Secrets of a Spinster

by Rebecca Connolly

  “And if this very good friend had a sister who, through her own childish fit of flightiness and rash thinking, made a decision that the whole of Society chose to constantly remind her of and cut her for, wouldn’t you do what you could for her?”

  Colin’s mouth, which had never closed, hung gaping.

  “You’re right, Colin, in saying they were my sisters. I know them better than my own sister, as strange and probably disgraceful as that sounds. I seem to be one of very few people who can see beyond what Society does and value what is there.”

  Silence met his ears and, more than a little worried, he glanced up to find Colin still gaping. “What?” he asked roughly.

  Colin finally closed his mouth, then thought for a moment. “I have two things to say. One, that was the most impassioned speech I have ever heard you give in the whole course of my life, and I have known you for a decent portion of the course of my life.”

  “Colin…”

  “Two… you are right.”

  Geoff was surprised, to say the least. “I am?” he asked.

  Colin nodded. “Perfectly. I may not show it much, but I don’t appreciate the way some speak of my brother. Many think him very respectable, some think him very mysterious, but there are some who feel the need to spread rumors and make mischief, and bandy about my twin’s name. It drives me to distraction. I understand, Geoff.”

  “Yes,” Geoff said slowly, watching his jovial friend’s sudden somberness with interest. “Yes, I see that you do.”

  They sat in silence for a long moment, each of them lost in their deep and rather unpleasant thoughts.

  “I’m terribly sorry, I thought Geoff and Colin were in here, not two gravediggers,” Duncan joked from the doorway, looking at the two of them with amusement and a little worry.

  Both shook themselves and looked over at him. “Have you eaten your fill?” Colin asked with a wild grin that hid any hint of his former dark thoughts.

  “You know better than that,” Duncan scolded, smiling a touch. “It would take more food than you have to fill me.”

  “Of course, of course, all the food in London would hardly suffice for you,” Colin replied with a nod.

  “Everything all right in here?” Duncan asked, looking between the two once more. “You looked as if somebody might have died.”

  Geoff smiled. “Nobody died that we know of. Colin and I were merely talking about the idiocy of Londoners.”

  “And you couldn’t wait for me? I thrive upon berating Society as a whole!”

  That broke any of the remaining tension and the three of them laughed for a long while, then began discussing more pleasant, light subjects.

  Duncan and Geoff parted ways as they left Colin’s home, each having his own tasks to complete and people to see. Geoff, for one, was anxious to be safely ensconced in his home rather than relying on inns and the hospitality of others as he had been doing of late.

  He had spent the last few months with Duncan, who was fond of travel and didn’t care when he did so or if the location were remotely interesting. Why Geoff had accepted, he still didn’t know. He was much more prone to staying at home, enjoying comfortable evenings with friends, and leaving the adventures of life to those more energetic than he.

  But when his friend had come to him and invited him along, he agreed to go. After all, Nathan and Derek had married, or rather, in Derek’s case, had decided to actually enjoy his marriage, and Colin… Well, they had long since learned that travelling with Colin was not exactly a wise idea. He was not as hardy as he supposed himself to be.

  What had initially been thought to be a month long excursion had now been four, thanks to Duncan’s eagerness and Geoff’s disinterest in complaining. He was impossibly tired and really had no desire to be in a saddle again for a very long time.

  The season would start in a matter of weeks, and then he would have to have his guard up again. Every year some desperate girl, or her even more desperate mother, would try to get him to court and marry her. Those who had been around for a while or had daughters who had left the Marriage Mart with success knew his inclination and so they had ceased attempting to gain his attention. He very much appreciated those people.

  He sighed as he neared his home and tried to think of something to look forward to. At least Mary would be around. She was the one bright part of those blasted things. She would voice the things he would only think, and the two of them would laugh as quietly and delicately as possible, which was proving to be harder as the years went on. She was quite an unusual woman. She never complained that she rarely danced, though he danced with her every chance he could. She cared little for fashion, which was a little refreshing, if not outright astounding. She was a rare one, his Goose. One of these days, though, one of them would marry, and that would be it.

