Miss Tibbles Interferes

by April Kihlstrom

  “Oh. I see. Yes, of course I shan’t be taken in,” Miss Hawthorne replied.

  Her voice sounded a little odd to William, but he had no time to ponder the matter, for the carriage was drawing to a halt in front of his mother’s town house. For all his brave words, when he saw the way his mother looked at Miss Hawthorne, Captain Stanfield felt a premonition of disaster. It was a premonition that only grew stronger when William realized his two married sisters were waiting in the drawing room to greet Miss Hawthorne as well.

  17

  “Come in and sit down, my dear,” Lady Chadbourne said as she led Ariel into the drawing room.

  “Thank you, Lady Chadbourne.”

  “Have you met my daughters? They are Lady Garrick and Lady Toland.”

  Two ladies who bore a distinct resemblance to both their mother and Captain Stanfield, greeted Ariel with avid interest. Indeed, she had to fight the impulse to turn and flee the room. She looked to Stanfield for support, and he smiled weakly, as though sympathizing with her sense of feeling overwhelmed. Unaccountably, that was enough to raise her spirits sufficiently so that she could greet the ladies with at least a semblance of equanimity.

  She smiled. At least she thought she smiled. Certainly she managed to say something that sounded proper because Stanfield’s sisters also began to smile. Then they turned to their brother and invited him to sit down next to Ariel.

  For a moment, she thought she saw a hint of panic in his eyes, and felt a corresponding panic in her own breast. But then he bowed and came forward and sat carelessly on the sofa beside her, as though it mattered not one whit to him what his mother or his sisters thought.

  To Ariel’s surprise, they stared at Captain Stanfield’s injured arm and seemed to share some private jest.

  “You are wearing the sling,” Lady Garrick said to him.

  “The one we embroidered for you,” Lady Toland added.

  “Yes.”

  One word, spoken as though Captain Stanfield was holding on to his temper only with great effort.

  Lady Garrick turned to Ariel. “You must understand, Miss Hawthorne,” she said. “There was a time when he threatened to bum the thing.”

  “He swore he would never forgive us for choosing flowers,” Lady Toland told her with a grin.

  Apparently Ariel’s bewilderment showed upon her face, for Lady Chadbourne took pity on her and explained. “When William first came back to us, after he was injured, he seemed to care about nothing and no one. No matter what we said or did, he simply lay there, convinced he would never recover and his future was pointless.”

  “So they embroidered flowers on my sling,” Captain Stanfield said. He smiled as he remembered. “They embroidered the flowers all over my sling. They wished, you see, to provoke me into a rage.”

  Both his sisters laughed, completely unabashed. “And it worked,” Lady Garrick told Ariel.

  “It was the most beautiful rage you ever saw,” Lady Toland said with a smile.

  “And it pulled him out of his decline,” Lady Chadbourne concluded.

  “So it did,” Captain Stanfield agreed. “And that is why I kept it.”

  “A good thing, too,” his mother said tartly, “given how often you seem to injure yourself all over again.”

  Captain Stanfield stopped smiling. “We are boring Miss Hawthorne with our family stories,” he said through gritted teeth.

  That turned their attention back to Ariel. The three ladies smiled at her again, and she felt much like she supposed a fox must feel to discover itself being hunted by hounds. She tried to smile back.

  “Do you do embroidery, Miss Hawthorne?” Lady Garrick asked.

  This was safe ground, Ariel thought with relief. She pulled a handkerchief out of her reticule. “I embroider this flower on all my handkerchiefs,” she replied.

  “Why, how unusual,” Lady Chadbourne said. “I have never seen such an unique flower.”

  “It is one I saw on my travels with my father,” Ariel explained.

  “Well, I think it is delightful,” Lady Garrick pronounced approvingly.

  “Perhaps you can teach us how to do it,” Lady Toland suggested.

  This, however, was too much for Captain Stanfield. “You presume too much upon my very slight acquaintance with Miss Hawthorne,” he told his sisters, all but growling.

