“He was always clever at seeming sincere,” Maude continued. “He was always a great favorite with the ladieseven when he was quite a young boy. He used that charmto try to attract a rich wife when there was no money left.He almost succeeded once, I believe, until he was cut outby someone else. Now he is after Harriet. He has beenvery clever. He has waited until it has become unlikelythat I will ever bear an heir. Harriet would not be such anheiress, you see, if I had a son. But now he thinks itreasonably safe to put his plan into effect. I thought evenHarriet would have had enough sense to discourage hissuit, but she has begun to favor him, I think because shehas been disappointed by Mr. Sinclair’s lack of ardor.”
Rebecca was silent. She did not know what to say. Shecould not doubt the truth of what Maude said. Mr. Bartlettwas her brother, and Maude was not one to indulge inspite for no reason. Yet she found it almost impossible to adjust her mind to the new image of the charming and amiable gentleman she had known for several weeks. Mr.Carver, too, had called him a viper. Could it be possiblethat he had done so with good reason, and not merely indefense of his friend whose enemy Mr. Bartlett was?
“Fortunately,” Maude said, slowing her pace and seeming to recollect herself somewhat, “his lordship has given me his support, though he does not know the truth aboutStanley. Harriet went to see him before dinner while I wasdownstairs fetching his medicine. I was very vexed; I hadforbidden her to worry her papa when he is so obviouslyunwell. But she gained nothing. When I came back intothe room, he was telling her quite roundly that Stanley hasbeen here long enough and that if I saw fit to tell him topack his bags, then that is the way it must be. She wasvery chagrined, knowing that I was there to hear what hesaid. But I am relieved, Rebecca. In three days’ timeStanley will be gone and Harriet will be safe from thatperil, at least. Not much harm can come to her in themeantime, I believe.”
“I am sure Harriet does not feel any deep attachment to Mr. Bartlett,” Rebecca said. “Once he has gone, she willturn her attention to someone else, I am sure. She hasalways been the same, Maude. I am afraid constancy is notone of her chief virtues. Please do not worry about thematter. Everything will turn out well. Uncle Humphreywill probably feel more himself in a day or two—indeed, Ihave never known him to miss the fair. He loves to presentthe prizes at the end of the day. And Harriet will soonhave her head full of some new attraction. You will be freeto concentrate on gaining back your health and spirits.”
“Bless you,” Maude said. “I do love you, Rebecca, and I shall miss you dreadfully when you are married andremoved to the parsonage.”
And quite inexplicably she stopped in the middle of the pasture, put her hands over her face, and burst into tears.
Chapter 14
The annual village fair really had far more to offer the people of the lower classes than the gentry. The games ofskill, the races, the exhibitions of needlecraft and baking,the food stalls and tearoom, the stall that sold ribbons andcheap and garish baubles, the jugglers, the fortune-teller,and the dances around the maypole seemingly had nothingto attract the superior minds of the rich and educated. Yetfor as far back as she could remember, Rebecca has always looked forward all spring and summer to this particular day.
And she was not alone. Uncle Humphrey and Aunt Sybil had always spent the better part of the day and theevening in the village, graciously bestowing nods andbows on lesser mortals and presenting the prizes at the endof the day. That description was unfair to Aunt Sybil, sheadmitted. Her aunt had never condescended. She hadmingled with her husband’s tenants and laborers with thegreatest delight, as had Mama and Papa. And the Sinclairswere always there and all the other landowners for milesaround. It was one of those occasions that was popular forno explainable reason.
Only twice could she remember the day being spoiled by rain. The first time she had been ten years old and hadcried and cried, her nose pressed miserably against thewindow of her room in the parsonage, because she hadnew white gloves and would not be able to show them offto Christopher Sinclair—even then there had been Christopher. The other time was the summer after her unofficial betrothal came to an end, a summer when she had been soout of spirits that she really had not cared.
This was not to be the third occasion, Rebecca saw as soon as she woke up and glanced to the window of herbedchamber. Even through the velvet curtains she could seethat the day was bright. She was glad. For the first time inseveral weeks she felt positively cheerful and full of energy. For several days now she had looked forward to theday of the fair as a kind of boundary marker in her life. Itwas a day that was somehow to mark an end and abeginning. It was probably the last day that Christopherand Mr. Carver would be there. Tomorrow or the next daythey would leave for London.
She would be sorry to see Mr. Carver go. She liked him and saw him as a gentleman of good humor and goodsense. And she dared not consider her true feelings onChristopher’s departure. When her mind came close torealizing that she would probably never see him again, shehad to focus it quickly on other topics in order to avoidpanic. But even so, she was glad the day had come. Oncethey were gone she would be able to concentrate on thefuture as it must be. And it was not by any means a bleakfuture that she faced.
She was glad too that this was the last day of Mr. Bartlett’s stay. She had liked him and still found it difficultto believe all that Maude had said about him. Yet it mustbe true. And indeed, the day before, when he had beenalone with her on the terrace for a short while and hadtried to enlist her sympathies for his predicament—in loveas he was with a wealthy girl and innocently open tosuspicion as a fortune hunter—she had found herself looking at him with new eyes. And she had been able to seethat perhaps it was all an elaborate act: the charm, thehumility, the sincerity.
