Chapter Sixteen
Mariana and Gwendolyn were waiting in the living room when the Maynard’s barouche drew up outside the farmhouse.
Laura was sleeping peacefully in her cradle, satiated from her recent feed but still Gwendolyn felt anxious.
This was the first time she would be away from her child and even though Mrs. Ewbanks had much experience with looking after infants, Gwendolyn couldn’t hide her anxiety.
“Are you sure I should go?” she asked for at least the twentieth time.
Mrs. Ewbanks nodded. She had seen many women struggling with the need to leave their babies to be brought up by someone else and she sympathized with Gwendolyn’s situation.
But a few short trips away from the farm would prepare both mother and child for the eventual permanent separation.
“Laura will be fine. I have pap all ready for her should she need it. Do you have enough linen pads to replace the ones keeping your breasts dry?”
Gwendolyn was still not used to the blunt way country people spoke of bodily functions and her cheeks were flushed. “Yes, I have and I have a little bag into which I can put any soiled ones, but I am not sure where I could exchange them.”
Mariana squeezed her hand. “We won’t be away for very long. It will be well, you’ll see.”
Freya was calling to them and so with a last kiss on Laura’s cheek, Gwendolyn walked out to the carriage.
She was startled, when she followed Mariana into the comfortable interior, to see Lord Montgomery sitting on one of the benches. “Oh, I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”
Roland raised an eyebrow. “I do apologize for imposing myself on your outing, but Lady Maynard and I thought it would be best if I were able to introduce you to Mr. Murray. I might also be able to give some valuable advice about the most suitable areas to establish a shop of the sort you plan.”
Every word he spoke felt like a stone being dropped into Gwendolyn’s heart. She sat down on the same bench as him, the other being fully occupied by Lady Maynard, Freya and Mariana. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude,” she muttered.
Lady Maynard rapped on the roof and the coachman set off, keeping the horses at a steady trot. The sudden movement caused Gwendolyn, who was perched precariously on the edge of the seat, to slide right into Roland.
“Sorry,” she said again, a little more clearly this time.
She faced straight ahead as she tried to steady herself on the seat, and could not see the amused smile on Roland’s face.
“There’s no need to apologize,” he said. “Are you comfortable now?”
Her shoulders relaxed slightly as the humor of the situation provoked a smile from her. “I really do seem to have become very clumsy. One of these days I will need a walking stick to get around.”
“Not for many years, yet,” Roland said, looking at her with warmth and admiration.
She did look good. Much of the pudginess she had gained during her pregnancy had melted away, leaving her lithe and strong.
She was wearing a simpler dress than those that had been her usual choice in London, but the pretty blue color complemented by a pelisse and bonnet of a slightly deeper shade brought out the brightness of her eyes.
He had spent much of the previous day thinking about her response to the news of Robert’s engagement and her plans to start a business.
He admired her fortitude and resilience but he wanted to be part of her future.
He had wandered around his large house imagining her brightness and laughter filling the rooms with joy and love.
His steps had carried him to the long-unused nursery where a wooden crib which had been used by generations of Montgomerys stood in a corner.
He had rocked it slowly, thinking about what Laura and his future children would need for their comfort and amusement.
The rockers of the crib creaked stiffly and he had ordered the estate carpenter to have a look at it.
Now all he had to do was to convince Gwendolyn that her best option was to marry him.
He would adopt Laura as his own child, not caring whether people thought he was truly the father.
Together, he and Gwendolyn could face the world with equanimity.
“Lord Montgomery? Are you well? You have been awfully silent.”
Roland swung around to look at Freya. “I was lost in thought,” he said.
Before Freya could impertinently offer him a penny for his thoughts, Lady Maynard observed that they had arrived at the lawyer’s office.
Gwendolyn looked around with interest. She had never before set foot in Carlisle and now this border town was to be her home. She could not hide her disappointment at the muddy streets, the flatness of the area near the river, and the sparseness of the trees.
Mariana, however, focused on the castle which, although ruined, loomed over the city.
“Oh, that’s where poor Mary Queen of Scots spent her last months.
