Miss Armistead Makes Her Choice

by Heidi Ashworth

  The day, however, did come to an end and Mr. Lloyd-Jones had delivered them all to Aunt Augusta’s house with vows from both parties that they would see one another soon. Every fiber of Elizabeth’s being had rebelled at the parting, one which promised to be of short duration. It was nothing to the peaceful emotions she had experienced when she had parted from Duncan for the long sea voyage.

  Later, as she dressed for dinner, she reflected on her feelings and was persuaded the contrast was due to the fact that she planned to spend the rest of her life with him while she only had little more than a fortnight to enjoy the company of the Lloyd-Joneses before Duncan’s ship arrived. Her belly clenched at the notion and she wondered why that should be so. A voice at the back of her mind whispered that perhaps she did not love Duncan and she was marrying him for all of the wrong reasons.

  Angrily, she pushed the unworthy thought away and redirected her attention to the final fitting for her wedding dress she had experienced the day prior. The gown was every bit as lovely as she had hoped. The wedding was to be at St. George’s at Hanover Square and the long train at the back of the otherwise fairly simple muslin gown was quite dramatic. The bodice was tucked with a trim of lace that flared to make up the quarter length sleeves and leaves and scrolls were embroidered in white down the front of the skirt and around the entire edge. It was quite simply delicious but far simpler than her father could afford. Elizabeth felt it foolish to spend a great sum of money on a dress her groom would not be able to see but owned that the train was a personal indulgence. After all, it wasn’t as if every guest at the wedding would be blind.

  The very thought led her to wonder if she should invite the Lloyd-Joneses to her nuptials. They had become such dear friends in such a short time and she had no doubt they would grow dearer as the weeks went by. She made a mental note to ask her mother and aunt after dinner as to what was expected and how she might go about it.

  As it turned out, the evening meal was a bit tiresome in light of Katherine’s smug remarks with regard to the progress she was making in her pursuit of Mr. Lloyd-Jones. However, her pretensions turned to outright anger when the butler brought to table a note from Miss Lloyd-Jones addressed to Elizabeth alone.

  “What could Miss Lloyd-Jones have to say to Elizabeth that should not apply to me?” Katherine asked petulantly.

  “I don’t know, Kate,” Elizabeth said with a great show of patience. “I shall open it and perhaps discover the answer to your question,” she added as she broke the seal and unfolded the thick vellum. “Why, how lovely! They have asked that we accompany them on a picnic tomorrow, all four of us once again.”

  “I am most sorry, girls,” Aunt Augusta said, “but these old bones are not accustomed to such a quantity of staircases in one afternoon. Doubtless I shall not be able to get out of bed tomorrow let alone dispose myself on the ground to consume grapes straight from the vine.”

  Elizabeth felt her heart plummet at her aunt’s words. “But, Mama, you shall go, won’t you? We shall miss you, Aunt, but cannot Mama serve as chaperone well enough?”

  “Yes, indeed, if Hortense wishes to, I can think of no reason why you should not all go.”

  “I think it sounds an excellent notion,” Elizabeth’s mother replied. “The two of you shall look a picture with those matching sprig muslins you had made up last year.”

  “Yes,” Katherine announced, “I find saffron to be quite complementary.”

  Elizabeth contemplated the muslin to which her mother referred, one worn with a straw chip bonnet tied with a wide saffron satin ribbon, and knew a curious sense of defiance. Certainly her mother knew that saffron was far from her best color. Soon Elizabeth would be married to a man who would have no care as to how she looked or what she wore. For once in her life she wished to dress to be admired, for as long as she had remaining to her as a maid.

  “I do believe I left that one behind, Mama.”

  “You never did! Well, then, I suppose you shall have to don one of the new ones we recently had made up.”

  “Yes, I suppose I shall,” Elizabeth said as offhandedly as she could manage under the glare of Katherine’s ire.

  “I am ever so glad of the smart parasol trimmed in jonquil I picked up during our last shopping expedition,” Katherine interjected. “I had thought to use it first once I returned to the heat of India but I am ever so glad I bought it as it shall be the perfect thing for a picnic.”

