After a moment, Michael looked up, then at his brother Tom. “Why is she so anxious?”
Tom looked up at his brother’s question, listening to the music. “I don’t know.” They both looked at James.
“How do you know she is anxious?” James asked.
“The music,” both brothers answered together. James looked perplexed, so Michael explained. “She’s playing quickly – too quickly. This ditty will end and she’ll begin another right away.” The men waited. Sure enough, there was a brief pause and Dahlia launched into another song, the notes struck just a hair sooner than the tempo would have indicated.
He knew, of course, why she was anxious, but couldn’t tell her brothers. “I couldn’t tell you,” he said honestly, if evasively. The ability of her brothers to tell her moods by how and what she played intrigued him, and he made a mental note of how Michael had determined her present mood.
Steven did not return to the house when everyone was called to dinner, and Dahlia and James took their seats looking earnestly at one another. Dahlia was worried that Don Alvaro had refused, and her brother, heartbroken, was off somewhere alone. James was worried that the Roma had, this time, actually acted upon their armed threats from six years ago and Steven might never return. Indeed, perhaps his body might never be found.
Dahlia’s father did not seem the least bit distressed that his son was not at the table. Either he knew on what errand Steven had gone or he merely thought Steven had gone to sup with the Roma. In any event, the dinner conversation was quiet, a bit strained. Halfway through the meal, however, they heard the main door open and close, followed by boot steps approaching the dining room. Everyone looked up to see Steven in the doorway. His face was guarded and Dahlia wasn’t sure what answer he had received. He approached the table, poured himself a glass of wine, and raised it in a toast.
“He said yes!” The table erupted in cheers and congratulations from Squire Talbot, James, and Dahlia. Tom and Michael looked at each other quizzically.
“Who said yes?”
“To what?”
“I have asked for Maripaz’s hand in marriage, and Don Alvaro gave his consent! We are to be married in two weeks!”
Chapter 31
James watched the countryside through the train window as it sped him back to London. The week he had spent in Cirencester was one of the most magnificent of his life. The only consolation to his departure was his invitation to Steven and Maripaz’s wedding the following week. He had already delayed his studies by the stopover and was expected back at university. He would take the train back on Friday afternoon after his classes and spend the weekend before returning indefinitely to the city.
He thought about the fact that the wedding would strengthen and formalize the relationship between the Talbots and the Roma. Perhaps it was fate that the two had formed an alliance of friendship years before, setting the grounds for Alvaro’s consent. Surely he would not have considered the suit of just any ‘outsider,’ for that was how any non-Roma was considered. If that was the truth, James had to think that fate was also taking a hand in his association with the Talbots. He already felt very much a part of that family having lived in their home and participated in all of their daily activities side-by-side with them. This proximity had formalized his intents with regards to Dahlia. He knew that society would dictate that intents for marriage be formed first, then the feelings between the designated parties of the couple – with the best hopes those feelings would approximate love. He, however, had formed his attachment to Dahlia first and found, through providence and good luck, that her family and situation were just as agreeable. He smiled thinking about his feelings for Dahlia. He had first thought they were mere infatuation for her talent, pretty face, and fierce spirit. He was now convinced otherwise.
He had fallen in love with Dahlia the first night he met her, but had minimized his feelings because of her age. Until he heard of Steven’s attachment to Maripaz when they were both children, an attachment that had stood the test of time and distance to culminate in their marriage, he feared his feelings for Dahlia bordered on unnatural given the six-year difference in their ages. He had been embarrassed to talk about a thirteen year old girl with his friends in London, and any association about which one was embarrassed to have known must be wrong.
