“Your sisters both suffered because others judged them because of your mother’s horrid behavior,” said Mina, pushing aside the blindness she’d so willingly accepted to feel her way to the truth. The closer she got, the more her chest constricted, her conscience pricking her until there was no comfort to be found. “I’d never thought I would be so cruel as to do the same, but I realize now I judged Miss Banfield too swiftly.”
Shifting so he could face her, her husband held her gaze. “You are being unkind to yourself at present.”
“Am I? Without ever having spoken to the young lady, I deemed her unfit to be around my children. That is the definition of unkind.”
Simon shook his head. “It is the definition of imperfection, Mina. You needn’t be so hard on yourself.”
“Perhaps, but I think it time we lay aside our pain and listen to our children.” Her pulse quickened at that thought, but Mina refused to allow all the fears for their future to sway her from her present course. “We needn’t rush to publish the wedding announcement, but we should start by speaking with Miss Banfield.”
The ticking clock punctuated the silence that followed that.
“Our son is courting a Banfield,” said Simon with a groan.
Mina closed her eyes against the twinge in her heart over those words, but she turned her thoughts away from that woman and all the worries for the future. Leaning her head against her husband’s shoulder, Mina held fast to him.
“No matter what happens, we will overcome it,” she whispered.
“That is hardly the sentiment I want attached to my son’s courtship,” muttered Simon.
Giving a halting chuckle, Mina shook her head. “True, but what if Lily is correct? If this young lady is the proper fit for Oliver, could we forgive ourselves for stepping between them? Could he?”
Simon pressed a kiss to Mina’s head and held her tight. “Then ‘once more unto the breach, dear friend, once more.’”
Mina smiled to herself and let out a long sigh, and added, “And pray that Lily’s hunt for a beau will be less trying. We ought to be spared this anxiety with one of our children.”
Chapter 28
Plenty of people adored the country. Even if they did not care to spend the entirety of the year in the fields and farmland, most relished the opportunity to pass a few months among the quaint landscapes and customs found outside the city. But with most of a fortnight left in her rural confinement, Victoria felt like cursing the wretched place—and the Nelsons for hosting a month-long house party.
Who did such a thing anymore? With railroads crisscrossing the country, one could enjoy a few days’ jaunt rather than wasting away for weeks in a place that had little to no enticements. What did the country folk do with themselves without balls, concerts, plays, and all the like?
Society was so decidedly limited out in these remote wastelands. Morning calls took little time to complete, and then there was no place to gather during the day, such as a park or museum, to pass the time. Even fine weather was not enough of an enticement to tramp the same unending fields of Bristow. Victoria had already spent a fair amount of time admiring and experiencing the landscape, and there was no more to be done with it.
And so, the ladies of the party found themselves sequestered inside with all the mundane pastimes one could do at home. How she envied the Thompsons and Kingsleys for having their own houses to escape to when the company grew stifling.
Victoria’s book was more a prop than a source of entertainment, for she had not the heart to delve into anything deep. Or anything light, for that matter. However, Victoria clung to it, allowing herself to hide behind the pages.
For once, no one was paying her any heed. The past few days had been so full of sympathetic glances and words steeped in pity that Victoria was ready to shout at the next person who dared infer what she felt.
Ladies—both old and young—were scattered around the parlor in a few pockets of conversation while the majority contented themselves with reading, writing, or sewing. But none of her set was present, as Hettie had wandered off somewhere alone, Lily was not visiting today, and Phyllis would not arrive until later.
On their own, Victoria’s eyes wandered from the empty words on the page to the young lady in a solitary corner of the room. Miss Banfield clutched her book, making a better show of reading than Victoria, but then that young lady’s light eyes connected with hers, and for the first time since her courtship with Mr. Kingsley had ended, Victoria did not feel a resounding irritation at the emotions pointed in her direction.
Granted, Victoria did not wish to see the apology any more than the pity, but Miss Banfield’s feelings of guilt did not raise her hackles. Victoria welcomed an acknowledgment of her and Mr. Kingsley’s role in the current situation; it gave her some satisfaction to know someone understood the price she’d paid by freeing him.
If not for Miss Banfield’s ill-timed reappearance in Mr. Kingsley’s life, Victoria and he would be engaged and planning their forthcoming nuptials. There would be no need for reorganizing her plans. Or for nights filled with fretful dreams. If not for Miss Banfield, all would be right in Victoria’s world. If not for her altruism, Mr. Kingsley would be beyond Miss Banfield’s reach. If not…
Victoria stopped her thoughts from traveling that road. Ignoring her culpability in this situation by wrapping herself in self-righteousness was never helpful.
Her hand fell to the arm of her chair, her fingers tapping a rapid percussion muted by the upholstery. It was then Victoria noticed how much her jaw ached, and she released the tight clench of her teeth; with a covert movement, she wriggled it to loosen the muscles.
For good or ill, Victoria had been the one to break with Mr. Kingsley. It had been the right thing to do.
She lifted the book, hoping to hide the way her eyes drifted back to Miss Banfield, and ignored the prick of jealousy that came and went; a lady would need to be made of stone to feel nothing when facing her former beau’s currentamour, but the sentiment was not worth fostering when Victoria, herself, had been the one to throw them together.
Miss Banfield was a solitary creature. With the exception of Mr. Kingsley and his sister, few in the party paid her much mind—including the young lady’s family. So, it was no surprise to see her sitting apart from the others, ensconced in one of the many books she’d pilfered from the Nelsons’ library. The family may not be great readers, but they boasted a diverse collection of works, and Miss Banfield had availed herself of their hitherto untouched books on local flora and fauna.
A voice to her right drew Victoria out of her examination.
