A Spinster No More by Rose Pearson

Chapter Thirteen

June 1820, London

The Spencer householdimmediately erupted into a flurry of frenzied activity. The dressmaker was called first. She arrived with four assistants carrying reams and reams of the finest silks, satins, velvets and other fabrics so Caroline might choose her trousseau. Caroline cared little for such matters, other than her clothing feel soft against her skin, so Mrs. Spencer and Anne made most of the decisions as to what she might need. Once the choices required for every gown and undergarment had been made, the plans for her wedding gown were discussed in minute detail. Anne was utterly fatigued by it all – and she enjoyed being fitted for gowns and discussing fashion. She could only imagine how Caroline must be feeling, given the poor girl hated such things.

Then came the discussions about venues and flowers, whether to have a large Society event, or a smaller more intimate one. Naturally, Caroline and Henry both preferred the latter – but given the scandal before their betrothal it was decided that a large wedding to show everyone just how in love the young couple were would be best. Added to all of these concerns was the round of appearances that the couple were expected to make in the run-up to their nuptials. They found themselves wanted by every Society hostess and were inundated with invitations. It was never-ending, and everyone was soon weary and fractious.

The only benefit, if there was such a thing, in the mad frenzy of anticipation and arrangements, was that Anne got to see Everton Cormick almost every day. He was ever present. Anne presumed it was to smooth any issues that might arise with his easy to rile brother, but it made her days pass more easily, and in much better humor than might have otherwise occurred. Neither Henry Cormick nor Caroline was suited to the amount of attention they were now subject to. They would happily have spent their days in the country, alone, away from Society and all its expectations. Both had fraying tempers and struggled to behave as was expected without a large amount of intervention from Anne and Mr. Cormick.

Despite or perhaps because of all the hustle and bustle, the wedding was soon upon them, with a combination of excitement, frustration and sadness on Anne’s part. She couldn’t help thinking about what her own life would be like once Caroline and Henry were wed. No longer required as a companion, she would be packing her bags and returning to Devon and might never see Mr. Cormick, Lady Gertrude or any of the other friends she had made in Society in the past few years for a very long time – if ever – again. She tried not to think on that too often, as it made her sadder than she could have ever expected it to.

Of course, she was delighted for Caroline. Every day, despite the difficulties the pair faced in order to act as a happy couple was expected to, Caroline and Henry seemed to grow closer and closer together. Every spare moment they could muster, they would be found in the relative peace and quiet of the library, poring over books and then discussing them with fierce passion and commitment. It was quite something to watch.

“They truly were made for one another,” Everton Cormick noted, coming up behind Anne as she leaned against the library door watching the pair as they escaped the party thrown in their honor by Lady Gertrude on this, the night before their nuptials. Both sat upon the sofa by the fire, their noses buried in books, their bodies so close they could be touching, yet there was no contact as that would be improper.

“I believe they were,” Anne said, turning to face him for a moment. He looked tired, but handsome in his evening suit. She longed to be able to reach up and push back the stray hairs that had escaped the ribbon at his nape, to caress his cheek, but instead she kept her hands folded demurely before her.

“I am so glad you brought them together,” he said, unexpectedly taking her hands in his. Anne found herself unable to focus on what he was saying to her, if he was saying anything at all. Her breath was suddenly coming very quickly. Anne was unsurprised to feel the same jolt of energy and fizzing pleasure as she had when their hands had brushed accidentally, all those weeks ago in the library. She did not want it to stop, it was such an invigorating sensation. Anne wondered if he had felt it, too, the surge had been so powerful, so strong. Time seemed to slow down and speed up all at the same time, leaving Anne feeling quite peculiar.

The moments ticked by. Mr. Cormick inclined his head towards her, his eyes looking into hers. Anne held her breath, wondering if he might press a kiss to her lips. He drew closer and closer. Anne’s breath caught. She didn’t dare to even move that much in case it shattered the moment. But, suddenly and without warning, he pulled away and stepped back from her. “I cannot thank you enough. You shall forever have my entire family’s gratitude.”

