Miss Dower's Paragon (2 page)

“I am sorry, Mama. But I cannot do so,” said Evelyn.

Mrs. Dower dissolved into tears. But even so, she continued to present her pleas.

Evelyn was very fond of her mother and she was not entirely immune to Mrs. Dower’s unhappiness. However, she remained firm in her decision and was in hopes of bringing her mother to a proper understanding of her feelings. But to all of her logical presentations, Mrs. Dower burst into fresh tears and took renewed recourse in her handkerchief.

Mrs. Dower’s liveliest dread seemed to be what Lady Pomerancy would do, and nothing Evelyn could say could disabuse her of the notion that somehow Lady Pomerancy would ruin her social standing.

An hour after she had first entered the room and learned of her mother’s astonishing settlement of her future, Evelyn realized that she was not making any ground with her persuasions. She broke off abruptly, saying, “Mama, it is obvious to me that you are too overwrought to discuss this matter with any rationality. Perhaps on the morrow, after you have had a night to sleep on it—”

“I shall not sleep a wink!” declared Mrs. Dower tragically, taking refuge again behind her thoroughly dampened handkerchief.

Evelyn sighed, “Nevertheless, I think it is best that we postpone further discussion until the morning. We are both tired and cross and have been unkind to one another.” She bent to kiss her mother good night and left the room.

But the morning did not bring the agreement that Evelyn had hoped for. Mr. Hawkins sent in his card as the ladies were finishing breakfast, and Evelyn had the servant deny her to the visitor. Mrs. Dower made it plain that she was thoroughly unhappy and disappointed, while Evelyn attempted yet again to explain how her pride would not allow her to accept the manner in which Mr. Hawkins had been handed over to her.

Neither lady gave ground that day, or the next, or the next. A miserable fortnight passed during which Mrs. Dower resumed her tearful pleadings at every opportunity.

Finally, Evelyn could stand no more of the way that Mrs. Dower dragged herself about from room to room, sighing and sending reproachful glances in her daughter’s direction. Mrs. Dower had even eschewed her usual social calls and denied herself to her friends, insisting to Evelyn that she was too heartsick to bear any entertainment and that she dreaded the possibility of receiving word of Lady Pomerancy’s displeasure.

In the end, Evelyn reluctantly agreed to receive Peter Hawkins.

At once, miraculously, Mrs. Dower’s tears dried, her woebegone countenance brightened, and she tucked away her damp handkerchief into her sleeve. “Now I may be comfortable again. You are such a good daughter to me, dearest Evelyn.”

Evelyn eyed her parent in some resentment. A martial light flashing in her eyes, she said, “I warn you, Mama! I have agreed to receive Mr. Hawkins, but that is all.”

“Yes, dearest, I do understand,” Mrs. Dower said reassuringly. “Now I shall just send round a note to Mr. Hawkins.”

Evelyn sighed and shook her head, even as the smallest of resigned smiles touched her lips. It was useless to remain annoyed with her mother when that lady was completely oblivious to one’s aggravation.

Chapter Two

Thus, Evelyn came to be in the garden reluctantly awaiting the approach of Mrs. Dower and Mr. Peter Hawkins. Ever since she had agreed to the meeting, she had had grave reservations of the wisdom of it. However, she had pledged her word and there was no possible alternative now, she thought, as the couple reached her. However, she had not bound herself to be pleasant.

“Oh, here you are at last, Evelyn. Only see who I have brought to see you,” said Mrs. Dower.

Evelyn inclined her head in a manner reminiscent of an uppity dowager. With a cool smile, she gave two fingers to the gentleman and acknowledged his existence. “Mr. Hawkins.”

The young lady’s glacial tone could not be considered to be encouraging or welcoming, but, despite Mrs. Dower’s patent dismay, Mr. Hawkins did not appear to notice anything amiss in his reception. He bowed gravely over Miss Dower’s hand.

Evelyn was disgusted but unsurprised when the gentleman did not retain his hold on her hand for an inappropriate length of time, but instead immediately released her fingers. She certainly could not have expected anything more imaginative from a gentleman who had come to offer his suit in obedience to his grandmother’s wishes, she thought waspishly.

Mr. Hawkins looked down into Miss Dower’s lovely face, his gaze both searching and hopeful. “Miss Dower, I find you in pleasant surroundings, indeed. It is a fine day to be out of doors in all nature’s new splendor.”