  They all but purred in reply. Particularly Lady Garrick, who leaned forward and said to Ariel, “We would very much like to hear about your very slight acquaintance with our brother.”

  “Yes,” Lady Toland added. “For example, how did you meet?”

  “I worked with my father for many years at the museum. Captain Stanfield was helping him to catalog some artifacts from the war, so of course we met,” Ariel answered, careful not to explain anything further about their acquaintance.

  The ladies took pity on Ariel and forbore, at least for the moment, to press the issue any further. Instead, Lady Toland asked, without once pausing to take a breath, “In what way did you help your father and may I say how sorry we are for your loss?”

  “I took notes for him on the artifacts that he and Captain Stanfield and Colonel Merriweather were sorting out,” Ariel explained. “I’ve often done so in the past. And I used to help my father arrange such objects for display,” Ariel answered, aware that something about her answer did not entirely please the other ladies.

  “But now that your father is dead, you will cease working at the museum, surely?” Lady Chadbourne asked, a hint of doubt in her voice.

  “I suppose I shall have to do so,” Ariel answered honestly. “Though I wish it could be otherwise. I love working at the museum.”

  “But don’t you wish to be going to balls instead? Paying calls upon friends? Driving in the park in the afternoon?” Lady Toland asked with a worried frown.

  “No.”

  “Not at all?” Lady Garrick persisted.

  Ariel hesitated. For the briefest of moments she let herself imagine what it might have been like if her life had been full of balls and drives in the park and afternoons with friends. And there was no denying there was a tug on her heartstrings that she had never known such a life.

  But give up her beloved museum? Allow such pursuits to replace the intense satisfaction of discussing with her father this artifact or that one? Forget hours happily spent poring over books and letters and old records to track down the provenance of something sent as a present to the museum? No, nothing these ladies spoke of could possible prove as satisfying as the work she had shared with her father.

  Ariel said so aloud, knowing she was sinking herself beneath reproach by doing so. To her surprise, Lady Chadbourne, Stanfield’s mother, came to her rescue.

  “Do you know, your father was just such a person,” Lady Chadbourne said to Stanfield. “He, too, preferred his books to parties and such. The only reason I could get him to come to London was that the museum was here. And so were the talks given by the various learned societies to which he belonged.”

  She paused and turned back to Ariel. “Yes, Miss Hawthorne, I can understand why you would be loath to give up such pursuits,” she said. “But couldn’t you do the intellectual work you clearly love and still find time to attend some balls and parties and visit friends? Not at once, of course, for I do see that it would not be proper while you are in mourning for your father! But later, perhaps, you might find that such things were not entirely anathema to you?”

  It was said coaxingly, and Ariel found she was not proof against Lady Chadbourne’s charm. “P-perhaps I might,” she agreed.

  “There. You see? We have something in common, after all,” Lady Chadbourne said with approval.

  “Mother!”

  She turned to look at her son. “What is it, dear? I thought you would be happy that your sisters and I like Miss Hawthorne.”

  “I am,” he said through what sounded like clenched teeth. “But I fear you are making her uncomfortable.”

  “Nonsense,” Lady Chadbourne retorte
d. She turned to Ariel. “We are not making you uncomfortable, are we?”

  She ought to have said that of course they were not. She knew that was what she ought to say. But Ariel didn’t. Instead she once more chose honesty.

  “I must confess,” Ariel said, directing a level gaze upon her hostess, “that I do not quite understand why you invited me here. To inspect me, I presume, but I do not entirely understand why.”

  Well, that was plain speaking! Beside her, Ariel could feel Stanfield stiffen. Was he distressed with her? All at once she wished the words could be taken back. But then she realized he was laughing.

  “There, Mama! She has put paid to your discreet attempts to interrogate her. Well, what are you going to tell her? Why are you so determined to discover everything you can about Miss Hawthorne?” Stanfield asked, sounding far more cheerful than Ariel would have expected.

  As Lady Chadbourne bristled, his sister, Lady Garrick, laughed nervously and said, “Really, William, you are embarrassing Miss Hawthorne!”

