“Arabella, wake up this instant!” Aunt Julia stood above my bed, shaking my shoulder. Her hair was still in rags, a white nightdress draped over her figure.
I blinked against the bright light pouring through the open curtains. During my time in Bath, I had grown accustomed to sleeping through the noise of Milsom Street early in the mornings, but now that I was awake, I heard every rattling carriage from down below. I sat up quickly at the urgency in Aunt Julia’s eyes.
“What is it? Is something amiss?” My gaze darted around the room. Aunt Julia slept on the other side of the room with a writing desk between the two beds. Her covers were still strewn about, hanging off one side of the bed. Hannah stood near the door, her apron dusted in flour.
Dread sank through my chest. Had Freddy been up to mischief again?
“This came for you.” Aunt Julia plopped herself down on the edge of my bed, dropping a neatly folded square of paper onto my lap. I stared at the writing on the front—the perfect slants and curves that spelled my name.
Miss Arabella Sharp
I tried to swallow, but my throat was too dry. I had a suspicion about who the letter was from. My heart hammered fast in my chest. “May I have some water?” I asked when I saw a glass sitting on the desk.
Aunt Julia nodded, rising quickly to fetch it. I gulped down one sip before a wave of revulsion made me nearly spit it out. The hot, bitter water burned as I swallowed it. I should have known Aunt Julia would only sip the sulfurous mineral water from the Pump Room in the mornings. She sent Hannah to fetch it daily, and I had avoided drinking it since my first taste weeks before.
I coughed, handing the glass back to Aunt Julia. “Thank you,” I managed. With a deep breath, I unfolded the paper to reveal a few short sentences.
Dear Miss Sharp,
I thoroughly enjoyed our walk yesterday. If you are not otherwise engaged, I would be delighted to receive you for a picnic in my gardens this afternoon at two o’clock. I hope you have not misplaced your chaperone. She is invited as well.
Yours truly,
Mr. Campbell
No. 6 The Circus, Bath
I stared at the brief message for a long moment before looking up at Aunt Julia’s eager expression. She sat mere inches from me on the bed. I most certainly wouldn’t be misplacing her anytime soon. “Who is it from? Is it from Mr. Campbell?” She was polite enough not to lean over the note to read it herself, but I could see the temptation gleaming in her eyes.
“Yes.”
A gasp erupted from her mouth. “What did he say?”
“He has invited me to a picnic in his gardens this afternoon.” I could hardly believe the words even as they left my mouth. “At two.”
Aunt Julia shot a glance in Hannah’s direction. Even our maid looked shocked.
“What wonderful news! Splendid!” Aunt Julia grasped my arm tightly. “You must write a response to him at once!” She practically dragged me out of bed toward the writing desk, pulling out the chair and pushing down on my shoulders until I sat in it. With a huffed breath, I pushed the rags I had tied in my hair the night before away from my eyes. I had never courted a gentleman before, so I hardly knew what to say. My act of indifference was the only thing that seemed to be working, so I lifted my pen and wrote:
Dear Mr. Campbell,
A picnic does sound like a pleasant enough way to spend an afternoon, especially if there is a pineapple involved. I assumeyou will be serving one? I will arrive promptly at two o’clock with my aunt.
Miss Sharp
“A pineapple?” Aunt Julia hovered over my shoulder.
I slapped my hands over the paper. “No.”
“That is what I read.”
“You must have been mistaken.” I quickly folded the paper and wrote Mr. Campbell’s name on the outside in my most elegant hand. Before Aunt Julia could question me further, I waved Hannah forward and slipped the note into her hand. She would deliver it promptly, I was confident.
Aunt Julia scowled at me when I turned around. “I hope you are not making demands of Mr. Campbell. You are fortunate that he has noticed you at all. I cannot wait to tell your mother about your courtship. Think of how pleased she will be to learn that you are courting a man of Mr. Campbell’s standing. She never would have thought it possible.”
I tried to brush off the insult, but it lingered on my skin, digging under the surface like a thorn. I knew it wasn’t my fault that I didn’t attract very much attention from gentlemen, but it still stung when I passed year after year without a proposal. The financial difficulties my family faced were not a secret to most of society, and John’s reckless reputation hadn’t gone unnoticed in Dorset. With such dismal connections and a lack of a dowry, I relied solely on my accomplishments and appearance, which did not extend far. She hadn’t said it aloud, but I knew that Mama had sent me to Bath with Aunt Julia with the hopes that I might miraculously find a match.
My heart ached to think of how very shocked she would be to learn that a man had brought me flowers.