  “Yes, Katherine, indeed, and I am persuaded Miss Lloyd-Jones addressed her missive to me so as to be all that is proper. If she had addressed it to you, it might have been deemed by Aunt as too forward. As I am betrothed, there is nothing untoward about it.”

  “Yes! You are betrothed!” Katherine cried as she jumped to her feet. “Why must you be endlessly reminding us?” With that, Katherine began to cry and rushed from the room.

  Elizabeth looked to the others and saw the self-same expression of astonishment on their faces as she herself felt. “I had not known that Kate was envious of my marriage. Could it be only that she shall miss our friendship?”

  “I think there is more to it than that, my dear,” Aunt Augusta replied. “Was Katherine known to Mr. Cruikshank prior to your engagement?”

  “Yes, indeed, but what that has to say to the matter, I couldn’t say.”

  “Did she spend time with him, dance with him, sit in the corner with him conversing at balls prior to his accident?”

  Elizabeth looked to her mother in bewilderment. “I can’t say. I was not in the habit of following his movements at that time. Mama, do you remember them together at all?”

  “But, of course! I must say, I had thought they were very close to an understanding at one time. His accident put an end to that, however. Her father would not agree to a marriage, even if Mr. Cruikshank had made his intentions clear.”

  “You don’t suppose she fancied herself in love with him, do you?” Elizabeth asked faintly.

  “I imagine you shall never know unless you were to ask,” Aunt Augusta said with a frown.

  “Oh, I had no idea!” Elizabeth insisted. “I feel dreadful. How she must have been hating me all of this time. I had not thought her capable of such forbearance. If it had been the other way around, I am persuaded I should have wished to pull her hair out.”

  “We don’t know that her heart has been injured, my dear,” Elizabeth’s mother soothed. “Perhaps it is merely that you are embarking on a new and exciting adventure and she is not.”

  “That could very well be the root of it,” Lady Augusta agreed. “Either way, the best course is to continue to treat her with tolerance, just as you have done.”

  “Yes, Elizabeth,” her mother agreed, “I have been exceedingly proud of you. Katherine has been most tiresome of late,” she added with a tsk.

  “Mama, I wonder if we are, perhaps, looking at this from the wrong way around. It seems to me that her disposition has changed for the worse only since we have met the Lloyd-Joneses. Indeed, her attempts to attach his interest have been most manifest. Though, what power my betrothal has that should make her cry, I cannot say.”

  “Can you not? Truly?” her aunt demanded.

  “No.” Elizabeth looked to her mother who bit her lip and stared owlishly back at her.

  “Perhaps it is because Mr. Lloyd-Jones sees only you, Elizabeth,” Aunt Augusta claimed.

  “Whilst Mr. Cruikshank sees nothing at all,” her Mama said in a small voice.

  “What?” Elizabeth asked, scarcely able to credit what she was hearing.

  “Mr. Lloyd-Jones has eyes only for you,” Aunt Augusta echoed.

  “Whilst Mr. Cruikshank has eyes for no one,” her mother muttered under her breath.

  “Yes, Mama, Mr. Lloyd-Jones has beautiful eyes,” Elizabeth impatiently conceded.

  “Whilst Mr. Cruikshank has no eyes a’ tall,” her mother whispered, nervously fingering the bit of lace that edged her handkerchief.

  “Mama! I shall not allow you to be so unkind with re
gard to the man I am to marry. Katherine’s path to Mr. Lloyd-Jones is quite, quite clear,” Elizabeth insisted in spite of the pain that gnawed at her belly.

  “But he loves you, Elizabeth; you!” Aunt Augusta insisted. “This means Katherine shall always be a dim star in orbit around the sun. It must seem monstrously unfair to her that you should have the affections of both men with whom she has become infatuated.”

  “Yes,” Elizabeth said sadly, “I comprehend it now. Only, I have done nothing to attach the favor of either of them. I saved Duncan’s life because I happened to be the one present and I spent time with him for nearly the same reason. Katherine might have spent as much time with him if she so chose; even more! And Mr. Lloyd-Jones . . If only she had been the one to step out of the carriage that night in front of his house, it might be she for whom Mr. Lloyd-Jones feels an attachment.”

