by Rebecca King
“You were chatting to Trenton Calderhill,” her aunt declared in a conversational tone.
Ursula jumped and wondered if her aunt had just read her mind.
“Estimable chap, Trenton is. He comes from a wonderful family too. You can’t do better than him.”
“He is engaged. You said so yourself.” She willed her aunt to deny it but sighed when Adelaide nodded with a thoughtful expression on her face. “I doubt they are from someone like Trenton,” Ursula protested again, wondering why Adelaide wasn’t convinced.
“I am sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to over-set you,” Adelaide soothed when she saw her niece’s alarm. “You have an admirer, that’s all. Given that you were chatting with Trenton last night, I just assumed they might be from him.”
“It’s impossible,” Ursula snapped. “Trenton has lived in the same village as me for a long time and has barely given me a second look. Why, I could be nothing more than one of the sheep in the fields for all the interest he has shown me over the years. He is now engaged so is less likely than ever to send me something like this. No, these cannot be from him, so please don’t go starting any rumours with your friends. It isn’t fair to embarrass the man.”
She pushed away from the table but paused long enough to throw her aunt an apologetic look. “I am sure that there has just been a misunderstanding, that’s all. I don’t know anyone in London, so can’t have any admirers.”
“Well, somebody has sought to send flowers. Discount no one, Ursula, that’s all I am saying.”
They both paused at the sound of the front door bell and, moments later, watched Isaac enter with another arrangement.
“Good Lord, he is determined, isn’t he?” Adelaide murmured.
“Thank you, Isaac.” Ursula watched the butler disappear before she turned to her aunt. She then opened the second envelope and read the note: May we meet again soon.
She stared at the card in her hand. Now that she came to think about it, Adelaide had a point. Trenton had known her since childhood. If anyone was acquainted with her enough to send her flowers after such a short meeting, it would be him. She had been rather abrupt with him last night. Maybe it was a welcome gift or an acknowledgement of their acquaintance now they were away from the prying eyes of the villagers back in Yorkshire. She smiled at that thought and clutched both cards to her chest.
To her delight, the flowers kept arriving throughout the morning. By late morning several arrangements had arrived in all sizes, colours and varieties, until her bedroom was awash with fragrant blooms.
“You know, my dear, you must send Trenton a note to thank him for them,” Adelaide said her as she watched Isaac slide the latest arrangement onto the table at Ursula’s elbow.
“But I don’t know for definite that they are from him,” she protested, unsure how one went about thanking someone for sending half a field of flowers. A quick note seemed quiet impersonal given the frivolous gesture.
“What do the cards say again?”
“Well; apart from the first two, the second praises me on my beauty and in particular my wonderful eyes. He has sent me a third card assuring me that I have captured his heart. On the fourth card he tells me that we are to meet again soon. The fifth and sixth cards declare that I am but a beautiful flower that has sweetened his life. Both the seventh and eighth cards assure me that our future together is definite. The ninth and tenth compare me to the seasons; spring for freshness and summer for blossoming splendour.”
By the time she finished reeling off the cards, Adelaide was giggling like a young girl. “Oh dear. They are a little over the top, aren’t they?”
Although Ursula adored flowers, and was delighted to have received so many of them, the idea that someone liked her enough to send her so many, was a little disturbing. While the delight was very real, as the morning had approached the afternoon, and the arrangements had continued to arrive with the cards, it had become apparent that the sender was not Trenton Calderhill. Such flowery prose didn’t seem fitting for someone like Trenton. He seemed to be more blunt and direct in his manner.
That left her with one worrying problem. Who could her secret admirer be? The more she looked at the script, the more she became convinced the gushing praise had been written by a female hand. But how could they be? Why would a woman want to send her flowers? It was too ridiculous to contemplate.
No, they had to be from a man. She just didn’t know who that man was yet and had no idea how to go about finding out right now, but she would. Somehow.
“I don’t know what to do about them,” Ursula confided.
