A Spinster No More by Rose Pearson
Chapter Seven
“How could you be so careless?” a red-faced Mrs. Spencer railed at her daughter over lunch. Anne was surprised at how angry the usually kindly older woman was, though Caroline seemed to barely notice; she continued to eat her soup as if her mother was not even speaking to her – much less yelling loud enough that the entire street might hear. “To spend the entire evening with just one gentleman? And to ignore the one man we know has intentions towards you?” Mrs. Spencer‘s eyes flashed with fire. The fact that her daughter seemed unperturbed only served to make her more angry.
She turned her gaze upon Anne, who had been trying to keep her head down, and stay out of the matter, though she knew that as the girl’s companion she was as much to blame as Caroline herself – if not more so. Her position existed solely to protect her charge from such gossip and the behaviors that might lead to it. “And what sort of a companion are you?” Mrs. Spencer demanded of her. “That you would let a young woman do such a thing. I did not take you on so my daughter could be the subject of malicious gossip throughout the town. I should send you packing without a character.”
“There was nothing untoward,” Anne tried to protest, though she knew there was no defense. She should have insisted Caroline at least dance with a few other men present at Almack’s the night before for propriety’s sake – but it had been so nice to see Caroline and Henry together. They truly were two of a kind, a matched pair. “They were in a room full of people. They did nothing but talk to one another.” It was true, but Anne knew it was insufficient defense. There were rules to be lived by, and Society did not approve when its rules were broken.
“I know,” Mrs. Spencer exploded, as if the explanation made it so much worse. Anne had to admit, that the outcry had occurred much more swiftly and was much worse than she could have ever expected. There had been a number of so-called friends who had seen fit to arrive at the house this morning, and others who had written faux-sympathetic letters, all purporting to be concerned for Caroline’s reputation. Each one had gleefully regaled the scandal of Caroline choosing to spend her entire evening in conversation with Henry Cormick, and Lord Wilson’s embarrassment at being so slighted.
“All ruddy night – ignoring everyone else,” Mrs. Spencer added, then paused for a moment and looked back at her daughter. “Lord Wilson will not stand for such an insult. You can kiss goodbye to any hopes you might have had for a match with him. Your father will be furious to find he has come all this way for nothing.”
“We do not know that he no longer wishes to be affianced to me,” Caroline said looking up from her soup briefly. Of course, she was right. They had not heard a word from the man who was supposedly so affronted by her behavior – but Anne knew that was probably not a good indication as to whether or not he was upset or not, even if Caroline seemed unconcerned about that. A gentleman would not show his feelings in public. He would be licking his wounds in private.
“Because you did not speak to him,” Mrs. Spencer spat. “But let me tell you, my girl, he’ll not stand for such treatment. No man could. You’ve cuckolded him before you’re even wed.”
“Do not be so dramatic, Mama,” Caroline said calmly. “I shall speak with him tonight at Lady Hannover’s card party. I shall smooth everything out. You shall see.”
Anne knew that Caroline could be cold, but she truly did not seem to understand why Lord Wilson might not be open to even speaking with her at tonight’s event. Anne would be surprised if he even attended. Even if his heart was not affected by Caroline’s treatment of him, his pride would most certainly have been badly damaged by her snubbing of him the previous evening, and Lord Wilson did care very deeply for Caroline, even if she did not feel the same way. “Caroline, he may not even attend,” Anne said softly. “I do not know if there is a way to smooth things over. I am sorry, your mother is right, I should not have let you remain with Mr. Cormick all evening. I have let you down terribly.”
“Nonsense, if you had not lent me his book, I would not have enjoyed my evening at all,” Caroline said simply and without any hint of emotion at all. “I do so hate having to dance and pretend to be gay and opinion-less all the time.”
“You can be as opinionated as you like, once you are wed,” Mrs. Spencer said, almost apoplectic now. “Until then, you need to abide by the rules. No man will marry you after last night’s performance. I can assure you of that.”
“Mama, you are wrong,” Caroline said simply. “Lord Wilson will. Perhaps even Mr. Cormick will. Then there are any number of other silly men and old men who would be delighted to have a pretty bride. I shall simper and be what is expected of me again, I promise.”
