Chapter 29

Chapter 29

As he promised, Dorian’s card arrived with breakfast. When Lenora hastened down the stairs with her mother, he was waiting for them. “What would you like to do today?” he asked.

Lenora looked at her mother, who gave a little shrug. “Anything interesting. We were mostly mewed up in our rooms because of the weather when we were here last year.”

They began with the market, where they purchased fresh fruits and vegetables. They wandered among the stalls for a while, looking at fabrics, costume jewellery, and trinkets of all sorts. When they grew tired and thirsty, they purchased a roasted chicken, a loaf of bread, and wine. They settled themselves at a table beneath a colourful awning.

“If I had known it could be like this, I would never have left,” Lenora exclaimed impulsively.

“But just think what you would have missed,” Dorian teased.

Lady Temple observed, “I, for one, would have been glad to miss most of the last six months.”

“So should I, truth be told,” Dorian said. “But without it, I would still believe myself betrothed to Emma.”

“Did you know you were betrothed when we were growing up?” Lenora asked.

“I did, but it was something so remote from the reality of riding ponies, falling into the mill run, and doing my best to keep you out of trouble.”

“Me out of trouble!” Lenora exclaimed. “What about you?”

“Oh, well,” Dorian said, “I contributed my share. But I never had your creative flare for getting into things.”

Lady Temple placed her hands over her ears. “I am not hearing this,” she said. “If I did, I should have to go back and retroactively punish you both.”

They all laughed, then continued to talk over old times while they reduced the chicken to bones, accompanied by an impromptu salad made from fresh vegetables, then followed it up with fruit for desert. When the wine bottle was empty, and even the bread was reduced to crumbs, they were ready for new adventures.

They spent the afternoon wandering shops and famous buildings. At the end of the day, they flagged down a donkey cart and rode back to the hotel.

This set the pattern for their days for several weeks. One afternoon, Lady Temple declared that her old bones were too tired for tramping about. “Don’t wander far,” she told them. “Stay within calling distance.”

Lenora giggled, and Dorian grinned. It was so like what she used to tell them when they were adventurous youngsters. Back then, the orchard at the back of the manor was their wilderness. Here, there was a partially crumbled temple backed by a grove of fruit trees.

They sat together under the drifting blossoms. From where they were, they could see Lady Temple where she sat in the shade, gently fanning herself.

“Lenora,” Dorian said, “I, uh . . .”

Lenora felt her heart beat a little faster. “Yes, Dorian?”

The tips of Dorian’s ears turned red. He stammered as if he had never in his life flirted with wealthy patrons who contributed to the hospital.

Lenora suppressed a smile at his embarrassment while at the same time feeling more than a little uncertain.

Dorian reached out and took her hand in his. For a few minutes, he held it, then turned it over and looked at the lines of her palm, then turned it palm down. “I was just wondering–”

Lenora felt that her heart must be pounding as loudly as a drumbeat. She could scarcely stand the suspense of waiting. “What were you wondering?” she asked encouragingly.

Dorian gripped her hand as if it were a lifeline. “Would you do me the honour to become my wife?”

For a moment, she tinkered with the idea of teasing him. The old Lenora, before everything happened, would have done just that. But, she decided, she was growing out of such childish things. Besides, she did not want to take the chance that he might change his mind. She felt her cheeks grow warm as she said, “Yes, Dorian. I would be glad to marry you.”

Glancing over her shoulder at her mother, Lenora saw that she seemed to be engaged in reading a book. She leaned in towards Dorian just as he leaned towards her. They met so precipitously that their noses bumped.

Lenora giggled, trying to hide her embarrassment. From the way his cheeks flamed, Dorian was feeling the awkwardness of the moment as well. But he did not draw back.

Instead his surprisingly strong arm went around her shoulders, and he gently drew her in for a soft kiss on the lips. “A promissory note,” he said, drawing back, “on a future time when we need not worry about chaperones or propriety.”

***

Not many weeks after that, Lenora and her mother met Dorian at a quiet little chapel in a French village. They said their vows with a carter and his wife as witnesses.

When they had repeated all the words, they kissed passionately. “I can’t wait until we are in our new home,” Dorian murmured in her ear.

“Nor can I,” Lenora murmured back. But somehow, they restrained themselves well enough to be polite and not to make unseemly haste to the little cottage they had rented on the edge of the village.

After the wedding breakfast was eaten, they waved goodbye to Lady Temple, who climbed back into the cart and set off for the hotel where they had been residing. “Do you think she will be all right?” Dorian asked.

“I’m certain of it,” Lenora said. “She met with some friends a day or two ago and has declared herself quite comfortable staying in our rooms.”

