Chapter 22
H ow was it possible to expire from excitement and fright at the same time? Once more, Joanna found herself contemplating that conundrum as the two sentiments battled for dominance—when another question threw itself into the midst of that chaos. Did being the hostess give one side a greater advantage? Or did it simply strengthen both, leaving Joanna locked in a pyrrhic victory?
On the one hand, being the hostess meant the event was held in comfortable territory, leaving every detail in her control. The entertainment, guest list, and food were under her jurisdiction. Her sole discretion. Surely, that ought to put her at ease.
Unfortunately, while there was a heaping portion of pleasure to be found as the hostess, there was an equal helping of terror. Now, she was responsible not only for her own enjoyment but that of everyone in attendance. To say nothing of the added anxiety that accompanied all the planning that preceded the party.
With Sadie’s assistance, the parlor was magnificent. Or as much as could be expected of a home above a tailor shop. Though Papa would likely be shocked to find his daughter living in such a rustic space, the fact that he would likely never see it allowed Joanna to brush aside that errant thought. She adored this little parlor far more than all the many public rooms Crosby House boasted. With the warm yellows and peaceful blues mingling with the lovely florals, it was comfortable and intimate and far better than the great, gaping spaces of her London home.
What need had she of a parlor, sitting room, and drawing room when she had not the slightest aspiration to be one of the grand hostesses of Thornsby? A single room suited her and her gathering to perfection.
Peggy had done her best to make her mistress proud. The treats were delicious and well-made, and like the parlor, they suited Joanna’s sensibilities to perfection as she was just as happy with a simple iced orange cake as she was with elaborate pastries; sugar, fat, and flour baked together was acceptable in any form. And Peggy’s nasturtium sandwiches were delightful.
The ladies mingled about the parlor, examining the decorations whilst availing themselves of the food and drink. Keeping a weather eye on the various people, Joanna did what she could to foster conversations between the guests whilst seeing to the refreshments and greeting new arrivals.
Peggy appeared and announced the Norman sisters and Sadie, and Joanna hurried to welcome them in.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” said Joanna before greeting her sister-in-law with a buss on the cheek. “Is Mother not coming?”
“I am certain she will be here in a trice, but I wanted to arrive with our friends.” Turning to the ladies, Sadie motioned to the parlor. “Didn’t I say it is lovely? Joanna has made so many improvements.”
“Yellow curtains,” said Mrs. Selkirk with brows raised, and Joanna found herself tensing as she wondered if the observation was a good or bad thing. “They are quite lovely, Mrs. Vaughn. A nice addition.”
Her shoulders relaxed, and Joanna gestured to her sister-in-law. “They were Sadie’s recommendation. She was such a help.”
“They do brighten the space,” added Miss Norman.
Motioning toward the sideboard where the refreshments sat, Joanna said, “Please help yourselves, ladies.”
“This is such an odd occasion,” said Miss Norman, her eyes tracking the other ladies, who wandered to and fro with their tea and saucers in hand. “Eating at such an hour? And whilst standing about?”
Joanna’s shoulders tensed, but she forced herself to breathe. She wasn’t going to allow them to fluster her. She wasn’t!
“Afternoon tea has grown quite popular in London over the past few years, and I thought it might be fun to bring a bit of my home to Yorkshire.”
Mrs. Selkirk straightened at that, her hold on her sister tightening. “So, you wish to be our social savior, saving us from our backward country ways?”
Mrs. Middleton and Mrs. Smollet, who had been passing by, stopped just off to the side as though deep in conversation, though their ears were pointed toward the discussion. Joanna glanced between them and the two sisters in front of her as her pulse quickened.
“That isn’t what I meant at all.” Scolding herself, Joanna tried to remain strong, but the longer the pair looked at her with those pitying and judging eyes, the more her tongue seemed to loosen. “I am so happy to be here. I love Thornsby, and I am glad it is my home. I simply have enjoyed the few afternoon teas I have participated in and thought you might as well. Any excuse to enjoy good company and sweets is delightful in my estimation.”
Striding to the sideboard, she motioned to the various offerings, giving extra focus to the best of the bunch. “And I brewed a special tea I blended myself, using some of my favorite varieties that I brought with me—”
“Because Thornsby cannot possibly supply decent teas?” asked Miss Norman.
Joanna glanced at Sadie, hoping for some assistance from that quarter, but the lady shrank as the others talked—which was when Mrs. Queensbury stepped into the conversation, giving Sadie a nod of acknowledgment and donning a smile for Joanna, though the lady didn’t spare a glance for the Norman sisters.
“Mrs. Vaughn, this is simply lovely. I am always happy to have any excuse to indulge in good conversation and sweets.”
Mrs. Selkirk stifled a laugh as her gaze raked down the lady’s figure, which was a touch more ample than was fashionable, and though Joanna wished to say something to shield her guest from Mrs. Selkirk’s sharp tongue, Mrs. Queensbury met that with a huff before turning to Joanna in a clear dismissal.
