“You found the opera to be dull?”
“As dull as can be imagined. I think that the stories I have seen are interesting enough if one were to read them in a book or experience them in real life. But it seems that adding music and elaborate costumes to a tale has the power to bring it to an early death and dreariness.”
Gerard felt the sudden urge to laugh. He disagreed heartily with her assessment, but at the same time he couldn’t help feeling that her passion on the subject was both legitimate and endearing.
“Perhaps we can find a middle ground between what you consider wearying and I consider dangerous?” he offered, shrugging his shoulders with a smile.
She turned and looked at him with a frown. “Why are you smiling?” she asked.
“Because I find you unpredictable.”
“I would think that predictability was the hallmark of any and all Colbournes,” she said, but the hard edge had vanished from her as quickly as it had come, and Gerard felt, rather than saw, a smile blossoming behind her eyes.
They walked on in relative silence, commenting only occasionally on the passing landmarks and people, and Gerard found that an easy camaraderie had developed between them. He thought of their confusion in front of Astley’s, and it seemed strange that they could swing so quickly from battle to agreement, and yet there it was before him.
Gerard found, over the next few days and weeks of courtship with Nora Pembroke, that what he saw that first day was to be the tenor of their entire arrangement, for he found with each passing day that their differences were many. Nora was the most impulsive woman Gerard had ever met.
She would turn often from their leisurely walks to examine some plant or other or, more disruptively, she would stop and speak to perfect strangers with whom they had neither history nor commonalities. She was always interested in the forbidden, and yet somehow managed to make everyday proprieties seem exciting. She was late, disorganised, and breezy, while Gerard was infallibly on time, responsible, and deliberate.
There were times when these differences seemed to him like an unexpected breath of fresh air, but more often than not he felt overwhelmed by the moments when they were at odds. They learned that riding, walking in the gardens, and museum visits were activities that, in general, they could both find agreeable. But long lectures and constrained performances that Gerard had grown up learning to appreciate were to Nora the greatest of boredoms, while in turn he found her gallivanting ways to be inappropriate.
He found himself torn between his growing affection for her wild ways and his understanding of the way life ought to be lived. Then, one day, he saw something wholly unexpected in the girl he had known most of his young life.
Chapter 16
Nora finished pinning her hair up in an elegant twist at the back of her head, only a few brown wisps escaping around her pretty face. It was a cool day, but the sun was out, and the walk would be dry. She put on a light bonnet that still left plenty of her face open to the warm sunlight and pulled a shawl on over her pale blue dress. It was one of the days she regularly met with Gerard, and she had come to look forward to these as some of the most beautiful in her week.
After their adventure outside Astley’s, Gerard had always insisted that one of her brothers accompany them on their adventures around the city – perhaps because he didn’t trust her to be careful about further activities, perhaps because he thought that her brothers would be restraining influence – whatever the reason, it pleased Mrs Pembroke exceedingly and was a source of great annoyance for Nora.
It wasn’t that she had anything to say to Gerard that her brothers would be amiss in overhearing. It was just that she found herself at times crippled in conversation by the knowledge that David or William or James would be able to tease her afterwards about the outing. She wished sometimes for the ease of simply enjoying Gerard’s presence without the feeling that she was under some sort of microscope. Additionally, she felt that her brothers reinforced the truth that she and Gerard were only together for the sake of appearances. And although Nora daily tried to convince herself of that very fact, she found her heart giving in day-by-day to the pleasure of being the woman on Gerard’s arm, the person he spoke with, the one he looked at and cared for. It was all an act, and yet Nora’s heart wasn’t as willing to acknowledge that as her mind was.
Today, when she came downstairs, however, none of her brothers were waiting with Gerard in the parlour. Only he stood there, with a young girl by his side. The girl was a good deal younger than Gerard and at least three or four years younger than Nora.
She had a pale face and dark hair, with eyes that were so dark of a brown they almost seemed black. She had a very sweet face despite a rather severe hairstyle and wore an elaborate plum gown that was clearly made to show off the wealth of her family. Looking at her, Nora couldn’t help but see Lady Colbourne reflected in her countenance. She walked across to her quickly and took her hand.
“Lady Diana, what a pleasure to finally meet you.” She looked up at Gerard with a smile. “You didn’t tell me that I would be meeting your sister today.” In fact, she was more taken aback by the suddenness of it all than she was willing to let go. All she knew about the Colbournes thus far was that she was not considered to be a proper companion for Gerard, and she could only imagine that this slip of a girl shared her mother’s opinion on the subject. Even if she didn’t, it seemed odd to introduce one’s little sister to a woman one was only pretending to court.
