The Affairs of Harriet Walters, Spinster Page 7

  Harriet picked up her skirts and took Ash’s proffered hand, climbing up beside him. “Allow me,” he said. Grasping her about the waist, he lifted her off her feet and lowered her to the ground.

  “Thank you, Mr. Ash,” she said with a nod, enjoying the residual sensation of his fingers around her waist.

  Oliver grew tired from all of his running, and held the schoolmaster’s hand for the remainder of the walk. Harriet and Ash passed the time by discussing a travel book that she had just finished from the lending library; together they made up a list of all of the sights that they would like to see on the continent. As they reached the gate, stars began to pop out in the night sky, and Harriet could smell wood smoke trailing out of the school chimneys.

  “Good evening, Hubbard,” Ash said as they reached the gatekeeper. “Here is Oliver Jones, home from a jolly party at his aunt’s house.”

  “Aye, did you have good things to eat, young Oliver?” the elderly man inquired.

  “Very good,” the child replied with a yawn, “but I’m glad to be home now. I’m tired.”

  “I’m going to escort Miss Walters home before I turn in, Hubbard,” Ash said. Would you please see Oliver to the dormitory?”

  “It would be my pleasure,” Hubbard said. “Come along, young Oliver. Let’s get you out of the cold night air. Goodnight, Miss,” he said, touching his cap.

  “Goodnight, Miss,” Oliver echoed, glancing over his shoulder as Hubbard led him away.

  “Goodnight, Oliver, and good luck with the races next week,” Harriet called after him. She smiled and turned to Ash.

  “Shall we?” he said, proffering his arm. Together they ambled back down the drive and out into the lane.

  “He’s a good boy. You can see that his great-aunt dotes upon him,” Harriet said.

  “Yes, and he’s also very plucky. It’s hard on Oliver, being so small for his age, but he makes up for it in spirit. No one and nothing gets Oliver Jones down for very long.” Ash smiled. “When Oliver first came to the school, I was afraid that he might be bullied by some of the larger boys. You know the kind of thing that happens – allowances get taken or books get thrown into puddles. The first boy that tried it got a sharp kick in the shin for his trouble, and it wasn’t long before Oliver had put a great distance between him and his tormentor. His speed and agility are his best defences for now, but the sports master says that he will tutor Oliver in boxing when the boy gets a little bigger.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Harriet said. “Perhaps Oliver’s diminutive size will spur him on to great successes. I like to see determination rewarded, even though people do not always get what they deserve.”

  “Yes, unfortunately that is true.”

  “Of course, I’ve never had the problem of being small for my age. Just the opposite, in fact. My sister is three years older than I, but I was never able to wear her hand-me-downs. I’ve towered over her for most of my life.”

  “Really, Miss Walters?” Ash said, stopping beside her. “Everyone in my family is tall, but you don’t seem that tall to me.” He held his hand level with the top of his head; he was a good five inches taller than Harriet. The young lady smiled.

  They continued their walk in companionable silence before turning in at the end of Harriet’s street. Their proximity to her home seemed to inspire the schoolmaster to speak.

  “Miss Walters, there is something that I must say before I leave you tonight. I have avoided a particular subject out of cowardice, but I really must address it. I am referring, of course, to my behaviour after the lecture last Sunday. I’m embarrassed by the way I acted, and I feel that I owe you an apology.”

  “That is unnecessary, sir,” Harriet said, fervently wishing that he hadn’t brought up the topic.

  “Unfortunately, I cannot agree with you, although I do not wish to dredge up unpleasant memories for either one of us. However, I wish to apologize if anything I said or did made you feel uncomfortable. I assure you that my behaviour was abnormal.” Harriet nodded and looked away. “It would appear that the alcohol I drank before the lecture to keep my nerves under control had a perverse effect upon me afterward.”

  Harriet interrupted his speech. “Please do not apologize any longer, Mr. Ash. It was obvious that you were not a habitual imbiber.” They stopped on the walk before Harriet’s gate.

  “Thank you, Miss Walters. I was correct – you are perfectly amiable.” Ash’s face broke into a grin.

  “And you are very entertaining, Mr. Ash,” she said, smiling back at him.

