A Lady’s Guide to Scandal A Novel-Amazon Kindle

PRAISEFORALADY’SGUIDETOFORTUNE-HUNTING
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ALADY’SGUIDETOSCANDAL
SophieIrwingrewupinDorset,England;afteruniversity,shemovedtoLondontoworkinpublishing.ALady’sGuidetoFortune-Huntingwasherdebut,andALady’sGuidetoScandalishersecondnovel.
PenguinReadingGroupDiscussionGuideavailableonlineatpenguinrandomhouse.comPENGUINBOOKS
AnimprintofPenguinRandomHouseLLC
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FirstpublishedinGreatBritainbyHarperFiction,animprintofHarperCollinsPublishers,2023
PublishedinPenguinBooks2023
Copyright?2023byIrwinEditorialLtd
PenguinRandomHousesupportscopyright.Copyrightfuelscreativity,encouragesdiversevoices,promotesfreespeech,andcreatesavibrantculture.Thankyouforbuyinganauthorizededitionofthisbookandforcomplyingwithcopyrightlawsbynotreproducing,scanning,ordistributinganypartofitinanyformwithoutpermission.YouaresupportingwritersandallowingPenguinRandomHousetocontinuetopublishbooksforeveryreader.
libraryofcongresscataloging-in-publicationdata
Names:Irwin,Sophie,author.
Title:Alady’sguidetoscandal:anovel/SophieIrwin.
Description:NewYork:PenguinBooks,2023.
Identifiers:LCCN2023005726(print)|LCCN2023005727(ebook)|ISBN9780593492000(tradepaperback)|ISBN9780593491997(ebook)
Subjects:LCSH:Upperclass—GreatBritain—19thcentury—Fiction.|London(England)—History—19thcentury—Fiction.|LCGFT:Romancefiction.|Historicalfiction.|Novels.
Classification:LCCPR6109.R94L3352023(print)|LCCPR6109.R94(ebook)|DDC823/.92—dc23/eng/20230210
LCrecordavailableathttps://lccn.loc.gov/2023005726
LCebookrecordavailableathttps://lccn.loc.gov/2023005727
Coverartanddesign:LibbyVanderPloeg
Thisisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,places,andincidentseitheraretheproductoftheauthor’simaginationorareusedfictitiously,andanyresemblancetoactualpersons,livingordead,businesses,companies,events,orlocalesisentirelycoincidental.
pid_prh_6.0_144228924_c0_r0Contents
Cover
PraiseforALady’sGuidetoFortune-Hunting
AbouttheAuthor
TitlePage
Copyright
Dedication
Epigraph
Chapter1
Chapter2
Chapter3
Chapter4
Chapter5
Chapter6
Chapter7
Chapter8
Chapter9
Chapter10
Chapter11
Chapter12
Chapter13
Chapter14
Chapter15
Chapter16
Chapter17
Chapter18
Chapter19
Chapter20
Chapter21
Chapter22
Chapter23
Chapter24
Chapter25
Chapter26
Chapter27
Chapter28
Chapter29
Chapter30
Chapter31
Chapter32
Chapter33
Chapter34
Acknowledgments
ExcerptfromALady’sGuidetoFortune-Hunting
_144228924_ForFreya(theliquorinourcocktails)“Shehadbeenforcedintoprudenceinheryouth,shelearnedromanceasshegrewolder—thenaturalsequelofanunnaturalbeginning.”
Persuasion,JaneAusten
1
HAREFIELDHALL,1819
Comenow,Eliza,surelyyoucanmanageonetear?”Mrs.Balfourwhisperedtoherdaughter.“Itisexpectedfromthewidow!”
Elizanodded,thoughhereyesremainedasdryasever.Howevermanyyearsshehadspentplayingthepartofobedientdaughteranddutifulwife,weepinguponcommandwasstillbeyondher.
“Recollectthatwemayhaveafightonourhandstoday,”Mrs.Balfourhissed,sendingameaningfulglanceacrossthelibrarytowherethelateEarlofSomerset’srelationssat.Ninemonthsafterthefuneralprocession,theyhadallgatheredagainatHarefieldHallforthereadingofthewill,andfromthefrostyglancesbeingsenttheirway,itseemedMrs.Balfourwasnottheonlyonepreparingforbattle.
“Eliza’sjointurewasagreedinthemarriagesettlement:fivehundredpoundsayear,”Mr.Balfourreassuredhiswifeinawhisper.“Somersethasnoreasontodisputethat;it’stheveriestfragmentoftheestate.”
Hespokewithbitterness,forneitherhenorMrs.BalfourhadfullyreconciledthemselvestoEliza’sseverelychangedcircumstances.Adecadeago,themarriageoftimid,seventeen-year-oldMissElizaBalfourtotheaustereEarlofSomerset—fiveandtwentyyearshersenior—hadbeenthematchoftheSeason,andtheBalfourshadreapeditsrewardsquitecomprehensively.Withinayearofthewedding,theireldestsonhadmarriedanheiress,theirsecondhadbeensecuredacaptaincyinthe10thFoot,andBalfourHousehadbeenrecarpetedentirelyincut-velvet.
Butnoonehadexpectedtheearl,withsostrongaconstitution,tosuccumbsoquicklytoaninflammationofthelungslastspring.Andnow,widowedatsevenandtwentyyears,andwithoutachildtoinheritthetitle,Eliza’spositionwasfarlessdesirable.Fivehundredpoundsayear…Personscouldanddidliveonfarless,butonthissubjectElizaagreedwithherfather.Tenyearsofmarriagetoamanwhohadshownmoreaffectiontohishorsesthanhiswife,tenyearsofnearisolationinthecold,forbiddingHarefieldHall,tenyearsofyearningforthelifeshemighthavehad,ifonlycircumstanceshadbeenalittledifferent…Givenexactlywhat—givenexactlywho—Elizahadbeenforcedtogiveup,fivehundredpoundsayearfeltapittance.
“Hadsheonlygivenhimason…”Mr.Balfourbemoaned,forperhapsthefifthtime.
“Shetried!”Mrs.Balfoursnapped.
Elizabithertongue,hard.MissMargaretBalfour—Eliza’scousin—pressedherhandunderthetable,andtheclockstruckhalfpasttwelve.Theyhadnowbeenwaitinghalfanhourforthenewearl,whosepresencewouldallowthereadingtobegin.Eliza’sstomachclenchedinanticipation.Surely—surely—hewouldarrivesoon.
“Disgraceful,”Mrs.Balfourmuttered,herfacestillfixedinplacid,smilingrepose.“Ninemonthslatealready,andlatetoday,too.Isitnotdisgraceful,Eliza?”
“Yes,Mama,”Elizasaidautomatically.Itwasalwayseasiesttoagree,thoughtheunnaturaldelaywastruthfullythefaultoftheoldearl,notthenew.Foritwastheoldearlwhohadstipulatedhiswillnotbereaduntilallpartiesnamedwithinitwereassembled.SincethenewEarlofSomerset—Eliza’shusband’snephew,previouslytheheirpresumptiveCaptainCourtenay—hadbeenstationedintheWestIndieswhenhisunclediedlastApril,andsincesailingconditionsin’18hadbeenunprecedentedlyslow,hisdelayedreturnwasunderstandable.Torturous,butunderstandable.
Allassembledinthelibraryhadalreadybeenwaitingmanymonthsandthelatenessofthehourtodaywastakingitstoll:theHonorableMrs.Courtenay(sister-in-lawtotheoldearl,mothertothenew)hadhereyesfixedonthedoor,herdaughterLadySelwynwastappingherfingersimpatiently,whileLordSelwynsoughttosoothehisownnervesbyregalingtheroomwithvarioustalesofhisownsuperiority.
“AndIsaidtohim:Byron,oldboy,yousimplymustwritethething!”
Besidehim,atthecenteroftheroom,theSomersetattorney,Mr.Walcot,shuffledandreshuffledhispaperswithapainedsmile.Everyonewasimpatient,butofallofthem,surelynonemoresothanEliza,whofelt—witheverytickofthegrandfatherclock—hernervesreachnew,dangerousheights.Aftertenyears—tenlongyears—todayshewouldseehimagain.Itdidnotfeelreal.
Hemightstillnotcome.Alifetimeofdisappointmentshadtaughtherthevirtueofpreparingfortheworst:perhapshehadmistakenthedate,orperhapshiscarriagehadsufferedanawfulcrash,orperhapshehaddecidedtoreturntotheWestIndiesratherthanhavetoseeheragain.Itwasunlikehimtobelate,hehadalwaysbeensopunctual.Or,atleast,thegentlemanElizahadonceknownwaspunctual.Perhapshehadchanged.
Finally,however,astheclockstruckquartertothehour,thedooropened.
“TheRightHonorable,theEarlofSomerset,”Perkins,theirbutler,announced.
