The Rescue

by Lori Wick

  “I slept very hard. It must have been our long day yesterday.”

  “You did have a long day yesterday,” Lenore said, just realizing this. “I think I would have had the Cavendishes another night had I been thinking straight.”

  “Don’t worry on it, Mother. We’ll have plenty of time to take our ease.”

  “Not today, however. Today is our first shopping day.”

  “Did you hear that, Anne? Mother has spoken!”

  “I did hear. Where will we begin?”

  “I think at Lloyd’s. They have such splendid accessories.”

  “What types of things are you shopping for, Mrs Weston?”

  “Lenore,” she corrected before going on. “I’m shopping for your trousseau, Anne. Did Robert not tell you?”

  Anne looked at her husband, her memory serving that they were going to shop but nothing about his mother’s involvement or a trousseau.

  “Have I overstepped?” Lenore asked, looking a bit concerned, her gaze going from one to the other.

  “Not at all, Mother. I didn’t explain to Anne.” As Robert turned to do this, he found his wife’s face very pale.

  “I’m sorry,” he immediately began. “Mother wrote and asked me what type of wedding gift would suit us. I told her the first thing that came to mind, and that was that she could take us shopping when we visited London.”

  “But a trousseau,” Anne argued. “It’s too much.”

  “Can you name me one thing you don’t need, Anne?”

  The question was asked gently, but feeling very humbled and put in her place, Anne gave a swift shake of her head and lowered her eyes to her plate.

  “I just remembered I must see Cook about something,” Lenore put in at that moment. “Do excuse me, will you?”

  “Anne, I’m sorry,” Weston wasted no time in saying. “I should never have spoken to you like that in front of my mother.”

  “Do you think she found me rude and ungrateful?”

  “No, I think she found me forgetting my tongue and you embarrassed because of it.”

  Husband and wife stared across the table at each other.

  “Give me your hand,” Weston requested. He waited for Anne to reach across the table. “I thought as much—you’re trembling.”

  “I hate to be such a little mouse of a thing, but at times I am overwhelmed.” Anne saw compassion in her husband’s gaze and felt it in his touch, so she felt emboldened to go on. “I do have needs in all areas, but I still think a trousseau is too much.”

  “How would you like to do this?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe just a little at a time in Collingbourne.”

  “But if you have needs now and we can afford to see to them, or if my mother is offering a gift, why not take care of them?”

  Anne reclaimed her hand and shrugged helplessly, her heart unsure of what to think or do next. She wasn’t feeling bad about having needs, but somehow burdening her mother-in-law when they’d only just met seemed unnecessary to her. It was one thing to have her husband know of her situation—he had married her with his eyes open—but she didn’t think it fair to have it fall on Mrs Weston.

  A moment more of thought and Anne saw that it was a foolish notion on her part. Of course his mother would be affected by nearly anything that touched her son, but she hadn’t expected it to come out in quite this way.

  “No one will buy anything today that you don’t want.” Weston cut into Anne’s thoughts with this suggestion.

  Anne looked uncertain and countered, “Why don’t you decide what I should get?”

  “If I do that,” Weston began, a smile peeking through, “you’ll have the trousseau.”

  Anne’s hands came up in exasperation before she said, “Weston, do you not think a few dresses and something more permanent for our home would be a better wedding gift?”

  “Our home is full of treasures,” he reasoned. “My mother is delighted to shop for you. She loves to shop. If we give her full rein—something I fully intend to do—you’ll be the best-dressed lady in all of Collingbourne.” Weston put his hand up when Anne opened her mouth to speak. “I know that’s not your goal in life, and I was being more facetious than anything else, but you do have needs, my mother loves to shop, and she wants to buy us a wedding gift. I find that a perfect combination.”

  Anne watched her husband sit back and wait. She had to admit that his argument was sound. On top of that, he wanted her to have the things she needed.

  “I did say that I wanted you to decide,” Anne said thoughtfully.

  “True.”

  “And it rather sounds like you have.”

  Weston’s eyes began to smile; his mouth was soon to follow.

  “You might even have fun,” he teased her.

  Anne shook her head in self-derision.

  “We chased your mother from her breakfast.”

  “She’d be willing to give up eating for the day if you’ll accept this gift from her.” Weston’s voice was quiet and gentle. He hated to see Anne upset, and her pale face was still very clear in his mind. “Mother really is quite excited, and again, I’m sorry I didn’t explain. It would have taken care of all of this.”

  “Do I need to apologize to your mother? I think I might.”

  “No, she understands you were taken by surprise, and if you recall, she turned directly to me to find out why you didn’t know. She understands who’s to blame.”

  “It’s like you said before.”

  “What’s that?”

  “This getting to know each other takes years.”

  Weston nodded. “Yes, but I think it will be worth our effort.”

  Anne silently agreed. It was already worth it to her. Almost daily new things unfolded, new things about herself or her husband that were helping her learn and grow. She believed God had blessed her all the years of her life, but never had His grace been so visible.

  Anne would need to remember her gracious God a few hours later when the threesome was in the thick of shopping. Lenore Weston’s eye for detail, her nose for a bargain, and her delight in seeing Anne with new things would make for a day that the younger Mrs Weston would never forget.

