An Affair Without End (11 page)

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Authors: Candace Camp

BOOK: An Affair Without End
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“Me?” Camellia eyed her somewhat warily. “I’m fine.”

“Really?”

“Of course.” Camellia looked down, picking at an invisible piece of lint on her skirt. “I’m always healthy as an ox. Everyone knows that.”

“I wasn’t really speaking of your health. I mean the way you feel in here.” Vivian tapped her own chest. “You seemed a bit unhappy this afternoon.”

Camellia smiled in a determined way. “I’m very happy for Lily. She is ecstatic about marrying Neville. He isn’t the sort of man I would choose, but he seems right for Lily.” She shrugged.

“That’s all very well for Lily. But what about you? Are you happy?”

Camellia glanced at her. “I’d rather be back at Willowmere. I—the idea of a Season doesn’t appeal to me. All those parties and talking to people I don’t know. Trying to remember all the things I’m supposed to do and not do. I’m sure to make a mull of it one way or another. I don’t really care whether the people here like me, but I’m afraid I’ll do or say something that will make it harder for Lily. And it has been very kind of Cousin Oliver to do so much for us. I’m afraid I’ll be a disappointment to him.”

“Camellia . . .” Vivian reached out, laying her hand on the girl’s arm. “It’s not like you to be lacking in confidence.”

Camellia flashed her a grin. “You mean I tend to be full of myself?”

“No, not conceited. But you are not one to doubt yourself, either.”

The girl sighed. “I don’t doubt myself with things I’m used to. I know I can shoot well and ride well—Fitz will tell you that. It takes a lot to scare me. It’s just that I don’t know what to do here, and I don’t know why the things I say and do are wrong. I don’t want to hurt Lily in any way.”

“I think Lily will be just fine. She is already engaged, so she has two families standing behind her. And she, I think, will enjoy this life. You mustn’t worry unduly. You may make some stumbles along the way, but Eve and I will be there. We will help you out of your missteps.”

“I know. I suppose I’m being foolish. But I miss Willowmere. I miss my horse, and I wish I could ride. I don’t want to seem ungrateful, for I know that you are doing a lot for Lily and me, but I don’t enjoy shopping the way Lily does. It’s nice, at least for a little while, to look at the fashions and materials, but . . .” Camellia shrugged. “It doesn’t seem enough to keep one occupied.”

“You can ride in the park. It’s not the same, of course, but a number of people ride along Rotten Row.”

“Rotten Row?” Camellia let out a laugh. “It doesn’t sound very pleasant.”

“No, but it is the fashionable place to ride. I drive a phaeton in the park now and then. Why don’t I take you up with me one day? I think you would enjoy that.”

“Really?” Camellia’s interest sparked. “You drive it yourself?”

“Yes. Nor am I the only woman to do so.”

“I would enjoy that very much, I think.” Camellia smiled.

“Is that all that is troubling you?” Vivian asked carefully. “Boredom and missing Willowmere?”

“No,” Camellia admitted with a sigh. “Of course not. I can always find some way to alleviate boredom.” She cast
a laughing little glance at Vivian. “That is, perhaps, why I so often find myself in trouble.” She got up and moved restlessly across the room, stopping at the window to look out at the garden.

Vivian followed her. “Is it Lily’s engagement?”

Camellia glanced at her, astonished. “How did you know? Am I so obvious?” She frowned, her teeth worrying at her lower lip. “I have tried very hard not to let it show.”

“I doubt anyone else has seen it,” Vivian reassured her. “Or connected it to the engagement.”

“Am I a terrible person?” Camellia turned, and to Vivian’s surprise and distress, tears started in Camellia’s light gray eyes. “I love Lily, and I am happy for her. I truly am.”

“I know you are. But you cannot help but worry a little about yourself, can you?”

“That’s it.” Camellia sagged a little in relief. “You do understand, don’t you? I don’t know what I am going to do when Lily marries. I already miss Rose and Mary so much. All my life I’ve had my sisters around me. We’ve done everything together. I never had to worry about being lonely; there was never any chance. If I wanted to be by myself, I could go off for a few hours, but if I wanted company, there was always someone around. When Mama died and we came here, I still had my sisters. But now Rose and Mary are gone. I don’t know if I’ll ever see Rose again. Mary is not that far; we will visit, I know. But it’s not the same as living with someone.”

