Pasha by Julian Stockwin Page A

may I know who the fortunate man is to win your heart?”
    â€œNo one you’ve met, Hetty dear. He’s from Wiltshire, an old country family. A gentleman of travels, we might say.”
    She daintily removed her ring. “His name’s Nicholas—and, Hetty, look what he gave me at our betrothal.”
    Her friend exclaimed in delight. “How lovely! All set about with acanthus leaves—this is a fine piece, Cecilia,” she said shrewdly. “And inside—there’s writing. It’s all in Latin.
    â€œHow romantic!” She sighed, trying the ring on and admiring it wistfully as Cecilia translated the inscription. Hetty had no immediate hopes; an intelligent and practical woman but of lowly family, she could not bring herself to consider advances by the callow youths in her social circle. In any case, next to beauties such as Cecilia, with her handsome strong, dark looks, she knew she could only be accounted a pleasant soul.
    â€œYou’d never credit it, Hetty. Nicholas had been away for so long in strange parts of the world and then he calls on me without warning, and I’m not in, and he goes away again!”
    She giggled. “And all the time I had my hopes of him and never a word except to say he absolves me from any understandings. After years of … But then he returns from his business and in that very hour goes to his knees and makes his proposal.”
    â€œOh, Cecilia! How you must have stared! Did you make him wait?” she asked eagerly.
    â€œNicholas is not the man to be trifled with I’m persuaded, Hetty. I accepted him and we’re to be wed without delay.
    â€œNow, Hetty, this is not why I asked you here. There’s a favour I’d beg that would gratify me extremely were you able to grant it.”
    â€œWhy, of course, my dear.”
    â€œWell, it’s this. I know it’s scandalous short notice, but Nicholas wants me to meet his family. We’ll take the stage to Wiltshire where they live but naturally it would be improper to be seen alone together. Is it at all possible that you could take leave from Mrs Barlow for a day or two and come with us? I’d be so grateful for your company, Hetty.”
    â€œHow exciting! Yes! I was saving my days up for the summer, but this is much more fun.” She glowed with animation. “Oh, but—I’ve nothing to wear that will answer.”
    â€œI’ll lend you something.” Cecilia squeezed her friend’s arm. “Oh, my dear! I’m so nervous—what if they don’t like me? I’m so glad you’ll be there.”
    The three met at the Angel. Hetty curtsied shyly as she was introduced.
    Renzi bowed elegantly. “A friend of Cecilia’s is my friend as well, Miss Panton.”
    A four-horse post-chaise was led out to the little group with their baggage, the horses nodding and snorting impatiently.
    â€œFor us?” Cecilia cried, in consternation. “All the way to Wiltshire? Nicholas, it would be much more economical by coach, and with you travelling outside we could save—”
    â€œMy dear, allow that my means do in fact permit me this indulgence for my bride-to-be and her companion. Shall we now board?”
    The chaise lurched into motion and clattered off over the cobblestones of High Street. Quite soon they were in the deep green Surrey countryside.
    â€œI’m so excited, Nicholas. And very nervous to meet your family. You’ve never spoken about them much.”
    â€œAll in good time, my love.”
    The carriage made its way through the country, the weather remaining merciful. At the stops the two friends chatted happilytogether. Cecilia was informed at length of Hetty’s considered opinion that her betrothed was a vastly superior catch, a man of manners and consideration, and with a pleasing air of romantic mystery.
    In return Hetty was regaled with a detailed account of the ups and downs of their affair,