Change of Heart

by Margaret Eastvale

  After all the upheaval of the past few days this was too much for Anne to endure.

  ‘So you decided that I would be the next best thing?’ she demanded with bleak sarcasm.

  ‘Not like that at all,’ he muttered uncomfortably. ‘Very fond of you too, though not the same way as Julia. She’s—well—special!’ Recovering a little, he went on in an aggrieved tone, ‘I thought you’d understand. You said when you agreed to marry me that you weren’t in love with me. I thought you’d sympathise, not get in a miff about it.’

  ‘Of course I understand,’ Anne replied quickly but she could not disguise the hurt at this fresh blow to her pride. Bitterly she reflected that she ought to have guessed that Julia had his preference, but foolishly she had not even suspected it, although his reaction after Julia was widowed should have warned her. The greatest part of James’s appeal had lain in the fact that he was one of the few men who had appeared to prefer her to Julia. Where other suitors had neglected her to flirt with her married sister, James had concentrated on trying to please Anne. She had never realised that he was wooing her as a substitute—a pale imitation of the unattainable Julia. It was a shattering blow to her self-esteem.

  Anne had not taken his suit seriously at first. It was only in the period of grief after her father’s death that she had succumbed to the temptation of letting someone else deal with her problems. James had been a friend for years and in those first unhappy weeks he had to some extent filled her father’s empty place. She enjoyed his friendship and was flattered by what she had supposed was his genuine affection and admiration. Although she knew that she could never experience the same poignant emotion for him that she had once felt for Edmund, she had despaired of ever finding anyone else who would rouse such a passion in her. When she decided that she must marry or degenerate into a lonely old maid like Aunt Mattie, then James had seemed the obvious choice. Though not in love with him, she had had a warm affection for him and had supposed that he loved her.

  It was a shock to discover that his love for Julia had always been stronger than any feeling for herself. No wonder he had agreed so readily to the postponement of their marriage after Thomas died. Was he still, despite his protests, hopeful of winning Julia, sorry that he had been so foolish as to offer for Anne instead just before Julia became free?

  ‘If you wish to marry my sister, please don’t allow our engagement stand in the way,’ she told him stiffly. ‘I am perfectly willing to release you from your promise whenever you wish.’

  James shook his head.

  ‘No point. She’d never have me. Too good for an ordinary chap like me.’

  Anne clenched her fists to bottle in the anger that shook her at his matter-of-fact tone, bitterly resentful of his airy assumption that she was eager to take up her sister’s leavings.

  She was strongly tempted to throw his ring back in his face and storm away.

  She managed to restrain herself, but only the realisation that everyone would suppose her decision had been prompted by Edmund’s return, stopped her from ending the engagement immediately. Julia did not believe that her childhood passion for Edmund was over and done with now; that for Anne his coming had only spoiled a memory not kindled new hopes. If she broke her engagement as soon as he came home that would convince Julia that her suspicions were justified. She would never accept that the link between the two events was so slight.

  Anne could imagine the derisive laugh with which she would share the jest with Edmund, and flinched at the thought. She would do nothing to court their mockery once more. There could be no harm in keeping up the engagement a little longer to salve her pride.

  While she was still hesitating, a dramatic voice from the doorway thrilled, ‘James! It is you! I could not credit it. How wonderful to see you, my dear. Edmund, you remember Sir James Shrivenham, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course. I am pleased to see you once more, Sir James.’ The baronet barely acknowledged his greeting with a stiff nod before turning to grasp Julia’s hands in his.

  ‘My poor Julia! I had to come immediately I heard the news. What a terrible shock for you this must have been.’

  ‘Dear James, you are too kind!’ Julia pressed his hands affectionately.

  Anne’s nails dug into her palms in fury as she watched him wriggle like an overweight puppy basking in its mistress’s approval. She wondered how she had ever been so blind as not to guess at his true feeling for Julia. Had his adoration always been this obvious? Sensing Edmund’s astonished recognition of it, she was doubly resentful.

  ‘How fortunate Anne will be to have so thoughtful a husband. We are not all so lucky,’

  Julia sighed. ‘Have you come to help us over this difficult time, James?’

