Lady Cardington was in a position to speak candidly. All the women present, except for her two daughters, were either elderly or already married. Or out of the running, Lizzie amended to herself, thinking of her own situation. Lizzie thought wryly of the previous visits they had paid that day. In those drawing rooms there were other women who had been just as sure where Geoffrey would be casting his favor—and it was not at the eldest Miss Cardington.
“We anticipate his offer any day,” Lady Cardington said. “I’m quivering all over, as though I were sitting on pins and needles.” She made several sharp movements up and down in her chair to dramatize this pronouncement.
Lady Cardington was the wrong person to imagine quivering all over. Lizzie quickly turned her eyes away, hoping she could prevent the image from lodging in her head. As she did so, she found herself staring right into the large brown eyes of Lucinda Cardington.
She proffered the teapot in Lizzie’s direction. “More tea, Mrs. Somerville?”
Having never actually been married, Lizzie was finding that to be continually addressed as Mrs. Somerville was unnerving. She told herself she would get used to it in time—the way a callus grows over skin that is repeatedly chafed. She extended her cup. “Yes, thank you.”
Lucinda’s eyebrows knit together as she concentrated on pouring the tea. When the cup was full, she turned just as carefully to lower the teapot onto a small table in front of them. Despite her efforts, the teapot clattered loudly as the china made jarring contact with the silver tray, causing the poor girl to wince in embarrassment.
She seemed to have a difficult time controlling her movements. Lizzie was still trying to sort out whether this was her natural tendency or if she grew awkward only in the presence of guests. Perhaps it was her own presence that was making Lucinda so nervous. She was, after all, the sister-in-law of London’s most eligible bachelor. Perhaps Lucinda was desperate to make a good impression so Lizzie would give a good word to Geoffrey for her. It was not a scenario Lizzie cared to contemplate.
She did seem a good sort of person, however. Honest and kind, and reasonably well educated. She had even managed some interesting conversation when she was not fretting herself into knots about the tea service. Lizzie sympathized with her on that account; like Lucinda, Lizzie was not comfortable with the stiff formalities of society. Unfortunately, it was nothing she could confess to Lucinda to make her feel any better. They might both feel like outsiders, Lizzie thought, but for completely different reasons.
At Lizzie’s other elbow was Emily, Lucinda’s younger sister. Emily could not have been more than sixteen years old, yet her conversation was so centered on “marriage prospects” that she might as well have been out of the schoolroom and presented into society. Perhaps she already was. Lizzie had heard of girls whose parents allowed them to come out at such a young age.
Emily studied Lizzie with intense curiosity, as though she were some strange, otherworldly creature. It was a bit unnerving.
“Emily, where are your manners?” Lady Cardington said sharply. “I’m sure Mrs. Somerville does not appreciate being stared at so rudely.”
Emily gave Lizzie a smile that was intended to appear apologetic and said a bit too sweetly, “I beg your pardon, Mrs. Somerville.”
“That’s better,” her mother said, somewhat appeased.
“I should like to know all about Lord Somerville,” Emily went on cheerily, undeterred by her mother’s scolding. “Lucinda thinks it would be heavenly to have such a man in the family.” She gave a mischievous smile. “Perhaps heavenly is not the correct word, now that he no longer has a parish.” She giggled at her silly joke.
Emily’s frivolous words sent a chill down Lizzie’s spine. These ladies were discussing Lucinda’s marriage to Geoffrey as a foregone conclusion. But what were Geoffrey’s thoughts on the matter? She had no doubt that he would fulfill his familial duties and take a wife. But how soon would he do it? Was it really imminent, as Lady Cardington implied? Unlike these women, Lizzie was concerned for the man himself, that he might be genuinely happy—not merely providing a big society wedding for their entertainment.
Lizzie sipped her tea and sent another surreptitious glance toward the clock. Just a few minutes more and they could leave. She would be glad to get away and get back home. And tomorrow, she thought with a smile to herself as she watched these uselessly chattering women, she would be seeing Geoffrey again.
