Chapter Thirty-Five
The much-needed cup of tea having been drunk, and Teacup having been informed by Andrew that she was now to have an official master as well as mistress, information that she took with complete disdain and a swish of her tail, they deemed it time to impart the news to Ruby and Will.
Ruby had to sit down in shock and was, for once, bereft of speech.
But Will astonished them all by commenting, “Don’t surprise me.
It’s bin April and May with the two o’ yer these last couple o’ months. ”
Then Ruby shook her head, “It won’t do for Mr. Andrew to lodge here no more,” she said. “People will talk. They’ll think the worst. Folks always do.”
“Why should they care about us?” asked Andrew, with a shrug. “What difference could it possibly make to them?”
“No difference, of course, but Ruby is right,” said Cynthia.
“I know it’s ridiculous. You’ve been accepted as a lodger, mostly because people think I’m too old to be anything but your landlady.
” She blushed. “And I am, really, but a lot of people saw us in the gig and…” she found she didn’t know how to finish the sentence.
“Why? What happened in the gig?” Ruby was all ears.
She and Will had been at home all afternoon and hadn’t seen or heard anything about it.
They thought Andrew had simply caught up with Cynthia at the wedding breakfast, and after the party, overcome by the joy of the occasion, had popped the question.
Her red eyes had been from tears of joy.
Now the whole story of Ben Vernon and the cleaning of the cottage and Andrew’s breaking down the door and rescuing her… it all came out.
Ruby had got up to make more tea, and had to sit down again in dismay when she heard about how Miss Cynthia had mopped the floor and washed dirty crockery. “And there was I, never letting you put yer ’ands in the sink!” she exclaimed. “An’ in yer fine gown, too! That man! I could kill ’im!”
“I never did trust ’im,” said Will, unexpectedly. ‘’Summat about ’im I never did like.”
“I was so upset by it all, I couldn’t help but cry a little, and well, Mr. Fielding put his arm around me and…,” said Cynthia.
“One thing led to another,” said Andrew, and added, with a smile at his blushing fiancée, “everyone saw us.”
“Well, then, the fat’s in the fire and no mistake,” said Ruby.
And so it was. The next day, everyone in the village was discussing the extraordinary behavior of Miss Rowley and her lodger.
The gossip took on a life of its own. The majority agreed that they’d probably been carrying on for weeks, living in the house together.
It was only natural, said the more warm-hearted.
But others thought Mr. Fielding had probably been in his cups.
He was suffering torments of jealousy over Miss Harriet, who had thrown him over in favor of a wealthier man, and he’d taken advantage of the poor old dear.
Well, he was an artist, and everyone knew what they were like.
Women in the village who had never had such a personable (or, indeed, any) man embrace them in public, said Miss Rowley had thrown herself at him, and he had taken pity on her.
The result of the furor was that the vicar and his wife knocked on Miss Rowley’s door early that afternoon.
Cynthia was in the parlor and Andrew was in his room putting away the new materials he had bought in London.
She could guess why they were there, and, on the whole, was glad they had come.
She wanted to break the news to them properly, and ask a favor of them.
When they were settled, the vicar began, hesitantly, “It has come to our ears, dear Miss Rowley,” (by which he meant his wife’s ears, of course. His own never heard what was going on around him), “that… er, you and Mr. Fielding, were seen, er…”
“That you were seen embracing in the street yesterday afternoon,” finished his wife, anxious to get to the meat of the matter.
“Even reliable people have reported it, so we think there must be truth in it. My dear Cynthia, we’ve known you nearly all your life, and we cannot imagine what can have come over you!
We want to be sure that Mr. Fielding, who I must say seems a very pleasant young man, isn’t…
isn’t taking advantage of you. You have so little experience of… that type of thing.”
She pronounced these last words very significantly, so no one was in any doubt of their implication.
“Oh, no, he isn’t, not at all. In fact, we were going to come to see you later, vicar,” cried Cynthia. “Let me just fetch him. He’s in his room.” She ran out of the room and could be heard knocking on a door, saying, “Andrew, the vicar and his wife are here.”
“Did you notice she called him Andrew, not Mr. Fielding?” whispered the vicar’s wife.
He hadn’t, of course.
Cynthia came back, with Andrew behind her, pulling on his coat and with his hair tousled, looking ridiculously young.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I’m afraid I fell asleep and didn’t hear you arrive. I had a long day yesterday.”
The reverend couple exchanged glances.
“Yes, so we hear,” said the vicar’s wife meaningfully. “That’s why we are here. Please forgive our boldness, but Cynthia has no parents to guide her, and, as old friends, we feel we have the right to know what your intentions are towards her.”
Andrew took Cynthia’s hand and smiled down at her. “But of course. I’m delighted to tell you Miss Rowley has consented to be my wife. My intention is to marry her as soon as the banns have been read.”
The vicar beamed, but his wife gasped. “Marry her? You… you don’t think, forgive me, that the difference in your ages is… is…”
“An impediment?” said Andrew. “Well, yes, I did worry that perhaps she might think me too young for her, but, to my everlasting joy, she doesn’t.”
“That wasn’t exactly…,” began the vicar’s wife, but her husband for once had understood the situation.
He pressed her hand, and overriding her, declared, “Then there is no more to be said, except that we are delighted for both of you. Please accept our most heartfelt wishes for your happiness. May I ask you to come to the vicarage to complete the necessary paperwork so that we may begin to read the banns as soon as may be. As you know, we have to read them three times, and though it doesn’t have to be on consecutive Sundays, that is the most common procedure.
Now, my dear, we shall leave these good people to their own affairs. ”
“But there is something we wish to ask you,” said Cynthia, hurriedly, as they began to leave.
“It’s about Andrew, er… Mr. Fielding continuing to lodge here.
As you’ve said, after yesterday, there is already talk, and although we both think it perfectly ridiculous, we feel he should at least sleep elsewhere.
Could you possibly take him at the vicarage?
He will spend the day and have his meals here with us, as usual, but overnight with you.
We would make a financial arrangement, of course. ”
“My dear!” the vicar’s wife clasped her hand.
“I’m so glad you asked. I was going to suggest it myself, but I didn’t want you to think I considered there could possibly be any impropriety if he were to stay here.
I know you too well. But I do feel that would be much more satisfactory.
Why don’t you just come down to us later, Mr. Fielding. We can make any arrangements then.”
Andrew bowed and thanked her. Then, just as they were leaving, the vicar turned back.
“Mr. Fielding,” he said, “have you any family that should be informed of these happy tidings?”
“No,” said Andrew. “No one at all.”