Cry of the Peacock (30 page)

Abbie’s gaze shifted from Lady Crawford to pass over those who sat about the table. David had not eaten, but was sipping idly at his glass. James was pouring himself a second and offering to Mariana, who refused. Ruskin appeared to have forgotten his meal entirely and was simply staring at Abbie with a strange combination of anxious frustration and indignation. She turned from him. Her dress was a trifling matter, and she had no doubt he thought so, too. He was clearly put out with her, however. Was it for the scene they had only just avoided? Was it for going against his mother’s wishes? Or was it more than that? She had not been overly anxious to attend him since his arrival. She had no doubt he had observed her reluctance.

Sir Nicholas and Lord Barnwell returned, still speaking among themselves, and it was not until they were seated that they realized that something was amiss.

“What is this?” Sir Nicholas asked, looking from one dour face to another.

“After all the trouble we’ve gone to,” Lady Crawford said and waved a hand in Abbie’s direction. “Look at her! After all the care we’ve taken to see she is at her best, and to come all this way to see…”

“To see a train,” Abbie reminded them.

“Which is precisely why the Prince of Wales is here,” Sir Nicholas added. “You did not think he came especially to see us, my dear?”

“No, of course not. But it was an opportunity for Arabella to be seen by him, and if he should pay her any especial attention, well, her success would be guaranteed.”

“If you counted on so much, my dear lady, then it’s no wonder you are disappointed. I’m not sure it’s fair to lay the blame of the Prince’s preoccupation at Miss Gray’s door. As for the train,” he said addressing Abbie now, “there’ll be time to see it afterward.”

“But the crowds,” Lady Crawford said in objection.

“You do know it’s open to all,” added Lady Barnwell. “And underground, too. Must we, really?”

“For heaven’s sake,” David said and arose.

“Where are you going?” his mother asked of him.

“It’s close in here. I want some air.”

“You will miss the speeches.”

“I really do not care. Excuse me.”

Sir Nicholas cleared his throat and gave Ruskin a knowing glance. Abbie expected him to be angry with David’s unwillingness to comply. Wasn’t he here to mix and mingle as well? Sir Nicholas, however, did not seem to mind at all that David would much rather not remain. “Perhaps if you were to take the ladies with you,” he said to his son, and with a knowing look that Abbie could not begin to interpret. “You might go now, before the crowds converge at the station once more…”

David stopped, looked to Abbie, and then to Katherine. Then to his father, as if he were uncertain, after all, of his desire for air. At least he seemed uncertain of his desire for company.

“But, Nicholas,” Lady Crawford objected. “Think of the opportunities he will miss, that they must all miss, if they quit the luncheon now.”

“It isn’t certain they’ll miss anything at all, my dear lady,” he said to his wife. “If Miss Gray wishes to acquaint herself with this rail project,” he added with another pointed look in David’s direction, “then perhaps there is no better time to do it. While the Prince is here, so will the crowds be. There could not be a better time to take a closer look.”

“Oh…very well,” Lady Crawford said at last, defeated and apparently feeling it.

Ruskin stood. “I suppose I might as well go with them.”

“I want you here, Ruskin,” his father said.

Ruskin sat again, picked his napkin up, and shook it out as if it had caused him some offense.

“Miss Gray,” David said, addressing her very respectfully. He turned then to her sister, “Miss Mariana. If you would care to accompany me, it would be my pleasure to escort you. Katherine?” he said, holding his hand out to her. She declined with a slight shake of her head.

Abbie and Mariana arose to leave, and so, necessarily, did the gentlemen rise with them.

“You too, James?” Lady Crawford asked of her youngest son as he moved to follow them.

Abbie did not stop to wait for the answer, and neither was it given by James, but by his father.

“Let him go.”

Once more outside, Abbie took a steadying breath and let it out slowly. She buttoned her cloak up tightly and took her sister’s arm while they waited for David to lead the way, but he was looking over her shoulder in the direction of the tent door. Abbie turned to see the curtain part again.

“Wait. I’m coming,” Katherine said as she joined them.

David took her hand and gave her a warm smile. Surely it meant a great deal to him to be able to share this with her.

Abbie followed behind David and Katherine, who did not talk, and beside James and Mariana who did, and quite eagerly, though about what she could not quite make out. Soon enough they were back amidst the throng of the festivities, and in a moment or two more, they were entering the domed station. There were not so many people within as she had imagined there might be. The arrival of the Prince of Wales, and his lunching not a quarter of a mile off, had proved a very great distraction. She was grateful that it was so, but felt it a bit of a shame that it was not the achievement of the underground railway that had proved the source of so much public excitement.

The tunnel, once they arrived there via a hydraulic lift, was not quite the dark and foreboding place Abbie had expected. It was brightly lit by both gas and electricity, and the walls, the vaulted ceiling, too, were tiled in white, which shone and reflected and made the tunnel seem almost comfortable.

The train sat on one side of the platform, and an attendant, by way of opening the gate, encouraged them to board. David handed Katherine up, then turned to offer the same assistance to Abbie, who hesitated a moment before giving David her hand. His attentiveness seemed to her a trifle forced. He did not smile, would hardly meet her gaze. But he was certainly paying her every respect. Perhaps that was the best she could hope for under the circumstances. She only wished she knew what those circumstances were.

Once inside, they examined the car—a single compartment—in close detail; the walls and doors of gleaming wood, the vaulted, whitewashed ceiling, the high backed and comfortable benches—one on each side of the long car—and the narrow row of windows above the seats’ backs. The train sat stationary today, allowing for a view of the platform without. Travelling through the tunnels, however, would be quite dark. Still, the windows offered a sort of optimism that Abbie found comforting.

