Destinations

by Murray, Tamela Hancock

“So you forgive me, then?”

  She gave his hand a squeeze before letting it go. “Of course.” A prick of conscience caused her to bite her lip. “For you are a gentleman by not mentioning how I momentarily forgot how to act like a lady.”

  “Think nothing more of it.” Though his words were reassuring, she didn’t like the knowing smile that touched his lips.

  “Before we close the subject, Dr. Amory, I want you to know I do not conduct myself in such a manner often. In fact, before today, I have never behaved that way at all. Ever.” Realizing her face was sure to be the color of rubies, she made a show of observing a herd of grazing sheep as the carriage passed.

  “Never?” she heard him ask.

  “Never.” Eyeing him with her peripheral vision, she saw William’s eyebrows shoot up as if he were surprised.

  “That was your first kiss?”

  “Yes,” she muttered, certain that her face had flushed from the color of rubies to the hue of fully ripe beets.

  “Pity. Had I known, I would have executed the deed with far more care.” The mischief in his violet eyes was evident as he cut his glance to her. “Shall I stop the carriage so we might try again?”

  She narrowed her eyes and folded her arms tightly across her chest. “No, you may not!”

  “A pity indeed.” A chuckle brought a merry light to his eyes and countenance.

  Still blushing but no longer on the defensive, she let her hands rest in her lap and she remained silent, enjoying the rest of the short journey. She knew her peace wouldn’t last long. Helen’s certain wrath awaited.

  ❧

  As soon as she walked in the door, Lavonia was ambushed by the maid, who had been instructed to tell Lavonia to go to the drawing room forthwith. Dreading the encounter but at the same time wanting to get it over, Lavonia made haste. When she reached the French doors, she took in a breath, steadying her mind for what was to come.

  Peering through the glass, she witnessed the picture of domestic tranquillity. Comfortable in his overstuffed chair, Luke was reading a London newspaper as he puffed on a walnut pipe. Seated in the matching chair beside her husband was Helen, immersed in one of her novels. Across the room on the davenport sat Katherine, lost in the art of crocheting delicate doilies. The scene seemed so peaceful, so typical of a Sunday afternoon at the Syms estate, that Lavonia decided to keep her greeting light.

  “Comment allez-vous?”

  As soon as Helen heard Lavonia’s voice, she jumped from her seat. Pausing just long enough to set her book on a nearby table, she didn’t bother to mark the page she was reading. “So finally you see fit to return to us, Lavonia.” Her eyes narrowed. “What is the meaning of this? What made you go out alone without so much as a ‘by your leave’?”

  “I was so worried, Vonnie. I thought you might have been killed!” Having issued her complaint, Katherine began sobbing into her kerchief, punctuating each utterance with a shake of her thin shoulders.

  Lavonia marveled at the sudden change in the room. “Were you really so frantic? Why, when I looked in just a moment ago, you seemed quite peaceful, as if you had not a care in the world.”

  “We had to do something to occupy our time,” Helen said. “Since you failed to inform us of your plans, we had no idea when you might return.”

  “Or if you would return,” Katherine added. “Where were you?”

  “I was at church.” Lavonia tilted her head upward ever so slightly.

  “Church? But all of us went to worship hours ago.”

  “It was an afternoon service. At the Stone place.”

  Helen’s eyes flashed with anger. “Who told you about the Stone place?” she huffed.

  “So you knew about the services there.” Lavonia didn’t bother to ask her cousin why she hadn’t told her about them. She was well aware that Helen wished her to return to the Anglican faith.

  “Who told you?”

  Lavonia took a breath. “Dr. Amory.”

  “That snake.” Helen’s chest began to heave. “I might have known.”

  Luke patted her shoulder. “There, there, ma cherie. There is no need to upset yourself.”

  “No, there is not,” Lavonia said. “Although I am sorry I worried you. I beg your forgiveness. Now, if you will excuse me, I would like to rest.” Lavonia placed her hand on the doorknob to exit.

  “There, you see?” Luke asked Helen. “All she did was attend a church service. There was nothing to worry about, all along.”

