CHAPTER TWELVE #2
This last was meant for her mother, who rose to the bait, saying dryly, “I could wish you were less selective about emulating the conduct of a lady, my love. Intimating that Lord Hastings is getting on in years went beyond what is agreeable in a well-brought-up young lady.”
“But I was only funning,” Laura protested, “and he had spoken first in that vein himself. Naturally I would not be so brash with a mere acquaintance.”
“So you consider Lord Hastings more than a mere acquaintance, cousin?”
Laura turned puzzled eyes on the girl regarding her with unusual intentness. “Why, yes, I consider him a friend — do not you? He has been very kind and accommodating, and his company is always entertaining. Do you not find it so?”
“I quite agree that Lord Hastings possesses all these qualities, if this is your definition of a friend.”
“What is your definition of a friend, Sophie?” As her cousin hesitated, Laura pressed her, “You obviously have more stringent requirements. What matters most to you?”
At first Laura feared Sophia did not intend to reply as she stared at the embroidery in her lap, but after a moment she raised her eyes and looked directly at her cousin. “I feel a friend would enter into all one’s interests and concerns, and would respect what one is like beneath the surface.”
“That sounds more like a description of the ideal spouse,” Laura said with an uncertain little laugh.”
Sophia blinked long lashes. “Well, should not one’s spouse also be one’s friend? Aunt Annabelle?”
“I am persuaded that is indeed highly desirable, my dear,” Mrs. Marsh replied quietly, after a perceptible hesitation.
The sad reality that her father had been nobody’s friend still had the power to generate a boiling whirlpool of rage and anguish within her chest. Best not to dwell on that, Laura reminded herself as she took shallow breaths and half-listened to her mother’s voice commending her niece for her mature insight into the important qualities to look for in a husband.
Sophia had revealed an unexpected facet of her character once again.
Laura found it humbling to admit that she would have expected her cousin to try to make a “good marriage” in the worldly sense, assigning more weight to social and economic status than to moral character and disposition in the man she chose.
She had to bite her tongue to keep from blurting out an apology for misjudging her.
Better to wallow in guilt than insult her cousin with such a confession.
Laura was relieved to turn her attention to her less complicated cousin when she entered the schoolroom after lunch. Aubrey’s eyes shone with excitement when she informed him of the pleasure in store for the next day.
“By Jupiter, that’s capital!” he cried, adding guilelessly, “I had not dared to hope that you could persuade Aunt Annabelle to consent; in fact, I feared that you really might not have cared for the idea yourself, and had only agreed to please me.”
“Now what could have made you doubt I would find it a huge treat to climb hundreds of stairs in an old, dirty tower that is bound to be inhabited by huge cobwebs and heaven knows what other interesting specimens?” Laura demanded.
“I am affronted that you could believe me so lacking in spirit as to cry off such rare sport.”
“No, no, I didn’t!” the boy protested, grinning from ear to ear. “I always knew you were a right ’un, cousin. Wait until I tell Henry —” He broke off and raised pleading eyes. “Do you think —?”
“No, Aubrey, it would be most unwise to test Henry’s knee this soon after his accident,” Laura said firmly.
“Oh, I had forgotten that. Yes, of course. I understand.”
Silently thanking providence that there would be only one child’s safety to worry about on the morrow, Laura left Aubrey to his ecstatic anticipation of adventure and headed to her room to unearth the most comfortable old footgear in her possession for the upcoming ordeal.
The following afternoon Sophia knocked on her door just as Laura was about to tie the strings of her old black bonnet. On entering, she stopped short and burst out laughing. “You were serious!” she cried, eyeing the girl in the all-black costume. “And where is your hair?”
“Under the bonnet. I am not afraid of spiders, you understand, but the presence of cobwebs in my hair is not something I wish to contemplate.”
“Well, I must own that I can think of no other female of my acquaintance who could carry it off so well,” Sophia conceded, sweeping her cousin’s form with a critical eye.