“It was nothing,” Anne assured him, nervously fidgeting with her hair as the pair then stood in silence. It truly hadn’t been hard to get them together, she had simply been testing a hunch that had turned out to be right. She turned back to look at Caroline and Henry. It was easier than looking at Mr. Cormick, especially now.

She wondered, for a moment, if she had perhaps seemed too eager for his kiss and that was why he had pulled away. No young woman in Society should act like a wanton. She was sure she had not been, but who was to judge what might be deemed too much? She had been too caught up in his beautiful blue eyes and had lost control of herself in that breathlessly exciting moment in a way she had never done before. Mr. Cormick made her feel things she knew that she shouldn’t be feeling, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.

“Do you leave immediately after the ceremony?” he asked her a few moments later, his voice unusually tentative.

“No, I shall attend the dancing afterwards, and see Caroline and Henry off to the countryside after lunch the next day. Then, Lady Gertrude has offered me the use of her carriage to return to my home.”

“I am surprised she did not offer you a position with her,” Mr. Cormick said. “I was so sure she might. She is very fond of you, and I know she wished to make you her companion before you were employed by the Spencers.

Anne smiled sadly. “I will not displace dear Miss Jessup. She and Lady Gertrude suit one another well, and I must confess to be glad to return home to spend some time in peace and quiet after all this chaos.” It was partly true. Anne had not seen her family in a very long time, and she longed to see them and to enjoy the peace and quiet of the cozy manor house she had grown up in. But she had grown fond of Caroline and Henry, Lady Gertrude, and Miss Jessup, and of course, the man who stood by her side. She feared she would miss him most of all.

“That is a shame,” Mr. Cormick said, his voice full of regret. Anne turned to face him once more. He looked truly saddened by her departure. “You will be much missed by many here in London,” he added in a clipped tone. And with that said, he had turned and walked away.

Anne was left standing alone in the hallway, unsure as to what had just passed between them. She didn’t dare hope that Mr. Cormick felt anything more for her than just friendship – yet he had acted as if he might. She shook herself down. It mattered little what he might or might not feel. That he felt he could not speak of it, with her so close to leaving, meant that he never would. Anne knew that he would be expected to make a better match than her – the daughter of an impoverished baron, trying desperately to improve his position in life.

But she was not free to speculate further, as Mrs. Cormick came and chivied Caroline and Henry back to the party, insisting they dance and speak with their host, Lady Gertrude, even if they spoke with nobody else. Anne found herself being called upon by a number of young gentlemen to dance, but unusually Mr. Cormick had not claimed a one of them.

At the end of the evening, the Spencers and the Cormicks were the last to leave Lady Gertrude’s party. As everyone made their goodbyes and thanked Lady Gertrude for hosting such a wonderful evening’s entertainment, Henry and Caroline were, as always, reluctant to part, even though they would never need be parted again after tomorrow. Anne watched as the two families said their goodbyes and made little jokes about whether all would go well or not the next day. Surprisingly, they had grown close and found much in common. Everton clapped Henry on the back as the brothers climbed into Everton’s phaeton, while Mr. and Mrs. Cormick took the more stately barouche behind.

Mr. Spencer offered his hand to his wife, who got into their carriage with a little difficulty. The weather had been unseasonably damp and it had made her joints stiff and sore, though she did all she could to hide her discomfort whilst they were in company. Anne and Caroline got into the carriage behind them. Caroline held Anne’s hand, unexpectedly, the entire way home and almost dragged Anne up to her bedchamber once they arrived.

“Do you think all will be well?” she asked anxiously, as she kicked off her dancing slippers. “I mean, after tomorrow. I know full well that tomorrow will be a nightmare.” She sighed dramatically.

“Tomorrow will be wonderful,” Anne said firmly. “You will enjoy it much more than you expect to. I know you don’t truly enjoy large affairs, but it will be different.”

“I know I cannot wait to see Henry’s home in the country. We will stay there for three months, at least. He assured me of it.”

“That is certainly the plan,” Anne agreed.

“He has told me of their library, and how quiet it is in Hertfordshire. It shall be bliss.”

