Chapter 7 #2
“I know it might not be the most exciting outing, but I could hardly leave you trapped at home all day long. You needed something to occupy you.” Jane gave her an apologetic smile.
Maybe her sister-in-law was on her side. Hannah had thought the work was intended to be a form of penance, but this would explain why there were always delicious treats involved.
Regardless, it was better than counting the flower petals on her wallpaper.
* * *
Jane stopped in at the wine merchant’s after they finished talking to make some changes to the club’s order, so it was nearly three in the afternoon by the time they made it back to the town house.
“Where were you?” Her mother stood waiting for them at the door. “You normally don’t stay past one. I was worried.”
“I’m sorry,” Jane said smoothly. “We lost track of time.”
“Oh.” Mrs. Williams blinked at this, her desire to keep watch over Hannah obviously warring with her desire not to offend her daughter-in-law while she was a guest in her home.
“I’ll go check if Gloria is hungry,” Jane excused herself.
“And I’d better go upstairs,” Hannah tried. “I have a lot of, um, reading to do.”
“Please wait a moment. I’d like for us to talk.”
Ugh. This had better not be about Sir Richard again.
Hannah squared her shoulders and followed her mother into the receiving room, where there were biscuits and cold tea waiting. In fairness, it had likely been hot tea at the time they’d been expected home.
“I ate at Bishop’s.”
An awkward silence fell over the room. Hannah tried not to betray her impatience. She wasn’t going to be the one to speak first.
Her mother didn’t seem to be in any hurry either, for she turned her attention to the flower arrangement she had set up on the end table.
She seemed to have been halfway finished when Hannah had arrived, for there were several fresh sprigs of lavender from the garden that she was tucking strategically around the peonies.
“Are you ready to reconsider Sir Richard yet?” her mother finally asked, without looking up from her hobby. “You could do far worse, you know.”
How disappointingly predictable! And there could be little doubt to whom she was referring with that last comment.
“Have you reconsidered Mr. Corbyn yet?” Hannah shot back.
Why must her mother be so unfair to the fellow?
Even if he wasn’t up to her standards, there was no need to speak about him with such disdain.
He’d done nothing wrong except to take pity on Hannah when she was in need.
“I’ve told you how I feel about him. Nothing you say can change my mind. ”
“I see that.”
Hannah paused. I must have misheard her. They rarely agreed on anything. Was this another trick?
“I thought you would see reason after a few weeks of seclusion, but you’re so stubborn.” Mama set the last of her flowers in the vase and turned away from the arrangement without pausing to admire the final result.
“I find seclusion very peaceful. I would have made an excellent nun, you know.” Hannah still remembered how Mama had scoffed at the idea with a touch of bitterness.
“Don’t you miss your friends? Don’t you want a place in society?
” Her mother’s eyes were clouded with what looked like genuine confusion.
“You could have it all back if you marry respectably, but there won’t be any hope of that if you continue on this way.
I can’t understand why you want to condemn yourself to such a life, poppet. ”
That was the whole problem. Mama had never understood. How was Hannah to explain what should be obvious?
Her mother had hated her marriage so much she’d run halfway across England to escape it, yet Hannah was meant to look forward to the same fate. How could anyone think that was a future to aspire to?
But she couldn’t say any of that. She was meant to be in love with Mr. Corbyn.
Hannah pressed a hand to her breast and emitted a longing sigh, wondering what other signs of lovesickness she could display. “I have no choice. I must follow my heart.”
Mama shook her head sadly at this, but only said, “Very well then. I give up.”
“Pardon?” Very well, what? Were they finally going back to Devon? “Does this mean you’ve changed your mind?”
“I don’t like it,” her mother continued grimly, “but we can’t go on like this. I won’t oppose you anymore.”
A little squeal escaped Hannah’s mouth. Finally!
“Oh, thank you!” She leapt from her seat and threw her arms around her mother’s neck, all their past quarrels forgotten.
“You don’t know how much this means to me.
I’m sorry to have upset you, really I am.
I just didn’t see any other way—” Hannah stopped herself just in time.
Better not to reveal her ruse and risk upsetting their newfound agreement.
She composed herself and sat back down. “Never mind. It’s all in the past now.
Let’s not think about unpleasant things any longer. Does Papa know?”
He would be happy to have them home again. He would have to be. Even if her parents fought sometimes, they must see that their vows should mean something—that they had a duty to try to work through their differences.
“No.” Mama’s face looked slightly ashen at this prospect. “And I can’t think how we’ll obtain his consent. A midshipman, of all things. Former midshipman, I should say. How do you expect him to support you without work?”
“Wait, what are you not opposing, exactly?” Even as the words left Hannah’s mouth, she feared she knew the answer, but her mind still rebelled. It simply wasn’t possible.
They were going back to Devonshire. That was all Mama had meant. It had to be.
“Why, your marriage to Mr. Corbyn,” Mama replied. “Why, what did you think I meant?”
Hannah found herself completely incapable of forming a reply.