Love Comes in Three

Chapter Six "London Bound"

            Freddie and Isabella saw us off along with Mrs. Fletcher, standing at the road and waving as we pulled away.  I think I was the one most affected by our departure, I had never really been apart from a parent or a sibling and now I was going to the bustling city of London with Patience as my chaperone.

            As Faith regaled Patience with the who's who of the current circles of fashionable Society, I took advantage of the light and brought out my book.  I was a few pages in when I heard "I get the strange sensation that you've been avoiding me, Miss Woodbridge," Percival said lowly, leaning slightly towards me.

            "I must apologize if you feel so, Mr. Stanhope," I said keeping my eyes on the opened pages, "but I have only been occupied with my reading."

            "Reading?" he asked letting his finger trace along the pages, "Has that taken all of your time?"

            "Percival," Patience's voice rang oddly, "she said she's been busy, that's all."

            "I have never met a young lady so busy with . . . reading," he said turning back to me as if daring me to prove it.

            "Reading, sketching," I offered, "I have several pursuits."  I looked up at saw Faith, she looked  little uncomfortable as her eyes trailed from me to her brother and then to Patience.

            "But there are many hours in a day," Percival began, "not all of them can be occupied by . . ."

            "For goodness sake, Percy, she said she's been busy!  Can't you just let it go?" Patience shrilled.  There was silence in the carriage for several long moments and I put all of my attention on the words staring back at me, yet I read the same sentence probably ten times before anything happened.

            Percival knocked on the ceiling of the carriage and we came to a stop.  "What are you doing?" Patience asked agitated as he got out of the carriage.

            "I'm going to ride for awhile," he responded with a heavy sigh, "I could do with some fresh air."  Moments later we were underway again.

            "I have no idea what he's talking about," Patience fidgeted with her reticule, "we're getting plenty of air in the carriage as it is."  There was silence again for not ten minutes when she returned to her questions regarding the prominent families with eligible sons.

           

            Most of our journey went on the same way, Patience and Faith were talking about frivolities while Percival rode and I kept to my book.  There were several occasions when I looked up from the pages to see him riding alongside the carriage, he'd glance my way and nod if he caught me looking.  If I felt the beginning of a smile creep onto my face, I'd repeat to myself, "He is not for me."  It was remarkable how quickly that phrase removed any traces of a grin.

            Once he caught the mix of emotions that painted my face and I saw that he was puzzled.  There was nothing I could do or say to make him understand, not that I had any idea myself.  This was just the way things were meant to be.

            It was a three day journey from our home in Somerset to the townhouse in London.  I had never been there before, but I had heard stories.  It was a strange sort of gift to finally see this unknown part of my family history.  As Patience instructed the servants, I quickly snuck into the house to see it all for myself.  I found items that clearly belonged to my parents like several pipes in the library that looked like ones we had at home.  My father had not smoked often, but he did enjoy a good pipe now and then, and usually while he was reading a very good book.  There was also a smaller pianoforte here, but the music selection was the same as what we had at home.  My mother had a gift for music, one she did not pass to me, but I remember her singing to us.  I suddenly felt nostalgic and moved on to the next floor, finding a hall full of paintings.

            There were paintings of me and my siblings as children, I had scant memories of sitting for them.  I found the portrait that our parents had commissioned of Freddie and Patience shortly after their wedding.  I looked around and found none of Arthur and Lucy, but then there wouldn't be unless they requested it themselves.  The same with Jonathon and Emily.  I thought to myself that I wanted a portrait with my husband hanging on these walls. 

            As I made my way to the end of the hall there was a large portrait of my parents . . . they were so young.  It must have been their wedding portrait.  I stood there for several minutes just looking at the youth and love on their faces and missing them terribly.