“Good,” Dorian said. “I would not like to think we left her lonely.”

“Mother?” Lenora laughed. “Never. I declare she would make friends with savages on a desert island.”

“She does seem to find them everywhere,” Dorian agreed. “It seems to be one area where she and Sir Francis seem to coincide.”

Lenora sighed. “Mother warned me that Reuben was ‘too perfect.’ I think Father must have seemed like a perfect fit to her. It is amazing that she managed to keep his affairs mostly secret, even from her children.”

“I will endeavour to remain always faithful to you, my dearest friend,” Dorian said, putting his arm around her and guiding her gently through the door into their little cottage.

“I should hope so,” Lenora began.

But her words were smothered by a tender kiss as Dorian guided her towards a truly lovely bed.

***

Several hours later, Lenora sipped a glass of sweet grape juice while they waited for their meal. Since their cottage was not stocked with food, nor could either of them cook, they had been forced to sally forth from it in search of provisions.

The waiter brought a loaf of fresh bread, a roasted chicken, and a small dish of stewed vegetables. The aroma from the meal made Lenora’s mouth water.

“I had no idea making love could be so strenuous,” she commented. “I am absolutely ravenous.”

“In more ways than one,” Dorian teased.

“Now I know why Mother always kept such a close watch on us. Once begun, there is no stopping, is there?”

Dorian popped a juicy bit of chicken into her mouth, following it up with a gentle kiss. “Not a bit,” he said, drawing back to get a bite of the roast for himself. His stomach growled. “Well, not until an empty belly makes itself known,” he observed ruefully.

Lenora laughed, spread butter on the bread, and bit into it. Her dancing gaze caught Dorian’s, letting him know that they were of one accord.

After their meal, they purchased a breakfast for themselves, then retired to the cottage once more.

The following day, they called on Lady Temple. They found her just about to depart on a walking tour with her new friends.

Satisfied that she was not lonely, the newlyweds sought out their own adventures. They investigated ruins, purchased food and folderols at small shops, and said all the foolish nothings that youngsters in the first weeks of love say to each other.

They often could be found holding hands while wandering through old ruins, taking rubbings, and sampling local cuisine.

After several weeks of this, they both found they needed more occupation. Dorian located a chapel with a venerable pipe-organ and exchanged maintenance of the massive instrument for unlimited use of it during the hours between services. Sometimes, Lenora went with him and spent her time listening and making sweet sketches of her husband in her journal.

Sometimes, she visited the vicar’s wife and helped make tiny garments for the poor children of the district. Her friends back home would scarcely have recognized their harum-scarum acquaintance as she sat with the village matrons and maidens. After a while, she brought some finer fabric from the local market, and some of those tiny garments found their way back to the cottage to be packed in with Lenora’s personal gear.

When Dorian found his wife attempting to make a tiny sock, he took it gently from her hands. “What is this?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I do not think I could get my big toe into it.”

“It’s not for you, silly,” Lenora said. “I’m learning to knit. The vicar’s wife says the best way in the world a mother can show love to her future baby is to make all its clothes with her own hands.”

“Baby?” Dorian asked. “We are having a baby?”

“I believe so,” Lenora replied. “In about six months or so.”

Dorian grabbed her, hugged her until she squeaked, then kissed her until they were both breathless.

He then looked carefully at the scrap of knitting. Then he commented, “Perhaps we could look at the market for a few of the future heir’s clothing items.”

“Perhaps we could,” Lenora said agreeably. “I find I’m not that great at knitting or crocheting.”

“You’ll get better with practice,” Dorian comforted her. “I’ve seen some of the things you’ve sewn. You stitch beautifully.”

So their rambles took on a new dimension. Their shopping included a woven bassinet. They moved into a slightly larger cottage and hired a matronly lady-of-all-work. This led to dining at home more often and occasionally inviting Lady Temple to tea or even to dinner.

Dorian expanded his musical instrument maintenance and took on a few music students. Even though he no longer worked as a surgeon, as his father’s heir, he still received a quarterly allowance from the estate.

Lenora continued with her charity work. She also started teaching English to the baby class at a local school.

In all ways, it seemed an ideal existence. They worked, they played, they quarrelled and made up. Eighteen months flew by so swiftly that they scarcely noticed the passage of time. As Lady Temple had predicted, they were admirably suited to one another.

Their baby came along at the end of the six months that Lenora had predicted. She took the infant with her nearly everywhere.

Parenthood agreed with them both. Their lady-of-all-work just happened to have a niece whose child was born the week prior to their little one. She was the perfect wet nurse, and her baby seemed destined to be a future playmate.

It was an idyllic time for all. But like all such times, it eventually came to an end.