“You thinkMr Turnerwants to marry our Lindy?”
Had Belinda been holding anything in her hands, it would have clattered to the floor.
“Barbara, you must mistake him,” Rose tutted, her mirth dispelled. “Lindy is a very pretty girl – certainly many men gaze at her a little too long.”
“Sister, I have witnessed that man’s wooings of not one, buttwowives, heaven keep them both. When Turner’s on the prowl, he slinks around, gurning and laughing like a fool. Last Sunday, after church, he started over towards Lindy — his face quivering like a ferret were crawling up his trouser leg, so I dragged her out of the nave quick-like. I needn’t tell you what a fine kettle of fish we’d be in if he offered for her and she rejected him, yet no one with a pair of eyes and a brain in their head would expect her to accept him.”
“Yes, with John under his roof, Mr Turner must be kept contented, but certainly not by Belinda sacrificing herself.”
“That’s the way I see it! So you must take her awaytoday. Oh, where is the girl? I thought she’d be back by now.” There was rustling as if Mrs Everson had heaved herself up from the settee to go and look out of the front window.
“Perhaps, if you tell her of your suspicions outright, she will be more inclined to accept my invitation.”
“Hmph! I can see why you’d worry, as your previous plan for her came to naught.”
“I beg your pardon – what can you mean?”
“Oh Rose, don’t pretend with me! Last spring, as soon as you learned that that Dr Alwyn fellow would be coming here twice a week, you hastened Belinda home from Whitehall. Andat first, I thought your plans were Fate itself, seeing the way his eyes shone every time he talked with her! But then – nothing!”
Holding her breath, Lindy waited for her aunt’s response, which did not come.
Mamma and Aunt Rose had hopes for me there, but I failed them both.
She felt quite ill as her mother went on.
“At his last visit, I was so cross with him that I nearly tossed him out. Too in love with his profession to see the jewel within his grasp – that’s what I think!”
“Hmm, poor Lindy…and on the heels of seeing my Nell so happily situated.” Rose’s voice regained some of its typical confidence. “London is full of eligible young men…if only we can get her there. Goodness, have I become a conniving aunt?”
“You have played worse rôles in your life, and you mean to help my girl, so I absolve you of it.”
The sisters shared a little laugh.
“The tea’s gone cold,” Rose said. “No, no. I’ll go. I know how to work the hob.”
Hearing her aunt’s footsteps, Belinda darted outside, and hurried back down to the solitude of the riverbank.
Mr Turner wants tomarryme?
Suddenly, the wheelwright’s strange behaviour in front of the milliner’s two days earlier all made sense – horrible, nauseating sense.
Several months prior, Rose had gone to Mr Turner’s house to settle the terms for John’s apprenticeship, and Belinda had accompanied her. Sitting in the kitchen, they sipped tepidtea and tried not to giggle while a large mongrel under the table leaned against their legs and licked at their ankles. Several times, the wheelwright’s young daughters had come in, pretending to check a pot on the stove, though neither steam nor scent arose from it. Belinda had understood their interest as surely no lady as fine as Mrs Rose Caspar had ever visited their home before.
It had been a quaint, homely scene, but the thought that Mr Turner wanted her to become a permanent fixture within it, turned her stomach.
If I go to London with Aunt Rose, then his eye will have to settle elsewhere.
Yet it sounds as if my aunt is set on finding me a match in town — Ha! Her love for me blinds her. If Mr Alwyn, who truly seemed fond of me, could not look past my deficits, then no fine gentlemen in London would.Mr Turner’s doltish face flickered into her mind, and a groan escaped her.Yet, it seems Imustgo to town.
Unhappy with, but certain of, her next step at least, she returned to the cottage, announcing her arrival with a loud banging of the back door as she stepped into the kitchen. There was silence in the front room as she smoothed her countenance and went to stand in the doorway. Both women gave her a searching look as she said, a little too brightly, “Aunt Rose, you are here already!”
“Lindy, darling!” Her aunt shot up from her chair, and strode forth to embrace her.
“I thought my sister had come to see how I got on,” Mrs Everson said, not bothering to look up from the knitting she had just taken up. “But so far she’s spoken of nothing but you.”
“Me?” Belinda turned to her aunt inquiringly, which felt very much like a lie.
“Lindy,” Rose grasped her hands and began to swing her arms playfully. “I’d like to invite you to accompany your uncle and me to town. It’s time we got you situated.”
