The Affairs of Harriet Walters, Spinster

by Cathy Spencer

  ‘You’d better have a bath before you catch cold, Harriet,” Diane called after her. “Well, Augustus, what have you been up to,” she heard Diane say. Harriet laughed and dashed up the stairs to her room.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  By the time Harriet returned downstairs, bathed, dressed, and hair repinned, Bell was feasting on sweet buns and ham with Diane. Harriet was starving after the morning’s ride, and filled herself a plate of food. They chatted about their ride in the park as they ate, before turning to other things.

  “Colonel York is taking me to see Romeo and Juliet on Thursday evening at the Theatre Royale, Drury Lane,” Harriet said. “I’ve never gone before.”

  “To Romeo and Juliet, or to the Drury?” Bell asked.

  “To either, actually.”

  Bell raised his eyebrows and Harriet laughed. “You forget that this is my first visit to London. There were no opportunities for theatre-going in Willoway. My acquaintance with Mr. Shakespeare’s plays all comes from books.”

  “What can I say, Miss Walters, except that I envy Colonel York.”

  “Have you seen this production yet, Augustus?” Diane asked.

  “No, not yet, although I should like to go. I am fond of those two young lovers.”

  “Sword fights, passion, daring a family’s wrath to steal the pretty daughter – yes, I can see the attraction for you,” Diane said with twinkling eyes.

  Bell smiled and made a half-bow. “My reputation precedes me.”

  “Oh, definitely.”

  Bell wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood. “I fear that I must drag myself away, ladies. I have an appointment with my barber. Thank Fitzwilliam for the loan of his clothes, and tell him that I will have them returned, cleaned, tomorrow. Adieu, my dears.” He bowed over each woman, kissing their hands before departing.

  Harriet smiled after him while Diane sank back into her chair, stirring her tea. “Well, what do you think of Augustus now, Harriet?” she asked.

  Harriet turned to look at her, the smile replaced with a speculative expression. “He is very amusing,” she said.

  Diane paused before placing her spoon upon the saucer. “That’s a change from your earlier pronouncements, Harriet. I was under the impression that you found him clownish.”

  Harriet finished her bun and put down her plate. “Perhaps I have changed, Diane. Everyone changes, you know.”

  “Maybe life in London is broadening your horizons?”

  “We shall see. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some correspondence to attend to in my room.” Harriet rose and left, Diane gazing thoughtfully after her.

  When Colonel York was shown into the salon on Thursday evening, Harriet rose to greet him as Diane closed her novel.

  “Colonel, it seems so long since last I saw you, but it’s only been a week.” Harriet offered him her hand, and the colonel took it, studying her.

  “Why, Miss Walters, don’t you look fine,” he said. Harriet wore a beautiful, midnight-blue gown with capped sleeves slit open to display her white arms. Two white plumes adorned her rich hair, and the diamond and sapphire necklace glittered at her throat.

  “Thank you, Colonel. You look very handsome in your evening clothes, too,” Harriet replied. “Would you care to sit for a moment?” She indicated the chair beside Diane.

  “Just for a moment. How are you tonight, Diane? How are Fitzwilliam and your son?”

  “We’re all well, Colonel – thank you for asking. What have you been doing since last we saw you?”

  “I’ve been visiting a friend in the country.”

  “Good. I hope that it was cooler there than it has been in the city. It was uncomfortably warm this week, don’t you agree, Harriet? Perhaps we shall leave for the country a little earlier than usual this summer.”

  The gentleman said, “The weather was fine, Diane, especially in the evenings. But then, I’m sure that you ladies are more sensitive to the heat than I am.” Even in his black evening clothes, the colonel appeared cool and comfortable.

  “I don’t doubt that we are, Colonel. Well, don’t let me keep you two. I’m sure that Harriet is excited about seeing her first theatrical performance, and doesn’t want to be late.”

  “Yes, I’m very much looking forward to it. The story is so exciting, and seeing it performed will make it even more so.”

  Colonel York stood and offered Harriet his arm. “Well, let’s not delay then, young lady. Good night, Diane.”

