A Spinster No More by Rose Pearson
Chapter Eighteen
Everton could hardly wait to get away from the crowd of people surrounding him. He had intended to explain everything to Anne, it was why he’d brought the miniature with him – so she might understand why he had been so strange on Henry and Caroline’s wedding day. And now, she had seen the portrait – but did not have any understanding of its significance. He could have kicked himself for being so careless. He should have left it in his room, until he was able to find a quiet moment to speak with her. If only he hadn’t met her on the stairs like that. It had reminded him of just how much she meant to him. How much he longed for there to be no secrets between them – and then he had unwittingly added more.
He glanced around the room. The older men present were huddled at one end of the table, no doubt talking business. His friends, at the other end were all joking and laughing with one another. None of them seemed to notice he wasn’t joining in. Perhaps they would not notice if he got up from his place and went outside for a walk to clear his head. He needed to think what to do. What should he say, to explain it all to Miss Knorr? She had looked so disappointed in him, so shocked that he would carry with him what she must have assumed was a portrait of his sister-in-law.
Quietly, he stood up and made his way out through the French doors onto the wide stone terrace. He moved towards the balustrade, leaned on it and looked out over the moonlit gardens. He sighed heavily as he pulled out the miniature of Katherine and stared at her lovely face. He truly had made such a mess of absolutely everything. He did not know how he would ever be able to put any of it right. “This is why you should never have left me, my darling,” he whispered. “I am a mess without you to tell me what to do all the time.”
He looked up and was surprised to see a lone figure walking between the flower beds of the formal garden. He knew it was Miss Knorr. She had such a definite, yet graceful manner of moving and the tilt of her head was quite peculiar to her. “Is this a sign?” he asked the portrait. “Are you telling me to just get on with it, to tell her everything and see where it takes me?”
He tucked the miniature back into his pocket and slowly made his way down the ornamental stone steps into the gardens. His long strides meant he soon caught up to Miss Knorr. He cleared his throat as he drew close, so she wouldn’t be shocked by his sudden appearance. “It seems I have so much more to apologize to you for,” he said with wry humor.
She turned slowly, her face lit up by the brightness of the full moon. She looked almost ethereal she was so lovely. “You need not explain anything,” she said. “We have never been more than friends.”
“Oh, I think we both know that is most certainly not true,” Everton said giving her a disbelieving look.
“I am,” she paused, “was” a lady’s companion only. It is not my place to assume that there is anything more than an acquaintanceship between myself and those within the circle of my employers.” Her voice sounded strange, almost monotone as she said the words that any servant should say.
“You were much more than Caroline’s companion to me. I do so hope you know that,” he assured her fervently. “I have counted you as a very dear friend for quite some time.”
Her expression was so full of hope, it made Everton’s heart almost break for her as he realized the harm that he must have done to her for her to think that he did not care for her. But she composed herself once more. “Mr. Cormick, how should I know that? We have never spoken of such matters.”
“I know, and I am sorry for that,” he admitted. “I should have been much more clear about my feelings for you.”
She shook her head. “There was no need. I should have never assumed anything more than my place with Caroline.”
“Nonsense,” Everton said, feeling unexpectedly angry. Why was she making all of this so easy on him? He had been unkind, rude and even untruthful to her – and she was assuming any fault was her own for thinking that a servant could ever have a friendship with him.
He inhaled deeply. “I think we should start from the beginning,” he said trying to keep calm. “Miss Knorr, I am sorry – more sorry than you will ever know – for the manner in which I treated you on your final days in London. It was unforgiveable – whatever your position in Society. I was rude and unkind. You did not deserve me to be either.”
“It was very unlike you,” Miss Knorr said softly. “I couldn’t help thinking that you blamed me for being too forward, for that moment in the library.”
“Being too forward?” Everton couldn’t stop himself from exploding. “You were not forward, you have never behaved inappropriately in all the time I have known you. But I wanted to.”
“You did?” she asked, wide-eyed with surprise.
“Did you not feel it, even the first time we danced at Wycliffe’s wedding? You were, are perfect, Miss Knorr. I have felt drawn to you from the moment I met you. I can think of nobody I would prefer to talk with, to dance with, to simply be in a room with.”
“Yet you have so often seemed so distant?”
Everton paused. The time had come to tell her the full truth. He so wanted to do it. He wanted her to know everything. Yet a part of him was afraid that she might turn away from him once she knew it all. He needed her. He loved her. He could not bear to lose her or be parted from her ever again. He knew that now. And so, there was so much more to lose than before. He glanced around the garden, trying to regulate his shallow, nervous breath.
“Are you quite well?” Miss Knorr asked him placing her delicate hand upon his arm. He took it between both his hands, marveling for a moment at the difference in size, and forced himself to smile at her.
