First Season / Bride to Be (4 page)

“The park is very dull at this time of day,” said Christopher Hanford. “I know a better place. Have you heard of Astley's Amphitheatre?”

“Where they have the wild beasts?” asked William.

“That's it. Why don't we have a look at it today?”

The boys leaped up and began to pelt him with questions, their exuberance revived. Hanford kept one eye on Susan. At first it seemed that she would cling to her grievance. But when William's hope that there might be lions was confirmed, she gave in and joined the group. Lady Goring, amazed and grateful, watched the exchange with a smile, then saw them all off in a hansom cab. As Hanford was bidding her good-bye she said, “I hope we shall have an opportunity to talk again, in better circumstances. Will you come to dinner one night?”

“I should be delighted.”

“Tomorrow? We are at home.”

He agreed and, as the children were clamoring to go, stepped up into the carriage. Lady Goring saw them off before turning back into the front hall, a meditative look on her face.

Christopher Hanford was so punctual for his dinner appointment the following evening that he arrived before either Lady Goring or Anabel had come downstairs. As the footman took him to the drawing room to await them, Hanford felt unexpectedly awkward. He had purchased several new coats in Paris, having been assured by one of the best tailors that they became him and were in the very latest mode. He wore one tonight, but he had an uneasy suspicion that he could not compete with Sir Charles Norbury in this area. He looked like a sensible, well-bred gentleman, one whose family had been prominent in the county for centuries, but he was no Corinthian, and he never would be. Walking through the door the footman held open for him, Hanford again told himself that it was very common for ladies to be taken driving in town. It meant nothing in particular. Anabel could not be well acquainted with Norbury after such a short stay; perhaps she had merely gone out of politeness or the desire for variety. But he found his arguments unconvincing. The image of the polished Norbury had lingered painfully in his thoughts through the night, and his expression as he crossed the Turkey carpet toward the fireplace was wry and concerned.

“Oh!” said a female voice. There was a scuffling sound and then a cascade of small objects over the sofa front.

“I beg your pardon,” said Hanford, moving around it. “The footman did not tell me there was anyone here.”

Georgina Goring scrambled up. She had been reclining on the sofa, wholly engrossed in a book and fortified with a box of chocolate creams. The story was so enthralling that she had not heard the door open, and not until Hanford's footsteps were quite close had she noticed him. Startled, she had jumped, overturning the confections and raining them in confusion on the rug. Her heart was pounding because she had at first thought the intruder was Lady Goring, and braced herself for a scold. Discovering her mistake, she felt both embarrassed and irritated at facing a stranger and a male. “You crept up on me,” she accused.

Hanford eyed the very plump pale girl with some amusement. The scene told him a great deal. “Indeed, I did not mean to. The servant did not say you were here.”

“He didn't know,” admitted Georgina. She had formed the habit of slipping about the house, so that Lady Goring would have difficulty in finding her and preventing her pleasures.

Hanford knelt and began to pick up the scattered chocolates. He handed her the book that had fallen facedown on the floor. “
The Monk's Curse
,” he read. “Is that a novel?”

“Yes.” She snatched it from him.

“Are you fond of novels?” He deftly returned the last candies to their paper holders and put on the box's cover.

“Yes.” Georgina rose, taking this also from him and clutching both to her. She was a trifle disheveled, and her gray eyes sparkled defensively.

“So is my sister. She is continually telling me to read one or another, but I fear I am not a great reader. What do
you
like about them?”

The girl surveyed him suspiciously but could find no trace of mockery in his face. She thawed a little. “The stories are so exciting. I always feel as if I were hurtling down a long, dark tunnel with no notion of what is to come next.”

Hanford was surprised. The girl looked dull, but she was obviously not. “Do you? It sounds too terrifying for me.” He smiled at her to show that he was joking.

Georgina gazed at him with wonder and dawning interest. No gentleman but her father had ever bothered to be kind to her before. And this was a very attractive gentleman.

“I am Christopher Hanford, by the way.”

“Oh no!”

He raised his eyebrows, still smiling.

“I beg your pardon. But you are coming to dinner.”

“I am.”

“I mean, you are here for dinner, and I have not changed. I did not hear the bell. My aunt will be angry with me. I must go at once before she comes down.” But even as she hurried toward the door, still awkwardly grasping her possessions, it opened and Lady Goring came in, impressive in silver-gray satin.