  “Good night, Diane. Don’t wait up for me,” Harriet echoed as she took the colonel’s arm and followed him from the room. As they drove to the theatre, Harriet asked her friend about his visit to the country.

  “Do the people you were visiting live very far away, Colonel?”

  “About fifty miles north of London, Miss Walters. He’s an old army friend – a major. He’s lame as the result of a war injury, and his wife has her hands full looking after him. I visit him once a year to reminisce about our old campaigns, while his wife takes the opportunity to visit her sister.”

  “How nice that you can give her a little holiday.”

  “It’s a vacation for me, too. Gives me a chance to get away from the city.”

  “Were you born in London, sir?”

  “Egad – no. I was born and raised in a small town in Kent. My wife, however, was born in London and always preferred city life. When I retired from soldiering, it was natural to settle here. When I lost her, there didn’t seem any point in uprooting myself. I don’t know where else I would go.”

  “What about your family in Kent?”

  “I’ve got a brother and his family there. He had a parish for years, but he’s retired now. The children are all grown and flown the coop, but his wife is still alive. Unfortunately, my brother and I are not close.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, sir. These three months in London have been my first time away from my mother. I miss her very much and, oddly enough, my aunt. I used to find her intimidating before I got to know her better, but she really is a dear. Life in London is so much more interesting than life in Rexton – I’m not sure that I could see it all if I stayed a year – but as my visit draws to a close, I find that I am looking forward to going home.”

  “Rexton – that’s where Mabel lived, isn’t it?”

  “That’s right. She and my aunt, Mrs. Edna Slater, were good friends.”

  “Yes, I remember Mabel talking about an ‘Edna.’ A childhood friend who still lived in Rexton. Well, imagine that. The lady is your aunt. It’s a small world, Miss Walters.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  Harriet turned to look at the theatre as they drew up before the building. The play was popular that season, and the performance was well-attended. Colonel York helped her through the throng spilling out of the theatre, and they made slow progress threading their way inside to a box in the second tier. Harriet nodded to a German diplomat and his wife before taking her seat and looking around. The theatre was huge, and the din of its occupants made conversation difficult. Harriet had feared that they would be late for the performance, but many people were still taking their seats. One elderly dowager entering the box below them had so many plumes attached to her hat that Harriet wondered how her neighbours would see the stage. The younger members of her party helped to adjust her chair, arrange her train, fetch her fan, and any number of other small tasks before the dowager was satisfied. Harriet was amused that one woman could occupy so much space while the rest of her companions were so cramped.

  The play began ten minutes late, and absorbed Harriet’s attention right from the start. She forgot the heat and the distractions of the crowd in her enthrallment, and started as if awakening from a dream when the lights brightened at the interval. She turned shining eyes to the colonel, who smiled at her pleasure.

  “Isn’t it a wonderful play, sir? I think that the young actress playing Juliet is perfect, don’t you?”

  “Yes, she’s a pretty woman and very compelling in her part. I lo
ok forward to her death scene.”

  Harriet shuddered. “I don’t. But wasn’t the balcony scene between Romeo and Juliet enchanting? The garden seemed so real with the moonlight and the fountain. It felt as if real life were unfolding right before our eyes.”

  “I’m glad that you’re enjoying the play so much, Miss Walters. Shall we see if we can manage a stroll in the lobby?”

  Harriet and Colonel York pressed through the crush in the corridors to reach the lobby. They wended past knots of people, nodding at acquaintances and stopping every few feet for snatches of conversation. They had just finished a circuit of the room and were headed back to their seats when Harriet saw Mr. Bell in conversation with a lady. As Harriet and her escort approached them, Bell happened to look up and Harriet caught his eye.

  “My dear Miss Walters, imagine seeing you here tonight in this crowd,” he said. “One can hardly move. Colonel York, I hope you are well. Allow me to introduce my friend to you, Mrs. Gwendolyn Sommer.”

  Mrs. Sommer was a large, well-endowed woman teetering on the edge of middle age. She wore a fashionable gown with an immodest décolletage, and had an abundance of red curls piled atop her head. She simpered as she presented a gloved hand to the colonel.