Evelyn sniffed but did not deign to reply. At the last moment she had fled to the garden, preferring to receive Mr. Hawkins there rather than in the small parlor. She had thought she would burst with her seething emotions, and even though she had ignored the beauty of the garden, it had nevertheless provided a soothing balm to her exacerbated spirit.

After throwing her daughter an anxious glance, Mrs. Dower said hurriedly, “Yes, indeed! The garden is already giving promise of the fine flowering to come. I am sure the good reverend has mentioned to me a score of times his opinion that it is to be an excellent year for his roses.”

Mrs. Dower threw another glance at her daughter, taking particular note of the mutinous light smoldering in the girl’s eyes. It obviously would be for the best to have the matter done with as quickly as possible, and she rushed on. “But we shall not spend another moment idling on about gardening, if you please, Mr. Hawkins, for I know that you are anxious to speak to dearest Evelyn on a particular topic. I shall step aside for just a few moments to give you privacy.”

Mr. Hawkins looked faintly surprised and even a shade disapproving. “I am sure that is not at all necessary, Mrs. Dower. What I am come to say is most properly directed to Miss Dower in your presence.”

Evelyn lifted a delicate brow, murmuring, “Come, Mr. Hawkins. Surely I am not so intimidating a personage as that.”

Mrs. Dower uttered a soft murmur of distress.

Mr. Hawkins appeared taken aback. “Why, I had no such feelings at all, Miss Dower. Of course I would not think anything so disrespectful of one whom I hold in the most reverential regard.”

“Very prettily said, Mr. Hawkins,” said Mrs. Dower. Hidden from the gentleman in the folds of her skirt, she twitched her hand at her daughter.

Evelyn ignored her mother’s urgent signal, and with a bright, brittle smile, she said, “Mercy, Mr. Hawkins. I am overcome, indeed, at such an exquisite compliment.”

Mrs. Dower uncertainly eyed her daughter. All too readily she recognized the danger signals flying in her daughter’s manner, and her heart bled for the poor unsuspecting gentleman. She wavered in her intention to leave the young couple alone. “I suppose—perhaps I shall do better to speak to the gardener another time.”

“Pray do not put off your intention on my account, Mama,” said Evelyn cordially.

Mrs. Dower sighed in defeat. “You shall call to me when I am needed, Evelyn dearest.”

“Of course, Mama, though perhaps it will be Mr. Hawkins who shall feel in need of succor,” said Evelyn.

Mr. Hawkins smiled. It was a smile of great charm, creating the tiniest quirk at one corner of his firm mouth.

Evelyn had once thought his to be the most fascinating smile in all England, and even now, at the height of her wounded pride, she found that she must harden her susceptible heart against it.

“You have a droll sense of humor, Miss Dower. I had not appreciated it before, I am sorry to say.”

“Hadn’t you?”

There was something in Evelyn’s bright eyes and flippant voice that strongly reminded Mrs. Dower of her late husband when he had been in the throes of a towering temper, and that finally spurred her to action. With a hastily murmured word, she retreated in a most cowardly fashion.

“May I presume so far as to share your bench, Miss Dower?”

Evelyn inclined her head, still maintaining her haughty air. With magnificent indifference, she said, “As you wish, Mr. Hawkins.” He seemed impervious to her snub, and to her fury seated himself beside her. Evelyn gave a faint sniff and lifted her nose as though she scented something faintly obnoxious. She stared straight ahead, presenting him with only her profile.

Mr. Hawkins cleared his throat, then said with a grave air, “Miss Dower, I am fully cognizant of the maidenly confusion a young lady of delicate sensibilities must feel upon entertaining an interview such as this. If your father had been alive, I would certainly have applied to him and therefore spared you the awkwardness of our present meeting. Indeed, that happy conclusion is what I had hoped for when Lady Pomerancy approached Mrs. Dower.”

“Pray do not give it another thought, Mr. Hawkins. My mother persuaded me of the necessity of receiving you. I am quite resigned to it, I assure you,” said Evelyn, bestowing upon him an artificial smile.

Mr. Hawkins appeared insensitive to her heavy insult. Instead, an expression almost of relief crossed his face. “I am happy to hear you say so, Mrs. Dower. I was afraid of offending you with my boldness.”

Evelyn positively stared at the gentleman.

