| |
On our way back home, Mother complained about Miss Dunbar’s forward and brash nature. “I don’t understand why her father has not invited an aunt or cousin to guide that girl,” she said. “She is positively wild and it will lead nowhere good.”
Since she had always proclaimed Miss Dunbar a sweet sort of girl, I could only assume she had seen the young lady replace me with Mr. Bywood. Biting my cheek, I tried not to smile and kept my thoughts to myself. There was no reason to antagonize my mother when she was already annoyed.
“I hope you didn’t invite her to the musicale.”
“You know I did,” I said gently. “She will not be performing, but she has already accepted on behalf of her father and herself. We simply cannot uninvite her now.”
Pursing her lips, Mother shook her head. “Well, I’ll tell you now, I won’t be surprised if she comes to a bad end. Nothing good ever comes from a young lady who only thinks of herself.”
As much as I didn’t like Miss Dunbar myself, I didn’t think it right to malign her so much. “She’s young, Mother. She’ll learn how to go on soon enough. Perhaps you could say something to her at the musicale or whenever you next meet her. She may just need someone of maturity to offer her some guidance.”
As we approached our front door, Mother appeared to be considering my suggestion. “I may just do that. Discreetly, of course. I know how stubborn young ladies can be at that age.”
I honestly didn’t think Miss Dunbar would appreciate any words, discreet or not. But it gave Mother something to focus on while I concentrated on my own plans.
****
MISS FORRESTER ARRIVED with her harp the day before the musicale. “I wanted to make sure it arrived safely,” she said as she followed the footmen carrying her instrument into the house. “I could have done without it, but Grandmama insisted I bring it.”
“It’s a beautiful instrument,” I said, showing the way to the drawing-room where we would have the musicale. “And you play it so well.”
“Yes, well, Grandmama says it will make me stand out since most young ladies only play the pianoforte or sing,” Miss Forrester said, shrugging her shoulders as any gentleman would do. “She is eager to see me wed, so anything that might put me at an advantage must be done.”
I nodded in sympathy. “I understand completely. My mother keeps pushing me toward any available gentleman who might be of a mind to marry.”
“Ah. That’s why your mother was so eager to meet my brother. She must be disappointed to know he is already attached. Well, as attached as he can be without actually being engaged to her. We expect there to be an announcement before summer’s end.”
“I’m surprised he came to Bath, as he was in the middle of a courtship,” I mentioned. How must the lady feel? I wouldn’t be pleased if a man were courting me and he left for an undetermined amount of time.
“What Grandmama wants, Grandmama gets. She’s not entirely convinced Miss Delan is a good match for James. She believes he could do better.”
Uneasily, I gestured to where the footmen could set the instrument. Mrs. Forrester had been so sympathetic to me. Did she hope I would be the one who would be the better match instead of this Miss Delan?
Miss Forrester sat down at the harp and began to pluck the strings. “Is it in tune?” I asked, drawing closer.
“It seems to be,” she said, playing a c scale. She smiled up at me. “What did you think of Mr. Ward?”
Who? It took me a moment to remember the gentleman who had accompanied Mr. Bywood. “He seemed pleasant enough,” I said slowly. I hadn’t said more than a few words to him. But as I recall, he’d spent a great deal of time talking to Miss Forrester. “Were you already acquainted with him before that evening?”
A blush coloured her cheeks. “He visited my neighbour for a house party earlier this year. I have found him to be an amiable and charming gentleman then.”
The last was said with no little defiance. It was obvious she more than liked the man. Did her family object to the match? Is that why her grandmother had brought her to Bath with her brother?
“Well, he is very handsome,” I said, unable to think of anything else to say. “I do not know him well enough to say whether he would be a good match.”
Miss Forrester bestowed another wide smile on me. “But you won’t try to argue with me or say I ought to meet other men before I make up my mind?”
“I would never presume to know what is best for you,” I responded. Never mind that the suggestion for her to meet other gentlemen seemed reasonable. If I did not wish for my future to be pressured or dictated by others, I could offer the same to my new friend. “You know your own mind. The only advice I would venture to give would be to take your time. There is no point in rushing.”
She gave a dramatic sigh. “My sister said the same thing but when she did so, she worried she had lost her chance.”
Not knowing her sister, I was unable to comment. What if there was more to the situation than what Miss Forrester said? “Have you selected the piece to play for the program?” I asked, changing the subject. “I want to write it all down before tomorrow evening.”
“For every attendee?”