In the reflection she caught David’s gaze, which altered its direction the moment her eyes met his. He looked to Katherine, who was apparently not so impressed by the spectacle as perhaps he had hoped.

“I can’t imagine who would want to ride on such a narrow, cramped thing,” she said. “Scores of people all in one car, trapped together underground, and with no way of knowing just who you might be sitting next to. It could be a Jack the Ripper for all anyone would know.” And she rubbed her fingers together as if she’d already acquired so much unwanted human filth. She turned and exited the car.

“I too find it rather cramped and close,” Mariana said, breaking the awkward silence that had followed Katherine’s departure. “Do you mind, Abbie, if I wait for you on the platform?”

“Not at all,” she said, and watched as James accompanied her sister and Katherine off the train.

Perhaps Abbie ought to follow, but she did wish for a moment more. To see the train, yes, but also to speak with David if she could.

“It is not steam, I think,” she asked. “Not down so far beneath the surface.” It was a question that might have been answered by Ruskin’s reading of the paper, if she had been listening.

“No,” he answered. “It was meant to be run by cable, but they at last decided on electricity. It’s the first major railway to use it.”

“I venture it won’t be the last.”

“No,” he said and smiled, apparently encouraged. “There are others being built as we speak. In America, and on the Continent.”

“It’s a shame we can’t actually travel the line today. Do they not begin running right away?”

“It won’t open to the public for another month.”

“A month? Won’t we have returned to Holdaway by then?”

“I believe so.”

“How very disappointing.”

There was silence, and then it was broken as they both spoke at once.

“Look, I’m sorry about—” David began, but stopped upon realizing Abbie had spoken as well.

“I apologize for the—”

They were both silent again. It was David who spoke first. “My mother likes to make a great matter out of small things. I hope you will not let her upset you.”

“It is difficult to avoid, it seems. But you did advise me against doing that which I did not wish to do.”

“I did, and I meant it. We’re all a little highly strung just now. It isn’t your fault.”

“Are you certain of that?”

He looked at her a moment, and looked away to examine the carriage once more. But the car was not large, and all there was to see had been seen already.

“Katherine is unhappy. That at least is my fault.”

“Perhaps,” he answered.

“Has she told you what it is over, our…disagreement?”

“No,” David answered with a fleeting glance in her direction.

“She will, of course. She must.”

“I’ve forbidden her from speaking of it—to me, or to anyone.”

“Have you?” Abbie asked him, surprised. “But why?” If the source of that disagreement were to prove itself an obstacle to himself and Katherine, was it not his right to know? He did not answer her however. “If I should cause embarrassment or dishonor…”

“The dishonor’s been done already.”

“Because I’m here?”

“Stop that, will you?” looking at her directly for the first time. “There is no shame in our having adopted you as our special cause. If that is what we choose to do, whose business is it but our own? If you really believe you are not fit to be among us, you will, whether you intend to do it or not, convince others to believe it, too. I do not know what this great controversy is between you and Katherine. Of course I would like to know, but if you would rather not tell me, I will respect your wish for privacy. If you fear dishonor, truly, I have to tell you, I think it’s just as likely to come as a consequence of encouraging you to feel obligated to us for that which you had no choice but to accept.”

“You speak as if you know something I do not and possibly should. Do you?”

He only looked at her. There was something of sympathy and guilt in his eyes. There was something else more determined and distant. How she wished she understood him.

“Well, do you?” she asked again.

“You tell me.
Is
there some horrid secret that will put all my family’s plans for you at risk?”

For an instant she was tempted to reveal it all. It had to be known someday, after all. Why not now? Why not warn him what was ahead? Would he help her to weather it? Or would he condemn her as he had a right to do?

“Look,” David said, coming to stand near enough that she could feel the heat of him. “I cannot say I do not care what comes of all of this. I simply care for different reasons now than I once did. Make your choice. Decide what you would do. Take no one’s happiness into account but your own.”

“You would encourage me to be selfish?”

“I have a feeling it’s not something you are used to doing. Of the average person I would hesitate to suggest any such thing. Of you, I think it’s precisely what you need most to hear.”

“And if you come to regret your counsel? If the consequences prove too great to bear?”

“Then it is the risk we took in having you.”

“It is hardly a risk
you
chose to take.”

“I am choosing it now.”

She looked at him, uncertain what to say, or even to believe. He appeared perfectly and soberly sincere.

“We should go,” he said.

She stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Thank you.”

He only shook his head in answer.

“This train,” she said, stopping him again, “it means a great deal to you, doesn’t it?”

He smiled briefly, even sadly. “If I am to fulfill my obligation, to my father and to my family, I am to encourage you to do the same.”

“I do already, but why should it matter if I—”

She was interrupted by the opening of the door. James stepped inside. “We have company,” he said, looking only, and very intently, at David. “It seems there are some people we just keep bumping into,” he added as if to offer some clarification.

Clearly it did, for David immediately followed after James, leading Abbie by the elbow and then handing her down to the platform once more.

“Shall we go, then?” James asked as they joined the others, and in a manner entirely different from the concerned one Abbie had a moment ago witnessed. He was perfectly jolly now, but the charade did not quite disguise his anxiety.

In the lift, David stood very near his brother. “What is he doing here?”

“I’m not quite certain,” James answered. Though he smiled, the tension was palpable. “Not yet, at any rate.”