Chapter 11
L ondon had been Joanna’s home for so long that even their country estate in Richmond was a strange and exotic place; it was the site of her birth and her mother’s death, but beyond that, she knew little of the place. London held everything and everyone she knew. Her friends. Her family. And with a few words spoken at the appropriate time and place, she had surrendered it all to follow Edward into places unknown.
One might think that abandoning everything one knew and venturing into an unknown corner of the world would be harrowing. Terrible, even. Yet when she’d stepped onto the train that bore her away from everything familiar, she hadn’t felt anything more than her usual anxiety. With Edward at her side, she could weather it all.
Unfortunately, she didn’t know how to manage when he wasn’t.
The newlyweds had been granted a reprieve in which they were allowed to ignore everything but each other, but that month had sped by like a bird on the wing. And now, it was expected that he would return to his work. Entirely understandable.
Yet as she peered out at the others seated at the table, her pulse quickened; sitting to Mrs. Vaughn’s right, Joanna stared at Edward’s awaiting plate, praying he would arrive soon. She supposed she ought to think of the lady in more familial terms, but “Mother” still felt odd.
Regardless, the lady in question was deep in discussion with her eldest son about the finer points of chemistry, and even if Joanna had been inclined to join them, she understood only one word in three. Meanwhile, her new father sat opposite his wife, his attention fixed on his daughter to his left, and their discussion was far more comprehensible. Though Joanna knew nothing of the people they spoke of, she paid strict attention, hoping to glean something useful for the upcoming party.
If only Edward would arrive home. He was always so good at easing her into their conversations, forging a path for her to take. When left to her own devices, Joanna only stumbled and tripped about, which was not the impression she wished to make on his family.
Forcing herself not to droop, Joanna tried to remain firm. This was her family now, after all. Yet it had been nearly a month and she felt no closer to understanding them. Sadie was kind, though she hardly spoke more than a few words at a time to Joanna, but the others were neither unkind nor welcoming. Mother glanced in her direction, and Joanna tried to smile whilst studying the lady’s expression for any sign that the scrutiny now pointed at her was complimentary and not condemning. It was so difficult to say.
Holding her knife and fork, Joanna stared at her plate, cutting the ham with precision before adding several broad beans atop it. She lifted it to her mouth, careful not to make a face as she forced the legume in, mashing it together with the ham. No matter how quickly she chewed or how much she drank afterward, Joanna couldn’t erase the wretched texture or flavor from her tongue.
“Is something amiss?” asked Mother as her eyes (which were the match of Edward’s) turned to her daughter-in-law.
Joanna’s fork slipped from her hold, clattering against the china, and she straightened as that tell-tale redness crept across her skin. Telling the truth was not a bad thing, was it? Yet how could she admit that legumes of any sort were amongst the foulest things in creation? Since they had come into season, the family had included them in most meals, so clearly, it was a favorite of theirs.
Adopting a smile, she said, “Not at all. Mrs. Thomas has a way with ham. Very delicious.”
“That she does,” said Father, taking a bite of his own before reaching for his drink. But his hand bumped the glass, sending the contents flying as it clattered to the table. Dabbing the mess with his napkin, he muttered, “Apologies.”
“Peace, dearest,” said Mother as she came to his side to help. “Tablecloths are meant to be stained, do not fret.”
Letting out a heavy sigh, the gentleman attacked the stain with determination—and set Sadie’s glass tipping precariously. Father threw down his napkin and sank into his seat with a scowl, though it faded away when he turned his gaze to his daughter.
“Did it get you?”
“No, Papa,” she said, helping her mother as they mopped up the mess. “No harm done.”
Then his eyes landed on Joanna, and she shook her head as well. Between the napkins and tablecloth, the drink was mopped up in a trice, though a great brown stain marred the white linen. Father’s expression shifted, the anger pulling at his lips eased, and his gaze saddened as he stared at the mess. Mother squeezed his shoulder, and his hand rose to hold it fast before she drifted back to her seat and meal.
Settling her hands in her lap, the lady leaned forward and asked her daughter-in-law, “Do you know when Eddie will return home? I know he is always late, but I had thought he intended to join us for the May Day ball.”
Frowning to herself, Joanna wondered at that. “I know he paid a call on a few people this afternoon. He likely got caught up in some business, else he would be here.”
“His father could have used his assistance this afternoon,” said Mother with a sigh.
Father set down his cutlery and frowned at his wife, though the expression was more exasperated than angry. “I managed fine. Only you thought I required assistance.”
Joanna’s breath caught as she glanced between the pair, the tension in her muscles coming without thinking; in all the time she’d spent with the Vaughns, she’d never heard either husband or wife speak unkindly to the other, yet there was a first time for everything. Mother’s shoulders loosened, her eyes holding fast to her husband’s as the pair held a silent conversation, and the faint teasing turned into something far more meaningful.
Then every one of Joanna’s muscles tightened as Mother returned her attention to her daughter-in-law.
“I love my son dearly, but he has a bit too much of his uncle’s lackadaisical attitude,” she said with another sigh. “No doubt, he has lost all track of time.”
Joanna fought back a frown, as that did not sound at all like the Edward she knew. The gentleman certainly enjoyed a jest and would go to his grave teasing the Grim Reaper, but she’d seen nothing to indicate that he shirked his responsibilities or treated his duties flippantly. Her conscience needled her, demanding she speak out in his defense, but what if that caused a fracture between her and her mother-in-law?
It had been clear from the beginning that Violet Vaughn was a confident, commanding sort of person. From her impressive height (which exceeded that of many gentlemen) to her determined nature, Mother was not the sort of lady who demurred to others’ opinions, and Joanna knew all too well how little such people appreciated being contradicted. If Joanna hoped for better relations than she boasted with her own kin, she ought to do better at holding her tongue.
Mother’s brows furrowed, and she seemed to be waiting for some sort of response, though the lady’s words had been a statement and not a question, and Joanna had no idea what helpful thing she could say. But Mother accepted the silence and returned her attention to her son as they discussed the goings-on of the apothecary shop.
And Joanna was able to breathe again.
This wouldn’t do. How was she to ever find her place amongst these people if she never deigned to speak? There must be something she could ask or say that might encourage the others to include her. It wasn’t as though they were ignoring her on purpose; Joanna simply didn’t have a place in the conversations.
Clearing her throat, she scoured her thoughts for anything she might say. Cobbling together several possible statements, she weighed each, considering how it was likely to be received and what conversations it may spark. Something that showed she was intelligent but would not throw her into a discussion in which she couldn’t carry her part.
When Mother and Gregory paused long enough to allow an interruption, she leapt into the fray.
“I—”
The dining room door swung open, and Edward swept into the room, leaving Joanna to let out a silent, Thank heavens!
“My apologies,” he said, rushing over to his seat at the table. “Mr. Parsons was feeling poorly and asked that I call on him. His gout is acting up.”
Mother huffed. “That man doesn’t have a lick of gout, and you know that.”
“He thinks he does, which is all that matters,” replied Edward, but at that, his mother stiffened, her eyes widening as she stared at her middle child.
“Eddie—” she began, but Father spoke over her, nodding toward the door.
“You’d best go get dressed for the evening. Else we’ll depart with your bride and leave you here alone.”
Snatching a bread roll from the pile, Edward sent Joanna a wink and scurried out of the dining room, and Mother turned worried eyes to her husband.
“He is paying professional visits to people who are not sick, Arthur.”
“I know, my love,” he said before motioning to the others. “But we should discuss this in private.”
The lady nodded, and silence descended as Joanna shifted in her seat and picked at her food.