“Mysincereapologiesforthelatenessofthehour,”thenewLordSomersetsaid,steppingintotheroom.“Therainhasmadetheroadstreacherous…”
Eliza’sreactionwasinstantaneous.Herheartbegantobeatfaster,herbreathbecamelabored,herstomachclenched,andshestood,notbecauseitwaspolite,butbecausetheforceofrecognitionreverberatingthroughhermeantshesimplyhadto.Allthemonthsshehadspentimaginingthismoment—andshestilldidnotfeelatallpreparedforit.
“Oliver,darling!”Mrs.Courtenayhurriedovertoherson,eyesshining,LadySelwynclosebehind,andSomersetembracedhismotherandhissister,inturn.Mrs.Balfourcluckedhertongueindisapprovalofthisbreachofetiquette—heoughtproperlytohaveaddressedElizafirst—butElizapaidnoheed.Inmanyways,heappearedthesame.Hewasstillverytall,hishairwasstillveryfair,hiseyesthesamecoolgreyastherestofhisfamily,andhestillcarriedhimselfwithanairofcalmassurancethathadalwaysbeendecidedlyhisown.Undertheeffectsofadecade-longnavalcareerhowever,therewasagreaterbreadthacrosstheshoulderwhichhadnotexistedinhimasayoungermanandhispaleskinhaddarkenedunderthesun.Itsuitedhim.Itsuitedhimverywell.
Somersetreleasedhissister’shandsandturnedtoEliza.Shewassuddenlyhorriblyawarethattheyearshadnotbeennearlysokindtoher.Withasmallstature,brownhairanduncommonlylargeanddarkeyes,shehadalwaysresembledsomesortofstartlednocturnalanimal,butnowshefeared—withtheall-blackensembleofherwidow’sweeds,andafiguredrawnandtiredfromtheuncertaintyofthepastmonths—thatsheappearedpositivelyrattish.
“LadySomerset,”hesaid,bowingbeforeher.
Hisvoicewasthesame,too.
“Mylord,”Elizasaid.Shecouldfeelherfingerstremblingandfistedtheminherskirtsasshecurtseyedshakily,bracingherselftomeethiseyes.Whatwouldsheseeinthem—anger,perhaps?Recrimination?Shedidnotdaretohopeforwarmth.Shedidnotdeserveit.Theyrosefromtheirbowsasone,andatlast,atverylonglast,theireyesmet.Andasshelookedintohiseyes,shesaw…nothing.
“Mymostsincereapologiesforyourloss,”hesaid.Hiswordswerecivil,histoneneutral.Hisexpressioncouldonlybedescribedaspolite.
“Th-thankyou,”Elizasaid.“Ihopeyourjourneywaspleasant?”
ThepleasantriestrippedoffEliza’stonguewithoutthinking,whichwasagoodthingindeed,becauseatthismomentshewasnotcapableofthought.
“Asmuchascouldbe,withsuchweatheraswehavehad,”hesaid.Therewasnoevidence,inhismannerordeportmentortone,thathewassharinginanyoftheturmoilchurningthroughEliza’smind.Heappeared,infact,totallyunaffectedbyseeingher.Asiftheyhadnevermetbefore.
Asifhehadnot,once,askedhertomarryhim.
“Yes…”Elizaheardherselfsay,asiffromagreatdistance.“Therain…hasbeenmostvicious.”
“Indeed,”heagreed,withasmile—exceptitwasnotasmileshehadeverseendirectedatherselfbefore.Polite.Formal.Insincere.
“Goodtoseeyou,oldboy,goodtoseeyouindeed.”Selwynhadcomeforward,handoutstretched,andSomersetreciprocatedthehandshakewithasmilethatwassuddenlywarmagain.Hemovedtowardthemiddleoftheroom,awayfromtheBalfours—leavingElizablinkingafterhim.
Wasthatit?Afteralltheiryearsapart,allthetimeElizahadspentwonderingoverhiswhereabouts,hishappiness,poringovereverymemoryoftheirtimetogether,ofallthehoursspentregrettingeverysingleoneoftheeventsthathadconspiredtokeepthemapart—thiswastobetheirreunion?Asingle,shortexchangeofcommonplaces?
Elizashivered.TheJanuarychillhadpervadedtheairallmorning—herlatehusband’sdiktatthatfiresremainunlituntilnightfallhadoutlivedhim—butnowitseemedtoElizaveritablyicy.AwholedecadeofexistingliterallyoceansapartandyetOliver—Somerset—hadneverfeltmoredistanttoElizathaninthismoment.
“Shallwebegin?”Selwynprompted.EvenbeforeSelwynhadmarriedthelateearl’sniece,thetwogentlemenhadbeenclosefriends,fortheirlandssharedaborder—butforthesamereasontheirrelationshiphadalsobeentemperamental.Indeed,theirlastbusinessmeetingbeforetheoldearl’sdeathhaddeterioratedintoaquarrelloudenoughtodeafenthewholehousehold—andyet,fromtheeagernessinSelwyn’sface,hewasclearlyexpectantofagreatbequeathmenttoday
Nodding,Mr.Walcotspreadoutthepapersinfrontofhim,andtheBalfours,SelwynsandCourtenayswatchedfromtheirrespectivesidesoftheroom,wolfishandhungry.Thescenewouldmakeforadramatictableau.Oils,inhighcolor,perhaps.Eliza’sfingerstwitchedforapaintbrush.
“ThisisthelastwillandtestamentofJuliusEdwardCourtenay,tenthEarlofSomerset…”
Eliza’sattentionfadedasMr.Walcotbegantolistthemanywaysinwhichthenewearlwasabouttobecomevery,veryrich.Mrs.Courtenaylookedabouttocryindelight,LadySelwynwasbitingbackasmile,butSomersetwasfrowning.Washedauntedatthevastnessofthehoard,perhapsevensurprised?Heshouldnotbe.Evendespitethelateearl’sausterity,HarefieldHallwasstillaveritableshrinetothefamily’saffluence:fromitswallsofhorns,hidesandhuntingtrophiestoitsexquisiteporcelainteasets,fromtheparadeofPersianhelmetsandIndianswordsalongthegreatstaircasetotheoillandscapesdisplayingsugarplantationstheyhadonceowned,Harefieldworeitslootproudly.Andintheworkofafewshortsentences,thisnewSomersetowneditall.HewasnowoneoftherichestandmosteligiblemeninEngland.Fromthismomenton,everyunattachedladyinEnglandwouldbefallingathisfeet.
WhereasEliza…Aftertoday,shecouldremainatHarefield,toactasthenewearl’shostessuntilhemarried,removetotheDowerHouseontheedgeoftheestate,orreturntoherchildhoodhome.Noneoftheseoptionswasparticularlythrilling.ToreturntoBalfourtoliveunderherparents’watchfuleyeoncemorewouldbeghastly,buttoremainhere,insuchcloseproximitytoamanwhoclearlyfeltnothingforher,whileshehadspentadecadeyearningforhim?Itwouldbeitsownkindoftorture.
“ToElizaEuniceCourtenay,theRightHonorableCountessofSomerset…”
Elizadidnotevenfocusherattentionatthesoundofhername—butfromthewayMr.Balfourhadleanedbackinhisseat,whiskersrelaxing,itwasclearthateverythingMr.Walcothadreportedwasinlinewiththemarriagesettlement.Herfuture—suchasitwas—wassecured.Inhermind’seye,theyearsstretchedoutaheadofher,greyanduninteresting.
“Inaddition,andinrespecttoherdutyandobedience…”
Howdepressing,tobedescribedinsuchterms,asonemightafaithfulhound,buthermothervisiblyperkedup,eyesbrighteningwithgreed,clearlyhopefulthattheoldlordhadbequeathedElizasomethingadditional—anexpensivejewelfromhiscollection,perhaps.
“…andconditionaluponherbringingnodishonortotheSomersetname…”
Howlikehimtoattachamoralityclausetowhateversmallbequeathmenthehadthoughtappropriate—ungeneroustotheverylast.
“AllmyestatesatChepstow,ChawleyandHighbridge,forheruseabsolutely.”
Eliza’smindcametosuddenattention.WhathadMr.Walcotjustsaid?
Allatonce,aroomthathadbeenquietandstillbecameveryloud.
“Repeatthatlast,wouldyou,Walcot?Musthavemisheard!”Selwynboomed,takingastepforward.
“Yes,Mr.Walcot,I’mnotsurethatcanhavebeenright!”Mrs.Courtenay’svoicewashighandpiercingassheraisedherselffromherchair.Mr.Balfourstood,too,handreachingoutasifabouttodemandtoreadthedocumenthimself.
