Chapter 6
Six
“What are your accomplishments, my dear girl?” Sir Richard smiled at her. He was a balding man with a large, white mustache stained with yellow along the bottom: the effects of too much tobacco.
He had been sitting in her tearoom for ten minutes already and there was still no sign of Mr. Corbyn. What if he doesn’t come?
At this rate, Hannah was going to have to scare her suitor off herself. She’d been trying her best, but Mama was scarcely letting her get a word in.
True to form, she interjected, “My Hannah is perfectly fluent in French and Italian, she paints, and she plays the pianoforte.”
Yes. An enormous amount of time and effort had been devoted to equipping Hannah with a list of skills to impress people at dinner parties.
“How lovely,” Sir Richard replied, obviously pleased.
“But my true passion is taxidermy,” Hannah said, seizing a pause in the conversation. At last! This was her chance to horrify their guests.
“Pardon?” Sir Richard didn’t seem nearly as put out as she’d hoped. If anything, he was confused. He blinked his eyes in a grandfatherly sort of way.
He did most things in a grandfatherly sort of way, if Hannah was being honest.
It was his daughter, Miss Fielding, who wrinkled up her nose in disgust. “Do you mean to say you actually go about collecting fallen birds and things to stuff for dioramas?”
It wasn’t entirely clear why Miss Fielding had accompanied her father.
Perhaps their parents had expected the girls to form a fast friendship given there were only two years separating them, but if so, the hope was quickly proving misguided.
Miss Fielding seemed nearly as underwhelmed by the potential match as Hannah herself.
“Yes,” Hannah replied brightly, at the exact moment her mother said, “No.”
They exchanged a simmering glare.
“Hannah has such a delightful sense of humor,” Mama continued. “Very refreshing. Wouldn’t you agree, Sir Richard?”
She’s ruining all my efforts to ruin things!
“Oh.” His laugh was little more than a dry wheeze. “Yes. Er—most refreshing.”
“Would you like to hear more of my jokes?” Hannah asked. “I know a number of amusing limericks.”
“That won’t be necessary. Thank you, poppet.” Mama’s smile was growing brittle. “Sir Richard, why don’t you tell us about your home. You’re situated near Liskeard, aren’t you? It’s such a lovely town. And so close to us in Devon!”
Hannah pretended not to see the hopeful look her mother threw her way.
“Oh yes.” Sir Richard smiled. He had crow’s feet around his eyes that grew more pronounced with every movement. “I remember when Liskeard was nothing but a sleepy farming town. But since the copper mine, it’s grown dreadfully busy. Such a commotion on market day…”
This last observation sounded rather like a complaint, but Mama clung defiantly to her optimism. “How wonderful. Industry breathing new life into the region! I’m sure there must be plenty of activities there to keep a young lady occupied.”
She nudged Hannah gently in the side.
Across from them, Sir Richard seemed to be engaged in a similar battle of wills with his own daughter. “If you’d like to call on us in the country, I’m sure Mary would be happy to show you the town, wouldn’t you, my dear?”
Miss Fielding looked as though she’d been asked to give a tour to soldiers invading her country. Hannah might actually have got on well with her, under different circumstances. They both understood the torment that could be wrought by deluded parents.
“That would be lovely,” Mama replied on Hannah’s behalf. “You’re too kind.”
Behind them, the lace curtains fluttered in the breeze like a flag of surrender.
Hannah had taken care to crack the windows this morning, but there was still no sign of Mr. Corbyn.
It was twenty past eleven. If she didn’t sabotage this call soon, she might actually find herself engaged to an octogenarian before nuncheon.
I don’t need Mr. Corbyn. I can make a fool of myself all on my own.
“I’m afraid it’s impossible.” Hannah raised her voice over her mother’s desperate attempt to shush her. “You see, I expect to be married soon.”
This didn’t have the desired impact at all. Miss Fielding was the only one to furrow her brow in dismay, while Sir Richard gave another breathy chuckle.
“My, my, rather eager, aren’t we? But I suppose it’s only natural. All girls dream of becoming a wife…”
Oh no. He thinks I’m talking about him, Hannah realized. Of course he did. Hadn’t the events of the past two days proven that she was cursed with a complete inability to escape unwanted suitors?
“To a dashing young midshipman I met recently,” she added. “He swept me off my feet and I’m desperately in love with him.”
Miss Fielding perked up at this. She looked happy for the first time all morning.
Best of all, this revelation finally provoked the desired reaction from Sir Richard.
