Chapter Four
Laura sat across the table from her aunt in her Camden townhouse. The room was a riot of flowers, birds and peacock feathers on curtains, sofa cushions, rugs and the wallpaper. The furniture, carved with flowers and feathers, was stained to a black ebony finish and gilded, and the blue and white porcelain stacked on the shelves displayed a similar theme. Vases of lilies perfumed the air, and pots of orchids lined the windowsill.
In the midst of this exotic splendor, Laura’s sweet-faced Aunt Dora appeared like a plain brown bird in her shapeless linen dress.
Laura swiveled the large solitaire diamond ring on her finger, causing a brilliant flash of color. “Mother doesn’t want me to contribute anything to this wedding. I had to fight her tooth and nail to wear a tailor-made suit to Cornwall. Perfectly suitable for train travel, but she is firmly of the belief that men hate to see women in suits. She finally agreed when I chose pink brocade from the House of Redfern.”
“Catherine is in her element. You can’t deny her this moment, Laura.” Although Aunt Dora refrained from mentioning that there would be no more weddings after Laura’s, it hovered in the air.
Laura took a bite of crumpet while her aunt poured her another cup of tea. She loved to come to this cluttered little house. Her visits to her aunt, a well-respected poet, often proved to be a delightful surprise, especially when her rooms were crammed with artists and writers. Oscar Wilde had once attended one of Aunt Dora’s soirées.
Her aunt’s sleek black cat leapt onto her lap and stared unblinking at Laura with marble-like green eyes. “Not now, Satan.” Dora lowered the cat to the floor. The animal stalked away with a malevolent glance in Laura’s direction.
“He is a widower, you say. What was his wife like? Does he speak of her?”
“No, just that she died in a fall. I got the impression that he didn’t wish to talk about it, and so I didn’t pry.”
“Well, you have a right to know what you’re getting yourself into. It would be nice to learn if he had a happy marriage, don’t you think? I believe if a man is a good husband for one woman, he will be again for another.”
Laura bit her lip. “Yes, I suppose so.” She’d been uneasy about asking him. Did Dora sense something? “I have no doubt that Nathaniel will make an excellent husband,” she said in a firm tone.
Dora cleared a space on the table and tucked back the sleeves of her gown. She bowed her gray-streaked, brown head over the well-worn pack of Tarot cards and removed the significator, the Page of Wands. This card always represented Laura. Cutting the deck, Dora divided it into three, then into one again. She pushed the cards across to Laura. “Shuffle and cut three times.”
She loved her aunt especially for her strong, unshakeable convictions. Aunt Dora was her mother’s unmarried stepsister and considered the disreputable member of the family, although there were male ancestors who would surely be more worthy of the title. Adding to her sins, Dora dressed in a fashion Laura’s mother disparagingly called bohemian. Aunt Dora remained unruffled by criticism, saying merely that she would rather be known as bohemian than bourgeois. An arrow, which found its mark and enraged her mother, as Laura’s maternal grandfather had also made his money in trade.
Determined not to allow her mother’s influence to extend as far as Cornwall, Laura looked for a good outcome from the reading as she shuffled the cards and handed them back. Dora then laid out ten cards in their familiar, cross-like pattern.
“My goodness,” Laura exclaimed, as The Tower and the Death cards emerged. Although she didn’t understand much about Tarot, she knew they were not the cards one wished for.
“Change,” Dora muttered, groping for her spectacles. “It’s everywhere. Understandable.”
“Good change?”
“Good and bad.”
Laura shivered. She pointed to another card. “The Lovers. That’s a good sign, surely?”
“Reversed.” Dora tapped it. “Placed as it is, it reads as a happy ending to a period of difficulty. And it crosses the King of Pentacles, a dark-haired man of means, which could mean that only through you can this man complete himself.”
“Oh!” Laura didn’t know what to make of it. She focused on the happy ending bit.
Dora reached for the deck. “That will do.”
“Wait!” Laura pointed at another. “What about the King of Cups?”
“A fair-haired man, one you must watch out for.”
“Why?”
Her aunt frowned. “I don’t know, but in an unexpected way he will bring an end to a difficult time.”
“I don’t like the sound of that. What about the Knight of Cups, here?”
“The emotional seeker. He represents your quest—your search for something that’s difficult to obtain.”
Aunt Dora began gathering up the cards.
