First Season / Bride to Be (15 page)

“You know very little of what Anabel thinks,” responded Christopher positively. He spoke without rancor, as if simply stating a truth, but the implications were as cutting as Norbury's. “And now, if you will pardon me. I do not wish to detain you.”

There was a slight sound from the staircase, as if one man had jostled the other, a scuffle, then silence. Anabel hurried onto the landing, her heart pounding.

They were facing each other halfway down the staircase, Christopher one step above. Their chests rose and fell rapidly, and both were glaring.

“Christopher!” said Anabel.

The tension broke. Norbury, though he looked furious, bowed very slightly and continued on his way. Hanford ran lightly up to her, a smile replacing his scowl. He had waited for this moment all night, anxious to see how she would receive him. “How are you? Is all well?”

She led him into the drawing room, hearing the door close behind Norbury as they sat down. “Yes. The children are still asleep after their adventure.”

“As you should be.” He was scanning her face. “You
are
tired.”

“Only a little.” It was true that now Christopher was here, she felt much less exhausted.

Their eyes met and held. They did not notice the lengthening silence. Each saw everything he needed to know, and Christopher's hand moved irresistibly to take hers. “Anabel,” he murmured at last.

She looked down. How could she have dreamed of preferring Sir Charles to Christopher? she wondered. It seemed so obvious to her now that she had been in love with Christopher for years. And Norbury's polished elegance faded into insignificance beside his warm appeal. She looked sidelong at his ruddy hair and startlingly blue eyes, at the set of his shoulders in his blue coat and the curve of his leg in his yellow pantaloons. Everything about him spoke to her as Norbury could not, never had. Why had she not seen it? How could she have been so foolish?

“I cannot help but speak,” said Christopher. “I vowed I would not, unless I had some sign from you. I love you, Anabel, with all my heart and soul.”

She took a trembling breath.

“I know you are promised to Norbury.” He waited, hoping she would interrupt. “I had thought…you have only to say one word, and I will be silent forever on this subject.” He bent to see her face. “Do you say it, Anabel?”

“No.” She struggled to speak more clearly. “I have made a dreadful mistake, Christopher. I…I don't know how I could have been so blind. I love you—I have for the
longest
time.”

His heart pounding with elation, Hanford swept her into his arms. Again Anabel felt that leap of response and marveled at the difference. It was some time before they spoke again.

At last they drew apart and smiled tenderly at each other. Christopher settled Anabel's head against his shoulder. “What are you going to do?”

“Break off the engagement. I would have today, but I was so tired. Tomorrow I will speak to him.”

He nodded. “I had almost despaired of being so happy.”

“I am sorry, Christopher. I—”

He put a hand gently over her mouth, shaking his head. “We won't talk of that. It is over now.”

She nodded, and he took his hand away. “I want to go home very soon. Are you ready to leave London?”

“Utterly. We can be married in our own parish church. Vicar Prentice will be delirious with joy.”

Anabel turned to him, smiling. “Is that an offer, Mr. Hanford?”

He looked surprised. “Hadn't I offered already?”

“You had not.”

“Good God!” Disentangling himself, he sank to one knee before her. “Anabel, would you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”

She put a hand to her breast and opened her eyes very wide. “Mr. Hanford! I don't know what to say to you.”

“The deuce you don't!” He rose and pulled her close again, speaking with his lips brushing hers. “Say yes.”

“Yes,” she murmured, and he kissed her slowly. Anabel drew her hands along his upper arms to his shoulders, filled with a great happiness. This was the way she should feel, she now knew, every fiber rejoicing in her love's touch. After long searching, she had finally discovered that truth.

When Christopher had gone, promising to return for dinner that evening, Anabel went upstairs to her bedchamber. She no longer felt like sleeping, and she bathed and put on a primrose sprig muslin gown with fluttering green ribbons. She wanted to sing as her maid brushed out her soft brown hair and dressed it in ringlets around her face. When she was dressed, she walked up to the schoolroom floor, listening for sounds of the children. They were up; she heard them in the nursery and turned that way, opening the door to find them at breakfast. William and Nicholas were eating with great concentration; Susan was slipping a forbidden treat to Daisy, who crouched on the floor beside her feet. They all, except Daisy, who was merely avid, looked happy. Anabel smiled, then sobered and walked into the room to stand over them, crossing her arms on her breast. Nurse, seeing her pose, retreated into the next room. William grimaced and put down his spoon. Nicholas, becoming aware of her presence late, froze, his spoon poised over his bowl. Susan looked up blithely. “Hello, Mama. Would you like some porridge?”

It taxed all Anabel's faculties not to laugh. She was feeling so happy that she could scarcely bear to scold the children. But they had been very naughty. “No, thank you, Susan,” she replied, keeping her voice and expression stern. “I wish to talk to all of you.”

The boys cringed.

“You know you have behaved very badly, and you will have to be punished.”

“I only went to see Uncle Christopher,” protested Susan. “We often do so at
home
.” She sounded accusatory.

“Not alone. And not without telling me where you are going,” answered Anabel. “And London is not home. You cannot wander about here as you can in our park.”

