Chapter 20

      Bellamy Crawford would have called at Aunt Phoebe’s on the following Monday evening, had he not risked appearing too keen to see Poppy. So he left it till the following evening, the Tuesday, another mucky, drizzly night. He walked from Tansley House with his collar turned up to keep out the damp and cold. Esther opened the front door to him and took his wet coat while he complained about the weather and thanked her for her attention.

      ‘I saw you were at Miss Silk’s party, Esther. Did you enjoy it?’

      ‘Oh, yes, sir, thank you, sir. It was a grand night.’

      From another room towards the rear of the house he could hear the stilted endeavours of an unpractised pianist, while Esther led him into the drawing room where Aunt Phoebe was sitting, attached to her embroidery.

      ‘Good evening, Aunt.’

      ‘Bellamy! What a pleasant surprise.’ Carefully, she put down her work and stood up to welcome her nephew. ‘Fancy venturing out on a night like this.’

      ‘Please, don’t get up, Aunt … Here, I’ve brought you flowers.’

      ‘Roses. Good gracious!’

      ‘Well, I thought it might behove me to come and say thank you for the splendid evening on Saturday. I had a glorious time.’

      ‘Thank you, Bellamy. They’re beautiful. Are they for me, or for Miss Silk?’

      Bellamy grinned sheepishly. ‘For both of you, of course.’

      ‘Do sit down … I’ll lay them on the table and ring for Esther to put them in some water … Yes, it seems to have been a very successful evening. At least we achieved its objective of celebrating Poppy’s birthday.’

      ‘Isn’t she delightful?’ Bellamy said. ‘I was so pleasantly surprised. I must say I quite took to her.’ He felt himself colouring up at the admission.

      ‘Can you take to her piano playing?’ Aunt Phoebe said with a bright laugh, cocking an ear. ‘That’s her, practising her scales.’

      ‘Is she not accomplished already?’

      ‘Not in piano playing. But she’s a trier. I believe she has a feeling for the piano, but we’re all fingers and thumbs when we begin to learn.’

      He gave a polite little laugh. ‘Indeed, yes, Aunt.’

      ‘How are your dear mother and father? I trust they enjoyed the party as well?’

      ‘Oh, indeed, Aunt. As did Oliver and Clare. No doubt they will send you a note.’

      ‘No doubt.’ Aunt Phoebe wanted to say that no doubt that was all she would get. Certainly not a visit. Neither was she fooled by Bellamy’s calling tonight with roses. ‘Would you like a cup of tea or coffee, Bellamy? Or even something stronger?’

      ‘Do you have chocolate, Aunt?’

      ‘I believe so.’

      Esther entered, responding to the bell, and looked enquiringly at her mistress.

      ‘Esther, would you take these roses that Mr Crawford has kindly brought and make an arrangement of them? But first, bring us hot chocolate and Poppy. Mr Bellamy is dying for one or the other.’

      Esther smothered her amusement. ‘Yes, ma’am.’

      ‘Thank you, Aunt,’ Bellamy said when Esther had gone. ‘Of course, both will be welcome. But it would be odious of me to declare which will be the more so.’

      ‘Oh, I think I can hazard a guess. As I was saying, it was good to see you all at Poppy’s party. I see all too little of the Crawfords these days.’

      ‘I shall try and correct that oversight, Aunt, given your permission.’

      Poppy put her head round the door and smiled, wide-eyed, when she saw Bellamy.

      ‘We have a visitor, Poppy,’ Aunt Phoebe announced. ‘Or more accurately, I think, you have a visitor.’

      ‘Poppy …’ Bellamy looked her up and down admiringly, and a lump came to his throat as he stood for her. ‘No, my eyes did not deceive me on Saturday, even though my memory has been playing diabolical tricks. You are just as lovely as I thought you were.’

      ‘Thank you, Bellamy.’ She blushed becomingly.

      ‘But, for the life of me, I couldn’t remember what you looked like, you know … Have you ever experienced that, Aunt? You meet somebody. You know she is divinely lovely, but you can’t seem to remember her face. That’s how it was with my memory of you, Poppy.’

      ‘Fancy.’ Poppy was not sure how to respond to this compliment.

      ‘I’ve just asked Esther to bring us chocolate, my dear.’

      ‘Oh, thank you, Aunt Phoebe. I love chocolate.’ Poppy sat on the sofa opposite Bellamy, wearing one of the many everyday dresses she now possessed, her hands demurely in her lap, her back erect. ‘I’ve just written a note to your mother and father, Bellamy, to thank them for the lovely Bible they gave me for my birthday, which was chosen by Robert’s fiancée. If you’ll take it with you when you go, it’ll save me posting it in the morning.’

      ‘Of course, Poppy. Happy to oblige.’

      ‘I was just about to ask Bellamy, Poppy, what news from Robert?’ Aunt Phoebe turned to Bellamy. ‘I barely had an opportunity to ask your mother.’

      ‘His last letter told us he was well. He lost one of his colleagues to yellow fever, you know. I think that rather made him wonder at the logic of going to such a backward, disease-ridden country in the first place.’

      ‘Do you think he might catch it as well?’ Poppy asked, concerned. ‘This yellow fever?’

      ‘Let’s hope and pray he returns unscathed, Poppy, and sees the sense in joining the family firm. It seems idiotic not to when there is no doubt that he will wed upon his return.’

      Poppy’s heart sank. ‘Has he said so in any of his letters?’

      ‘Not in so many words. But, reading between the lines, I should say he’s anxious to get back. That can only mean he’s missing his fiancée. And why not? She’s such an angel, and they’re such an appropriate match … for both our families.’

      Aunt Phoebe flashed a concerned glance at Poppy, trying to read her reaction.

      ‘In what way is it such a good match?’ asked Poppy, uneasy at this information.

      ‘Because they are both good and kind people. And for no other reason than because our two families are inextricably linked financially.’

      ‘Forgive me a moment,’ Aunt Phoebe said, tactfully rising from her seat. ‘I’ll go and see what Esther is up to. I have an awful feeling she will make a dog’s dinner of the roses, unless I show her how it’s done. And Poppy hasn’t seen them yet, have you, my dear?’

      ‘No, Aunt.’

      For a few long seconds after Aunt Phoebe had left the room, Poppy and Bellamy were stuck for words. She smiled at him unsurely, the similarity in his looks poignantly reminding her of Robert. If only it was Robert sitting there looking at her so covetously.

      ‘It’s a foul night outside,’ he said at last, stymied for more stimulating conversation. ‘Had it been fine and dry, I would have ventured to ask if