Shades of the Past (18 page)

The image of Adrian's features, slashed with fury, tormented Vanessa throughout the remainder the day.  Scarce could she thread two thoughts together, let alone hold them there for any significant amount of time.

Later, unable to trust her emotions, she decided against appearing at dinner or joining the others afterward.  Instead, she relayed her excuses and regrets and kept to her chamber, facing what promised to be a night devoid of sleep.

Later still, just before turning down her lamp, Mary Ethel appeared, delivering a note from Cissy—an invitation to join her and her husband the next morning for a "happy escape to Hereford."  Vanessa gladly accepted.  The diversion was just the tonic she needed while her shattered nerves healed.

Vanessa rose with the dawn and prepared for the outing, taking a modified breakfast of tea and toast in her chamber.  At the specified time, she slipped down the grand staircase and into the entrance hall to meet her traveling companions, the Norlands.  She found Cissy, standing before the hall's soaring mirror, giving a final check to her bonnet and skirts.  Lord Norland, however, appeared nowhere in sight. 

"Henry's taken a dreadful chill, poor darling," Cissy said as she came away from the mirror and tugged on her gloves.  "It was that fishing jaunt he made yesterday—all that wading about, knee-high in icy waters.  Young Geoffrey escaped without so much as a sniffle, but I fear Henry fared the worse and won't be able to leave his bed today." 

Cissy stopped before Vanessa and smiled, giving a tilt to her head. 

"There's no need to cancel our outing, however."  Looping her arm through Vanessa's, Cissy swept her along with her through the front door and onto the portico.  "My brother has agreed to accompany us."

Vanessa's heart lurched at the thought of Adrian serving as their chaperon.  Cissy took no notice of her distress—which surely shone like a beacon upon her face—but chattered on as she scanned the drive for their carriage.

"Henry insisted I keep my appointment with Madame Chaston.  She's cleared her entire morning to fit me for my winter wardrobe.  Well, not an entire wardrobe exactly, only three or four dresses.  Maybe a fifth."

Vanessa barely followed Cissy's words, her dread mounting by the second at the prospect of facing Adrian.  What could she possibly say to the man?  She still didn't understand how she'd offended him.

She watched as a carriage approached from the direction of the stables and drew before the portico.  In the same moment, she heard a man's swift bootfalls, leaving the portal of the manse and coming to a halt directly behind her. 

Vanessa's thoughts scattered in a hundred different directions, as she slowly turned to confront Adrian.  As she lifted her eyes to meet his, she discovered Lawrence's spreading smile instead.

"Good morning, ladies."  He tipped his hat and sketched a charming bow.  "I understand you are in need of an escort to our fair city of Hereford."

Cissy sent Vanessa a wide-eyed glance, appearing as stunned as she.  "That would be most kind of you, Lawrence," she replied politely, though with a touch of hesitance.  "Forgive me, but I thought Henry sent word to—“

"Adrian?  He did indeed, but it seems our brother rode out earlier.  Timmons came to me with your request and explained the circumstance.  Now, ladies, if you will allow me to assist you, we'll be on our way.  Let it never be said chivalry does not flourish at Sherringham."

Full of sunny good cheer, Lawrence aided Cissy and Vanessa into the carriage, then followed, bidding the coachman to drive on.

 Vanessa wondered to herself which would be more stressful—the day spent with Adrian or with Lawrence.  At least she shared the bench seat with Cissy and would not be plagued with wandering hands.  Of course, that meant Lawrence sat directly opposite, in a prime position to stare at her all the way to the city.

Knowing she could not escape the circumstance without being embarrassingly obvious, Vanessa accepted the turn of events and glanced out the window to the passing landscape.  She'd not abandon Cissy simply to avoid her brother.  Lawrence best behave himself, however, especially in public.  She released a sigh.  If only she'd had the foresight to carry along her umbrella!

Vanessa continued to ride in silence, admiring the pastoral beauty of the countryside gently rolling past.  Her nerves remained a jumble of knots.  Still, as strange as it seemed, her heart harbored a sting of disappointment that Adrian wasn't escorting them after all. 