  “You make them out to be as fickle as fish,” Aunt Augusta pointed out. “They have not fallen in love with you because you were present; their love for you depends entirely on who you are.”

  “I . . I wish, quite desperately at times, that I could be certain of that,” Elizabeth said quietly.

  “My darling girl, this is not why you have agreed to be Mr. Cruikshank’s wife, is it?” her mother asked. “Because his very blindness makes him the only man you can trust to love you for yourself and not for your appearance?”

  Tears started in Elizabeth’s eyes as a wave of despair overtook her. “I do not know, Mama. There are moments when I think perhaps that is the right of it. And yet, I am truly attached to him. I love him! I know that to be true!” she said fiercely.

  “It is entirely possible to love two men at the self-same time, Elizabeth,” her aunt remarked. “The pertinent question is whom you love best.”

  Elizabeth dried her tears with her serviette and bowed her head. “I do not know. I have only known Mr. Lloyd-Jones for such a short time, it is absurd to think I could love him even as well as Duncan.”

  “Yet, he makes you feel differently than does Duncan, is that not correct, my love?” her mother asked.

  Elizabeth did not wish to answer the question but her head nodded without her leave. A fresh bout of tears flooded her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. “Duncan is even now on his way to these shores. How shall I tell him that I was wrong to accept his proposal? And who is to care for him? If I do not marry him, he shall be alone with his mother with no means of support.”

  “That is not your concern or your responsibility, my dear,” her mother replied.

  “I do believe she has a point, though, Hortense. It would be quite callous, indeed, if she were to cry off for the sake of a man she has known but little. Chances are she is only suffering from the doubts that assail every bride prior to her wedding. She has made a promise to this young man and he is depending on her to see it through. Besides which,” she said with an offhand air, “it is not always wise to marry the man one wants the most. It leads to expectations that are so very often dashed. A well to do, handsome young man such as Mr. Lloyd-Jones might not make the most comfortable of husbands whereas I am persuaded Mr. Cruikshank shall.”

  “Yes,” Elizabeth said, feeling stronger. “That is precisely how I feel. I am ever so comfortable in his presence. I cannot say how much that has meant to me. What I feel for Mr. Lloyd-Jones is likely mere infatuation. It will pass.”

  “But who can make you happy?” her mother pleaded.

  “Whomever I choose, Mama, I am determined to be happy. If I were to break my promise to marry Duncan, if I were to desert him, I do not know if I could live with myself, and I am the one person I cannot escape for even a moment.”

  Elizabeth’s Mama rose and went to put her arm about her daughter’s shoulders. “I can think of no one with whom I should rather spend a lifetime. As for now, I am persuaded that you are still done in from your illness. Why don’t you go to bed, now, my darling. Things will look brighter in the morning.”

  Elizabeth was only too happy to oblige and, after saying her goodnights, did not delay in making her way from the room. She knew that the two of them whispered to one another at her expense the moment she turned her back, but it was the remark made by her mother just as Elizabeth closed the door behind her that taunted her throughout the night: “He must wed her for her dowry, for, what shall he do without it?”

  The bright morning sunshine brought with it a dull headache and a sense of foreboding. Elizabeth lay abed as she waited for the clearing of her mind that would allow her to think in a straight line. She recalled that she was in England, in her Aunt Augusta’s house, and that she had been waiting for word from her betrothed that his ship had docked and he was making his way to her side. It was with a rush of pleasure that she suddenly remembered that she was to attend a picnic at the invitation of the Lloyd-Joneses and the morning was bright, indeed.

  She hopped out of bed and went to her clothespress. She hadn’t any better idea of what she should do than she had had the night before, but she felt that she should not burn her boats in the meantime and was determined to dress like a woman who had not given up. As it proved to be a lovely day, she would have no need of her new red wool cape but the green and gray plaid pelisse trimmed in imperial green satin should be perfect. It was worn with Pomona green jean boots and a very smart chip straw bonnet with emerald green ties. For underneath, she intended to don a simple muslin gown in green sprigs with a matching sash. All in all, it would make a fetching, entirely English ensemble that promised to be vastly becoming.

