Starling in that landau, with her mother? Why, I haven’t seen her in years!”
“She is Lady Buckram now,” Felicity said. “Anne—”
“So she finally brought the earl up to scratch? I’d love to speak with her. Letitia was one of my dearest friends when I made my come-out.”
“Anne, I’m not sure that’s wise—”
“Why not?” Anne raised her hand and smiled. Inside the landau Mrs. Starling made a gesture. The bewigged coachman slowed, ever so slightly, and the two women smiled and nodded at Felicity. Then, facing forward, they drove away, leaving Anne to stare after them in shock. Good heavens! They had snubbed her.
“Well!” Felicity said, in ringing tones that broke Anne out of her shock. “I never did like Beatrice Starling, but this is the outside of enough!”
“Felicity.” Anne smiled a little and touched her arm. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Matter? No, of course not, rude, ill-bred people like that don’t matter a jot.”
“Felicity!” Anne said, scandalized and delighted at once. “They’ll hear you.”
“I should hope so. Of all the nerve.”
“I should have expected it.” Anne stepped into the carriage. “I’ve been warned. Still.” Her voice was wistful. “Letitia and I were once friends.”
“Well, you have new friends now,” Felicity said.
“Thank you, Felicity.” Anne flashed her a smile. “That means much to me.” It was a difficult world she’d returned to, she reflected, as the carriage drove off. If even people she’d once counted as friends cut her, what would those who hadn’t liked her be like? It didn’t bear thinking about.
They stopped at the Whiteheads’ house, to leave Felicity and Susan off, and then headed toward home. Anne’s spirits picked up. There was what really mattered to her, her son. The misgivings she had felt intermittently throughout the day, about leaving Jamie while she shopped, at last faded. Most likely he hadn’t missed her as much as she had missed him. She only hoped he hadn’t got himself into mischief.
Benson bowed as he opened the door for them. “His Grace would like to see you, ma’am,” he said.
“Me?” Beth said in a quaking voice.
“I believe he means me, Beth,” Anne said, smiling resolutely. It needed only this. “Has Jamie been up to some mischief, Benson?”
“That’s not for me to say, ma’am. Although I do believe the punishment his Grace administered was fair.”
Anne stared at him and then bolted down the hall. The nerve of him! No one had the right to discipline her son but herself. No one had the right to lay a hand on him. No one.
“How dare you!” she exclaimed, flinging the door of the book-room open.
Giles, sitting at his desk, rose with alacrity. “Anne?”
“How dare you lay a hand on my son!”
“Sit down,” Giles said, so firmly, that, to her own surprise, she did just that. “Now what is this all about?”
“You punished my son.” Her hands clutched at the arms of the chair, her knuckles white. “What right had you—”
“Every right. Do you know what he did?”
“I know my son. He’s a good boy and he does what I tell him.”
“Oh, yes.” Giles’s tone was ironic. “You told him to find something to do.”
“Yes.” Anne eyed him. “What did he do?”
“He went exploring, up into the attics. He decided to see what was in the trunks, and got closed up in one of them.”
“Dear God.” Anne’s hand flew to her mouth. “I should have been here. Is he all right?”
“He is fine. Fortunately for James there w
as a maid nearby, and she heard him. She thought he was our ghost.”
“But he’s not hurt?”
“No, other than a sore bottom.”
Anne jumped to her feet. “You hit him!”
“I spanked him, yes,” he said, calmly. “I think even you would agree it was called for.”
“I do not hit my son.”
“Perhaps that’s why he screamed so. He doesn’t take his punishment like a man.”
“Because he is only a little boy,” she said through gritted teeth.
“It is high time he started growing up. I faced worse punishments as a boy.”
“And that makes it right?”
“Anne, James is not hurt. Afterwards he said he was sorry, and we had a talk. If you don’t believe me, go and see for yourself.”
“Oh, I shall. But you and I will have a talk about this. You had no right to do what you did.”
“May I remind you, I am his guardian.”
“It still doesn’t give you the right to beat him.”
“I do not beat children! Oh, for God’s sake.” He rose. Go see to him. You’ll see he’s fine.”
“He had better be.” Anne stopped at the door, staring at him coldly. “Because if he is not, we are going home, no matter what you say.” With that, she swept out, slamming the door behind her.
“Oh, Mrs. Templeton.” Nurse jumped to her feet as Anne came into Jamie’s room. “I’m that sorry about what happened.”
“Is Jamie all right?”
“Yes, ma’am. More scared than anything, I’d say. He’s asleep, poor lamb.”
“Nurse, I do not want that man coming near Jamie again. He had no right to do what he did.”
“Well, ma’am, Jamie did do wrong. And it was only one spank. His Grace stopped as soon as he saw how frightened Jamie was.”
“He did?”
“Yes, ma’am. And then he talked with Jamie. Really, he was very good, ma’am. He’s good with children.”
“Thank you, Nurse.” Anne took her elbow and guided her to the door. “Why don’t you go to your room for a rest? I’ll see to Jamie.”
Jamie was sprawled on his stomach on his bed, fast asleep, his mouth slightly open and his curls tousled. Nowhere on his flushed cheeks could she see even a trace of tears. Just one spank? That wasn’t so bad as she’d feared, and perhaps, as much as she hated physical punishment, Jamie had deserved it. He was an active, mischievous boy. “How is it you look like such an angel now?” she whispered, straightening the tangled covers about him, and then laid her hand on his hair, feeling chilled. “Jamie, you didn’t tell him anything about Papa, did you?” Jamie muttered something in his sleep, making her smile. “Never mind, lovey. I’ll deal with it.”