“Ah yes, my Mama taught me all about men and marriage. But Lord Harry suits me, and I enjoy myself in my beautiful manor. Are you sure that you must leave us so soon, Mrs. Greene?”
Jemma rose from her chair. “Yes, I am afraid that it is unavoidable, your ladyship. As a matter of fact, I must leave you now for an appointment at the bank.”
Lady Hélène rose from her chair as well. “If you must go, then do not stay away too long. I am sure that there are many of us who will hate to see you go, and will miss you very much.”
Jemma extended her hand. “Thank you, Lady Hélène. You are all kindness.”
“You are welcome, Mrs. Greene. Come back and see me on your return. I will want to hear about your business on the continent. I long to know what the future holds for you.”
“I am curious too, your ladyship. I promise to visit again as soon as I return.”
Jemma was much occupied with making arrangements for her departure over the next two days. She dined with the Larke family, and met with Edwards, her warehouse manager, to give him addresses where she could be reached over the next few months. But most of all, she thought of James and how best to leave things with him. She did not want to be cowardly and, in the end, decided to see him in person rather than sending a letter.
Jemma had no alternative but to visit James at his chambers since she did not think it wise to invite him to her home. She was ushered into his office without an appointment, and closed the door before taking a chair beside his desk.
“Jemma, you have come at last. I was beginning to wonder if you were avoiding me,” James said with a happy smile as he rose from his chair. His pleasure in seeing her faded, however, as he noted the strained expression upon her face. Jemma’s courage momentarily faltered as she saw his disappointment, but she stiffened her resolve.
“No, James, I have not been avoiding you, I have just been very busy the last few days. I am sorry, but nothing has changed since we spoke last Sunday. I cannot marry you under these circumstances. I am very fond of you, James, but it is not enough. I know that you will fall deeply in love with a woman someday, and when you do, you will thank me that you are not encumbered with a loveless marriage. Having made my decision, I thought it best to hasten my departure for France, so I will be leaving on Saturday. I think it will be less awkward for both of us if we do not see each other for a few months.”
James sat quietly listening to her, but when she told him that she meant to leave on Saturday, he looked so angry that Jemma did not know how to continue. He gathered himself, however, and a mask of cool detachment settled over his features.
“I see. Where might I write to you if any urgent business arises?”
“That is all taken care of, James. I have left instructions with Edwards.”
James gazed down at his desk top and was silent. Jemma watched him with a feeling of dread, wondering if he would tell her that they could no longer be friends, that there was no point in her coming back as far as he was concerned.
Finally, he rose from his chair. “I wish you the best of luck in your travels, Jemma. I hope that you accomplish all that you wish on the continent. Do not worry about matters back home. I am sure that Edwards will contact me should any unforeseen problems arise.” He proffered his hand to her.
Jemma rose, grasped his hand, and said, “Thank you, James. For all of your efforts on my behalf, and for your kindness. I hope that you will believe that my decision is for the best – for both of us.”
James opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it. Releasing her hand, he clasped his own behind him.
“Goodbye, James. Take good care of yourself,” she said before hurrying out of the room. Her visit had lasted only a few minutes. James remained closeted in his office for the remainder of the day and did not go home until quite late that evening.
Chapter Twenty – A Revelation
James did not accept any social invitations for the remainder of the summer, preferring to immerse himself in business. He left Bath at the beginning of autumn and returned to Salisbury to attend to his clients there. He dined infrequently with his father and avoided any discussion of Mrs. Greene, although his father was desirous of news of her. He visited David and Victoria at Eston House on one occasion, and they noted that their friend seemed more serious than usual.
Victoria had some inkling as to what was troubling James. Jemma had not written to her of James’ proposal, but references to the gentleman, which had been so frequent in her earlier letters, stopped abruptly. Jemma continued her correspondence with Victoria during her travels. She had concluded most of her business by early October and was staying with friends at their vineyard in Italy. Victoria shared news of Jemma’s travels with James, who listened, but did not offer any comment.
“What do you think happened between them?” Victoria asked as she and David sat drinking tea before a cozy fire after James had left. The nights were chilly again, and she wore a warm shawl over her shoulders.
“He has not said anything, Victoria, nor have I asked him. It appears that they have had some sort of falling out. From what Jemma wrote in her letters, it sounded as if she was becoming quite reliant on James’ friendship. Perhaps too reliant for James’ comfort?”
“I do not know, my love,” Victoria said thoughtfully, noting that David’s hands were starting to become raw now that the weather was turning cold. She would rub some ointment into them before they went to bed that evening. Really, he did not seem to notice these things for himself. She smiled at him fondly and brushed back a lock of hair which had fallen into his eyes. He thanked her by kissing the palm of her hand.
Victoria sighed. “If there has been an argument, neither one has admitted it to me. They seemed quite happy together, and I had hopes that they might marry. They would be perfect for each other, would they not? I truly do not know what to do.”
David put an arm around his wife and drew her close on the sofa. “Poor Victoria. If only people would listen to you, I am sure that everything would turn out for the best.”
