Chapter 19
W ith the parlor windows thrown wide, the noise of the street poured into the space, but Joanna hardly noticed it; even at its worst, Thornsby could never compete with London’s raucousness. Standing with her hands on her hips, she tilted her head to the side as she gazed at her efforts.
Sunshine poured through the window, glinting off the arms and legs of the furniture; Peggy was a miracle worker with beeswax, bringing the dinged and aged wood to a polished shine. The armchair’s upholstery was faded, but a throw pillow covered the worst of it. Giving it a few fluffs, Joanna stood back and examined the alteration.
And switched it with the one on the sofa.
The dingy white walls had been repainted a pale blue, which suited the room far better than the green she’d nearly chosen; Mrs. Sweet’s taste in upholstery tended toward florals, and adding more of that color to the room would’ve proven too much. And Sadie had been correct—the yellow curtains paired nicely with it.
However, as Joanna considered the progress she’d made, she realized she had highlighted the garden aesthetic rather than muting it, what with the blue above, the yellow surrounding the sunlight, and all the florals sitting at the height of planting beds. And matters weren’t helped by the dried flowers and greenery she’d framed and hung on the wall; Joanna had thought they would complement the space, but it was too much.
Sighing to herself, she strode to the wall and pulled them down, setting them beside a stack of other options.
Turning to the mantelpiece, she considered the figurines sitting there. The shepherdess was far too on the nose, and, frowning to herself, she took it and exchanged it with the vase on the windowsill. Some heather would do nicely there, bringing a different color to the focal point in the room, but it wasn’t in bloom yet, so she would simply have to gather and dry some this autumn.
Perhaps if the other decorations weren’t floral, then a little bouquet wouldn’t feel overwhelming.
“What do you think?” she asked, turning to Edward, who sat on the sofa.
“Lovely,” he mumbled, not taking his eyes from his book.
Joanna huffed. “You did not look.”
But that was met by a huff of his own. “Everything you have shown me so far has been lovely. Do as you see fit.”
She frowned, glancing at the mantelpiece again. “But I want you to be happy with our home.”
“Every iteration has been lovely in its own right, so you cannot go amiss, and as long as I have a comfortable bed and a roof over my head, I am content.” Though Edward tried to hide it, Joanna recognized the strain in his voice and cursed herself for being bothersome. What man wanted to be hounded about decorations? Especially when he was trying to read?
“I apologize for pestering you,” she said, turning to the mantelpiece. “I shan’t bother you again.”
“You aren’t a bother, Joanna.” But his tone revealed the kindly meant lie in his words.
“As you said, I am being silly. That is all,” she said with a brittle laugh. Pausing, she considered the decorations, her gaze darting between her husband and the room. “But you are happy with what I’ve done so far, aren’t you?”
Setting his book on his lap, Edward leveled a frown at her. “What is the matter, Joanna?”
“Why do you think anything is amiss?”
She stood there, clinging to her smile as his shoulders drooped. Maintaining that composure was a herculean feat, aided by the memory of what he had said at Tortwick Abbey; Edward disliked her babbling, and she wouldn’t allow those frustrating parts of her personality to destroy an opportunity to gain his approval.
Drawing in a breath, she tried to relax her arms, but the muscles strained against her efforts, refusing to cooperate. So, she focused on not wilting beneath Edward’s scrutiny. All was well.
Rising to his feet, he mumbled something about an appointment. The door shut quietly behind him, but Joanna felt it vibrate through her bones, bringing with it all the incriminating thoughts that had so often plagued her; in truth, she hadn’t realized just how much her fears had eased of late until they came rushing back to fray the last of her nerves.
She was making a muck of this!
Moving to the sofa, she dropped onto his vacated seat, her eyes taking in the room. Though it was by no means worthy of note amongst the former circles in which she’d traveled, Joanna liked the cozy space. The furniture was worn, to be sure, but she appreciated the weight of history that the pieces bore with each mark; this wasn’t a museum but a place to live, especially with the sunshine bathing everything in gold.
