by Cheryl Bolen
She most certainly was not the sort of woman who went about making herself appear desirable. Desirable in the way Appleton found women desirable!
Good lord, what will I do if she gets herself married? He would lose the best friend he ever had. Why could she not continue wearing her high-necked dresses and spectacles? It was as if she were misrepresenting herself to a future husband!
His knowledge of Miss Arbuckle assured him that she would never intentionally misrepresent herself. This had to be Glee's doing!
He braved the cold, hissing winds to rap upon the Arbuckle's peeling front door. Normally, he was admitted by a thin, stern housekeeper, but today Miss Arbuckle herself opened the door. "I didn't want you having to stand in the cold," she said, smiling broadly upon him.
His gaze went first to the cluster of curls artfully framing her face—a face without spectacles! Then his gaze dropped to that creamy expanse of skin. "I cannot be responsible if you should take your death of cold in that dress."
"I would never hold you responsible, Mr. Blankenship." She gathered up a woolen spencer and handed it to him. "Will you assist me, please?"
He took the little piece of frippery that would cover her shoulders, though it would not provide much warmth. As he lay it upon those smooth ivory shoulders, his heartbeat raced. "There you go."
She slowly turned and favored him with a smile, then reached down and lifted her faded red cloak. "And this, too, please."
Now here was a piece of her clothing he recognized. And with great fondness, too. He placed it upon her shoulders, tied it below her chin, and found that his heartbeat was racing again. A sense of well-being filled him as he became aware of the subtle smell of roses. Where in the devil did roses come from in the dead of winter?
Then, to his dismay, his gaze alighted on not one but two bouquets (neither of which happened to be roses) upon the sideboard. Good lord, did she have two suitors?
"Just as soon as I put on my gloves, I shall be ready to go," said she.
Once she was bundled up for warmth—to his great satisfaction—he proffered his arm and led her to the coach. He was not accustomed to offering Miss Arbuckle his arm. It was the demmed hair and revealing clothing that made him much too aware of her gender. Why could she not be content to be his good friend? Why must she persist in acting like a woman? Miss Arbuckle never before acted like other members of her sex.
The difference between her and other women was what accounted for his great friendship with her.
In the coach, she sat opposite him—as she normally did when it was just the two of them, which only occurred during the coldest months of the year. He would not allow the coachman to start until Jonathan was assured that he had covered Miss Arbuckle in the rug's warmth. "Warm enough?" he asked.
"Yes, thank you."
Only then did they proceed.
"I apologize that it's not the kind of day one visits Sydney Gardens." Was it the mention of gardens that made him smell roses again?
"You mustn't apologize. It's not your fault it's so cold."
He gave a little laugh. "I suppose I was merely eager for an opportunity to be alone with you. I have missed our discussions whilst I've been at Sutton Manor."
"I have too. In fact, I've been ever so anxious to discuss with you that very fine essay you wrote against slavery."
He shrugged. "I daresay there's little need to keep lambasting such a brutal practice—at least here in England."
"It is our good fortune that so many of our countrymen are enlightened in their opposition to it."
"I did receive a great many positive comments about the anti-slavery essay." He drew his breath. "It was rather the opposite with my essay about labor unification."
She nodded thoughtfully. "Allow me to speculate. I daresay the big landowners were up in arms."
He had known she would instantly grasp the situation. "You have the right of it. They claim if their laborers were paid a decent wage they would go bankrupt, have to sell off all their land, and then where would the country be when there was no work to be had?"
"Then your next essay needs to explain all the positives that can arise from a better paid citizenry."
"Exactly what I was thinking! In fact, I've already begun it. Would you do me the goodness of reading it to see if you think I'm approaching the subject in the right way?" There was no one whose opinion he valued more.
"I would be honored to."
His gaze moved to the heap of papers on the coach bench beside him. "A pity you're not wearing your spectacles. I brought it with me."
"I would love to take it home with me and share my thoughts on it with you later."
Instead of being disappointed that the omission of her spectacles had deprived him of her immediate opinion on his new piece, he was rather happy that he was extending his meetings with her. As long as she was with him she could not be with one of her unworthy suitors.
"Have you followed through on my suggestion about having your essays bound in a nice volume?" she asked.
"I have made an appointment to speak with the printer here in Bath tomorrow morning."
"I know the cost must be very dear."
He nodded. "A London printer had given me some idea of how much money it would take, and it will take all the money I can get my hands on."
Her face fell.
"I wouldn't undertake the printing if I were not going to present copies to my family and friends, and that certainly includes you, Miss Arbuckle."
"Money could not purchase anything that I would rather have. I do thank you for considering me."
As they rode on, it suddenly occurred to him that the rose scent was hers. Was this, too, part of Glee's fancying up?
"So, tell me, what will your rebuttal say?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Were you writing a rebuttal, what would you say?"
As she always did, she pondered his question for a few moments in order to articulate a thoughtful response. "I should either make up a scenario that demonstrates the benefits of paying higher wages, or I would do my best to try to find an actual example of such a thing in practice." Her brows elevated. "Though I daresay you are not likely to find such an example in England."
