The Hathersedge train was delayed, and the longer that Adeline sat in the ladies’ waiting room, the stronger she felt the pull of the city.
It wouldn’t be such a difficult task to call on a friend or six while she was in the city. Her parents were expecting her, but it was doubtful that they would actually miss her, given how disinterested they both were in her life.
Crumpling her ticket in her hand, Adeline rose from her seat and stalked out of the station with her carpetbag. She headed for the tube station and traveled straight to Knightsbridge on the underground railway. The London Underground always made her feel better about things. It was an amazing triumph of man over nature, and had made the city a lot faster to traverse, with no adverse weather, or unpleasantness of circumstance; the futuristic cylindrical trains were the epitome of civilized travel. She particularly enjoyed staring out of the window, spotting all the alcoves and passageways that would occasionally branch away from the one she was in, as the electric train whisked her from King’s Cross to Knightsbridge.
Adeline alighted in Knightsbridge and went to call on a friend who lived there. The girl’s maid answered the door.
“Is Lydia Wednesbury at home to a visitor?” Adeline asked.
“One moment, madam.” The maid disappeared, and returned quickly with Lydia in tow.
“Adeline, old girl! I was just wondering about dining out! I thought you were away in Edinburgh for the foreseeable?”
“Just got back this hour.”
“Oh, jolly good. I hear Scotland is simply dreadful at the best of times. There is nothing of interest north of the border.”
Adeline thought there was rather a lot of interest above the border, but she nodded sympathetically anyway.
“Did you hear about old Bobbie?”
“I did! Fancy her finding treasure in Egypt like that,” Adeline said, trying to be cheerful.
“Can you imagine how miserable the desert is though? No, give me Europe, or London, or nothing at all! There’s an idea! Why don’t we tootle off to Monte Carlo for a few days?”
Usually, Adeline would have been the first to volunteer for an impromptu trip to France. Today, for some reason, the prospect didn’t sound especially interesting.
“I think I’d rather stay in the city. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that.”
“Come, you must try this new restaurant that’s opened on Hyde Park Corner. The chef is Czechoslovakian; can you imagine? One of those new European countries that were invented after the war. They’re not exactly known for their haute cuisine in whatever gloomy burgh he’s from, but he trained in Paris and the fare is rather decent.”
Adeline nodded. They went out to dinner and she let Lydia do most of the talking.
Dinner was probably delicious, although Adeline didn’t taste a single mouthful as it went down. Afterwards, she went to a nice hotel and checked in for the night. It was strange to do everything on her own.
She locked the door to her room, then went to the smallest room and ran a bath using the complementary scented salts. After she undressed, she got into the warm water and sat in it for over an hour, thinking about how she’d managed to ruin everything so comprehensively.
That morning, she had awoken and gone about her daily business with no idea how the rest of the day might decide to unfold. Marrying Edward had been so far from her thoughts that she hadn’t contemplated the possibility that he might do it. She wondered why it hadn’t occurred to her, and realized it came down to one thing that she knew to be true: nobody would ever really want to marry her unless she changed. And she didn’t want to change into one of those women who arranged flowers and didn’t do much else.
When she thought about it, she knew that was why she had behaved the way she had today. Feeling dejected, she wondered if it were possible for anybody to foul things up more than she had done. But what course of action was there? What could she possibly do to show Edward that she could be better? Turning up in Edinburgh and making a grand gesture was only going to make it more abundantly clear that she was impulsive and reckless. Anyway, those sorts of things were not going to sway his resolve, which was made out of the hardest cast iron. No, the only thing for it was to return to Hathersedge and aim to be a better person.
She unplugged the bath and watched the water swirl down the plughole, then reluctantly went to dry herself off before she lay down on the bed and slept for twelve hours straight. Her parents probably wouldn’t comment on her extended absence. They never did.
Chapter Eight
It was six weeks later, and Edward was sitting in his drawing room staring at the morning’s post. Usually, he was very decisive, and an invitation to a society ball, under normal circumstances, would have been just the thing to cheer him up.
Since the rummy business with Adeline, however, he had avoided society more than ever. He wasn’t sure which prospect was worse; meeting her, and having to make small talk as though she were anyone else in the room, or meeting some new girl who might glue herself to him for the evening.
He had intercepted the letter to Adeline’s father before it left Moray Place, and so, aside from his servants, only Adeline knew how close Edward had come to proposing to her.
It was very unfortunate that things had gone wrong with her, but Edward was trying hard not to dwell on it all. The girl would probably have moved on weeks ago, and he had no desire to become one of those Byronesque men who drifted through life writing poetry about girls who had jilted them. He was a Wolstanton, and therefore made of sterner stuff. Besides, he had never excelled at poetry in English composition at school, although he appreciated the efforts of those blessed with more talent than he had.
The invitation before him was to the Duke and Duchess Shawham’s house, in the Brecon Beacons, which was about as far west as one could go from Hathersedge without going near the sea. As far as he understood, the duchess was now attempting to marry her daughters to good prospects. He didn’t have any interest in a match with one of the girls, but two days of fine dining and the company of others was a welcome idea. The whole world seemed empty of substance since he sent Adeline away, and all other women paled in comparison to her.