“I
know
,” replied the little girl with great feeling.

Anabel's lips twitched, and Nicholas saw it. “We are very sorry, Mama,” he said at once. “We will never do it again. We just thought we could find Susan before anyone noticed and bring her back.” He made a face at his sister. “We might have known we couldn't think as
she
does.”

“No one
asked
you to look for me,” retorted Susan. “I was perfectly fine.”

“It does not matter what you thought,” interrupted Anabel. “You all were at fault, and you all knew you were being naughty. For the next week you will have lessons in the afternoon as well as in the morning, and at the end of that time I will hear you recite what you have learned.”

The children groaned. Even Nicholas, who loved books, was not overfond of lessons.

“You will go out only when accompanied by Miss Tate, for a walk in the park.”

“But Uncle Christopher promised to take us riding again,” protested William.

Anabel thrilled at the name, but she said, “I think you have caused enough trouble for Christopher. What if he had not come after you?”

“We would be home by now,” muttered William, then subsided under his mother's frown.

“I want you to understand how serious the results of your misbehavior might have been,” she concluded. “You were very fortunate; you could have been hurt or lost. London is very large, and not all parts are safe. Do you see what I mean?”

Slowly William nodded. Nicholas was quick to do so. Susan pouted for a moment. “
I
knew exactly where Uncle Christopher's house was. I asked him before.” Under her mother's eye, she scowled, then shrugged. “I'm sorry.”

Anabel smiled. “Good. That is settled, then. And I may give you some good news.” All three looked up. “We are going home soon, perhaps in two weeks.”

Their faces brightened. “Truly, Mama?” said William.

“Truly. I think we have been in town long enough.”

“Hurrah!” replied William, leaping up.

“Did you hear that, Daisy?” said Susan, bending down. “We are going home. You will like it there.”

But Nicholas was thoughtful. “Is that man coming with us? Norbury?”

“No.” Anabel hesitated. She shouldn't say anything until all was settled, but she couldn't resist. “We won't be seeing him anymore.”

“Aren't you going to marry him?” asked Nick.

“No.”

“But you said you were.”

“I…changed my mind.” Anabel felt slightly awkward.

“Hurrah!” shouted William again, jerking the back of his brother's chair until he nearly dumped him on the floor. “Everything will be as it was again.”

Anabel debated whether to tell them about Christopher, but decided she should wait until she had spoken to Norbury. They would tell the children together, with no fear this time of complaints.

Nick and Susan had risen now, and the three of them were dancing around the room in a ring. Daisy, excited by this movement, streaked in and out between their feet, his claws scrabbling on the wooden floor. In one pass he managed to trip up both William and Nicholas, and the group collapsed in a confused heap, panting. Anabel laughed down at them, and they all grinned. “You had best finish your breakfast,” she said. “I expect Miss Tate is waiting for you in the schoolroom.”

There was another general groan, but they untangled themselves and returned to the table. “I will see you at dinner,” finished Anabel, turning to go. “Uncle Christopher is coming, so you will dine downstairs with us.” She shut the door to a general cheer.

“You see?” said Nick complacently when they were alone again. “I told you it would work.” He took a large bite of porridge.

“What?” William, too, concentrated on his breakfast again.

“My plan, of course.” The others stared at him. “Well, we are going home, are we not? And Mama is not to marry that Norbury.”

“Yes, but your plan had nothing to do with it,” answered his brother.

“What do you mean?”

“It's all because I ran away,” said Susan, her small face smug. “You were too cowardly, but I knew Mama would listen then.”

William snorted in disgust. “You are both ninnyhammers. It had nothing to do with either of you.” He ignored the clamor of protest this brought down upon him and ate his breakfast.

“If you know so much,” said Nick finally, “what did make Mama change her mind?”

William pondered, his spoon vertical in his fist. “I don't know
that
.”

The others made derisive noises.

“But I do know that Mama was different today.”

“Different?” echoed Susan.

“Yes. Something has happened. You could tell. I don't know what, but that is the reason we are going home, and I don't believe it had anything to do with us.”

“Stuff!” replied Susan, bending to offer Daisy a bit of bread. But Nick looked thoughtful.

The day passed quietly for the Goring household, seeming shorter because of the late start. Anabel stayed at home, sitting in the drawing room and pretending to write letters. She actually spent most of the afternoon simply rehearsing the events of the past few weeks and marveling over the outcome. Occasionally she worried about what she would say to Norbury, but since she did not have to face him until the morning, she usually put such thoughts aside. Christopher was much more often in her mind, and at these times a dreamy smile played about her mouth and she forgot everything but memories of what had passed between them.

Lady Goring and Georgina went out shopping late in the afternoon, returning only in time to change for their early dinner. Though Anabel had said nothing to her, Lady Goring was certain that there had been important developments. And the fact that Christopher Hanford was coming to dinner encouraged her greatly. She did not broach the subject, however, fearing to say something wrong and mar the delicate equilibrium she sensed. Mr. Hanford could be trusted to arrange things, she felt. She had been further impressed by his strength of character in the last few days.

