“Must you push me, Agatha? It's embarrassing.” Hetty looked down at her lap. She hadn't accomplished any sewing at all this afternoon.
“It does have to do with him then?” She asked. Hetty nodded. “What on earth has happened? I don't think I can ever recall you being like this.”
“I know. It's so silly. That's why it's embarrassing.”
“Hetty,” Agatha took her sister's hands in her own. “Tell me.”
“He kissed me.”
“What?” Agatha nearly yelled it. The exuberance of her children was clearly something they'd inherited from their mother. “He kissed you?”
“Not so loud, please.” Hetty shushed her.
“Tell me everything right now. Is this why you've been in such a mood these past few days?”
“It was on the night after Stephen fell ill. I needed a moment to myself, so I stepped outside --”
“That was when I saw you, wasn't it? Oh no! Did I interrupt something? I'm so sorry.” Agatha was nearly bouncing up and down in her excitement.
“You are overly enthusiastic about this, my dear.” Hetty finally had to laugh.
“And so... continue!”
“There's not much to say. He said some things and I said some things and when I turned to come back into the house, he stepped toward me and kissed me.” Recounting it in the starkest terms helped her rationalize it.
“He just kissed you? Just like that? And how was it?” Agatha's eyes sparkled in delight.
“It was chaste and more like a simple peck on the lips is all. Nearly nothing. Then he was gone.”
“Fine. I grant that you don't want to tell me much about the kiss itself --”
“There really isn't much to tell,” Hetty interrupted.
“But why would he think he could kiss you in the first place? I mean, I have met the man and I suspect he isn't one to go around kissing women willy-nilly. So you must tell me everything that's happened. Are you in love with him?” Agatha gasped in delight. She acted like they had in their youth.
“No!” Hetty protested. “How could I be in love with a man I don't know?”
“Harriet Masters, what is going on? What has happened these past weeks?” Agatha demanded.
Hetty signed heavily. Her sister wouldn't let it go, she knew. And it might be good to speak all of it out loud. Then she could hear how silly it all sounded and be confirmed in her own thoughts. “Fine. When the children and I were at his home the other day, I accidentally stumbled into his painting studio.”
“Yes, I know that. It was how you all discovered that he was a painter.”
“But that wasn't all... I didn't tell you that in his studio was a half-finished painting of me.”
“You?” Agatha's eyes widened.
“Yes. It shocked me.”
“Did you know about the painting?”
“I didn't until I saw it.”
“That's very unusual. Did he explain why he had done that without your knowledge?”
“I'm getting to that part. I wasn't sure how to feel about being painted. He saw that I was upset by it and offered to destroy it.”
“Destroy it?” Agatha was aghast.
“Yes,” Hetty confirmed. “I, of course, couldn't let him do that. So I asked him not to do anything with it. Not to paint it or destroy it until I could think about it.”
“And did he?”
“Yes, as far as I know.”
“So how did he come to be at the house the other night?”
“He heard that Stephen was ill and came by to offer his help if we needed it.”
“That was it?” Agatha seemed disappointed.
“Yes, that was it. We said goodbye and as I walked into the house, he called out. I turned around and there he was. He kissed me and the next second he had disappeared like a ghost into the woods.”
“How peculiar.”
“It was,” Hetty admitted. “And exciting...”
Agatha smiled at her sister. “I hope it was. So why are you so out of sorts now?”
“He left, didn't he?”
“Oh,” Agatha's brow creased in thought.
“So there it is.”
“But why does that make you upset?”
“Because I am feeling silly. He does not owe me anything and yet I cannot help feeling somewhat abandoned. He has not sent word of where he's gone or when he will be back.”
“So you wonder if he ran off because of you?” Agatha realized. “Oh, Hetty! Surely you must know that's not true.”
“I don't know anything,” Hetty was almost angry. “I fancied I knew something of him. I let my vanity be flattered. It is not often that men look at me anymore. And now he's gone. I had built such a romance in my head and I find that none of it is true. That's why I'm out of sorts. I've tried not to be, but I cannot help berating myself over my absolute silliness in this whole matter. Honestly, it's like I'm eighteen again.”
“Nonsense. You had every right to imagine a romance. In my time, I have imagined romances based on nothing more than sideways looks across a ballroom. So don't you berate yourself for this. He kissed you! That is something!”
“But his absence now makes me realize that I don't know the first thing about him.”
Her sister laughed. “What do any of us know of each other?”
“What?”
“Well,” Agatha explained. “I have known you all of my life. And I don't know everything about you. I have shared some of life's most intimate moments with Jonathan and yet still there are times he is a complete stranger to me, as if I've never met him before in my life, much less shared his home and his bed. We have been married for how many years? And he still surprises me, not always in the best of ways.”
“I guess you're right,” Hetty grudgingly agreed.
“Even my children, Hetty. They came from me. They are me. But every moment they are growing and changing into people I don't know. It's scary and wonderful. And some days I don't like them very much. But others I feel my heart will burst out of my chest with love.”
“But those are your children...”
