An Unmarried Lady

by Willman, Anna

  “Well, well, of course she is! I always said I had the two best daughters in the world, not that I ever did aught to deserve them.”

  “Now Papa, will you believe that we are sufficiently provided for and leave off your worrying and scheming?”

  “I suppose I shall have to give up on finding the talisman at any rate. Since the Captain knows about it, it would be more than I could handle to sell it secretly, stuck here at Lynnfield as I am, for I can see that you won’t do it for me.”

  “I most certainly will not.” Elaine said. “I’ve always been one for plain pound dealing. However, I will engage to help you search through the papers, and if we find a clue that leads us to the talisman, perhaps we can convince the Captain to agree to its sale for the purpose of paying off the mortgages, providing of course that Mr. Thompson is able to find a way for us to do so that meets the requirements of the entail.”

  “I looked into that already some years ago. I told you I’ve never crossed the line. While it would have been a shabby thing to do to sell the thing out of hand, after it has been handed down through so many generations, there is no specific reference to the talisman in the entail, just a general mention of family jewels and therefore no absolute legal requirement to pass it on. Which is precisely what persuades me that it has not in fact been sold, for I can think of no reason why its sale would not also be part of the family lore, or why no one seems to know where it is or in whose possession. There was no cause to hide such a transaction. No, it is more likely that it has been lost, but whether it was hidden here at Lynnfield and then forgotten, or whether some careless Howard female wore the gems to a ball (assuming that the talisman is some form of feminine adornment) and then carelessly lost them while dancing or lingering in the gardens, that we cannot know.”

  “Well then, if the present owner and the heir both agree to the sale, I think it would be most unexceptional and indeed quite proper to do so in order to remove the mortgages from the estate. Since the cat is out of the bag, would you object if I enlisted Mr. Merrival’s assistance in going through the papers in your box? I think Anne might enjoy another treasure hunt as well.”

  “Do what you want. Here take the box. I’m quite done with it.” Although his words were of resignation, Elaine noticed an optimistic note in his voice and thought that he was likely pleased to have this task lifted from his shoulders at last.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN: In which Love arrives and all Comfort flies.

  The new project could not begin at once, for Elaine and Mr. Merrival still had work to do before they could devote themselves to something so exotic as a treasure hunt. There were still pastures to see, tenants to visit, and papers to inspect. Elaine was reluctant for the examination of the papers to begin without them, and both Mr. Merrival and her father agreed.

  As November ran its course and the short days of December began to unfold, Elaine found herself almost constantly in the company of her cousin’s man of business. They rode out together almost daily, or wandered on foot through the damp, unkempt gardens to the old orchard to inspect a fallen branch and determine the urgency of felling a damaged and rotting tree. They were kept inside only by the most inclement weather. They consulted not only on matters involving the estate, but also on the education of the children, the seven wonders of the world, the correct conjugation of an irregular Latin verb, and the imaginative adventures of their separate childhoods. They discussed his experiences with the army on the Spanish Penninsula, considered the political sentiments of Mary Wollstonecraft, and debated the war in America.

  Elaine found herself waking up each morning in a state of suspenseful anticipation. She could not remember waking up in such a state of excitement since she was a small child anticipating a day’s adventure in the South Wood with Mary. She wondered briefly if this could be what it felt like to fall in love, but then quickly banished the thought. Elaine Howard was made of sterner stuff – she remembered that she was not so missish as to tumble headlong into love. In any case, the slim, self-effacing Mr. Merrival could in no way be said to present a romantic figure.

  Then too, there was something not quite right – some puzzle unresolved – that tendency to stumble over his words whenever the subject strayed too close to…what? She was beginning to think that it wasn’t just shyness, that awkward fumbling. It had, to her mind, more the flavor of shame. Yet it was impossible to imagine that quiet man of business involved in anything shameful. Easier to suppose he was covering some shameful truth about her cousin, but that pleasure-loving gentleman showed no scintilla of discomfort or embarrassment whatsoever.

  Still, Elaine Howard would not love where such doubts persisted. Nor was there any indication from Mr. Merrival that such sentiments would be reciprocated. Certainly Mr. Merrival enjoyed her company – she could not doubt that he was her friend. But though her cousin frequently bombarded her with flattering compliments and romantic insinuations, his man of business remained always a model of propriety. He never ventured to admire her eyes or her lips or her hair or to notice what style of gown she was wearing.

  She wondered if perhaps he considered that his status as her cousin’s man of business placed him too far below her for her to regard him as a possible suitor. Or perhaps he simply could not like her in that way. Indeed, he scarcely seemed to recognize that she was a woman!

  For the first time in her experience of the male sex, Elaine found herself at a loss. Since she seemed able neither to decide exactly what it was that she felt towards him nor to guess what were his sentiments towards her, she determined not to think of the matter again. And for some few days, she managed to do just that.

  As their survey of the estate was finally nearing completion, Elaine and Mr. Merrival informed Anne one chilly morning at the breakfast table that they had a new project, and described the history of the missing talisman. Anne enthusiastically enlisted in the treasure hunt, and Captain Howard, coming downstairs close to an hour later, decided to join the group in the library, quizzing the sisters for harboring a mystery.