  But neither of them were so now, and that was good enough for him.

  As long as Mary was around, London would always be worth visiting.

  He smiled to himself and pushed his horse on a little faster, remembering his plans for taking the girls to the theater tomorrow evening. He loved taking Mary to the theater.

  It was one of the few things in life she actually, and very vocally, detested.

  London was looking brighter already.

  Chapter Three

  “I am so bored,” Cassandra moaned morosely from a sofa in the corner, setting aside the needlepoint she had been attempting to complete for nearly three years now. Cassandra was always bored and had no patience for needlework.

  Mary barely refrained from rolling her eyes and brought her eyes back down to the book she had been reading. There always seemed to be some sort of interruption whenever she got anywhere good in something as delightful as Pride and Prejudice. It was really quite annoying.

  A mournful, desperate sigh was heard a few moments later and Mary closed her eyes and gathered all of her patience, then set her book down and looked over at her sister. “What is it, Cassie?”

  Her sister adopted a look of feigned surprise and her pale blue eyes went wide. “Oh, I’m sorry, could you hear that?”

  Mary smiled tightly. “Yes, Cassie. I would much rather ignore you and continue reading, but as your sighs are very distracting, I cannot. What is it?”

  She looked as though she would argue the point, then decided against it. “I only wish there was something to do! I can’t just sit here and pretend to work on this wretched thing anymore.”

  “Try reading,” Mary suggested dryly.

  Cassandra shook her head. “It gives me a headache.”

  “Play the pianoforte.”

  “I don’t feel like it.”

  “Go for a walk.”

  “It looks like rain.”

  “Sketch something.”

  “No.”

  Mary sighed and closed her book. “Cassie, you are being more surly than normal. You are being difficult and juvenile, which is not like you. You hardly ate anything at breakfast, you have not sat still all morning, and you are quite frankly putting me at my wit’s end. What in the world is the matter with you? Are you determined to be miserable?”

  Instantly, her sister clamped her lips together in a thin line and looked away. Mary frowned at that. While Cassandra was a little dramatic and sometimes rather childish, she never hesitated to speak.

  “Cassie?”

  Her sister wiped at her eyes and shook her head.

  Mary rose from her chair and sat next to her sister, forcing her to meet her gaze. “Cassie.”

  Cassandra said nothing for a long moment, then said, in a very low voice, “I received a letter this morning. From Felicity Wyndham.”

  Mary slowly let out a breath. “What did she say?”

  Cassie swallowed. “That she expects to be married by the end of the season to Mr. Patrick Gray. He is the gentleman from Shropshire who has…”

  “Twenty thousand pounds, yes I know,” Mary interrupted. “So what is the problem? Shouldn’t you be happy for your friend?”


  “I am,” Cassandra said slowly.

  “What is it, then?”

  “She… she wants me to be there, but doesn’t know how her mother would feel. Or Society.”

  In Mary’s very humble opinion, Mrs. Wyndham and the rest of Society could take their feelings and toss them in the stables with the horse droppings. But this was probably why Mary would never get married. These wild opinions, however humble or true, were far from proper.

  “I should never have refused him, Mary,” Cassie whispered, fresh tears forming. “I loved him so much and he loved me, and he wanted to spend the rest of our lives together. And I said no!” She dissolved into sobs, and Mary gathered her up as best as she could, wondering how long this would go on.

  “Cassie,” she tried to soothe, running her hand gently over her sister’s hair, “you know why you refused him. You hated the idea of being a Navy bride. And you were eighteen, hardly old enough to make such an important decision.”

  “He said we could wait! He asked if I would wait for him! I could have waited, Mary, I could have!”

  “But you hate the sea.”

  “But I love him!”

