Chapter 18

Chapter 18

The following morning, Lenora woke to an empty room. She struggled to a sitting position, still feeling sleep-muddled and almost as weary as if she had not slept at all.

She sat for a moment, gathering her thoughts, then she remembered the day before. “Poor Dorian,” she said aloud to the empty room. “A fine sort of friend I am to spill a confidence. I think I should go and apologize to him right away. No doubt, I have caused him all sorts of trouble.”

Lenora rummaged through her closet, debating which of her five dresses to wear. She settled on a simple linsey-woolsey, embroidered with tiny rosebuds. She and Miss Tunstall had spent most of a whole month making those rosebuds, something she would not admit in polite company since making one’s own clothing was less than genteel.

Even though she had pricked her finger more than once during the embroidery process, Lenora loved the feel of the soft fabric and the way it graced her figure. It was her favourite dress, and no one needed to know how often she’d had to quickly set it aside to keep from staining the fabric.

When she went downstairs, she found her mother already at the table, entertaining Miss Blanche. Both of them stopped talking as Lenora entered the dining room, a circumstance that caused her to feel most uncomfortable.

To cover her uncertainty, she asked, “Where is Father? And where is August?”

“Off doing gentlemen things,” her mother replied, with a vague wave of one hand. “I doubt if their activities would be interesting to us. What are your plans for the day?”

“I think I need to apologize to Dorian for something I did yesterday,” Lenora said.

“Oh?” Lady Temple packed a world of enquiry into the single syllable.

“I blurted out a confidence, a rather sensitive one. I truly hope he will speak with me.”

“That sounds like an admirable mission,” Lady Temple approved. “I do think it is a good idea to keep peace with old friends. You never know where an association might lead.” She smiled sweetly and gave Lenora a tiny half-wink.

Lenora groaned. “Mo-ther! You know that Dorian and I are the best of friends. At least, I hope we still are. But we are nothing more than that. It simply would not work. I want to travel. Dorian is devoted to St Justus and Bath. I love to be flamboyant and shock people. Dorian needs to be circumspect and persuasive to fund his various projects. I am selfish. He is generous . . .”

“You know,” Iris Blanche put in, “being married to Dorian wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen to you. He’s put up with you this long and remained your friend. Surely, marriage papers would not change that.”

Lenora just stared at Iris. “That is a very strange observation, all things considered,” she said.

Lenora reflected that letting Charles Hooper and Iris know that Dorian was engaged to Emma had been a serious test of friendship, but at least he and Dorian seemed to be friends, and Iris was supposed to be her friend. Telling her mother might place her entirely beyond the bounds of reasonable breach of confidence.

“He’s more like my brother than a suitor,” Lenora continued to protest.

“Who are you trying to convince,” Lady Temple asked, “me or yourself?”

“Neither,” Lenora grumbled. “I’m just saying what I know.”

“Why don’t we go for a walk around the grounds,” Iris suggested. “It will give you time to think of what to say to Dorian, and we can visit for a little while.”

“Very well,” Lenora said, immediately rising from the table.

“Are you not eating breakfast?” Lady Temple asked.

“I’m not hungry,” Lenora replied, even though she was feeling rather hollow. The young ladies paused in the hall to get their pelisses and hats. The day was brisk, so they both had their heads and necks swathed in woollen scarves in an effort to keep the wind off.

“Do you suppose it will ever truly warm up?” Iris asked.

“No idea,” Lenora replied. “We’ll just have to set a fast pace to get our blood pumping.”

Iris giggled at that. “I’m not a horse or hound, you know.”

“I know,” Lenora said. “Sometimes, I wish I was. Horses and hounds do not have to worry about betraying confidences.”

“They do apologize, though,” Iris said. “I had a little dog who loved sweets. He would steal biscuits whenever he could. Then he would display his belly and make the silliest little whimpering noises.”

“Did you forgive him?” Lenora asked, her attention diverted by the description of a silly lapdog.

“Of course I did,” Iris said. “He was the sweetest thing. He liked to ride in my muff and sleep with me on my pillow. I had him for nearly ten years.”

“Whatever became of him?” Lenora asked.

“He took a cough one winter and just did not get better. I was very sad about it for the longest time,” Iris said.

“I can understand how you would be,” Lenora said. “Perhaps one day you will have another.”

“Perhaps,” Iris said. “For now, I travel around with father too much to have a pet.”

They walked along in silence for a while. Dew sparkled on the grass, which was just showing the slightest green. Flower beds were putting up first leaves, hinting of blossoms that might develop later.

“About Charlie Hooper . . .” Iris began.

“You don’t need to explain anything at all to me,” Lenora interrupted. “Goodness knows, I’ve done enough foolish things in my life. Dorian and I were always getting into scrapes.”

“Not quite like this one,” Iris said. “You see, I fancied myself in love with him. Charlie promised he would take me to London and that we should become engaged.”

“Oh?” Lenora’s “oh” didn’t quite carry the weight that Lady Temple could pack into the syllable, but it was fairly expressive.

