Lydia sat for a few minutes longer, thinking. She had developed an alarming tendency lately to say and do impulsive things she later regretted. Was going away so abruptly something she would regret doing? Specifically, running away home to her father and her brothers—and her sister-in-law? Running away from Harry? Would coming back in a few weeks’ time be even harder than staying now and facing him the day after tomorrow? Would she find it impossible to come back and so slip into the old life again, her lovely freedom and independence here merely a fading memory?
Lydia sighed after a while and ran a finger between Snowball’s ears and along her spine. “You and I are going on a journey tomorrow,” she said. “Will you like that?”
Snowball waved her stub of a tail and nudged her nose at Lydia’s hand to encourage more petting.
Ten
He was quite adamant at Christmastime,” Viola, Marchioness of Dorchester, said, “and he had not changed his mind when he wrote in February. He does not like being in town, especially during the Season, and he has no plans to come here this year.”
“I daresay,” Jessica, Countess of Lyndale, said, “he knows very well that if he comes here we are bound to arrange something for his birthday. He would hate it. Poor Harry.”
She laughed, and Elizabeth, Lady Hodges, laughed with her.
“Poor Harry, indeed,” she said.
“He wrote the same thing to me, Aunt Viola,” Jessica added.
“And to me,” Matilda, Viscountess Dirkson, said. “What a provoking boy he is, for sure. Though Charles keeps reminding me that he is no longer a boy.”
“He is a provokingman,” Mildred, Lady Molenor, said.
The five ladies, as well as Anna, Duchess of Netherby, and Louise, the dowager duchess, were gathered in the dining room at Archer House on Hanover Square, the Duke of Netherby’s London home, to discuss the matter of Harry.
“Plan B it is to be, then?” Anna said. “We will go to him since he will not come to us?”
“There was a wistfulness about him at Christmastime,” Viola said, frowning. “Marcel says I was merely imagining that Harry is not happy living all alone at Hinsford, like a hermit. He points out that it is the life Harry has chosen quite freely. But Camille agreed with me, and so did Abigail. Even Mary did. My sister-in-law,” she added in case any of her Westcott relatives had forgotten.
“Wistfulness?” Elizabeth asked.
“Oh, he enjoyed himself,” Viola said. “He did not even mind being mauled and pestered by all the children. He joined in every activity with enthusiasm. He scarcely stopped smiling. He seemed more reluctant than usual to go back home and even went with Abigail and Gil to Gloucestershire for a few weeks. I believe he felt his aloneness.”
“It is possible to feel more alone in a crowd than in solitude,” Matilda said. “No, Mildred, that isnotnonsense, though you roll your eyes. Harry is lonely.”
“It is also possible to be alone yet not lonely,” Elizabeth said.
“But Aunt Viola says Harry lookedwistful,” Jessica reminded her.
“He also enjoyed Christmas,” Louise said, “even though the house must have been very crowded and very noisy. He will enjoy a birthday party to cheer him up.”
“Ihopehe will enjoy it,” Viola said. “He will at least see that we allcare.”
Mildred patted her shoulder, for she was desperately trying to hold back tears.
“I will never forget,” Anna said, “how gravely ill he looked when he arrived back from Paris and we all went down to Hinsford to see him.”
Matilda blinked her eyes, cleared her throat, and took charge—something at which she excelled. Their meetings, when they had a particular object in mind, did have a tendency to lose focus as various tangents were followed and one led to another.
“We need to divide up the list of letters that need to be written,” Matilda said.
Seven blotters had been spread around the table, with a neat pile of paper and an ink bottle and a quill pen above each.
“The letters do not have to be long,” Matilda continued. “We sent a copy of both plans to everyone concerned after Christmas—andthattook us a long time. Now all we need do is instruct everyone to ignore plan A and familiarize themselves with plan B. Dates and times and important details are clearly stated there, and we must emphasize that everyone should follow those details to the letter. It is very important in particular that we all arrive on the same day. Better yet, we should all aim to arrive during the afternoon, within three or four hours of one another. We wish to surprise Harry, and we can do that most effectively if we all descend upon him at as close to the same time as possible.”
“Poor Harry,” Jessica and Anna said in unison, and they all laughed—even Matilda.
“Louise,” Matilda said, “write to Mother and Aunt Edith, if you will. They are coming to town soon, of course, but it is important that they arrive in time to rest for a day or two before going down to Hinsford.”
“Ought I also to mention Aunt Edith’s niece and nephew?” Louise asked. Miranda Monteith, Aunt Edith’s niece on her late husband’s side, was one of the three young ladies chosen for Harry’s perusal, though no one in the family except Aunt Edith herself knew the young woman, and even she had not seen her since she was a girl of fourteen.