  ‘I will do anything I can, my dear,’ he beamed fatuously. ‘Could you doubt it?’

  ‘So generous of you! But why aren’t they bringing in your things?’ demanded Julia. ‘Surely you mean to stay after travelling so far? Or did you set out so quickly that you had no time to pack anything?’

  ‘Gracious, no!’ James looked horrified at the idea. ‘It is just that Anne had the notion it was not the thing as matters stand…’

  ‘I have been telling him that with things so altered here he must put up at the inn if he means to remain,’ Anne explained.

  ‘There is no need for that,’ put in Edmund. ‘I appreciate that I have taken the room you had ready for Sir James, but surely there are plenty of others. I feel sure that one can be, made up for him without any difficulty.’

  A very kind,’ James glanced triumphantly at Anne.

  There was little she wanted less than to have James under the same roof at this time but there was no way she could refuse without downright rudeness. ‘Very well. I will go and see that everything is made ready…’

  ‘Let Norwich arrange all that,’ Julia interrupted. ‘That is what she is paid for. Dinner was ready ten minutes ago. You don’t want to change or anything, do you, James?’ As he hesitated she added plaintively, ‘It is dreadfully late already and I am famished.’

  ‘In that case,’ James hurried to placate her, ‘I will sit down to it as I am—if you are sure you have no objection to my appearing in all my dirt.’ He looked anxiously down at his spotless travelling clothes, clearly torn between his desire to please her and his private conviction that it was quite unacceptable to dine in such a garb.

  ‘We don’t mind, not in the slightest! Now come straight into the dining-room and tell us all the news from town. I get only snippets in the few letters that arrive to relieve the tedium here. Confess that you have been horribly remiss in that respect yourself. You have forgotten all about us poor exiles.’

  ‘Never! But I was always a poor hand with a pen.’

  ‘Excuses! Still I suppose we must forgive you this time. But don’t keep us in suspense any longer. Tell me everything! What is this tale of a marvellous new actor at Drury Lane? Fanny was in raptures over him in her last letter. Have you seen him yet?’

  ‘Kean? Only once. I thought him very overrated. A miserable little fellow,’ the plump James dismissed him contemptuously. Edmund glanced laughingly at Anne to share the jest, and despite her indignation she had to smile back.

  Julia, totally oblivious of anything amusing in James’s attitude, went on eagerly, ‘And is it true that the waltz is danced everywhere now?’

  ‘Not quite everywhere, but only the most prim frown on it. I heard a whisper that even the Patronesses at Almack’s may soon relent and you know how strait-laced they are!’

  ‘Oh quite Gothic, poor creatures! But don’t say I told you so—one has to keep in their good books. Their assemblies may be sadly dismal affairs, but one has to attend to be in the swim.

  Still, the waltz should liven them up considerably. How I long to try it myself! Anne and I have practised, of course, but never in public, and to dance with a gentleman must be vastly different. You must try the steps with me after dinner, James. Anne will play for us. But come along! Dinne
r is spoiling while we stand gossiping.’

  She led him off chattering with more animation than Anne had seen her display for months.

  Edmund followed, forgotten for the moment.

  Anne stopped in the hall to give detailed instructions to the anxiously hovering housekeeper. It was all very fine for Julia to talk airily of leaving everything in Norwich’s hands, but even the best of servants needed some guidance and Julia’s household was far from the best. Since Anne had taken over the reins things had improved greatly, but the staff were still far from able to cope unaided.

  ‘The Blue Room, miss? Very well. I’ll get the fire lit at once, so it’ll be cosy for the gentleman when he goes up.’ Norwich hesitated a moment then went on in a rush, ‘There’s that Mr. Weston out in the back, miss. Says he must see her ladyship. I tried to tell her about it just now, but she wouldn’t listen to me.’

  ‘Then Weston must do without seeing her. Tell him to come back tomorrow.’

  ‘He won’t like that, miss. Very nasty he can be when he’s crossed. Couldn’t you ask her ladyship?’