Just imagine, she would have looked out on the very streets on which we are standing and seen the same river flowing through the town. I would love to explore it.”
Roland offered his arm to Lady Montgomery and together the group entered the newly built office. Mariana squeezed Gwendolyn’s hand. “We’re going to do well. Everything will turn out fine.” But Gwendolyn wasn’t convinced by her cousin’s words, especially because of the way her voice wavered.
Gwendolyn squeezed Mariana’s hand in response but said nothing. Her eyes were fixed on Roland and so were her thoughts. She had only herself to blame for not being worthy of his love or even his long-term care.
She tried to mimic her cousin’s optimism. “Perhaps when we settle here, you will be able to attend assemblies. Nobody here knows about your family history. There must be a man sensible enough to know you would be a wonderful wife. There is no one more loyal or more caring than you.”
Mariana blushed at Gwendolyn’s words. “I have never had the dreams other women have, of getting married, although I think it would be wonderful to be loved as R—” She stumbled over her words, and changed to say, “Romeo loved Juliet, although dying for love is not a desirable outcome.”
Gwendolyn stared at her, confused. “That’s not what you were going to say.”
Fortunately, the lawyer came out to greet them and Mariana was not called on to explain herself.
Mr. Murray was a middle-aged, balding man with a plump waistline that bore testimony to his love of food.
His round face looked even rounder because of the round spectacles perched on his nose.
He was neatly dressed in a somber suit, eminently suitable for a small town lawyer and he ushered them into his office, alarmed that there were not enough chairs.
He had not expected such a crowd of people, especially as most of them were women. All his clients were men.
Roland introduced Gwendolyn and Mariana and then left Gwendolyn to explain what they were planning.
Mr. Murray tried not to scowl. There were some women who worked in shops run by their husbands but he had never known of women to run their own businesses, although he had heard that there were dressmakers in London were outrageously independent.
He cleared his throat when Gwendolyn brought her very efficient overview to an end.
“So, my lord,” he could not bring himself to address the women, “you are asking me to suggest a suitable location for this, uhm, venture and to oversee the management of the business of these… girls.” No matter how hard he tried, he could not keep the derision out of his voice.
Roland raised an eyebrow. “These women are very capable and their business will not require excessive supervision.” His words were mild but there was an edge of steel in his voice that reminded Gwen of the first time she had met him.
The solicitor shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Yes, yes, I understand that you, my lord, will be overseeing this shop, although if I may advise you, any form of trade is mala fide, imprudent for a member of the aristocracy.”
“The world is changing,” the baron pointed out, “and those who are wise will move with the times.”
The lawyer removed his spectacles and wiped them on a large handkerchief. When he had returned them to their proper place on his nose, he said, “What specifically can I do for you today, my lord?”
“You need to draw up a contract between Miss Burroughs, Miss Winterton, and Lady Maynard.”
He nodded towards Lady Maynard who had been silently observing all that was taking place. Mr. Murray looked closely at her for the first time.
Lady Maynard gave a regal smile. “Thank you, Lord Montgomery. Mr. Murray, I will be funding the setting up of the business Miss Burroughs and Miss Winterton are going to start. As their partner, I will be entitled to five percent of their profits. I will also sign the lease for the venue where the shop will open and we hope that you can suggest available properties we can see today.”
With a despairing look at Lord Montgomery, Mr. Murray began to make notes of the details. Gwendolyn tried to focus but she was not used to thinking about rents and profit. Besides, she felt a tightness in her stomach and her heart was as heavy as a stone.
The thought of living here in Carlisle, just out of reach of Ashfell where Laura would live, was heartbreaking.
And she didn’t want to consider what it would be like if she ever saw Roland in the streets of the town.
She turned her head slightly so that she could see him and was startled to discover he was watching her.
He held her gaze with the magnetism of his eyes for a long moment.
She forgot to breathe. In the background, the lawyer’s voice droned on, but the sounds of music filled her ears.
She smiled. Roland smiled back. In that moment, her fate was sealed.
Their emotions were declared more openly than words could have done.