Miss Dower's Paragon (7 page)

Chapter Six

Evelyn made a determined effort to put Peter Hawkins out of her mind. It was more difficult than she had hoped, since Mr. Hawkins came to tea that week on three separate occasions. On those days that he did not appear, there was a civil note conveying his apologies.

Reading one of these notes, Mrs. Dower remarked, “Such a remarkably civil young gentleman. I am really quite impressed with Mr. Hawkins.” She eyed her daughter, who was calmly matching embroidery yarns, and said hopefully, “Do you not wish to encourage him just a little, Evelyn?”

“No, Mama, I do not,” said Evelyn firmly. “Mr. Hawkins may be all that is exemplary, but I do not find him in the least romantic. The gentleman who finds favor with me must be able to sweep me off my feet.”

“My dear child, how very extraordinary of you! I had thought you to be quite practical, just like your dear papa. He did not care in the least for such things, calling it all nonsense and worse, besides. I had not realized that you were so very like me,” said Mrs. Dower wonderingly.

Evelyn was not certain that she cared for this comparison, for though she loved her mother dearly she nevertheless thought of Mrs. Dower as somewhat foolish and scatterbrained. “I do not think it in the least impractical to look about for a gentleman for whom I have a decided preference,” she said stiffly.

Mrs. Dower hastened to reassure her. “No, indeed! Why, that is exactly what I did. I refused ever so many offers before I accepted your father. He was so handsome and so very clever. Of course I did not discover until much later how uncomfortable he could make one.”

Evelyn’s attention was truly caught. She looked up from the spread of colored thread in her lap. “What do you mean, Mama?”

Mrs. Dower waved her hand in a vague manner. “Oh, it was that side of his nature that always remained completely foreign to me. He was often utterly consumed by politics and other such things which I have never thought to be of much interest. You will not remember, of course, but there was always such a swirl of drama about him! He felt things so strongly. You have no notion how often I cringed at what was said about your papa by various personages.” Mrs. Dower shuddered as she recalled. “Quite, quite uncomfortable, I assure you!”

“Is that why you removed permanently to Bath after Papa died?” Evelyn asked.

“The society was easier, you see. I was always more comfortable in Bath. One was not as likely to run into one of your dear papa’s antagonists just as one was beginning to enjoy oneself at dinner or on the dance floor,” said Mrs. Dower apologetically. She gave a little shrug. “Besides, Bath is so much less expensive than London. However frivolous I may seem, I do understand how to manage an allowance, and I knew that I would be quite run off my feet if we remained in London. I did not wish to be obliged to dip into the portion that your father settled upon you, dearest.”

Evelyn returned to her task, and with exaggerated deliberation she chose some yarns. She did not pay as much attention to her mother’s last revelation as she might have done at another time. “I had not previously known that you were so unhappy with Papa,” she said quietly.

“Unhappy!” Mrs. Dower exclaimed, astonished. She looked at her daughter, suspecting that the girl was playing off one of her funning tricks. But Evelyn appeared perfectly serious, and she exclaimed, “No such thing! Why, wherever did you get such an odd notion? Really, Evelyn, how you do catch one up and put a meaning that one never intended to one’s words.”

Evelyn was taken aback. “But, Mama, you have just been saying how awful London was for you because of Papa’s connections.”

“That was quite a different thing altogether!” said Mrs. Dower emphatically.

When Evelyn shook her head, she regarded her daughter somewhat pityingly. “My dear Evelyn, you are so very young. I do hope that given a little time you will learn to discern the chaff from the wheat.”

With that obscure remark, Mrs. Dower rose, announcing her intention to see to the next week’s menus. “For what with your coming out in a few days’ time, I must make certain that Cook understands what will be required of her when we begin to entertain.” She left the sitting room.

Evelyn was left to ponder her mother’s meaning, a faint frown gathering her brows. She felt that she had been rebuked in no uncertain terms, but she had little inkling what her true offense had been. She had never paid great heed to anything that her mother ever said, having learned at an early age that Mrs. Dower’s remarks were not of the most profound nature, but this particular time there had been an unusual perceptivity in her mother’s eyes that had startled her.

After a few moments of reflection, however, she shrugged away the odd feeling that her mother had truly been trying to convey something momentous to her and turned her full attention to her dull task. She worked over the yarns, matching shades and colors, and that was how she was occupied when a visitor was ushered in.