  Mary tried not to sigh again, but she was quite at a loss as to what to do. Every now and again since that fateful day when Cassandra Hamilton refused Simon Wyndham, there were moments of complete abandonment of emotional self-control, and Mary had tried everything from suggesting she run after Lieutenant Wyndham to volunteering information about a lovely convent in Yorkshire. No suggestions had ever been taken well. So she was left to just repeating the same inane arguments that Cassie herself had made before, which had sounded ridiculous to Mary the first time she had heard them.

  And it always ended just like this, with Mary holding her brokenhearted sister, who was destined to be as dramatic about this in ten years as she was now. And every time, Mary ended up wishing she knew what she could do to make it all go away.

  “Cassie, we really need to find a way to stop all of this,” Mary said as she rubbed her sister’s back gently.

  “Stop all of what?” she sniffled, pulling back.

  Mary gave her a look that should have told her, quite plainly, that she did not believe her ignorance at all. “I know you are hurt, but there is no reason to give up your future.”

  “Simon was my future!” Cassandra wailed, flinging herself back onto her rather forcefully. “I am nothing without him. I cannot go anywhere, I cannot see anyone, and no one will ever love me again!”

  Mary groaned inwardly and, this time, did not refrain from rolling her eyes. At first, this behavior had worried her, as had the moments of listlessness and desperation to never be alone. Now it merely drove her mad.

  But she could not very well let it alone. Whether she liked it or not, Cassie depended on her. The rest of the family had given up on the both of them, and so she had to do something.

  “Here’s a thought,” Mary said after a moment, knowing she would regret her words later. “I have had enough with London and all its frivolity and bustling idiocy. I’ve already been thinking that this is going to be my final season before I hang up my dance card for good. What if I make a lark of it all, and I prance around like a debutante for the whole of it?”

  The wailing ceased and her sister stilled. “A debutante? How do you mean?”

  “Exactly the way it sounds. I will mold myself into the same sort of girl that fills every dance hall during the season.”

  “Do you mean… you will flirt and look ridiculous and simper?”

  Already the regret started in. “Yes,” Mary agreed with a wince.

  “And you will get all new gowns and change your hair?”

  Mary closed her eyes on a reluctant sigh. “Yes, and I will bite my tongue.”

  “You don’t speak at all in public.”

  “I mutter,” Mary admitted grudgingly. “Anybody in the vicinity would hear.” And have heard, she thought to herself. More than one unsuspecting patron of society had choked on a beverage when in her presence and had been privy to her snide remarks.

  “Will you go to more events? Balls and parties and the theater?”

  “Yes.” She bit the inside of her cheek at that concession, but if it really were her last season, why not? “But you must come with me and get out yourself. You must agree to that or I will not do it. That is my one condition.”

  Cassandra looked unconvinced, trying to find the trick in this plot.

  But Mary was quick. “Somebody has to laugh at me and remind me who I really am. Think of how ridiculous I will be.”

  Her expression cleared and she giggled. “Oh, heavens, that will be a sight.” She sniffled once and smiled just a bit. “That would cheer me up a great deal, Mary.”

  “Well, I do live my life to please you.”

  Cassie flashed a brief grin. “Very well, I agree.” Then she sobered. “What if we both end up lonely, alone, and old, Mary?” she asked quietly and very seriously.

  “I probably will,” Mary said without concern.

  That somehow coaxed a hint of a laugh from her. “Oh, Mary, how can you be so droll?”

  “I have worked very hard at it,” Mary assured her. She took her sister’s hand in her own. “I may end up alone and old, Cassie. I know very well that being twenty-seven and remarkably plain limits my options. But you don’t have to. You are young and beautiful and bright. You can have everything.”

  “I don’t think there is anything left for me,” Cassie replied, sounding the most serious Mary had ever heard her. She sat back and sniffled, wiping at her nose with the back of her hand. “We are quite the pair of miserable spinsters, are we not?”

