by Abigail Agar
“Is that your beau?” a young lady asked Gwyn.
Gwyn turned her head and realized the young lady seated next to her was the same one from the powder room couch earlier. “He is someone who I think would like to be my dearest, but we have not gotten that far. Were you in the powder room earlier lying down?”
“I was. My maid tied this corset much too tight. It was my mother’s idea. I much prefer the empire waist and soft fabrics,” the young lady spoke as if she and Gwyn had been friends for the longest time. “I’m Mary Donovan,” she finally said.
Gwyn smiled. “Gwyneth Stanton,” Gwyn replied.
“Oh, I know. I overheard you and Miss Rayburne speaking before you two knew I was there,” Mary said with a grin. “I find that ladies often do not notice me on the fainting couches and say all manner of things they should not in such places.”
Gwyn was intrigued by this young lady and the way she only barely maintained the decorum that most young ladies were forced to strictly adhere to. She had to be barely eighteen and yet so confident in herself that she did not mind voicing her opinion to complete, or almost complete strangers. “You are a most interesting young lady, Mary,” Gwyn said honestly with a smile.
“I have heard that once or twice. I have also heard that I should speak less or better not at all,” Mary said with a mischievous grin. “So, if you do not fancy your military gentleman then what gentleman does stir your interest … or is he less than a gentleman?” Mary asked the last part in a scandalized whisper before she gave Gwyn another grin.
Gwyn laughed. “I have known a few rogues in my time,” she admitted, “but I cannot say for sure why Sergeant Chavers does have my full interest. I just do not feel that I love him.”
“Well, of course, you do not love him,” Mary said with a flippant shrug. “That is not what all of this is about anyway. It is about selling you off to the highest bidder. I am probably going to end up with that fairly robust fellow by the refreshment table who keeps looking over here like I am a tasty treat.”
Gwyn glanced the way Mary had indicated and frowned at the rotund man currently devouring a pastry. The white sugar powder that encased the pastry adorned his moustache and beard. Gwyn whispered, “Oh my goodness.”
“Yes,” Mary said with a sigh. “That is why I do not care one bit how I behave here or at any of these functions. My mother is determined to marry me off into that family, and that is just the way it is. At least your fellow seems decent enough.”
Gwyn nodded slowly. “I suppose he does.”
“Cannot help what the heart does and does not feel,” Mary said with a shrug. “Sometimes it just is not there no matter what you do.”
“And sometimes it is there, and you wish it were not,” Gwyn added.
Mary nodded with a laugh. “That too,” she agreed. “We had a stable boy a bit back that could have carried me off on one of those horses, and I would not have complained one bit.”
Gwyn covered her mouth to stop from laughing at the way Mary looked when she spoke of that stable boy. “Someone could hear you,” Gwyn warned with a smile.
“If I asked them nicely would they go and tell my future husband about it? Then perhaps he would be so scandalized that he would renounce all interest in me forthwith.” Mary seemed to like that idea quite a lot as she thought about it.
Gwyn said, “He just might, but then your mother might just skin you alive.”
“You must have grown up with the same mother that I did then,” Mary said with a grin. “Nah, she will just be angry and then she will pout, and father will buy her another pretty horse. Maybe they will even hire a new stable boy to tend to it.” Mary gave Gwyn a wink.
Gwyn shook her head. “You really are horrible.” Gwyn turned her head to keep from laughing at the look of pride on Mary’s face. As she did so, she caught sight of Jack. He was leading Daphne back into the dance. For a moment, Gwyn swore that she saw red. The way the man’s hand cradled the young woman’s back so gently made Gwyn furious.
“You had a similar look on your face when Miss Rayburne and I were talking of the Shelton family woes,” Mary noted as she followed Gwyn’s gaze.
Gwyn quickly put her eyes on her lap. “I was just scandalized, that is all.”
“You know Captain Shelton?” Mary asked eagerly.
Gwyn finally sighed and nodded. “We grew up together. We were childhood friends.” Gwyn left off the sweethearts part because it hardly mattered now, did it?
“Ah,” Mary said softly. “Why did you and he not end up together?”
Gwyn frowned. “I moved to India,” Gwyn said softly. “It is a long story.”
“Sounds fairly simple to me,” Mary said, “unless there is more to it, of course.” Mary looked back to where Jack and Miss Rayburne were dancing. “Surprised he has any interest in her. There are quite a few young ladies after Captain Shelton.”
Gwyn’s frown deepened. “Well, pity upon them,” she said spitefully.
“Oh?” Mary raised her eyebrows in curiosity. “I thought you were among those besotted with the man. He is rather dashing, is he not?”