  “Is that so?” Helen’s head snapped in Lavonia’s direction. “Did the doctor escort you?”

  She nodded, her heart sinking with the realization that all was not yet well.

  “Then where is he?” Luke asked.

  “He has gone home.”

  “Home? I should say, he acted in a most untoward fashion, to allow you to walk to your door unescorted,” he noted.

  “He is not to blame. He asked to accompany me to the door, but I was the one who insisted he not stay.” Though Lavonia spoke the truth, she wished William were standing beside her at that moment. She hadn’t anticipated the fervor of the inquisition she now faced.

  Luke’s eyes widened. “Are you saying he offended you so much you did not wish him to enter our home?”

  “No, not at all—”

  “He did not sully your virtue, did he?” Helen’s voice was high-pitched. Snapping open her fan, she began waving it frantically in front of her face as if she were facing a burst of flame.

  “Indeed not.”

  Helen looked over at Katherine, then returned her attention to Lavonia. “I realize you must speak with the utmost delicacy in front of your sweet maiden sister.”

  Lavonia rolled her eyes at Helen’s description. “I have nothing to say that is too vulgar for Katherine’s ears.”

  Helen’s eyebrows arched. “I understand, Lavonia.” She turned to Katherine. “Ma cherie, allow us to speak alone, s’il vous plait.”

  Having acquired Helen’s dramatic habit, Katherine opened her own fan and swished it back and forth in front of her face. “Surely my sister’s adventure was not so wicked that I must be shielded from the details!”

  “Let me be the judge of that,” Helen snapped. She nodded in her younger cousin’s direction. “Please, Katherine.”

  Pouting, Katherine exited as she was asked. As soon as the door of the drawing room shut behind her, Helen hissed, “She holds you in such high esteem. Why do you betray her?”

  “But I did not betray her!”

  “Conducting a private rendezvous with a known rake of undetermined pedigree is hardly exemplary behavior,” Luke observed.

  “A known rake? Who is it that knows William Amory?”

  “Many know him. For one, your Uncle Joseph.”

  Lavonia rolled her eyes. She would never rely upon his judgment. “And what does Uncle Joseph know?”

  “I know not the details,” Luke admitted through tightened lips, “but I had the distinct feeling he was not pleased to see the doctor when he last visited.”

  “Oui,” agreed Helen.

  “That is nebulous speculation indeed,” Lavonia argued.

  “But Vicar Gladstone knows the doctor well, I assume, to recommend that I commission his cousin to paint my own wife’s portrait rather than the doctor.”

  “And the vicar had no motive for wanting the commission to be paid his cousin rather than a doctor who does not even attend his church?” Lavonia challenged him. When he didn’t respond, she added, “Certainly, you do not know him, if you rely solely on gossips who have nothing better to do than to spread lies for their personal gain!”

  “Of course he knows the doctor,” Helen defended her husband. “We all are acquainted with him. Why, he has even dined with us.”

  “Upon your invitation, Lavonia. Not mine,” Luke reminded her.

  Refusing to be put off by his pointed comment, Lavonia squared her shoulders. “If he is so shameful, then why do you even invite his acquaintance?”

  �
��Why, because he is the finest doctor in the region. And his talent for portraiture speaks for itself.”

  Luke’s words brought back William’s earlier words. The gentleman you see before you, Miss Penn, would not even gain admittance into the humblest home if not for his ability to heal. And he undoubtedly would be spurned from the homes of the wealthy, except for his ability to paint portraits.

  So William’s observations were no exaggeration. She felt her chest tighten.

  Helen’s voice interrupted her musings, “It is true that William Amory is a fine doctor. I have told you so myself, many times. No one would dispute that.” Stepping toward Lavonia, Helen placed what was meant to be a consoling hand on her shoulder. Her tone became sympathetic. “I am certain you are grateful to him for helping your sister. But gratitude need only go so far. There is no need to mingle with the lower classes just because they have done you a favor, ma cherie.”