“ToElizaEuniceCourtenay,”Mr.Walcotrepeatedobediently,“inrespecttoherloyaltyandobedience—andconditionaluponherbringingnodishonortotheSomersetname—IbequeathallmyestatesatChepstow,ChawleyandHighbridgeforheruseabsolutely.”
“Preposterous!”Selwynwashavingnoneofit.“Juliuswastobequeaththoselandstoouryoungerson,Tarquin.”
“Hetoldmeso,too!”LadySelwyninsisted.“Hepromisedme.”
“LadySomerset’sjointurewasagreedatthemarriagesettlement,wasitnot?”Mrs.Courtenayadded.“Therewasnomentionofthis,then!”
“AretheSomersetlandsnotallentailedonthetitle?”Margaretsaid,puzzled,onlytobeloudlyshushedbyMrs.Balfour.
“Ifthatisthelateearl’sbequest,ifitisinthewill,thenyoucanhavenoissuewithit!”Mr.Balfourinsistedtotheroomingeneral.
TheyseemedtohaveentirelyforgottenElizawasthere.
“TheestatesatChepstow,ChawleyandHighbridgewereinheritedbytheearlthroughhismother’sline,andthereforewerehistodowithashewished,”Mr.Walcotsaidcalmly.
“Preposterous!”Selwynsaidagain.“Thatcannotbethecorrectdocument!”
“Iassureyou,itis,”Mr.Walcotsaid.
“AndI’mtellingyouitisthewrongone,man!”Selwynsaidheatedly,allpretenseofjovialitygone.“Isawitbefore—anditnamedTarquin,Isawit!”
“Itusedto,”Mr.Walcotagreed.“Butthelateearlinstructedmetoamendthislineonlyafortnightbeforehisdeath.”
Selwyn’spucefaceturnedwhite.
“Yourquarrel,”LadySelwynwhispered.
“Wewerediscussingaloan—itwasjustbusiness,”Selwynbreathed.“Hecannothave,hewouldnothave—”
Ah,sothatwaswhytheyhadargued:Selwynhadrequestedaloan.Elizacouldhavewarnedhimagainstsuchfoolishness—indeed,Selwynmusthavebeendesperateforhewouldmostcertainlyhaveknownthattheincurablyfrugalandexceedinglyproudlateearlconsideredappealstohispursetheveryheightofimpertinence.
“Iassureyouthatonthis—andeveryothermatter—thelateearlwasquiteclear,”Mr.Walcotsaidcalmly.“ThelandsaretogotoLadySomerset.”
SelwynroundeduponEliza.
“Whatpoisondidyouwhisperinhisear?”hesnapped.
“Howdare—”Mrs.Balfourwasswellingwithindignation.
“Selwyn!”Somerset’svoicerangout,coldandremonstrative,andSelwyntookastepbackfromEliza.
“Myapologies—Ididnotmean…A—aregrettablelapseinmanners…”
LadySelwynwasnotcowed.“Whatofthemoralityclause?Didmyunclegiveanyotherelaboration—anyindicationofwhatkindofbehaviorwasmeant?”
“Idonotseehowthatisrelevant,”Mrs.Balfoursaid,“givenmydaughter’sreputationisunimpeachable.”
“Giventhatmyunclefeltitappropriatetoincludeinhiswill,itfeelsveryrelevant,Mrs.Balfour,”LadySelwynsaidsharply.
“Weintendnodisrespect,”Mrs.Courtenayinterjected.“LadySomersetknowsweareveryfondofher.”
LadySomersetverymuchdidnotknowthis.
“AllthelateearlspecifiedisthattheinterpretationoftheclauseisatthediscretionoftheeleventhEarlofSomerset—andnooneelse,”Mr.Walcotsaid
Selwyn,LadySelwynandMrs.Courtenayallopenedtheirmouthstoargue,butSomersetinterrupted.
“Ifthebequeathmentwasmyuncle’swish,Icertainlydonothaveanissuewithit,”Somersetsaid,voicefirm.
“Ofcourse,ofcourse,”Selwynhadclawedbacksomegeniality.“But,mydearboy,Ithinkitwouldbehooveustodiscusswhatsortofbehaviorwouldconstitute—”
“Idisagree,”Somersetsaid,speakinginaquietlyconfidentmannerandseemingnotatallbotheredbytheglaresofhisfamily.“AndunlessLadySomersethaschangedagreatdealsinceIwaslastuponBritishsoil,sheisincapableofcausingevenaraisedeyebrow.”
Elizalookeddown,hercheeksreddening.Intimespast,whileshehadadmiredSomerset’sconviction,inherhehadbemoanedtheopposite.
“Exactly,”Mrs.Balfouragreed,hervoicesatisfied.
“Butgiventheunusualnatureofsuchaclause,”Somersetwenton.“Ithinkitoughttoremainamongstus,only.Noneofuswouldwanttocauseanygossip,afterall.”
Therewerenodsofagreementfromaroundtheroom—theBalfoursenthusiastic,theSelwynsreluctant,whileMrs.Courtenaylookedabouttocryagain.
Therewasalong,longpause.
“Howmuchincomedotheestatesyieldyearly?”Selwynasked.
Mr.Walcotmadeabriefreferencetohisnotes.
“Onaverage,”hesaid,“theyyieldanincomeofjustaboveninethousandpoundsayear.Withherjointure,altogetheritisanincomeoftenthousandannually.”
Tenthousandpoundsayear.
Tenthousandpounds.Everyyear.
Shewasrich.
Shewasveryrich.
RicherthanLadyOxfordorLadyPelham,thosecelebratedheiresses,thediamondsoftheirrespectiveSeasons;richerthanmanyofthelordsinWhitehall.Coulditreallybetrue?HerhusbandhadnevergivenanyindicationthatElizawasanythingotherthanaperpetualdisappointmenttohim.Inferiortohisfirstwifeineveryway,andyetsimilarlyunabletogivehimason.Andyetnow,hisspite—hisdispleasureatSelwyn’sbehavior—hadcausedhimtoshowElizaagenerositythatshehadneverfeltinhislifetime.Tenthousandpoundsayear.HehadmadeElizaaverywealthywoman.
Elizafeltasifthethreadtyinghertonormalcyhadjustbeencut,andshewasspinningawayandaway.Shecouldnothaverepeatedasinglethingelsethathappenedintherestofthereading,onlyregisteringitsconclusionwheneveryonebegantostandand,mechanically,shetoofollowedsuit.Therefrainof“tenthousandpoundsayear”wasreboundingaroundhermindliketheloudestofechoes,preventingherfromthinkingofanythingelse.
“Tenthousandpounds!”Margaretwhisperedexcitedlyinherear,astheyfiledout.“Doyouunderstandwhatthismeans?”
Elizatwitchedherhead,whetherinanodorshake,shedidnotknow.
“Itwillchangeeverything,Eliza!”2
ThefollowingafternoonfoundElizastandinguponHarefield’sfrontsteps,readytobidherguestsfarewell.OnlyMargaret,whohadactedasEliza’scompanionsincetheearl’sdeathandwouldcontinuetodosoforafortnightlonger,wastostay,andElizacouldhardlywaitforHarefieldtobetheirownagain.Elizaheardherparentsbeforeshesawthem,Mr.Balfourbarkingcommandstothefootmen,Mrs.Balfourreprimandingthemaids,andastheyappearedthroughtheoakfrontdoors,shetookinafortifyingbreath.
“Youcandoit,”Margaretwhisperedinherear.Ithadbeenplain,inthehourssincethewillreading,thatMr.BalfourfullyexpectedtoholdthepursestringsofEliza’snewfortune.ThiswouldbeEliza’sfinalchancetodisabuseherparentsofthisnotion.
“Weshallseeyouinafewweeks,ofcourse,”Mrs.Balfoursaid.
“Youmustn’ttarry,theroadswillonlyworsen,”Mr.Balfourinstructed.
“Iwonderedif—”Elizabegantentatively.
“Bythen,allyourmostpressingfinancialbusinesswillbemanaged,”Mrs.Balfoursaid.“Won’tthey,husband?”
“Yes,IhavealreadyspokentoMr.Walcot.”
ThisbeingthemostheartfeltfarewellMr.Balfourcouldmuster,hegaveElizaasharpnodanddisappeareddownthesteps,leavingElizawithhermother—themoreforbiddingopponent.
“Ithoughtperhaps…”Elizasaid.
“WethinkitbestifyoumakeHector’sboyyourheir,”Mrs.Balfoursaidbriskly.
HectorwasEliza’syoungestbrother.
“Idon’tknowthat—”
“Rupert,Ithink,wouldbenefitmost,”Mrs.Balfour’svoiceoverrodeEliza’s
Ofallherbrother’sentitledweasels,Rupertwastheworst.
“IthinkIwouldprefer—”
“Mr.Balfourcanorganizethepapersassoonasyoureturnhome.”Mrs.BalfourpattedEliza’scheekinaconcludingsortofway.