  He looked at her and said in a cool voice, “I thought that was what all of you were doing. Come. Let us have the gloves off. Miss Hawthorne and I have worked together at the museum. I am fond of her company. More than that, I suggest you not imagine. For until there is an announcement, any such thinking would be premature.”

  His other sister, Lady Toland pounced. “Until? So there will be an announcement?” she demanded. Stanfield sighed. “I did not say so.”

  His mother leaned forward and patted his hand. It was Ariel, however, to whom she said, “I trust you will forgive us, my dear, for our presumption. It is just that we have never seen William show so much interest in any young lady. And we wish very much for him to be happy. Should your, er, friendship lead to anything more, we would be delighted. If not, well, we have made the acquaintance of a very interesting young woman. I hope you are equally happy to meet us?”

  “O-of course, Lady Chadbourne,” Ariel replied in a somewhat dazed voice.

  “Mama, you are raising expectations!” Stanfield said sternly. “It is most improper of you.”

  Lady Chadbourne looked at him blandly. “Well, but it is your responsibility to make certain that Miss Hawthorne understands clearly how matters stand. If you had not given us cause to make such an assumption, I assure you, William, that we would not have done so.” Stanfield snorted his disbelief. But his mother merely turned to Ariel and began to talk with her about the work she had done with her father, and by degrees Ariel found herself feeling at ease with Stanfield’s family, for as she discovered, their fashionable gowns and elegantly arranged hairstyles hid lively minds that showed an interest far beyond that found among most women of the ton. Or perhaps it was only her prejudice that made Ariel think these ladies so unusual. When she stopped to consider the matter, she had to admit that she had insufficient experience to know. It was, she discovered, an interesting realization.

  Indeed, when it came time to take her leave of the ladies of Stanfield’s family, Ariel found herself oddly reluctant to do so. And when they promised to call upon her soon, she found herself actually looking forward to such a thing.

  Outside, Stanfield let out a deep breath and apologized yet again. “I am very sorry. I ought to have known, indeed, I did know how outrageous my mother and sisters could and were likely to be. Perhaps I should have warned you. I hope they did not make you too uncomfortable?”

  He sounded almost anxious to hear her answer, and Ariel laughed. “To the contrary,” she said. “I have always wondered what it would be like to have my mama still alive. And what it would be like to have had sisters. Now I have some sense of the matter. I’ve no doubt sisters would have rubbed me the wrong way a hundred times a day, and yet, at the same time, I find myself wishing I had some.”

  Stanfield smiled. “Yes, you’ve hit it off just so. I adore my sisters, and yet I should be glad to strangle them at least once every time we are together. Their tendency to matchmake is the worst of it.”

  “They are only concerned for your happiness,” Ariel said shyly. “I am flattered to think that perhaps they would be happy if you took that sort of interest in me— even if it is nonsense.”

  Stanfield paused to hand her into the carriage, and he was silent as he climbed in after. Only when they were moving did he speak, and his voice was a trifle husky as he said, “Is it such an absurd notion? That I might take an interest in you? Or you in me?”

  Did he mean what he seemed to be saying? But what about his words on the way to Lady Chadbourne’s house? The ones where he said he knew he could count on her common sense to keep her from being taken in by his mother’s schemes? Did he, perhaps, not even know his own mind? Captain Stanfield was waiting for her answer and somehow she had to manage some sort of reply. She took a deep breath.

  “N-no,” Ariel admitted, her own voice a trifle shaky. “It is n-not an entirely absurd notion, I suppose.”

  He took her hand then and raised it to his lips, where he kissed her at the wrist. “Well, I do not think it absurd at all,” Stanfield told her.

  Then, giving her time to draw back if she wished, he touched the side of her cheek and then cupped her chin with his hand, drawing her face closer to his.

  She ought to draw back, Ariel told herself. But she could not. Instead, all she could do was watch with fascination as his head descended toward hers. And when he kissed her, she let out a tiny sigh at the realization of how long she had dreamed of such a moment.