  “It would appear so,” Mary admitted. “But I refuse to call you a spinster until you are at least twenty-five. No woman was ever a spinster at one and twenty.”

  “One who shall never be happy again is,” Cassie muttered with finality.

  Mary tried not to stiffen at her sister’s continued despondency, but she couldn’t help it. “The difference between your situation and mine, Cassandra, is that you had a man confess his love for you. I never had any man try.” She rose quickly and removed herself back to the chair she had vacated and picked up her book again, beginning where she had left off, her sister remarkably silent.

  It was not until Miss Elizabeth Bennet had reached the grounds of Pemberley that Cassie spoke again. “I am so bored. Where is Geoffrey? He always cheers me up.”

  This time Mary did sigh aloud and rolled her head back to look at her sister. “He is off with Mr. Bray, Cassie, as I have told you. And I think that Geoff has quite a good deal more pleasant things to do than being forced to entertain the spinsterly Hamilton sisters like a strange performing monkey.”

  “Not really,” came a low, rather well-known voice that sent a smile careening off of her cheekbones.

  “Geoffrey!” Cassie cried in delight, leaping from her seat and racing to the doorway in which the owner of the voice currently stood.

  “Your own personal performing monkey, at your service,” replied Geoff, a smile evident in his tone.

  Mary rose from her chair, tossing her book down onto it, and allowed herself an overt examination of her best friend, who was now being joyously mauled by her sister.

  He looked well, which was not surprising, as he always looked far too well for her taste. But today the color of his waistcoat magnified the blue of his eyes, and his blonde hair looked ever-so-slightly ruffled, which was not usual, but suited him well. The challenges of having an attractive best friend were many, chief of which was that one always wanted to look at him. And often did so.

  There was no shame in that, surely.

  “Well, I do love being warmly greeted, but this is certainly a change,” Geoffrey chuckled as he extricated himself from Cassandra’s hold. “What was that for?”

  “I am hardly sufficient entertainment for my sister today,” Mary said with a melodramatic sigh. “She is bored beyond reason and since I am the least exciting person we
all know, any change in the situation is a relief.”

  “Oh, come now, Mary, I hardly think you are the least exciting person we all know,” he scolded with a smile as he came over and took her hand. “As it happens, I know for a fact that there are quite a number of people who are less exciting than you.” He quirked a brow and gave her a teasing bow of greeting.

  “That is because you are deluded into thinking that the random mutterings of a runaway mouth are amusing,” Mary replied as she curtseyed, priding herself on her wit.

  He snickered and dropped himself into the chair nearest her. “That’s not why, you goose. I just know all of the stories about sweet Mary Hamilton that might not live up to her reputation.” He smiled up at her proudly, and she rolled her eyes and sat back into her chair.

  “You know that every single one of those stories happened because you spurned me on,” Mary argued, unable to help smiling herself.

  He shrugged. “That’s probably true. And speaking of stories…” He leaned forward and gave her a look. “When were you going to tell me that you spilled the true details, to which you were sworn to secrecy, of my little fountain prank to Diana Beckham?”

  Mary’s brain froze and her lips parted in shock. That had been years ago. He was never supposed to know that she had let the secret slip. “She was not Diana Beckham then,” she said in a small voice.

  “Mary.”

  She sighed and sat back in her chair. “We were sixteen, Geoff. Diana had come over and we were just…” She paused and threw him a severe look. “Have you ever tried keeping a secret from Diana?”

  “I have never had to,” he offered with another shrug.

  “It’s not possible. But I swore her to secrecy as well, Geoff, I swear.”

  “Mary!” Geoffrey cried in dismay. “You know Diana cannot keep secrets from Derek! The rest of the world, maybe, but not Derek!”

  “So she told her brother,” Mary said without concern, trying not to smile. “Why is that so monumental?”

  “Because Derek Chambers cannot keep a secret from anybody.” Geoff sighed and frowned over at her again. “What, was twenty pounds not good enough for you?” His tone was severe, but there was a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.