  ‘Certainly not!’ Anne retorted sharply. ‘You may tell Weston that Lady Ashorne is far too busy with her guests to deal with business matters tonight. Whatever it is must wait till tomorrow.’

  Norwich hurried away, clearly unhappy with the message. Anne walked crossly upstairs to check that everything in the room was satisfactory, thinking that it was typical of Weston’s insolence that he should expect Julia’s attention whenever he desired it. What impudence to send his demands by the servants! Well, for once he would be disappointed.

  The others were on the second course when she joined them in the dining-room.

  ‘There you are at last, Anne! I thought you’d never come,’ exclaimed her sister. ‘We knew you wouldn’t want us to wait for you. James was ravenous after his long journey, poor lamb, and I couldn’t let him starve. I’m so grateful to him for bringing me all the latest news. Just fancy! He tells me that it is rumoured we shall be able to visit France again within a few weeks! Isn’t that marvellous! To think of being able to buy really modish clothes again at last. The English have no flair for fashion. I’ve hated the dowdy gowns I’ve had to put up with for years.’ She put up an imperious hand as James began an anxious denial. ‘There’s no point in trying to be polite, James. I know how inferior they are to the French styles. What bliss it will be to shop there again! Don’t you yearn to be in Paris, once more, Anne?’

  ‘You forget that I have never been there,’ Anne responded flatly. ‘I was too young to come when you went with Papa.’

  ‘Of course you were. How silly of me to forget! I was a mere babe myself then but I remember how marvellous it all was—how romantic all those Frenchmen were, and so charming to me!’

  ‘How could they help but be enchanted by you? You must outshine all their belles, however fashionably clad.’ James raised his glass in ponderous tribute to her.

  Julia clapped her hands in delight. ‘See! Even the thought of Paris is making James gallant!

  What about you, Edmund? Aren’t you wild to visit La Belle France once more?’

  ‘Not in the least. I have had enough of the French in the past six years to last me a lifetime.’

  ‘Don’t be such an old sobersides!’ Julia laughed disbelievingly. ‘Things will be quite different in peacetime. You cannot blame the ordinary French people for what that monster Napoleon made them do. James is more forgiving, aren’t you, James? He’ll be off across the Channel as soon as may be. Just think, James; you can take Anne on a tour of Europe for her honeymoon, now. Oh, how I envy you!’

  ‘I am sure that your sister would be delighted to have your company if we decide to do so,’

  suggested James with as little accuracy as tact. Anne quivered with fury as Julia clasped her hands together rapturously.

  ‘If only I could! But no, I must not be tempted. You will want no unwelcome third at such a time.’

  ‘Nonsense! It is an excellent notion. Anne will be overjoyed to have a companion,’ James assured her, oblivious of Anne’s frown.

  It galled Anne most to see Edmund’s startled reaction to the fervent offer. Before she could utter the angry retort that trembled on her tongue, a servant interrupted them, bringing a note for Julia. She unfolded it, read it through, then crumpled it crossly in her hand, her face flushed with fury.

  Though she recovered quickly and returned to her spirited exchange with James and Edmund, her gaiety seemed a little strained. When, at last, the ladies withdrew to the drawing room Anne tackled her.

  ‘Is anything wrong, Julia? That note was from Weston, wasn’t it? I wonder he had the impudence to bother you. Norwich said that he wished to speak to you, but I told her to send him away.’

  ‘You had no right to do so. The matter might have been urgent.’

  ‘I presumed that you were too engrossed with your guests to trouble with him tonight. What crisis has arisen so vital that it cannot wait till morning? Anyhow, if it is to do with the estate it is Edmund’s affair now, not yours.’

  ‘Phillip does not wish to consult me on estate business—just a private matter.’

  ‘But one which has upset you. Don’t let him browbeat you, Julia.’

  ‘He doesn’t. I’ve told you before that I know how to deal with Phillip Weston.’

  ‘It hardly appears that way to me. The man presumes too much on your friendship. Let Edmund deal with him for you. He will stand no nonsense.’

  ‘Don’t fuss so!’ Julia burst out. ‘You have no call to interfere in my affairs.’