Once this day was over, perhaps she would be able to believe in the reality of her own wedding plans. It was hard to believe that in little more than a week’s time she would be Philip’s bride. There was to be nothing elaborateabout the day, but Maude and Harriet had already planneda wedding breakfast at which they hoped more than twentyof their neighbors would sit down.
Most of all she welcomed the day because she had decided that something must be done and she wanted itover and forgotten. She would have to talk to Christopher.She had to thank him for what he had done for the schooland for Cyril in particular. She did not know why she feltthis was necessary. It seemed clear to her that he had notwanted her to know about his involvement. But she didknow, and she felt embarrassed about the contempt shehad shown for his interest in the school since his returnhome. She had to let him know that she knew and that sheappreciated his efforts despite her personal feelings abouthim.
The thought of seeking him out and deliberately initiating a conversation with him terrified her and excited her all at the same time. It would be the last time, the lastchance to establish something of goodwill between them.And it was important to her to do so. She could no longereven pretend to hate him. She could still, of course,despise his weakness, and she could still believe that hehad treated her about as badly as it was possible for a manto treat a woman. But she could not hate him. Puttingaside all personal matters, she could even begin to respecthim again. And she clung to this possibility. Christopherhad been first and foremost a friend, someone she hadlooked up to despite all his mischief for as far back as shecould remember. Had she not fallen in love with him,perhaps she would never have stopped liking him.
Lord Holmes finally convinced even the most cynical of his household that he was not in good health by refusing torise from his bed even for the fair. Maude had told no oneexcept Rebecca about the doctor’s disturbing suspicion. Hedid, however, insist that Maude run along and enjoy herself. She was to deputize for him and present the prizes on his behalf. She agreed to drive into the village in the gig with Rebecca.
Harriet was in an almost dangerously gay mood. She chattered to everyone at breakfast, even Maude, whom shehad pointedly ignored for two whole days. And she waswearing a new dress of figured pink muslin, which lookedvery fresh and youthful with her dark hair and eyes.Rebecca had expected her to be sulky, knowing that thiswas Mr. Bartlett’s last day. Perhaps she was merely determined to make the most of it, Rebecca thought, and feltrenewed relief that Maude’s brother was soon to be safelyout of the way.
Harriet expressed her determination to drive into the village in Mr. Bartlett’s curricle and tossed her head as ifexpecting to have to do battle. But Maude wisely offeredno comment. They were all to leave the house at the sametime and the journey was to be made in broad daylight. Itwas perhaps best to allow Harriet one small victory whensoon the war would be won.
Rebecca saw Ellen and Primrose as soon as they entered the village. The sisters were standing at the market stall,an array of brightly colored ribbons dangling from thehands of each. Her heart began to thump uncomfortably.The Sinclairs were here already, then, and in a small placelike this there would be no avoiding any of them for long.Now that the moment was upon her, she found that shewas not prepared at all for her planned meeting withChristopher. She took the coward’s way out and duckedinto the schoolroom, which they had been able to offer thisyear as a tearoom, where the weary could come and sit fora while out of the sun and refresh themselves with tea orlemonade and cakes.
She was not surprised to find Philip there, standing in his usual straight-backed way with his hands clasped behind his back. He was talking to a cluster of women whowere setting out cakes and scones on plates.
“I was just saying, Miss Shaw,” one of the women sang out across the room, “that we are right proud of our Dan’l. Him able to read and all! Soon he won’t even be talking to his mum and dad, I said to him last night. Buthe hugged me that tight, ma’am, and said he wouldn’tnever forget who brought him into this world and fed andclothed him.”
Rebecca smiled broadly. “Daniel has been one of our star pupils,” she said. “I am so glad you are pleased withhis progress.”
“My Lucy says why can’t she learn as well, Miss Shaw,” another of the women said. “Her father said toher what nonsense it was for a girl to want to read. Suchnotions they do get!”
Rebecca was not sure if the head-shaking contempt for the notions was directed at Lucy or Lucy’s father. “Ibelieve it is just as important for your girls to learn as it isfor the boys,” she said. “It is the dearest wish of my heartthat soon we will be able to educate them too.”
A lively debate ensued in which, rather surprisingly, there were heated opinions on both sides. Rebecca wouldhave thought that an all-female audience, with the exception of Philip, would have strongly favored her opinion.
Philip finally took her by the elbow and steered her from the building and into the garden bordering the parsonage.She relaxed beside him. It was quiet here, away from thebustle that was already developing in the street. She smiledup at him.
“Is it not lovely to have the school closed for just a while and to be able to relax?” she said. “We seem tohave so little time just to be together, Philip.”
He did not return her smile and he did not take up her topic. “I would rather you did not talk in such a waybefore the villagers,” he said curtly.
Rebecca frowned in puzzlement. “What do you mean?” she asked.
