Page 35 of On a Midsummer Night
After a slight pause, Henry bowed. “It would be my pleasure.”
Beth watched as Henry approached Lucy with a friendly greeting, noting how her cousin paled. However, she took his arm without hesitation and disappeared with him into the dining room.
“We’ll make a match of them yet,” Aunt Meredith proclaimed with a clap of her hands. Without another word, she followed her daughter and Henry from the room.
“Lud, she is determined,” Oliver groaned under his breath, looping Beth’s arm around his own once again. “I’m anticipating her reaction to the news you’ll be marrying Henry instead.”
Clutching his hand, Beth whispered, “I’m worried that she will be terribly upset and will ask me to leave. If she does, will you help me find somewhere to stay until the wedding?”
Oliver’s mien darkened. “You needn’t worry. If our aunt shames herself in such a manner, Henry and I will ensure you are well.”
She had not truly doubted him, but hearing her brother say the words was a comfort.
Beth was seated at the dining table next to Oliver, with Uncle Charles’s at the head of the table, Henry on his left. Lucy was situated next to him in turn, across the table from Beth. Aunt Meredith sat on the opposite end of the table, a large smile on her face as she took in the guests arranged before her. It was an intimate dinner, and while Beth usually enjoyed such gatherings, tonight’s event was proving stressful. How was she supposed to act in her fiancé’s presence when others expected him to propose to her cousin?
So Beth held her silence throughout the meal, simply nodding along to the conversation in between bites of roast capon and sips of wine. She exchanged furtive looks with Henry, who appeared at ease if his relaxed manner and the casual banter he traded with Uncle Charles and Oliver were any indications. Lucy’s expression swayed between pained and cautiously calm, usually depending upon the questions Aunt Meredith directed at Henry, which included “Have you ever considered what parish you would like to be married in?” or “Where would you take a wedding trip to?” While Beth shifted uncomfortably in her seat with every nonsensical question Aunt Meredith leveled at him, Henry’s composure was implacable. He nodded at her aunt’s comments, no matter how ridiculous they were, and kept his answers short. Henry never allowed Aunt Meredith to trap him into answering a certain way, even when she tried to convince Uncle Charles to join in her interrogation.
At one point, she caught Lucy giving Henry a shy but thankful smile, and Beth knew he had officially won her friendship. The tension in her shoulders relaxed a bit at the sight.
“Meredith dear, you must provide Mr. Ramsgate with a reprieve. I’m sure he’s well aware of how keen you are to have him as a son-in-law.” Uncle Charles gestured with his glass of wine to her and Oliver. “But I’m sure our nephew and niece would prefer if the conversation turned to topics they could actually comment upon.”
Beth dared not meet Oliver’s eyes, for she knew that whatever expression he wore would send her into a laughing fit.
Aunt Meredith frowned as she turned to them, her gaze intent as it came to rest on her.
“Beth, your time will come. I promised your parents that I would help you secure a proposal, and I intend to.”
The whole table went silent. It was a bold statement to proclaim, especially in Henry’s presence, but perhaps her aunt already considered him family.
“And you’ve been quite gracious too,” Aunt Meredith continued, unconcerned with the discomfort she had caused. “What with being in Lucy’s shadow, watching her be courted by handsome, eligible men, and eventually snaring the attention of Mr. Ramsgate. It would be difficult for any young woman, but you’ve born it with admirable grace.”
Beth employed every ounce of restraint she possessed not to respond, not to roll her eyes or bite out a sarcastic remark.Remember, Beth, love,her father had said in his last letter,that you are everything your Aunt Meredith wishes Lucy was: intelligent, witty, beautiful, and self-assured. Don’t let her petty words chip at your confidence.
She looked across the table to discover Henry staring at her, a muscle ticking in his jaw. Her gaze darted to his hands, spying them curled into fists on the tabletop. He was going to say something, and she discreetly shook her head to dissuade him. In response, he narrowed his eyes. He’d viewed Aunt Meredith’s response as an affront, and Beth straightened her spine in preparation for whatever was to come.
“Mother, that’s not a very kind assessment of Cousin Beth.”
With her mouth threatening to fall open, Beth cut a glance at Lucy, who appeared as surprised as Beth to have spoken the thought aloud.
Aunt Meredith’s eyes went wide as she turned to her daughter before picking up her wine glass and drinking a lazy sip, the color high in her cheeks. “I don’t know how it was unkind. I was simply telling the truth.”
Lucy tucked her hands into her lap—no doubt to hide how they trembled—but to her credit, she did not cower under her mother’s sharp-eyed gaze. Rather, she lifted her chin and said, “But you’re not telling the truth.”
Everyone at the table inhaled at the same moment. Although Lucy had not raised her voice, the sense of tension in the room heightened. Beth risked a glance at Oliver, who was considering their cousin with a pleased smirk on his lips.
“Lucy,” Aunt Meredith began, the name rough with warning.
“Cousin Beth has earned scores of admirers—many more than me—because she’s diverting and vivacious and causes you to feel as though you’re a part of the fun instead of a spectator looking in. And she doesn’t insult others to make herself look better.” Lucy pursed her lips as her watery gaze met Beth’s. “She has been a dear friend to me, and it is unkind, Mother, to treat her as a servant when her fortune is no doubt thrice that of mine.”
A cold sweat streaked down Beth’s spine as her mind registered how her aunt and uncle turned surprised gazes on her. Lucy had clamped a hand to her mouth, but not before mouthing, “I’m sorry.” But the secret was out—or one of them, at least.
“Lucy, you don’t know what you’re talking about, dearest,” Aunt Meredith said into the silence, flicking her fingers dismissively.
“Actually, she does, Aunt Meredith,” Oliver interjected. “If your shabby treatment of my sister is indeed true, I would be very disappointed, for Beth deserves far better than that from her own family.”
Her brother spoke with his characteristic easiness, but there was a note of steel in his tone. Their aunt, however, was shaking her head before he had finished speaking.
“I have treated Beth as a treasured guest. She is my niece, after all.” Aunt Meredith flashed her a smile that did not reach her eyes. “Rather, I do not think Lucy needs to embellish details to elevate her cousin, for such untruths will be revealed eventually.”
