Pamela smiled timidly, feeling much better about her troubled conscience. "Thank you. You've been most kind."
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll go see about Sarah, and baby Arthur. Then I shall have a little nap. Motherhood can be quite wearing at times. I shall see you later at supper. Do please ring if there's anything else you need."
"Thank you."
Vanessa pointed. "Sarah is right next door. She'll be happy to act as your guide. And I shall be more than pleased to give you an extensive reading list as soon as I'm more fully awake. See you anon."
Pamela washed and changed, then looked over the books which sat on the charming walnut desk. She was pleased to see that they were all improving tracts and classics.
She went to the window to gaze out at the dusk descending over the countryside. The sun hung suspended like a perfect crimson globe. She watched the rays caress the gently rolling green hills. It was lovely, not dissimilar to the view out her own window.
She wondered what it would be like to live in such a splendid home herself one day when she was finally wed. But after having seen the Stones interact with each other, she decided that perhaps a home was not simply bricks and mortar, but the people within.
The vicarage was old and rather sprawling, but Sarah and Jonathan had certainly made it into a cozy and welcoming haven. She wished she could say the same for Ashton Manor. It was elegant and refined, with none of the easy informality of Stone Court. Even the four young children did nothing to alleviate the frosty formality her Step-Mama seemed to impose upon her home. Not that she disliked her, but she had never gone out of her way to be a real mother to Pamela.
She shook her head and went over to the mirror to check her appearance. She was not going to allow herself to feel gloomy. Not when she had made so many new friends, and was here at Stone Court with Jonathan Deveril.
Her heart gave a little lift at that thought, and she went in search of Sarah.
She too had donned a fresh gown loaned by Vanessa, a rich sable brown.
"You look lovely."
"It's a bit too fine for the vicarage, but perfect for here. Are you tired? Do you wish to lie down for a while, or would you care to go below and see who is about?"
"Oh, by all means let us join the others. Vanessa has gone to rest, but I'm not in the least tired."
When they arrived downstairs, they found the three men in Clifford's study, lounging with a small glass of sherry apiece, just listening to the latest news from the war.
Clifford had evidently received a package of letters from one of the other Rakehells, Randall Avenel, with instructions to share the news with all of their associates interested in his brother Michael's news.
"He says Blake is fine but far too busy doctoring to write, so Michael has acted as secretary to take down all the information of note. Randall's own secretary was kind enough to make a fair copy of his letters to send to us. Since one of his fellow officers was coming back to London for the holidays, Randall got the packet of letters quite promptly. He sends his love and best wishes to us all. He's delighted to hear that several of us are married, and sends a big kiss to little Arthur."
"Wonderful." Jonathan caught sight of his sister and Pamela in the doorway, and sprang up, pulling down his jacket and bowing. "Forgive us. We did not see you there."
All three men had now risen. Pamela waved them down again. "Please, this is your home, Sirs, and Jonathan is an honored guest. There's no need for such formality, now is there, Sarah?"
"No, of course not. These gentlemen have all seen me in nappies with gobbets of rusk smeared all over my face."
"Not much change then, eh?" Jonathan teased.
"Oh, you," Sarah giggled, swatting his arm playfully.
"I simply meant you are as lovely as ever, except that the rusks were most efficacious, since you now have the most gorgeous set of teeth."
"Oh, so smooth-tongued, as always."
Jonathan laughed. "What do you expect from a vicar? And you would not want any Spanish coin from your brother, or indeed any other man."
"No, of course not. There's far too much empty flattery and hot air as it is, without you starting. One thing I can always rely upon is you being direct, Brother."
"Well, ladies, what would you like to do now?" the young vicar asked with a dapper bow.
Sarah deferred to Pamela. "You're the guest of honor. It's up to you."
"In that case, I should very much like to hear your friend's letters as well."
Jonathan stared at her. "Oh, um, I don't think--"
She gave a merry little smile. "I'm very grateful for you trying to protect my sensibilities, but I don't need to be protected from the ways of the world, grim and stark though they may well be."