Itisnotyours,Elizamightsaytohermother,ifshewerebraver.Itisnotyourfortunetospend,ortoassignortoorganizeoutofmyreach.
“Yes,Mama,”Elizasighed,defeated.
“Itisdecided.Goodbye,then—weshallseeyouanon.Andrecollectthatyouarestillthecountess,darling:yououghtn’ttoallowthoseSelwynstorunroughshodoveryou.”
TheironyofMrs.BalfourissuingsuchadvicewasnotlostuponEliza—norMargaret,whoonlybarelysuppressedachokeoflaughter—andwiththisfinalinstructiondelivered,Mrs.Balfourleft.
“Iknowsheisyourmotherandmyaunt,”Margaretsaid,astheywatchedMrs.Balfourclimbintothecarriage.“ButifIsawherbalancedprecariouslyupontheedgeofacliff—perhapsabouttofallintotheocean—Iwouldhesitatetoact.Iwouldn’tpushher,butIwouldmostdefinitelyhesitate.”
UnlikeEliza,Margaret’sgeneralmannerofconversationwastosayexactlywhatshethought,atexactlythemomentshethoughtit,atraittheirfamilydeemedasthereasonshehadnevermarried.ElizawasjustsparingamomentofthanksthatMrs.Balfourwasatleastnolongerinearshot,whenaquietcoughhadthembothturning.Somersethadappearedinthedoorwayand,bythehumorouscastofhisexpression,hadoverheardMargaret’slessthanrespectfulremark.ElizaflushedpinkonMargaret’sbehalf.
“Ah,”Margaretsaid,notsoundingparticularlyworried.
“IshallpretendIdidnothearthat,”Somersetresponded,amused.Intheiryouth,hehadstooduponfriendlytermswithMargaretanditappearedhisindulgenceofherincivilitiesremained.
“Ifyoucould,”Margaretsaid.
Somersetgrinned,hissmilebreakingthroughhisreservejustasthesunshonethroughclouds,andEliza’sbreathcaught—butthenheturnedtowardher,andthewarmthvanishedasswiftlyasithadappeared.
“YourfatherhasinformedmethatyouintendtoreturntoBalfour,mylady,”hesaid,andthoughhewasmakingdirecteyecontact,Elizafeltasifheweregazingstraightthroughher.
Lookatme!Elizawantedtoshoutathim.Iamhere,lookatme!
“Yes,”shesaidinstead,voiceasquietasamouse.“Ido.”
Ladiesdidnotshout,nomattertheprovocation.
Somersetnodded,hisexpressiongivingawaynothing.Washerelieved?Hemustbe
“Ifthatiswhatyouwish,”hesaid.
Itwasnot.Itwasnotwhatshewishedatall.Butwhatotherchoicewasthere?
“Youmayofcoursehaveanyofthecarriagesforthejourney,”hewenton.“Andifyouwishtotakeanyofthehouseholdservants…”
“Thatiskind,”Elizasaid.
“Itisnothing,”hesaid,andhesoundedasthoughhemeantit.Couldtherebeanythingmoreexcruciatingthanthisapathy?
“Nevertheless,youhavemythanks,”Elizapressed.
Therewasapause.
“Youneednotthankme,”Somersetsaidquietly.“Itisnomorethanmyduty,asheadofthefamily.”
Aremarkwhichwas,infact,moreexcruciatingthanhisapathy.Duty.Family.Thewordsburned.
“Farewell,mydearLadySomerset!”LadySelwynsangwithaffectedsweetness,asshesweptthroughthedoorway.“Wecannotthankyouenoughforyourhospitality.”
“Farewell,mylady.”Mrs.Courtenay,notsoskilledanactressasherdaughter,didnotsmile.
“Youbehaveyourself,now!”Selwynsaid,waggingafingerinEliza’sface.“Wewouldn’twanttotakethatfortuneawayfromyou,wouldwe?”
“Selwyn!”Somersetsaid,insharpremonstration.
“LadySomersetknowsIamonlyfunning!”
“Ofcourseshedoes,”LadySelwynagreed.ShelookedfromSomersettoEliza,andherexpressiontightened.“Somerset—mayIborrowyourarmtoclimbintothecarriage?”
“Willyourhusband’sarmnotserve,Augusta?”Somersetsuggestedmildly.“IhaveafewmatterstodiscusswithLadySomerset.”
LadySelwynshotElizaastingingglance,asifthiswereherfault,butreluctantlyretreatedwithherhusbandandmother.
“Iwillbeintownforthenextfortnight,”SomersetsaidtoEliza.“Ifthereisanythingatallyouneedassistancewith,pleasedonothesitatetowrite.”
Elizanodded.
“Goodday,LadySomerset,”hesaid,bowinghisheadoverherhand.
“LordSomerset,”shesaidinreturn.Therewassomethingdreadfullyironicabouttheirsharingthesamename,now.Fate’scrueljibeatwhattheymightoncehaveshared,hadEliza’smothernotbeensoeagertosecureatitleforherdaughter—andhadEliza’swillnotbeensoveryeasytobend.
AsSomersetraisedhisheadfromherhand,theirgazesmet.AndwhetherSomersethadloweredhisguard,nowthathewasabouttoleave,orwhetherhewassimplysurprisedbythesuddenproximityofherfacetohis,astheireyesmet,hisneutralmaskslipped.Hispoliteexpressionturnedabruptlyarrested,evenstricken,andhisglovedhandtightenedconvulsivelyuponhers.AndElizafelt,atlast,trulyseen.
Notjustlookedthrough,asifsheweresomeperipheralstranger,orlookedupon,asifshewereamildlyinconvenientduty,toberesolved,butseen:sheasElizaandheasOliver,twopeoplewhohadonceknowneachotherasdeeplyasitwaspossibletoknowsomeone.Andthoughthemomentcouldnothavelastedformorethantwoseconds—thelengthofthreequickenedheartbeats—itwasasifsomeonehadthrustahanddirectlyintoEliza’schestandsqueezed.
“Somerset!Dohurryup,oldthing!”
Andthenitbroke.Somersetdroppedherhandasifithadburnedhim.
“Farewell,MissBalfour,”hesaidhurriedly.“ThoughIwouldwishittobeunderhappiercircumstances,itwasgoodtoseeyouboth.”
Heranquicklydownthestepsandintothecarriage.
“AndIyou,”Elizawhisperedtotheemptyspacehehadleftbehind—asever,alittletoolate.
“Shallwegoinside?”Margaretsaidquietly,hereyeswatchfulonEliza’sface.Elizanodded.
Theyretreatedtothefirst-floorparlor.Itwastheleastgrandofalltherooms,itsdrapesmoth-eatenandbrocadedcarpetsfaded,butEliza’sfavorite,foruponthewallhungaseascapethathadbeenpaintedbyhergrandfather.Anartistofsuperiortalentandsomerenown,thepainting—ofatinyboatsailingthroughcold,unfathomableocean—hadbeenbroughttoHarefieldbythepreviouscountessanditwasadailycomforttoEliza.Anenduringreminderofthegoldenafternoonsshehadspentwithhergrandfather,learningtopaint,inthesimplerdaysofgirlhood,beforeherskirtshadbeenletdownandherhairputup,whenElizahadnaivelybelievedshemightfollowinhisartisticfootsteps.
“Wouldyoucareforapotoftea,mylady?”Perkinsaskedquietly.
“Oh,Ithinkweneedsomethingconsiderablystrongerthantea,”Margaretdeclared,asshewrenchedthelacecapfromherredhairandthesatinslippersfromherfeet.“Adropofbrandy,ifyouwill!”
NotbyaflickerofaneyebrowdidPerkinsbetrayanysurpriseatsuchanunladylikerequest,andhereturnedpromptlywithatraybearingthelateearl’sfinestcognac.
“Thankyou,”Elizasaid,ashepouredthemeachaladyliketipple.ShewouldmissPerkins,whensheleftforBalfour.
“Famous!”Margaretagreed,thoughassoonasPerkinsdepartedtheroom,shewasreachingforthecrystaldecanterandliberallytoppingupbothglasses.
ElizawouldmissMargaretmostofall.Thelastninemonths,trappedwithinHarefield’swallsforthestrictestperiodofhermourning,mighthavebeeninterminable,hadnotMargaretbeensenttoaccompanyher.Havinghercousin—herdearestfriend—atsuchcloseproximityaftersomanyyearsapart,hadbeenanunexpectedjoy,butnow…
“Arewetotoastourimminentreturntothelovingbosomsofourfamilies?”Elizaasked,acceptingaglass.
“Certainlynot,”Margaretsaid.“Ithinkitaterribleidea.”
“Iknow,”Elizasaid,forMargarethadmadethisopinionquiteplain.“ButIcannotremainhere,Margaret.Hewasperfectlycivil—butIthinkImighthavepreferredhostilitytosuchnothingness.”
