by Carla J Gade
The woman cried inconsolably. Honour didn’t care how much Mr. Sutton claimed to love her, he had no right accosting her with a kiss. She dared look around the corner again . . . coming face to face with Emily Leach.
“Pardon me. I should have been more careful.” Mrs. Leach blinked back tears.
Honour stayed her hand near Emily’s arm. “Please, let me help you.”
“Nothing can be done,” the woman sobbed.
“Would you sit with me a moment until you have calmed.”
“That is kind of you, miss—”
“I’m Honour Metcalf, recently from England,” Honour said, as a British officer in red uniform and pointed helmet happened by.
“Isn’t everyone these days?” The woman sniffled into her handkerchief, joining Honour on the wooden bench.
“Mayhap they are—” Honour offered a tentative smile.
“Emily Leach,” she said extending her hand.
Honour shook Emily’s trembling hand. “Should you like to talk, I am happy to listen. Sometimes it is easier to share one’s problems with those unfamiliar to us.” Hadn’t she done the same with Joshua? What a mix!
“I suppose it is. Those closest to me do not seem to care to hear how I feel.” The woman sighed deeply. “I have recently married, under the pressure of my parents, but the man I once cared deeply for has not accepted it.”
“Oh, dear. It must be difficult for you.”
“By chance we met and he escorted me to the alley to confront me about it. He was quite upset and I cannot say I blame him.”
Honour looked at her compassionately. “He shall accept it in time . . . he must.”
“He kissed me farewell. I was stunned and know not what to do.” Emily’s eyes widened. “Please keep my confidence. My husband must never know.”
Honour looked at her compassionately. “How distressing this must be. Life is challenging at best sometimes. This I understand. I assure you, I shall never tell a soul.”
Mrs. Wadsworth and Tempe exited the mercantile carrying several packages. “Honour, there you are. How are you feeling?”
Honour looked up. “I was tired so I thought it best to sit, but I am well.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Mrs. Wadsworth acknowledged Emily with a nod. “Good afternoon, Emily. I understand congratulations are in order. Your Aunt Eunice told me you have recently been wed and returned from your wedding trip.”
Emily donned a polite smile. “Yes, I have. Thank you, Mrs. Wadsworth.”
Mrs. Wadsworth glanced at Honour. “I see you have met my quilter. She has recently quilted a stunning suit for your aunt.”
“How lovely. And who might this be?” Emily’s face brightened as she glanced at Tempe.
Honour smiled. “This is my sister, Temperance. Tempe, this is Mistress Leach.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Temperance.”
Tempe nodded. “’Tis nice to make your acquaintance.”
“It has been a fortuitous circumstance meeting Honour today.” Emily cast Honour a small smile. “She has proved to be a fast friend.”
Mrs. Wadsworth smiled. “We should be getting along, if you are ready to go, Honour.”
Honour smiled at Emily. “Perhaps we shall see one another again.”
“Honour, you will remember my request?” Emily asked.
“Most certainly,” Honour said. “I shall keep you in my prayers.”
Emily and Honour clasped hands in agreement and fond parting.
As Mrs. Wadsworth, Honour, and Temperance strolled down the brick sidewalk Tempe tugged on Honour’s sleeve, craning her neck. “Is she the lady Joshua almost married?”
“How do you know about that?” Honour asked. “Oh, never mind.”
Mrs. Wadsworth interjected. “They were not betrothed, Tempe, but now she is married to Mr. Leach, so it is of no consequence.”
Except to Honour.
10
Ladies, your carriage awaits.” Joshua held open the door of the carriage, the portrait of a perfect gentleman. The dark blue tones of his new waistcoat complimented his gray-blue silk and linen frockcoat and breeches, making his eyes look bluer still. Honour’s eyes locked on his but for a moment, and as he dipped his chin ever so slightly, her heart quickened. When she averted her eyes, she caught a glimpse of the knowing grins of Tempe and Mrs. Wadsworth.