Somewhat placated, Mrs. Spencer rose from the table having not touched her lunch. She swept from the room with the hauteur of a duchess. It was sometimes hard to remember that she came from much more humble stock. Caroline grinned at Anne, who was shaking her head – wondering how someone as clever as Caroline could have gotten everything so utterly wrong. Society might appear to welcome her, but she had always been on thin ice due to her background. She had upset many people – and they would not easily forgive her, no matter how well she behaved going forward.
“At least she did not put you out on the streets,” Caroline said in a rather tasteless joke.
Anne sighed heavily. “No, she did not. Though she should have done. I am at fault. I should have interrupted you – at least from time to time.”
“I am glad you did not. I cannot think of a time when I have been happier,” Caroline admitted. “Mr. Cormick can be most insightful – and also infuriating. It was such a delight to have someone actually listen to my thoughts and take them seriously.”
“I understand that,” Anne said. “Truly, I do. But Society frowns upon such things – and I should have done more to ensure that your name was not linked to any scandal. I feel that my intervention is to blame. They will not be so quick to forgive and forget as you hope, I fear.”
“Society means little to me, Anne. I do not see the point in all of its rules and prescriptions. Much as I dislike my Mama’s insistence that I be a polite and demure young lady, it is not who I am. Why do I have to pretend to be something I am not, in order to marry a man who will not like me once we are wed – because he knows nothing of the real person underneath the lies?”
She was right of course. Everything about the Season was designed to ensnare and entrap. It was only afterwards that anyone really found out what bargain they had struck. If Caroline could make a match with someone who accepted her for precisely who she was, would she not be happier? Would her husband not be more content? “Do you truly think that possible?” Anne asked.
“I did not before last night,” Caroline admitted and almost looked a little dreamy as she recalled the events of the night before. It was quite clear that Henry Cormick had not just touched her mind, but her heart – such as it was – as well. If Anne hadn’t been so concerned for the young woman and her future, she would have been delighted for her. It was not easy to find a true love match in Society. They were as rare as the finest rubies and emeralds.
“You truly like Henry Cormick?” Anne asked, astounded that this cold young woman might actually have found someone she could not only respect, but actually admire and hold genuine affection for.
“I do. He is not to everyone’s taste, as I myself am not,” she said with wry humor. “But he is clever and thoughtful, passionate and so very well-read. His opinions are carefully formed, and he argues them with force and vigor. He is the kind of man I could be myself with, I believe. He would encourage my intellect and would not mind if I disagreed with his conclusions – as long as I could explain sufficiently why.”
Anne couldn’t help herself, she chuckled. “Well, that is a turn of events I doubt anyone foresaw.”
“You do not mind? I had thought that perhaps you were sweet on him yourself.”
“No, I like Henry. He is, as you say, interesting and well-read. But he is not for me.” An image of Everton Cormick flashed through Anne’s mind. He too was interesting and well-read, and much more to Anne’s taste – though she knew that he would never see anyone but his lost Katherine in that way again.
“Do you think I should write to Lord Wilson? Perhaps I can explain to him what happened, that I just got carried away with the intensity of my discussion with Mr. Cormick?” Caroline said, unexpectedly thoughtfully. “I did not mean to snub him, or anyone else. Time simply got away from me.”
“A letter might be a good idea, but I would not say that. A man in love does not wish to think that the object of his affections was caught up so totally by the conversation of another man.”
“Oh,” Caroline exclaimed, her frustration clear in the tone of her voice. “Why are men so ridiculously prideful? Why do they need lies to placate and soothe them? It makes no sense at all to me.”
“I do not know, but they do seem to be most delicate about such matters,” Anne said with a smile. “Oftentimes even more so than any jilted woman I have ever known.”
“Will you help me to write something suitable? I do not wish him to think I do not like him. In my own way, I do. He is not as interesting as Mr. Cormick, nor as intelligent. But he is sweet enough. I must wed, and he is as good a choice as any.”
“If Mr. Cormick does not show an interest in such a thing?” Anne probed.
