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Theo predicted the next days would pass immeasurably slowly, counted in the steady ticks of the clock and in the busy nothings of domestic duties. But Becky’s request for help with sorting and storing her mother’s things soon filled Theo’s time, while bringing its own challenges. Clara’s possessions held poignant memories: an ivory fan Theo had once given her, a book of poems they’d laughed over, the traipsing through memories proving both bitter and sweet. Still, it was another way she could say goodbye, even though it seemed there were far too many goodbyes to be had in what felt too close a time.
She thought by now she’d been inured to departures, but with the loss of the captain from their neighborhood and the upcoming loss of Becky’s company, it seemed Theo faced a future infinitely bleaker than she had known. Talk of London, of travel, of a future that had always seemed too remote to even pay heed to, now seemed a little closer, a little more tantalizing. Sometimes she was half-tempted to ask sweet Becky if she would like Theo’s company as a kind of companion. But then the thought of leaving her mother to her grandfather’s ever-volatile moods soon damped down such foolish fancies.
Oh, but how wonderful it would be to have a life beyond these four walls. To dare dream that there might exist a man in this world—whose name was not Frederick—who might wish to share his life with her. Over the years, she had worked hard to find contentment, so at night she’d pray and ask God to take such desires away, only to wake up each morning with the thoughts still firmly entrenched.
At least progress at Mannering came steadily, and daily was the wonder at what changes had been wrought. It was a pleasant surprise to see by Tuesday’s end that the gardens had been scythed and weeded, and the front door had been scraped and freshly repainted. Apparently the captain’s instructions to Mr. Drake had encouraged steady focus for once.
Inside, too, Becky’s gasp at seeing the front hall transformed from dust and dirt to clean and bright echoed Theo’s surprise. She complimented Mrs. Drake, who had overseen the changes, finally able to spend the money in order to set the house to rights.
“I did not think I would ever see this place shine again as it ought,” Mrs. Drake confessed. “And it has done my heart no end of good to see things as they ought be once again. As they should have been in your dear mother’s time, Miss Rebecca.”
Becky nodded, the quick sheen to her eyes suggesting tears were not too far away. This prompted Theo to wonder aloud what Becky’s uncle would say when he returned.
“I hope he will be pleased,” Mrs. Drake confided. “I have had a letter from my sister asking that Mr. Drake and I go and live with her. She’s in Berwick, you see, and her husband died not so very long ago, and she’s in a big house all of her own, and desperately lonely. And when this place sells, well, I don’t fancy staying on here forever. It gets so awful cold, you see, and my rheumatism isn’t what it was, so if we could live with Sister by the seaside, then I think I should be quite content.”
Theo nodded but said nothing, envy lodging words in her throat. Mr. and Mrs. Drake did deserve to spend their twilight years in comfort, but oh, how she wished she might be the one to see the sea. To have any kind of adventure, really.
“My uncle wrote and said he’d return this Thursday and hopes to begin the journey south on Saturday.” Becky trailed a hand along the cleaned plasterwork lining the hall.
“You will not get far,” Theo said. “Not with having to rest on Sunday.”
“He mentioned staying with friends at Langburgh.”
“Is that not on the sea?”
At Becky’s nod and “I believe so,” envy struck again.
“How lucky you will be.”
“I wish you would come with me.” Becky reached for Theo’s hand.
“You are sweet, but it cannot be. My mother cannot fend off the dragon that is my grandfather alone, now can she?”
As hoped, Becky laughed, and Theo shifted the conversation to suggestions for a special dinner to bid farewell to Becky on Friday night before she’d leave.
“Just a quiet affair,” Theo said. “It’s not as if we could arrange anything on a grand scale, not at this short notice.” And not when Becky should still be in mourning. “Perhaps we can invite some of your friends too.”
If the truth of Captain Balfour’s identity was discovered at such an event, then that could solve several problems. He need not be forced into more entertainments he had no wish for, yet learning of his identity would still prove to the locals that he’d received an honor of sorts. Yes, she nodded, such an event would prove of benefit indeed.
Chapter 8
After discussing matters with her mother and grandfather—who had not been shy in offering his opinion that it would be good to see an end to all this fuss—they had finally decided that yes, a dinner to farewell Becky should occur.
“Just a quiet dinner,” Theo proposed. “I’m sure it would help her feel loved and appreciated.”
“I do enjoy a good entertainment.” Mama straightened, eyes bright. “Do you think we could invite dear Seraphina too?”
“I think it will prove of far too short notice, Mama, but perhaps we could see if she might be persuaded to come in the next few weeks.” It might be good to see her sister, despite their at-times-fractious relationship. Having a new focus would be good for them all, especially for Mama. They would all miss Becky, Theo told herself firmly, unwilling to acknowledge that she might miss the company of Becky’s uncle too.
She wrote to her sister, then sent out hastily scrawled invitations to Becky’s dearest friends plus a few notables who would be most hurt to learn that England’s hero had been in their midst incognito all this time. Not that she admitted to his being in attendance at the farewell too. That would prove a surprise sure to surpass any turtle dinner.
The next days passed in a flurry of preparation: cleaning, cooking, running here and there to help the servants, while also assisting Becky in her packing. Becky’s things had already been moved to Stapleton, so she hadn’t needed to return to Mannering to collect anything. And yet it seemed the selection of gowns, bonnets, shoes, and the little trinkets a girl deemed necessary simply refused to be easily fitted into the trunks and boxes to be taken to London. Added to this was the vacillation over precisely which of Becky’s mother’s and father’s things should be taken and which should be stored or sold or given away. The job had enlarged in significance quite substantially, so the farewell dinner would serve as a fitting reward for all the hard work of the week.
Acceptances for the dinner from Becky’s friends demonstrated a mixture of anticipation and grief at this honor before their dearest Miss Mannering quit the neighborhood. The responses from their elders proved to be of a rather more questioning nature.
The likes of Lady Bellingham—whom, despite not being one of Becky’s chosen friends, proved impossible to leave out—had teased and tugged to know precisely who the mystery man was who would escort their dear Miss Mannering down to London.
“I cannot conceive how such a hero of England should not want to visit our sweet part of the world and do his duty for his niece. I don’t mind confessing to you, my dear Miss Stapleton, that this rather tarnishes the halo I thought he possessed.”