  It was a gentle kiss, so soft she might almost have imagined it. But the second kiss was no fantasy. Nor was it nearly so gentle. Instead it seemed almost to be a way of claiming her, of making certain she would not soon forget the feel of his lips upon hers, or the taste of him either.

  Somehow her arms seemed to wind themselves about his neck just as his good arm pulled her up against him. Every moment seemed more improper than the one before. But heaven help her, Ariel could not protest. Not when her soul cried out for even more.

  All too soon, it seemed, the carriage drew to a halt again. Ariel and Stanfield hastily sprang apart, and she touched her hair to make certain it was not too badly disarranged. He watched as she settled her bonnet once more securely upon her head. And then it was time to climb out of the carriage, pretending to take no more than the most civil of farewells to Captain Stanfield. Did she deceive the footman who opened the carriage door? Or Lady Merriweather’s majordomo when he held the front door of the town house open for her? Ariel did not think so, but her own thoughts were in far too much disarray for her to greatly care.

  What was she to do? Not for the first time, Ariel desperately wished that she still had a mother to turn to for advice. Fortunately Mrs. Merriweather was waiting for her. The older woman took one look at her face and began to shepherd her to a small parlor, rather than the drawing room from which voices floated out to them.

  “You will not wish to encounter company just now,’’ Mrs. Merriweather observed briskly. “Nor will they expect you to do so. Come, we may be perfectly private in here.”

  When Ariel was settled in a chair, Mrs. Merriweather looked at her kindly but merely chose to wait. In the end, it was Ariel who made the decision to confide in her, without the need for any coaching to do so.

  She told the former governess all about the afternoon, even confiding that Stanfield had kissed her in the carriage. Far from being shocked, the older woman nodded approvingly. “So he is discovering that his sentiments march in tune with yours? Excellent!”

  “But Mrs. Merriweather, wasn’t it most improper for Captain Stanfield to kiss me in such a way?” Ariel could not help but protest.

  The older woman smiled. “Well, yes. And ordinarily, if I were your governess, for example, I should be scolding you for allowing such familiarity before an offer had been made. But these are not, I think, ordinary circumstances. Nothing would delight me more than to see you happily settled. But I will admit a kiss promises nothing of the sort. And I should not like to see any man giv
e you a slip upon the shoulder. So you had best not be alone with him again. Nor allow such an embrace again, at least not unless and until he offers for you. But once? Well, under the circumstances I think it a most promising sign.”

  More bewildered than ever, Ariel fled to her room. Had the whole world gone mad? More important, had she?

  18

  Days passed, and Ariel felt a growing frustration. All work on the artifacts had come to a halt by decree of the museum trustees. They did not, they said, wish any more work to be done until a replacement had been found for Mr. Hawthorne. Nothing had been found among her father’s papers to explain why so many people were interested in them. Perhaps, she told herself, they really were simply interested in his research.

  On this particular morning, Ariel stared out the window at the rain. It matched her mood to perfection, and she could not be sorry for the fact that it would keep callers from coming to Lady Merriweather’s house. If she could not go to the museum, at least she was not forced to endure the condolences of people who had never known her father and who would, if given half a chance, tell her that her own pursuits were most improper.

  No, she could not regret anything that kept the gossips of the ton at home. Ariel was tired of being stared at as if she were an exhibit from some show of oddities.

  Mrs. Merriweather’s sympathetic voice came from behind Ariel. “A horrible day, isn’t it?”

  She turned to smile wistfully at the older woman. “One becomes accustomed to such weather. I was just thinking that at least it would keep away callers. And how I could only feel grateful for that.”

  Mrs. Merriweather squeezed Ariel’s shoulder reassuringly. “It has been hard for you, I know. And I can well understand how you feel. I, on the other hand, must deplore such a horrid sight, when I know that I shall be going out in it later.”

  Ariel was too polite to ask where she meant to go, but the colonel’s wife told her anyway. “I have consented to go to a ball this evening with Lady Merriweather. She has brought it to my attention that I risk offending too many important people if I continue to refuse all the invitations that are sent to me. And, in any event, the Duchess of Berenford was once one of my charges. She is Lady Farrington’s sister.”