Gwyn begrudgingly said, “Yes. He is.”
“I would not be sitting here complaining if my mother wanted to hem me up with him,” Mary said in appreciation of the man as she watched the couple dance. “Perhaps that is why you are not smitten with your sergeant? Having any unfinished business with someone is never good.”
Gwyn had to admit that Jack was very distracting and she had already considered never coming back to another function. Perhaps, just perhaps, she should talk to the man. Then again, what would her mother say? Their family needed all the allies that they could get and to lose the Shelton family entirely might be too heavy a blow.
Gwyn sighed and reminded herself that whatever was between her and Jack had long since passed, and it was time for her to move on as well. Soon Jack would be happily married off to one of the adoring women he had to choose from. Gwyn glanced around and saw Sergeant Chavers shaking hands with a man she did not know. Perhaps Gwyn too could be happily married to Sergeant Chavers.
***
“So, I saw Gwyneth at the ball last night,” Henry said over breakfast the next morning at Shelton Hall.
Henry and Jack were eating alone due to their parents having gone out for the day. Jack looked across the table at his brother. Henry was eyeing Jack curiously, and Jack was sure that Henry just wanted to get a reaction out of him.
“I am surprised you could see anything,” Jack said calmly. “I assumed Mother had put you in the corner somewhere when I did not see you.”
Henry scoffed, “She just told me to behave myself. I mostly just sat and talked to Ronald Gregory about his new prospects.” Ronald was a business associate of their father, and Jack knew the man had about the same consideration of women that Henry had most of the time.
Jack nodded and said, “And I saw Gwyn. I actually spoke to her.”
“Oh?” Henry asked as he leaned forward eagerly.
Jack sighed. “It was not that exciting. We talked for a moment before her suitor came over and introduced himself. He seems like a fine man.”
“That’s all you are going to say about it?” Henry asked incredulously. “If he is a fine man, perhaps you should warn him that she left you and that missionary in the lurch.”
Jack suddenly lost his appetite. “I am not feeling well,” he said calmly. “I am going to go take a walk.” Jack rose and left before Henry said anything further.
***
Gwyn missed Sarah’s council and company, but she was also glad that she was able to talk her Aunt Mabel into keeping the young woman on permanently. She sat at her desk writing Sarah to let her know how her time at home had been going. It would be a long time before she saw the young woman in person again.
Gwyn wondered yet again what Sergeant Chavers would do if they did indeed wed. Her mother seemed sure that the man would settle in England, but would he really? The man had seemed very fond o
f India, and Major Gallagher would surely not want to lose such a good soldier.
Her pencil paused as Gwyn’s thoughts went from Sergeant Chavers and the uncertainty of her future to Jack once again. She sighed and put her pencil down. Gwyn decided that perhaps she should do something else to get her mind off Jack.
Downstairs, Gwyn found her father sitting in the observatory. The sun shone in the large windows and Gwyn could see the fields around the house. “Hello, Father,” Gwyn said softly as she approached the man hesitantly. She was concerned that she might startle him, but the man merely looked up at her.
Her father blinked at Gwyn and said, “Gwyneth.”
Gwyn smiled brightly. “Father, how are you?” Gwyn knew better than to get her hopes up. The man’s mind came and went, but she was glad that for the moment he recognized her.
Lord Stanton frowned and asked Gwyn in confusion, “Where is Jack? I thought your mother said you were getting married. I would like to talk to him at some point before the wedding.”
“Oh,” Gwyn said softly. The man obviously was still thinking of Jack and her being a couple, and Gwyn knew very well that the man would not understand if she tried to explain it. Gwyn took a deep breath and said, “I will tell him, Papa.”
“Good,” the man said as he patted the chair next to him. “Drink some tea. My mother always insisted that it was what kept the world right.”
Gwyn nodded and did as her father asked. “I think she might be right about that,” Gwyn said with a smile as she poured herself a small cup of tea.
As she sat there sipping her warm lemon tea with her father, she noticed a figure walking down by the property line. It was going down the line towards the creek. Gwyn’s eyes narrowed, and she got up. “I will be right back, Papa,” Gwyn said softly to the man.
He looked up at her in confusion, and Gwyn knew his mind had slipped again. She just patted his hand and gave him a smile that he hesitantly returned. Gwyn left as she tried to put the man’s condition out of her mind as best as she could.
Gwyn slipped out the door that led into the garden from the observatory. Her muslin dress with its comfortable empire was made for warm summer days, but not so much for adventuring out into the woods. She snagged her dress a bit on a branch and sighed as she examined the tiny tear that she had placed in the material along her side.