The thought crossed her mind that he was an idiot, but it was almost as instantly dismissed. Intelligence and humor enlivened his handsome countenance, while his vivid blue eyes regarded her with a smile in their depths. That left her with the uncomfortable suspicion that he was making game of her. “I assure you, Mr. Hawkins, I am not offended by your boldness,” she said warily.

Mr. Hawkins’s mouth quirked in its beguiling fashion. “I am glad of that.” He gently took one of her hands and lifted her fingers in tender, reverential salute.

At the touch of his lips, Evelyn felt a tingling sensation that sped from the tips of her fingers to her heart. She snatched free her hand. Pink flags flew in her cheeks. She was furious with herself. How
could
she be so affected by this mawkworm, this handsome pattern card!

Of course, it was true that she had thought herself in love with him for years, and particularly in the past twelvemonth. Mr. Hawkins was everything a young lady could desire in a gentleman. He was tall and well set-up, with a breadth of shoulder and an athletic build that were the envy of lesser men. His countenance was pleasant and his voice was pleasing to her ears. Whenever they had chanced to converse, she had been struck by his thoughtful intelligence.

If Mr. Peter Hawkins had applied to her under any other circumstances, she would gladly have accepted his suit and counted herself fortunate above all others.

However, that had not been her happy fortune. Instead, he had offered for her hand at his grandmother’s bidding, thus killing any romantic standing that he had once held with her.

Mr. Hawkins apparently mistook the outward signs of her fury for maidenly blushes, for he said contritely, “I have presumed too much. I apologize for my forwardness, Miss Dower.”

Evelyn all but ground her teeth. She did not look at him for fear he would read the contempt in her eyes too soon. She pleated her skirt between her fingers. Her voice trembled. “Mr. Hawkins, may we please come to the point of your visit?”

“Of course, Miss Dower. I understand completely your wish to be done with what must be a most uncomfortable business,” said Mr. Hawkins. He gently recaptured one of her hands, forcing her to raise her eyes in a quick glance. “Miss Dower, I have conveyed a formal offer for your hand to Mrs. Dower. Your delightful parent has given me encouragement to hope that such an offer is not entirely distasteful to you.”

Evelyn faced the gentleman seated beside her, intending to reject him without mercy. But when she met his eyes she found she could not be as brutal as she had intended. There was a shyness in his hopeful expression that made him look very much like an expectant puppy. Evelyn hesitated, then said quickly. “Mr. Hawkins, I do not think I can accept your suit.” She drew back her hand and laced together her fingers in her lap. Despising herself for cowardice, she yet glanced up to gauge his reaction.

Mr. Hawkins appeared so crestfallen that she took even greater pity on him, though she did not understand why she should do so after being the recipient of such an insult. “Actually, I am not interested in anyone’s suit at the moment. I—I am just come out of the schoolroom, you see, and I have not been presented yet...”

Evelyn let her voice trail off, wondering at herself. She had not meant to excuse her rejection in any way, and yet she had done so. She frowned, worrying at her lip as she reflected upon her inexplicable behavior.

“I understand you, of course.”

Her eyes flew to his face. “Do you?” she asked, startled. How he could do so when she did not understand it herself was beyond her comprehension.

Mr. Hawkins smiled down at her, a little wistfully, she thought. “Your honesty does you much credit. Miss Dower,” he said. “You have enjoyed a most sheltered existence. It is only natural that you should wish to try your wings and see a bit more of the world before entertaining such a serious suit. I should have thought of it myself. I respect your wishes, of course. Nothing more need be said at present. I shall take my leave of you now in hopes that I may call again at another time.”

He had risen as he spoke and now he bowed formally to her. Mistaking her astonished expression, his mouth quirked a little. “Never fear, I shall not press you.”

Mrs. Dower, who had been hovering anxiously in the background, took Mr. Hawkins’s rising as her cue. She rushed over, already speaking before she reached the couple. “Oh, Mr. Hawkins! Surely you are not leaving us so soon. Why, I had quite hoped to be able to offer you some small refreshment.”

Mr. Hawkins turned the charm of his smile on the older lady. “Perhaps another time, ma’am. I shall wait on you and Miss Dower again, I assure you.”

He bowed to Mrs. Dower and the silent young lady who was still seated immobile on the bench. Then he walked away rapidly across the chamomile lawn to disappear behind the green hedges that separated the house from the gardens.