“I know, Mama, but there is nothing to be done about it, and Uncle Tom has been kindness itself to us.”
“Of course, of course, and I hope I am not ungrateful, dear one. Never that! But I may be grateful and yet still miss my old life, may I not?”
Uncle Tom had been called away to attend to a patient, so only the three ladies sat in the parlour to receive Mr Huntly. Aunt Hester was excited, her eyes bright with speculation. She had a fertile imagination, and so it needed only a male caller for her to be planning the wedding clothes. Annie’s mother was, as always, outwardly serene, yet there was a certain flush on her cheeks all the same.
Annie herself was not sure what she felt. Excitement? Perhaps. Hope, certainly. To be married, and have a home and a family of her own! It was of all things the most desirable to her, and yet here she was, at the advanced age of six and twenty, still a spinster. So if Mr Huntly had matrimony in mind and could afford a wife, she would not rebuff him. Yet she dared not allow herself to consider it possible. He was an old acquaintance who was paying a courtesy call while in the town. Yes, that was all it was.
Betty showed him in, her eyes wide. “Mr Huntly, madam.”
He was just as Annie recalled, although the skeletal frame of youth had filled out a little. He was still nondescript in appearance, but he was clothed rather better than she remembered, with well-fitted coat and breeches, polished top boots and a carefully arranged neckcloth. It would be too much to say that he was fashionable, but he certainly looked the gentleman.
They all rose, and Annie’s mother stepped forward to greet him. “Mr Huntly, how kind of you to call on us. It is always pleasant to meet again with old friends.”
“Mrs Dresden,” he murmured, bowing, but even as he rose, his eyes strayed towards Annie.
“We have so much to talk about, but before you tell us all that you have been doing, my sister-in-law would be gratified to make your acquaintance. Hester, Mr Huntly visited us many times when my poor husband was still with us. Mr Huntly, my sister-in-law, Mrs Perkins. And… you will remember my daughter, Annie.”
“Mrs Perkins.” He bowed to her, then his eyes turned again to Annie. “I remember Miss Dresden perfectly.” Another bow.
Annie curtsied composedly, but her heart was racing. His eyes! There was an intensity in them that could not be mistaken. This was not the courteous call of an old acquaintance passing through the town. He was here for her!
Her mother waved Mr Huntly to a chair and they all sat.
“Are you in Guildford for long, Mr Huntly?” was her mother’s first question.
“I cannot say,” he said. “That will depend on how long it takes for my business to be concluded.”
“You are here on business, then?”
“Personal business, Mrs Dresden. Personal business.” His eyes were on Annie as he spoke, so that she almost blushed. He was so direct! Impossible to misunderstand him. Before anyone could enquire further, he said quickly, “I was so very sorry to hear of the death of Mr Dresden, and the event was most unexpected, as I understand. Such a fine preacher. I always enjoyed his sermons enormously.” He shifted on his chair a little, so that he was facing more towards Annie. “Miss Dresden, do you still attend your father’s former church?”
“Occasionally, sir, but we are closer to St Mary’s, and… it is distressing to Mama to—”
“Of course,” he said quickly. “Naturally it must evoke memories of happier times.”
Annie could see her mother drooping at this turn in the conversation, so she made a rapid change of subject. “You are not any longer living at Grantham, I understand, sir?”
“I am not. I have had… a change of circumstance. You will remember me speaking of my older brother, perhaps, Miss Dresden? The one who inherited my father’s estate in Wiltshire?”
“I remember.”
“He met a tragic demise earlier this year, and therefore I have assumed the responsibility for the management of the estate.”
“That is sad news indeed,” Annie said. “You have my condolences, sir. Was his illness of long duration?”
His lips quirked in a half-smile. “He was not ill. Herbert was aboard a ship from Ireland when it foundered off the coast of Cornwall. He was drowned.”
“Not the Minerva?” Annie said, sitting a little more upright. “The same on which the poor Duke of Falconbury lost his life?”
He shook his head a little, albeit with a rueful smile. “I should have realised you would have heard of it. Everyone has heard of the drowning of the poor Duke of Falconbury. Well, Miss Dresden, my poor brother was also on board and also lost his life, which was just as precious to him as the young duke’s was to him, but naturally no newspaper filled its pages with the death of Mr Herbert Huntly. That is the way of the world, that a duke is of more interest than a mere gentleman, and a great deal more than an able seaman. We all have our place in the world, do we not?”