He handed the dear lady and Tempe up as Honour looked on. Why hadn’t he allowed his driver to see to the task? Her errant thoughts of Joshua found kissing in the alley twisted her emotions into a ball of tangled threads. She should forget about the incident, instead it left an imprint in her mind like the pattern of her bridal quilt now lost to her forever.
Yet she wondered . . . what would it be like to be kissed by him? Alas, she would never know. The pain of it stung afresh.
“Honour? Are you ready?” he asked.
“No, and I never shall be,” she wanted to say. But as she stared at the open-topped carriage she willed herself to step forward. “Yes, thank you.” She accepted Joshua’s sturdy hand, but stiffened when he braced her back as she ascended the small metal steps. Honour found her seat opposite Mrs. Wadsworth and Tempe, the pair leaving no choice but for Honour to sit at Joshua’s side.
Perhaps she should have said she was not feeling up to the picnic today. It wouldn’t have been an entire fabrication. Although she was well enough physically, her heart and mind were in great distress. Yet her actions concealed the fact she did not wish to go. But all was made right as she looked over at Tempe beaming with excitement, reaffirming Honour’s decision not to disappoint her precious sister.
As the group settled comfortably into their seats, Mrs. Wadsworth addressed Maisey, who watched them from the door of the mantua shop. “We are off to the Sutton residence. I thank you to keep an eye on things.”
Maisey nodded. “You may count on me, Mistress.”
“This will be a good opportunity for my apprentice to manage the shop in my absence,” their employer said. “I trust you will have a quiet day and all will go well.”
Maisey donned a smile. “Enjoy your picnic.” But when Mrs. Wadsworth turned away, Maisey’s eyes connected with Honour’s and a hint of something less felicitous appeared. Honour smiled as she waved goodbye. She hoped Maisey was not hurt being left out of the party, though it occurred to Honour that Maisey was not as well-acquainted with the Suttons. Maisey returned a weak wave, smile lacking.
“Home, Redmond. We’ve a party to attend,” Joshua directed his driver, who was clothed in impressive livery.
“Yes, Master Sutton.” Redmond snapped the reins and the carriage rolled forward with a clop, clop, clop of the horse’s iron shoes against the paving stones.
Tempe smiled brightly, waving at Maisey as they drove away.
“Have you any word on your husband, Mrs. Wadsworth?” Joshua asked.
“It has been nigh on six months.” Mrs. Wadsworth trailed her fingertips across her neckline as she often did when thinking of her husband. “After all these years, you would think I’d become used to his long absences, but alas, I am not.”
“I pray he returns soon and with a good bounty,” Joshua said.
Honour offered an affirming nod. “I thought you might wear your pearls today. The ones Captain Wadsworth gave you.”
“I had wished to, but the clasp gave way. I shall have to get it repaired.” She sighed.
Tempe frowned. “Ohh . . .”
Mrs. Wadsworth squeezed Tempe’s hand. “That is all right dear. I still possess them. Sometimes the things we hold dear need a little repairing now and again.”
“Like Honour? She needed repairing and now she’s better.”
Everyone’s laughter burst forth.
“Indeed.” Mrs. Wadsworth laughed again.
Joshua turned to Honour with a grin.
Honour certainly knew not how she remained so fond of Joshua, while she struggled with his secret. Though her sensibilities betrayed her, perhaps in time her heart wo
uld also mend. Was his in need of mending too?
“Uncle Joshua!” A plethora of giggles resounded as Joshua’s young nieces ran toward him and danced around him in a swirl of ruffles and lace.
Joshua pivoted around and seized the girls with tickles. As they twirled away, he caught hold of the leading strings flowing from the back of their small gowns. “I’ve got you now, and you’ve someone to meet.”
He turned back, laughing. “Miss Temperance Metcalf, please meet my nieces, Abigail and Sarah. And, girls, this is Tempe’s sister, Miss Honour Metcalf. You know Mrs. Wadsworth.”
The girls proffered their best curtsy. “Good day,” they said in unison.
Honour smiled demurely, and rested her hand on Tempe’s shoulder. “’Tis a pleasure for us to meet you both.”
Tempe offered a shy smile before casting her eyes down at her small shoes. Was she fearful of being teased by children again? He hoped his vivacious nieces didn’t intimidate her. It would be nice for her to have some new friends.