“Well, given he hasn’t sent you his name yet, the only thing you can do is wait for him to appear. He has gone to considerable expense so will want to ensure that you know who he is. Sit back and wait, my dear. Your mysterious admirer will appear. You’ll see,” Adelaide assured her.
Ursula looked up in time to watch her aunt tap the side of her nose and nodded while she considered that. She wasn’t sure what she would say to Trenton if it turned out to be him, or anyone else for that matter. She had never been the object of anyone’s attention before. The last thing she wanted to do was encourage anyone’s affections, but neither did she want to blank somebody who had been so generous.
“Don’t worry about it now. Wait to see who has sent them first,” she muttered to herself.
“What was that, dear?” Adelaide called from the hallway.
“Nothing,” Ursula replied as she moved to join her.
“Ready?”
Ursula nodded and followed her aunt outside. After the morning she had just had she was looking forward to being able to savour the air. Although she hated London with its cloying smog, constant noise, and crowded streets, she adored Hyde Park, and relished her late morning stroll with her aunt.
Once on the pavement, they turned toward the park at the end of the road. Ursula saw the endless line of carriages crossing the end of the road and sighed in dismay. It was a familiar sight to her now, but no less daunting now than it had been on the first day she had experienced walking amongst the melee. As they approached, she made a conscious effort to straighten her spine and glide like Adelaide instructed her to and willed the next few minutes to be over as quickly as possible.
“The chaos has already begun,” she mused with a wry smile.
“Oh, shush now. You know this is the best way to make the acquaintance of people I don’t wish to take tea with,” Adelaide chided her. “Just enjoy yourself and leave everything to me.”
Ursula sighed. She had little choice because that is all she seemed to have done since her arrival in London several weeks ago. At the time, she had considered visiting her aunt as an answer to her problems. In reality, little in her life had changed. At Adelaide’s house she had even less freedom in London’s strict society than she did at home. At least in Yorkshire she could step outside and walk for miles without having to remember to keep her back and shoulders straight, nod to people she knew, and smile serenely at all times. It was hard work trying to remember all of the rules and regulations. She was glad to leave everything to her aunt, if only so she could observe those around her to make sure she didn’t put a foot out of place.
Unfortunately, after several days of the same routine, it was all getting a rather tedious. Even taking some fresh air had turned out to be a chore. She wasn’t sure how Adelaide coped with it.
“I suspect that your admirer will make his presence felt before we reach home today,” Adelaide mused with a sly smile.
It troubled Ursula more than she cared to admit to realise that she was scouring the area for Trenton. Determined to forget about him once and for all, she turned her attention the flora and fauna of the park instead. That did take her mind off him for a while, but only for a short while because her thoughts turned toward the flowers. Immediately that set her to wonder if Trenton had sent her the numerous bouquets of posies now sitting in her bedroom. She tried to decide what she would say to whoever told her that
he had sent them. Should she thank him for them and move on? Was there something else she should say that wouldn’t encourage any future generous displays of interest?
“Oh, there is Agatha. I must speak with her,” Adelaide cried, as she nodded toward a rather matronly lady who stopped her carriage to chat.
While the ladies exchanged small talk, Ursula was temporarily free to turn her attention back to the park. Just on the other side of the iron railings, the vast lawns accommodated nannies pushing grand carriages while young children laughed and played nearby. Gentleman escorted ladies who glided regally around the pathways that wound through the autumnal splendour of their surroundings. It was by far the most wondrous place in all of London, and seemed a world away from the carriage filled streets and crowded pavements she was in the middle of.
She glanced at her aunt and wished she could go for a brisker walk along the Ladies’ Mile. Adelaide always refused to walk all that way because she said there was nothing along the Mile worth experiencing except trees, but Ursula refused to give up her dreams.
One day, she promised herself. One day, I will walk that mile.
“There is nobody to talk to,” Adelaide declared with a huff when her friend’s carriage pulled away and the street was temporarily empty of acquaintances she wanted to converse with.