Jack looked up in surprise as Gwyn approached the small plank bridge that had served as many things in their childhood adventures. “Miss Stanton,” Jack said as he stood up straight from where he had been casually leaning against the railing on the bridge that crossed the creek.
“Captain Shelton,” Gwyn said mirroring the man’s formality. She pondered what she had actually wanted when she took off after the man. “Are you attending the picnic and boat rides that the Yates family is holding this Saturday?”
Jack pursed his lips thoughtfully. At that moment, Gwyn saw the young man she had known and not this formal older Jack. Jack lifted one shoulder and said, “I have not thought that far in advance. I feel that my mother probably has, though.”
“Mine as well,” Gwyn said hesitantly. “Miss Rayburne seems a nice young lady,” Gwyn remarked. She had no real interest in talking about the woman, but something in her made her acknowledge that she knew the man was courting or at least somewhat interested in the young woman.
Jack said noncommittally, “She is a nice girl, I suppose.”
Gwyn frowned. “That is not exactly a flattering thing to say to someone you could potentially marry,” Gwyn said frankly.
“I never said I wanted to marry her,” Jack shot back quickly.
Gwyn huffed, “Then you should not bother with leading her on. I hear that you have enough prospects that you could afford to put one girl out of her misery.”
“Misery?” Jack asked as his eyebrows furrowed. “Is that what I am?”
There was a question in Jack’s eyes. Gwyn saw it and knew what it was even though he never actually said the words. Gwyn could see the question, and she had no answers to give the man. She looked away from him.
Jack’s hand clasped around her arm, and Gwyn was forced to look back at him. His long brown hair which Gwyn always had thought the colour of grain in the fields, was pulled back loosely, tendrils of the hair had escaped and framed his face. Gone was the youthful, boyish grin, and sparkling green eyes of the man she had known. This man was a stranger to Gwyn.
The scar that ran from under his left eye to just above where his beard started made Gwyn’s heartache. What had he endured? Why had he left to begin with? Gwyn frowned. “You are not misery,” Gwyn said softly, so softly it was barely a whisper.
“I feel that way sometimes,” Jack said flatly as he released her arm. He turned away from her and looked back down the creek. The creek babbled and bubbled over the stones in its path. It was so wide during certain times of the year that fish could actually be caught in it as they swam between the local rivers.
Gwyn sighed and came to stand beside the man. “You finally got to be a real captain,” Gwyn said conversationally.
“Yes, although there was far less sailing than I had anticipated,” Jack said wryly.
Gwyn shrugged. “You can always take a boat on the river or lake and sail around.”
“Perhaps,” Jack said with a shrug. His fingers wrapped around the wooden railing on the old bridge.
Their fathers had built the bridge when they were just children. Gwyn remembered the building of the bridge quite vividly. It had been exciting at the time. It meant they could play in the forest beyond the creek and opened up a vast territory for exploration. To young minds that was a wondrous thing.
“Father asked me to tell you that he expects to speak with you before the wedding,” Gwyn said with a soft laugh. “His mind comes and goes. Sometimes he is in the past, and sometimes, I cannot fathom where he is.”
Jack frowned. “My father told me of his ailment. It is a sad thing to think of. He was always such an industrious soul. It must be hard for him as well as your mother and yourself. I am truly sorry, Gwyn,” Jack said sincerely. “Whatever has happened between us, your father is a good man.”
“Thank you,” Gwyn said as she was unsure what else she could say. She longed to ask him why he had done what he had done all those years ago, but it was better to let the past fall away. Jack had been her friend once, perhaps he could be again. They could raise their families beside each other as neighbours.
Gwyn and Jack stood there for a time before Jack said, “Sergeant Chavers seems like a good man. Have you known him long?”
“Not terribly,” Gwyn said thoughtfully. “He was stationed in India under my uncle’s command.”
“I see,” Jack said with a nod. “I had better be going back. It would not be due for someone to spot us alone like this without a chaperone.”
Gwyn nodded. They had never much cared about such rules before, but Gwyn knew that things were different now. “It was nice to talk to you,” Gwyn said honestly.
“And you,” Jack said politely as he gave Gwyn a dip of his head. Gwyn watched the man walk away towards the property line. She did not move to go back up to her own family’s manor house until Jack was well out of sight.
When Gwyn finally made it back, her mother met her at the door. “What were you doing out there?” Lady Stanton asked with an edge of suspicion. Her eyes fell on Gwyn’s dress. “You have ripped your dress,” the woman said with concern.