He got out his writing paper and began writing a cordial R.S.V.P. to the duchess. When his eyes glanced over the invitation once more, he faltered as he wondered if Adeline was well. There were so many things he’d left unsaid, and it was still difficult to think about her.
Over the weeks since he sent her away, he had avoided the urge to write to her confessing his undying affection and commitment to her happiness, because last time he’d put his heart on the line, she had rebuked him so viciously that she’d proved she would rather put her life in danger than marry him. That wasn’t the sort of relationship Edward wanted with any girl, let alone one he loved as much as Adeline. When she had told him her reasoning for taking the boat out, he had seen no recourse but to physically remove her to somewhere where he would not have that effect on her.
Once he had finished the letter, he folded it into an envelope and charged the housemaid with posting it back to Brecon House.
“Guy, a trip to Savile Row is in order. I am in need of a new suit for a ball.”
“Very good, sir. Would you like me to telephone Henry Poole with your measurements?”
“No, I wish to see the cloth myself. Book two train tickets, one each for you and me, and we shall room at the Cranchester. The usual suite. Find me an opera to watch while we’re there.” Edward’s spirits lifted slightly at the idea of being in the city.
“When shall we depart, sir?”
“Tomorrow a.m.…”
* * *
Adeline was looking forward to the ball at Brecon House. She knew her family had only been invited to make up numbers, but an escape from Hathersedge for a few days was sorely needed; she was even considering Lydia Wednesbury’s offer to abscond to Monte Carlo.
For the past few weeks, Adeline had gone shooting, riding, and had helped her m
other organize a charity fundraiser for orphans, and now she faced the future with horror. Lonely, empty days stretched out before her and she wished someone had warned her about the dangers of burning bridges. She knew that she absolutely did not deserve to be happy, and truth be told that was probably why she’d messed things up, but that didn’t stop her from wanting the future she had sabotaged.
If only Edward and she could both put aside their need to win for long enough, they might be rather good together, she thought wryly. She was entirely responsible for their separation. With that realization, she widened her eyes in surprise. Perhaps Edward’s lessons had taken effect, after all. She felt responsible for her own behavior, and, furthermore, she regretted it.
If only there was a way for him to understand that she was trying very hard to be a better person. But waving it in his face, either with a letter, a telephone call, or a personal visit to his home, would only prove the opposite, so she resisted the urge. It was difficult, because apart from Max, Edward was the only person she’d ever really had a meaningful conversation with, and now she was back to exchanging meaningless platitudes with girlfriends, her parents, and the servants.
In the last six weeks, Adeline’s parents had introduced her to no fewer than five eligible young men. All of them were landed, titled and financially well-endowed, but she had met them with frosty humor and eventually, even the most persistent little woodlouse ended up going home with no prize.
Her mother was particularly keen to see her settled. She constantly voiced her perplexity with Adeline’s refusal to take a man. Adeline didn’t have the words to explain what had happened between her and Edward, given that in reality, precisely nothing had happened. Neither of them had openly declared their love for the other, he had never really proposed to her, and they hadn’t given in completely to their baser instincts. The fact still remained that, after Edward, everyone else looked dull and boring by comparison.
“Your new dress has arrived, lady.” Pearl, the maid, placed a large package on the bed and unwrapped it for Adeline’s inspection.
It was beautiful; floor-length ethereal cornflower blue muslin with a low waistline, as was the current fashion, and a scooped neck. There were little silver diamantes sewn into the hem and the neck, and the overall effect was divine.
“Would you like me to help you try it on?” Pearl asked.
Adeline nodded, and let the maid figure out how the dress was to be worn. They stared at her reflection in the mirror.
“You look the bee’s knees, milady,” Pearl remarked.
Adeline just stared. Her hair was growing out a little, now, and reached the edge of her jawline. She added a sparkling necklace of blue topaz, and a headpiece made of lace and pearl. With blue satin slippers, she thought the overall effect was rather elegant, without being the least bit stuffy.
“All right, I’ve seen my fill. Take it off, put all these things together with the dress, I’ll take the lot to Wales.”
With everything organized, Adeline and her family departed for Brecon House.
Chapter Nine
Brecon House was one of the ones with the long, sweeping driveway, the sort that curved regularly to ensure that as much of the front garden was shown off as was humanly possible. Adeline hated long meandering driveways; they meant further to run when she wanted to get away from the walls that frequently closed in around her. She always entered into these social engagements with the full intent of remaining for the duration, but occasionally the most sickly social sloths would attach themselves to her, or the older generation would start making much of the fact that she wasn’t married yet, and after sufficient time in the pressure cooker, she had been known to make a break for freedom every now and then.
“Planning an exit strategy already?” Arthur asked.