Elizadidnothavetoclarifywho“he”was.
“Ithasbeentenyears,”Margaretsaid.“Surelyyoucannotstill…”
Elizasippedatherglass.Thebrandyburnedherthroatonthewaydown.
“Iknowitisfoolish,”Elizasaid.“ButwhenIsawhimagain…”
Sherememberedthejoltthathadrunthroughher,bodyandsoul,assoonashehadsteppedintotheroom.
“Imighthavebeenstruckbylightning,”shesaid,flushingtohearherselfspeaksuchahigh-flownsentimentaloud.
“Howuncomfortable,”Margaretobserved.“ItmakesmerathergladIhaveneverbeeninlove.Didhelookthesameasyouremembered?”
“Better,”Elizasaidmorosely.“Unnecessarilyhandsome,infact.Couldhenothavereturnedjustalittleugly?”
“Areyousureheishandsomeandnotsimplyverytall?”Margaretasked.“Ihaveoftennoticedthetwoareconfused.”
“Iamsure,”Elizasaid,takinganotherdraughtofthebrandy.
“TheDowerHouseisalittlewayfromHarefield,”Margaretsaid.“Youmighteasilyavoidhimfromthere.Couldyoutrulynotabidethat?”
Elizashookherhead.
“Tolingerontheoutskirtsofhislife,”shesaid.“AlwayswishingIweresharingitwithhim,whilehethrivesandmarriesandhaschildrenwithsomeoneelse?No,Icannot.”
Yetoncemore,assheconsideredthealternative—Balfourwithhermother—sheshuddered.
“Buttoreturntobeingbadgeredandbulliedbymyparents,”shesaid.“I—IthinkIwillsimplydisappear.Thereisnotenoughofmelefttoendureit.”
“Haveyoutrulybeensomiserable,thesepastyears?”Margaretsaidquietly.
Elizadidnotanswer.ShehadavoidedtellingMargaret,intheirweeklylettersandinfrequentvisits,detailsofhermarriage,notwantingtobethoughtdramaticorspoiled.And,truthfully,whilethelateearlhadnotbeenthehusbandshewouldhavechosen,norlifeasCountessofSomersetonesheenjoyed,theyearshadnotbeenwithouttheirpleasuresorjoys.Itwasjustthat,inalifespenttryingtopleaseamanwhosenaturalinclinationwastodisapprove,Elizahadhadtofindsmallpleasures,quietjoys.Untilshehadbeguntoworrythatsheherselfhadbecomesosmallandquietthatshemighteasilybetidiedawayintoacupboardwiththecrockery—andleftthereuntilshewasrequiredtoadornthetableoncemore.
“Thereisnopointworryingoverit,”Elizasaid,afterapause.“IshallreturntoBalfour.Ihavenootherchoice.”
Shefeltapathetic,forlornfigureandhopedMargaretmightsaysomethingappropriatelysoothing,perhapswhilestrokingherhair.
“Imustsay,Ithinkyouaremakingagreatcakeofyourself,”Margaretsaidacidly.
ThiswasnotatallwhatElizahadinmind.
“Excuseme?”
“HaveyouforgottenthatyouarenowoneoftherichestwomeninEngland?”MargaretsatupandflappedanaccusinghandatEliza,whowatcheditsprogresswithsomealarm—itwasstrayingdangerouslyclosetoaveryexpensiveMingvase.
“Ihavenotforgotten,”Elizasaid,“butIamnotsureitmakesadifference,Margaret.IamjustastrappedasIwasbefore.”
“Thenthefortuneiswastedonyou,ifyouaregoingtoactsodamnablydefeatist,”Margaretsaid,shakingherhead.
“Whereelsewouldyouhavemego?”Elizademanded.ShehadthoughtMargaretunderstood.
“Anywhere!”Margaretsnappedback.“Youcanmostcertainlyaffordtosetupyourownestablishment,now.Haveyouneverconsideredit?”
Intruth,Elizahadnot.Mrs.Balfourhadalwayssaidtheonlyunmarriedwomenwhosetuptheirownestablishmentswereeitherveryeccentric,veryelderlyorboth.Elizawasneither.
“Margaret,beserious.”
“Iamperfectlyserious,”Margaretsaid.
“WhatwouldIevendo?”Elizaasked.
“Oh,onlyanythingyouwant,Eliza!”Margaretsaid.“Haveyoureallybecomesodowntroddenthatyoudonotwantanythinganymore?”
ElizastaredatMargaret,shockedatthevenominhervoice.
“Notwantanything?”sherepeated.“Notwantanything?Margaret,Iwant…endlessly.”
“Isthatso?”Margaretasked,soundingsodubiousthatElizabegantolosehertemper.
“Itisso,”sheinsisted.“Iwanttoweargownsofmyownchoosing—Iamsickofbeingsuchadowd—andIwanttopaintalldayifIsochoose.AndIwanttospendmoneyasfrivolouslyasIlike!”
Elizacouldnotseemtostop,thewordsspillingoutofher.
“IwanttolightfiresinthedaytimeandtogowhereIplease,andmostofall—mostofall,Margaret—IwanttohavemarriedthemanIloved,nottheonedutyrequired.ButIdidnot.Andnothingcanchangethat,soyou’llforgivemeif,afteralifetimeofbeingdeniedeverysingleoneofmydesires,Iseemdefeatistnow.”
Elizagaveanangryswipeathereyes.Mrs.Balfourhadherwishfortearsatlast,butitwasfartoolateforthemtobeofanyuse.
“Well,”Margaretsaid,afterashortsilence,“youmaynotbeabletoachieveallofthat,butinyourownestablishment,youcouldcertainlytry—”
“Theywouldneverletme,”Elizainterrupted.“Iamawidowinmyfirstyearofmourning.Therules…”
“E-li-za,”Margaretsaid,drawingouteachsyllableinremonstration.“YouarenotmousylittleMissBalfour,anymore.Youareacountess.Youowntenthousandacresofland.Youarericherthanourwholefamilyputtogether.Isn’tnowthetimetobreaktherules?”
Again,ElizafoundherselfstaringatMargaret.Nothingshesaidwaswrong,exactly,butthewayshehadarrangedthefacts,tomakeitseemasifElizanowheldsomepower…Itdidnotfeeltrue.
“Thisisyourchancetofinallyhavealifeofyourown,”Margaretsaid.“Icannotbearyoutowasteit—oh,whatIwoulddoforsuchanopportunity!”
Margaretwasleaningforwardnow,herhandsclaspedtightlybeforeher,andElizawished,suddenly,thatthefortunecouldhavebeengiftedtoMargaret,nother.ForMargaret,braver,cleverer—andcertainlymoreoutspokenthanEliza—wouldsurelymakethemostofsuchachance.Shedeservedit,too.Deservedmorefromlifethanbeingshippedaroundthefamilytolookaftertheirvariouschildren,overlookedandunimportant—trapped,indeed—asthelastunmarriedsister.Itmightnotbesaidaloud,butElizaknewtheirfamilyconsideredMargaretirredeemable,ontheshelf:aspinster.Itwasnotfair.
TheinjusticeofitallbegantoburninEliza’schest,hotterthanthebrandy.“Obedientanddutiful,”herhusbandhadcalledherinhiswill.“Incapableofcausingaraisedeyebrow,”Somersethadannouncedtothewholeroom.Andthatishoweveryonehadalwaysseenher.Itwasthechiefreasonthelateearlhadwantedtomarryherinthefirstplace,perceivingEliza’stimiditytobeproofofhermalleability—andinalltheyearsoftheirmarriage,Elizahadneveroncegivenhimreasontodisbelievethis.ButperhapsMargaretwasright.Perhapsnowwasherchance.Perhapsnowwastheirchance.
“Icouldnotdosoalone,”Elizasaidslowly.“Tolivealonewouldbemostimproper.”
“Oh,societyispositivelyriddledwithspinstersandwidowsthatyoumightinvitetoactasyourcompanion,”Margaretsaid,dismissingthisatonce.“Anyrespectablefemalewouldaddtoyourconsequence—Iwouldcome,butLaviniaiswithchildagain.”
“Laviniaisashrew,”Elizapointedout.
“Butaveryfertileshrew,”Margaretsaid.“Assoonasthechildisborn,shewillrequireme,andmymotherwillinsistIgoand—andthatwillbetheendofthat.Youwillhavetodothiswithoutme.”
WithoutMargaret,Eliza’sresolvewouldcrumblewithinaweek.
“Whenisthechildexpected?”Elizaasked.
“Mid-April,allbeingwell,”Margaretsaid.ShelookedatElizacontemplatively.“Though…Laviniawillnotneedmeuntilthen.”
“IfIwrotetoyourmother,”Elizasaid,“beggedyourcompanyforthreemoremonths…?”