"There you are wrong."
Her eyes widened. "I am unaware of any wealthy landowner who is so enlightened."
He was uncommonly proud when he answered. "It is my brother, though he does not care for others to know of the many fine and good things he does for those who are less fortunate."
"You two are so vastly different that I would never have suspected. I daresay you are the one who has initiated your brother's enlightenment."
"Though he does read—and agree with—my essays, I believe that it's his marriage that has transformed my brother. I will own, when he was a bachelor, we were always in opposition, but that is no longer the case. Now that he is a family man, it seems our many similarities have emerged—which is to say, now that he's married he is more like our father."
"I remember Glee making the same observation."
It was only natural that while they were speaking of his family, he bring up the troubling situation that was bothering him. After all, he shared everything with Miss Arbuckle.
But he hesitated. He did not want her to think unkindly of his mother. Even if Mama had been unkind for many years.
"Has Glee ever spoken to you of my mother?"
Again, she waited a moment to answer. "She told me that your mother is a step-mother to your elder brother."
"Did she say anything else about my mother?"
"Only that there was an estrangement between her husband and his step-mother, but she did not tell me the cause of the estrangement."
Gratified that Glee had not maligned his mother, he pondered how much he was willing to tell his friend. "Gregory and his wife have some justification to be estranged from Mama, but both my mother and I are deeply desirous of mending the rift."
"Christmas is the perfect time to do that."<
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He smiled at the woman whose thoughts always paralleled his own. "It is up to me to make the proposal to Gregory, and I've been a coward."
"What is the worst that can come of your magnanimous proposal?"
He suddenly realized the worst thing that could happen would be for things to stay as they were now. "Then it is well worth bringing up the subject with my brother. Thank you, Miss Arbuckle."
"I am honored that our friendship enables us to speak of personal matters."
Personal matters, indeed. How he wanted to ask her if there was a particular man whom she was honoring with her affection, but he did not want to hear the answer. He wanted to continue on as he and Miss Arbuckle always had.
Throughout much of the day, they rode though Sydney Gardens, then along most of the streets of Bath and never exhausted their conversation. When the coach finally returned to her house, he said, "I have excessively enjoyed being with you today. I should like to send my brother's coach to your house tomorrow to collect you. I thought an afternoon together in the library at Blankenship House would be an agreeable way for us to pass the time."
Her brows lowered. "As much as I should adore spending the afternoon with you, I must decline. I have made other plans."
He hoped to God she was not going to be with that lecher Appleton!
Chapter 4
The first thing she saw after she said good-bye to Mr. Blankenship on her home's doorstep was another bouquet on the sideboard in the entry hall. Glee must be spending a fortune on flowers. All in a vain effort to make Mr. Blankenship jealous.
Her aged parent met her in the corridor. "You've just missed a Mr. Appleton, who brought those violets for you. How popular you've become since you've acquired Lady Sedgewick's castoffs. It's fortunate for my daughter that breeding twins put the extra weight upon the countess."
Her mother was incapable of suppressing an inflection of pride in her voice when she mentioned Lady Sedgewick—friend to her daughter. (And to Miss Arbuckle's mortification, Mama was guilty of boring her own friends by casually working into every conversation, "My Mary's friends, Lady Sedgewick and the Earl of Sedgewick's two sisters. They were together at Miss Worth's School for Young Ladies, you know.")
"I am not sorry to have missed Mr. Appleton. By comparison to my dear Mr. Blankenship, his company would have been tiresome."
Her mother's eyes narrowed. "May I remind you that Mr. Blankenship treats you only as a friend. Other men may wish to offer you something more."
Even though her mother spoke only out of love, her words wounded Miss Arbuckle. She had never before realized how disappointed her mother was in her failure to attract a husband.
Mary nodded, then spun away. She could not allow her mother to see that she was on the verge of erupting into tears. She clutched Mr. Blankenship's partial essay more tightly in her hands and began to mount the creaking wooden stairs. "I am most anxious to read this piece that Mr. Blankenship has asked my opinion of."
In her bedchamber, she sat near the fire. Before she began to read Mr. Blankenship's work, she wished to recall the many things she and he had so freely discussed that day. She had not enjoyed herself so much since he had left Bath at the end of the summer.
More than anything, she glowed. Never before had he consulted her regarding a personal matter. How honored she was! And more than once today he had told her she was his dearest friend. Clearly, in so many vital ways, he regarded her as she regarded him.
Was there any hope that his deep friendship could turn into something even deeper?
Her thoughts flitted to Melvin and Catherine Steffington. The day she had heard that they were marrying was unquestionably the most shocking day in Miss Mary Arbuckle's life. She would have wagered the roof over their head that the serious twin was incapable of even noticing if a woman happened to be lovely.
If Melvin Steffington could fall in love, then so could Jonathan Blankenship!
She wondered if she had done the right thing by putting all her trust in Glee. Glee had been the one to tell her that under no circumstances was she to consent to see Jonathan Blankenship two days in a row. "Make him believe you have other callers," Glee had insisted.
