Before the Season Ends (24 page)

The day at the Herleys’ passed pleasantly. When Lavinia had a moment she confided to Ariana she had been loath to change their plans but it had been necessary since it gave her the opportunity to entertain his lordship.

“You have your Mr. Mornay, and you have made all the most splendid connexions, but I made none. Can you understand, Ariana, why I had to do as his lordship wanted? I daresay Mama would have disowned me if I muddled this chance. She has ever had her heart set on my making a match with a nobleman!”

“Miss Herley?” They both heard his lordship’s voice, but it was further back in the house and not an immediate threat. They spoke hurriedly.

“I understand. But please do not refer to the man as ‘my’ Mr. Mornay. That is not the case.”

“Perhaps not any longer,” she said, taking a quick glance around to be certain no one had found them out. “But you are by all accounts a success, while I am still, in this my second season, alone.”

Suddenly Lavinia had tears in her eyes and she almost shocked Ariana with a hug.

“My dear! I believe he really finds me agreeable! I’m so…frightened!” She whispered heavily into Ariana’s ear.

“Why are you frightened?” Ariana asked. “If he finds you agreeable, surely that is a good thing.”

Lavinia wiped her eyes hastily, using her skirt. She didn’t meet Ariana’s eyes, but said, “You are a such comfort to me, my dear.”

Ariana was puzzled, but there was no time for further discussion. Lord Antoine appeared in the doorway, a look of satisfaction on his face for locating Miss Herley. Mr. O’Brien was playing with the younger members of the family in the parlour, and Ariana regarded the scene with a little smile.

Later, when the carriage was summoned to take Ariana home, it was well into the evening. Both gentlemen were to accompany her in the carriage before being delivered to their own residences. Ariana was grateful the drive went quickly; she did not enjoy Lord Antoine in the least, and Mr. O’Brien’s constant attempts to converse became tiresome. She felt weary.

She did, however, give Mr. O’Brien leave to call upon her. He asked her permission shyly, which was unnecessary because she was quite happy to have made his acquaintance: a man of respectability, a good countenance, and sincere religion!

He called two days later. Ariana was riding in Hyde Park with a friend and missed his visit, but her aunt had not.

“Ariana, a third son!” Ariana was still in her riding habit, but Mrs. Bentley would not be put off. She followed her niece right into her chamber to complain.

“He will get nothing.
Nothing!
”

Ariana patiently explained why his friendship was of value to her, besides the fact that she found him utterly agreeable.

Her aunt stared at her wide-eyed. “He will get
nothing!
Are you comprehending me?”

“My dear Aunt,” and she gave her relative her most patient look. “You must know that my first concern is not with the size of a man’s fortune or inheritance.”

“Then let it be your second concern,” came the reply, spoken dryly. “Goodness knows it will concern you the rest of your life.” Ariana raised her eyes heavenward. She could no more deny Mr. O’Brien the chance to strengthen their acquaintance than she could wish away her attraction to Mr. Mornay. Life, she was beginning to realize, came at you with its hands full, but what it held in its hands did not always obey the rules of your mind or heart—or even your better judgment.

She knew that Mrs. Bentley had written a list with the names of wealthy gentlemen, and was planning on inviting them, one at a time, to dinner to better acquaint them with her and emphasize her availability. Mr. Mornay had cleared the way for Ariana to be accepted in the most aristocratic gatherings in town. Her aunt had seized that happenstance to issue invitations to the most aristocratic unmarried men available. And yet Ariana sighed with relief whenever regrets came by mail or messenger. Most people’s calendars it seemed, had little room for new invitations at mid-season.

Mr. O’Brien called three times in which he failed to find Miss Forsythe at home. On the fourth occasion, he was informed she was home, but busy entertaining other callers. He left a card each time, which was getting irksome, for he had no wish to order new ones. He tried, since obtaining the little cards with his name on them, to make them last.

Finally the day came when the young man managed to find Ariana at home. Mrs. Bentley sat stiffly in the parlour determined to give
them no time alone. No matter. Ariana enjoyed their conversation very much, even when it was evident they held different views regarding the providence of God in the affairs of men. They held lively discourse over the topic while Mrs. Bentley sat by yawning. The older woman was relieved when she could announce that the proper time for a polite call had passed.

Taking Ariana to see Mr. Pellham more often was an excuse to remove her from the parlour. Besides, Mrs. Bentley was growing alarmed at Mr. Pellham’s slow rate of recovery. She sometimes wearied of her hours at his side playing cards, or letting him read aloud from a travel book, though, so Ariana played at cards with him, or sometimes chess. There was not much else the man could still enjoy without his usual freedom.

S
hortly after the day at Lavinia’s house, Ariana was sitting quietly in the library reading when a footman found her there.

“Your presence, mum, is needed in the parlour.”

“Is there a caller?”

“Ay, mum, and the mistress is still out.”

Ariana straightened her gown and ran her hand over her hair which was done up in the usual way. She was glad that, if Mr. O’Brien was calling, her aunt was not yet returned. But when she opened the door to the parlour, the man who quickly spun around from the window to offer a polite bow was Phillip Mornay.

Ariana greeted him with a brief curtsey. “How nice of you to call.” She made an effort to keep her greeting polite and calm, rather than effusive. “Have you been offered refreshments?” Haines knew to do that, but it seemed a safe thing to say.

“I have, thank you.”

She motioned for him to take a seat.

