Crissy had laughed and mocked Johnsy as she got into the coach. "Shame on you, Johnsy. What would I be doin' fallin' in love with a London dandy when I 'ave Tommy 'ere waitin' on my return?" Crissy threw a kiss at Tommy Huntington, who had come to see them off. Tommy lowered his head in feigned embarrassment, but John could tell that he wasn't happy about Crissy's journey to the city.
Tommy lived with his father, Lord Huntington, on a neighboring estate. Since there were no girls of Crissy's age living nearby, she and Tommy had been constant companions since childhood. John and Lord Huntington had always hoped they might marry someday. But Tommy, with his sandy brown hair and light brown eyes, was only six months older than Crissy and was still just a boy in John's eyes. Crissy was now a young woman, however, and of an age to marry. John had hoped that Tommy would mature as soon as Crissy, but perhaps she would wait for him if she loved him.
Who knows how the mind of a woman works, John thought absently. He didn't even understand Crissy's feelings for Tommy: whether she felt only friendship for him, or something more. He must remember to ask her about it later, but she would probably be so busy the next few weeks that he wouldn't have a chance.
John smiled, imagining the surprised faces of the young men who would seek her out when they discovered that Crissy was not only beautiful but intelligent as well. John chuckled to himself, recalling the heated argument that their parents had had over Crissy's education. They had compromised, and Crissy was schooled like any man but was also taught the feminine arts of sewing and cooking whenever their mother could find her.
Yes, Crissy was educated and she was beautiful, but she had her faults. Her downright stubbornness was one fault that she had inherited from their mother, who would stand her ground on any subject if she felt herself in the right Another fault was her quick temper, for she could get angry over the smallest thing.
John sighed, thinking how hectic the next two weeks would be. Well, it would only be two weeks. He dozed off then, as the coach continued along the lonely road to London.
Christina and John Wakefield were still asleep when their coach pulled up in front of the two-story house on Portland Place. The sun had just edged over the horizon, turning the sky from pink to soft blue, and the birds were singing cheerfully.
Christina awakened when the driver opened the door of the coach. "We've arrived, Miss Christina," he said apologetically, and went to take down the luggage from the back of the sturdy vehicle.
Christina sat up and straightened her hair, which had fallen in long tresses all about her. She smoothed her dress and glanced at John, who was still sleeping soundly across from her, his blond hair lying softly across his high forehead.
She shook his leg gently. "John, we're here! Wake up!"
Slowly John opened his dark blue eyes and smiled, running a hand through his hair as he sat up straight. Christina noticed that his eyes were bloodshot. He must not have slept very long last night. She was surprised that she had slept so soundly.
"Come on, John! You know how excited I am," she pleaded.
"Slow down, young lady," he laughed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "The Yeatses are probably still sleeping."
"But I can unpack and get settled in, then spend the day shopping. You did say I could have a new wardrobe, and what better time to buy it than my first day here? Then I can wear my new clothes during our stay," she said happily as she jumped out of the coach.
"Didn't that etiquette instructor teach you anything at all, Crissy?" he scolded her, shaking his head at her breach of propriety. "I know you're excited, but next time wait until I help you down from the coach."
They walked up the few stairs to a pair of large double doors, and John knocked loudly. "The whole house is probably asleep," he said, knocking again.
But the doors swung open wide, surprising them both. A small, chubby woman with red cheeks and graying hair smiled out at them.
"You must be Christina and John Wakefield. Come in— come in. We've been expecting you."
They entered a small hallway carpeted with an Oriental rug, with a stairway at the end. A mahogany table stood against one wall, laden with small, lacy figurines.
"I am Mrs. Douglas, the housekeeper. You must be tired after your journey. Would you like to rest a bit before startin' your day? Mr. and Mrs. Yeats are still abed," she said cheerfully, leading them to the stairs.
"John probably could use more sleep, but I would just love a hot bath and then some breakfast, if it isn't too much trouble," Christina said as they reached the upstairs landing.
"No trouble at all, miss," Mrs. Douglas said. She showed them their rooms and left.
The driver followed them up with the luggage, and then went to tend the horses. John excused himself, saying a nap was just what he needed, when a young maid entered with water for Christina's bath.
"I be Mary, the upstairs maid," she said shyly as she pulled out a large tub and poured the water in. "If there's anything you be needin', miss, just let me know," she added.
"Thank you, Mary."
Christina surveyed the room. It was small compared to her bedroom at home, but beautiful. A gold plush carpet covered the floor, and the gold-canopied bed had a small marble-topped commode on one side and an ornate chest of drawers on the other. A green-velvet settee stood in the corner by the single window, which was draped in light-green velvet, and a gilt-framed mirror leaned against another wall.
Mary finished putting away the clothes Christina had brought with her just as more water arrived, and Christina was finally left alone. After pinning up her hair, she undressed and sank into the steaming hot water. She leaned back and relaxed.
For as long as she could remember, Christina had dreamed of this trip to the city. She had always been thought too young before, and last year, when she was sixteen, John had been away with his regiment. He had come home a lieutenant in Her Majesty's Army and now was awaiting further orders.
She had lived her whole life at Wakefield Manor. But she had enjoyed a wonderful childhood growing up in the country, running wild like a tomboy, and often getting into trouble. She remembered how Tommy and she used to hide in the loft of the Huntington stables and listen to old Peter, the head groom. He was always swearing and talking to himself and the horses. Christina learned the most unladylike words from old Peter, most of which she didn't understand. But one day Tommy's father discovered them hiding in the loft. They both got a severe scolding, and Christina was not allowed near the Huntington stables for a very long time.
Christina was no longer the tomboy she once was. She wore dresses now instead of the breeches Johnsy had made for her because she was always getting dirty and tearing her clothes. She was a lady now, and she enjoyed being one.
Christina finished bathing and dressed in a cool cotton dress with a floral pattern. She realized it wasn't in fashion, but she wanted to be comfortable as she did her shopping. She combed out her long golden hair and then pinned it up into a mass of curls and ringlets. Picking up the bonnet she would wear, she went downstairs to breakfast.
She found the dining room through one of the doors off the hall. John was sitting at the huge table with Howard and Kathren Yeats. She could smell the sweet aroma of ham and apple turnovers, for the table was laden with them and with eggs and muffins.
"Christina, my dear. I can't tell you how pleased we are to have you here." Kathren Yeats smiled at her with soft gray eyes. "We've just been telling John of the parties that we've been invited to, and there will be a grand ball for you to attend before your stay is over."