***
One afternoon, Lady Strong had invited a number of the local ladies to enjoy what she described as a garden party. There was to be a picnic, an archery competition for the energetic and gentle strolls to admire the flowers, the new water garden and the statue of Pan recently commissioned from a York sculptor. By the middle of the afternoon, the heat having driven almost everyone to the shade of the terrace, a large pine tree or the pavilion erected for the occasion, tea was brought out, along with wine for those of a more robust constitution.
Winnie was engaged in walking backwards about the lawn holding Prudence’s hands so that she might perfect her walking technique, but as often as not she would tumble over, and eventually, when Prudence decided that crawling was the better option after all, Winnie simply lay down and allowed the child to clamber all over her.
She noticed James emerge from the house with the small salver used to convey calling cards, which was not unusual, but when her mother read it and gave a little squeak, Winnie grew interested. Someone important, then. Lord Rennington, perhaps? Not Lady Rennington, for she was still away, and Lady Alice never made calls.
Her mother composed herself very quickly. She rose and came with unhurried steps, the card in her hand, across the lawn.
“Winnie, dear, come with me. Nurse! Take the baby, will you?”
At once Winnie rose, brushing herself down as best she could, and followed her mother into the drawing room. Before she could speak, her mother turned to her, her eyes afire, and whispered in dramatic tones, “Oh, Winnie! He has come!”
“Who has come, Mama?”
She thrust the card into Winnie’s hand.
‘Mr Rupert Lomax, Wallingham Manor, Oxfordshire and Charles Street, London’
“Mr Lomax,” Winnie said, stupefied. “Well!”
27: A Magnificent Creature
Winnie was almost too agitated to speak. Mr Lomax here! Had he made enquiries, and realised that the story Walter had told him was untrue? Or had he perhaps decided that it did not matter after all? What did it mean? Was he going to propose after all?
Mama was excited, but also practical. “At least you have on one of your new gowns, so you look very well, as far as that goes, and there is no need for you to change. But your hair! Still, I may be able to fix it. Hold still a moment.”
With deft fingers, she pulled and tucked and pushed, and shifted pins around until she was satisfied.
“There! You will do. He is in the book room with your father. Let us go and greet him, shall we?”
Winnie’s nerves almost got the better of her as she followed her mother with shaking legs across the hall and into the book room. What would he be like? Would he smile or be stern? What would he say? Would it be awkward? How would—?
He looked exactly the same. As soon as she entered the room, he jumped to his feet, a beaming smile on his face, and crossed the room to grasp her hands.
“Miss Strong! How delightful to see you again, and looking just as charming as ever. I need not ask if you are well, for I can see that your native Yorkshire air agrees with you. How pleased I am to be here, in this most interesting of counties. You spoke of it so much and extolled its great beauties, so here I am to see it for myself.”
He raised both her hands, and kissed them, one after the other, keeping hold of them afterwards. There was no denying his genuine pleasure, or the admiration in his eyes. He was just as ardent as he had been in London.
Behind her, her mother coughed gently.
“Oh… Mama, may I present to you Mr Lomax. This is my mother, sir.”
Finally, he released Winnie’s hands, and made his elegant bow to Mama. They all sat, and began the usual conversation for callers newly arrived after a journey — the roads, the difficulties of travel, the dust and heat and flies, the indifference of the inns, the pleasures of the scenery. He enquired after the health of Aunt Sofia and Uncle Edmund. Winnie enquired after his mother. Uncle Alfred and Walter arrived, summoned from their study to greet an old acquaintance, and began another round of the same remarks. The roads, the dust and heat and flies… Winnie supposed she answered rationally, but her thoughts churned in her mind so greatly that she could not be sure of it.
And now she had Walter to worry about, for his face was grave, and she recalled how he had mocked Mr Lomax and called him a coxcomb. He disliked the man, for some reason she could not quite understand, and although he would offer him no insult, his quietness disturbed her. She had thought they were growing closer again, but now his silence and stern expressionwas a return to the worst days after they had arrived from London, when she had feared they would never be on a friendly footing again.
Mama asked Mr Lomax if he would like to meet the other members of the family and the garden party guests. He professed himself willing, offered his arm to Winnie, and they progressed through the hall and the drawing room and thence to the terrace. To say that their arrival caused a sensation was something of an understatement. Mama took him triumphantly from group to group.
“This is Mr Lomax, who rescued Winnie from thieves in London. Mr Lomax, who became acquainted with Winnie in London. Winnie’s friend, Mr Lomax of Wallingham Manor in Oxfordshire.”
He bowed repeatedly, murmuring each name that was tossed at him, although he could not possibly remember even half of them. The matrons inclined their heads regally to him, the younger women rose to curtsy, Harris and Lionel shook his hand and everyone ogled him shamelessly. He seemed not to mind.
Winnie hardly knew where to look or how to behave as she followed him around. Although he was the centre of attention, for surely the North Riding had rarely seen such a stylishly dressed man, she was herself the focus of many a knowing glance as well, and she was most unused to such direct observation. She could see the speculation in their eyes as they looked at him, and then at her, and then again at him.
For fully half an hour, Mr Lomax made himself agreeable to the ladies, and when it looked as if he might leave, Mama said brightly, “Perhaps you would care to see some of the garden, Mr Lomax? The water garden is a refreshing sight in such heat. Winnie, why do not you show Mr Lomax about? I am sure he must be pleased by the rose wall.”
Mr Lomax smiled and said that it sounded charming, offering his arm to Winnie with a little bow. Whatever came of this visit, it was pleasing to be the recipient of so much attentiveness from a man. Apart from Mr Seymour, no one had ever courted her before, and he had been so discreet that his offer took her entirely by surprise. So they walked about the gardens, while various others of the ladies walked about too, talking about the blooms and the charms of the water garden, but all the while watching Winnie with Mr Lomax.