Victoria gave David a sharp shove and scooted away from him. “Really, David, you make it sound as if I think I know best how to arrange peoples' lives for them.”
“Don’t you?” he asked with a smile. She turned her back on him. David reached for her hand, and when she tried to pull away, he wouldn’t let go. Victoria frowned and he tickled her under the chin. She rapped him on the knuckles, and he pretended to be hurt. Laughing, she nestled her head against his shoulder. “I just want them to be as happy as we are, my love. They could be so happy together.”
“I know, my Victoria,” David said, kissing her forehead.
James left Salisbury for Bath a week later and was immediately invited to dine at the Larke’s house. The household was very excited over Patricia’s recent engagement. Patricia, now eighteen years of age, had accepted a marriage proposal from a young minister named Edward Brook. Edward was the second son of gentry whose property lay a little north of Bath. After he had completed his ministerial studies, Edward had laboured for two years as a deacon to the Brook’s parish minister, and had been given the living on the retirement of that good but infirm old gentleman. The marriage was to take place the following spring, and Patricia and her parents looked forward to visiting with Edward’s family over the Christmas holidays. It had been almost three months since James had visited with the Larkes, and he was happy to meet Patricia’s fiancé and to congratulate the young couple.
James sat next to Patricia at dinner with Edward sitting directly across from them. The young suitor was not very talkative, but James drew him out by asking how he and Patricia had met. Edward described their initial encounter at a lecture given by a local botanist. Patricia had arrived late, and he had offered her his seat so that she might sit with friends. Edward had lingered afterward to study the exhibits, and Patricia had taken the opportunity to thank him for his kindness. They happened to meet again a few days later in the music sectio
n of the lending library, where they had discovered a mutual appreciation of Mr. Beethoven’s compositions. A local concert featuring Beethoven’s music occurred soon afterward, and it was only natural that Patricia should meet Edward there. Happily, the courtship was encouraged by both families, and it was only a matter of six months before the couple was engaged.
James had been too occupied with Jemma earlier that year to take much notice of the blossoming romance, but the affection shared by the young couple was easy to observe. Encouraged by Patricia’s proud smiles, Edward outlined his plans to expand his ministry to families in the surrounding countryside overlooked by the previous minister. Listening to the young man and watching the passion in his face, James could see how Edward’s goodness, earnest heart, and kindness had won Patricia’s love where the charms of other men had failed.
When dinner ended, the party adjourned to the drawing room where Patricia entertained them on the piano. Before the evening grew too late, however, the young couple slipped into the conservatory for a few moments of privacy. James smoked a cigar with the admiral while Mrs. Larke did some needlework. They gossiped about mutual friends until James found it necessary to hide his yawns.
“I am afraid that I must soon seek my bed. Before I do, however, I would like to bid goodnight to the young couple in the conservatory.”
“When you do, you might remind Patricia that Edward has a five-mile ride ahead of him,” Mrs. Larke said. “She should let the poor fellow go home while the weather holds. It might rain yet tonight,”
“I expect, my dear, that Edward’s horse knows the way by now, and I do not think that a little rain will deter him,” the admiral answered.
“All the same, I will take my leave of them and come back to wish you good night before I go,” James said, rising to his feet and leaving the room.
The Larkes had added the conservatory to the side of the house, and it was accessed by the first floor hallway. James let himself in and discovered that it was quite dusky inside with only a lantern lit here and there for illumination. The plants were divided into sections according to genus, with aisles leading between them. James strolled past gigantic ferns and delicate hothouse blooms, enjoying the moist, earthy smell. He paused to enjoy the scent of a purple orchid and, straightening, observed Edward and Patricia walking arm and arm ahead of him. He was about to call to them, but stopped when he saw Patricia draw Edward to her. She gazed at him for a moment, and then raised a tender hand to cup his face. The young minister smiled down at her and pulled her into his arms. James turned and crept back the way he had come. He waited out of sight for a few moments, coughed loudly, and came whistling around the corner. The couple stood waiting for him, hand in hand.
“Hello you two. I don’t mean to disturb you, but the night is growing late and I must take my leave. Mr. Brook, I am delighted to meet you, and I look forward to becoming better acquainted with you.” James held out his hand and Edward shook it.
“Patricia,” James said, turning to her, “you have never looked happier or more beautiful than you do tonight. Obviously, love becomes you.”
“Thank you, James,” she responded. “I have never felt happier or more blessed.”
“How wonderful, my dear,” he said, kissing her cheek. He turned to go, and then turned back again. “By the way, your mother says to send Mr. Brook home while the rain still holds off.”
Patricia smiled and said, “Tell Mother we will be in directly.”
“I will. Goodnight.” James left the greenhouse, bid goodnight to the older Larkes, and allowed the butler to show him out.
James walked briskly back to his lodging through the nippy night and let himself in with his latch key. He climbed the stairs to his bedchamber and removed his coat and boots before pouring himself a brandy. Lighting a fire in the hearth, he settled into a comfortable chair and stared into the flames.