  “Look at this pair, Anne. They’re just right for you.”

  “Oh, my,” Anne breathed for the dozenth time, touching the long kid gloves and marveling at their softness.

  “I think several pair,” Lenore was saying, consulting her list. A clerk stood at her elbow and made notes on her own pad.

  “That many?”

  “Certainly, dear, you never know when someone might spill on you. My Betsy is a wonder with stains, but not even she can manage…” Lenore didn’t finish. She had spotted something else and was taking Anne in that direction.

  “This bonnet! The color is perfect for you. Why don’t you try it on? There’s a glass right here.”

  Once again Lenore was off to see something else, the clerk chasing after her. Anne stepped up to the counter and began to place the bonnet on her head. She had just settled it when she caught her husband’s reflection behind her. Anne turned as he approached.

  “What do you think?”

  Weston reached up to tie the ribbons under her chin. He then took hold of the brim and adjusted it slightly. Studying his work, he smiled.

  “Very nice.”

  “Your mother liked the color.”

  “As do I.”

  Anne looked into his eyes and wondered if they were still talking about the bonnet. She might have questioned him, but Lenore was returning.

  “Anne, there’s a blue spencer jacket over here that matches that hat. Do try it on. Robert,” she said, turning next to him, “there’s a Polish beaver top hat over here in your size. Is yours in good condition? They also have Hessian boots that I want you to try on.”

  Husband and wife trailed after Lenore, both wanting to laugh.

  “She’s a bit scattered when she shops,” Weston told Anne. “It’s the only time I see her this way.”

>   “I must admit I’m surprised. She’s so relaxed at home, but since we left Berwick, she’s been on a mission.”

  The spencer jacket, a very short and fitted article of clothing with long sleeves, was a perfect fit. It did look very good with the bonnet, and Anne found herself smiling in pleasure. Lenore saw it and was all the more determined to find all she could.

  Weston, who had gained plenty of items for his own wardrobe, begged his mother to cease some five hours later, proclaiming that they all needed tea. Such proprieties never occurred to Lenore when she shopped, but Weston was adamant. Wringing from them a commitment to shop at least one other day before they left, Lenore acquiesced.

  To Weston and Anne’s relief, they found a shop and were settled down for tea not 20 minutes later.

  Berwick

  “We’d best turn in early,” Lenore said when dinner was over that night and the three had enjoyed coffee and dessert in the drawing room. “Mrs Martin will be here at 9:00, and that will make for a long day.”

  Weston had remembered to tell Anne who Mrs Martin was, so this was not a complete surprise. What was unexpected was Weston’s question to Anne as they climbed the stairs to seek their rest.

  “Have you ever been in love, Anne?”

  That lady continued to walk beside the man she married, but she turned her head to look at him.

  “Do you mean romantic love?”

  “Yes, exactly.”

  “No, I can’t say that I have. I do remember having something of a schoolgirl crush on a boy when I was quite young, but that hardly constitutes love.”

  They had reached Anne’s room now, and Weston, knowing he had passage to his own room, followed her inside.

  “Why did you ask?” Anne wished to know.

  “Francis Cavendish seemed quite taken with you. Did you even notice?”

  Anne took a moment to catch up.

  “Do you mean Louisa’s brother-in-law?”

  “Yes.”

  “Am I mistaken in thinking he’s a good deal older than I am?”

  “No, you’re quite right, but that didn’t seem to put him off.”

  “I’m also a married woman,” Anne pointed out.

  “Nevertheless, he was quite distracted by you.”

  Anne was utterly quiet for several moments, trying to take it in. With an effort she kept her voice calm as she spoke.

  “I’m very tired right now. If I don’t get some rest I’m going to overreact to this news, but in the morning I will expect you to tell me why you’ve shared this. What possible reason could you have?”

  Weston began to open his mouth, but Anne put her hand up.

  “In the morning.”

  “You’re angry with me.”

  “A little, yes.”

  “I’m sorry. I should have waited until morning to ask you.”

  Anne felt terribly confused but forced herself to keep quiet beyond, “Thank you, Mr Weston. I look forward to our talking about this.”

  They parted company, both completely forgetting that Mrs Martin was coming rather early. It did not escape his attention that Anne had once again referred to him as Mr Weston. It would be hours before they could have their talk, and it would look nothing like what either of them had planned.

  The Manse

  “How is the Colonel?” Judith asked the moment her husband entered.

  “He’s better. He has a good-sized bump on his head, but he’s resting comfortably.”

  “Will you contact Anne?”

  “Not now. They’ll be home in about ten days, and her father did rouse quickly.”

  “How do you think he fell?”

  The pastor shrugged. “A touch of apoplexy, a sudden pain—I don’t know. Maybe he only stumbled. His one arm seemed a little stiff, but he was very steady when I was just there. Of course, that doesn’t mean he’s steady all the time.”

  “What if something happens to him before Anne returns?”

  “There’s nothing to be done about that, Judith. He’s not going to live forever, and it’s doubtful Anne could do anything even if she lived there.”