Gerard didn’t seem to notice how taken aback she was, and only smiled benevolently at his sister. “You have guessed correctly, Miss Pembroke. This is Diana. She has agreed to accompany us today, and therefore I told your brothers we would have no need of their companionship.”
Diana swallowed hard, looking painfully nervous. Gerard did not mention his sister much, but once he had told Nora that she was a quiet and reticent child even before the death of their father. Now, he had said, she was even more so. Nora could see as much just from looking at the girl, and her heart went out to her.
“We were going on a walk through town,” she said slowly, “but now that I see you, I can’t help but be selfish and wish for some quiet time in the back garden instead.” She reached up and untied her bonnet. “Would that suit you?”
Diana nodded, looking slightly relieved. “Very much, thank you.”
Nora smiled. “Good. I’ll call to have tea set outside in an hour, and in the meantime you and I can wander through the gardens and see what flowers we can identify. I will warn you that I like to read excessively, and thus may have an edge in this particular activity.”
A tiny light came into Diana’s eyes. “I also like to read.”
“If that’s a challenge, I accept.” Nora called for the tea and then led Gerard and Diana out into the garden. They walked down the trails together, talking to each other while Gerard hung a bit back behind them. Nora couldn’t be sure what he was thinking. She feared her and Diana’s conversation left little room for his involvement. But she could see the quiet girl blossoming with their talk of books and faraway places, and she didn’t want to lose the girl’s enthusiasm. She decided she would have to wait until another time to know what thoughts ranged through Gerard Colbourne’s mind.
***
Gerard watched his sister, arm-in-arm with Nora Pembroke, and felt a warmth opening up in his chest. He had been practically commanded by his mother to bring her along today in his visit to the Pembroke mansion – a gesture he was sure Lady Colbourne intended as a means of dividing his attention from the engaging Miss Pembroke – and he had been trepidatious about how the interaction would unfurl.
Nora was the opposite of his little, shy sister in every way: full of energy and opinions and curiosity. He feared that she would overwhelm Diana, but it seemed that her energy was an encouragement rather than a deterrent. He could see that Nora was being careful, asking kind and quiet questions that would give Diana a chance to talk, and the conversation he overheard as a resu
lt was beautiful indeed.
“You have spoken twice now about William Blake,” Nora was saying as they rounded the arbour a second time. “Are you well-acquainted with his work?”
Diana shook her head. “I don’t know that I’m well-acquainted with anything at present. I’m quite young yet.”
“Youth is no deterrent to knowledge and intelligence,” Nora said with a bright smile.
“My governess says that the reason young people should be quiet in social gatherings is that they have no experience to draw from, and therefore nothing worthwhile to say.”
Nora turned and looked at Diana with a light laugh. “My heavens, what a point of view. I daresay youth has not allowed you the experience of someone older, but how are you to learn from that experience unless you are permitted to ask questions and form opinions? I think that such a view of the world limits the old more than the young, for think how sad it would be if on this walk you, who are clearly thoughtful and intelligent, should withhold from me your opinions?”
Diana smiled, and Gerard could see that Nora’s words had brought more than a blush of pleasure to her cheeks – they’d brought a new courage as well.
“Then I will tell you. I like Blake very much, although I find I prefer to hear his work recited aloud rather than read it on the page. He seems very fond of his illustrations, but they do not move me as they clearly moved him. What moves me is the spoken word.”
“I must disagree with you,” Nora said with a wink, “for I am an artist myself, and therefore cannot say that the spoken word moves me more than the illustration. However, I will acknowledge that our combined skills could produce something truly remarkable. Think if you were to write something and allow me to illustrate it – the effect would be the best of both our talents.”
Diana blossomed even more, turning and skipping like a little girl. Gerard was taken aback, watching his sister express the sort of glee and delight he’d seen in other, lighter hearted children. He’d always thought she was just a quiet child, but now it was as though he was seeing behind her silences, like a curtain pulled back on all the bright imaginings she had every day.
“I do have a story I’ve been working on,” she said brightly. “It’s a happy little thing based on Scottish fairy tales, with a poetic metre.”
“Sounds intriguing,” Nora said. “Do go on.”
“I couldn’t,” Diana said with a deep blush. “I wouldn’t want to say it aloud. I haven’t spoken about it even this much, but perhaps if you would allow me to write it out and send it to you in a message, you could work on it then, and perhaps paint or draw something to go along with it.”
Nora looked at Diana and Gerard saw in her eyes a deep and kind respect. “I would be honoured,” she said. It was clear that she meant it. “Now tell me about your other studies. What sorts of things do you find the most difficult? Or are you the sort of lass who learns everything she puts her mind to without stumbling?”