I gave a laugh. “Certainly not. My hand wouldn’t be able to write that fast. But I don’t want the same tune being played twice in a row. My list will help me arrange the order you and the other ladies will play.”
With a nod to acknowledge my point, Miss Forrester named the song she would perform. And then, she took her leave. A glance at the clock showed that there was still plenty of the afternoon left for my next task.
Excellent.
*****
I DIDN’T TELL MOTHER where I was going when I left for my walk that afternoon. All she needed to know was that I would be out of the house for a short time. She would have disapproved of my destination and tried to forbid me from going. She had tried before, but this was something I had to do.
Who else would ensure Jonathan’s grave was maintained?
It had always seemed strange that his family had never come. His parents had never responded to my letter. I had made peace with that. Grief, as I knew all too well, could take many forms. Perhaps they just were not ready as I was not ready to marry another.
The day was pleasant at least. I had dressed in a cheerful yellow in an effort to keep my spirits up. Peace and quiet were calming as I made the journey. Company was all well and good, but being alone at times was just as important.
I’d made this walk countless times in the past five years. I was there so often, I knew which graves were new and which ones had been left to be overgrown.
Finding Jonathan’s grave took no trouble at all. As I knelt down, I ran my gloved fingers over the name engraved in stone. Mr. Harper had acted on behalf of the family in getting the stone placed. However, I had been the one to make sure the grass or weeds didn’t overgrow the place.
“Oh, Jonathan,” I brushed at the tears on my cheeks as I placed my small bunch of violets at the base of the stone.
“Good day, Miss.”
Startled, I pulled my hand away from the stone, straightening my shoulders. It wasn’t as though I was ashamed, but I had no wish to grieve in front of a stranger. “Oh, good day,” I managed to say, despite my voice trembling.
The speaker was a woman. Her dress was simple but well made. There was something familiar about her brown hair and brown eyes. Or was it the shape of her face? What had made her greet me? “I’m sorry,” I said, tilting my head. “Are we acquainted?”
“No, we’re not. I am Julie Nelson,” she said quickly. She nodded towards the grave. “I know—knew—the Sinclair family.”
She had known them? Why the past tense? But I really didn’t care as I said, “Really? Did you know Jon—Mr. Jonathan Sinclair?”
“Yes, I did,” she said with a soft smile. She walked to stand next to me. I had never considered myself tall, but I was about an inch of height over her. “But I believe you may have known him a bit better than I.”
Her tone held some curiosity. Dropping my gaze, I twisted my hands together. “I suppose that’s true. He and I were to be married, but he died before that could happen.”
The woman sucked in her breath. Had Jonathan’s family never spoken of me to others? Perhaps they thought the engagement so brief, it was of no importance. It was a lowering thought, but understandable, nonetheless.
“Oh, I see. May I know your name?”
“Forgive me. I was startled when you approached me. I am Miss Anderson,” I introduced. I brushed at my eyes, determined to control myself. “I’m pleased to meet you, Miss Nelson. How do you know the family?”
“I am a lady’s maid,” she said bluntly. “You might say that Miss Juliet Sinclair and I are on intimate terms with each other.”
This time I was the one who gasped. “His sister is here? In Bath? I would so like to meet her,” I added. What would she be able to tell me about Jonathan when he was a child? Would we be able to comfort each other as we hadn’t been able to before?
“Oh, no,” she said swiftly. “Miss Sinclair...doesn’t get out much, now that her parents are gone. She resides in London with a great-aunt. I am employed by someone else now.”
Jonathan’s parents died? That explained the past tense she had used earlier. “Oh, no! Poor Miss Sinclair! This does explain why I never received a response to the letter I sent to Mrs. Sinclair.”
No wonder no one had come to visit the grave. How awful for Miss Sinclair to lose all her family. And here I had been wallowing in my sorrow, never thinking someone who had been dear to Jonathan was suffering more than I.
“How did you meet Mr. Sinclair?” Miss Nelson asked.
I couldn’t help but smile as I remembered. “At the Pump Room. I’d dropped my fan when someone bumped into me, and Mr. Sinclair was obliging enough to pick it up for me. Fortunately, my friend was already acquainted with him and was able to introduce us.”
His smile had wiped away my embarrassment. It was as though no one else was in the room with us. He’d asked to walk with me and of course, I had accepted. I couldn’t remember what we talked about but when we parted after an hour, all I wanted was to meet him again.
“He was visiting friends, was he not? Do you remember who?”