  Sitting at the piano she crashed out a tune, playing so loudly that it was impossible for her sister to say any more. Anne watched her uneasily, all her doubts returning. Recalling that overheard conversation, she wondered what the secrets could be which Weston had threatened to reveal. Were they really important enough to give him a hold over Julia, or had anger made him bluster?

  Clearly something was upsetting Julia, but it was useless to try and force a confidence.

  Opposition only made Julia more obstinate. She would have to wait until Julia was ready to confide in her, and hope that matters had not gone beyond aid by then.

  Ignoring her sister, Julia went on playin g fortissimo until the gentlemen joined them. Then she switched to a softer melody and set out to be charming once more. Clearly aware of the attractive picture she presented in another of the new gowns—a soft lavender this time, cut very low, with a heart-shaped locket accentuating rather than filling the bare expanse—she turned and patted the stool beside her invitingly.

  ‘Come and sit here, Edmund. I’ve been looking through all my old music. Do you remember this song we used to sing together?’

  Carefully placed candles shone on her fair curls, lending them a golden gleam. As she began softly to play, Edmund took his place beside her smiling reminiscently.

  ‘How could I forget it? You made me sing it that last evening before I left.’

  ‘Sing it again now,’ she urged.

  His protests were soon overcome. Their voices blended harmoniously, Julia smiling happily into Edmund’s eyes as they sang the sentimental words. His face was less revealing, but with a pang of envy Anne thought she could see affection in the gaze fixed upon her sister’s exquisite face.

  James hovered jealously beside them. Face flushed with the wine he had drunk so avidly throughout the meal, he glowered impotently at his rival. He might claim to have given up any hope of winning Julia, thought Anne, but clearly he did not want to see her find happiness with anyone else. She watched his dog-in-the-manger scowl grow blacker from her corner, forgotten by them all.

  If she had not been so closely involved it might have been amusing to see them act so foolishly, but the scene brought back unhappy memories of the past when she had nursed an envy as unwarranted as that now displayed by James. She writhed inwardly at the realisation that her doting passion for Edmund must have made her behave as foolishly as he was doing now. No wo
nder Edmund and Julia had laughed at her. Her face suffused with shame at the memory. Long finished that childish infatuation might be, but it still hurt to remember it—just as it hurt to see them together again. The heat of the great fire stifled her, and quietly she rose and slipped out into the hall. Her dog padded beside her as she fetched a shawl and let herself out into the moonlit garden. None of the others even noticed her departure, she realised with aching heart.

  The cool air revived her but could not calm her agitated thoughts. Everything had gone wrong since the moment she had brought Julia that wretched letter! The carefully arranged, passionless future she had planned for herself was shattered. Her relationship with her sister had sadly altered, and that with James had been strained almost beyond repair.

  Bess’s greying muzzle pushed into her hand as if she sensed her mistress’s grief. Even the dog was a reminder of Edmund—his last gift before he left. Passionately Anne wished that Edmund had never returned to confuse all their lives. Yet no sooner was the thought formed than she dismissed it. That was to wish Edmund dead, and she could not bear that. To have him returned safely to them was more than she had ever hoped. She could not wish it undone.

  It was only seeing him fall back under Julia’s spell that was so disturbing. If her sister really loved him she could learn to bear it but she knew her to be motivated by self-interest alone. Still she must live with the situation.

  Eyes misted with unshed tears, she stared blindly out across the lake. By her Bess stirred, ears pricked, as heavy footsteps came up behind them. The creak of his corset betrayed James even before she could pick out his form from the shadows.

  ‘What are you doing out here?’ Anne demanded ungraciously, resentful at having her solitude invaded. ‘I thought you were inside with the others, enjoying the music.’

  ‘I was—at least Julia’s part in it—until she decided that she was too worn out for any more tonight. This has all been too much for her. She said she was going to retire early and sent me out with Ashorne. Seemed to fancy that I was as anxious as he was to smoke one of those revolting cigars. Filthy habit! I don’t blame poor Julia for not wanting her rooms reeking of tobacco fumes.’