Elspeth guided us to the door. She had seemed animated enough when we arrived, but as she showed us out, her steps seemed to drag, and as soon as we were out of the gate, Augusta turned, shaking her head.
“I must admit to being rather too happy to take my leave of Wren Cottage,” she said ruefully. “Does that make me dreadful?”
“The room was a trifle stuffy,” I agreed.
“Not simply the room!” She dipped her head towards mine confidingly. “Elspeth is unhappy. And nothing poisons the atmosphere like an unhappy woman.”
“Is she really as dissatisfied as all that?”
“My dear Veronica! Were you not listening? A lifetime of service to the villagers. Assisting Timothy, knitting and sewing and carrying beef tea to the infirm. Reading to the elderly.”
“It is a very common life for a spinster in a country village,” I said mildly.
“Indeed. And I wonder at what cost,” she said. She put her arm through mine and we walked along the village road. “I wonder how different our lives would be if we were free to do as we pleased.”
“But I do,” I said.
She turned to me with an expression of real interest. “Tell me.”
So I related to her the life I led, the voyages of exploration to secure specimens for my exacting clients, the work I did for Lord Rosemorran in his burgeoning museum, the private collections I assessed and repaired.
“And not without companionship,” she ventured slyly.
I slanted her a look and she burst out laughing. “Forgive me. But Inoticed a frisson between you and Stoker. And you make a devastatingly attractive couple. Is marriage in the cards?” she teased.
“It is not,” I assured her. “I mean to keep my independence—as does he.”
“There is so little security for us ladies. Do you not fear for your future?” Her voice was no longer gently mocking. She was concerned, sincerely so, and I appreciated her worry.
“I do not fear what I cannot control,” I said stoutly. “I have taken care of myself since I was eighteen years of age. And I will do so as long as I am able. Beyond that, I cannot say.”
“You are either very wise or very foolish,” she said at length. “I wish I knew which.”
“I wish I knew myself,” I told her truthfully. “But I cannot be other than I am.”
“It is astonishing to me that men think us such delicate and irrational creatures. You say you have known your own mind since you were a slip of a girl. As did I. We have never wavered from our convictions. We are not shifting sands or changeable weathercocks. We are women of principles,” she said, warming to her theme. I had, in fact, wavered once and permitted myself the luxury of dependence upon a man who did not deserve it. The lesson had been a bitter one but perfectly learnt. I would not deviate again, for any man’s sake.
“But they sit in judgment upon us like the lords of creation,” she went on in the same tone of mild exasperation I had heard her use in conversation with Elspeth. “I confess, I do wonder sometimes what it must be like to be them, to go through life with such unerring confidence, such unquestioned supremacy. To make all decisions and never feel obliged to defend or discuss.”
I smiled at her. “I think it is apparent how much Sir James defers to you,” I said. “The London house is still furnished according to your taste, is it not? And the cellar full of drinkable wine?”
She laughed. “Very well. I do manage to get my way rather often, I will admit. James is easily talked round. But it is theeffortI mind. How much simpler to devote oneself to one’s pet interests instead of always having to justify what one does with one’s time.”
“And what are your pet interests?” I enquired.
“The needs of women,” she said promptly. “Particularly those who have fallen from virtue. I have a house in Finsbury where girls who wish to leave the sinful trades are welcome and taught their letters and useful skills as well as Bible lessons. And I do other charity work, raising funds for an orphanage in Leeds and an asylum in Surrey—the one I wished to discuss with Timothy. I am keenly interested in the treatment of incurable insanity. It must be, above all, humane,” she said firmly. “I would give all of them up in order to support suffragists if James would hear of it. But that is one cause to which I am not permitted to lend my name. He is utterly apoplectic at the very idea.” Her smile turned suddenly conspiratorial. “I did manage to donate twenty pounds by telling him it was for an anti-vivisection society, but you mustn’t tell him.”
I twisted my fingers against my lips as if turning a lock. “Your secret is safe with me.”
She tipped her head like a bright bird, assessing me with those lovely eyes. “You are a breath of fresh air to me, Veronica. An absolute tonic. I am very glad to have made a new friend.”
I considered the paucity of such friendships in my life and discovered I was glad to have met her as well.
“Come,” she urged. “Let us hurry back to Cherboys. I am in need of a proper cup of tea.”
“Thank you, but no. I mean to explore the village a little more. Oh, I quite forgot—how is the count after his bee sting?”
She made a little gesture of dismissal. “Still moaning, the last I saw. But I gave Beatrice the oil of lavender and I have no doubt it willhelp him. I only hope he is recovered by dinner. Tiberius has promised us a spectacle!”