“I have been longing to ask how you and your husband met,” said Mrs. Queensbury.
If the lady’s bravery weren’t commendable enough, the composed manner in which she spoke gave no indication that the others’ disapproval made any impression upon her, and Joanna was startled to see such a thing from a lady who, at first glance, seemed more akin to Sadie and Joanna’s retiring personalities than that of the lovely Norman sisters.
Forcing a smile, Joanna drew in a deep breath and allowed it to calm her. “I know most people have grand stories, but ours is not terribly inventive. We met at a party in London. I was standing alone, and he took pity on a poor wallflower and begged for an introduction.”
Mrs. Queensbury’s smile softened, her expression growing contemplative as though considering her own history. “That sounds far more wonderful than your tone implies, Mrs. Vaughn.”
Though she fought it, Joanna’s lips twitched into a genuine smile; it wouldn’t do her heart any good to romanticize Edward’s actions, but that small act of kindness meant far more than he ever realized.
“It was wonderful,” she said. “He has always been so thoughtful and kind. Always quick to look outside himself.”
“That sounds like him,” replied Mrs. Queensbury before taking a bite of a ginger biscuit. Giving an appreciative hum, she said, “I will admit that I am spoiling my dinner terribly, but I do not regret it in the slightest. This is delicious.”
Miss Norman smothered another laugh, and before Joanna could seize control of the conversation (though whether or not she would’ve been able to was debatable), Mrs. Selkirk leapt back into the fray.
“Oh, you must tell us the story of how he proposed,” she said with a bright smile that was more chilly than warm.
Joanna felt the shift in the room. Though she tried to ignore it, the lovely afternoon was growing stormy as others quieted to catch every word. Drawing in a fortifying breath, she matched her expression to Mrs. Selkirk’s.
“After spending so many years as friends, he wanted to pursue a courtship but was so nervous about it that he couldn’t bring himself to make his feelings known.” That she managed to speak the lie so convincingly was a miracle, but Joanna slid into the role of storyteller, fabricating the grand romance until the ladies all looked to be in raptures as she recounted the announcement and their rushed marriage. But Joanna had barely placed a period at the end of her story before Miss Norman straightened.
“How odd, because I am certain I heard there was quite a bit of surprise and confusion surrounding your quick courtship. Almost as if the whole situation was a fabricated story used to hide some unpleasant truth,” she said with feigned innocence, blinking at the others like a babe staring out at the startling world for the first time.
Joanna’s heart ceased beating, and she struggled to keep her expression placid, and from the spark of mirth in Mrs. Selkirk’s gaze, she knew she hadn’t succeeded.
“I don’t know what you mean, Miss Norman,” she managed. “But as you are not a confidant to my husband, you may not be the best source of information.”
Mrs. Selkirk nodded. “That is true, I suppose, but Sadie told us the family wasn’t aware of this tendre, which is quite odd considering how long you claim he pined for you.”
“And his mother was in a dither about the announcement,” added Miss Norman. “Quite convinced that something was afoot.”
There was no helping matters. Even if Joanna had learned to hide her feelings, she wouldn’t have been able to at that moment. Knowing that Mother had been so concerned was enough of a blow, but learning that Sadie had gossiped about the whole thing with two ladies who were bound to reveal such a secret when it was most inconvenient cut Joanna to the quick.
Her sister-in-law refused to meet her gaze, and with her standing just a little behind the Norman sisters, Sadie Vaughn looked more like their lady’s maid than a lady in her own right. A pain dug into Joanna’s chest, and she fought to remain in place, though her feet longed to retreat; surely there had to be an explanation, but the longer the Norman sisters continued to titter about the situation, the more difficult it was to ignore the truth staring her in the face.
Sadie had betrayed her.
Knowing it had likely occurred before their friendship blossomed was a comfort of a sort—cold though it may be. And having been Sadie in so many social situations, Joanna knew it was just as likely that she’d told the gossip-hungry hags to curry favor as much as to satisfy the need to discuss her troubles with her friends.
Regardless, Sadie knew the Norman sisters couldn’t be trusted and had handed them the ammunition to harm not only her new sister-in-law but her brother as well.
A chime sounded from the shelf, signaling the passing of another half-hour, and Mrs. Selkirk straightened, glancing at the clock face.
“Is that the time?” she asked. “I fear we cannot stay, Mrs. Vaughn.”
Miss Norman bobbed a farewell. “It was kind of you to invite us, but we have other pressing visits to make.”
Arm in arm, the pair turned to the door, but Sadie remained rooted to the spot, her eyes glancing between Joanna and her friends. Despite the hurt pulsing through her, Joanna motioned for Sadie to take a seat, hoping beyond hope that she would take the proffered escape.
“Sadie,” called Miss Norman as the sisters drifted from the parlor.
And like the properly trained lapdog she was, the young lady turned away, scurrying after her mistresses.