“You have Aunt Annabelle’s long lovely throat which gives you a certain air of distinction, but with all your hair swept up under the bonnet, suppose a bug falls down the back of your collar?
” She giggled at the look of horror this possibility brought to Laura’s face, but said soothingly, “I was only teasing. A scarf would protect your neck.”
“Yes, yes, a scarf … that would do it; thank you, Sophie.”
Laura rummaged in a drawer and pulled out a length of patterned silk. As she unbuttoned the top of her pelisse and wrapped the scarf around her throat, she noted that her cousin was clad in a charming cinnamon-coloured pelisse and matching hat. “Where are you off to?”
“I am taking Rosie with me to the library. I came to see if you desired me to change your books.”
“Thank you, but I have not yet finished Marmion, and I’d like to keep the poetry anthology a bit longer too.”
“Very well, I’ll be off then. Shall I have Sukie at the ready for a bath when you return?”
The impish suggestion was received by Laura in all seriousness. “That sounds a very good idea. I’ll tell her myself.” Still arranging the scarf, she smiled her acknowledgment of her cousin’s farewell wave.
When Lord Hastings’ groom banged the knocker ten minutes later, he jumped back in surprise as the cousins, not waiting on their dignity, erupted on to the steps with smiling greetings.
Lord Hastings, attired in a caped driving coat, responded suitably to Aubrey’s salutations as the boy clambered up to sit beside him in the curricle, but his startled eyes passed over him to Laura, who was being assisted by the groom.
He did not laugh as Sophia had at her funereal garb, but Laura, turning from thanking Huckston, spotted his twitching lips before he greeted her, and she put up her chin.
The colour of her level gaze was closer to Arctic than Caribbean waters as she replied coolly to his greeting.
“It was farsighted of you to wear a scarf today, Miss Marsh. There seems to be a chilly little breeze about.”
“I do not feel any breeze at all,” Aubrey said in surprise. “It seems like a perfect day for our outing.”
Since their driver was giving Huckston some final instructions as they eased away from the pavement, the subject of the weather was allowed to drop.
Aubrey’s bubbling enjoyment and questions to their host covered Laura’s silence during the next quarter hour during which the warm sunshine, crisp air and cloudless skies combined to soothe her ruffled feathers and evoke a feeling of wellbeing.
Her frozen mask of polite sufferance melted into a bright-eyed interest in the busy streets through which they were driving.
“Ah, that’s better. You’ve come down off your high horse,” Lord Hastings announced with a cheerful smile over Aubrey’s head.
About to take automatic umbrage at his presumption, Laura let her innate sense of fairness come to the fore. “Yes,” she admitted, trying to repress an answering smile, “but —”
“But you were shamefully provoked. I own it freely. Are we quits now?”
“Yes,” she said again, her countenance as unclouded as the sky overhead.
He kept his eyes on her until the sound of a piece of coal hitting the wheel of the curricle brought his gaze back to the task at hand.
After a moment he gave her a rueful look and confessed, “I know I manipulated you into agreeing to this stunt, not once but twice. It was not the action of a gentleman. If you have any reservations about attempting it, we can go somewhere else this afternoon and I will gladly take Aubrey to St. Paul’s another day,” he added as the crestfallen boy raised an imploring face to his.
Laura shook her head decisively. “You are most kind, sir, but I am equally at fault here. When I was a child I never could refuse a dare, and as an adult — I cannot in truth say a lady — I have not entirely outgrown that sort of stubborn pride. Besides, I am really thrilled at the idea of being able to see all of London spread out at our feet.”
“So … onward?” he asked with the infectious smile that played havoc with her intention to keep him at a civil distance.
“Onward,” she agreed.
“May I say that you are a good sport, Miss Marsh, meaning no offence?”
“Perhaps you had best wait until we are on top of St. Paul’s before bestowing that encomium, sir,” she said with a wry little twist to her lips.
An hour and a half later as the three stood on the highest point possible at the cathedral, Lord Hastings repeated his praise and held out his hand. She had earned it, Laura acknowledged internally as they solemnly shook hands in the rarefied air.