“Georgina, what are you doing?” Her ladyship's sharp gaze took in the morning dress, the book, the box of chocolates, and her lips turned down.

“I was just going to change!” The girl almost ran past her and out of the room.

Lady Goring sighed heavily, then moved toward Hanford. “Good evening. I see you have met my niece.”

“Yes. A very intelligent girl. I fear I startled her when I came in.”

“No doubt she thought it was me. Sit down, please.” They sat. “Georgina and I do not agree on a number of things.” She noticed a lone chocolate, which had rolled under an armchair, and bent to pick it up. “Why will the wretched girl persist in eating candy? I am losing all patience with her! Can she not see that…” Remembering her company, she stopped.

“I daresay chocolates are what she has learned to love,” replied Hanford, feeling some obscure kinship with Georgina Goring.

Lady Goring stared at him, and he felt a little sorry for his comment. “Anabel has told me that you are an extremely perceptive counselor. You have helped her with the children more than once, I know. It is for Georgina's own sake that I wish her to keep away from chocolates and the like. She will be much happier in London if she does.”

He nodded. “It probably seems a criticism, however.”

“What am I to do?” wailed his hostess. “I cannot manage Georgina, and here is Anabel mad after a notorious rake. I had no idea when I asked her to visit that—”

“Norbury?” he snapped.

Once again aware that she had said too much, Lady Goring bit her lip. “I don't know what it is about you, but I am letting slip things I would not say to anyone else. Yes, Norbury is not the sort of man any mother would approve.”

“And she is ‘mad after him'?”

Something in his tone made Lady Goring look up sharply. What she saw in Hanford's face narrowed her eyes. “I exaggerate. Anabel is merely intrigued.”

“As yet.” Her words had filled him with a disappointment so sharp that he had difficulty breathing normally. It would be unbearable if he were to lose Anabel in this way, to such a man.

“I daresay it is a passing whim. She was never exposed to town life, and she is finding it interesting.”

“Interesting!” The tone was so bitter that Lady Goring's suspicion turned to certainty. She cataloged Hanford with care. From what she had seen, he was just the man for her daughter.

The door opened again, and Anabel came in. She was wearing a soft blue evening dress tonight that emphasized the size and color of her eyes. Her brown hair was dressed in a knot at the top of her head, with curls falling over her ears, where tiny sapphires sparkled. She came forward holding out her hand with undisguised pleasure. “Christopher. How good to see you again. You were away such an age.”

He took it, feeling his throat tighten, and bowed slightly. “It seemed long to be away from my friends,” he agreed.

“Oh, I'm sure you were having far too fine a time to think of us.” She laughed. “Was it splendid?” She gazed up at him, her eyes shining with open happiness and affection. It really
was
wonderful to see him again, she realized. She had missed him more than she knew.

The others, watching her closely, felt varying degrees of satisfaction. Lady Goring was confirmed in her resolve, and Hanford felt stirrings of hope, though the image of Sir Charles Norbury lingered in the back of his mind. “My journey was pleasant, but I did indeed think of you. In fact, I have some things for the children I would like to bring.”

“Presents. You spoil them so, Christopher.” Anabel spoke teasingly, knowing that it wasn't true. He had been an unimpeachable substitute father since Ralph's death. They smiled at each other warmly over this old joke.

The group settled on the sofa and armchairs. “Are the children in bed?” asked Hanford. “I hoped to see them again.”

“Yes.” Anabel threw a mischievous glance at her mother, who grimaced. “They had an active day, and we sent them off early.”

“Active!” Lady Goring's tone spoke volumes, and Anabel laughed.

“You invited them, Mama.”

“Yes, dear, and I love them all. But I had forgotten how wearing young children can be. I am happy to have them here and also happy when it is time for them to go to bed.” Her comical grimace made them all laugh, and Georgina Goring entered the room to general merriment.

The footman was right behind her, announcing dinner, and they went into the dining room in very good humor.