Dahlia was a child no longer, though, and time would also alleviate the perceived gap in their ages that was so pronounced when they met at Christmas time. James smiled. He had known Dahlia less than six months, but she had had a birthday during that time, inching her closer and closer to the age when it would be acceptable for them to court. For the first time, James knew patience with regards to a female. For Dahlia, he would wait and wait – three or four years if necessary. Like the history of Steven and Maripaz, the time would be well-spent forming a strong bond with her brothers and father, and he would improve his own situation finishing his education so he would be in a position to make a living. He would also make more of an effort with his uncle to improve his probability of inheriting the old codger’s estate. For once, James thought time was very much on his side.
James arrived at the London townhouse after dinner. He found his uncle in his study, along with Lord Stanmer. For once, he did not retreat to his room at the prospect of having to converse with both men. He had a mission, now, and winning over his uncle – as well as his stuffy old friend – was part of that.
He sat down next to the fire across from Lord Stanmer and actually ordered a cordial from the butler.
“Uncle,” started James confidently. “You have no idea of the favor you have done me.” His uncle, seated at his desk, raised an eyebrow and flashed a look at Lord Stanmer. He gave them an account of his apprenticeship in Shropshire. It was true he had learned a great deal of practical considerations on which the books don’t tend to expound, and he had made a good impression on the senior advisors that he knew would get back to Mr. Shaw – and therefore to his uncle. He did, however, embellish on even the smallest details of his work there.
“I also have been commissioned on a small architectural drawing project,” he boasted. It was the truth, after a fashion. Squire Talbot had asked him to design a training pen for Dahlia so she could continue to train the horses without worrying about appearances.
James had raced the mountain with Dahlia, and he had let her ride astride as promised. She was brilliant. As he had noted when she met the colt, there was no fear in her. She rode as fast as her mount would carry her. She leaned low over its neck to duck branches and they flew over logs and other obstacles in the path that wound its way around the mountain. James had laughed at that little mount when they left the stable. Instead of the larger geldings in the barn, she had chosen the smallest. When he asked her about it, she said Paco was a horse her father had bought her from the Roma when she was seven. Don Alvaro had promised it was the best mount to keep his daughter safe – a mountain horse from the north, as sure footed as a goat. That was one of the first tests of trust between Don Alvaro and Squire Talbot, one of many they each passed over the years. Paco always brought Dahlia back to Talbot Hall safely. He had spirit, just like his rider, and knew how to maneuver on mountain terrain, as Don Alvaro had promised.
The day of the Roma fair, there were riding exhibitions and Dahlia rode one of the Roma Andalusians. James thought the horse was too big and powerful for her, but she rode it as easily as if she were waltzing. The horse pranced, and swirled, and cantered in place. Seeing what Dahlia could do with the horses – without any hope of accomplishing it with force or fear – convinced James that she needed to continue training. It was a thing of beauty to watch her ride. She performed the exhibition riding astride, but Matty had sewn the most enormous skirt for her to properly cover the form of her legs. When she dismounted, however, she had to scoop up all the extra fabric just to walk.
Alvaro, when consulted about the matter, told them of a high-walled round riding pen used in Spain for training the horses. Although the desi
gn had the training of the horse free hand, without a lunge line constraining its movements during training, it also would allow a place for Dahlia to train without worrying about her clothing. So they had agreed one should be built, and Peter Talbot had asked James to do the designs.
“I will deliver the designs personally next weekend,” James explained to his uncle. “I am also invited to be a guest at the wedding of Squire Talbot’s son. I will only be gone for the weekend so I can return to my classes the following week.”
As expected, James had caught his uncle completely off guard. He did not object to James returning to Cirencester. He made very little comment at all except to nod and say, “Capital. As it should be.”
The evening following his return to the city, James paid a call to Miss McElroy to tell her of his visit, and to hand deliver her invitation to the wedding. James explained that her brothers Mark and Leland were also invited and they would all escort her to Cirencester. As expected, she made much ado of having three dashing young men be her escorts, and claimed that her reputation would be changed forever – for the better!
She wanted to know all the news from Talbot Hall, and James spared no details in describing his week there. Three hours later, she was apprised of even the most intimate details, for she was not afraid to inquire as to the relationship between Dahlia and James and he was not ashamed to oblige her.