His face grew red as he drew back, sputtering, “Why—I had no idea! I understood you to be an eligible young woman, Miss Williams. Your mother assured me that the recent rumors about you were nothing but idle talk.”
“They are,” Mama said quickly. “My daughter is confused, Sir Richard. You mustn’t pay her any mind. She’s an impressionable girl who fell prey to some sweet words, but I assure you that her virtue is perfectly untarnished. She only needs someone older and wiser to guide her.”
“I’m in love,” Hannah repeated, unable to keep the desperation from her voice. “I won’t have anyone else.”
If only Mr. Corbyn were here! They would never have ignored him, with his commanding presence and icy stare. Without his help, her mother was making Hannah sound delusional.
Silly as the hope might have been, deep down she’d thought he would come.
“You will cease this nonsense at once,” Mama hissed in her ear. Her tone was clearly meant to escape notice, but their guests had likely heard it in the stillness of the room.
“It isn’t nonsense. It’s true,” Hannah retorted. Unlike her mother, she didn’t bother to keep her voice down.
Although Sir Richard looked as though his tea had curdled, he still hadn’t put an end to the call.
After a long-suffering sigh, he said, “If young Anna is to stay under my roof, there will be no more flights of fancy. But I expect a baby or two might be just the thing to keep her occupied. It would be so nice to finally have a son…”
Is he talking about me?
“My name is Hannah,” she corrected. “With an H.”
“Oh dear, what did I say?” Sir Richard seemed to come back to himself with a start. “Pardon me. My late wife was an Anna. It’s only force of habit.”
This can’t be happening! Hannah shot an urgent glance to her mother, but her attention was fixed solely on their guests.
“We’re grateful for your understanding and patience, Sir Richard.”
Grateful! For the understanding of a man who couldn’t even keep his wives straight?
Hannah would set her hair on fire before she accepted this. In fact, that might still be an option. There was a matchbook in the cabinet beside the candlesticks, wasn’t there?
“Shall we come to the point of it?” Sir Richard asked, interrupting her frantic schemes. “It seems we’re in agreement that your daughter needs a firm hand. It probably comes from letting her be exposed to the fast crowds of London without her father here to keep order.”
Mama stiffened at this, but Sir Richard carried on as if he hadn’t noticed.
“The best thing for her is to be married without delay and removed from any corrupting influences. If we have the first banns read this Sunday, I can have her safely to my country house before the month is out.”
Hannah opened her mouth to shout her objections, but found a vanilla wafer stuffed rather violently between her lips before she knew what was happening.
While she tried to keep from choking to death, Mama spoke over her.
“Have a biscuit, darling. You were so excited that you scarcely ate a thing at breakfast.”
I was not excited, Hannah wanted to protest. I was planning my insurrection.
But she couldn’t talk until she chewed and swallowed, which was taking an inordinate amount of time. Why on earth had Cook made these things so dry? It was like having a mouthful of vanilla-flavored sand in her mouth.
“Why don’t you and I settle the details later, Sir Richard?
” Mama continued. “This was a marvelous introduction. I know Hannah was simply delighted to meet you, but these girls don’t have the patience for a discussion of the marriage settlement.
I can call on you tomorrow to work everything out between us. ”
“Won’t her father handle that?” Sir Richard looked surprised.
“Er—he’ll come to town to formalize matters with the solicitors presently, but rest assured that I speak with his full authority until then.”
“Mmph!” Hannah pleaded. Would she manage to swallow before her wedding day? She held up a finger and scrambled for a mouthful of tea to wet her throat. “I didn’t agree to—”
“We’ll talk about this later, poppet.”
“But I—”
“Have another biscuit.”
Hannah was ready for her this time, jerking her face away an instant before the inevitable collision smeared powdered sugar down her cheek.
“Would you please stop that? I don’t want a biscuit!
” Wait a minute. That wasn’t what I meant to say.
“And I don’t want to be married either,” she added. That was the crucial part.
“A little more gratitude would suit you well, young lady.” Sir Richard wagged his finger in the direction of Hannah’s nose. But it wasn’t his dry, raspy voice that had captured her attention or made her sit bolt upright in her chair.
Had she only imagined it, or was there someone outside? For a second, she thought she’d heard her name.
That, or desperation has made me hallucinate. The last few days had certainly begun to feel like a fever dream.
Her mother was back to task. “I promise you, Sir Richard, she’s really a very lovely girl. She only needs a little time to appreciate all the advantages of the match…”