“Me?” Ursula quipped.
“Nonsense child, I talk to you all the time.”
Ursula sighed. She suspected she knew the answer already but felt driven to ask anyway. “Shall we walk the Ladies’ Mile today?” She mentally crossed her fingers and waited.
“Oh no, not the Mile,” Adelaide gasped. “I can talk to you whenever I want to. I need not walk a mile to do it. I know people do, but it is far more interesting to walk amongst the crowded pavements here and speak to people in the carriages. No, we shall endeavour to take our usual stroll so we can avoid the chosen few, and then we shall take tea at home in front of the fire as usual. Ah, there is Lady Andover,” Adelaide declared as though Ursula cared. “I do so need to speak with her about her forthcoming ball next Friday.”
Hopes dashed, Ursula groaned at the prospect of having to attend yet another ball. She had been in London a few weeks now and her head was already whirling from the endless rounds of engagements that filled the diary to almost bursting. She had to wonder how at one and eighty, Adelaide kept up with it all.
Sensing Ursula’s disquiet, Adelaide threw her a rueful look. “I must speak to Lady Andover, then we can go for a walk in the park if you would like, dear?” Adelaide suggested.
She knew that Ursula was impatient to get moving, but felt driven to ensure that her niece fulfilled her father’s wish and socialised whenever possible. Taking a stroll was more than enough to ease her into the constant round of social engagements without making her feel trapped, threatened, or ill-at ease. Adelaide studied the area and smiled as she thought of the flowers that had arrived that morning. So far, everything was going more than well; they were going splendidly in fact. If everything went according to plan, Jeremiah would have his wish, and Ursula would be wed before she turned five and twenty. Whether she would return to Yorkshire though had yet to be seen. If her husband turned out to be from London, Jeremiah’s wish could quite literally backfire on him. However, that was another problem for another day.
“Oh, Good Lord,” she murmured when her attention was captured by a rather ebullient lady who was charging toward them with all the enthusiasm of an excited cocker spaniel.
“Hello there, Adelaide. How are you today?” the woman gushed before either Ursula or Adelaide could move to avoid her. She rudely shouldered her way between Ursula and her aunt, and fell into step beside Adelaide as though she had every right to do so. “I was hoping to meet with you.”
“Oh?” Adelaide’s face remained a façade of politeness but her tone was less than inviting. The coolness of her response would have warned anyone familiar with social strictures not to be so forthright in their manner. Unfortunately, Eunice Sinnerton didn’t have the wisdom to heed the warning, and continued in her overly familiar way that made even Ursula cringe.
“I was so sorry to have missed you at the recital yesterday. It was such a wonderful evening, do you not think? I assured Mildred that her skills are second to none. I told her that I should be obliged if she would grace my music room at the first available opportunity.” She smiled as though she had achieved a major coup. “I shall endeavour to ensure you receive an invitation.”
“My diary is quite full for the foreseeable future, thank you,” Adelaide replied with a sniff.
“Nonsense, I shall not take no for an answer. I am sure you can find room for a recital in your busy schedule,” Eunice persisted. “You too, Miss Proctor. I am sure you would delight in an evening of refinement.”
Ursula gasped and felt Adelaide jerk at the slight. The shocked look on her face would have warned even the most stalwart matriarch within the ton that their words were offensive, but Eunice still appeared oblivious. She had turned her attention to two people sauntering behind them, and yanked the young man around until he was blocking Adelaide’s path.
“I don’t believe you have met my son, Alfred,” Eunice declared proudly. Her smile suddenly vanished, and she nodded curtly to the young woman still behind Ursula. “That’s Hyacinth. She is a product of my husband’s first marriage, but we do what we can. Don’t mind her.”
Ursula gasped in horror and looked at Hyacinth in dismay.
“Come along, Ursula,” Adelaide declared with a curt nod at Eunice.