Tempe glanced up and Joshua animated his expression. “Sarah has a young brother tottering around here somewhere in his pudding-cap. Perhaps you girls can find him. He likes to be entertained by watching the girls play with their hoops.”
Sarah and Abigail took Tempe by the hands and led her away over the grassy lawn of the estate. Temperance peered back over her shoulder, but quickly turned around and the trio skipped away, the colorful ribbons of their straw hats streaming in the air behind them.
Mother approached and took Honour’s hands in hers. “Welcome, ladies. Honour, it is good to see you looking so well, and rather lovely at that.”
She tilted her chin. “Don’t you agree, Joshua?”
Joshua regarded his mother and stole a sidelong glance at Honour. “Lovely, indeed.” In fact, he could hardly keep his eyes off her. For a moment, he allowed his eyes to rest on the ruched satin ribbon adorning her neck, the shade of the petals of his mother’s impatiens plants. Dark auburn curls graced her shoulders, resting on a scarf of gossamer—the tinge of coral on her cheeks and lips pleasing enough to kiss. Did Honour realize what a beautiful woman she was?
“You are making the girl blush,” said Mrs. Wadsworth.
Honour looked around the group, her cheeks tinged pink. “It is good to be well. I thank you all for your care and generosity, and for your prayers in my time of need.”
Her sweet demeanor attracted him to her all the more. The past was gone, today the start of something new—he would reveal his affection for her and hoped to mark the beginning of their courtship.
“Let us join our daughters and their husbands under the tent. Though I haven’t yet seen your brother.” Mother glanced at Father with a frown.
“He was off tending to some business or other this morning, though I told him to leave it to another day,” Father said as he joined the group.
Mother said, her inflection rising. “Hopefully he’ll grace us with an appearance. Come along, we have a grand feast about to be served for your birthday, son.”
Platters of food graced a long table clad in white linen. A bit extravagant for a family who tempered luxury during such times, but mother insisted the special occasion, to her, was akin to the King’s Birthday! After Father offered a word of thanksgiving and a blessing for Joshua, they partook of a bountiful meal. Salmon pie, breaded oysters, fresh asparagus, kabobs roasted on the spit—his favorites!
“Mother, you have outdone yourself in preparing this fine menu.”
“I wished to serve mutton kabobs instead of beef, but all the sheep are being spared for wool for homespun,” Mother said.
Joshua dabbed at his mouth with his napkin, stood and stretched. “Everything was delicious. My hearty thanks.”
“Later we shall have cake and ice cream with raspberry sauce. Now ’tis time for gifts,” said his sister, Deborah, bouncing her little son on her lap. The girls clapped, and Matthew copied in turn.
Matthew crawled down and tottered around. He made his way to Honour, extending his tiny hands. “Up.”
Honour glanced at Joshua, concern laced across her brow. “Oh, I should love to hold him . . . though I’m not sure that it is wise with my injury.”
Joshua scooped his little nephew into his arms and sat at Honour’s side.
“What a handsome fellow you are.” Her smile so bright, it was apparent she adored children. She certainly was an excellent caretaker of her sister. Honour played peek-a-boo with him and he let out a belly laugh.
Joshua nuzzled the toddler’s neck and made embarrassing blustery noises against his soft skin. Oh, to win the woman’s heart, he’d do anything to impress her. But the truth was, he adored his nephew and nieces. What would it be like to have a family of his own?
Matty promptly found Joshua’s queue of hair and tugged the tie right out. A toy! So much for good impressions.
Deborah’s husband let out a hearty laugh. “You might get used to it, Joshua. You may have a son of your own one day.”
“Take him, dear, so we can give Joshua his presents,” Deborah said.
Instead, his other sister retrieved Matthew from Joshua’s arms. “I’ll hold him for a while,” Anne said. “I need get in the practice again, for we shall have the blessing of another child come spring.”
Sighs and smiles abounded. Brothers-in-law exchanged happy nods. Mother took a step closer to Father, and he pulled her close, a rare display of affection. Yet, Joshua could tell there was no loss of love between them even after all of these years. Joshua’s gaze glided toward Honour, her eyes already lit upon his face. What dreams lay within her heart?