Iris blushed. “I know. It doesn’t seem quite logical. Especially the part about going to London and then becoming engaged. Then I noticed that he always seemed to be absorbed in taking notes or having these “aha” moments.”

“Hmmm,” Lenora said.

“Lenora, he stole a kiss from me, then stopped to take notes! That’s when I realized that his plays are always going to be more important to him than I will be. I’m not at all sure that’s the kind of life I want to lead.”

“Good thing that you figured it out before going to London with him.”

“Yes. Well, I said as much. So he flung up his hands dramatically and swore he might as well go back to London right away.”

“Is that why you’ve changed your mind about whether I should focus on Dorian?”

“It is. Oh, Lenora,” Iris said beseechingly, “people don’t always know what it is they want until it is too late to do anything about it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Lenora said. “In all events, I do not intend to lose Dorian’s friendship if I can help it.”

“That’s good,” Iris approved. “I suspect I should be getting back. Papa had an appointment this morning, but he should be returning soon.”

“Will I see you later?” Lenora asked.

“Perhaps. It depends on what Papa has planned. Just keep in mind what we talked about.”

“I will,” Lenora promised.

She felt a little forlorn as her friend walked away. It occurred to her that even though she was friendly and outgoing towards most people, there were only a very few people she could count as true friends. In fact, those people might number only two: Dorian and Iris.

Lenora decided not to go back inside her house. Instead, she set out for Clare Court. The sun had come out, and the day was warming up a little, so she loosened her shawl and let it fall around her shoulders instead of enveloping her head. Consequently, she was more than a little windblown by the time she arrived at her destination. Since she had skipped breakfast, she was thirsty and hungry.

She stepped up to the front door and banged on it with the large brass knocker.

It opened almost at once, but instead of the butler or Dorian, Emma looked out at her.

“Lenora!” she exclaimed. “Did you walk all the way here from Aldham?”

“I did,” Lenora replied.

“You must be exhausted. Do come in. I’ll ring for some tea. Would you like a biscuit or two with it?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Lenora said. “It was a bit of a walk.”

Emma rang for tea, and they sat down at one end of the big dining room table. “This is a nice surprise. I was feeling a bit lonely. Dorian took Charles into Bristol for a concerto, after which he will be spending the day at the hospital. I’m afraid I’m the only one at home for the moment.”

“We’ll have a nice visit, then,” Lenora said, putting as good a face on her disappointment as she could manage. “I promised to be your friend, and that is what friends do.”

They finished up their tea. As the maid took away the dishes, Lenora said, “That reminds me of how Dorian and I used to hide beneath the table and filch sugar buns when the grownups were having meetings.”

“Dorian?” Emma raised her eyebrows. “I can scarcely imagine him hiding under the table, let alone filching sugar biscuits.”

“Believe it,” Lenora said. “Of course, we were both much smaller then and very quick.”

Emma tittered nervously. “Somewhat like little mice.”

“Just like that,” Lenora said.

They walked down a long hall where paintings of Dorian’s ancestors hung. “I remember this,” Lenora said. “When it was freshly waxed, we would take off our shoes and slide down the hall. It was amazing fun and almost as good as playing out of doors.”

“You slid on the waxed floors?” Emma gasped. “No, I cannot believe Dorian would ever do such a thing. Of you, yes, I can certainly see it happening.”

“Dorian is an excellent gentleman,” Lenora said. “But he was once a boy and did a great many boyish things, including dipping the ends of my curls in honey to see if the bees would nest in them.”

“Did they?” Emma asked, her eyes huge and round at the idea.

“Fortunately, no. My mother caught him at it, marched me home, and washed my hair. Now, that was quite an ordeal because my mother had made the soap. She is not the best at it, and it was terribly strong. My scalp hurt for a week!”

There was a long sweeping staircase that led to the hall below, where the music room was located. Lenora leaned one hip on the railing, picked up her feet, and sailed gracefully down to the bottom, where she grabbed onto the newel post and leapt lightly off it. “What fun!” she exclaimed. “How that does bring back memories!”

“You cannot mean to say that you and Dorian slid down the bannisters!”

“Every chance we got,” Lenora said. “Dorian is great fun when he is away from his elders. It is only when . . .” She caught herself up, for she had been about to say that it was only when Dorian was around Jonathan that he was dull and stodgy. She realized that criticizing Emma’s father was probably not diplomatic or kind.

“Only when he was around the grown-ups?” Emma guessed.

“Mostly that,” Lenora said. “Dorian always had better sense about when to behave than I did. He usually managed to get us both into and out of trouble before it was noticed.”

“No doubt a useful skill,” Emma said, following Lenora, who had boldly entered the music room.

Emma looked around at the room that was usually Dorian’s private space. As she did, her eye fell on the score resting on the music rack. She drew in a breath, her face going white. “Look at this!”

The title had been scratched out and re-written several times, but the latest name at the top of the score read, “Lenora.”

“What are you doing?” Dorian entered the music room, with Charles Hooper trailing along behind.