“That wasn’t much of a reading,” Laura protested, faintly alarmed. “You usually say so much more. I suspect there’s a lot you aren’t telling me.”
Dora looked her most mysterious, destroying the arrangement of cards. “Some things are better not to know.”
“You are naughty, Aunt Dora. Can’t you tell me more?”
Her aunt shook her head. “What month was Lanyon born?”
“November.”
“Scorpio. The most murdered sign of the zodiac. And the most likely to commit murder.”
Laura laughed. “He has managed to survive until thirty-two without being murdered or thrown in prison.”
“You can laugh, Laura. But you’re Cancer. You’ll have trouble understanding a Scorpio man. They can be remote. It will be difficult for you to ever know him completely, even though you will fight hard to understand him.”
“I like a challenge.”
Nathaniel hadn’t kissed her again, although to be fair, the opportunity hadn’t presented itself. Since the engagement appeared in the newspaper, and Nathaniel’s return from Cornwall, they’d been caught up in a whirlwind of parties and dinners with her parents. It had become impossible to talk privately. She would be treading on eggshells until she learned more about his life and understood how the past might affect their future.
“I haven’t been alone with him since we became engaged. We’ve been so busy with social occasions. Not to mention fittings for the gown and the trousseau.” Laura knew her aunt would have no interest whatsoever in learning her Mother had engaged Worth for the wedding gown and Lucile for lingerie and tea gowns. She rose from the table to give her aunt a fond hug. “I’m so glad you’re coming to the wedding. Heaven knows when I’ll see you again. We are traveling down to Wolfram Abbey the day after the ceremony.”
“Do you know the abbey’s history?”
“The prior was John of Wolfram during the 12th century, Nathaniel tells me. Of the Cistercian Order. The abbey was dissolved in the 16th century after the prior was executed on a charge of treason.”
Her aunt’s gaze settled on her, her brown eyes just as shrewd as her mother’s. “No honeymoon?”
“Nathaniel can’t spare the time. We plan to have our honeymoon later.”
Aunt Dora replaced the Tarot on the shelf. “If you ever need me, you know where to find me, dear.”
***
Laura stood as the dressmaker pinned the hem of a new ensemble. Made for her trousseau, the promenade costume was of flowered silk and lace appliqué. After it fit to her mother’s satisfaction, they drove home in the carriage.
Lady Parr turned to Laura as the carriage left the crowded London streets. “I haven’t explained what you might expect from the marriage bed.”
Laura grimaced. “Oh, Mother, you needn’t.”
Her mother’s glance was sharp. “You and Lanyon haven’t…”
Laura didn’t know when they might have found the opportunity. She turned her ring on her finger. “He’s been most respectful.”
Her mother nodded. “I was sure a man of Lanyon’s ilk would never overstep the line. But if he’d gone back to Cornwall without a commitment we might have lost him.”
Laura flushed. Did her mother see her like a business arrangement, as her marriage to Father appeared to be? Did she feel any real affection for her remaining daughter?
“Men expect their wives to be accommodating in the bedroom,” Mother continued. “You must endure, Laura, no matter how little you wish it. It is Lanyon’s right as your husband. It would be most unwise to refuse him.”
Refuse him? Laura had no intention of it. “Didn’t you ever enjoy that with Father?”
Lady Parr cleared her throat. “In the first few years, it wasn’t entirely disagreeable. I hope you will find it pleasurable. It is an act for the procreation of children. Once that is done…” She glanced away. “I have a booklet you might like to read.”
“It’s really not necessary, Mother. You don’t need to prepare me. Lovemaking was often spoken of in some detail at Cambridge.”
“Of that I have no doubt,” Lady Parr said dryly. “I’m surprised you came home untouched.”
“Your maid was with me, Mother. No doubt Agnes gave you a running commentary on everything I did while I was there.”
“She said you spent a good deal of time with a lecturer, a Mr. Farmer.”
“He is a friend. A group of us gathered together over luncheon to discuss the lectures.” Laura had written to her university friends and advised them of her marriage. They had all sent her their best wishes. She had not heard from Howard Farmer, however, and wondered why. She’d been aware that he found her attractive and felt rather awkward about it.
Her mother snorted. “A poor professor who would always work in some university town would not have suited you, Laura. You would have become bored very quickly.”
Laura was relieved when the carriage turned into their street and the conversation ended. To distract her mother, she talked about the flowers chosen for the church. She wanted to retire to her room and think about Nathaniel.