Gentleman's Trade by Holly Newman Page A

answer,” she began slowly. “It means different things to different people for it is a very personal feeling.” A dreamy reverie transfigured her face as she paused. She looked at Vanessa who was staring at her so intently, anxiously awaiting her answer, and a slow smile transfigured her face, setting her eyes glowing with memories and feelings. “When love comes, you will know.”
    Vanessa closed her eyes and heaved an audible sigh. “That is not an answer, Mama.”
    “I know, darling, but it’s all I can tell you.”
    Her daughter opened her eyes and shook her head ruefully. “I once received much the same answer from Louisa. And her face wore the same vague expression as yours. As I cannot imagine myself in such an amorphous state, perhaps I am not destined to know love.”
    Mrs. Mannion laughed. “Give yourself time, my love. You may be closer to it than you think,” she said enigmatically. Vanessa slumped back into the chair and lightly massaged her temples, feeling more confused and unbalanced. She needed to understand. It was one thing to know love intellectually, but it was another to understand it emotionally. She was beginning to realize the vast difference between the two types of comprehension, although that realization was no help in deciphering the puzzle. She would have to study other relationships carefully for clues, while maintaining awareness of her own reactions. At the moment, however, her mind was too muddled for further thought.
    She gathered herself together and stood up, smiling wanly at her mother. “I cannot fathom it, but perhaps I am more tired than I thought. I believe I will lie down for a while.”
    Her mother pulled her needle loose from the fabric and again began plying it with quick, sure little stitches. “Perhaps that would be best,” she agreed, while a stubborn little smile kept playing across her features, refusing to be dimmed.

    Vanessa knocked on the door of the bedroom shared by Adeline and Paulette with a certain degree of trepidation. It was nearly time to leave for the theater; Mr. Wilmot was already below and Mr. Danielson and Mr. Talverton were expected momentarily. She hadn’t known how to broach the subject of Mr. Danielson to Adeline, and she still needed to resolve that arrangement for the evening. She hoped her sister wouldn’t mind, and go along with the plan. Though Adeline was a shy, quiet woman, she was noted for occasionally revealing a hidden iron determination and strength, like her beloved flowers, bending but not breaking in the wind. It was odd, Vanessa thought, though she and her sisters were very different for Louisa was the sociable one, she the serious one, and Adeline the kind one, they all possessed a stubborn strength. None of them would contemplate falling into a fit of vapors at shocking events, and they had all been among the leaders of the corps of women who aided the soldiers after the Battle of New Orleans.
    Adeline opened the door, and so deep was Vanessa in her thoughts, she nearly jumped.
    “Come in,” Adeline invited, stepping aside. “Leila is still working with Paulette’s hair, but we shouldn’t be too long.”
    “I came to tell you Mr. Wilmot has arrived and Father desires we make our entrance.”
    “Has Mr. Talverton arrived?” Paulette asked, hardly daring to move while Leila coaxed an errant curl into place.
    “Not yet.”
    “Well, I, for one, will not descend until he does. I shall make a grand entrance on the stairs, and he shall look up and admire me.” She flung her arm out dramatically. “Ouch!” she yelped, feeling a sharp tug on a lock of hair.
    Leila placidly waited for Paulette to settle down before continuing to pin her curls in place.
    “And what are your plans for us?” Adeline inquired good-naturedly. “Are we to go down before you or are we to wait until after you’ve made your entrance?”
    “In truth, that is a good question. I think you go before so that will heighten the anticipation for