  “Touché,” he responded, taking her arm again and escorting her to the door.

  Chapter Eleven

  The next day, Harriet was contemplating some muslin in the draper’s shop window when Mrs. Evans caught up with her. “Miss Walters, I have exciting news,” she said breathlessly. “My daughter, Diane, is coming for a fortnight’s visit before Christmas.”

  “How nice for you, Mrs. Evans. Will her husband be accompanying her?”

  “No, he’s unable to get away until the parliamentary break. He’s sponsoring a road bill in his riding that keeps him much occupied. Diane writes that Edward will probably not even notice her absence while she’s away. But I’m so glad that you two will finally have the opportunity to meet. I’ve written to her about you, and she is very much looking forward to knowing you.”

  “I will be delighted to meet her as well. When does she come?”

  “This Thursday. I plan to hold a dinner party for her the following evening. I hope that you and Edna will be able to attend?”

  “Of course, Mrs. Evans.”

  “Good. I’m also inviting the Campbells and the Thompsons. I don’t think that you have met them yet, but they’ve known Diane since she was a baby, and will be pleased to see her again. But, I must go. I have so many preparations to make. Give my regards to Edna.” Mrs. Evans hurried away, as did Harriet to tell her aunt the news.

  “So, Diane is back for a visit, is she? I’m glad that we had those new clothes made for you, Harriet,” was her aunt’s response. Indeed, Harriet's wardrobe had been much improved recently.

  The previous month, Harriet had caught her aunt studying her over the breakfast table. “Is something amiss, Aunt?” she asked. “Why are you looking at me so?”

  “It’s your dress, Harriet. I’ve never seen it before.” Harriet examined her gown, a plain dress cut from brown serge. It was sturdy and comfortable, and had received a lot of wear in her former life at Willoway.

  “What are you doing today, Harriet? Are you planning on going out?”

  “Yes, I’ve got a parish visit to make.”

  “In that dress?”

  “Well, yes. I often wore this when I went on charitable visits with Mother.”

  Aunt Edna looked at her askance. “That dress may have done while you were living in the country, but it won’t do in Rexton. Don’t forget, my girl, that what you wear reflects upon me. When you walk down the street, people will think, ‘There goes Edna Slater’s niece. Poor thing, she hasn’t anything better to wear.’ Well, it won’t do, Harriet. I won’t have my niece dressing like a pauper. After breakfast, we’re going upstairs to examine your gowns, now that you’ve put off mourning.”

  “But, Aunt, I don’t have the money to buy new clothes.”

  “Of course you don’t. I’ll pay for them. My dressmaker is both reasonable and clever. She squeezes the value out of every penny, plus she knows a thing or two about dressing a woman to her advantage. You’ll be in good hands with Mrs. Hensley. Now, finish that toast and let’s go upstairs.”

  As it turned out, Aunt Edna rejected the majority of Harriet’s gowns, saying that they weren’t fit to be seen outside of the house. She ordered the carriage and carried Harriet off to the dress-maker’s shop. Mrs. Hensley was a middle-aged woman with comfortable proportions who dressed to impress the village. That is, she did not wear the latest London fashions, but her clothes were well-cut, stylish, and functional. Before she knew it, Harri
et was standing in her shift in a curtained-off corner of the back room being scrutinized by Mrs. Hensley and Aunt Edna. The shop owner circled Harriet slowly, while Aunt Edna perched on a nearby stool.

  “Well, what do you think?” the aunt asked.

  Mrs. Hensley pursed her lips. “Not bad. She’s very tall, that’s true, and thin, but that’s not a bad thing, considering today’s high-waisted fashions. The bust isn’t much, but we can add to it with pleats and tucks. We’ll add a little fullness to the hips with a padded petticoat, too. Don’t worry, Miss Walters. I’ve given many a girl a shapelier figure than nature provided, believe me. Her colouring is not too bad. Her hair’s a nice rich brown, but her skin is a little ruddy. We’ll stay away from colours that heat up her complexion. Perhaps a little powder on those cheeks? Altogether, I think that we can make something of her. Now, how many gowns were you thinking of ordering, Mrs. Slater?”