“I'm not saying you should rush into anything with Mr. Henderson. But I'm making the point that even those people we spend the most amount of time and love on are always going to be strangers to us in some ways. So if your heart reaches out toward him, why not take a chance?”
Hetty looked worried. “I don't know.”
“At this time in your life, Hetty, you have told me that you don't need marriage or children. You don't even need money! So what happens if you put yourself forward? What happens if you spend time seeing what he wants? If you're lucky, even for a short time you'll suit each other. And if it doesn't last, what will you have? You'll still have the same life you have now. You'll just be a little richer in experience.”
“But I am not beautiful or young...” Hetty said.
“And when has he ever indicated that those are things he wants? He painted you, for goodness' sake! What more do you need to convince you that he thinks you're worth looking at?”
“I guess you are right,” Hetty conceded. Agatha's talk was making her feel a little bit better. It at least convinced her that she had not imagined everything.
Agatha laughed. “I know it is hard to admit that your younger sister might have some wisdom that you need at the moment. Don't reject whatever this is before it even becomes something, Hetty. Don't say no to it because you are afraid of what might happen eventually. That's no way to live life. And I wouldn't expect my big sister, my model in so many ways, to give in to pressure to live a retiring and unfeeling life just because it might be more proper or expected for her to do so. That would go against everything I know of you.”
“Thank you,” Hetty squeezed her sister's hands.
“Maybe you have read too many fairy tales over the years. You have princes on your mind. And you should expect a prince, but if you do, you should also trust him to know what kind of a princess he is looking for. Don't doubt hi
m.”
“How did my little sister get so wise?”
“Marriage, children, the example of my sister.”
“I think you have convinced me that I have very much over-thought the whole thing.”
“Good. I do think he is a good man. And I would be happy to see you with a good man. I would be happy to know that someone loves you as we all love you.”
Hetty's eyes filled with tears. “Thank you.”
“I love you, sister. And I want to see you happy, whatever that happiness may be. And you know your nieces and nephews would love it if you would stay here with us forever. You have a home here for as long as you'd like, if you want to see where things go when Mr. Henderson returns.”
“And you don't think I'm being silly?” Hetty asked sheepishly.
“Well, I think you are always very silly,” she grinned. “But no more so than usual in this case. He has given you strong indications that he at least feels something for you. I am of the firm opinion that it is worth pursuing.”
Hetty smiled at her. “Then you may have a house guest for longer than you anticipated.”
Chapter Thirteen
HETTY DID STAY longer at Hayes house than she had expected to, not that it made a difference. Rupert Henderson did not return. Nor did he send any word of his eventual return.
All the good her sister had done with their talk evaporated day by day as Hetty waited without any indication that he would be back at Armstrong house in the near future. She did not even know where he had gone to, though Jonathan had expressed his belief that Henderson was in London somewhere attending to some vague business that no one seemed to know much about.
Even that did not lighten her mood as she and Annabella packed to return to the very city where Rupert Henderson might well be. The girl chattered away, asking all kinds of questions about how to pack certain things and what she wished to take.
Hetty concentrated as well as she could, not wanting the girl to think that she had done anything wrong. Eventually, the girl's cheerful chatter helped Hetty throw off the deeper shades of her melancholy. It still struck her that she had been a fool when it came to Rupert Henderson. It stung like a hundred tiny cuts that once again she had fancied a romance with a man who didn't really care. But she had survived it once and she could survive it again. Time and distance from him were helping. And in any case, she was headed back to London and the comfort of her own house and friends.
Indeed, there was not a moment to spare once she arrived. Everyone demanded her attention and she was happy to give it. There were household arrangements to make and their visitor to attend to. Hetty's niece on her brother's side was back in London for the season. Catherine Masters, called Cat by all who knew her, was a beautiful blonde-haired girl of nineteen years. She had first come to town with her older sister Isobel at the end of the previous year.
But now Isobel was married and Hetty was in charge of shepherding Cat around to all the social events possible. The goal was to find her a husband. Hetty knew it would not be hard, especially with the girl's beauty and delightful disposition. But she was also invested in seeing her niece into a happy marriage, one like Jonathan and Agatha had, or one like Isobel and Miles had. Cat was in the enviable position of having no need to marry for fortune or title. She might marry only to please herself.
And so the two women threw themselves into the endless whirlwind of town events. Hetty garnered many invitations of her own accord. But with a beautiful young niece at her side, she could hardly keep up with the number of balls, musical evenings, afternoon picnics, visits to museums, day trips to the outskirts of London, and all other manner of events to which they were invited. Mornings, afternoons, and evenings were filled with all the delights they could muster.
Hetty enjoyed seeing Cat toasted highly by all who met her. The girl had a generous spirit, but was also savvy enough to find her way through the mess of bounders and cads that tried to take advantage of her inexperience. Many were heartily disappointed to find their potential prey had claws of her own. But to those with good intentions, Cat gave much of her attention and care. And so she was nearly always occupied, especially at balls, when men would queue and neglect other partners in favor of her.