“Justuntilthebabycomes,”Margaretsaid,asmilebeginningtoformaroundherlips.“Threemoremonthsisnotsogreatarequest.”
Asilencelaybetweenthemforamoment.
“Wewouldhavetobevery,verycareful,”Elizasaid.
AveritablegrinnowspreadacrossMargaret’sface.
“Iamserious,Margaret,”Elizasaid.“IftheSelwynscatchawhiffofimpropriety,theywillstartcaterwaulingaboutthemoralityclause.WeneedtothinkofareasonwearenotgoingtoBalfour—oneeveryonewillaccept.”
“Whereshallwego?”Margaretasked.“London?”
“London…”Elizasaidwistfully.Elizahadbarelyvisitedthemetropolissinceherownfirst(andlast)Season.SheimaginedherselfandMargaretlivingthere,freeandindependenttotakeinasmuchartandasmanymuseumsastheyliked.InMay,itwouldbetheopeningoftheRoyalAcademy’sSummerExhibition,asightElizahadnotseensinceshewasseventeen…Butno.
“ItcannotbeLondonwhileIaminfullmourning,”Elizasaid.“Wewouldbeinimmediatedisgrace.”
“Anothertown,then,”Margaretsuggested.“Atown,withenoughentertainmenttooccupyus,evenifyoucannotattendanypublicoccasions.WhataboutBath?”
Bath.Elizaconsideredit.
“Yes,”shesaidatlast.“ForIbelievethereisentertainmenttobehadthereofaquietnatureandIcouldsayIhadbeenprescribedacourseofthewatersbythedoctor.Noonewouldknowitwasalie.”
“Iwillvisitthelibraries,andattendconcerts,andmeetinterestingnewpersons,”Margaretsaid,voicedreamy.
“Yes,indeed,”Elizasaid.“AndIwill…Iwill…”
Eliza’svoicefaltered,doubtcreptin.Inhermind’seye,allatonceappearedMrs.Balfour’sdisapprovingexpression,andElizawiltedundertheimaginedglare.Shewouldbesodisappointed.Herfather,too.Elizabitherlipandlookeduptohergrandfather’spainting,hanginguponthewall—thattiny,braveboatthatremainedafloatonlybyoverwhelmingeffort.Margaretmadeagentleencouragingnoise,asonemightsootheaspookedhorse,andElizatookadeep,deepbreath.
“WhileIwillbecome…aladyoffashion?”Elizasuggested.
“Yes,”Margaretsaidatonce.
“AndIwillpaint,”Elizawenton,firmernow.
“Alldayifyoushouldchooseit.”
“And—andIwillneveragainmarryforduty!”Elizasaid,throatverydryallofasudden.“That—thatisbehindme,now.”
Acrossfromher,Margaretsweptherglassupintotheair.
“NowthatisatoastIlike,”shesaid.“ToBath!”3
Inhersevenandtwentyyears,Elizahaddoneverylittletooffend,displeaseorevensurprisepolitesociety.Therewassomethingexceptionallythrilling,therefore,abouttheirescapefromHarefieldHall;althoughittooktwoweekstoplan,thougheachmemberoftheBalfourfamilyhadbeenwarnedbyletteroftheirdecision,andthoughtheyweretotravelinasedateSomersetcarriage,itstillfelttoElizaquiteasillicitasiftheywerehightailingtoGretnaGreenonamissionofelopement.
“Didyourmotherwriteagaintoday?”Margaretasked,astheyclimbedintothecarriage,Eliza’slady’smaid,Pardle,followingbehind.Asthejourneywasnotlong—undertwentymiles—andtheFebruarymorningsobright,ElizahadoptedtohavethebarouchedeliverthemtoBath,sotheymightenjoythewarmthofthesunshineupontheirfaces.TheirluggagehadgoneaheadoftheminthecompanyofPerkinsandtwohousemaids,whoweretheonlyothermembersofthehouseholdElizahadtakenwithher.HavingdeprivedHarefieldofitsbutler—whichsheshouldnothavedonehadPerkinsnotspecificallyrequestedit—shehadfelttooguiltytoclaimanymoreofthehall’sservantsthanthis.
“Therewillcertainlybealetterwaitingforuswhenwearrive,”Elizasaid.
Predictably,noneoftheBalfourclanhadbeenpleasedwiththeirdecision,butbolsteredbyMargaret’srallyingandthefictionalexcuseofadoctor’srecommendation,Elizahadremainedsteadfast.AndwhennoneofMrs.Balfour’sletters—rangingfromthescoldingtothepleading—hadproveneffectual,permissionforMargarettoaccompanyherhadbeengiven,howeverreluctantly,untilLavinia’schildemergedandMargaretwouldbefetchedaway.
“AndhaveyouhadanythingyetfromSomerset?”Margaretasked.
Elizadidnotreply,pretendingtoarrangeherskirtsaroundher.Withhotbricksattheirfeetandblanketsupontheirlaps,theywouldbecomfortableuntiltheypausedforrefreshment,butElizahadstillwornherwarmest—anddowdiest—dressforthejourney:anotherblackrobe,longinthesleeveandhighintheneck,withathickwoolencloakandanunwieldytravelingbonnetthatmadeitratherdifficulttoturnherhead.
“Youstillhavenotwrittentohim?”Margaretguessed.“Eliza!”
“Iwill!”Elizapromiseddefensively.Somerset’sapprovaloftheschemewas,ofcourse,ofequalimportanceasMrs.Balfour’s,foronlyhehadthepowertoremoveherfortune;andyet,thoughElizahadsatdowntopentheletteradozentimes,oneachinstanceshecouldnotwriteasingleword.Howwasonesupposedtowriteaformalnotetoagentlemanwithwhomonehadonceexchangedloveletters?
“Iwillwriteassoonaswearrive,”Elizavowed.
ShetookonefinallookbackatHarefield’sintimidatingsprawl.Shecouldremember,vividly,howalarmingithadappearedtoher,onthefirsttimeshehadarrived—seventeenyearsoldandtremblingwithnerves,worryingthatshemightbemurderedwithinit.ButshehadsurvivedandtodayshewasemergingnotasthetimorousMissBalfour,noradiffidentwife,butastheindependentLadySomerset.
“Letusgo,Tomley,”sheinstructedwithasmuchcommandasshecouldmusterandtheysetoffatabrisk,slightlylurchingpace.Eliza’susualdriverhadbeentakenill,andthemoreyouthfulTomleyhadamorecavalierwaywiththereins—Elizawincedalittleastheyjoltedoveradivotintheroad;itwasagoodthingneithershenorMargaretwerepronetotravelsickness.
“Whatareyoudesirousofdoingfirst?”ElizaaskedMargaretalittlewayintothejourney,assheopenedherportfolio.Itwasexpectedthatanyladyofqualityshouldcultivateaccomplishments,butundertheinfluenceofhergrandfather,arespectedmemberoftheRoyalAcademy,Elizahadreceivedanunusuallyadvancedartisticeducation—thoughithadnotequippedhertodrawinabarouchethatwasbumpingovereveryirregularityoftheroad.
“Ofcoursewewillbeseverelylimitedbyyourmourning—notthatIblameyou,ofcourse…”
“Yourunderstandingisappreciated,”Elizasaidabsently.OughtshetoadviseTomleytoslowdown?Thiswouldbethefirstsignificantjourneyshehadundertakenwithouteitherherfatherorherhusbandtomanageproceedings,andshewasnotsurehowinvolvedsheoughtmakeherself.Theroadhadtrulybecomeverynarrow—surelysuchspeedwasinadvisable?
“…butthatstillleavesagreatdealopentous.TheSydneyGardens,ofcourse,andthePumpRoom—Isay,Tomley,lookout!”
Therewasalargepotholeintheroadahead,justaheadofasharpturn.Tomleypulledthehorseswildlytotherightinordertoavoidthepitatpreciselythesamemomentapostchaisecamethunderingaroundthecorner.Thecollisionwasatoncefastandslow:Tomleywrenchedthehorsesaroundandtheotherdrivertrieddesperatelytopullhistoastop,butitwastoolate,contactwasinevitable.Theirwheelsscrapedsickeninglytogether,splintersofwoodflyingintotheairabove,andElizaandMargaretgraspeddesperatelyontoeachotherasthebarouchericochetedintheoppositedirection,andtheirseatcushions,blanketsandreticuleswentflyingoverthesides.
Thebaroucheteeteredonce,twice,andseemedonthepointofturningcompletely…beforeitatlastrighteditselfwitharesoundingcrash.Bothcarriagescame,atlast,toastandstill,andtherewassilence—saveforthecomicallypeacefulnoiseofbirdstwitteringinthetreesabove.
“Areyouallright?”Elizagasped.
“I—Ithinkso,”Margaretsaid,reachinguptoadjusthercrookedbonnet.
