Authors: Lori Wick
A smile stretched Lenore’s mouth as she walked. She was so pleased and proud of him that she couldn’t find the words to tell him.
Weston eventually directed them over to the card table, where the game was ending. From there the six moved to the davenports and sat listening while Louisa played the piano. Weston’s eyes often drifted to where his wife sat on a chair a few feet away from his place on the sofa, but Anne’s gaze was always on Louisa, her visage rather wistful.
“That was lovely, Louisa,” Lenore told her friend at the finish of the first lengthy number.
“Thank you.”
“Play my favorite,” Edward Cavendish requested, his deep voice quietly reverberating in the room. Louisa glanced at him, looking pleased as she went back to the keys.
As the strains of a minuet floated from the instrument, Weston watched Louisa for a time. But as he was turning his gaze back to Anne, he noticed that Francis Cavendish, Edward’s brother, was already watching her. Anne didn’t notice either man, but Weston had suddenly become very aware of his old family friend.
Had someone accused him of being the jealous type an hour earlier, Weston would have laughed, but now he wasn’t so sure. With surreptitious eye movements, and Louisa’s music in the background, Weston watched Francis watching Anne. Not at any time did Anne seem to be aware of the other man, but Weston found himself remembering that Francis was many years younger than Edward. He was too old for Anne in Weston’s opinion, but clearly Francis didn’t think so.
Weston nearly started at his own thoughts. It mattered not in the least if Francis was too old for Anne! Anne was spoken for, and by a man who had no intention of giving her up!
“Are you all right?” a soft voice came to Weston’s ears.
He’d been frowning at the younger Cavendish, and it took a moment to realize it was Anne.
“Yes,” he answered automatically, having to ignore the concern he saw in her eyes while mentally being very stern with himself over his own foolish ramblings.
As if trying to gauge for herself, Anne studied him a bit longer and then turned back to Louisa’s work at the piano.
For Weston the evening began to drag. His mother’s neighbors didn’t stay any later than they usually did, but Weston was most eager to be alone with his thoughts. It seemed hours before he was able to do this, and when he was finally alone in his room, he knew his body needed sleep. He climbed into bed, Anne very much on his mind. But he also realized that any more cogitation on the subject would have to wait for the morning.
“Thank you, Betsy,” Lenore said when she was handed her first cup of tea. She always started the day with tea in her room; breakfast came later. “There was something I wanted to ask you, and it has slipped my mind.”
Betsy waited a moment and then suggested, “Could it be about young Mrs Weston’s clothing?”
Lenore looked relieved. It was lovely to have a faithful servant who could read her mind after all these years.
“That was it, Betsy. How did things seem to you?”
“Wanting in every way, my lady.”
“Underclothing?”
“Most definitely.”
“Night things?”
“Those too.”
Lenore looked thoughtful for a moment, and Betsy knew she could add more.
“If I may be so bold, Mrs Weston, I found only three handkerchiefs. They looked new, but her robe is threadbare.”
“The robe will go on Mrs Martin’s list when she’s here for our fittings tomorrow, but handkerchiefs and such can be covered today.”
“It’s a good plan, my lady.”
Lenore nodded, her face still thoughtful before it broke into a warm smile.
“We’re going to take care of her, Betsy. We’re going to take care of our Anne. She’ll have a wedding trousseau the likes of which she’s never dreamed.”
Betsy exited on that positive note to leave her mistress in peace. Trusting that Anne would be pleased with the plans, Lenore reached for her Bible. The house was still quiet, and it was her favorite time to read and pray. She began with her son and new daughter.
“Good morning, Anne,” Lenore greeted when Anne arrived at the breakfast table a few hours later. Lenore had only just taken a seat. “How did you sleep?”
“Very well, thank you. It’s a bit late. Have I held breakfast?”
“Not at all. I can tell you live in the country. For a London resident, this isn’t late at all.”
Anne laughed a little as she joined Lenore, sitting to her right. Tea was offered to her, and as she added sugar, food began to arrive. Halfway through eggs, bacon, and tomatoes, her husband came down for breakfast.
“You’re up early,” Weston said to his mother before kissing her cheek.
“Do you think?” Lenore asked him with a teasing smile.
Weston didn’t answer but went directly to Anne and kissed her cheek.
“Good morning,” he greeted before taking a seat across the table. “How did you sleep?”
“Very well, thank you. And you?”
“I slept very hard. It must have been our long day yesterday.”
“You did have a long day yesterday,” Lenore said, just realizing this. “I think I would have had the Cavendishes another night had I been thinking straight.”
“Don’t worry on it, Mother. We’ll have plenty of time to take our ease.”
“Not today, however. Today is our first shopping day.”
“Did you hear that, Anne? Mother has spoken!”
“I did hear. Where will we begin?”
“I think at Lloyd’s. They have such splendid accessories.”
“What types of things are you shopping for, Mrs Weston?”
“Lenore,” she corrected before going on. “I’m shopping for your trousseau, Anne. Did Robert not tell you?”