The young lady was rather tall with a graceful carriage. She regarded Evelyn with slightly raised brows, and her green gaze was amused. “I did not know you were of such a domestic bent, Evelyn.” She sauntered forward, dragging off one of her supple gloves.

Evelyn laughed. “You know very well I am not! It is for Mama, of course.”

The young lady flashed a smile. She stretched out her browned hand in greeting. “Of course. Good day, my dear. How do I find you?”

“Well enough, Pol.” Evelyn shook her friend’s hand, as always tensing her own hand against the other girl’s hard grip. “Pray do sit down. I am going out of my mind with this, as you may well imagine.” Her friend accepted the invitation and gracefully sank down on the settee beside her.

Evelyn nodded at the other’s somewhat worn but well-fitted riding dress. “I see that you have just come in. What goes on up at the manor?”

“The squire is hard at it this fine morning, which is the reason you see me now,” said Miss Woodthorpe, peeling off her other kid glove and smoothing both between her fingers. Considering a moment, she said meditatively, “My parent is very dear to me, but on occasion he tries my patience most effectively.”

“Oh dear! I do hope that the squire calms down soon. I know that you do not particularly care to come into town on such a fine day,” Evelyn said sympathetically.

Miss Woodthorpe shrugged. “It is of no consequence. An hour or so given to calling on friends and the discharge of a few errands will stand me in good stead. The squire will have exhausted his spleen by the time I return, and then he will be manageable again.”

Evelyn laughed, shaking her head at her friend. “How you can remain so cool about it all, Appolonia, I have never quite fathomed. I know that I should not be so collected if I were in your shoes. But then I have never had brothers, nor a father since I was a girl, so I have not the practical experience, have I?”

A smile hovered about Miss Woodthorpe’s full mouth as she regarded her younger friend. “One usually needs more than just a bit of experience to handle the male of our species, my dear. I believe it is a rare talent to be able to do so. Men are very like horses, I have found. One learns to handle both, or neither. A pity that I have never discovered a gentleman possessed of the proper combination of raw spirit and ability.”

“Oh, Pol! You could have accepted any one of a dozen offers this past year and more,” said Evelyn.

“True, but none of my suitors proved enough of a challenge for my abilities,” said Miss Woodthorpe. When Evelyn laughed, she said with her characteristically quick smile, “But enough about my affairs! What is this prattle that has come to my ears of your coming out?”

Evelyn laughed again, her eyes sparked instantly by mischief. “I apprehend that Mama has been busily engaged in spreading the news. It is quite true. Mama is launching me into society, in a quiet fashion, of course. I am to gain a little polish and dash whilst I mull over the eligible gentlemen at large.”

“What delicious fun. I shall naturally do all that is within my power to guide into your sphere those gentlemen most likely to put an offer,” said Miss Woodthorpe.

Evelyn grimaced slightly. “Thank you, but no. I know just the sort you have in mind for me, Pol.”

Miss Woodthorpe gave a deep, throaty laugh. Her green eyes were alight with amusement. “No, I suppose you would not be taken with the horsey set,” she agreed. “Though I must tell you, I have seldom seen a better instinctive seat than you possess. If you could only overcome that absurd fear of yours for jumping fences.”

“As I recall, I acquired that fear when your brother John slapped the rump of my mare before I knew what he was about,” Evelyn retorted.

Miss Woodthorpe frowned. “Yes, it was very bad of him. I dressed him down severely on the spot, but of course you would not recall that since you were knocked senseless. John was quite remorseful when he saw how badly his little prank had ended.”

“Yes, I know. He has told me so over and over again. It has been months now. Can
you
not persuade him that I have forgiven him?” Evelyn asked on a mock-plaintive note.

Miss Woodthorpe laughed again, but she shook her head. “Of course I will not. Were I to do so, he would become just as careless and unthinking as before. As it is, he is learning to accept the feel of the bridle that his own conscience has become. I say leave it well enough alone.”

“Poor John!” Evelyn said, laughing, and Miss Woodthorpe joined in.