  Only sheer force of will restrained Lavonia from blurting William’s secret, that his father had been of more noble station than Helen could ever hope to be. As much as Lavonia wished Helen could be her ally, if her opinion changed merely because of William’s lineage and not because of his heart, the victory would be hollow indeed.

  “Listen to your cousin. She knows how to make a fine match.” Luke’s voice was conciliatory, and he smiled as if her transgression were forgiven. “Helen, darling,” Luke continued, “Why do you not plan a gala in honor of our house guests? Just a few friends who might prove prospective and appropriate suitors.”

  The delight on Helen’s face was obvious. “What a pleasing notion!”

  “No, it is not,” Lavonia snapped.

  Helen looked at her, askance. “Whatever do you mean?”

  Lavonia softened her tone. “Though I am grateful to you for your kind intentions, I have no desire for a party of any sort.”

  “Do you fear it may not seem correct to be the guest of honor at a party so soon after you have come out of deep mourning? I do understand,” Helen consoled her. “But I assure you, we shall keep the event within the confines of what is proper.”

  Lavonia wondered when Helen would ever see that the world’s idea of what is proper had little effect upon her. “That is not the reason.”

  “Then what?”

  Luke intervened. “If you think I will permit you to traipse around with that rapscallion, then you are mistaken.”

  “What have you to say about my suitors?” Lavonia challenged.

  “Since I am your closest male relative, everything.”

  “I beg to differ. Uncle Joseph is my closest male relative.”

  Luke chuckled. “And you believe your uncle will give his consent to any association with this doctor?”

  Recalling the obvious animosity she had witnessed between William and her uncle, Lavonia knew Luke was right. He would never concede.

  Luke threw her a triumphant smile. “I shall interpret your silence as agreement.”

  “Well, now,” Helen said, closing her fan. “What a relief to have that matter settled. You do know, dear, we have your best interests—and the best interests of our family’s good name and reputation—at heart. It would be tragic indeed to have you be seen socializing with such a man. I only pray no one of any importance saw you today.”

  As Lavonia thought about the devout crowd of worshipers at the church service, her rage at her cousin’s snobbishness increased. “No one you would think is of any importance.”

  Helen smiled. “Very well, then. All is forgiven.”

  “As long as you never see the doctor again,” Luke added.

  “I will consent to no such thing!”

  “But why not, Lavonia?” Helen asked.

  Lavonia didn’t hesitate to answer. “Because, my dear cousin, I love him.”

  fourteen

  Lavonia couldn’t believe what she had just said. But once spoken, it was too late to take back her words.

  Helen didn’t hesitate to fly into an apoplectic fit. “Love him? Certainly not! I will not allow it!” She stood and stamped her foot for emphasis.

  “But, but—I do!” For the first time, Lavonia realized that she did indeed mean what she said. She loved William Amory. And though Helen and Luke should not have been the first to hear her declaration, expressing her emotion left her feeling more free than she had felt in a long time.

  Helen’s breathing became ragged. “This should have never happened. He should never have kidnapped you like that. We should have been keeping a closer eye on him. This is all our fault!”

  “No, Helen, there is no one to blame,” Lavonia insisted.

  “What would your dear parents say if they knew how we had let you run wild?” Helen agonized. “What will people say about such an ill-suited match?”

  Placing a hand on each of Helen’s shoulders, Luke guided her to the davenport. “Helen, do try to calm yourself,” he said softly.

  Nodding, she withdrew the bottle of smelling salts she always carried and inhaled. As she regained her composure, Luke tried to remain the voice of reason. “Lavonia, let us sit down and discuss this matter in a rational manner, as befitting adults.” Motioning for her to sit in the chair next to his, he waited for her to acquiesce before he took his seat.

  Though Lavonia had no wish to discuss anything about William with them, she could see Luke was making every effort to keep his household from erupting into a complete uproar. She sat, deciding to at least give him a hearing.

  “Do you realize that you have not known Dr. Amory very long?” he began.

