“Miss Talbot, I have brought you a gift.” She placed a large round box in my lap. “I know it is soon after Father’s death, but I saw it and thought of your fair coloring and knew it was the right thing to do. Please tell me you love it. If you don’t I will get another, for I mean to give you something.”
I opened the box, and feeling ever more guilt, I wept when I saw the delightful bonnet it contained. It was the newest fashion, small and costly, and in a shade called Prussian blue. “Oh, Serenity. It is exquisite!” As I sat, stunned, she put it on my head, tied the bow, and begged Wallace for his approval, which he gave with a nod, watching us all the time as a cat would watch two mice at play. When he informed her that our next stop would be one of the harbormasters, she did not seem at all disappointed. She was not happy about my going away, she declared, but made me promise to return and to write, which I did with some reservation and a twinge at my promise to myself about honesty. Serenity insisted she was happy to drive about with us, her best friends, all evening.
At the harbor office, though, Wallace bade us both sit in the coach where we opened the shades to get the ocean air; foul as it was with fishy smell and oils, at least it was cooler. When he returned, he said, “Miss Talbot, your passage is arranged. You leave on the Aegean in six weeks’ time. She sails at high tide on June sixteenth or seventeenth. You must be here on the fifteenth.”
I sighed so deeply I almost fainted. Home. Ma. Two Crowns. At last, at last. “How long will the voyage take?” I asked. “How shall it be paid for? What—”
“About two months. And think nothing of it. Anything you want onboard is already paid for. You will of course need a chaperone.”
“And you arranged for me a cabin, not just a place in the hold?”
He laughed. “You have a cunning sense of humor, dear Miss Talbot.”
Serenity took my arm and we hugged each other. I was happier than I knew I could be. So many wonderful things in a single day. I looked at Wallace and thought, Oh, my blessed betrothed, thanked him with my eyes and a small smile. We pulled away from the Neck talking of any and every thing and nothing of import.
Two days later, the Spencer family sent to me a gift of a traveling trunk for my voyage. When next Wallace called, I found myself surrounded by the Roberts family, with no chance of speaking to him privately. A game of whist, an afternoon tea, and a light breeze though it threatened of rain later, we girls were aglow with happy chatter. It was Herbert who caused everything to change. He came to Wallace, smirk on his face and hands on hips, and demanded an audience. “I will speak with you, Master Spencer,” Herbert said, drawing himself up to his fullest.
Wallace said, “You address your elders as ‘mister,’ not ‘master.’ That is for boys. As yourself.”
“I say, sir. I am now the man of this family. I just intend to know if you are going to marry Miss Talbot.”
His sisters erupted in laughter. Serenity said, most condescendingly, “Herbert, that is not the type of question you ask an adult. You are far too impertinent.” Uneasiness settled upon us all, then. Wallace excused himself early, before dinner, and his empty place already set at table seemed a burning firebrand in the room, a thing we could not explain or condone.
Before the pudding came out, I excused myself claiming a headache, but in truth it was my heart that troubled me. I promised them I would be recovered by morning if allowed to retire early. I had never before been given to fits of dramatic anguish, such as was common in this family. I had witnessed America Roberts throwing herself upon her coverlets and weeping, or the twins clubbing the floor with fists and feet and felt ashamed of them, yet I felt compelled to do just that. I supposed they were excused by their youth for such villainy, and composed myself to dress for bed and then sit at my dressing table and cry. A soft tapping at the door gave me to sigh, for I had no wish to discuss my sorrow, could not do so, for I knew not why I was disconsolate. “Please enter,” I said.
Serenity opened the door. She had on her dressing gown of violet satin, the collar of which I had embroidered with lavish white and gold roses. “Why are you so disturbed? Was it because of what Herbert said? He is just a child, you know. You will find a love, someday. Wallace and I have been closest friends since we were children.”
I felt my resolve for honesty melt like candle wax. “My mother is my only hope. At least you have yours here to be with you in any sadness or joy, to help you.”
She made a sound, pursing her lips. “I never pictured Mother helping me. I hardly knew Father. He sat in his office and went to town. He treated us no better than he treated the servants. In truth I feel as if a great weight were lifted off my shoulders, not having to please him all the time when I never knew how.”
I wept anew. “That is so—” I meant to say pitiful, but stopped the word. “Sad. My father was heroic and kind. He would sooner wink at me than scold me. It pains me now that I ever gave him distress.”
“How sad for you.”