“I am,” he assured her. “But I have much to tell you. Perhaps we should take a seat somewhere, in full view of the house. I should not wish to ruin your reputation.”
She chuckled at that. “I do not think it much matters, given I am too old and too poor to have a London Season. Young women such as myself do not fear the gossip and scandal of being caught alone in the gardens with a young man.”
Everton laughed too. It was so like her to dismiss any concerns she might have for her own wellbeing. And he found it sad that she had such a low opinion of herself. “Nonsense, you are not too old,” he insisted. “Mary was older when she was wed to William, as was Sophie when she met Wycliffe. And as to your lack of capital, well, that is not a concern to someone such as myself who will inherit a vast fortune someday.”
Rather than looking reassured by his words, she actually looked more confused. Everton shook his head ruefully. “I am sorry, I am not explaining myself well. Please, can we go and sit on the terrace. I think I need a moment to get my thoughts together, so I might explain everything to you.”
She nodded, happy to acquiesce. He offered her his arm and was delighted when she took it as they walked back towards the house. When they reached the terrace, he pulled out one of the cast iron chairs at the little table there for her, so she might sit, then took the seat opposite her. He pulled out the miniature and laid it on the table between them. She picked it up and studied it closely. “She looks so very like Caroline, but it is not her, is it?”
“No, it is not,” Everton confirmed. “That is a portrait of my former fiancée, Katherine.”
“Oh,” Miss Knorr said. “I did not know you had been affianced.”
“No, there are not many that would think to mention it now. It was many years ago.” Everton expected her to ask him a hundred questions, but instead Miss Knorr sat patiently, waiting for him to say more. “We met when I was eighteen and she was sixteen. I believed her to be the love of my life. We had a long engagement, because of our age, and the plan was for us to be wed once I completed my education at Oxford.” He paused, girding himself to say the next part out loud.
“She fell ill with influenza, a month or two before we were due to be married,” he said quickly, spitting the words out before he could change his mind and stopper them back inside. “She was so very sick, and she got weaker and weaker and her fever never broke.”
Miss Knorr reached out and placed her hands over his, where he had them clasped tightly, resting on the table in front of him. “Oh, Mr. Cormick, I am so terribly sorry. No wonder you have been so torn and troubled. Caroline’s debut must have caused so many difficult memories to resurface for you.”
“I must confess, the first time I saw her, I thought I was seeing a ghost.”
“I am not surprised. The likeness is quite uncanny. All those times when you seemed a little distracted suddenly make perfect sense. You would sometimes stare at Caroline in such a way.” She paused. “I think it lucky that Caroline is not the type to notice such things. She might have found it quite concerning otherwise.”
“Oh, I had so hoped that nobody had noticed,” Everton said. He had tried so hard to be discrete, and because Caroline had never mentioned it had assumed that his peculiar behavior had not been obvious to others. Usually, the subject of such scrutiny is fully aware of it, but Miss Knorr was right, it was not the sort of thing that Caroline would ever pay attention to. It simply hadn’t mattered to her.
Miss Knorr sighed. “I think I understand why you were so out of sorts at the wedding now.”
“You do?” he asked. “Because I did not, not for the longest time.”
“It must have been a terrible experience for you, seeing Caroline as a bride. All those memories of what might have been with your Katherine.”
“But I knew that Caroline was not Katherine. I had believed myself to be, finally, getting past my grief – yet it was as if a wave of memory engulfed me and wouldn’t let me be.”
“Grief is a strange thing. From day to day we can be managing quite well, content and happy, and then it floods over us once again,” Miss Knorr said sagely. “My brother died when I was only fourteen. We had been so very close. And I grieved so hard for him when he was gone. It was part of the reason I did not really throw myself into my own Coming Out and therefore missed out on finding a husband. I was too broken-hearted and the young men of Devon and Cornwall did not wish for a maudlin bride.”
“Is that why you were so keen to get away, to come to London? Because of your grief?” Everton asked. He had not known of Miss Knorr’s brother. Such a loss, at such an early age must have been hard to bear.
“Partly,” she admitted sadly. “I wished to get away from my shame, too, that I had not found a match.”
They sat quietly. Everton pondered what she had said, the loss she had suffered. Yet she had never spoken of it to anyone, at least he did not think she had. She had certainly not ever spoken of it to him. And what was wrong with Society, that a young woman was left feeling ashamed, as if she was somehow at fault, if she did not find a husband by a certain age? It had always puzzled him, but now he was furious, on behalf of all the women who had been made to feel they weren’t good enough or were somehow defective because they had failed to attract the attentions of some country squire who would probably have made their lives a misery anyway.