Chapter 16
The bright summer sun bathed London in a particularly fine light. Geoffrey was glad for the clear weather as he rode in his open carriage toward the Thornborough home. He would have preferred to walk, but he anticipated offering a ride to Ria today. It would be an agreeable way for her to become reacquainted with the city.
It was astounding, really, how continually she had been in his thoughts, although he had yet to completely comprehend her. He had been pleased at how easily they had reached a reconciliation, at her genuine desire that they should be friends. This was a good thing, surely. But she could irritate him, too. Her silly words yesterday after meeting that old man in Hyde Park were a case in point. In fact, Geoffrey was disappointed at the way she had handled the entire episode.
Then there was the moment in the carriage when she had fallen into his arms. He had no idea why his reaction had been so uncomfortably strong. Certainly he had held women before—dancing with them, escorting them. But never had it felt like that. It was perhaps one thing he would be safer not to dwell upon.
Today he was ready to ask her for details about Edward. Certain things she’d told him at their first meeting kept returning to him, and he wanted to know more. He wondered what the trajectory of Edward’s life might have been if it had not been cut short. Geoffrey hoped he could find some consolation in knowing his brother had been content with the life he had chosen. He hoped Ria could shed more light on this, and help him find peace.
As the carriage came to a stop, he found himself praying, Thank you Lord, for helping me to heal—and for helping Ria to heal, too. And as a quick addendum as he walked up the steps to the Thornborough home, he added, Lord, please help me understand her better. Help us know what we should do in the future.
The butler showed him up to the parlor. Ria stood by the window, the sunshine illuminating her face. Geoffrey paused, transfixed. A deep burgundy gown beautifully set off her features, and her hair was set in ringlets in the back that edged her graceful neck.
Only days before, he had viewed her as the cause of so much misery. Now he knew he could not allow it to overshadow all of his thoughts and actions. There was no changing the past; he and this woman must make the best of the present.
She walked over and clasped his hands warmly. “I’m so glad you could come.”
He was inordinately happy to find that neither Lady Thornborough nor James were present. “Are we all alone, then?” he asked.
“I’m afraid so. Grandmamma had another engagement this morning. She hopes you will forgive her absence.”
He nodded. “Of course.”
Ria looked uncertain about what to say next, and Geoffrey also felt suddenly tongue-tied. He sensed they were both growing embarrassed as the silence lengthened. Finally he said, “Would you like to take a drive? It is a fine day, and I brought an open carriage.”
Ria smiled, and Geoffrey was glad to see the tension subside from her manner. “That sounds marvelous.”
A few minutes later they stepped out of the town house. Geoffrey handed Ria up into the carriage and was relieved to find this task a shade less disconcerting than it had been yesterday. He hoped that, as he grew more familiar with Ria, he would not always find her nearness so diverting to all his senses. As soon as he sat down next to her, however, he realized he still had a long way to go.
“Where to, my lord?” the driver asked.
Geoffrey turned to Ria. “What would you like to see? Shall we go north to Regents Park, or down towards the river? Perhaps a visit to Saint Paul’s Cathedral?”
Her face lit up at the mention of Saint Paul’s, which was located in the original part of London still known as the City. “It would be lovely to see the City again.”
“Excellent.” To the driver he added, “Take us by way of Buckingham Palace,” and was gratified to see Ria’s look of delight.
The streets were filled, as always, with carriages, carts, and even livestock. There were a great many pedestrians, too, their ranks swelled by the visitors who had come for the Great Exhibition. Ria seemed to take it all in with fascination. “How busy London is,” she observed. “The noise and activity never stop.”
“It’s a far cry from a sheep farm, I’m sure,” Geoffrey said.
She nodded. “It is also, I think, very different from your quiet little parish in the country?”
How kind, he thought, that she should think of that. “Yes,” he agreed. “I wonder if I shall ever acclimatize to it.”
