Chapter 12 Quite Possibly Face to Face
Quite Possibly Face to Face
EARLIER THAT same morning, Rose had suggested a walk through Green Park, declaring that the weather was the finest they'd had since arriving in town.
Belinda and George were quick to agree, but as they started out of the front door, he emitted a strange huffing sound.
Looking back, Lindy saw her uncle clutching the door jamb, his other hand to his temple.
“Are you alright, George?” Aunt Rose asked, concern marring her brow.
“Yes, yes. This chilly air is like a knife to the skull, isn’t it?”
Neither woman contradicted him, though they exchanged a wondering glance.
“Ought we go back inside, Uncle? Would you like to sit by the fire?”
“Not by the fire, no. But come to think of it, I have a bit of correspondence that I ought to send out this morning, so please do go on without me.”
“Lindy and I can wait for…”
“No, no! I will not hold you back. Go on, do!” He kissed his wife upon her cheek, seeming like his normal self, and then stepped back inside.
The sunshine was beckoning, so Belinda and Rose started out.
Within a quarter of an hour, they were walking paths past meadow-like stretches of lawn, and stands of flaky-barked plane trees that soared to the heavens above.
One especially large one had roots that emerged from the ground like a giant’s fingers, only to plunge back into the earth several feet on.
It looked the perfect place to sit, so the ladies each chose a prominent knuckle upon which to settle herself.
Lindy knew she ought to guard her skin against the sunlight, but its warmth proved too alluring, so she tilted her face up to the dazzling sky.
Taking a luxuriantly deep breath, she let her eyes drift shut.
After several peaceful minutes, she opened them again, and started at the sight of a person in profile, standing on the path just feet away.
Only the tip of the woman’s nose was visible beyond the brim of her velvet covered bonnet.
Her figure was slight, enwrapped in a blue-grey pelisse coat, decorated with elegant swirls of cording.
Tendrils of fair hair hung around her neck, and the satin ribbon at her chin was tied in a luscious bow.
When she turned her head, revealing more of her face, Lindy could see she was quite young.
Probably just out, really, Belinda thought as she watched the girl’s gaze flit about. She seemed oddly unable to settle on anything, making Lindy think that her vision must be woefully poor.
To be ever at such a disadvantage! she pitied as another revelation struck. Why, that is the lovely young blonde from the rout! But where is Lady Orange?
A hint of alarm spread across the girl’s face, and she began to fumble with the reticule hanging from her wrist.
Belinda was on her feet in an instant. Approaching straight on, yet slowly, she asked, “May I help you to find your party?”
“Oh yes, please,” the girl said, withdrawing her empty hand from the bag. “Mamma cannot have gone far. She was under one of those trees just a moment ago. She’s wearing pink today.”
Scanning the area, Lindy saw a woman resting on a bench about thirty feet away. Her gown was a shocking shade of fuchsia.
Of course! She wears bright colours that her daughter will find her more easily, though it has not worked today.
Turning, the mother looked their way, stood up and started over, clearly agitated.
“Davis said he would keep his eye on you!” she said as the gap closed between them. “I sit down for one moment…”
“Do not be angry with him, Mamma. This kind woman has helped me.”
Looking at Lindy for the first time, the mother softened. “I do thank you, Miss…?”
“Belinda Everson.”
“Very good. I am Ophelia Hartley and this is my daughter, Dora. Will you sit with us a moment that we may better express our thanks to you?”
Glancing back to see that Rose saw precisely where she was going off to, Belinda followed along, pleased that she might enjoy some real conversation with another young woman.
As soon as they were settled, Mrs Hartley looked around, cross again and asked her daughter, “Where has your thoughtless brother gone off to?” Then, with a tight smile, she told Belinda, “We are truly grateful for your attentiveness, Miss Everson. Dora does tend to wander off—”
“Mamma! You make me out to be a naughty puppy.” Miss Hartley laughed. “You must forgive her, Miss Everson. It seems her nerves are worn to bits since my governess has left us!”
“Yes well, Miss Harp did stay close to you, though she proved wanting in the end. Oh Dora, stop your squinting at Miss Everson! It is most unbecoming.”
“I am only acquainting myself with her face, Mamma.”
Lindy lifted her head a little that the girl might see her more easily.
Mrs Hartley’s displeasure found a different focal point as a young man was then coming towards them. He wore a coat that was blue as a robin’s egg, his smooth jawline indicating that he was even younger than Dora.
“Davis.” Mrs Hartley hmphed.
“Mamma, I had my eye on her the whole time,” he began as he plunked down on the lawn.
“We had just started back when I thought I heard a goldfinch just a little ways away, so I went to find it, and when I saw Dora was safe with her friend here—” he nodded in Belinda’s direction “—I knew I needn’t rush back.
And as you see, my sister has not come to any harm whatsoever! ”
Goodness, what a row! Belinda found it more diverting than anything else London had offered her up until that point.
“Lindy darling,” Aunt Rose had made her way over. “Won’t you introduce me to your friends?”