  “So pleased to make your acquaintance, Colonel York,” she said while the gentleman bowed. She made a half-curtsy to Harriet, who responded in kind. “Miss Walters, I am happy to know you. Are you enjoying the play?”

  “Very much so, Mrs. Sommer. And you?”

  “This is my second performance, but when Augustus invited me for tonight, how could I refuse?” She aimed a flirtatious smile in Bell’s direction before turning back to the colonel. “I’m sure that I have seen this gentleman before, Augustus. Perhaps we have an acquaintance in common, sir?”

  “Mr. Bell and I are both friends of the Fitzwilliams, madam,” the colonel replied.

  “Edward Fitzwilliam? We’re old friends. Perhaps we met at one of their functions?”

  “I do not believe so, Mrs. Sommer. I’m sure that I would have remembered you if we had.”

  “Oh, you are too kind, Colonel.” She turned to Harriet. “But I’m sure that Miss Walters and I have not met before. How do you know each other, Augustus?”

  “Miss Walters is visiting with Diane Fitzwilliam this summer, Gwendolyn.”

  Mrs. Sommer’s eyes gleamed as she stared at Harriet. “Of course. I have heard of you, Miss Walters.”

  Before Harriet was able to respond, Mr. Bell said, “I’m afraid that we must return to our seats, Gwendolyn. The interval is almost over. So happy to have seen you both, Miss Walters, Colonel York. Enjoy the rest of the performance.” He turned his companion and hurried her away, Mrs. Sommer managing a small wave over her shoulder before being engulfed by the crowd.

  “We must get back to our seats, too,” the colonel said, offering Harriet his arm and escorting her back in time for the second half.

  Harriet was not able to concentrate as fully on the remainder of the play; she was too distracted by Mrs. Sommer’s comment. How did the lady know of her? Had Mr. Bell been speaking of her? And what did the lady mean by saying “Of course I have heard of you”? Had Harriet somehow become a common topic of conversation?

  Later that night, after the colonel had taken her for after-theatre refreshments and deposited her at her door, Harriet had difficulty falling asleep. She lay on her back staring at a shaft of moonlight on the bedroom wall, thinking about Mr. Bell. She decided that she did not like him taking another woman to the theatre. Of course, she had no claim upon him; she was not so foolish as to think that. They had waltzed together twice and gone for a ride in Hyde Park, but that did not indicate any marked preference of the gentleman's for her company. Diane had warned her that there had been many women in his life. He probably dispensed those charming smiles and hand kisses to every woman of his acquaintance! Besides, would she really encourage Bell? Was he the kind of man whose advances she could take seriously? What would Mother think? And Aunt Edna?

  Harriet rolled over, smacked her pillow, and settled onto her side. “Don’t be a fool, Harriet Walters,” she told herself. “You are neither attractive nor young, nor do you have the obvious attractions of a woman like Mrs. Sommer. I’m sure that lady knows her way around a man. Mr. Bell likes excitement and gambling and city life, and you are a country girl who enjoys museums and old churches. Now, put him and his lady friends out of your head and go to sleep.” She tried to follow her own advice, but the stars had begun to fade from the morning sky before she finally succumbed to sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  It was mid-June, and Harriet’s visit was drawing to a close. Diane had commented on more than one occasion that the summer had been unseasonably warm, and that the family might leave for Hampshire earlier than planned, so Harriet had written to her mother to expect an earlier return.

  Diane was planning a dinner party, and had invited Colonel York, Abigail, Harold Gwinn, and Augustus Bell to be their guests. Harriet wondered if the dinner was intended as a fare-well party for her, but Diane had not shared that with her. Meanwhile, a streak of hot weather had inspired Diane to hold the party in the garden.

  Harriet strolled out of the house before dinner, waiting for the guests to arrive. A table had been prepared in the rose arbour, and a footman hovered over it, laying the settings. The table was draped with white linen, and the glassware and cutlery glinted in the early evening sun. A breeze ruffled the tablecloth and wafted the sweet smell of roses to Harriet. The footman heard her step upon the gravel. He looked up, bowed, and withdrew, leaving Harriet to wander over and inspect the floral arrangements.