Yet her eyes couldn’t help but pick apart each detail. Edward said he had no opinion, but that didn’t mean he was apathetic; Papa had expressed similar opinions (or lack thereof), and with each passing year, he’d spent more and more of his time in the study or at his club.
Though that was likely more to do with her company than the furniture.
That poisonous thought seeped into her. Despite recognizing what was happening, Joanna couldn’t stop it. What balm was there to find when one was utterly alone in the world? It was easy enough to lay the blame on others, yet she was the common element in each failed relationship. There must be some truth in it.
Had home been more inviting, perhaps Papa would’ve enjoyed it more; after all, he’d written that the house was too quiet for him now, which implied he was spending significant time there—unlike when she had been in residence. If Joanna were more appealing, then Edward wouldn’t treat her like a duty. If she weren’t irritating, she would have friends who valued her. But she was utterly alone.
Drawing in a sharp breath, she scowled at herself and shot up from the sofa. She paced the parlor, her glare burning holes in the rug at her feet as she considered what a useless ninny she was. The other self-recriminations might only be crude distortions of reality, but it was impossible to deny that she truly was a useless ninny. Was there any other way to describe someone who sat about, whinging about her lot in life when so much of it was a blessing in anyone else’s eyes?
Joanna was married to a man who treated her with kindness and respect, providing for her comfort and doing his best to improve this undesirable situation. Many a love match couldn’t claim as much. And how many mothers-in-law undermined their son’s relationship? Or ostracized their new daughter-in- law? Too many, by Joanna’s reckoning, yet her new family were welcoming and enjoyable.
Would she dismiss those beautiful things because of a single flaw? Or accept the gifts she’d been granted and look forward to all the many delightful things to come? Did she truly wish to define her happiness by what she lacked rather than her abundance?
Pausing in her pacing, Joanna forced in a breath and wiped away the questions and concerns as she studied the room with new eyes. What did she want it to look like? Shoulders falling, she realized the whole of it had been designed with that obsequious eye of hers—as though placing the armchair in the perfect place would somehow make Edward love her.
Joanna straightened and brushed off her skirts. It had to be done, and she was going to do it. And with that, she began shuffling the sofa away from the window. Without Gregory and Edward on hand to assist, she couldn’t lift it properly, but it was a simple matter of moving slowly as she tugged and shoved it about.
Before long, she had space enough to shift the armchairs out of the way, and when sweat was well and truly dripping down her neck and back, Joanna gave one final heave, setting the sofa to face the fireplace. Stepping back, she wiped her forehead with her forearm and studied the new arrangement. With each iteration, there were benefits and drawbacks, and this one leaned more toward the former and not the latter in her estimation, though there was still something not quite right.
The home was small enough that when the doorbell rang, Joanna heard it readily enough, but she ignored it as she studied the room, making a list of all that needed doing whilst Peggy saw to the guest. A moment later, the maid-of-all-work arrived with a bob.
“Miss Vaughn is here to see you, madam.”
Joanna kept her composure, hiding her surprise as she considered what to do. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t seen her sister-in-law in the time since Mr. Bell’s letter, but with all the commotion of late, it had been easy enough to ignore the massive apology the lady deserved after Joanna snapped at her kindly meant concern.
Cursing her complexion, Joanna was pleased that her exertions left her with an excuse for cherry cheeks when she told Peggy to show Sadie up. With a few brushes of her skirts, Joanna was afforded only a moment to compose herself before her sister-in-law strode into the parlor.
The lady was family, so greeting her with a curtsy seemed a bit much, yet at present, Joanna didn’t know if an embrace or a buss would be welcome. And as Sadie was silently fidgeting with her skirts as well, Joanna suspected she felt the same.
“Do come in,” said Joanna, motioning toward the sofa, but her guest waved it off.