“Do you not care to visit their hunting lodge in Scotland? I would imagine it is possibly even more secluded and remote,” Anne teased.

“But it will not have a library,” Caroline said. “How can it, if it is just a lodge?”

Anne shook her head. Caroline could be so very literal sometimes. “Get a good night’s rest,” she said as Caroline’s lady’s maid appeared to help the young woman get ready for bed.

“I doubt I shall sleep a wink,” Caroline said as the maid helped her out of her dress and into a nightgown. “I am too excited. Will you not stay with me? Without you, I would not have made it this far. I need you.” The maid put the dress away and fetched Caroline’s hairbrush. Caroline took it and tapped it on the palm of her hand.

Anne was touched. It was the nicest thing she’d ever heard from her young mistress. “Of course, I will stay if you wish me to.”

“I shall miss you,” Caroline said as Anne sat down beside the young woman on the bed and began to unpin her hair. Caroline handed her the brush, and Anne began to ease it gently through Caroline’s long, curled hair. Once it was soft and smooth, Anne plaited the silken blond tresses neatly ready for bed. Caroline sank back against the sheets. “I have never much liked being touched,” she admitted as Anne put the brush back on the dresser. “Do you think it will be as terrible as Mama said, tomorrow night, with Henry?”

Not knowing what Mrs. Spencer had told her daughter about her wedding night, Anne did not know how to respond. Anyway, it wasn’t as if she had any knowledge of such things herself. “I don’t know,” she said eventually. “I can only hope he will be gentle and loving with you.”

“He will be, he is a gentle man, is he not?” Caroline looked at Anne anxiously. “He would not hurt me?”

“I am sure he would not,” Anne said, and she was as sure of that as she could be of anything. Henry clearly cared very much for Caroline, in his own peculiarly cold way. Anne doubted he would do anything to hurt her. It wasn’t in his nature. He was curious, clever and a little distracted – but he was never intentionally unkind, even though he could be as blunt and direct as Caroline herself could be. “I believe the two of you are going to be so very happy, you will not even notice that I am gone.”

Caroline smiled, then laid down and closed her eyes. Anne laid down beside her and waited until the young woman’s breathing slowed and steadied, when she got up, blew out the lamps and retired to her own chambers. She got ready for bed herself and lay down in her own bed. She closed her eyes and prayed that sleep would claim her quickly, but it seemed that it was not to be. She lay awake, tormented by everything that she would be saying goodbye to.

Her departure had arrived without her having much time to think on it. There had been so many other things to consider. Yet it was almost here now, and she would soon be saying her goodbyes – not just to Caroline and Mrs. Spencer, but to Lady Gertrude, Henry, Miss Jessup - and to Everton Cormick. She had been so sure he had intended to kiss her tonight. She had wanted him to kiss her tonight. It would have ruined her own reputation – but she would have let him kiss her tonight.

She did not know how it had happened, but her affections for him had grown so strong, especially since they had spent so much time together planning this unexpected wedding. He had shown such patience with his mercurial and oftentimes difficult brother. He was able to diffuse moments when it looked as though Henry might dig in his heels and refuse completely, winning him over – as Anne had done much the same with Caroline. And he had often managed to do so with a gentle humor and always with kindness.

She would miss him most of all, and she had not expected that when she had set out from Devon all those years ago, to become Mary Durand’s companion. She had already accepted that she would not ever find the happiness of a good match. She could have settled for something less than that, and many people had told her she was a fool to write that off so young. But Anne had known that she could not have lived contentedly in a marriage that did not suit her, where there was no love.

And so, she had accepted that she would remain unwed. She had applied herself to her position and had found much enjoyment in the company of Mary and her dear father. Things had not been so easy, once Anne had come to work for the Spencers, but she had grown fond of them, for all their uncouth ways. They were fiercely loyal people, and Anne knew that they had grown fond of her in their own way, too. Yet it was not Mr. Durand, Caroline or anyone else she would miss the most. That honor would belong to Everton Cormick, who had won her heart without ever even trying to do so.