It was the most enjoyable meal Anabel could remember in London. Her mother and Georgina did not quarrel at all. Once, it appeared they might begin, but Christopher somehow smoothed over the contretemps and turned the conversation with an amusing anecdote. They talked of the Continent, Lady Goring reminiscing movingly, and then, surprisingly, of novels. Georgina became almost animated. By the time they went back to the drawing room for coffee, Hanford seemed as much an old family friend to the Gorings as to Anabel. Lady Goring was amazed by the ease with which he adapted to them, and very much bucked up by his charm and endearing smile. Anabel seemed to glow in his presence as her mother had not seen her do in years. As for Georgina, she simply thought Christopher Hanford the most wonderful man she had ever met, perhaps surpassing even her beloved father.

When they had drunk their coffee and the footman had come in twice to put fresh logs on the fire, Lady Goring rose to her feet. “Georgina,” she said, “I have something to show you in my room.”

The girl looked surprised, then concerned. “Just now?”

“Yes, dear, come along.” Lady Goring tried to convey with a look her desire to let Anabel and Hanford have a little private talk, but Georgina was oblivious.

“Can we not do it tomorrow?” Georgina had been having a wonderful time; she did not want it to end.

“No, dear.” The older woman moved toward the door, beckoning.

Georgina's brow puckered resentfully.

“Come along.”

She looked for support, but the others were talking. Sullen again, she rose and followed her aunt slowly from the room.

Anabel looked up in surprise when the door shut. “Where are they going?”

Hanford, who had seen and been humorously grateful for Lady Goring's maneuvers, shrugged.

“Well, it is fortunate. We can have a comfortable talk.” Anabel smiled at him, and his heart turned over.

“Yes. You are enjoying London?”

“I am. I did not think I would at first, but I am beginning to realize that I had shut myself away too much.”

This sounded ominous. “What made you decide to come up for the season?”

She smiled again. “Mama. Need you ask? I was feeling very flat at home, and she leaped at the chance.”

“Flat?”

“Yes. I do not know how it is, but this summer seemed horridly dull.”

Hanford hoped again. He had been away for the whole summer. “The children must be enjoying themselves. There are so many new things to see.”

“They enjoyed Astley's,” she answered with a grimace. “I must thank you again for taking them there. I hadn't thought of it, nor did Mama, of course. They have not been overly pleased with London until now. Your promises of future treats altered their view somewhat.”

“My father first brought me to town when I was about Nick's age and showed me all the sights. I remember the trip vividly to this day.”

Anabel held out a hand and, when he took it, squeezed his. “Thank you, Christopher. I can always count on you. I don't know what we have done to deserve such a friend.”

He almost spoke then. He had opened his mouth to tell her what she had done when Anabel continued, “I was too taken up with my own pleasure to provide for theirs. Have you ridden in the park at the fashionable hour, Christopher? I have never seen such a spectacle.”

The image of Norbury rose before him. He dropped her hand and sat back. “I'm told it is amazing.”

“So many human types. And Sir Charles knew them all, of course, and could tell me their histories. I don't know when I have laughed so much.”

“You like this Norbury?” He hadn't meant to mention him, but the question slipped out.

“I have never met anyone like him. He is…” Anabel tried to formulate an opinion while Christopher watched her narrowly. She had had a fine time on their drive the previous day. It had been a bit strained at first. Sir Charles had seemed annoyed, perhaps at having been kept waiting. But when they had begun talking, Anabel had again felt that nervous excitement he had aroused when they met. Sir Charles was certainly intelligent as well as handsome. His sketches of fashionable London had been hilarious, and it was obvious to Anabel that he was held in high esteem. Many people had greeted them, and others had looked and commented. She had been very conscious of her position beside one of the most elegant men in town. “…interesting,” she finished, a bit lamely.

“I see.”

She looked up, surprised at the dryness of his tone. “You do not like him?”

“I? I have hardly spoken one word to him.”

“I know, but…Mama has the absurd notion that he is not… Oh, never mind, Christopher. As if I could not take care of myself by this time.” Anabel laughed, her glance encouraging him to join her. But Hanford, convinced that she was far from able to take care of herself, remained serious, his lips turned down. After a moment Anabel's smile faded. She was puzzled. Christopher had always been the first to savor a good joke. Surveying him, she saw worry in his face. His bright blue eyes were shadowed. What was wrong? Knowing his love of the country, she thought that he might be missing his home. “When do you return to Hertfordshire?” she asked. “You will find everything much the same there, though Mrs. Petty has managed to wrest the Poor Committee from old Mrs. Duncan at last.”