“And you’re not?” Adeline retorted more sharply than she meant. Arthur glared at her but said nothing more, and she knew the remark had hit home. They were adults now, but there was something about being stuck with one another on a long journey that reduced them to the old game of one-upmanship. All things being fair, this would have been Max and Archie battling it out, while Arthur and Adeline watched in disdain and occasionally contributed a remark about how tiresome the bickering was.
The car arrived at the front door, and the driver rang the bell. Presently, the elderly butler appeared and guided Arthur, Adeline, and their parents to their guestrooms. She went to get refreshed and ready for dinner. Perhaps she could get to Sunday without running for the hills.
She looked longingly at the front door as they were chivvied upstairs. If Edward were here, he would say something encouraging. But she was alone, and would probably always be alone now. She didn’t think she would ever be able to open her heart to someone again.
* * *
Edward’s train had been delayed, but a driver and car was waiting for him at Brecon station. Guy moved the luggage and they hurried to the house. The butler showed them straight upstairs and Guy helped Edward get ready for dinner.
He descended the wide sweeping staircase and made his way to the drawing room, where the other guests were gathering for pre-dinner drinks. He paused for a moment when he saw Adeline. He hadn’t expected her to be here. She was a vision in a striking green gown that matched the dress of the girl she was talking animatedly with. As he looked at her, his heart clenched with sadness. He had missed her so much.
Before he had to make the troublesome decision about whether to say hello to Adeline or not, he was spared, as Duchess Shawham swept toward him with a flourish.
“My dear Edward, I am delighted you have arrived! Have you met my daughter, Primrose?” The duchess steered him away from Adeline, and a moment later, Edward found himself being introduced to people.
“Edward Wolstanton, this is my daughter Primrose, and a family friend, Herbert Randall.” The duchess waved her hand in their general direction, and Edward nodded.
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said, bowing to Primrose before shaking Randall’s hand.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Adeline laughing hysterically at something her friend had said, and he felt a rush of regret. He wanted to be beside her, sharing her jokes and getting to know her friends. He realized Primrose had spoken so he nodded.
“Quite so, quite so,” he remarked, dragging himself back to the woman standing before him.
Randall made an excuse, and Edward lost himself in a dull conversation about perfumery, a topic on which Lady Primrose had a lot to say, and about which Edward knew nothing, nor did he wish to.
Thankfully, the party moved to the dining hall and he was seated at the end of the table. To his chagrin, Adeline was seated to his left, while Bobbie Huntingdon-Smythe was to his right. Edward considered the two women as they took their places and wondered which of them was more incorrigible.
The last he’d heard, Bobbie had single-handedly discovered a gold-filled tomb in Egypt. Her parents, Lord and Lady Huntingdon-Smythe, were seated nearby, and he was certain they mustn’t approve of their only daughter gallivanting off around the desert on her own. He had no idea how they had ever permitted such a thing.
Lord Huntingdon-Smythe said something to his daughter and she sighed heavily. Edward was about to make a remark to Adeline, but she turned and introduced herself to the man beside her.
“Hallo, I’m Adeline Hawthorne, and who might you be?”
Edward bristled at the forwardness of her demeanor, and he wondered if it was calculated to irritate him.
“Garamond. From the Plymouth branch of the Huntingdon-Smythes.”
Edward decided the only thing was to be polite, so he smiled at Bobbie.
“I hear you’ve been quite the explorer of late,” he said.
Needing little excuse to talk about her passion, Bobbie began to tell him everything about Egypt.
As the soup was served and the room was near silent, Primrose, seated on the left side of the head of the table, which was her fat
her, and beside Arthur on the other side, spoke shrilly.
“But they’re just poems, Arthur. A poem never harmed anyone. Oh, I do wish you would let me recite one for you.”
“Thank you, Primrose, I have no interest in the slop that Jessie Pope dredges from the bottom of her morning bathwater.”
Further along the table, some other conversations piped up. Barely a minute later, over the top of the other speakers, the raised voice of Arthur competed with the shrill whine of Primrose, then there was the unmistakable tone of an older gentleman hastily changing the subject, although Edward couldn’t hear anyone’s words from this end of the table. He did, however, notice Adeline’s expression turn brittle before she looked away from her brother and glared pointedly at her soup. She really did seem to be trying to turn over a new leaf; the Adeline that Edward had known several weeks ago would have loudly told everyone what was what, then climbed out of a window by now.
“What do you think of the soup, Adeline?” Garamond asked.
“I think it’s peppery, but a little too old-fashioned for my tastes,” she replied.
“The old-fashioned recipes are the tried and tested ones, which are a good basis for future food adventures,” Edward remarked. That seemed to mirror his feelings about life right now. “I rather like the soup.”
“The sting on my tongue was unexpected. It makes me feel as though I ought not eat any more of it. Anyway, even if the underlying taste is exquisite, why subject oneself to all the pain just to experience it.” Apparently, Adeline thought the soup was a good metaphor too. Edward was glad they were talking, even if it were through the medium of soup.
“Sometimes the flavor is all the encouragement one needs.” Edward chose his words carefully. “After all, the world would be exceedingly dull if each soup were potato, and each dessert vanilla.”
Reformed by the Scotsman Page 11