“I feel the same way,” she replied with a melancholy air.
They were alike in that respect, Geoffrey reflected. They were both facing extraordinary life changes. “A lot has changed since you were last in London, I expect.”
She gave a little laugh. “Yes, much has changed.” She cast him a teasingly critical look. “Have you perchance changed as well? I confess you are not at all like I had pictured you’d be.”
He should not have been surprised to hear this; after all, hadn’t he felt the same way about her? Even so, it gave him pause. “No doubt Edward’s descriptions did me no credit. What did he tell you about me, to give you such low expectations?”
“It’s not that Edward spoke ill of you,” she protested. “He just said that all three brothers were very different people. In his opinion, William was too bullheaded, Eddie himself was too easygoing, and you were too short on patience for either of them.”
“No doubt he was right,” Geoffrey said, shaking his head. “I only wish he might have confided in me before leaving England.”
“Perhaps he feared you would talk him out of it.”
“Undoubtedly. He knew I would vigorously remind him of his duties and urge him to do the right thing.”
“But would it have been right to stay in England? It would have meant seeing the woman he loved married to his brother. And she would have been forced into a loveless marriage.”
This seemed an odd way for her to phrase it. “Why do you speak of yourself in the third person?”
“I…” She faltered. “I—was merely attempting to lay the question out logically.”
Logic was not a word Geoffrey would once have used to describe either Ria or Edward, but he thought it better not to say this. There was a time, he thought, for discretion.
Their carriage was forced to a stop while a man drove several cattle across the road. Geoffrey tried to imagine Edward in such a role. It still seemed incredible to him. “Ria, you said Edward was one of Mr. McCrae’s most trusted hands. What were his duties exactly? Did he truly enjoy the work?”
It was like a dam had broken—in a good way. Ria began to speak freely of the life she and Edward had led in Australia. She was so animated as she spoke, and Geoffrey took pleasure in watching her as she described caring for the sheep, the intensive days of shearing in summer, and Edward’s vital role getting wool and supplies across the Blue Mountains. Edward’s excellent horsemanship, a hallmark of the Somerville family, had been his first greatest asset. His energy and leadership had been the second.
“I confess that you are giving me a picture of Edward I never had before,” Geoffrey told her.
“I’m not surprised. He never had the chance to prove himself in England. He was always just the second son—the ‘spare.’ In Australia it was like he became unbound.” She gave him a misty smile. “You would have been so proud.”
He took her hands, happy to hold them, happy to be able to share these moments with her. “I wish I might have known him then. Seen him…” He broke off. It was difficult to put in words his sense of loss, his regret that he had missed out on sharing what must have been his brother’s finest years.
Ria squeezed his hands gently. “He would have loved that, too,” she said.
“Were you happy there, too? Is that why you stayed so long after his death?”
She glanced away, looking at the passing buildings. “I believe I was content—so long as Edward was alive. We had some dear friends, too.” She paused to briefly touch a handkerchief to her eyes. “I did not want to leave Edward at first. Leave his grave, I mean. Even though he is dead, I felt like it would be abandoning him.”
“What made you change your mind?”
“I…” She looked at him apologetically. “I knew there was unfinished business here. I had to return.”
“Thank you for that,” Geoffrey said. “I know it cannot have been easy for you.”
“It was no easy thing to cross those mountains again, I can tell you,” she said with feeling. “To retrace the steps Edward had taken… There was a small group of us traveling together. Our guide knew where Edward had been attacked, but I specifically asked him not to point out that location to me.”
She dabbed again at her eyes, and Geoffrey felt it would be a shame to give in to sorrow now. “Let us not dwell on his death today,” he proposed. “Today, let’s rejoice in the life he lived.”
“Thank you,” she said. “That is a wise suggestion.”
There followed a moment of silence, however, when there seemed no good way to begin speaking of anything else.
