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Chapter Twenty-Four

Viv had little time to be heartbroken. She did not think of her brief, false engagement above once or twice in the quarter hour. It did take a bit of resolution at night when the house at last grew quiet not to wonder who Lark, her mysterious lover truly was, and why he had made such a game of her. If she could only write, she believed she would forget him.

By her count, Viv had not written a word in nearly a month, not since a week after she’d returned. Somehow a regular writing schedule eluded her in her mother’s house. Today she would begin again. A thin shaft of morning light fell on the bare wood floor as she reached under her bed to draw out her box of pencils and paper. For a moment the room she shared with Charlotte and Pippa was blessedly quiet. She realized how spoiled she had been in Lady Melforth’s house with a room of her own and a desk and endless supplies of paper, ink, and candles. And, a thing she never had at home, time alone.

She had little to show for her London sojourn, but her fashionable gowns. As she had predicted, they had already been remade for her sisters. London’s wide skirts had no place in their cramped Lennox Street rooms. Tonight, Charlotte and Pippa would wear real silks to the local assembly celebrating the twentieth anniversary of Waterloo. In a few hours there would be a parade along the Esplanade past a viewing stand erected near the old king’s statue, later the tea shops would open, the assembly would begin, and the evening would end in a fireworks display over the bay. With luck her family would be out on the town for hours and Viv could work on her latest project, the idea that had come to her in front of the Penitent Women’s Hospital. It was near enough to midsummer that the sky would stay light, and she would not have to borrow a candle from her mother’s supply.

Below a door banged open, and the latch to the girls’ shared room gave. The mingled scents of coffee and porridge and the sound of her stepfather’s half-joking grumble carried up the stairs. He complained that Waterloo, the army’s triumph, and not Trafalgar, the navy’s grand victory, always got the parades and fireworks. Then the twins, Anne and Eliza, began one of their usual quarrels. No one seemed to notice that it was Viv’s birthday. She knew that her mother had not forgotten, but she could detect no sign that the event would be mentioned.

“Well, we shouldn’t celebrate Waterloo at all if there are to be fireworks,” Anne said. “They disturb the gulls.”

“No fireworks because of gulls! Whoever heard of such a daft idea! When did gulls ever save the nation!” replied Eliza. “Gulls are a pure nuisance. They interfere with the economy and drive visitors away.”

“If the visitors had any sense, they’d not feed the gulls. Then the gulls would not dive at their hats and snatch food from their hands. The gulls would eat fish instead.”

“They’d still be useless. Visitors spend money. Gulls only scavenge and leave droppings. I say, bring on the fireworks!”

The quarrel was escalating as it usually did between the twins.

“Girls,” said their mother. “Your father is trying to read his paper.”

Viv heard the rustle of her stepfather’s newspaper and the snap of it closing. “This house has too many damned females. I’m going out.”

There was a flurry of apologies, cut off by the slamming of the front door.

“Sorry, Mama,” said Anne.

“Sorry,” murmured Eliza.

“Eat your breakfast, girls,” said their mother.

The front door opened again, and Viv heard Charlotte and Pippa enter. “You should see the Esplanade, Mama,” said Charlotte. “It’s very festive with bunting and flags, and the Assembly Rooms are nicely done up with flowers.”

“And so many gentlemen and ladies,” added Pippa.

Viv felt the happy energy return to the room below. She set aside her box and began straightening the sisters’ shared room until a light knock on the door interrupted her. “Viv,” her mother said.

“Yes, Mother.”

“You aren’t dressed for the festivities?” Her mother frowned at Viv’s writing box.

“Surely, the nation’s grand celebrations can happen without my presence.”

“Perhaps,” said her mother. “But this family needs you to find a husband. We really can’t afford your keep. You must see how on edge everyone is when there is less to go around.”

Viv started to say that Pippa and Charlotte would soon find husbands, but checked her words. Her mother’s helplessness was as immovable as iron. Her coppery hair had grown thin and wispy. Her pretty face had a dogged, settled look of resignation. The once white kerchief around her shoulders was gray and limp with repeated washings.

“You cannot languish at home spinning daydreams. You must make a push to be noticed. You must dress in your finest frock and attend the assembly tonight.”

“Yes, Mother.” The idea that Viv would meet a suitor there was laughable.

“And put that box away. I can’t have you taking candles from my cupboard.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Her mother stood frowning at her a moment longer, as if puzzled to have such a daughter.

“The girls will wait for you, but be quick.” Her mother turned away, and Viv heard her light footfall on the stairs.