He seemed to be studying Ariana as at their last meeting. When several awkwardly silent moments had passed, Mr. Mornay asked, “Do you expect your aunt soon?”

“I cannot say; she went making calls to her dowager friends,” Ariana replied. Mr. Mornay nodded. Then after a few more seconds of awkward silence, he said, “I hoped to ask her leave to take you from the house, today. There is a couple in my coach at this moment—friends
of mine—and we thought you might find it agreeable to join us on a visit to Vauxhall. ’Twas an impulsively made decision, and I apologize for the lack of notice.”

But Ariana’s face lit up. “I would like that very much, I thank you.”

“Are you certain your aunt would give you leave?”

Ariana gave a wry grin, and said, “Mrs. Bentley would no sooner deny you, sir, than the king or queen!”

He nodded again and another small silence ensued.

“I am pleased to see you’re looking well,” he offered.

“As are you,” Ariana returned the compliment and then excused herself to make ready for the outing. She hurried pell-mell to her chamber (after quietly closing the door on her guest) to change from slippers into a pair of leather half-boots, her heart soaring. She certainly hadn’t expected Mr. Mornay to call on her again! She prayed for him each and every night, and had shed a few tears, but she had been making steady progress in removing him from her thoughts. Until now.

After getting her bonnet and reticule, and notifying Haines of their destination for her aunt, they left the house. Mr. Mornay shooed away the footman and handed Ariana into the coach.

The lady seated inside was a pleasant-looking young woman by the name of Miss Dorsett, and her companion, Mr. Hartley, equally amiable in his greeting. Ariana felt sure it was going to be a very agreeable outing.

Miss Dorsett’s brown hair curled about a modestly fashionable bonnet and her hazel eyes smiled a great deal. Mr. Hartley had reddish-brown hair with a stylish lick, but nothing so loud in his attire that one could mistake him for a pink.

During the drive Ariana exchanged pleasantries with the couple, not surprised that Mr. Mornay’s comments were few. His eyes were milder than she remembered them, and he looked at her often. Now and then he even gave her a hint of a smile. It made her feel they were back at their easy method of being together, as when they had gone to the opera or theatre as a couple. Miss Dorsett and Mr. Hartley kept
up a cheerful banter that made the atmosphere lighter for everyone. Talk turned to London.

“Are you enjoying your stay in town?” Mr. Hartley asked Ariana.

“I am very much indeed.”

This caught Mr. Mornay’s interest. “Have you seen some of the places you wished to, then?”

Ariana tried to ignore the familiar pangs in her stomach as she met his gaze. “I have, with you to thank.” She turned to the others and explained. “Mr. Mornay escorted me on many a delightful evening to the opera and theatre and ballet. I feel certain today’s excursion will be another delight which I will be in his debt for.”

“What other sights are you hoping to see, Miss Forsythe? Do name them for us.” Miss Dorsett’s eyes regarded her earnestly.

Ariana paused to think. “The Royal Academy, the Tower, the British Museum, The Egyptian Hall; and, oh, I must not forget St. Paul’s Cathedral and Westminster.” She spoke a little about the architectural styles of the noted cathedrals. “And I would like to tour a missionary society I know of, and a charity school, if I may.”

Mr. Hartley expressed surprise at this last comment, and Ariana added, “I have long desired to educate myself on how the less fortunate of society are helped—”

“Bravo, Miss Forsythe!” Mr. Hartley said. “I say, I haven’t stepped into a church since before my first season. Why do we not all take a tour together sometime, eh, Mornay?”

Before he could answer, Ariana did. “Perhaps, Mr. Hartley, you should try going first upon a
Sunday.
” She had not been able to resist offering the advice to one who admitted outright to neglecting Sunday services, though Mr. Hartley had not addressed his remark to her. Miss Dorsett’s lips were suddenly compressed as she endeavoured not to laugh. Mr. Hartley laughed rather too much, belatedly realizing her earnestness; and Mr. Mornay’s eyes came alight though he said nothing.

Ariana then turned to Miss Dorsett. “And you, Miss Dorsett? Do you know of any house of worship we should all endeavour to see?”

Miss Dorsett considered the question a moment, then said, “I think perhaps St. Paul’s for its architecture after the way you have described it. You make it sound fascinating.” As an afterthought she added, “And, I assure you, Miss Forsythe, I attend church every week.” Ariana offered a companionable smile.

The bridge toward Vauxhall was a toll road, and it slowed their progress, but soon they had reached the gardens and were out of the carriage. Mr. Hartley, the self-appointed tour guide, turned to Ariana with enthusiasm.

“This is a famous site, Miss Forsythe, that you will surely appreciate. The gardens are lovely and there are many little amusements within the park to keep one diverted.”

Ariana was indeed struck by the natural beauty. It was early for flowers but there were primroses and crocuses, and the trees, while not yet in bud, were still a welcome sight after the drab London streets. Ariana was still unused to the sooty air and unpleasant aromas, and, worst of all, the presence of so many starkly poor people. It made her feel helpless, for she failed to devise any scheme for helping so many needy souls. This was another reason she wished to visit the charity schools and foundations begun by Christian Societies in London—of which there were many. She needed to know that much was being done and especially if there was a role for her in aiding such work. But she tried to shake off such thoughts and enjoy her surroundings.

The foursome naturally separated into couples. The others led the way, and Mr. Mornay and Ariana followed a little distance behind. Ariana exclaimed about the prettiness of the primroses and stopped to lean down and take a whiff.