Diana cast a glance back at Gerard and giggled. “No, Gerard could tell you that I haven’t the skill for languages he has. I’ve been stumbling over French for years, and Mother says if I don’t learn it rightly, she won’t take me overseas with her.”
Nora widened her eyes in delight. “Overseas? Are you thinking of crossing the Channel into Europe? I’ve always dreamed of doing that.”
“Have you?” Diana shrugged. “It frightens me. All those strange people saying things that I can’t understand – it’s all rather dreadful, if I think about it.”
“I would go to the landscapes I’ve never known and paint them until my heart had sealed them up in fond memory,” Nora said wistfully. “I’ve always dreamed of travelling, dear Lady Diana, and I should hope that if you are given the opportunity you will agree to take it at once. As for your language studies,” she went on with a smile, “I’ve always had a knack for French – call it my poetic obsession – and I’d love to tutor you if your brother wishes it.”
“Diana has the basics quite learned,” Gerard said with a smile, “but I’m sure she would appreciate someone to speak with and practice her accent.”
“That’s very good,” Nora said with a serious face. “That way we can both have the same type of atrocious accent instead of bringing two competing variations to the table.”
Diana laughed, and Gerard watched the two of them in a glow of delight as they prattled on about this matter and that. It was better than he had ever imagined, watching the sister he doted upon finding a kindred spirit in Nora, and he noted with quiet amazement that Nora had calmed her own passion to better meet Diana’s sweet nature, showing the girl unusual kindness. It was one of Nora’s gifts, Gerard had noticed – the ability to meet strangers with compassion and kindness – and he felt his heart drawing nearer to hers at the sight of it.
When they went their separate ways that day, he stayed behind a moment, whilst Diana walked to the street below, and fixed Nora with a singular gaze. “Thank you for today,” he said quietly. “It has been some time since I have seen my sister so open and delighted.”
“I enjoyed her company,” Nora said, her face open and expectant. “Do have her write to me if she wants. I would be glad to read her stories.”
“I will.” Gerard looked down at Nora’s face and felt his heart leap unexpectedly within him at the sight of her wide blue eyes, her pretty face, her open expression. He took a step back, bowed, and hurried down the steps away from her, wondering what it was that was opening in his own heart.
Chapter 17
It was a full month’s time before Nora agreed to go to the opera with Gerard, and she only agreed because her family and Diana would all be in attendance.
“You have left me no choice,” she said under her breath when he helped her into the carriage alongside his sister and across from her three brothers. She had dressed in a fine navy gown that just capped her shoulders, with pearls draping around her neck and from her arms. And yet she still dreaded the hours of dullness ahead of them.
He smiled, clearly feeling self-satisfied at the outing he had wrought, and raised his eyebrows. “You are perhaps the only lady in all of London who would find the opera something to submit to rather than something to anticipate with joy.”
“Perhaps,” she said, “but that says more about the poor ladies of this city than it does about the opera. Will you at least tell me to what we are being submitted today?”
“Griselda,” he answered. “By Vivaldi.”
“I’m not familiar with it,” she said.
Diana, looking elegant in a scarlet gown with a feathered turban, smiled brightly. Nora wondered why her mother always dressed her so extravagantly, clearly above the level of her proper age, but thought it remarkable that even under such plumage the girl still managed to look sweet and young.
“It is about a king,” William said with a smile, “who falls in love with a girl far below his station. They are married, but the marriage is frowned upon by the entire kingdom, and in the end, she is driven away and the king is forced to find another to wed. She goes through dreadful things, including exile from the kingdom and being brought back only as a slave to the woman the king is betrothed to marry – but at the end of all of it he recognises her loyalty and kindness and takes her back to himself and treats her with kindness.”
“You did not tell me you were taking us to a tragedy,” Nora said drily.
“It is a romance,” Gerard said. His voice was deep, his eyes fastened on Nora in a way that made her weak with feeling.
“Perhaps a man would see it as a romance,” she said quickly, trying to combat her emotion with banter. “But a woman sees at once that this lovely Griselda ought to have turned her back on the king after all the cruelty he inflicted upon her.”
“There are some pretty little pieces in it,” Diana said with a sweet smile.
“One aria in particular,” Gerard said, his eyes still disconcertingly on Nora’s face as he spoke. “’Dopo un'orrida procella/ splende chiaro il ciel se
reno,/che disgombra il nostro seno/ dall'affano, e dal timor.’”
A Baron Worth Loving: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 10