Once Belinda had complied, Mrs Hartley, who was all conviviality again, urged Rose to sit down at once.
“Your niece has been very kind in her attentions to my Dora! We are not accustomed to others being mindful of her in public places. You see, her eyes are quite weak…”
“A misfortune that requires us to wear these hues.” Master Hartley frowned down at his vivid coat, then shifted his gaze to his mother’s garish gown.
“I don’t know what you mean, Davis,” Mrs Hartley sniffed. “I was assured this shade of carmine becomes me very well.”
Her son looked away pointedly, pressing his lips together, while her daughter quietly traced a finger over the swirled cord on her cuff.
“And so it does, Mrs Hartley,” Rose interjected. “Not many are blessed with a complexion such as yours.”
“Why, thank you.” The woman’s cheeks grew rosy with pleasure, and her tongue stilled, at last.
Employing her natural charm, it took Mrs Caspar no time at all to steer the party away from squabbling further, and into the throes of a merry engagement.
Soon, Mrs Hartley was insisting that they call one another by their Christian names, though Belinda could not think of actually addressing the woman as ‘Ophelia’.
This bonhomie went on for several minutes until Rose sighed and said, “Well, dear Hartleys, I fear we must be on our way, but promise me you’ll come to call on us in Hertford Street. ”
“Oh, and you must join us at Regent’s Park tomorrow!” Mrs Hartley opened her reticule, and began to dig around excitedly. “Dear Leo, my husband, procured for me a written order as there’s no getting in to see the animals without one. Ah, here it is!”
She handed Lindy a printed card which depicted several creatures in enclosures.
Written in fancy script around its perimeter was ‘Admit Leonard Hartley and Party to the Gardens or Museum of the Zoological Society’, followed by an illegible signature.
After admiring the little work of art for what she hoped was the expected amount of time, Lindy passed it to Rose who also praised it before giving it back to its beaming owner.
Returning the treasure to her bag, Mrs Hartley asked again for the direction to Hertford Street, clarifying when they would come to fetch them the next day. With that settled, Lindy rose from the bench alongside her aunt, bidding their new friends adieu.
When they had walked a considerable stretch of path away, Rose said, “It seems that Miss Hartley would benefit from a pair of spectacles.”
“Surely her parents have attempted that remedy, so her impairment must be something more than mere myopia,” Belinda replied. “Perhaps we’ll learn more of it tomorrow.”
Knowing that she would see Dora the very next day kept Lindy lighthearted all the way home.
However, the moment she stepped back through the townhouse’s front door, she sensed something was amiss.
The maid seemed as if she had been anxiously awaiting their return, looking especially wide-eyed as she took their wraps.
Rose, also conscious of the strange air, asked, “Is everything alright, Minnie?”
The servant blinked twice, then dropped her eyes to the floor.
“Come upstairs, won’t you, ma’am?”
Belinda wondered if the girl had broken something while cleaning one of the bedrooms and was fearful of confessing it.
Thinking to lessen her shame by reducing its audience, Lindy slipped away to the library.
Leaving the door ajar, she sat and took up the embroidery she had brought from Whitehall.
She thought the needlework something of an extravagance as she eyed the blue and purple flowers she had so painstakingly stitched.
If I was at home, I would be doing something more useful, like mending Bertie’s shirt.
Goodness knows how many tears it’s got in it now!
She flipped the tambour over and began to neaten the linen square’s back, snipping the knots close with a little pair of scissors.
But here, I must act as if I am a lady, or at least like the sort of woman a true lady wants nearby.
Suddenly, she was startled by a clamber on the staircase. Straight after, she saw through the window that Lee, the footman, was dashing across the back garden. He nearly collided with the gardener who was trimming a holly bush.
“Argh! Mind yer path, lad!” the grizzled fellow barked.
Lee paused to steady him before he hurried on again towards the mews.
“Why so fleet?” the gardener called after him.
“I’m meant to fetch a doctor!” the footman hollered over his shoulder, then was gone.
A doctor? Was Minnie fretful at admitting she’s feeling poorly? She did look peaked, but not so ill as to need a—
Doctor! Belinda thrust the tambour aside and pressed her hands to her roiling stomach. If it’s Dr Felix who comes to see her, Mr Alwyn may come with him!
From the moment Rose had invited her to come to London, Lindy had, of course, thought of the fact that Mr Alwyn lived there, but knowing they would not move in the same social circles, she had neither hoped for nor dreaded the thought of encountering him.
But now I may see him within the hour!
Rising, she shut the library’s door and stepped over to the glass above the hearth to tidy her hair. Then, she dipped her head solemnly at her reflection, practicing in a murmur, “Thank you for coming, Dr Felix and Mr Alwyn.”
And what if I find I must converse further with him?
Well then, I can ask how his studies progress – he spoke much of that when we were last together. And if he inquires why I have come to town, perhaps I will tell him about my plan to become a lady’s companion. Then he will see that I’m not content to sit idle in Trippingham.
Forcing herself to sit back down, she clutched the embroidery hoop, her ears alert, her heart aflutter.