“The gifts!” Abby and Sarah said.
“May I?” Tempe asked.
Honour nodded and reached into her pocket, retrieving a small parcel.
Temperance handed it to Joshua. “This is from me and Honour.”
Joshua untied the cord securing a swatch of cloth. He opened it, smiling.
“A needle case,” Tempe said.
He regarded the beautifully carved wood of the needle case fashioned into the shape of a cod. “Thank you, both of you,” he said, peeking up at Honour. “I will treasure it, and think of you both each time I use it.”
Tempe’s face beamed. The joy he saw there was a gift in itself. How fond he’d grown of the sweet girl.
Matthew made a funny shriek and Joshua noted the little pudding head was gnawing on his black ribbon quite heartily. “Ah, and I shall make use of this cord to repair my hair, as I should not wish to take Matthew’s new toy from him.” Joshua handed Tempe the needle case for a moment and raked his hair back, tying it back in place.
Everyone passed him presents, which humbled him to receive—a brass shoe horn from Deborah and her family, silver buckles from Anne’s family, and Mrs. Wadsworth gave him a fine handkerchief.
Father cleared his throat. “Please accept this gift from your mother and me to commemorate your five and twenty years as our beloved son.” Father handed him a piece of folded parchment.
Joshua carefully opened the paper. The din quieted as Joshua read the document. He looked up at his parents in astonishment.
“An early inheritance, call it what you must, but we are gifting you shares in our holdings on this occasion of your five and twenty years.”
“I do not know what to say . . .” Joshua swallowed back the lump forming in his throat. This gift was more generous than he could have ever expected, especially during such demanding times. “I sincerely thank you.”
Mother dabbed at her eyes, and Joshua stood and embraced her. Joshua extended his arm toward Father, who heartily gripped his hand. “We are proud of you, son. You have earned it.”
Joshua longed for this moment. To receive the blessing of his father. To have earned the respect of the man whom he most admired and the means to plan for his own future. A future he yearned to share with a woman he loved.
“Hello, the house!” Andrew entered under the canopy. “Birthday greetings, brother.”
> “So good of you to join us, at last.” Joshua said as Andrew clapped him on the shoulder, a bit of rum wafting from his brother’s breath.
Andrew angled his posture toward Honour, and made an elaborate bow. “Ah, you must be the famous Miss Metcalf. I don’t believe I’ve yet had the pleasure.”
11
Joshua held out his elbow, flashing his dimples at Honour. “Would you care to take a turn about my mother’s gardens with me, Miss Metcalf?”
She appreciated his removing her from the uncomfortable introduction to his brother. Introduction or confrontation? Perhaps one and the same, though she could make little sense of it. “I appreciate the diversion, thank you.” How could one brother be so different from the other, or were they? So alike in looks, the two, but Andrew’s crass tone held an air of resentment and something more. Though they’d never met, he directed it at her. How had she offended him? Was he merely protective of his brother? Had Joshua confided his feelings about her to him? Mayhap Andrew felt that she was not good enough for Joshua, she a simple quilter. Yet she and Joshua had settled the issue, hadn’t they? Their situations evened out, or else it did not matter. It mattered not to her. But now she must guard her heart against the wiles of the brother whose passions were misaligned.
Honour cast her gaze at the carefully plotted pathway laden with crushed seashells. As they ambled along, she fixated on her damask mules and his buckled shoes, their steps moving in tandem. She intentionally altered her gait, to avoid being so painfully synchronized with him. But try as she might, their strides resumed perfect harmony. She considered their ease of conversation, his anticipation of her needs before she even spoke them. There was no denying the kindred rapport she shared with Joshua. At least, that was what her heart believed.
Yet the truth of it was, he was not all that he appeared to be. Perhaps she was merely a distraction to him for love lost. His attempt at forgetting his unrequited feelings for Emily Leach. Honour might even be willing to allow it, if it meant she could gain a piece of his heart. For he had already claimed hers entirely.
