Before the Season Ends (43 page)

When the door to the parlour opened, Mr. Mornay shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Ariana walked in, closed the door behind her, and stood with her back against it, looking at Mr. Mornay with a positively angelic expression on her face. She was looking radiant this morning, the epitome of a peaceful, rested soul. Mr. Mornay’s expression froze. He would not have been surprised to find her cross, morose, affronted, or insulted. But to find her gazing at him fondly, almost foolishly, was not something he was prepared for.

Seeing the look on his face made Ariana smile all the more, and then she walked over to him, stretching out both her hands to him. “My dearest!”

He took her hands firmly within his own. He lifted them, kissed them one by one, and then, overcome by this warm reception, pulled her impulsively up against him and kissed her, and Ariana sweetly kissed him back.

Afterward she removed herself from his embrace and took his hand. “Let us sit down and talk.”

He followed her and sat across from her, but on the edge of his seat, so they were not far apart. Ariana looked at him a moment, and said, “My dear sir, I have finally understood what must be done. So we can be married.”

“Indeed? I am eager to hear it!” He smiled. Ariana was so calm, so in charge of herself, and of him. She was beautiful and sweetly affectionate and she had said they would be married. This was quite a bit more than he had dared hope for this morning.

“Indeed.” She looked at him questioningly. “It remains only to be seen if you will comply with the necessity of what must be done.”

He seized her hands once more. “I am at your service, my young love. Or should I say, at your mercy?”

“I recall saying those very words to you, once. When you came and rescued me from the countess!” Her eyes shone with the memory.

“But now you are rescuing me.”

“I am so glad!” she breathed. “And it is so simple! Why I did not think of it sooner, I cannot know, but here it is. You will take yourself to my father’s house in Chesterton and remain there to learn and study our faith, until he sends you back for the wedding.”

Mr. Mornay’s expression sobered at once. “But what is the point, Ariana? Why should I leave you now, if we are to wed? I have no objection to meeting your family, indeed, I look forward to it. But I cannot fathom this request.”

She was directing a patient look at him. “Because, my dear, Papa will instruct you on precisely what is between us. He is a much better tutor than I, and he will introduce you to the writings of George Whitefield, Martin Luther, John Wesley, and Mr. Wilberforce—”

“Wilberforce? You mean the abolitionist? I’ve read his writings.”

“Others, then. Calvin, Matthew Henry, even Augustine.”

“Ariana, I am not illiterate!”

“No, but the point is to read under the tutelage of my papa, and when you are ready he will send you back to me for the wedding. I have absolutely no doubt of this.”

He leaned back in his seat, and looked at her quizzically. “So this is what’s afoot.”

She nodded.

“And this, you are certain, will settle the matter for you?”

She nodded emphatically.

He lapsed into thought for a minute. “Is this arrangement the only way I can satisfy you?”

“I’m afraid so.”

These words were grave ones to him, for he felt in his heart it would be far too beneath him to agree to her scheme. He proposed another possibility. “I suspect you are equally capable as your father in these matters.”

But Ariana was prepared for qualms. “My dear sir, when I saw you last night I realized the importance of your having excellent instruction. I assure you, my father is a learned man and will not fail you for good conversation. In addition, I am certain he will endeavour to enlarge your acquaintance among other Christians, many of whom you will find utterly worthwhile. I have no opportunity of doing that here in London, where I have only recent and shallow acquaintances.”

He sat forward and rubbed his hands together. “Ariana, I came to apologize for last night.” He paused, choosing his words. “What you saw was not a pretty sight, I grant. But I am not accustomed to behaving in that manner. It is not something I make a practice of.”

“Please understand I am not condemning you for what I saw. I certainly do not approve, but that is something else. I am concerned with your welfare, believe me, but I also know that if you’ll do this… well, I won’t have to…lose you.” Her last words were wistful, as was the expression on her lovely face.

Moreover, the second they left her lips Mornay knew he would go. Her eyes, large and brilliant at all times, were especially so now with her future in the balance. “Will you allow the banns to be published in my absence?”

“If you have not returned in a fortnight, then yes, I shall. You may hear them yourself in Chesterton since they needs must be read in my home parish.”

“Do you really anticipate I shall need so long a stay?”

“I cannot say.”

His gaze fell to the window for a moment while he considered what to do. Ariana had thought he might request banns and had decided
to allow them. She was certain his heart was not shut to God, so that having the banns published would cause no dilemma. Was this not the reason the Lord had placed upon her that sense of urgency? So she would witness Phillip at his worst and finally come upon the solution for their problem?

“I see you have given the matter a deal of thought,” he ventured.

“Yes. But I must confess the idea did not originate with me.”

He looked at her questioningly. “Who—”

She leaned forward, and he was leaning forward, so their faces were close. Smiling, she whispered, “God! It was His idea, I promise you!”

He stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded.

“Is this why you called upon me at my house?”

Silence for a moment.

“Not exactly; though again, upon my word, it was a divine inspiration!”

“I could probably describe it quite differently,” he murmured dryly. “But why did you come? May I ask?”

She looked down, feeling suddenly shy.

“To pray with you and—to affirm my love for you.”

“You sweet angel!” he uttered, sitting up. He grasped both her arms with his much stronger ones, pulling her completely out of her seat and onto his lap. “Though you insist upon running my life, you are still my angel!” They were both smiling from ear to ear in this manner and looking at each other idiotically when Mrs. Bentley knocked and let herself in. She couldn’t bear, any longer, not knowing what was happening.

Ariana slipped back into her own seat, but Mrs. Bentley recognized what she had seen. She stopped, overjoyed at the unmistakable evidence of a happy conclusion and then rushed forward.

“Oh, my dearest Ariana! My dear, dear, Mr. Mornay! I am overcome! Upon my word, I am overcome with delight for both of you!”

T
he first letter to arrive without hindrance from Chesterton expressed everything Ariana expected. Outrage over the thefts and the invasion of privacy, and concern regarding her general safety in London altogether. If letters were not safe, could people be so? There was of course curiosity regarding Mr. Mornay, coupled with a firm refusal to sanction the wedding without hearing from Ariana, first. The notes from Mama and Alberta were almost entirely pleas for more information about the mysterious Mr. Mornay. When she had folded the papers again, she looked down at the letters in her hands with a little smile.

“Soon, my dear family. Very soon you shall know all about him.”

Mrs. Bentley was furious about her brother’s refusal to endorse the wedding, but her disposition improved greatly when she learned Mr. Mornay was already en route to Chesterton. (She interpreted it to mean the Paragon was intent on confronting Ariana’s father, and felt certain he could only succeed.)

To distract her niece while she waited for Mornay’s return, Mr. Pellham took Ariana to the long-anticipated British Museum. Mrs. Bentley cried off, but Ariana eagerly went, prepared to take notes to send to her family. From the moment they entered the building, she was accosted by acquaintances. Mr. Pellham was gracious and
amusing, even when Ariana began to despair of ever truly seeing the exhibits, but she had to marvel at his social transformation. True to his word, he no longer scorned fashionable society.

In fact, as she told her aunt later, he was an immediate hit, and had even received invitations of his own. Mrs. Bentley was so delighted she could only coo, “Oh, Randolph!” and wipe a nonexistent tear from her eyes with her handkerchief.

When another letter came for Ariana from Chesterton, she was trembling with anticipation as she opened it. After initial greetings, her father finally got to the point that interested her most: Mr. Mornay. He wrote:

My commendation for sending us your suitor. We have received Mr. Mornay gladly and your mother already quite dotes on him. We all do, in fact. The girls were wary of him at first, but now are smitten. He does not address Alberta often, but if he does, your older sister blushes. I am myself not immune to his charm and we can easily understand how you came to favour him.

The rector has met your betrothed (a new man, you know, for Mr. Hathaway exchanged his living for another—to the general satisfaction of all, I believe), and we have had him to dinner three nights out of four, for he and Mr. Mornay enjoy each other’s company. You can be sure Mr. Timmons will expound upon the necessity of a personal faith to anyone’s satisfaction. I have enjoyed sharing many of the volumes on my shelves that are dearest to my heart with Mr. Mornay, and he displays a pleasing interest in these tomes. They are all, as you know, concerned with matters of the faith. Continue to pray for him, my dear. He is a worthy man.

Do write him; he asks for it. And your mother, as well. Give our regards to my sister. I am,

Yr loving Papa

Ariana was glowing with satisfaction after reading the note, and her aunt noticed.

“Why do you not take the carriage and call upon your friend, Miss Herley?” she suggested.

“Miss Herley, yes,” Ariana said. “I should like that very much. Thank you, Aunt.”

Ariana realized she was now in high favour with her relation. When Mrs. Bentley heard the banns could be published shortly, every last bit of hardness about her had vanished. She had become as compliant as lamb’s wool in any matter regarding her niece. And Ariana’s privileges had been steadily increasing. She knew as soon as her aunt suggested she use the carriage, that it would be hers for the taking from then on, as long as her aunt wasn’t using it. She experienced a thrill of freedom, even though it was not quite the independence of, say, Lady Longbottom, who always drove her own little gig, led by two delicate ponies. Or that of the young bucks who sported the latest four-in-hand. No, she did not do her own driving, and still used a coachman. But she could go unaccompanied if she chose, and that alone was something.

Ariana was warmly received at the Herleys’ and Lavinia insisted she send the carriage home and stay with the family for the day. It was not difficult to persuade her, for the Herleys were a boisterous family and she enjoyed the change from the staid walls at Hanover Square. It reminded her of home.