Chapter 17 #2
The next day when Camilla welcomed Bernice into the drawing room, her heart still felt bruised from having witnessed Pembroke and Miss Eubank together.
That was the best way she could describe it, and it only told her how much she had lulled herself into thinking she had successfully put Pembroke out of her mind once and for all.
If she had, the sight of him walking with Miss Eubank and turning his face to get a glimpse of hers, would not have felt as though she had dropped her heart on his path only for him to trod over it.
Today, however, she would not discuss the affairs of her heart.
She was here to listen to what was very likely Bernice’s good fortune.
And if anyone deserved good fortune, it was Bernice Milton.
Lady Poole had gone on morning calls and taken Joanna with her, and Evo was again out with friends.
She scarcely saw either hide or hair of him and hoped he was not getting into trouble.
Tilly was the only one at home, but as she and Miss Cross were pressing flowers in the nursery, she said they would have a tea tray brought there.
“I gathered from the look on your face yesterday that you have good news to share,” she told Bernice as soon as they were seated.
Bernice had never looked lovelier as she gave an answering smile. “Yesterday, Mr. Pollard asked me to be his wife, and I have consented.”
“That is wonderful!” Camilla exclaimed, standing again to embrace Bernice.
The tea tray came in shortly afterwards, interrupting midway through the story of how it happened.
They waited while everything was set out, and the tea was steeping.
As soon as the servants left, Camilla turned her expectant gaze back to Bernice.
“We share an interest in agricultural matters. I know I have mentioned my strange hobby before.” She looked self-conscious, so Camilla nodded encouragingly.
“It is just so odd that someone else could be interested—not in precisely the same thing, but close enough to it—that they do not think it odd of me.”
“I think it marvelous that he did not look down upon your interest simply because you are a woman,” Camilla said.
“That too! Then again, I hardly think there’s another woman in all of England who is interested in experimenting with agriculture.
” She laughed suddenly. “And we share other interests, even radical ones such as allowing tenant farmers to experiment with certain techniques that might increase their personal wealth. We began by discussing what it would be like to build an orchard. He has space for it, you see, and with just the ideal conditions that are needed. That eventually led to the idea of sharing ideas, which…well, then developed into something I had not expected.”
Camilla was content to let her speak and just fill in the silences with nods of encouragement.
She poured the tea and handed the cake to Bernice.
She took some for herself, and for once did not even want it.
This unusual restraint was likely due to her sore heart and would prove temporary.
Or perhaps she had come to know that eating for comfort did not really solve anything. Only time would tell.
“He began to ask me for my opinion, and soon we spoke of other matters that interested us. And before I knew it, he started to call and invite me to go out walking. Even my mother noticed.”
Camilla chuckled. “I suppose she had something to say about it, but whether for good or for ill, I cannot hazard a guess.”
“Good,” Bernice said, a wry look coming into her eyes. “She had thought me at my last prayers.”
Camilla laughed again.
“You cannot know what it is like to have a parent who has no very great opinion of you. It makes you tempted to believe you are of little worth. For if your own mother cannot find anything admirable in you, how is anyone else supposed to do so?”
“Oh, I do know it!” Camilla sat back and cast her mind to her childhood years.
“My father—on more than one occasion—said I was nothing but a plump partridge.” She stopped short as the memory of his painful words came back to her, words she had never told anyone outside of her family, although they had heard them often enough.
She did not look at Bernice’s eyes, for she did not want to see pity there.
With forced determination, she went on. “And I may very well be a plump partridge, but I am not bird-witted, which I think is much worse. And I say we are each of us able to determine our own paths regardless of whether a parent has had the intelligence to acknowledge our worth.”
When she finally dared to look up, Bernice was not staring at her in pity. She seemed to be considering her words, then she sighed and sipped her tea.
“I daresay you are right. Even spending time with Mr. Pollard has given me a contentment, or a confidence I suppose, that I did not have before. I can only imagine that living in my own household as his wife will offer me greater freedom than what I have yet known.” Her lips quirked.
“I am sure I will find frequent reasons why my father must come and visit and as many reasons why my mother will not find it convenient to come at that particular time.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Camilla said, grinning, then thinking of how nice it would be to run her own household with a husband of her choosing.
She couldn’t help but think how nice it would have been to have a man in her life who constantly reminded her of her worth instead of tearing her down.
Who knew what she might become with such encouragement?
Camilla and Joanna set out for Hookham’s circulating library on foot, wishing to enjoy both the fair weather and exercise. They walked, arms linked, with a footman behind them, prepared to carry their books on the return.
“Have you seen Evo today?” she asked Joanna.
“We went riding this morning together in the park.” Joanna thought for a minute. “I think he said today he was going to Astley’s with Jack Sanders.”
“It’s odd to think of him growing old enough to wander around London on his own, isn’t it?” Camilla said. “I wonder what he will be like as a gentleman. I hope he will become tamed before then.”
“He has been wandering around London even before he was old enough,” Joanna retorted with a laugh. “We Rowlandsons are a rather savage bunch for children of an earl, are we not? Left to indifferent education, dear Miss Cross aside, and little knowledge of how to go about in Society.”
“I could not have said it better myself. But we’ll come about.” Camilla turned to her sister, a furrow in her brows. “Won’t we?”
“Assuredly! After all, look at both Sophia and Dorry.” She squeezed Camilla’s arm. “And you are next.”
“Hardly,” Camilla said with something close to a snort.