Georgina was the first down that evening. She had changed quickly to escape the chatter of her maid, which was all of Mr. Hanford's heroism. Her emotions had been unsettled all day, since she had seen the serene happiness on Anabel's face, so unlike her previous hectic gaiety. Something had happened, she was certain, and it had made her own blunder last night insignificant. But she did not know what, and the mystery made her restless.

She knew that Christopher would never care for her. She had accepted it. But his fate was still very important to her; she thought of him a great deal of the time.

A movement caught her eye, and she started. She had been pacing the drawing-room carpet as she thought, and it was her own reflection in the glass that had attracted her attention. Moving closer, she surveyed it. This was not the Georgina Goring who had come to London. Her father would hardly recognize her. She had shed all of her plumpness by this time; the gray eyes that looked into the mirror seemed large, with unaccustomed depths. In her modish pink gown, with her blond hair dressed à la Diane by Lady Goring's maid, she seemed wholly changed. And it was only right, she thought, for she felt a completely different person, too. So much had happened to her since she came reluctantly up to town.

“Good evening, Miss Goring,” said a male voice from the door.

She whirled to find Hanford there, smiling at her. “G-good evening,” she stammered past a lump in her throat.

“You're looking very smart.” He came forward, gestured toward the sofa, and they sat down.

“Th-thank you.”

“I hope you have recovered from the alarms of last night?”

She nodded, then blurted out, “I am so sorry I didn't tell Anabel. I
tried
, but no one would listen to me. And then I fell asleep.” She hung her head. This wasn't the strict truth, but she was not going to mention Anabel's criticisms of him.

“It doesn't matter. Things turned out well in the end.” And I am grateful you did not speak, he added to himself. If Anabel had known the truth all along, she would not have been quite so happy to see me, and we might never have reached an understanding.

Watching his face, Georgina said, “Did they?” in a tentative voice.

Hanford met her eyes. He had done his best to be kind to this girl while showing her that his affections were firmly engaged elsewhere. He knew that her youthful infatuation with him was nothing more than that; it would fade soon. But he also remembered the painful throes of calf love. He felt no guilt, but there was pity in his gaze as he answered, “Very well. Anabel and I are going to be married, Miss Goring.”

“Oh!” Georgina blinked. She had not expected anything so revolutionary. “What about Sir Charles? I mean…”

“That is at an end.”

“Oh, good,” responded the girl before she could think. She flushed bright red. “Er…that is…”

Hanford laughed. “
I
certainly think so.”

“I never liked him somehow,” confided Georgina.

“Neither did I,” he replied feelingly.

They laughed together. “I wish you very happy. I know that you… I noticed…” She faltered. Christopher's confidences had made her feel very grown up; yet she didn't know what to say to him. Her own confused feelings seemed to tie up her tongue. She was glad for them. Mr. Hanford had received his heart's desire, and Anabel would be much happier with him than with Norbury. But she also felt a lingering, wistful love for him herself. If it had been she he offered for… She thrust this thought aside. There had been no question of that.

“You are a remarkable girl, Miss Goring,” added Christopher.

Looking up, she saw in his eyes knowledge of her feelings, and flushed again.

“You have true greatness of spirit, and someday you will be as happy as I am just now.” He smiled, hoping to reduce her confusion.

Georgina couldn't think what to say.

“Your first season has been remarkably eventful so far,” he continued in a lighter tone. “I wonder if you expected London to be so busy.”

“I didn't.” Taking his cue, Georgina spoke jokingly. “Indeed, I never imagined half the things I have done.”

“I hope you have been enjoying yourself.”

“Oh yes.”

They both turned as a footman came in. He held a silver salver on which reposed a folded sheet of paper. “A note for you, Miss Georgina,” he said. “The man is waiting for an answer.”

“For me?” She tore it open. “Oh, Lydia Mainwaring is holding a waltzing party tomorrow and particularly wishes me to come. I must write her at once.” She started out of the room, then remembered Hanford. “If you will excuse me a moment?” Her gray eyes were glowing.

“Of course. I shall be quite all right.”

With a smile, Georgina went out. Hanford sat gazing at the opposite wall, a thoughtful smile on his face as well. Georgina would soon forget him, it was clear.

“Mr. Hanford.” Lady Goring came in, and he rose to greet her. “How glad I am to find you here alone. I wanted to speak to you.”

He raised inquiring eyebrows.

“
What
has happened? I dare not ask Anabel, for fear of spoiling things, but I am agog with curiosity!”

He laughed. “What makes you think something has happened?”

She looked at him, and he laughed again. “If Anabel has not told you—”

“I believe I shall scream with vexation,” interrupted Lady Goring.

He relented. “We are going to be married.”

She clasped her hands before her. “Truly? And Norbury?”

“Anabel is to tell him tomorrow. I imagine that is why she didn't mention it. She wished to speak to him first.”

“Oh, I have never been so glad about anything. Does your sister know?”

Hanford looked surprised. “No. I was waiting until all was settled.”

“May
I
tell her?”

He stared at her.

“We have conspired together to match you and Anabel,” she explained, “and though our efforts came to nothing, I know her interest in the matter.”