“Pardle?Tomley?”
“Yes,milady,”Pardlewhispered,clutchingthesidesofthebarouchewithwhiteknuckles.
“Myapologies,milady,myapologies,”Tomleybabbled,asheleaptfromthecarriagetoseetothehorses,whoweredreadfullyspooked,theireyesrollingandtheirmouthsfrothing.Acrosstheroad,theotherdriverwasdoingthesame.
Elizaranherhandsdownherarms,asif—nonsensically—tocheckallherlimbswereintact.Miraculously,bothsheandMargaretappeareduninjured,thoughMargaretwaspaleunderherfrecklesandElizafeltherselfbegintoshiverviolently.
Intothesilencecametheslowcreakofadoorbeingopened,andamansteppedoutoftheothercarriage.Hewastall,withdarkcurlinghairandabrowncomplexionand—unlikeElizaandMargaret’sdishevelment—theonlyevidenceofthecrashuponhispersonwastheangleofhishat,whichhadslippedfromrakishtoprecarious.Helookedaboutthescenewithanexpressionofmildastonishment,takinginfirsthisdriver,thenthebaroucheandthen,finally,MargaretandEliza.
“Doyoumeantorobme?”heasked,morecuriousthanalarmed.“Isthisastand-and-delivermoment?”
Elizastaredathim.Hadshehitherheadinallthecommotion?
“N-no,ofcoursenot!”shestammeredout.
“Doyoumeantomurderme?”heasked.
“Certainlynot!”Elizasaid.Whatonearth…?
“Thenwhatthedevildoyoumeanbyit?”thegentlemansaid,browsfurrowing.“Iwasinthemiddleofaverypeacefulnap,youknow.”
Elizagapedathim,speechless.Whoonearthwasthisman?HisskinsuggestedIndiandescent—unusualinsoruralasetting—andtheprivatechaisespoketoaffluence,soperhapshewasawealthymerchant,enroutetoanearbycity?Butamerchantwouldnotspeaktoherinsuchaway.
“Wedidnotintendto!”Margaretsaidindignantly.
“Hewasdrivingatashockingpace,milord!”Theman’sdriver,havingcalmedhishorses,wasnowjabbinganaccusatoryfingeratTomley.
“Sowereyou!”Tomleyretorted.
“Shallweagreethefaultwasshared?”Elizasuggestedhastily,beforetemperscouldriseanyfurther.
“Thatverdictfeelsatriflepremature,”thegentlemansaid,asmilebeginningtocurlhismouth,asifheweretemptedtofindthewholeincidentratheramusing.“Oughtthejurynotproperlyheartheevidencebeforewedeliberate?”
“Iamgladyouarefindingthissoentertaining,sir!”Margaretsaidtartly.
“AsamI,”themanagreed.“Asenseofhumortrulyisman’sgreatesttreasure.”
Elizareacheduptoadjustherbonnet,dazed.Thiswasnotatalltheserenejourneyshehadplanned,andifshehadthoughttearswouldhelpmatters,shemighthavebeguncryingalready.BynowtheyoughtalmosttohavereachedPeasedownandbelookingforwardtoarestorativerepast—notstrandedinthemiddleofnowhere,havingconversationswithastrangegentlemansounusualastoborderuponthelunatic.
“Tomley?”shesaid.“Areweabletocontinue?”
Thecoachmanshookhishead.
“Thespokesontheleftwheelarequitesnapped,”hesaid,examiningthemwithacriticaleye.“Butnottoworry,mylady,Peasedownisonlythreemilesaway.Ishalltakeoneofthehorsesandreturndirectlywithawheelwright!”
“Andleaveushere?”Margaretsaid.EvenifElizawerenotinwidow’sweeds,itwouldnotbeidealtobeleftstrandedandunprotectedonanopenroad—asitwas,itfeltdistinctlyimproper.Butwhatchoicedidtheyhave?Elizaraisedhereyestotheheavens.
Shewouldnotweep.Shewouldnotweep.Butwhywasittodaythatsuchadisasterhadtooccur,justwhenshehadresolvedtomakeanewstart?
“Farbeitformetoinsertmyself,”thegentleman’svoiceinterruptedherreverie.Hestill,infuriatingly,soundedalittleamused.“Butasmycarriageseemstobewhollyintact—indeed,mortifyinglyso—mayIofferyouladiestransportto,ah,PeaseburyorPeaseton,whereyoumightrestoutofthecold?”
Itwastempting,andevenasElizaconsidereditanothershiverranthroughher—asifherbodywasinagreementwithhim—butsheshookherheadinrefusal.
“Youarekindtooffer,sir,butIcannotaccept,”shesaid.
“Iamkindtooffer,”thegentlemanagreed.“AndIamafraid—andIbegyouwillnotthinkmeboorish—Imustinsist.Icannotleaveyouhereupontheroad.”
“Butyoumust,”Elizasaid.
“Icannot,”hesaid.“ItisagainstthegentlemanlycodeofhonortheymadeusallmemorizeatEton.‘Oneshaltnotleavedamselsontheroad,tobeeatenbybears.’?”
Elizawonderedvaguelyifshewasconcussed.
“TherearenowildbearsinEngland,”Margaretpointedout.
“YouwillhavetotakethatupwithEton,”thegentlemansaidgravely.
“Youareastrangertous,”Elizasaid.“Itwouldnotbeproper.”
“Why,thatiseasilyresolvedwithanintroduction,”thegentlemansaid,sweepingamagnificentbow.“IamMelville.”
Margaretgaveastart.Tomleymadeanaudiblechokingnoise.
Oh.Ofcourse.
TheMelvillefamilywasoneoftheoldestlinesinBritisharistocracy,andeachnewgenerationseemedtoeclipsethelastininfamy:theseventhearl,“MadJack,”wasfamedforfritteringafortuneawayatcards;theeighthearlforfirstrunningawayuponhiseighteenthbirthdayandthenforreturningadecadelaterwithanIndiannoblewomanforawife.Inkeepingwithfamilytradition,theninthandmostrecentLordMelville’sromanticentanglementsappearedalmostweeklyinthegossiprags,yetheandhissister,LadyCaroline,hadbecomejustasrenownedfortheirliteraryexploits:LadyCarolineforalooselyfictionalpoliticalnovelandMelvillefortheromanticversesthathadheldwomenthroughoutthetonspellbound.
ElizalookedMelvilleover,decidingthathewascertainlyashandsomeandaswell-formedassooftendescribed,thoughnot—asshehadalwaysimagined—carryingacutlass.Shecouldseenow,too,thatwhilehewasdressedcasuallyratherthanelegantly,theexquisitecutofhisridingcoat,theshineofhistopbootsandthehighcrownofhisbeaverhatallproclaimedthebeaumonde.Hereyestraveledbackuptohisface,atwhichpointsherealized,fromtheraiseofhiseyebrows,thatinhershockshehadmadenoattempttomaskherobviousperusalofhisperson.
“Well?”Melvillesaid,spreadinghisarmsasiftoencourageinspection.Elizaflushed.“Doyouacceptmybenevolentandgenerousoffer?”
“Mylady,ifImay—Idonotthinkitproper,”Tomleysaidinhissingundertones.Pardlegaveaferventnodofagreement.
Elizahesitated,atanutterloss.Ontheonehand,associationwithsuchanotoriousflirt—onemightevensayrake—wascertainlyundesirable.Ontheother,theycouldnotverywelllingerhereonapublicroad,inthecold,forthehoursitmighttakeTomleytoreturn.ShelookedovertoMargaret,whogaveatiny,helplessshrug.ItwasuptoElizatodecide,then.
“Hislatelordshipwouldnotwant—”Tomleypressed,whichclarifiedmatters.
“Hislatelordshipisnothere,however,”Elizasaid.“Itismydecision,and…andIwouldnotliketotarryanylonger.Tomley,ifyouwouldhelpusalightfromthecarriageyoumayfollowwiththehorsesandprocurethewheelwright’sservices.”
“Allowme…”TheearlofferedElizahishandand,inatrice,boththeladiesandPardlewerehandedintothechaisewhichwasblissfullycomfortable,andafterabriefpauseMelvillefollowed,handingElizahermud-splatteredportfoliobeforesettlinghimselfintheseatopposite.
Thecarriagedrewoff.Therewassilence,asElizaandMargaretstaredatMelville.Elizacudgeledhermindforsomethingofinteresttosaybutdrewanutterblank.
Fortunately,Melvilleseemedmorethanabletocarrytheconversation.
“Whereareyouladiestravelingtoday?”heaskedpolitely.
“Bath,”Margaretsupplied.“Weareremovingtherefortheremainderofmycousin’smourning.”
“Oh,ofcourse—Ioughttoexpressmysympathies,”Melvillesaid.
