| |
Joy, gentle friends!
(Midsummer Night’s Dream V.i.30)
––––––––
SUMMER PASSED, AND the green leaves of the trees began to fade into oranges and browns. A message came from Harry at Arlenby requesting his sister and her husband to visit for a short time. As Edward had some business in the area to which he could attend, this was deemed to be a suitable arrangement.
It was now almost a year since that fateful day when Edward had taken a walk outside of Derby and discovered a shivering youth at the banks of a swelled stream. He sat in his coach, oddly apprehensive at the prospect of returning to these parts, and with his heart full. Arlenby stood some miles from Derby, near the small town of Lambton. It was a small but well-situated estate, and Edward could immediately see how it inspired the love of its owners and tenants, and how it could be a target for avarice. Swift rivers and waterfalls could provide both irrigation for crops and water for livestock, as well as power for factories and mills that would drive the tenants from the land. The countryside was beautiful, though, with rugged crags and peaks and gentle valleys dotted with farms and villages.
“We might spend much time here, my love, should it please you,” Madelyn purred into her husband’s ear as she curled next to him on the coach’s seat. She then turned her lips to his earlobe, and he found he had nothing to add to the conversation other than a quiet groan of pleasure.
Harry looked mightily pleased to see them when they arrived, and he immediately showed them to their rooms. The house, like the estate, was of modest size but beautifully appointed without exceeding the boundaries of good taste. “I did not know where to put you,” he blushed as he welcomed his sister and new brother into the house. “Your old room seemed small and filled with memories. It is yours if you wish it, Maddy, but I thought the tower room...”
This suggestion was met with a girlish squeal of glee, which Edward imagined was more than adequate approval of Harry’s choice. Harry nodded at the housekeeper, who would see the couple’s trunks suitably installed, and bade them follow him up the elegant stair. The room to which he led them was large and comfortable and had a window leading to a balcony that overlooked an expanse of field, bordered by a rushing stream in the far distance, with an ancient tower on its banks.
“This was always my favourite room as a child,” Madelyn explained. “It is the only room with a view of that tower there. This is why I have always called it the Tower Room. We have no tower in the house, but that vista has always been special to me. As a child I could stare for hours at the tower. It is only a storage building now, but it may have once been a lookout tower. I loved reading my father’s Medieval romances, and once I learned French, I pored over his copies of Chretien de Troyes and his tales of Arthur and his knights. At times, I would pretend that I was a prisoner in the tower there, and whilst I awaited my knight to affect my rescue, I would devise my own plans for escape. Sometimes I would be a sorceress, casting spells on the villains, or sometimes I would imagine myself a knight in my own right, resplendent in gleaming armour, waiting on my brilliant white steed. How little I dreamed that these games would one day become my very existence, and that I would indeed find myself a prisoner in need of escape.”
“You did save yourself, my dear.” She was standing by the balcony, and Edward walked up to her, enveloping her from behind, wrapping his warm arms around her own. “You are truly your own knight, and you needed no one to rescue you. You are hero and damsel in one delightful person. Nevertheless, I am very pleased to be your chosen prince.”
His demonstrations of how pleased he was, exactly, were sadly cut short by the sound of the dinner bell. “Come, my love,” Madelyn said as she coaxed his arm off her body and into his jacket. “Let us join my brother. He says he has something to share with us. We can continue our discussion later.”
The party at Arlenby was a small one. Harry had explained before the Gardiners’ arrival that Percival’s widow had been offered the dower house and a suitable complement of servants, which offer she had gladly accepted. She had played no part in her late husband’s schemes, and had to a great extent been as much a victim to his machinations as had Harry and Madelyn; nonetheless she had expressed some considerable amount of guilt to her nephew and declared that she would not diminish his enjoyment of his home with her constant presence. Therefore the suggestion that she and her son remove to the smaller residence was gladly accepted by all; she might remain in the neighbourhood and continue her friendships, and her son would not have to suffer the distress of a great move, whilst permitting the young master of the estate his own home and privacy.
Consequently, Edward was not expecting dinner to be anything of an elaborate affair, and if not for Harry’s specific request, would rather have remained in the room for the evening. As it was, the Gardiners ended up being very pleased at their decision to join Harry for dinner, for there, sitting at the foot of the table, was a lady Edward had not before seen, but whose presence clearly delighted his wife.
She ran to the woman and flung her arms about her, kissing her exuberantly on the face. “Mama!” she squealed. “Mama! I thought I would never see you again. And here you are, alive and safe. Oh, Mama, I am so very, very happy to see you.” Edward observed this tender scene, standing quietly in the corner, not wanting to come interrupt this most precious reunion. It had, if he recalled correctly, been two years since his beloved had last seen her mother, and that long as well since she had even known if the lady were still living.