  The hours leading up to the arrival of the Lloyd-Joneses seemed an eternity to wait. Elizabeth so longed to ascertain for herself if Mr. Lloyd-Jones felt anything distinctive for her than he did for Katherine and the waiting seemed very hard. The ladies waited in the first floor parlor while Elizabeth and Katherine, who was dressed in the promised saffron, took turns peering out of the window in hopes of sighting the carriage as it pulled up to the house.

  “Do remain seated, girls!” Aunt Augusta cried. You are giving me the megrims. We shall be informed of their arrival tout suite, have no doubts as to that!”

  Katherine let fall the lace curtain she had pulled aside from the window and took her seat while Elizabeth clutched her hands more tightly in her lap. She was persuaded Katherine looked the veriest child but had not realized how very much the same Elizabeth must have looked in her aunt’s eyes. “I do hope you feel better directly,” Elizabeth said. “Is there anything we can procure for you in town on our return journey?”

  “No, child, I should not have left my bed this morning, that is all. I am persuaded I shall be fully recovered by the time you return. You must be certain to tell me all about it, won’t you?”

  “Yes, of course we shall,” Elizabeth’s Mama assured her with a knowing look.

  Elizabeth sighed. At least her current dilemma had brought her Mama and her husband’s sister together in a spirit of amity that had long been denied them.

  When at long last the carriage was heard to arrive, Katherine had shot through the door and down the stairs only to reappear on Mr. Lloyd-Jones’ arm, her bonnet, gloves and parasol arranged to perfection, a few minutes later.

  “Ladies, my sister waits in the carriage. She and I are both delighted that you are to come with us today,” he said with a bow for each. “If we hurry, we ought to be able to make it back in order to have ices at Gunter’s before returning to our various abodes to dress for dinner.”

  “I cannot conceive of a more perfect manner in which to pass a lovely spring day,” Elizabeth remarked. “I have collected my sketchbook and pencils in hopes that we shall come across a view worthy of drawing.”

  “You draw, Miss Elizabeth?” He looked as if he were about to drop Katherine’s arm to come directly to Elizabeth’s side but seemed to remember himself just in time, his face turning a bit dusky with what she could only deem chagrin.

  “I do. I find it excessively relaxing.”

  He inclined his head and gave her a warm smile
. “Then, perhaps we should be on our way. Lady Augusta, we have received your missive and are saddened that you are not to join us.”

  “Oh! Do go on, Mr. Lloyd-Jones. You have no need of an old woman such as myself to slow you down.”

  “Not at all. We have room for each of you and have packed enough food to feed an army.”

  “That is tempting, I must say,” Aunt Augusta mused, “but I am persuaded I should take my rest today.”

  “Very well, but you shall be missed.” Mr. Lloyd-Jones then held his free arm out to Elizabeth’s mother whereupon Elizabeth greatly astonished herself with the speed that she put herself forward and took his arm out from under the nose of her Mama. Elizabeth was rewarded for her resolve with a wide smile and a sly wink from the corner of Mr. Lloyd-Jones’ light gray eyes that positively undid her.

  With no further ado they quit the room, made their way down the stairs and out the front door to enter the carriage. Katherine was first to be handed up followed by Mrs. Armistead. Elizabeth was next and she entered the carriage fully prepared to do battle. As such, she took up the seat next to Katherine suspecting that Mr. Lloyd-Jones would eschew the place next to her mother with the desired result: he and Elizabeth were successfully seated side by side for the duration of their journey.

  She had only a moment to applaud her faultless logic before she was assailed with unfamiliar and disquieting sensations. Whether it were because her father was too strict or her opportunities too few, she had never before been seated next to a man in close quarters other than her father or uncle, husband to Aunt Augusta who still lived when Elizabeth was last in London. So, it was with both a shiver of apprehension and a frisson of delight that she acknowledged the impressions that beset her during the course of their ride.