“I must speak my piece, or I fear I will lose my nerve,” she said in a rush. Joanna’s brows rose at that, but before she could say anything, Sadie continued, “I must apologize for prying into your business the other day. The only excuse I can offer is that I was concerned about you, but I should have respected your request for privacy.”
Shoulders dropping, Joanna twisted her brows together. “But I owe you an apology for snapping at you. That was mean-spirited of me—”
“Nonsense,” she said with a shake of her head. “Though I have come to think of you as a friend, we’ve only known each other a few weeks, and I ought not to have pressed the issue. I can tell something is amiss, but it isn’t my right to demand answers you aren’t ready to give.” Drawing herself up, Sadie added, “I only wished to come over and offer you a bit of assistance as penance—”
“There is no need.”
“Then consider it a friendly overture,” she amended. “I am not always…” Sadie took a deep breath as she shifted in place, her hands twisting together. “I often find myself ill at ease around people, and I struggle to…express myself.” Pausing, she hurried to add, “Or rather, I find it unbearably uncomfortable to be entirely honest with others—”
“Lest you offend them and ruin any chance at gaining their approval,” said Joanna.
The stiffness in Sadie’s shoulders eased as she grinned. “I knew you would understand. I think you are a kindred spirit, Joanna. Which is another reason I wanted to make amends. Not only am I trying to be more honest with my feelings, but I do not want us to be at odds. I am glad you are a part of our family, and I wish us to be friends.”
Despite sensing where the conversation was flowing, Joanna couldn’t quite comprehend the words. She was certain she must have dreamt them.
“You do?” Her face flamed with the desperation in those two words, and doubly so when her heart leapt in her chest, hoping beyond hope that the answer was a yes.
“If you wish to be mine,” replied Sadie with equal trepidation. It made Joanna think of the old adage “the blind leading the blind” because, despite being fully grown ladies, the pair sounded like children, tentatively confessing their desires whilst hoping for the other to reciprocate.
Joanna couldn’t speak; she nodded and threw her arms around Sadie like the fool she was, but she beamed ear to ear when her new friend returned the embrace with equal fervor. And to make her juvenile moment complete, Joanna felt like parading Sadie about town, introducing her as “her new friend.”
“You mustn’t tell Eddie, but I like you better than him,” said Sadie as they parted. “I adore my brother, but he is better now that he is married. You’ve helped to settle him.”
“I doubt that,” said Joanna. “But it is kind of you to say so.”
Sadie shook her head. “Not at all. Eddie has always been a good man, but something is shifting in him, and I would wager you are the impetus behind it.”
Those words dug into Joanna’s heart, ripping open the wounds that had been weeping for the past sennight, and she tried to blink away the tingling tears that were threatening to make themselves known.
“Have I upset you?” asked Sadie with an audible wince, and Joanna shook her head.
“Not you.”
“What—” Sadie’s question ground to a halt, though her expression displayed the war waging inside her as she fought against desires and fears. “I…will not press the issue…but please know that I am here…if you wish to talk.” Then in a rush, she blurted, “Even if it is my brother who is troubling you, I will gladly take up arms on your behalf. As I said, I like you better.”
Joanna’s chin trembled, and she gave a halting chuckle. “That is kind of you, but what I want most is to forget my troubles for an afternoon. I have been trapped in my head too often of late, and it isn’t good for me to wallow.”
With a sharp nod, Sadie ushered Joanna to the sofa and sat down beside her, taking in the room before tossing out an obvious conversational shift.
“You are rearranging the place,” said Sadie, glancing about the parlor.
Drawing in a deep breath, Joanna glanced at the arrangement as she wiped at her cheeks. “It is a shame you weren’t here a half-hour ago. You might’ve saved me the effort of doing it all myself. I thought I was content, but I had a significant epiphany not long before you arrived, and I am determined to change it all. But Peggy is busy with her chores, and I haven’t any assistants.”
Sadie perked at that. “Then put me to work, Joanna. Between the two of us, I know we can make this perfect.”