  They started out by sorting the papers from the wooden box into categories, letters being separated into a pile at one end of a library table and documents stacked neatly at the other end of the table. Small scraps of paper with no more than a few words written upon them were placed back in the box for later perusal. Soon a third pile was started for drawings, maps, or aimless marks such as curlicues and circles that appeared to have been sketched out at random by an idle hand.

  They had planned on starting with the letters, but Captain Howard soon proclaimed himself too dull a fellow to make out the crabbed handwriting of their ancestors, and turned his attention to the stack of sketches, paying particular attention to any sort of scribble that might be construed as a map. He exclaimed once or twice when he recognized a sketch as representing a particular room or corner of the Lynnfield house, and one which he rather fancied represented an arm of the stables, and after a time he grew restless and said he wished to go seek out those locations and compare them with what was drawn on the papers. Elaine agreed that that was an excellent plan and offered to accompany him.

  As soon as they were alone, she spoke. “Cousin, I particularly wanted to come with you because I wished for an opportunity to have a private conversation. Could we step into the drawing room? You see, I wish to make a proposition.”

  The Captain’s eyes sparkled as they entered the drawing room. “In general,” he said, “it is the gentleman who proposes.”

  Elaine did not pretend that she didn’t understand him. “Or in our case, it is my father who would do the proposing! But you can forget about Papa’s nonsense, for we both know it would not do. No, this is about quite another matter.”

  “You disappoint me, dear Cousin. But do tell me what it is you want of me, for you can be sure that if it is within my power to serve you, I will be delighted to grant you your slightest wish.”

  Elaine ignored this nonsensical gallantry and spoke right to the point. “It is about
this talisman, you see. It may all come to naught, for it seems to me most unlikely that we will find it after all these years, but if we should indeed uncover the thing, and if it proves to be of great value…” she hesitated. “Well, it is more properly Papa’s place to propose this, but he has left it entirely in my hands, and it seems to me that if the current possessor of the object and the heir were both to agree to it, then there could be no objection to selling the thing and using the proceeds to remove the mortgages from Lynnfield. Papa tells me that the talisman itself is not mentioned in the entail, you see, so we may rest quite easy on that account.”

  He smiled at her ruefully. “I believe that this was your scheme and not at all your Papa’s.”

  Elaine nodded, and after a moment’s pause, said with some embarrassment. “Well yes. I can see that I must speak quite plainly to you, Cousin, and admit that Papa did have another end in mind, but when I pointed out to him that it would be most shockingly improper to use the proceeds to augment Anne’s dowry, and without your consent, he did in the end give his approval to this present plan. I hope you will forgive a dying man’s natural desire to provide for his daughter.”

  “I am most forgiving, I assure you. But how can it be that Anne would need such assistance? Surely he knows you would be glad to provide whatever Anne might need from your own fortune.”

  “Indeed I would, had I a fortune. But you see, I have merely a small competence.”

  “No fortune? My dear, the whole world knows of your inheritance!”

  “Oh, that is of no use whatsoever, for I have no plans to marry.”

  “So Cousin Anne has told me, but my dear, you know it won’t do. Spinsterhood wouldn’t at all suit a beauty like you. Why the world lies prostate at your feet and you tell me you would turn away?”

  At that Elaine had to laugh. “Prostate at my feet? What would I want with a world of flatterers and beggars. No my dear Cousin, I don’t want the world. I already have all that I want.”

  “You are unwise, my dear. You’d do better to be guided by those who have more experience of the world. Believe me, Cousin, the lot of a Spinster is not at all a happy one.”

  “Believe me, Cousin, I know my own mind.”

  “And I think perhaps you do not know your mind at all. I repeat, my dear. You would do well to listen to wiser heads and be guided by their advice.”

  She laughed. “And whose head would you suggest is wiser, Captain? Do you propose my father? Or perhaps yourself?”

  “I am wise enough to worship you, my dear Cousin Elaine, and to retreat from a discussion which it appears I am in no case to win.”

  She had to smile at that, but then she returned to the matter at hand. “Tell me Captain Howard, will you agree to my proposition?”

  “Of course!” Then he hesitated and for a moment looked almost as confused as had Mr. Merrival on his first days at Lynnfield. “That is, I find it a most interesting notion and will give it my most serious consideration. However, first we must find the thing, and we shall not do that standing here in the hall. Come, let us go exploring.”

  The rooms that Captain Howard thought he had recognized did indeed seem to match the roughly sketched diagrams, but as Elaine pointed out, for the most part the drawings quite clearly related to renovations long since planned and carried out. A trip to the stables ended with the same result, and the two returned to the library, where they found their comrades in the treasure hunt partaking of a light nuncheon.

  Mr. Merrival and Anne had thus far had no luck either, and Anne declared herself quite ready to abandon the attempt, “For my eyes are quite blurred from deciphering these letters. I’m sure our dear Libby would have given our ancestors quite a scold for the careless ways they formed their letters, had she only had them in her schoolroom. And their spelling is sadly amiss. If it is all right with you, dear Elaine, I think I will take some embroidery into the Green Parlor and sit with Papa for a while.”

