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Not for anything would Theo admit to the arrival of the man in question a week or so ago. So she hedged and spoke vague murmurings of the person appointed as being trustworthy and sure.
“I suppose it was that rather plain-featured man we saw last week,” Lady Bellingham said with the slightest of curled lips. “Notthe kind of man I should expect to be acquainted with such a handsome hero, but there is no accounting for taste, is there?”
“Indeed not,” Theo had said as gravely as she could.
Friday arrived, and the scent of Becky’s favorite dinner drifted through the house. The rooms were all placed in order. Theo surveyed the dining room, hands on her hips. Fresh spring blooms spilled daintily from vases galore, echoing the colors of the new gown Mama had quickly fashioned as a parting gift for Becky. It would be several more weeks before she could enter half mourning, but the pelisse trimmed with purple velvet was, according toLa Belle Assembléeladies’ magazine, quiteen vogue. All that awaited was for the man himself to finally grace them with his presence.
“Oh, where do you think he is?” Mama whispered, wringing her hands.
“He is probably still on his way,” Theo assured. “He likely has many last-minute details claiming his attention.”
Captain Balfour’s acceptance had arrived this morning courtesy of Mr. Drake, whose visit this morning had also delivered the admission that Mannering was to be closed, and that he and the missus would take off for her sister’s place that very day.
“The captain said he would be right in finishing the packing up and the locking up of the place. Mannering looks a hundred times better than it ever did. I never knew the walls of the hall were that color before,” Mr. Drake had confessed.
“Then it was a good thing to do.”
“Hard work, though. I never worked as hard in my life.”
She didn’t doubt it.
“Anyway, here is a little note from him to you, miss, and he wanted me to pass on his good wishes.”
“Thank you. And I trust you and Mrs. Drake will enjoy your new circumstances.”
“Thank you, miss. I can’t say that we haven’t earned it.”
“Indeed you have,” she said warmly. “And I know that Rebecca has been most comforted by your careful tending to both her needs and that of the house.”
She’d summoned Becky, who was quick to offer her thanks and goodbyes before returning to her packing upstairs, which allowed Theo privacy for the reading of Captain Balfour’s note.
She’d broken the seal and unfolded the paper.
Dear Miss Stapleton,
Thank you for your kind invitation. You may be sure that I am pleased to accept, although I shall have to plead an early night in order for us to leave by nine the following morning.
Yours etc.,
Daniel Balfour
She’d traced his name, then shook her head at herself.
Well, there had been no word that he was reluctant to own his identity tonight, so she would have to let things occur as they may. And seeing no point in standing and dreaming, she had returned to the myriad of tasks to be completed.
But now she joined her mother in watching the clock, waiting as the hour hand passed from seven to eight with no sign of the man in question.
Their other guests had all arrived, and the dinner would spoil if not served soon. She stole to the drawing room, where she could see the drive and any late arrivals. Becky chatted with her friends as the other guests conversed quietly. No one seemed to notice anything amiss. Perhaps none of them—save Becky—would wonder at the absent final guest.
Not that they’d yet admitted to who exactly he was, simply saying that Becky’s uncle had made arrangements for her to be transported on the morrow, much to the horror of Lady Bellingham, whose protests of “But who shall chaperone you, my dear?” creased worry in Theo’s heart that she hadn’t been as circumspect with arrangements as she ought.
“I think we best serve the meal,” she now whispered to her mother.
“But the captain is not here.”
“It can’t be helped,” she said, conscious of a small thread of irritation. He knew the importance of tonight. Why hadn’t he worked harder to be on time? She moved to speak to Mrs. Brigham and Mr. Siddons about serving the meal shortly, returning in time to see Becky exclaim over a gift from Lydia and Patricia before wrapping them in a tearful hug.
“Oh, the poor thing.” Mama studied Becky with a fond expression.