Sometimes as she watched her niece dance, Hetty's mind wandered. She daydreamed about what would happen if she suddenly saw Rupert Henderson. She did not remember ever seeing him before at any of these town events, so she did not expect to see him now.
But her imagination insisted on playing out the romantic scenario now that she thought he might be somewhere nearby. In her fantasy, he would appear suddenly on the opposite side of the room. Upon seeing her his whole countenance would change and he would rush to her side, pushing out of his way anyone who stood between them. He would take her in his arms and they would dance so splendidly. Perhaps they would kiss. He would apologize for neglecting her and publicly declare his love. The whole town would talk but they wouldn't care. They would marry and live happily ever after.
It was utter silliness, of course, and Hetty knew it in her bones. But her mind had other ideas of what it wanted. However, after a number of weeks of them not coming true, the daydreams began to fade. After all, no one around her knew what had passed in the country. They only focused on their own lives and what was happening in their small circles in town. And Hetty became absorbed in their little dramas at the happy expense of her own.
Two months passed easily in this way and the never-ending tumble of events folded over her like a warm and familiar blanket. Agatha wrote to Hetty regularly about all the nieces and nephews at Hayes house. They did well. Little Stephen had recovered fully and they were all back to their usual level of noise. That is one thing she did value about her own house: the ability to have complete silence when she wanted it.
Although lately, there had been much welcome noise. In addition to the normal round of calls from friends and potential suitors, Jack Shepherd had made an appearance. His older brother Miles was the one who had recently married Cat's older sister Isobel. They'd spent much of the month of December in each other's company, helping to plan the wedding and the wedding trip their siblings would take. Now Jack had come to town and he seemed to have taken up residence in Hetty's front parlor.
He'd also taken to joining them for their afternoon walks. Now that the spring was getting on and the weather was warming up, afternoon strolls in the park were a relaxing delight for Hetty and Cat, a welcome break from inside spaces and fancy gowns.
On this particular afternoon, the sun was shining warmly and the trees were beginning to think about blooming. There was a fresh smell in the air, very different to the cold of winter. Hetty took a deep breath and observed the world around her.
Many people had taken the same opportunity of a fine afternoon to stretch their legs (and probably to walk off whatever amount of liquor they had consumed the previous night). Yet the park still had a kind of hush about it.
Hearing a chime of laughter from Cat, Hetty turned her attention to the pair ahead of her. Cat and Jack walked close together, clearly conspiring about something. They did make a handsome pair, Hetty had to admit. But far be it from her to push any match on her niece. That would be the surest way to make her run in the other direction.
She was just beginning to think of subtle ways to push Cat and Jack together when her friend Mrs. Lola Wigand joined her.
“Hello, Lola,” Hetty greeted her friend warmly.
“Good afternoon, Hetty. How are we today?” Lola's face scrunched up into a smile. Her eyes nearly disappeared above her round and plump cheeks.
“Wonderful, thank you.”
“Oh, good. It is a lovely afternoon to be out, isn't it? The spring is finally springing!” Lola had always been a cheerful woman. Her cheeriness was catching. “And I see that Mr. Jack Shepherd had the same idea?” Lola winked significantly at her friend.
“Lola!” Hetty scolded. “Please do not utter a word in that direction.”
�
�Can't they see that they suit?”
Hetty laughed. “It seems it has not yet occurred to them. But I think they are both such people as would deny it and stubbornly refuse to consider it at all if meddling aunts and their friends tried to point it out to them.”
“Oh, well then,” Lola sighed. “I guess I shall have to turn my matchmaking skills elsewhere.”
“What skills?” Hetty teased.
“Really, Hetty,” Lola protested good-naturedly. “I have brought together many couples over the years.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, I have.”
Lola and Hetty had been friends since their debut seasons in London. Lola had married well and established a bustling London household for herself and her husband. They had raised a son and daughter, both now married to their mother's satisfaction. But through it all, the women had remained fast friends. Hetty had spent many afternoons at Lola's house sipping tea and laughing about whatever silly gossip they'd both heard the evening before.
Mr. Wigand had died nearly five years ago now and left Lola a wealthy widow. Though she was even plumper than she had been in her younger years, she was still an amiable and lovely woman. However, she had told Hetty on no uncertain terms that she was not interested in a second marriage.
“I shall take your word for your matchmaking abilities, I guess. And anyway, how are the children?”
Lola quickly warmed to her subject. She loved her children well and never hesitated to share their accomplishments with anyone who would listen. “Sarah and her husband are doing well. In fact, she writes that they are expecting their first child.”
“Oh, Lola!” Hetty enthused. “How wonderful! You will be an excellent grandmother, and I reserve the right to dote on the child as if it were my own grandchild.”
“Hetty, you know that Sarah would love that. Especially with her father gone, she wants the child to have as much family – blood-related or not – as she can. And you were such a part of her life growing up, I cannot imagine that she ever thought of excluding you.”
“And Howard and his wife? How are they?”
A Prince for Aunt Hetty Page 12
