Walter merely raised an eyebrow, but Winnie was instantly curious. “What is so strange about that, William?”
“Oh… nothing, nothing at all, sister. Indeed it is rented out to a widow.”
“But not a respectable one?”
Walter laughed. “You should not ask, Mouse.”
“Why not?” Lily said, suddenly alert. “What is the great secret?”
“Because it is a subject not fit for discussion in the presence of young ladies,” William said primly.
“Pft!” Lily said in disgust. “Gentlemen are always saying that, or else it is Mama says I am too young to know this or that.”
“And she is quite right,” Winnie said quickly. “There are many subjects which are not fit for the ears of an unmarried woman, and a well-brought-up young lady does not enquire further. Are we to play another rubber, or shall we abandon play for tonight? I am sure the tea tray will be appearing at any moment.”
Lily was quick to declare a wish to move on from cards, and William too jumped up and hastened to his wife’s side, leaving Winnie momentarily alone with Walter. She could not resist. Leaning towards him, she whispered, “Whatever is the widow up to, do you suppose?”
“Youreallyshould not ask,” he whispered back, his face alight with mischief. “A well-brought-up young lady—”
“Very amusing. But my curiosity is roused, and I shall imagine all manner of activities if you do not enlighten me. Is it something illegal?”
“Possibly, but judging by Plaister’s embarrassment, it is more likely to be immoral.” He hesitated, then said in a lower tone, “I suppose the widow entertains gentlemen. Alone. At night.”
“That would be very bad,” Winnie said thoughtfully. “I suppose she must be lonely, being a widow.”
Walter smiled at her, and, reaching across the table, took her hand. “You put a kindly light on such behaviour — would you then forgive her for her sins?”
“Of course. God forgives all, and we should do the same. Nothing is unforgivable, Walter.”
“Nothing?” His voice was barely audible.
“Nothing at all,” she said firmly.
***
This conversation raised Walter’s spirits so much that he was humming quietly as Rashleigh helped him undress that night.
“A pleasant evening, sir?” Rashleigh said, with a benevolent smile.
“Very pleasant indeed.”
She would forgive him, in time. Perhaps she had already forgiven him, although that might be too much to hope for. But in the future, after a few weeks or months… surely not years? And whenever that time came, he would be waiting, ready to offer her his heart.
It was strange to think that he had known Winnie all his life and never thought of her as more than his good friend. There had been long spells, months sometimes, when he had not seen her at all, and had not even thought about her, except an odd fleeting memory now and then of something funny she had said, or an example of her intrepid nature, or a joke they had shared. Then, when they did meet, it was as if they had never been apart.
Yet now… thoughts of her filled every free corner of his mind. When he woke each day, she was the first thought in his head, and he could barely wait for breakfast to see her again. Then there might be precious moments during the day when they would meet, and eventually a whole evening together. Tonight he had even managed to share a card table with her, although his penance for that had been Lily as a partner. Not that Lily was unintelligent, but she was by far too interested in the conversations on other tables to attend to the game. Not like Winnie, who could hold a conversation while playing anexcellent game, and yet always aware of others. She it was who had noticed that Mr Alfred’s wine glass was empty and had waved to the footman to attend to it.
Winnie… dearest Winnie, who perhaps would behisWinnie one day, if he were very fortunate. Winnie with the glossy brown hair that never quite behaved as it should, for there was always a lock or two adrift from the pins. Winnie with the shining eyes, and the smooth cheeks… how he would love to touch those smooth cheeks, to feel their softness… to press his lips against them. How would she react if he did so? Would she laugh and tell him not to be silly? Or slap his face? If she were shocked… no, he could not bear to see that expression of hurt dismay on her face, not again. Nor her anger.
‘I would not marry you if you were the last man on earth!’
But she did not mean it… did she? No, he would not allow himself to think it, for if his case were hopeless, how could he bear it? He had to believe he could win her one day, or he would go mad.
Such thoughts were not sensible. Today had been good, for he had enjoyed a delightful evening with her, and tomorrow might be even better. Each day brought him a little closer to the restoration of his former friendship with her, and perhaps to something more, but he must not allow his thoughts of Winnie to distract him from his other responsibilities. His work with Mr Alfred, for instance, which was proving unexpectedly enjoyable. If it were not for leaving Winnie behind, he could happily leave for London tomorrow to begin his new career. And then there was his own family… which reminded him of something.
He lit an extra candle, and sat down at the small writing desk in his room. Pulling out a sheet of paper, he began to write.
‘To Captain Edgerton, Corland Castle, Corland. Captain, I have today discovered that Mr Nicholson owned two businesses in Pickering, a chandlery and an ironmongery.Possibly a haberdashery, also. In addition, the property which Nicholson owned, which is leased to a widow, may be in use as a house of ill repute. This may be of interest to you, if you are not already aware of it. Yours, Walter Atherton.’