  On the night of the dinner party, Harriet met her aunt in the sitting room wearing a new pelisse cut from a handsome dark green velvet and embellished with black braid. Beneath it, her white muslin gown was trimmed with pearl cord and had long, sheer sleeves. Grace had dressed her hair with pearl rope to complement the dress, and the added fullness made Harriet’s face appear less angular. Aunt Edna wore a stylish black satin gown with a fox tippet and a black satin cap trimmed with feathers. Harriet had never seen her aunt dressed so fashionably before, and said as much.

  “We must look our best tonight, Harriet. Diane always wears the latest fashions and looks very elegant. We do not want to look like paupers by comparison.”

  “No, Aunt, I’m sure we do not.” Indeed, Harriet thought that she looked rather well that evening.

  When Rogers greeted them at Mrs. Evans’ door, Harriet noted that he was dressed in formal livery. He preceded them down the hallway to the drawing room and announced them to its occupants. The other guests had already arrived, and were gathered around Mrs. Evans and a lady seated beside her on the couch. Harriet thought that the lady was the most beautiful creature she had ever seen. Her hair was golden blond, her complexion a creamy ivory with softly-tinged pink cheeks, and her eyes a sparkling green. She wore a white satin frock gathered over a matching petticoat, the hem and capped sleeves trimmed with pleated tulle, and white kid gloves drawn up over her elbows. Wisps of bang and little side curls peeked out from beneath a turban trimmed with matching white tulle and ostrich feathers. The lady turned to note the new arrivals and smiled graciously at Harriet and her aunt. Mrs. Evans rose to welcome them.

  “Edna, Miss Walters, do come in. Miss Walters, this is my daughter, Mrs. Fitzwilliam.” Harriet curtsied as the exquisite young woman nodded and extended a graceful hand.

  “Do come and sit beside me, Miss Walters,” Diane said. “I’ve been so looking forward to meeting you. Mother has written about what a darling you are. You have certainly livened up Rexton for her.” Harriet, who felt like a giant towering over Diane, was happy to take Mrs. Evans’ place on the sofa.

  Mrs. Evans added, “Miss Walters, let me introduce you to our other guests. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, this is Miss Walters, Mrs. Slater’s niece. Mr. Campbell is a retired Member of Parliament.” Harriet nodded to an intense-looking man with streaks of silver running through his red hair and beard. His lady was tall and dark-haired, with gimlet grey eyes.

  “And this is Colonel Thompson and Mrs. Thompson.” A trim, grey-haired man with a kindly smile bowed to her, his wife a motherly-looking woman.

  “Edna, I was just telling Mrs. Thompson how much you enjoyed the new cake Cook made,” Mrs. Evans said, drawing Harriet’s aunt into conversation.

  Once the others had taken their seats, Diane turned to Harriet. “Miss Walters, how are you enjoying Rexton? I understand that you’ve been here for three months already.”

  “Very much, Mrs. Fitzwilliam. It has a pretty prospect, and it's not very far from my childhood home.”

  “I agree. Rexton is a lovely village, and very restful. I enjoy escaping the crowds and grime of London to visit mother here once or twice a year. London is such a lively place, but one must be at one’s best there, which can be a strain. Unfortunately, my visit must be brief this time. I have only a fortnight free before my husband is released from the House and my son returns home from university for the Christmas holidays.”

  Harriet was amazed. “Pardon me. Your mother told me that you had a son, but she didn’t say that he was in university. I can hardly believe that you have a son that age.”

  Diane dimpled and placed her hand upon Harriet’s. “You are a darling! Yes, I have a grown son, although I did marry quite young. But tell me, Miss Walters, have you been to London yet?”

  “Not yet, Mrs. Fitzwilliam, although I do hope to go someday. There is so much culture to appreciate in London.”

  “True, although I find that once one has visited the attractions, one hardly ever goes there again. The crowds can be so tiring. No,” she said, looking around the room, “I find life in the country much more to my taste.”

  “I often find that the opinion of people who are not obligated to live in the country,” Harriet said with a smile to soften her words.