His words were commonplace, but the look in his eyes told a different story.
Her mother said calmly, “The loss of your brother is a great tragedy, Mr Huntly, and the management of his estates must be irksome for you. Are you now settled permanently in Wiltshire, or shall you hope to return to Grantham one day?”
“My home is now at Willow Place,” he said. “My brother had no son and so the estate fell to me. I had no wish for it and it was a wrench to leave my work, for I flatter myself I was beginning to make a name for myself as an attorney, but I daresay I shall grow accustomed, in time, to living as a gentleman. I have a few adjustments still to make to my style of living, but once that is accomplished, I daresay I shall be as contented as any man can be.”
Once more his eyes fell on Annie, and he smiled at her with a warmth that made her blush and drop her eyes. Well! He could not have spoken plainer if he had dropped on one knee and offered for her on the spot.
Aunt Hester was naturally agog to know of his intention in calling, so she tiptoed around the subject by asking courteously if Mr Huntly had any other brothers, or any sisters.
“None now living, to my sorrow. I am the last of my father’s children.”
“And are you married, Mr Huntly?” Aunt Hester said.
His voice was heavy with meaning as he replied. “Not yet, Mrs Perkins. Not yet.”
Annie’s eyes were lowered, so she could not see whether he looked in her direction, but it scarcely mattered. She understood him perfectly.
The tea and some hastily procured cakes were set out, everyone ate and drank, the conversation reverted to indifferent topics and after precisely half an hour, Mr Huntly rose, asked if he might call again the next day and went away.
There was no time to discuss the matter. Aunt Hester was wanted in the kitchen and Annie had her bottles to finish counting. She changed out of the blue muslin gown, and went dutifully down to the cellar again to complete her task. Then there was an errand for her uncle, and then dinner, with the children’s noisy presence. Only after that could the ladies settle to the agreeable task of discussing Mr Huntly, his person and manners and intentions. Annie said nothing, but when the two older ladies settled it between them that a summer wedding was very probable, she could not disagree.
Annie’s uncle had gone out to a patient, but when he returned, the supper tray had been brought in, and his end-of-the-day claret had been poured, he said, “Well, Annie, so you have an admirer, it seems. What do you think of him, this Huntly fellow?”
“He is a pleasant sort of man, Uncle. Very well-spoken.”
“True enough. He asked me very politely if he might call upon you and your mother. I trust I did right in telling him to come back in an hour?”
“Perfectly right, Mr Perkins,” his wife said. “Annie had time to put on one of her good dresses. She looked very well, I thought.”
“Annie always looks well,” he said. Turning to Annie’s mother, he said, “What say you, Mary? Will he come up to scratch, do you think?”
“What a vulgar expression, To
m! But it did seem… one would not wish to raise expectations too soon, but he did seem to speak in a most particular way.”
“And to come all this way solely on Annie’s account suggests the strongest attachment,” Aunt Hester said.
“Do we know that?” Uncle Tom said. “That he has come here solely on Annie’s account?”
“He said he was here on personal business,” his wife said triumphantly. “And then he looked directly at Annie. What could be clearer?”
“Hmm.” Her uncle looked at Annie thoughtfully. “He wished to pay his addresses to you once before, I believe, Annie, but your father sent him away. Were you… disappointed about that?”
“Oh no, Uncle. Papa knew best, and Mr Huntly had no great income then. It would have had to be a very long engagement.”
“We don’t know what his income is now, come to that. You send him to me if he starts talking about marriage, and I’ll have it out of him. No point tying yourself to a man with the appearance of a gentleman unless he has the means to keep you respectably. I know a man in Salisbury who might tell us something about the family. I’ll write first thing. But don’t you go rushing into anything, missy.”
“No, Uncle.”
As she went to bed that night, Aunt Hester whispered, “Oh, Annie! Just think, you’ll soon be married.”
“I know,” she said, smiling.
She was still smiling as she climbed into bed and blew out the candle, for the glow inside her would not be extinguished. She would be married! What more could any woman want?
END OF SAMPLE CHAPTER of The Apothecary
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