Caroline did not respond, but the way her cheeks flushed told Anne that she would not be averse to such a match. Given the current circumstances, with the scandal the two had unwittingly caused, such a match might be the only option left open to her. Society did not like to have its rules broken – and the pressure on the young couple to conform and silence the scandal might just work in Caroline’s favor. Even Henry Cormick, for all his non-conformity, would not be able to resist the full force of the Ton.
The pair made their way into the parlor and Anne sat down at the escritoire by the window. She took out paper and dipped a pen into the inkwell and started to write what she hoped would be an acceptable explanation for what had occurred the night before, that Caroline could send to Lord Wilson. It took the two of them six attempts to have something that told the truth, but also made it more palatable as Caroline was determined that she would not lie to Lord Wilson. They sealed it and had one of the kitchen lads deliver it to his house, and Anne prayed that he would be willing to accept it. They would find out if he could at the card party tonight.
The rest of the afternoon dragged interminably. Anne glanced at the clock on the mantel more often than she should have, as the pair played duets at the pianoforte, and painted watercolors to pass the time. Then there was the usual rush of preparations, newly pinned and curled hair, freshly pressed evening gowns to put on and then the carriage ride to Lady Hannover’s Mayfair townhouse.
Anne had never been so nervous. A veritable swarm of insects seemed to have taken up residence in her belly, though Caroline seemed to be as unruffled as ever. When they walked into the salon, everyone fell silent. Anne had grown used to late entrances and all eyes being upon them, as Caroline had insisted upon it in order to make an impression – but it felt very different tonight.
Anne glanced around to see if Lord Wilson was in attendance but could not see his sturdy frame anywhere. She did see the smiling face of Lady Gertrude, who beckoned the two of them over to her table. “Miss Spencer, Miss Knorr,” she said loudly, standing up and kissing Caroline’s cheek and clasping Anne’s hands affectionately. “I am so glad you could make it. The evening would not be the same without you.” Such an endorsement from someone who was so highly regarded would not do Caroline any harm at all. Anne hoped that Lady Gertrude knew just how grateful she was for it.
People around them began to look away and resume their conversations, but there were still occasional side glances and whispers. Anne knew that Caroline was the subject of every tables’ gossip. But then Lord Wilson arrived, and the silence as he crossed the room was deafening. Lady Gertrude smiled broadly, as if it was any other evening, as he made his way straight to them and bowed deeply. “Lady Gertrude, Miss Spencer, Miss Jessup, Miss Knorr,” he said greeting them all in turn.
“Well, I am very happy to see you here,” Lady Gertrude said. “Would you like to join us, to make up a four? Miss Jessup does not enjoy whist very much and Lady Hannover asked earlier if she might play the pianoforte for us all as we play.” It was deftly done, and Anne couldn’t help thinking that Lady Gertrude had been planning for just such an eventuality. She shot the young woman a grateful look. Lady Gertrude nodded and smiled in return.
“I should be delighted,” Lord Wilson said, smiling happily as he took the seat that Miss Jessup vacated to make her way to the instrument at the other end of the room. Anne could see that everyone present that evening had been expecting him to either not attend, or to be so offended that he would ignore Miss Spencer. There were many in attendance that seemed quite put out that Lord Wilson seemed to bear Miss Spencer no ill will.
Lady Gertrude deftly cut the cards and then dealt them each a hand. Lord Wilson took his cards, then leant closer to Caroline. “Thank you for your letter, Miss Spencer,” he said quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper. “It was most kind of you.”
“I wished you to know that it was nothing personal, of that I must assure you,” Caroline said earnestly. “I can get so caught up sometimes, when discussing something I am interested in. I…” she tailed off, as if it was something she simply could not help – and Anne supposed that in many ways, she truly could not. She had been so lost in the moment that nothing else had existed for her.
“I think I am man enough to forgive you for that,” he said generously. He truly was a very decent man, and Anne couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for him. He would never be able to engage Caroline the way Henry Cormick did, but he truly did care for her. He wanted her to be happy.
“I am so glad,” Caroline said, and Anne knew she meant it. In her own way, she did like Bertie Wilson. It was just a way that might not be enough for such a man, in the end.