Oh, how Miss Arbuckle wished she would have been permitted to see him again on the morrow!
She took the crumpled pages of his essay and went searching her bedchamber for her spectacles.
* * *
Though he would rather contemplate his special friendship with Miss Arbuckle, Jonathan knew he must act upon his Christmas scheme no later than today.
Gregory was not at home when Jonathan returned. Which was just as well. For Jonathan had decided he would first speak to Glee.
As he climbed the stairs to her private study, his heart hammered. At the opened doorway of her green and gilt chamber he stood for a few seconds, watching her scribbling away at her French desk. "I beg a private word with you."
Her face brightened. "Pray, close the door."
He eased the door shut, then came to sit upon the silken settee.
With more than her customary exuberance, Glee did not wait for him to speak. "Are you going to tell me you've come to your senses and realized Miss Arbuckle is the perfect mate for you?"
Her unexpected comment stunned him. Whatever he had planned to say vanished from his mind like paper tossed upon fire. "Good lord, no! Miss Arbuckle and I are friends. Nothing more. I don't know what could possibly have given you such a ridiculous notion!" But he did have some idea. He and Glee both knew that Miss Arbuckle was seeking a husband. More's the pity, he thought with a deep sense of loss.
"Oh." She sounded decidedly disappointed. "Then what did you wish to discuss?"
He quickly repressed any notion of being wed to Miss Arbuckle. "My mother."
She stiffened in much the same way Gregory did when his step-mother was mentioned. "Oh."
"Surely you've noticed that she is eager to be grandmama to Gregory's and your children."
Glee nodded. "She has been very kind in that regard."
"I will be honest with you," Jonathan said. "I thought this Christmas would be a good time to reunite this family. I know there has been disharmony, and my mother is far from being blameless, but I know too that she has come to regret her past mistreatment of Gregory."
Her eyes unusually cold, Glee asked, "She has told you this?"
He nodded. "I thought the time had come to pull up the carpets and sweep out all the bad things that had lain beneath them for too long."
"So you confronted her over her mistreatment of my husband when he was young? Mind you, I did not learn of this from Blanks, who refuses to discuss it."
Now Glee again reminded him of a cub’s angry mother. "I did, and she most sincerely grieves because of her former behavior. She wants to atone."
Anxiety gripped his gut as he awaited her response. Though normally impetuous, Glee was taking her sweet time forming an answer to the request that had been so bloody difficult for him to make. He thought of Miss Arbuckle's comment upon his dread. He had nothing to lose and a great deal to gain.
Finally Glee favored him with a smile. "There is no better time than Christmas for a conciliation between Blanks and Aurora. It would make for the truest validation of the Christmas spirit. "
"I had hoped you and Blanks would see it that way."
"Please understand I don't speak for Blanks. What I propose is that we not tell him she is coming. I believe my husband is possessed of a generous enough nature that he will see her presence as a peace offering and will then welcome her."
She was probably right. Gregory was one of the kindest-hearted persons Jonathan had ever known. Still, not consulting his brother troubled Jonathan. Was there a possibility Gregory would be cold to Mama? Jonathan would feel wretched if that happened since the family's Christmas reunification was all his idea. "I would feel better if Gregory had the opportunity to approve the plan."
"It will be better this way. Just think, Jonathan, how heartwarming it wi
ll be to see each of them affirm a new beginning. Just like Christmas celebrates a new birth."
"Are you sure?"
"I will not lie. I don't know how Blanks will react to Aurora's visit. Clearly, she's changing, and I believe he will be touched that she has made that first step toward a truce."
"She has truly become a changed person."
"Oh, Jonathan, it will be the best Christmas ever. I felt it as soon as I learned you desired to spend it with us. Now it will be even better. I'm also bursting with the good news that my brother is coming for Christmas. It will be the first time all three of us siblings have been together on December 25 since before the three of us were married."
His brows lowered. "Your house will be far too crowded---Mama and I- - -"
She held up her palm. "My brother and Sally are not going to be staying here, Silly! You forget Thomas Moreland owns the largest home within in thirty miles of Bath. We'll all be gathering there at Winston Hall on Christmas Day."
He hoped to God that if Gregory meant to turn a blind eye to Mama's overture, he would bloody well do so before all their families gathered at Winston Hall.
For some unaccountable reason, as Glee reached for her correspondence, his thoughts turned to her initial statement about him coming to realize that Miss Arbuckle would make him a perfect wife. Of course she would, but nothing could be in greater opposition to his desires.
Jonathan did not want a wife. True, if he were the marrying kind—which he most certainly was not—no one could be more perfect for him than the dear lady.
Just thinking of her wedded to an undeserving rake like Appleton, though, made Jonathan feel as if he could wield a sword in defense of her honor.
He had a very good mind to locate the reprobate and warn him off.
The door to Glee's study eased open, and his brother entered the chamber. Gregory nodded to Jonathan, then moved to his wife and tenderly planted a soft kiss at her neck. "How is my love?"
She whirled around, circled her arms about her still-bent-over husband, and kissed him. "I am excessively happy, if you must know."