  “Perhaps you are right. It is easy to say one prefers life in the country when one has a life full of variety back in the city. When you do visit London, Miss Walters, you must promise to stay with me. I would enjoy showing you some of London’s treasures. Someone as jaded as I can enjoy them all over again through the eyes of a newcomer.”

  “Thank you, that would be wonderful.”

  “Of course,” Diane said, patting her hand. “Now, please catch me up on the latest gossip. Is your aunt still doing battle with the boys from the grammar school?”

  Harriet found it easy to talk with Diane, who spoke as easily as if they were old friends, and they chatted until dinner was announced. Once in the dining room, Harriet found herself seated beside the intimidating Mr. Campbell. Fortunately, Diane was seated across the table from her, so she didn’t feel too uncomfortable when Aunt Edna and Mrs. Evans took their places at the opposite end. Harriet struggled to converse with Mr. Campbell, but conversation faltered during the fish course when the gentleman began to lecture her on Scottish national independence. Fortunately, Diane joined in with an amusing anecdote about a fishing holiday that soon had the fierce gentleman laughing.

  “Diane, do you expect me to believe that you were standing in the middle of a cold stream at seven o’ clock in the morning, the mist heavy upon the water, trying to catch a fish? Faith, girl, your servant would not have rolled you out of bed by then.”

  “Normally that would be true, Mr. Campbell, but in this instance, I hadn’t gone to bed yet. I borrowed a pair of wading boots from Fitzwilliam, and we all went out to catch our breakfast. And I caught the biggest trout of all, I’ll have you know!”

  “Ah, I know a fish tale when I hear it,” he replied, slapping his knee with laughter. Harriet gazed admiringly at Diane. Not only was she beautiful and charming, but kind as well. Diane must have seen her struggling to talk with her neighbour, and had taken pity on her. Harriet was grateful to be acquainted with such an exceptional woman.

  The evening was over before Harriet knew it. On the carriage ride home, she laid her head on the back of her seat and gazed up at the starry night sky. “What a wonderful evening, Aunt. I had such a splendid time.”

  “Yes, you seemed to be enjoying yourself. What did you think of Diane, I wonder?”

  “She is marvellous – beautiful, engaging, and witty.”

  “Yes, she is that.”

  Something in her aunt’s tone made Harriet gaze at her inquiringly. “You speak as if you do not approve of Mrs. Fitzwilliam, Aunt.”

  Aunt Edna shook her head. “Don’t forget that I’ve known Diane since she was a baby. She grew up to be a beguiling creature whom everyone admires, but it would take more than that to impress me.”

  “She was very kind to me tonight.”

  “Yes, but it cost her not
hing. That’s not to say that I don’t enjoy Diane’s company, and you should, too, while it lasts. You’ll not find anyone more amusing than Diane, and she is the apple of her mother’s eye. But I’m always glad when her visits end, and I can see Mabel alone again.”

  Harriet held her tongue and said nothing more in Diane’s defence, but she wished that her aunt would be more generous in her opinions.

  Before they left that evening, Aunt Edna and Harriet made an agreement to meet Diane and her mother at church the following Sunday, to be followed by refreshments at Aunt Edna’s house. When Sunday came, Harriet and her aunt arrived at the church first. From her vantage point near the front, Harriet could see how faces brightened as Diane walked by their pew or stopped to chat. Diane continued past her mother’s stall, however, to stop next to Aunt Edna’s.

  “I hope you don’t mind, Mrs. Slater, but wouldn’t it be cosier to share?” Diane asked. “May I sit beside you, Miss Walters?”

  “Of course,” Harriet said, making room for both ladies. Even the sober Reverend Simons beamed down at Diane from the pulpit and was most solicitous in greeting her afterward on the church stairs.

  Harriet was waiting her turn to greet the reverend when Mr. Ash approached, hat-in-hand, to wish her a good morning. Harriet had not seen him since Mrs. Higgins’ party the previous Sunday, and so much had happened to catch up on since then.

  “I had to go back to our pew to retrieve one of the boys’ jackets, or I might have missed you this morning, Miss Walters,” he said.

  “I’m glad that you did. Tell me, how did Oliver fare in the races last week?”