As Cissy and Lawrence engaged in a pleasant exchange, Vanessa kept her focus on the changing views, noticing how nature had swept her autumnal paintbrush over the woods and hills and fields, washing everything in shades of terra-cotta.  She surveyed the scene only superficially, however, her thoughts far removed. 

What had Adrian meant yesterday by his parting remark?  "It's not true what they say,” he’d thundered.  “None of it.”  None of what?  And who were "they”?

"Majel is furious, of course."  Cissy's comment netted Vanessa's attention.  She shifted her gaze from a herd of contentedly grazing sheep and sent Cissy a quizzical look, having missed the first of her comment.

"Adrian has assigned Nanny and Mr. Timmons's wife, Joan, to oversee preparations for the sale of Aunt Gwen's clothing—for the widows and orphans fund, as her will required," Cissy explained.  "Majel is incensed he did so and caused a bit of a row when she found out." 

"Has Adrian taken leave of his senses?"  Lawrence's brows drew together, his tone tinged with ridicule.  "Or is our brother completely oblivious to Nanny's declining mental state?”

Vanessa's gaze sheered to Lawrence, an unexpected fierceness springing to her breast.  Oddly, she found herself prepared to take up shield and sword in Adrian's behalf, and Nanny's too.  A retort poised upon her tongue, but Cissy spoke before she could give voice to it.

"Adrian is well aware of what he is doing," she insisted.  "Nanny has long been concerned for those less fortunate.  He believes the benefit is an excellent project for her to busy herself with and that it will give her a renewed sense of purpose.  Frankly, Nanny is thrilled at the opportunity and is positively bustling with energy.  I do believe the excitement has even quickened her mind."

"As if that were possible," Lawrence muttered with a roll of his eyes.

Again, Vanessa simmered at his cutting ridicule.  At the same time, she remembered Nanny's bright cheer and amazing clarity of mind when they'd taken tea together, several days earlier.  She seemed a changed person then.  Not changed, she corrected,
revitalized.

"Lawrence, don't be cruel," Cissy scolded.  "Nanny is the dearest soul, and don't forget Mrs. Timmons.  She's long been Sherringham's head housekeeper, and a more efficient and well-organized soul you'll be hard pressed to find.  Adrian is confident she can handle any difficulties that arise.  He's not so unaware of circumstances at Sherringham as you might believe."

A curious look entered Lawrence's eyes, one Vanessa could not read.

"On the other hand, dear sister, Adrian might not be fully aware of
all
circumstances, either."

Vanessa bit her inner lip, considering the comment odd at best.  She chose not to pursue that course.  "What of Majel?" she asked instead.  "Will she interfere in your brother's decision, do you think?"

This brought chuckles from both Cissy and Lawrence. 

"When doesn't she interfere?" Lawrence commented, smiling wide once more.

Cissy smiled too.  "Actually, Majel and her family were prepared to leave Sherringham in the coming days, but she has decided they will remain." 

A gleam came to life, sparkling in Cissy's eyes.  "I was present when she threw down the gauntlet to Adrian.  Majel challenged him directly, saying he couldn't possibly object to her remaining to inspect Auntie's clothing as she had a mind to offer on some of them herself as the solicitor suggested.  You should have seen Adrian's face.  His look turned black as night."

Vanessa need not imagine it.  She knew the look firsthand.

Lawrence leaned forward, giving Cissy a teasing wink. "Sister, dear, you are turning into an incorrigible gossip."

  As the threesome fell to a companionable silence, Vanessa's thoughts turned once more to Adrian.  His thoughtfulness and sensitivity toward Nanny, his generosity and many kindnesses to others including Lady Gwen, formed an image that didn't square with a dark, forbidding side to his nature.  What was the truth about Adrian Marrable?  Did she really know him at all?

The narrow road wound through the countryside, following the River Wye and bringing them eventually to the ancient market town of Hereford.  As they approached an aged stone bridge spanning the river, Vanessa caught sight of the red sandstone cathedral rising in the distance, on the Wye's northern bank. 