Anne looked at her husband, her memory serving that they were going to shop but nothing about his mother’s involvement or a trousseau.
“Have I overstepped?” Lenore asked, looking a bit concerned, her gaze going from one to the other.
“Not at all, Mother. I didn’t explain to Anne.” As Robert turned to do this, he found his wife’s face very pale.
“I’m sorry,” he immediately began. “Mother wrote and asked me what type of wedding gift would suit us. I told her the first thing that came to mind, and that was that she could take us shopping when we visited London.”
“But a trousseau,” Anne argued. “It’s too much.”
“Can you name me one thing you don’t need, Anne?”
The question was asked gently, but feeling very humbled and put in her place, Anne gave a swift shake of her head and lowered her eyes to her plate.
“I just remembered I must see Cook about something,” Lenore put in at that moment. “Do excuse me, will you?”
“Anne, I’m sorry,” Weston wasted no time in saying. “I should never have spoken to you like that in front of my mother.”
“Do you think she found me rude and ungrateful?”
“No, I think she found me forgetting my tongue and you embarrassed because of it.”
Husband and wife stared across the table at each other.
“Give me your hand,” Weston requested. He waited for Anne to reach across the table. “I thought as much—you’re trembling.”
“I hate to be such a little mouse of a thing, but at times I am overwhelmed.” Anne saw compassion in her husband’s gaze and felt it in his touch, so she felt emboldened to go on. “I do have needs in all areas, but I still think a trousseau is too much.”
“How would you like to do this?”
“I don’t know. Maybe just a little at a time in Collingbourne.”
“But if you have needs now and we can afford to see to them, or if my mother is offering a gift, why not take care of them?”
Anne reclaimed her hand and shrugged helplessly, her heart unsure of what to think or do next. She wasn’t feeling bad about having needs, but somehow burdening her mother-in-law when they’d only just met seemed unnecessary to her. It was one thing to have her husband know of her situation—he had married her with his eyes open—but she didn’t think it fair to have it fall on Mrs Weston.
A moment more of thought and Anne saw that it was a foolish notion on her part. Of course his mother would be affected by nearly anything that touched her son, but she hadn’t expected it to come out in quite this way.
“No one will buy anything today that you don’t want.” Weston cut into Anne’s thoughts with this suggestion.
Anne looked uncertain and countered, “Why don’t you decide what I should get?”
“If I do that,” Weston began, a smile peeking through, “you’ll have the trousseau.”
Anne’s hands came up in exasperation before she said, “Weston, do you not think a few dresses and something more permanent for our home would be a better wedding gift?”
“Our home is full of treasures,” he reasoned. “My mother is delighted to shop for you. She loves to shop. If we give her full rein—something I fully intend to do—you’ll be the best-dressed lady in all of Collingbourne.” Weston put his hand up when Anne opened her mouth to speak. “I know that’s not your goal in life, and I was being more facetious than anything else, but you do have needs, my mother loves to shop, and she wants to buy us a wedding gift. I find that a perfect combination.”
Anne watched her husband sit back and wait. She had to admit that his argument was sound. On top of that, he wanted her to have the things she needed.
“I did say that I wanted you to decide,” Anne said thoughtfully.
“True.”
“And it rather sounds like you have.”
Weston’s eyes began to smile; his mouth was soon to follow.
“You might even have fun,” he teased her.
Anne shook her head in self-derision.
“We chased your mother from her breakfast.”
“She’d be willing to give up eating for the day if you’ll accept this gift from her.” Weston’s voice was quiet and gentle. He hated to see Anne upset, and her pale face was still very clear in his mind. “Mother really is quite excited, and again, I’m sorry I didn’t explain. It would have taken care of all of this.”
“Do I need to apologize to your mother? I think I might.”
“No, she understands you were taken by surprise, and if you recall, she turned directly to me to find out why you didn’t know. She understands who’s to blame.”
“It’s like you said before.”
“What’s that?”
“This getting to know each other takes years.”
Weston nodded. “Yes, but I think it will be worth our effort.”
Anne silently agreed. It was already worth it to her. Almost daily new things unfolded, new things about herself or her husband that were helping her learn and grow. She believed God had blessed her all the years of her life, but never had His grace been so visible.
Anne would need to remember her gracious God a few hours later when the threesome was in the thick of shopping. Lenore Weston’s eye for detail, her nose for a bargain, and her delight in seeing Anne with new things would make for a day that the younger Mrs Weston would never forget.
“Look at this pair, Anne. They’re just right for you.”
“Oh, my,” Anne breathed for the dozenth time, touching the long kid gloves and marveling at their softness.
“I think several pair,” Lenore was saying, consulting her list. A clerk stood at her elbow and made notes on her own pad.
“That many?”
“Certainly, dear, you never know when someone might spill on you. My Betsy is a wonder with stains, but not even she can manage…” Lenore didn’t finish. She had spotted something else and was taking Anne in that direction.