The door to the sitting room opened, and Mrs. Dower entered, accompanied by another young lady. Mrs. Dower started speaking before she cleared the threshold. “Evelyn, only but see whom I discovered in the hall coming to call on us. Our dearest Abigail! Her mother has sent us a basket of her delightful jams. You must thank her for us, Abigail. I, for one, am very fond of her offerings.”

“I shall certainly do so, ma’am,” Miss Abigail Sparrow said.

Mrs. Dower exclaimed anew when she saw that Evelyn was already entertaining a guest. “Apollonia, my dear! No one informed me of your arrival. Has your mother come with you?” She looked around as though expecting Mrs. Woodthorpe to appear out of the woodwork.

Miss Woodthorpe was quite used to Mrs. Dower’s reasonings. “No, ma’am. I rode in with Toby, my groom. However, my mother sends her regards. She knew that I meant to call on you and Evelyn.”

Miss Sparrow had advanced to give greeting. “Evelyn, how happy I am to see you.” She exchanged a warm hug and a few words with Evelyn before she turned her mild blue eyes to the other young lady, who was now regarding her with a slight smile.

Miss Sparrow’s greeting to Miss Woodthorpe, though gracious, lacked the same warmth as that which she had bestowed upon Evelyn. “Apollonia, I am glad to see you, too. I hope your family is well?”

“We are none the worse, Abigail,” Miss Woodthorpe said wryly. “I trust that the reverend has recovered from his malaise?”

Miss Sparrow smiled and nodded her gratitude for the kind inquiry. “Yes, thank you. Papa is perfectly stout now. Mama and the rest of us were quite anxious for a time, but our fears have been completely laid to rest, thank God.”

Evelyn was well aware that these best of her friends had never truly developed a deep affection for one another. Miss Woodthorpe’s forthright manners and the consuming passion she had for animals and the land often put her at cross-purposes with Miss Sparrow, whose sympathies could always be counted upon to side with humanity. The young ladies were physical opposites, as well. Miss Woodthorpe was a striking brunette of willowy and athletic grace. Miss Sparrow appeared fragile in both stature and temperament, but her blonde prettiness and sweet expression hid a surprising amount of will.

“Abigail, pray do make yourself comfortable. Mama, I understand from Pol that you have been telling everyone of my come-out?”

“Of course I have. Why, if I did not, and at such short notice, too, there would not be upward of half a dozen personages at our first dinner party. I know that I may count upon the Woodthorpes and Sparrows, at least,” said Mrs. Dower, seating herself beside Miss Sparrow on a second settee.

All three young ladies laughed.

“I suspect that you may count on a few more to attend than just our respective families,” Miss Woodthorpe said.

“Of course you may! You and Evelyn have ever so many friends and acquaintances. I am certain it will be a most horrid squeeze,” Miss Sparrow said warmly, lightly touching the older lady’s hand.

“Thank you, my dear, I am sure,” said Mrs. Dower, gratified. “I do not anticipate a
squeeze,
for after all we are not in London, but I do hope that the numbers will at least prove to be respectable.”

“I hope you mean to invite Lady Pomerancy and Mr. Hawkins. The attendance of a London gentleman can but add a certain cachet to the occasion and I am certain that I do not need to tell
you,
Mrs. Dower, that her ladyship’s approval must go far in making the evening a success,” said Miss Sparrow.

Evelyn threw a fleeting glance at her mother, and Mrs. Dower at once seemed to find inordinate interest in the edging of lace at her cuff. Evelyn awaited her mother’s reply with interest.

“Oh, indeed! I have sent round an early invitation to Lady Pomerancy, and it is my hope that her health will permit her to attend. As for Mr. Hawkins, I believe that he has already accepted,” said Mrs. Dower, still avoiding her daughter’s eyes.

“I was not aware that you had begun the invitations, Mama. You should have told me, for I would have been most happy to help you address them,” said Evelyn fiendishly.

Mrs. Dower fidgeted a little. “Oh well, I have not precisely
begun
them. It was only that I wished Lady Pomerancy to have advance notice, for I know that her ladyship must pick and choose the functions she means to attend in order to conserve her energies,” she said. “And I could not very well send an invitation to Lady Pomerancy without including Mr. Hawkins in it, could I?”

Evelyn bent her head, ostensibly so that she could peer closer at two similar yams, but in actuality to hide her disrespectful expression.

“Very proper and considerate,” Miss Sparrow said, nodding.