  “Oh do go on, my dear. I had not meant to neglect him. He will be quite curious as to the outcome of our researches.”

  The Captain stayed a short while only after partaking of some cold meats, saying he thought he might go for a short ride while the weather held clear. Once Elaine had eaten, Mr. Merrival showed her how the letters were being organized – by the year in which they were written when that was indicated, and by subject matter within that framework. A quick survey of the letters thus far deciphered convinced her that their work had been thorough and the arrangement quite logical. She sat down at the table, took up a letter and began to read. After a few minutes, she laughed at a particularly comical misspelling and got a pen and paper and began to copy the letter to make a more legible copy.

  They worked companionably together for a while, occasionally sharing an interesting piece of family history, sometimes consulting about the possible interpretation of an illegible scrawl.

  And then without any warning that she could afterwards recognize or castigate herself for failing to notice, the world changed entirely. Elaine looked across the table at Mr. Merrival and found herself thinking how handsome he was, with those intelligent grey eyes slightly magnified by his eyeglasses and that soft, teasing smile, and wondered that she could ever have thought him plain. And in that instant she knew there would be no more peace for her. She was, improbable as it seemed, at last in love.

  What she was to do about it, she could hardly guess. She most assuredly would never stoop to what her Great Aunt Agatha had called “womanly wiles”, nor could she perceive how to approach the matter directly. She felt she could not bring herself to simply throw herself at the man. It would be better to keep to her original plans and to remain a spinster. Picturing that quiet comfortable life with Libby and Mary, Elaine felt an unaccustomed drop in her spirits. Yet unaccountably, they rose again immediately as Mr. Merrival looked up and smiled at her questioningly.

  “Another difficult passage, Miss Howard?” he asked.

  “No, I was just…distracted for a moment,” she replied, striving to keep her voice modulated at a normal tone. But then, what was her normal tone?

  Another hour passed, but for Elaine it was not a very productive one. Her mind would not stop going over the past few weeks – the conversations, the exchanged glances, the developing friendship which was not just a friendship but somehow immeasurably more. Again and again she directed her thoughts back to the task before her, and each time after no more than a few lines, her mind wandered back to the delicious distraction of her emotions. He was sitting so very near to her!

  “Is something wrong?” her unaware tormentor finally asked.

  “I am…having some trouble with this one. I think I will put it aside for now and try another.” She put the letter back and reached for another.

  This letter proved to be of very recent origins. “Just look, Papa has gotten this letter mixed up with the others. It appears to be the letter that Mr. Thompson sent my father telling him about the Captain being the new heir presumptive.”

  She was about to fold the letter and put it aside to return to her father when a word on the page caught her attention. “Why here is your name, Mr. Merrival. That must be why I have had this persistent feeling that I knew it, for of course Papa read us the letter when he received it. It says right here that the Captain’s mother is one Amelia Merrival. Can it be that you are related? “

  Mr. Merrival looked grave, and with what looked like a gathering of resolve was about to reply, when the Captain himself, just returned from the stables and passing through the hall, came quickly into the room, speaking with an unaccustomed abruptness. Did I hear you ask if we were relations? Well of course we are, for Philip’s father was my own dear mother’s brother. And that makes us cousins.”

  “Oh, I see,” replied Elaine, who did not quite see at all. She kept her eyes on Mr. Merrival, who had first flushed quite red and now slowly regained his natural color, though he remained very still and solemn, his eyes fixed upon the Captain with an expression
she could not understand. “I had quite formed the notion that you two had met in school.”

  “Oh indeed we did,” the Captain replied easily, “for our parents lived some distance apart and we did not encounter one another before we were both sent off to Harrow.”

  Elaine, her eyes steady upon Mr. Merrival’s face, was certain that something was very much amiss. “It is odd, is it not, for I can see no family resemblance?”

  “Oh there is nothing in that,” the Captain said glibly, “for Philip, we are told is the very image of our Merrival grandfather, whereas I more closely resemble the Howard side of the family.”

  “Well, that would explain that,” Elaine said, a good deal more calmly than she felt. She set the letter aside and took up another. The Captain excused himself, desiring to go up and rid himself of the dirt of the stables, and after perusing a few more letters each, Elaine and a somber Mr. Merrival abandoned their task for the day and made ready to go down to the Dower House to teach the children.

  That afternoon Miss Miles assigned Mr. Merrival to the task of drilling young Bart Mullins on his multiplication tables, a chore which kept him fully engaged, for the youngster was one of those boys who cannot abide sitting still for more than a few minutes at a time. After a generally fruitless fifteen minutes, Mr. Merrival proposed that they take a walk together across the great lawn, and recite the tables as they go. This method proved much more successful, the exercise relieving tension for both man and boy. When Mr. Merrival showed Bart a secret trick for remembering his nine times, the boy felt he had every reason to congratulate himself on his new teacher. At the end of an hour, they returned to the classroom where the boy showed off his newly acquired knowledge to much high praise. Dismissed for the day, the boy scampered off home to inform his startled mother that he had decided he was exactly suited to a life of scholarship.