“I know. It’s not.”

“Mary won’t even be here this Season. In a few months Lily will be gone. She’s already half-gone, always writing to Neville and thinking about him or the wedding, and when she’s not doing that, she’s talking about her clothes for the wedding or the arrangements for the engagement party. We hardly ever just have fun together like we used to. And after
this engagement party, she’s going to leave with the Carrs. They want to show her to his grandmother, who lives in Bath, and then they are going to the Carrs’ estate. She’ll be gone a whole month! And that is what it’s going to be like forever after she and Neville are married.” Camellia let out another sigh. “I’m sorry. I know I am being selfish and horrid.”

“No, you’re not.” Vivian reached out and took Camellia’s hand. “There is nothing wrong with you. Anyone would feel the same in your position. You love Lily; the two of you are extremely close. How could you not miss her when she leaves—or not feel sad knowing she is about to leave?”

Camellia gave Vivian a somewhat watery smile. “It seems silly, given the way we squabble, but there’s nobody I love more.”

Vivian nodded. “I can’t pretend to know exactly what it’s like with sisters. I love my brothers, and Gregory and I are very close, but it isn’t the same as with sisters. Still, I know some of what you feel. I had close friends—Eve and Charlotte and one or two others. But after our debut, the others began to marry, one by one, and though we remained friends, it was never quite the same. They moved into a different world from me—a world of husbands and children and nurses and such. We did not stop being friends, but I didn’t see them as often, didn’t have those long talks anymore, sitting up late at night in our night rails, discussing everything under the sun.”

“Yes! That’s it exactly.” Camellia nodded. “That is what I will miss.”

“Yes, I’m afraid you will.” Vivian smiled and gave Camellia’s hand an extra squeeze. “But you will find, as I have, that your world is not empty just because they marry. You will still see them. When Mary has her baby, you will have a new person to love and dote on—for I am quite sure
that Mary’s baby will be perfect and not at all like my own niece and nephews, who are absolute imps.”

Camellia laughed. “I don’t know. That might very well be an apt description of any child Mary and Royce have.”

Vivian smiled. “And you will meet many people this Season; you’ll make new friends.”

“Will I?” Camellia regarded Vivian skeptically.

“Of course. You’ll find friends. Perhaps even a husband.” Vivian’s eyes twinkled as she added, “After all, you Bascombes seem to be quite accomplished at that.”

“I fear I am not like my sisters. I have little interest in marrying. It seems a lot of bother and sorrow to me. I can scarcely count the number of times I found Lily crying over Neville.”

“But surely that was a special circumstance.”

“Perhaps, but love was not a tranquil thing for Mary or Rose, either. Being in love seems to make everyone act peculiarly.” Camellia shrugged. “I have never met a man who made me feel giddy. Which is probably just as well, since I have never seen that men take to me.”

“What do you mean? You had many partners at the dance at my uncle’s house.”

“Yes, but not the number Lily did. Anyway, we were a curiosity there; everyone wanted to see if we could actually speak, I think. They may do the same thing here, so perhaps at first I shall have a number of dance partners, but not once they get to know me. I am too blunt and outspoken for most American men. I can imagine what British aristocrats will think of me.” Camellia shook her head. “Aunt Euphronia and the other relatives certainly don’t approve of me.” She paused, then frowned. “Will I have to spend much time with them?”

“I sincerely hope not, given that I will be with you. Unfortunately, however, Lady Euphronia is nigh inescapable
during the Season. I heard she was at the party I attended last night, but I fled before I had to see her. ’Tis true you will not ‘take’ with Lady Euphronia and the others like her. But there are many who
will
like you, just as I do—as Eve and Charlotte do. So you must not despair. Look at me; there are a number of people who regard me askance. But I have managed to survive their disapproval, and I found a number of people with whom I have a very pleasant time.”