Crossing over, they progressed in the cathedral's direction, following a series of streets that ended one into another, leaving them directly opposite the sandstone mass with its great square tower and bristling spires.

"Madame Chaston's shop is just a little farther," Cissy apprised Vanessa as the carriage turned to the left and trundled along Broad Street.  "The shopping district surrounds the cathedral.  Though the layout of the city is literally medieval, it's difficult to become lost if you keep the tower in sight."

As the last words left Cissy's lips, the carriage pulled to a halt before a narrow, Georgian-style house.  Lawrence preceded the ladies out and handed them down, then followed behind as they entered the House of Chaston.

Vanessa found it to be wonderful shop, airy and bright with shelves brimming with fabrics and trimmings and a tall, triple mirror filling one corner of the room.  Through open doors, she glimpsed busy seamstresses bent to their work, their needles flying over yards of cloth.  

From a separate door, a tiny round figure with a thick braid of black hair crowning her head, bustled forth.  Cissy stepped forward to greet Madame Chaston then, in turn, introduced her to Lawrence and Vanessa.

"Eh bien,
Mrs. Wynters also wishes to be fitted for a gown today?"  Madame Chaston took Vanessa by the hands and turned her about, assessing her figure and coloring. 
"Alors,
something for the day in green cashmere?  Or for the evening—a gown in pale blue satin
merveilleux
and duchesse lace?"

"Perhaps another day, thank you."  Vanessa declined as graciously as possible, knowing she needed to save all her funds for her fledgling profession.  At the same time, she wondered how she would look in a creation of pale satin and lace and what Adrian might think. 

Did it matter? she asked herself in the next instant.  She didn't wish it to.  And yet, somehow it did.

"Actually, while Cissy is being fitted, I am hoping to locate a photographer's studio," Vanessa disclosed.  "That is, if there is one in the city."

"You are in luck, Mrs. Wynters."  The woman's eyes brightened, her smile plumping her cheeks.  "There are two studios—one on Commercial Street and the other on St. Owens."

"I know just the ones," Lawrence volunteered, then checked his watch.  "We'll return in, shall we say, two hours?"

"Three."  Madame Chaston slipped a smile to Cissy.  "I'm sure Lady Norland will appreciate the extra time to decide upon her wardrobe."

"Three then," Lawrence confirmed, catching Cissy's gaze.  "We can lunch afterward at the inn on Castle Green."

After leaving the House of Chaston, Lawrence gave the coachman directions to the nearest photographic studio on Commercial Street.  Fortune smiled on Vanessa when she inquired within and found the owner possessed the specialized paper she sought.  After a brief negotiation, and at a slightly inflated price, he agreed to part with several sheets of Platinotype.

Last night, during her many awake hours, Vanessa decided if she was to pursue the ghost in earnest she needed the costly printing-out paper which was sensitized with chloride-of-platinum, rather than silver.  The platinum process offered a superior range of tonal values, far greater than any other.  She hoped it would render the ghost's features with better definition and thus reveal her identity.

With several hours left to spare, Lawrence suggested they visit St. Ethelbert's Cathedral and its gardens.

"It's quite fascinating really," he asserted.  "Hereford's bishopric claims to be the oldest in England and the cathedral, itself, houses many marvelous treasures."

Vanessa agreed.  Thus far, Lawrence had conducted himself faultlessly.  She trusted he'd continue to do so in the house of God.  She also trusted they wouldn't be alone.

Arriving on the cathedral's west side, they alighted from the carriage and entered by way of a well-tended close.  Inside, it took several moments for their eyes to adjust to the reduced level of light.  Hushed murmurings drew Vanessa's attention to small clusters of other visitors, drifting about the nave and side aisles.  There also appeared to be a number of long-robed clerics tending to varied tasks, and a few scattered parishioners praying in the pews.

Lawrence proved a perfect guide, pointing out various details and recounting the tragic tale of Ethelbert, the young East Anglian king who, on a visit to his promised bride, was beheaded by her father, Offa, the famed Mercian king.  Ethelbert's ghost demanded burial on this ground, guiding those bearing his remains by a pillar of light.