Free Lady of Lincoln by Ann Barker Page B

Gareth, hearing it, drew the same conclusion as his sister: this lady did not often get the chance to laugh.
    ‘I visit some of the inmates,’ she told him unnecessarily. ‘Some of Papa’s congregation at St Mark’s get themselves into debt, you see.’
    ‘I see.’ It occurred to Sir Gareth that this spinster lady who led a very narrow and uneventful life in some people’s eyes, must find herself going into situations that were far beyond the experience of those who would make such judgements about her. ‘Do you pay their debts for them?’
    She shook her head. ‘If we did that for one we would have to do it for all; then we should be in debt ourselves. No, I generally take them some home comforts, and news from their loved ones. Then on the other hand, I try to keep an eye on the families and help them to organize their affairs, so that the debt can soon be paid.’
    ‘Very commendable,’ the baronet murmured.
    Suspecting a slight, she flushed and said, ‘It is not as exciting as going on the strut in Bond Street no doubt.’
    He looked back at her narrowing his eyes. ‘On the contrary, I would have said that it was much more exciting,’ he answered her smoothly. ‘Besides, we do not all spend our time walking up and down and looking in shop windows, you know.’
    Realizing that she had made unfair assumptions about him,Emily turned away, murmuring, ‘I beg your pardon’, in mortified tones, and thus did not see the twinkle in his eye as he inclined his head in gracious acknowledgement of her apology.
    Mrs Trimmer, feeling that the conversation needed a lighter touch, said, ‘No, some of you spend half your time in Jackson’s boxing saloon.’
    The baronet laughed. ‘I do try to look in there whenever I can,’ he admitted. ‘No doubt, though, Miss Whittaker will think that just as frivolous as looking in shop windows.’
    ‘Not at all,’ Emily answered in a flustered tone, wishing that she did not sound like a middle-aged spinster. Then, not wanting to seem abrupt, she went on, ‘Do you really fight in there, or are you just pretending?’
    ‘I have always wanted to ask that, but I have never had the courage to do so,’ Mrs Trimmer interjected.
    ‘Yes and no, Miss Whittaker,’ the baronet replied with a twinkle . ‘No, the fighting is not real, insofar as it is not done in anger; although I must admit that on one occasion, I saw two fellows there who clearly had a grudge against one another and things got a little savage. But the activity is just as strenuous as in a real fight and the moves are the same.’
    By this time, they were walking along Bailgate and Emily began to point out the various shops to them.
    ‘Do you go marketing yourself, Miss Whittaker?’ Sir Gareth asked.
    ‘Certainly I do,’ she replied. ‘It is one of the things that I enjoy the most.’ Again he cast a pitying glance in her direction. Did she never have the chance to do anything simply for her own enjoyment?
    It was quite a novelty for Emily to have companions with whom she could visit the shops. When she had been growing up, there had been very few other girls of her own age about. Then, with Patrick’s death, it was as if the outside world had become closed to her. Her mother had lost the will to live, and had gradually dwindled into an invalid, eventually needingnursing and constant care. She had finally died when Emily was twenty-three. After the family’s period of mourning was over, there had been no lady who had seemed to feel it to be her responsibility to bring Emily out, so she had stayed chiefly at home, going out to make necessary purchases for the house, or to take her Bible classes, or attend worship in the cathedral, but seldom being invited to social functions, apart from the occasional dinner with other clergy families.
    This opportunity to show another lady the shops was a pleasure that seldom came her way, therefore, and she made up her mind to enjoy it, even though the sky had clouded over,