“But you are a duke’s daughter.” Camellia gave her a skeptical look. “I cannot imagine that anyone would dare to ostracize you.”

Vivian shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure about that. But even if that is true, I can tell you that there are quite a few who are happy to gibble-gabble about me—I am shocking; I have no decorum. There are those who call me Marchester’s Hoyden.”

“Really?” Camellia grinned.

“Oh, yes. And worse, no doubt, but fortunately I have not been made privy to those appellations.” Vivian smiled. “Do not worry. If you hate your Season, you do not have to come back every year. I doubt Stewkesbury will insist; he dislikes the Season, too. And even though Lily gets married, you will still be her sister. You will spend time with her and Mary and Eve. And with me.” Vivian’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “I have no plans to marry, either. It is, as you said, a great deal of bother. You and I can become spinsters together. You must come live with me, and we’ll raise a number of cats.”

Camellia laughed. “I accept. But not cats. I like dogs much better.”

“Dogs it is, then.”

“Thank you.” Camellia hugged her impulsively. “You have made me feel much better. I promise I shall not continue in this weepy manner. I am not the sort who feels sorry for myself.”

“Everyone is entitled to a bit of it now and then.”

“Now I must go back or else Lily will ring a peal over me later for leaving her alone so long with Lady Carr.”

“Eve is with them.”

“But that is not the same. Lily needs someone whom Lady Carr will disapprove of more than she does Lily.”

Vivian smiled and bade the girl farewell. She watched as Camellia walked out the door; then, with a sigh, Vivian turned back to the window. She felt an unaccustomed touch of melancholy. No doubt it came from remembering her own loss as her friends had one by one gotten married and moved into other lives. As she had told Camellia, she had adjusted to a different relationship with her friends, but Vivian had not added that she was still now and then swept by loneliness.

She was aware that anyone who heard that statement would find it hard to believe, for Vivian was a social creature with a large circle of friends and acquaintances. She could nearly always be found at a rout or the opera or having dinner with friends. Seldom did she spend an evening alone, at least during the Season. But Vivian knew how easy it was to feel alone even when surrounded by people. Though she was not the sort to dwell on it, at times she wished for a closer relationship.

She had seen the looks that passed between Mary and Royce or Eve and Fitz, even the smile of quiet affection on Charlotte’s face when she gazed at her husband. But then Vivian would cast her eyes around at the men of the
ton
and realize all over again that she had no interest in entrusting her heart and life to any of them. While some women did have marriages of real and lasting love, they were in her experience the exceptions, not the rule. And the women were not
her
.

She had never been like everyone else she knew. Though
she suspected that Camellia had not really believed her when Vivian told her that she had not fit in with the
ton,
it was the truth. She had managed to get by better than Camellia would, but that was largely because of an upbringing that had instilled in her how she should behave. She had learned what to say, how to act, but she had always been aware that she had not
felt
as she should. Even in her family or among her friends, she had often felt different and alone.

Something inside her was restless. Conventions bored and even angered her. She regarded much of the conversation and many of the people of the
ton
as insipid. She knew that such statements would astonish those who knew her—and sometimes, even she herself wondered why she went to so many parties when she so often found them lacking. But she knew, deep down, that she was searching—for what, she was not entirely sure.

When she had once expressed such doubts to her sister-in-law, Elizabeth had assured her that what she needed was a husband and family. But looking at Elizabeth’s life, Vivian could only recoil at the thought. A faithless husband, love dissolved into quarrels . . . no, that seemed a far worse fate than the occasional touch of loneliness.

As Vivian gazed out the window without really noticing anything that lay in front of her, a dash of movement to the left caught her eye. She turned her head to see Pirate bound into the yard. She had to smile, watching his antics as he whirled and ran and jumped and barked. Then he came tearing back, and the Earl of Stewkesbury walked into Vivian’s view. He, too, was grinning at the dog’s gyrations. Pirate reached the earl and jumped straight up, wiggling his rear end ecstatically, then fell back down to the ground and crouched on his front legs, his hindquarters raised and the stub of his tail still wagging at full speed. He jumped forward, then jumped back and let out a sharp bark.

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