  “It’s a beautiful evening, isn’t it?” a familiar voice inquired from somewhere nearby. Harriet walked around the arbour and discovered Steven lounging on a bench.

  “I didn’t know that you were there,” she replied. He sat up, and Harriet took a seat beside him.

  “The house is rather close this evening,” he said. “I had a cool bath before dressing, and decided that it would be more comfortable waiting out here than inside the house.”

  “Yes, it’s much more pleasant outdoors.” They watched a pair of sparrows flit in and out of the hedge.

  Steven said, “Will you be leaving us soon, Harriet?”

  Harriet reflected for a moment on the most diplomatic response. “Yes. I’ve been underfoot here long enough, and my mother writes weekly of how much she misses me.”

  “We will miss you, too. I’ve enjoyed your company these last two weeks. Sometimes school holidays can be excruciatingly dull, with no one under the age of a hundred around the place.”

  Harriet laughed. “Don’t let your mother hear you say that. I’ll miss you all, too, but I haven’t been the least bit bored during my visit. London is an exciting place.”

  “What will you do when you get back to Rexton?”

  Harriet stretched out her legs and crossed her arms over her chest, aping Steven’s posture. “I’m not sure yet. Of course, I’ll spend the first fortnight visiting with my mother, coddling my aunt, and catching up on my parish visits, but I haven’t decided what to do after that. I guess I’ve been using this visit as an excuse to procrastinate making plans. I’m very grateful to your grandmother, you know. She has given me the luxury of choice. That’s something I’ve never had before.”

  Steven nodded. “You are fortunate in your independence, Harriet. I may have the means – or I will have one day – but one still has obligations to one’s family.”

  “Yes, that’s very true. So do I, even with my independence. For instance, I wonder if my mother should continue living with my sister, or if I should make her a permanent home with me. And if I leave my aunt’s home, will she be lonely, especially after just losing your grandmother? I can’t just abandon them to follow my own inclinations.”

  “And if you didn’t have those concerns, Harriet? What would you do?”

  Harriet sighed. “Travel. I’ve always wanted to see the wor
ld. But I’ll just have to put it off for now. It’s already been three months since I last saw my mother and my aunt. It’s time I went home.”

  Steven cocked his head. “You’ll have to get through this dinner party first. I hear people coming.” Harriet and Steven rose and walked around the arbour just as Diane and Edward arrived with their guests. Diane saw her son with Harriet and said, “There you are. We were wondering what became of the two of you.”

  Harriet stepped forward to give Abigail a hug. “You look very pretty tonight, Miss Pope,” she said, taking a moment to appreciate her friend’s transformation. Abigail was glowing on Harold’s arm, her cheeks rosy and her eyes sparkling with happiness. “Have you dissected anything recently?” Abigail laughed, Harold winked, and Diane said, “What was that?”

  Harriet turned to Colonel York. “How are you this beautiful evening, sir?” she asked, offering him her hand.

  “You look very well, Miss Walters. You are in your element here in the garden.”

  Harriet smiled while Bell leaned forward to whisper, “Like Eve in the garden of Eden? Does he compare you to that temptress?”

  The colonel overheard his remark and frowned while Harriet whispered back, “No, a more likely comparison would be you to the snake.” Bell grinned while Harriet took the colonel’s arm. “You are sitting beside me at table tonight, sir.”

  “Delighted,” he said as they followed the rest of the party. Symonds and the footmen emerged from the shrubbery to pour wine and to serve the chilled soup.

  “What a good idea, Diane – dining ‘alfresco,’ Bell said.

  “We do it all the time in the country, Augustus.”

  “Perhaps you’ll make it the fashion here in London, too. Speaking of the country, when are you and Edward headed for Hampshire?”

  Diane dipped her spoon into the soup. “Edward and I were discussing that earlier today. Normally, we wait until July, but Edward’s calendar is clear for the last two weeks of June. We may go early, but that would mean cutting Harriet’s visit short, and we would hate to deprive ourselves of her company.” Diane caught Harriet’s eye and smiled.