Mrs. Grant was a tolerably handsome woman, though somewhat gaunt, as if having survived some great physical hardship. When he later heard her tale of abuse and then abandonment by her brother-in-law’s family, whom she had ostensibly been sent to visit, he fully realized the reality of this supposition. Like Harry, Mrs. Grant had been sent away with the idea of her being completely isolated from her family, with no means to communicate or return, and it was only due to the lady’s great fortitude and the efficacy of Mr. Sherrington and his agents that she was discovered alive in a small village in the Orkney Islands.
She had spent some weeks travelling home, and having at last returned home to her beloved Arlenby and her dear son, wished for some time to recuperate before summoning her daughter, lest she distress the girl by her appearance. “My dear Maddy,” she cooed, again and again, “Let me look at you. You look so very well, dearest girl, but what happened to your beautiful hair? Is this a new style? Oh, look at you! So lovely!”
If her conversation was not the most measured or erudite at this moment, Edward did not fault her. He understood the emotions at play in the room, and having spent much time far from his own family, he knew that he had no right to judge another’s joy upon an unexpected return.
When initial gushes of emotion had been exchanged and kisses and embraces given and returned, Madelyn at last reached for Edward to introduce him to her mother. “Oh, Maddy, married! How happy I am, but how I wish I might have been there. You must tell me everything!” And again, Edward was happy to sit back and let his wife recount her tale. As the immediacy of the homecoming passed and as Mrs. Grant regained her usual sensibilities, Edward could discern in her a keen mind and a good understanding, which she had passed on to her children. She would, if nothing else, be a most loving and doting grandmother for any children they might have, and Edward was pleased at the prospect.
As may be imagined, the delicacy of the food or the piquancy of the sauces was far from the most important aspect of that meal. Conversation continued late into the night, with stories told and information exchanged, until all were too tired to continue, only to be resumed the next day, and on into the next after that.
Only several days later, shortly before he needed to travel on to Manchester, did Edward have the opportunity to ride into Lambton with his wife. It was here that she had been so afraid of discovery as they travelled through the area the previous year. Now, she walked proudly, calling greetings to old friends and associates, and glowing as she introduced her husband to her acquaintances as they passed. Edward understood her concern the previous year: she was clearly known and loved in the village, and would have been recognized immediately, even in her boy’s garb and shorn head.
They wandered through the town, stopping into shops to browse and purchase, and at times to talk with merchants, and visiting a tea house for chocolate and pastries. The town was charming and Edward understood the attachment locals felt for the area. He commented as much to his wife as they drove home, and she agreed with him, requesting one final stop before returning to the house.
Taking the reins, she guided the horses down a narrow path off the main road, past where they might turn to go on to Arlenby, and through a wooded area to a narrow stream. Pulling the horse to a stop, she and Edward alighted from their curricle, and she led him down to the sparkling water.
“This is the stream,” she said, kneeling to dip her fingers into the cool water. The day was warm for so late in the year, and as Edward copied her actions, he enjoyed the feeling of the refreshing liquid on his hand. “It was not so benign then, having been so augmented by the storm the night before. I recall that storm clearly, for it was my signal to make my escape. I left under cover of darkness and cloud, whilst the servants were busy taking care of the house. I followed this stream toward Derby until I hurt my ankle and could travel no more.”
“And I found you.” Edward brought her into his arms to offer comfort and warmth against those icy memories. “That moment changed my life.”
She looked up at him with big eyes, nervous at what she was about to say. “I have something to tell you that will change your life again,” she said.
“Lynnie?”
“I must soon resign my cherished position as your assistant, because I believe I will have other duties that will consume much of my time,” She smiled shyly, and Edward felt the beginning of a thrill pass through him. Could it be?
“A child?” He asked, almost afraid of the answer.
Her smile and blush gave him all the reply he needed. He swept her into his arms and swung her around, kissing her soundly before recalling himself and placing her very carefully back onto the ground.
“It will be a new adventure,” she beamed as she kissed him by that sparkling stream. “It seems that our adventures are fated to begin in Derbyshire. It must surely be a place for new beginnings.”
“It is indeed!” her husband exclaimed, returning her kisses. “I wonder what other stories will start here in these wild peaks. I would venture that they will all be marvellous, and I look forward to returning some day to see what will occur.”
Then, hand in hand, they returned to their curricle and the new adventure that awaited them.
––––––––
Fin