  “There is no set time to determine one’s true love, except the time God allots.” She searched her memory for examples. “Remember Isaac? His wife Rebekah was chosen for him by a servant of Abraham. Her father agreed to let Rebekah leave his home to marry Isaac, sight unseen. And later, her son, Jacob had only known Rachel a month before he asked Laban to give him her hand as wages for his labor.”

  “Romantic Bible tales indeed, but both of those marriages took place in a culture and time much different from ours,” Luke pointed out.

  “I have no dispute with you on that point,” Lavonia agreed. “But though times change, God remains the same. Certainly you recall that Jesus is recorded in three of the Gospel books, Matthew, Mark, and Luke, as saying, ‘Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away.’ ”

  “Perhaps. But in the case of both betrothals you cite, the prospective bridegroom stated his intent, either directly or through a representative. However, in your case, Dr. Amory has not seen me to express any such intention toward you. So how can you be certain your feelings are reciprocated?”

  Lavonia felt heat rising to her cheeks. “I suppose I have no way of knowing.”

  “I see.” He paused, presumably to allow her time to absorb the impact of his observation. “In that light, do you think it wise to pin all of your hopes on this man?”

  The clear logic of his argument made her squirm. Unable to give him a satisfactory answer, she stared at the botanical pattern on the gold-and-black Persian rug.

  “Lavonia, you are not experienced in the ways of the world. And from what I have seen since you have been here with us, you have a pure heart. One that can be easily broken, I fear. You do realize it is not my wish for you to be taken advantage of in any way, particularly while you are a guest in my house.”

  Her eyes still fixated on the rug, Lavonia nodded.

  “But you need not fear. What you told us here today shall remain in our confidence. We shall never tell a soul, not even your sister. It is not our wish for you to be embarrassed.” Reach-ing over, Luke gave her a couple of reassuring pats on the hand.

  “Thank you,” she muttered, realizing that was the expected response.

  “However, whatever your feelings are for the doctor, I recommend that you not see him again.”

  She raised her eyes to his. “But—”

  His voice was sharp. “Not because of the doctor’s character or station. But because
I believe you need time away from him to take assessment of your feelings. See if they are real. See if they are indeed from God.” His countenance took on a pleading look. “Will you do that? Not for us, but for yourself?”

  Lavonia thought for a moment. Perhaps Luke was right. Her feelings had come upon her quickly, and she hadn’t taken the time to think about them, or to ask the Lord about them. Finally she nodded. “All right. I will not try to see him for a while.”

  As soon as she made her promise, she wondered how she could possibly keep her word.

  ❧

  As soon as Lavonia agreed not to see William, Luke had dispatched a letter to him with express instructions to show restraint toward Miss Lavonia Penn. With all hopes shattered that she would see William by accident, Lavonia did everything in her power to keep her mind from thoughts of him, but nothing she did—or didn’t do—seemed to help. Thankfully, Helen didn’t seem to notice her moods. Even better, she made no further comments about William. Lavonia wondered if perhaps Luke had advised her not to put Lavonia in the position of defending him. Whatever the reason for Helen’s discretion, Lavonia was grateful.

  The following Sunday she wished to slip out of the house long enough to go to the worship service at the Stones’. Yet each time there was an opportunity, Helen, Luke, or Katherine would intervene. Though they didn’t say it, Lavonia knew they were keeping a close watch on her, lest she stray from her promise. She wondered if he went to the service without her. Though her heart ached to be with him, she prayed that he went. At least one of them should have the edification of God’s community of believers.

  By late afternoon, when she had given up all plans for escape, Lavonia sat with the others in the drawing room. With the ladies’ permission, Luke lit the tobacco and puffed, sending smoke throughout the small room. Helen was reading, while Katherine searched her sewing basket and ex-tracted a skein of white yarn. Since each was immersed in singular pursuits, Lavonia knew she could read her Bible in comfortable silence.

  Closing her eyes, she silently asked God to speak to her as she committed her devotional time to Him. Then, opening her eyes, she slipped her thumb at a random place in the Holy Book. It fell open to Song of Solomon 5:2: “I sleep, but my heart waketh: it is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, saying, Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled: for my head is filled with dew, and my locks with the drops of the night.”