His thoughts drifted back to the newly-engaged couple and their plans. They were both younger than he, and yet they were ready to join their lives together and devote themselves to Edward’s ministry. James remembered their embrace in the conservatory and the look of pure bliss on the young man’s face as he held Patricia in his arms. James wondered if his face had ever held that expression. He thought back to earlier romances. There had been several dalliances, but nothing serious. His father’s advice on women had been to conduct himself like a gentleman and to be careful of the girl’s reputation. He had not, however, given James any instruction on matters of the heart.
Unfortunately, there had been no feminine hand in James’ upbringing. His mother had never been strong and had spent a great deal of time in her room. With his father away tending to business, James had often been left to his own devices. When his mother died while he was still a boy, he had been sent away to school.
Victoria had stirred feelings in him stronger than in any of his previous infatuations. His attraction for her had been spurred by a good-natured competition with David at first, but then he had come to genuinely care for Victoria. To be truthful, it had stung his pride as well as his heart when she had chosen David, but his wounded pride had evaporated when he saw how happy they were together. He still remonstrated with himself for the stolen kiss in the carriage; that had been both unforgivable and demeaning. Fortunately, Victoria had a generous heart and had not punished him for his stupidity.
Despite his feelings for her, Victoria was only a girl compared to Jemma. In fact, Jemma possessed a combination of traits that made her unique from any other woman he knew. She had a depth of spirit and grace, no doubt instilled by her father’s upbringing, yet she also possessed an air of sophistication that most sheltered people lacked. She had endured many painful losses, yet still she retained a joyful appreciation for life. Like many other women, she had a love of clothes and fashion, but Jemma had cultivated hers into a thriving business.
The average gentleman would probably find Jemma’s ambitions alarming, but he found them exciting. How confident she had been in approaching the local merchants, and how he admired the way she had won them over.
His mind lingered on the night of Lady Hélène’s soirée when he had first seen Jemma in that wondrous, golden gown. His heart had almost stopped. Later, he had held her in his arms, and she had rested against him during the carriage ride home. Then there had been that kiss in her garden . . . .
He had thought himself wise in not declaring his love for her. After all, how could he be sure that his feelings were permanent and not just another infatuation? But he had nearly died in her lovely garden when she said that she did not love him, and again in his office when she said that her feelings remained unchanged. He had never in his life begged a woman for affection, and pride had kept him silent. He had remained silent for three long months, in fact, but now an overpowering need to see Jemma again welled up within him, as soon as possible and without delay. The feeling increased until it became unbearable. He jumped out of his chair and began to pace up and down the room.
“If I were to leave now, how soon could I get to her?” he said aloud. “Would she be happy to see me, or dismayed? Has she missed me at all? She must know that I do love her and that she is the only woman for me. She once told Father that she cared for me. Maybe she said she didn’t love me because of injured pride. What an idiot I’ve been! I only hope that I am not too late.”
James flung himself at his writing desk and grabbed paper and pen. He wrote sheet after sheet, some of them to be delivered to clients, and others to be sent to his father and to David and Victoria. He had so many arrangements to make. It was the wee hours when he finally finished writing and laid his cramped body on the bed to catch a few hours’ sleep.
It seemed only minutes later when James rose, but the sun was already brimming over the horizon. He was flinging clothing into a trunk when the elderly woman who looked after him arrived. James left her to finish his packing while he rushed to the office to talk to his business associate. From there he went to the warehouse to s
ee Edwards, where he acquired every detail that the manager possessed concerning Jemma’s whereabouts and the names and addresses of her friends. Later, he went to the bank, the coach yard, and to a few shops where he made some hasty purchases.
He planned to catch the afternoon mail coach. Some business would have to be settled later by post, but it would have to do. He would make new arrangements as he made each connection, travelling as quickly as possible. Speed was of the essence. He had only one goal, and he could be intractable once his mind was made up. Tonight he would begin the journey to Italy and to the only thing that truly mattered now – Jemma.
Chapter Twenty-One – The Benellis
Jemma sat on a wooden bench in a flagstone courtyard enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun. The weather had been unseasonably cool of late, but today the sun had broken through the banked up clouds. Protected by the high brick wall that surrounded the courtyard, Jemma had found a pleasant niche away from the wind. She took off her bonnet to let the sun warm her face, and sighed with contentment. The courtyard was a homely place and served as extended living space for the family in the warmer months. A weathered wooden table and benches were situated close to the entrance, two old chestnut trees on either side of the table providing necessary shade in the summer months. A small fountain containing a marble nymph had pride of place in the forecourt.
The villa was situated in a vineyard in the Tuscan countryside. It was owned by the Benelli family, the owners of the old family home that Jemma’s husband had rented on his first trip to Florence many years ago. The Benellis and the Greenes had become friends after Jemma and her husband had come to live in Florence. Antonio and Clara, with three grown sons and two daughters, had been closer in age to Mr. Greene, but Jemma had come to love them, too.
Jemma had arrived in Italy a fortnight ago. She had spent the first few days attending to business in the textile town of Prato before travelling to Florence. She had visited old friends and her favourite galleries and shops, and spent two glorious nights at the opera. Jemma had written to Antonio and Clara upon her arrival in the city, and they had urged her to come and stay with them for as long as she liked.
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