James was somewhat more circumspect with regards to his feelings for and intents towards Dahlia in his letter to his mother. He mentioned Dahlia as part of the Talbot family, and went on to praise her accomplishments as a horsewoman as preface to his first commission for architectural drawings. As with his uncle, there was no need to put her on guard about a marriage that couldn’t take place for years yet and would no doubt cause her worry about the steady, albeit small, income he sent her regularly from his uncle’s allowance.
The days that week vanished one by one as James worked on the designs for Dahlia’s training structure, went to classes, consulted with his professors to double-check the designs and calculations, and even had a new velvet coat made for the wedding.
A carriage arrived at the townhouse Friday afternoon to take him to the train station. Inside were Mark and Leland, who both greeted James enthusiastically. The moment he was settled in, the door closed, a barrage of questions assaulted him regarding the courtship and proposal of Steven and Maripaz. Apparently, the couple had kept their love quite a good secret all these years and the brothers were just as surprised as Dahlia to hear of it. Wondering whether he could keep his affections for Dahlia a secret for half as long, James asked his own questions regarding any hints whatsoever that, at least in hindsight, might have given Mark and Leland an inkling of what transpired between the couple.
“No,” replied Mark confidently. “After the initial incident when he tried to kiss her and nearly lost life and limb over it, he was particularly careful around her.”
“She never went out of her way to indicate any partiality either. We figured she had quite forgotten their first encounter. Apparently, she did not!” added Leland.
“I’ve heard stories of childhood sweethearts growing up and getting married,” Mark confessed. “But only in romance novels!”
They arrived at Miss McElroy’s house, and all three young men got out to call at her door. As expected, she made much of her dashing young escorts and, together, they were a merry party on the trip to Cirencester laughing and joking and telling outrageous stories. Miss McElroy’s were by far the most scandalous, and reached the point that the young men’s thresholds for disbelief were taxed. Knowing it was Miss McElroy, however, they reserved the smallest degree of credibility for their accuracy.
When they reached their destination, Lord Bathurst and Dahlia were waiting on the platform. James should have guessed she would meet her brothers, but at the sight of her, happy and expectant, waving to them, he could easily imagine her always being there to greet him at the end of his journeys. After official welcomes were completed, Lord Bathurst and Miss McElroy got in his chaise as she would be staying at Cirencester Park, and James and the Talbots made for Talbot Hall in their carriage.
As James entered the brightly lit manor house and was greeted by Squire Talbot, Matty, Dahlia’s other brothers and a handful of Roma, he felt like he was home again. Everyone was excited about the wedding and Talbot Hall nearly hummed with constant activity as more guests were settled in and preparations were made. The kitchens were dangerous for anyone who didn’t belong there as pies, cakes, and breads were manufactured by the dozens in between meals for the entire household that was packed to capacity.
James left his guestroom the next morning and was nearly knocked over by the housekeeper, Glenda, as she rushed down the hall with clean linens. “Sorry, darlin’!” she called back over her shoulder in her wake.
James smiled and continued downstairs, cautiously looking around corners before venturing into adjacent hallways. The pace was no different below. Dahlia, Matty and the Pedraza girls were in the parlor making up wedding favors for the guests. Tom and Michael were tying ribbons around the little packages and laughing as Dahlia scolded them for not curling the ends. They looked up as James entered. “Turn back now, James! Save yourself!” they yelled, but it was too late. Dahlia already had him by the arm and was sitting him in a chair by the table with his own allotment of favors to finish.
“Gotta be quicker than that, James,” said Tom, shaking his head, a rueful smirk on his face. James watched the girls as they carefully and so quickly put the favors together and passed them on to the boys for the ribbons. The girls were working quicker than the boys, however, and after about an hour, their table was empty, but the boys’ table with the little bundles needing ribbons was still covered. The girls therefore migrated over to assist them and the boys were subjected to jeers about the effectiveness of the females versus the males.
