Chapter 22 #2
He set the letter on his lap and brought his eyes to Amy’s. His considering regard made her wonder again if he knew more about their past shared attachment than he let on.
“Shame. It likely means Fletcher will have to remain in Spa, for he will not have a living anywhere else. He is a fine young man and deserves better than to be consigned to such a damp town with no more income than what a physician earns.”
Amy’s mind reeled at the news of James’s losses coming so quickly one upon the other.
Having finished Mrs. Waiting’s correspondence, Mr. Bridwell handed it to her, not seeming to notice her silence.
She dropped her gaze to the letter, taking longer to read its contents than needed, thereby buying herself time before she might be called to react.
Although her sisters remained silent, she knew they were not deceived.
Her father stood and walked to the door with more fluid movements than he had previously shown, proving to Amy that the baths must be helping a little, no matter what he said. She stared after him, wondering if they truly needed to leave. Perhaps with time . . .
But no. She could never voice such a hope.
Mr. Bridwell called John to come and assist him with his cloak, expressing a desire to visit the English club, where he might meet Mr. Knox.
He wished to ask him about his contact in Rome who, it appeared, could sell him authentic Roman busts for a very modest sum.
Hannah brought him his cane and hat, his valet opened the door, and he left.
The three sisters were left alone in the parlor, and the only things to break the silence were the ticking of the gilded bronze cartel clock on the wall and the sound of a carriage rattling by on the cobblestones outdoors.
Amy felt her sisters’ eyes on her but focused on the letter folded between her hands.
Marianne spoke first. “Did you know that James and Miss Prexley were no longer betrothed? What does this mean for you?”
Amy briefly met her gaze and shook her head. All she knew was that the amazing hope dangling before her must not affect her, for nothing had changed. He had not come.
“James did not speak of it to me, and therefore I must not overthink what it might mean. If the news has had time to reach the Gazette, then it is likely the break happened days ago. At least since James was last here. If he has not called upon me, it means he has no intentions in my regard.”
“I don’t believe that,” Hannah said. “I see the way he seeks you out each time we meet, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Surely he must consider you in regard to his future. Perhaps he is preparing something.”
Amy’s hands began trembling again, and she pressed her fingers together to keep them still.
“It does not matter. I have long since given up the idea of marrying. And you heard Father. We are to leave Spa in three days. Not even the grand opening of Waux-Hall is enough to tempt him to go against ‘the alignment of the winds.’ Besides, even if James did ask for me to stay . . .” She stopped and swallowed.
“Even if he wished to marry me, I cannot leave right in the middle of our tour. You need me to handle the details for our next destination.”
“Amy—” Marianne and Hannah both protested at once.
“We don’t need you to come with us,” Hannah said.
“I am truly looking forward to Paris and am making a list of reasons why we should go there first and to Aix-en-Provence afterward. I have been speaking to Madame Necker, who has promised to invite me to one of her salons, and she said that even Father might come to it.”
“And I have my painting to occupy me,” Marianne added.
“I will be completely absorbed by the scenes I wish to paint in Aix, or Paris,” she said with a conciliatory look at Hannah, “although I am most looking forward to Rome. My aim is to find a bottega where I might study under a master. I can scarcely wait.”
Amy looked at them in a rush of affection tinged with exasperation.
“But don’t you both see? You are focused on your reading and your painting.
Papa is focused on his scholarly pursuits.
Who will see to the practical matters while you pursue the aesthetic?
” When they were slow to respond, she opened her hands. “That is why I need to go with you.”
“Well,” Hannah said after a considering moment, “we can learn. You have never let us do anything, so of course we have not set our minds on the more mundane matters.”
Amy pulled back to stare at her. “Never let you? I would have loved to share the burden, but everyone else was occupied with other things. Worthier things. It was my role to see to the practical.”
“What do you mean, ‘worthier things’?” Hannah asked, a frown line appearing in her brow.
“Scholarly pursuits, artistic pursuits,” Amy said. “All I’ve ever been able to do is stitch, and garden, and organize things in the home.” She blinked rapidly. These might have been worthy if she could but be wife to James.
Hannah came to sit on the sofa beside her. “What you do is worthy.”
“It is true.” Marianne plopped at Amy’s feet in a rustle of silk and took her hand.
“Caring for the home is worthy, but only if you are establishing your own home and not serving someone else’s out of a sense of duty.
You must not do anything if it contradicts your heart.
If you have a chance to build a future with James, even if it means letting us continue on without you, you must take it. ”
“She is right,” Hannah said seriously. “We will care for Papa, and we will care for each other. You must not lose out on the chance to have your own life when it is offered to you.”
“Thank you.” Amy smiled and wiped her eyes, touched by the evidence of their affection and esteem. She took a deep breath and made a wry face. “Although it hardly serves to have this conversation, since James has not asked me to be his wife.”
“I am very tempted to go and demand to know what is taking him so long,” Marianne said.
Amy looked at her, horrified. “You will do no such thing, no matter how tempted you are!”
“No, I will not.” She smiled, then stood and walked back to her painting that had remained untouched since the day before. “Perhaps I will offer to paint James’s portrait and exact a payment from him. One sister in exchange.”
This made Amy laugh. “No matter how desperate you think I might be, I am not a commodity to be bartered.”