Geoffrey saw that they were approaching Buckingham Palace. “I can see the royal standard,” he said, pointing to the ornate red, blue, and gold flag flying high atop the palace. “The Queen is in residence today.”
*
Lizzie marveled at how well Geoffrey received the things she told him about Edward. It was another important milestone, she thought, that she had been able to increase his appreciation for his brother. It was one way she was keeping her promise to Ria, and her heart was a little lighter because of it. “Thank you for bringing me out today,” she said.
“Thank you,” Geoffrey replied with a smile.
She loved his smile. It did not come as easily as Edward’s, but it was just as attractive. She wondered if Geoffrey was aware of the effect it could have on women. She suspected he did not. Lizzie turned her face toward the sun, basking in its warmth and in the satisfaction she’d already received from being with Geoffrey this morning.
They drove through Saint James’s Park and began to head east. This was her first real opportunity to see the city since her return. Her brief forays with James and Lady Thornborough had been limited to Hyde Park and a few fashionable homes in Mayfair and Belgravia. What a treat it was, too, to see it all from the comfort of a carriage. In the past when she’d lived in London, she usually traveled on foot, and had rarely come this far west.
The traffic grew denser as they approached the heart of the city. The famous dome of Saint Paul’s Cathedral had been visible from a great way off. As they drew near to the cathedral, Lizzie saw many people milling about, admiring the two rows of double pillars and the two tall towers that framed the front of the edifice. She had fond memories of this place. In some ways, it was like seeing an old friend.
“Would you like to go in?” Geoffrey inquired.
She readily agreed.
The interior of Saint Paul’s was refreshingly airy and cool after the heat of the summer day. There were plenty of people inside, but they quickly dispersed among the smaller chapels and alcoves of the enormous cathedral. As she and Geoffrey walked slowly down the long nave, Lizzie enjoyed the hushed calm that pervaded the place—so quiet after the noisy confusion of the streets outside.
When they reached the center, they paused to look up at the inside of the giant dome. Lizzie saw at least a dozen people looking down at her. These were the intrepid visitors who had climbed the many stairs leading up to the whispering gallery, an area ringing the base of the dome. Lizzie turned t
o Geoffrey. “Can we go up?” she asked eagerly.
“Are you sure you want to do that?” he replied with surprise. “I believe there are over two hundred steps.”
“It’s two hundred and fifty-seven, to be precise,” said a man who happened to be walking by them at that moment. “The missus and I just came down.” He indicated the lady he was escorting. Both were well into middle age, and they were looking a little red-faced, as though from heavy exertion. Lizzie instantly recognized the man’s American accent. “It’s quite a hike, I can tell you,” the man declared. “I was so tuckered when I got to the top, I thought I’d peg out. But the view is bully.” Lizzie tried to suppress a smile at the look on Geoffrey’s face. Was he more surprised at the man’s colloquialisms, or at being thus addressed without an introduction?
She soon had her answer. After they had parted from the couple and found the entrance to the gallery steps, Geoffrey asked Lizzie with amusement, “Do you have any idea what that gentleman said?”
“Oh, yes,” Lizzie replied. “I had occasion to meet some Americans in Sydney. Their expressions can be quite colorful.” She translated for him as they proceeded up the steep and narrow staircase. They paused on a small landing halfway up. It was warmer up here, and Lizzie was still adjusting to the extra layers of clothing she was now required to wear. Dressing in Australia had been much simpler. She leaned on Geoffrey’s arm as they took a moment to catch their breaths, and she was happy to see that he seemed to take as much pleasure in this as she did. Thus fortified, they took the last flight of steps and at last exited through a door onto the whispering gallery.
Lizzie went straight to the iron balustrade and surveyed the immense nave far below. She had been up here once before as a child. She and Tom had enjoyed testing the peculiar characteristic for which the gallery got its name. Tom had circled the walkway to the other side, and the two had been able to talk to one another in a normal voice despite the great distance separating them. “Have you been here before?” she asked Geoffrey as he joined her at the railing.
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