“Easy for you to say, Dahlia,” countered Tom. “Look at the size of your hands compared to ours.” Dahlia looked to James’ hands first. He followed her line of sight and held up his hand, to which she held up hers. Tom and Michael were justified in their handicap by the demonstration, but James didn’t hear them. He just concentrated on the delicate, slender hand pressing against his. It disappeared too quickly and went back to its task of ribbon tying, but she glanced up at him and smiled when she thought no one would notice.
Although James was quite content to continue with his tasks next to Dahlia, Tom and Michael were waiting for the first opportunity that presented itself to be doing something – anything – else. Alfonso turned out to be their savior when he came in the house and asked for some assistance with the heavy kegs of ale and wine. Dahlia’s brothers jumped up immediately, grabbing James by the arm and telling Dahlia they were sorry to have to leave the rest of the favors to them.
“Men,” said Matty, shaking her head. “Always good for runnin’ off for excitement when there’s a big task to be done at home.”
Lady Sweet and Miss McElroy joined the girls shortly thereafter and they settled into the task while Miss McElroy gave them all the news from London. As usual, her accounts of friends and acquaintances, rumors and gossip, were related with exaggerated facial expressions and hand movements that had everyone laughing. Dahlia looked around the room at the circle of women, and recognized she felt true contentment. She had good friends, confidants, mentors, and with Steven’s marriage to Maripaz, a sister-in-law. Dahlia realized that this was the circle of women that the Gaggle imitated; a collection of females talking about what they supposed young women should do and be could never approximate the truth of being one’s self among other women who were likewise true to themselves. Dahlia felt sorry for the girls in the Gaggle, convinced that they would never be as blissfully happy as she was among this group.
Dahlia could not help but continue her observations throughout the weekend. Her small, but important group of female friends were a circle amidst a greater circle of family and community that kep
t extending out in first concentric, then overlapping circles. Her circles connected with that of the Roma – first by friendship and now by marriage. The Sweets circle definitely intersected with hers, as did those of the other Quartermasters – to varying degrees. Although she had not met them yet, her connection to Miss McElroy and Matilda provided a tangential relationship with their families and circles of friends. The circles began to accumulate in her mind like a fistful of the Roma’s bangled bracelets strewn on a table. She wondered how many circles of friends, family, and acquaintances would be added to the mix over the years. Surely many others as her five brothers became associated with the families of their wives, and the family of her own husband…should she marry. She could not help but look to find James among the crowded rooms as she thought of a possible match. He was the only boy for whom she had ever had any particular feelings, but at just fourteen, was he simply a first crush that she would remember sweetly or would he turn out to be the one with whom she was destined to travel through life? Would their circles intersect permanently like those of Steven and Maripaz, or would their circles merely bump into one another only to split apart?
Chapter 32
At the wedding of her fair-haired brother to the darkly exotic Roma beauty, Dahlia realized why weddings filled the imaginations of young women with romantic thoughts of their own marriages. Any girl who watched Steven’s face as he waited in front of the altar and gazed at his approaching bride would be compelled to hope her groom looked upon her with such love and adoration and expectation. Dahlia looked from the face of her brother to that of Maripaz. She was a vision in her wedding dress – a combination of traditional British style accented by her own Roma jewelry and a white lace veil that framed her honey-toned face and fell down her back in undulating layers from the high manta comb tucked into her hair. Dahlia knew they only saw each other in the crowded church, and each measured step Maripaz took brought her life and Steven’s closer and closer together. Neither partner appeared nervous as she had heard couples to be on their wedding day. Instead, each looked blissfully happy and only anxious to reach one another at the altar and to begin their life together. She had asked Maripaz how she knew Steven was the right man, especially given their relationship had been developed during a scant month each year. Her answer was given with a shrug and the simple statement: you just know.
Dahlia's Music Page 21