Ursula nodded politely to Hyacinth, and couldn’t help but feel sorry for her being related to such an awful woman as Eunice Sinnerton. Thankfully she was spared having to reply by Adelaide, who tugged on her arm and drew her away from the group, ignoring the fact that Mrs Sinnerton was still detailing Alfred’s many attributes.
Ursula fervently hoped Mrs Sinnerton would take the hint and pester somebody else. Unfortunately, she didn’t. She followed them, and continued to regale them with effusive comments about her wonderful son while completely ignoring Hyacinth.
“Alfred had something to say, didn’t you Alfred?” Eunice suddenly declared loudly, pushing her son around until he was blocking Ursula’s path, forcing her to stop.
“What? Oh, yes,” Alfred stammered, looking somewhat confused for a moment.
“Yes?” Ursula asked in her most unwelcoming manner.
“I-I take it you are enjoying London, Miss Proctor?” he stuttered awkwardly.
Ursula saw nervousness in the smaller man’s eyes and immediately felt sorry for him. He shouldn’t have approached her without a formal introduction, but she couldn’t bring herself to slight him. Although he tried to hide it, she knew that he would prefer to be anywhere else. Given his mother’s rather uncouth behaviour, she could understand why. She gave him a sympathetic smile but, to her consternation it seemed to make him even more uncomfortable.
“Very much so, thank you,” she replied coolly. She realised then that his mother had not given him a title. She looked at Mrs Sinnerton, and sighed with dismay at the proud smile on the woman’s avaricious face.
“Are you going to the Browning’s dinner tomorrow night?” Alfred asked suddenly.
“Yes, I believe we have accepted the invitation.” Ursula looked at her aunt who nodded once. The last thing either of them wanted to do was give Eunice any information but they couldn’t lie to her either.
“Well, I hope we can further our acquaintance then.” He bowed and, out of nowhere, suddenly seemed to get some gumption. With a dismissive glance at his mother, he stood upright, straightened his thin shoulders and looked at Ursula almost challengingly. “Do you like the outdoors, Miss Proctor?”
She stared at him blankly for a moment. “Pardon?”
“I see you taking a morning stroll practically every day. Do you prefer the outdoors? I have reason to understand you hail from Yorkshire. You must yearn for the peace and quiet of rural life. You should take a
walk in the park. The flowers are wonderful there at this time of year.”
Before Ursula could reply, Eunice stepped forward.
“That’s right,” she gushed as she elbowed her way between Ursula and Alfred. “You are neighbours with Lord Blomsbury, are you not?”
“That’s correct,” Ursula replied warily.
“So you must know their eldest son, Lord, oh, what’s his name now?” she frowned at the floor thoughtfully, clearly waiting for someone to enlighten her.
Ursula and Adelaide were spared having to respond by the arrival of another gentleman, who approached the group with an air of supreme arrogance. Ursula frowned when Alfred’s words registered on her but, before she could ask him if he had sent the posies, Adelaide urged her to start walking.
“We must keep walking,” Adelaide muttered, aware that one was required to walk while one talked.
It was the height of bad manners to stand and converse on the pavement. Unsurprisingly though, Eunice Sinnerton appeared completely oblivious to the dark looks of disapproval they were drawing from several, quiet influential people who passed in their carriages.
Glad to do just that, Ursula linked arms with her aunt again, completely ignoring the new arrival.
“Oh, Adelaide!” Mrs Sinnerton called when the stranger blocked her from following.
“Well, really,” Adelaide muttered, and nodded toward the rather dour matrons who frowned upon Eunice’s uncouth behaviour as they rumbled past. “Must that woman be so familiar, and so loud?”
“How long have you known her?” Ursula whispered.
“Exactly?” Adelaide lifted her brows and looked at her niece. “Since the recital yesterday.”
Ursula stared at her aunt in disbelief.
“I don’t believe I have had the pleasure of making your acquaintance,” a smooth voice suddenly rumbled in Ursula’s ear.
“Oh, I say, Adelaide?” Eunice called as she forged a path through the crowd and came hurrying after them.