  “Much as I hate to admit it, you’re probably right. Anne has always been able to see to all his needs, and it’s hard to have her gone. I’ve prayed for both of them since you found the Colonel last night.”

  “I’ve prayed as well,” Pastor Hurst said confidently. “And we can keep on praying, knowing God’s hand is at work even as we speak.”

  Berwick

  “What do you think of this muslin, Anne?”

  “It’s very pretty. Do you like it?”

  “Yes, it’s perfect for day dresses.”

  Bolts of cloth nearly covered the large salon downstairs. Anne had been measured and now fabrics and patterns were being chosen. Weston had gone to the tailor, and Lenore was in her element dressing Anne with Mrs Martin’s help.

  Day gowns were chosen, evening gowns, dresses for warm weather and cold, undergarments—more than Anne thought she could use in a year—and Lenore was even heard to mutter about a trip to the cobbler.

  A redingote was put on order in a dark shade of blue. The long coat had multiple capelets and was lined in silk. Lenore insisted that Anne have two matching hats for that item, as well as a fox muff. A pelisse—walking coat—was also chosen, this one in a rich brown.

  “Have I overwhelmed you?” Lenore came close and whispered at one point, her eyes a little large with excitement.

  “Would it do any good to say yes?”

  Lenore smiled.

  “Have I told you how very glad I am that Robert brought you home?”

  Anne hugged the older woman, who warmly returned the embrace. It didn’t last long, however. Mrs Martin had more fabric to show them, and she did not like to be kept waiting.

  And on it went. For hours they matched patterns, fabric, and trim. When it looked as though she was no longer needed, Anne slipped into one of the smaller salons and lay down on the settee. Weston found her sound asleep an hour later. He gave orders to the staff to let her rest and went in search of his mother.

  Chapter Seventeen

  London

  “Is it true?”

  “Yes. He was seen shopping just today.”

  “Here, in London? You’re certain?”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “Did he bring his wife?”

  “A young woman is with him, yes.”

  Quiet filled the elegant room. The servant who had delivered the news hovered nearby, waiting for further orders. They weren’t long in coming.

  “Tell Cook I want dinner early.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “And then I’ll need the carriage. I’m going out.”

  Berwick

  Anne felt like a new person after her nap, but her dress was another matter. The frock was a mass of wrinkles, and her hair was coming down around her face. Thankfully she woke to find herself alone, and with a bit of maneuvering she managed to gain her room without encountering anyone.

  Jenny was on hand to choose another dress and set her hair to rights. Weston had just found her missing from the salon and was knocking on her door as Jenny made the finishing touches.

  “I thought we’d lost you,” he said when she beckoned him to enter.

  “I snuck up the back way.”

  “For any particular reason?”

  Anne thanked Jenny and turned from the mirror.

  “How do I look?”

  “You look lovely.”

  “You wouldn’t have said that 30 minutes ago.”

  “I’m not so certain of that,” Weston said as he offered his arm. “Dinner is nearly on. Hungry?”

  “Very. I slept through tea.”

  “Mother’s fault, I’m afraid. When it comes to shopping, she’s unpredictable at best.”

  “How did you fare at the tailor?”

  “Very well. I trust I’ll look suitable beside my newly decked-out bride.”

  “I think that must be the least of your worri
es.”

  Weston studied her without being obvious, noting that she was very rested and relaxed just now. He had certainly blundered through things the night before and looked forward to setting the record straight later that evening.

  And it looked as though he would have his chance. Dinner was an unpretentious affair, full of talk and laughter, mostly at Lenore’s expense, but then the newlyweds were to be left on their own. Lenore had been invited to Louisa’s for cards.

  “Do you go directly after dinner, Mother, or is it later?”

  “Not directly, but soon after.”

  They were more than halfway through their meal when Betsy entered unexpectedly. She went to Lenore and bent slightly to speak to her.

  “Mrs Rooke is here to see you.”

  Lenore stared up at her. Weston and Anne had heard and turned to look at the servant as well.

  “Henrietta’s mother?”

  “Yes. She wishes to see you and Mr Weston and to meet young Mrs Weston.”

  Lenore took a moment to respond, and when she did she had a plan.

  “Tell Mrs Rooke we will be a few minutes and make her comfortable in the salon. Then send word to Mrs Cavendish that I might be delayed and not to hesitate to begin in my absence.”

  “Very well, my lady.”

  Anne watched in surprise as Lenore went back to her meal. She took a small bite of food and a sip of water from her glass before she found Anne staring at her.

  “Do try to finish, Anne. I have no idea what the evening will bring, but we may need our strength.” Lenore looked to Weston. “Anne does know about Henrietta, doesn’t she, Robert?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you worried about her mother being here?”

  “No, Mother, there was never any ill will between us, but I am most curious over her visiting this way.”

  Lenore put her fork down.

  “I am too, and I’m doing little more than pushing my food around. Shall we just go now?”

  Weston looked to Anne in question.

  “Certainly,” she said, trying to keep the sudden pounding of her heart at bay.

  Led by Lenore, the threesome entered the salon just moments later. Mrs Rooke stood, all smiles, to greet them.