Elizawasnotyetsurehowtorespondtosuchcondolences.Tomakeaparadeofloss,whenhergriefsodifferedfromsociety’sexpectation,feltcrass—andyettomakenodisplayatallwouldbeconsideredunseemly.
“Thankyou,”Elizasaidafterapause.“Andwhereareyoubound,mylord?”
“Oh,hitherandthither,”hesaid.“Today,ofcourse,ithasbeenmorethitherthanIshouldlike—youareanartist,then,mylady?”
Elizadidnotimmediatelycomprehendthechangeinsubject,untilshefollowedthedirectionofhisgazetoherportfolio.
“Ishouldnotdescribemyselfinsuchloftyterms,”shesaid.
“Whyevernot?”hesaid.“Youclearlyhavetalent.”
“Howeverdoyousupposethat?”Elizaasked,surprised.
“Thebookwasopen,”Melvillesaid.“Icouldnothelpbutsee.Youcapturethelikenessof…?”
Hepaused,aquestioningliltinhisvoice,andElizarealizedwithajoltofmortificationthattheyhadnotintroducedthemselves.
“Myapologies!”shesaid,hercheeksreddening.“IamLadySomerset,andthisismycousin,MissBalfour.”
Melvilleinclinedhishead.
“YoucaptureMissBalfour’slikenessverywell,”hesaid.
Elizadidnotknowwhattosaytothis,sooptedinsteadtochangethesubject.
“Weadmireyourpoetryverymuch,mylord,”shesaid.
Itmustbethethousandthtimehehadbeentoldsuchathing,butElizawasnotliteraryenoughtothinkupamoreinsightfulcompliment.
“Howmarvelousofyoutosayso,”Melvillesaidcourteously.
“Wearemostimpatienttoreadyournewwork,”Margaretadded,acajolingnoteinhervoice.“Doyouknowwhen…?”
MelvillehadpublishedPersephonein’17andPsychein’18—bothromanticretellingsofancienttexts—andallwereontenterhooksforhisnextpublication.
“Itappearsyourflatterywassimplyaploytoincitemeintoarevelation,”Melvillesaid.“Iamafraidmyanswerwillnotpleaseyou:Ihavenotwrittenanythingnew.”
“Whynot?”Elizaaskedbeforeshecouldpreventherself—animpertinencesheimmediatelyregretted,forMelville’sbrowwasnowraised.
“Inspirationeludesme,”hesaidbriefly.
“Perhapsyoumightbeinspiredbytoday’sadventure,”Margaretsuggestedslyly.“Andwewillfindthatyournextvolumebeginswithacarriagecrash—orachariotcrash,Isuppose.”
ElizashotMargaretaremonstrativelook.CouldshenotseethatMelvillewishedtheconversationatanend?ButMelvilleappearedmorecomfortablewithMargaret’slineofquestioningthanEliza’s.
“Oh,evenachariotcrashshouldbetoopedestrianformyheroines,”hesaid,amused.“Perhapsafterthechariotcrashtheymightberescuedfromamurderousmobbyanerstwhilewarrior?Ifmyfairladywillforgivetheartisticlicense?”
HelookedtowardEliza,lipscurledandeyebrowsraisedinplayfulinquiry.Elizastared.Washeflirtingwithher?Surelynot.Regardless,heseemedtoexpectareply,waitingexpectantlyasifhethoughtElizaabouttopullasuitablyamusing,orcoy—oreveninteresting—remarkoutofthinair,butalas…
“Iamnotfair,”shesaid.
“Soyouarenot,”Melvilleagreed.“Thoughyouwillforgivemefornotbeingabletotell,undersuch—ah—magnificentheadwear.”
HegesturedtowardEliza’shat.Beneathit,sheflushed,feelingdowdierthanever.
Athumpontheroofofthecarriagehadthemalllookingup.
“ItappearswearedrawingintoPeaseton,”Melvillesaid.
“Youhaveourthanksfortheaid,”Elizasaid,inaconcludingsortofway.
“Oh,youshan’tberidofmesoeasily,mylady,”Melvillesaid.“Ishallescortyouinsidetoseeyousettled,whileyourmanseesaboutthiswheelwright.”
TheydrewtoafinalstopandMelvillemadeasiftoleapout.
“No,no,”Elizasaidhastily,forasmuchasshetrulyhadappreciatedtherescue,shestilldidnotthinkitwisethattheybeglimpsedbythewholevillageinthecompanyofanunmarriedman—andcertainlynotonewithsuchastoriedreputation.
“No,weshallnotdelayyouanylonger.Weareperfectlycapableofarrangingmattersourselves,”shesaid.
MelvillelookedconsideringlyatElizaforamoment.
“Verywell,”hesaid,leaningbackinhisseat.“Ifthatiswhatyouwouldprefer.”
Margaretopenedthedoor,andapostboysprangforwardtoassistthemdown.
“Ihope,”Elizaadded,asMargaretandPardleclimbeddownfromthecarriage,“Ihopewemaycountuponyour…discretionregardingtoday’sevents.”
Melville’seyebrowsflewupwardagain.
“Doyouthinkmelikelytogossip?”heaskedgentlyandElizafeltabruptlysureshehadoffendedhim,now.
“N-no—itisjustthat,”Elizastammered.
“Iassureyou,mylady,”hesaid.“IfIamtoappearinthegossipragsthisweek,itshallnotbeforsodullareasonasthis.”
Eliza’sfaceflushedattheedgeinhistoneandshehurriedlyacceptedthepostboy’sarm.Melvillepulledthedoorshutbehindher.
“Goodday,”hesaidoutofthewindow.“Andsafetravels.”
Hisdriversetthehorsesoff,beforeElizacouldrespond.
“Goodness,”shesaid,feelingstunned.
“IshallwritetomysisterassoonaswearriveinBath,”Margaretsaid,gleeful.“AndyououghttowritetoLadySelwyn—doesn’tshefancyherselfapatronofthearts?Shewillbepositivelygreenwithjealously.”
“IwillcertainlynotbewritingtoLadySelwyn!”Elizaexclaimed,comingbacktoherselfandturningtowardtheinn.“Weoughtnottellanyone.Recollecttheconditionsofmyfortune,Margaret,andhisshockingcharacter:myreputationisnotacurrencywecanaffordtospend.”
“Whatisthepointofexcitingeventsoccurringtoone,ifonecannotboastaboutit?”Margaretgrumbled.
???
Awarmingfire,anexcellentrepastandthenewsthatthecarriagewouldberepairedinonlyamatterofhoursdidmuchtoalleviateEliza’sunsettlednerves,andtheyarrivedinBathonlyafewhoursdelayed.Asitwasbythispointdusk,theycouldnotseemuchofthecityastheydrewthroughitsstreets,butasElizawalkedintotheterracedhouseonCamdenPlace,theirnewhome,shewasovercomebyrelief.PerkinshadselectedlodgingsthatweresoexactlysuitedtoEliza’stastesthatshecouldalmostbelievetheyhadbeenbuiltandfurnishedexactlyforheruse:withadiningroom,drawingroom,parlor,threebedchambersandservantsquarterssetacrossfourfloors,thehousewascomfortablyelegant,lightandairy,andasfarfromtheausteregrandeurofHarefieldaswaspossible
“Everythingisquiteperfect,Perkins,”shesaid,inhalingthedelicatefumesofaperfectlybrewedcupoftea.Perkins,neveroneforgrandiosedisplaysofemotion,inclinedhishead.
“Willtherebeanythingelse?”heasked.
“No,thankyou,”Elizasaid.Then,impulsively,sheadded,“Except—couldthefiresbelit?Allofthem?”
Elizahadhadenoughofthecold.4
ThetonnolongerconsideredBathquiteasmodisharesortasithadthecenturyprior,andinrecentyearsthecityhadbecomepatronizedmorebytheelderly,theunwellandtheshabbygenteelthanthewealthyandthefashionable.ToEliza,however,itwasquitethemostsplendidcityshehadeverseen.Thewholetownseemedtohavebeendesignedwitheleganceinmind:itsgrandamphitheatriccrescentsandbeautifullyspacioussquareswereallconstructedinthesamepalestonethat,onabrightday,refreshedtheeyewithitsshine.SurroundedbytheloftyhillsoftheClaverton,thecountrysidewascloseenoughthattheairremainedsweet,whilethetownitselfwasgenerouslyendowedwithgardens,shops,libraries,andtwoimpressiveAssemblyRooms.Itwasacitythatpresented,inshort,abreathtakingarrayofpossibilityfortwowomenwhowere,fortheveryfirstmomentintheirlives,whollyinchargeoftheirowntime.
TheyeasedtheirwayquietlyintoBathsocietythatfirstweek,andwhileElizawrotebothherandMargaret’snameinthesubscriptionbooksoftheLowerandtheNewAssemblyRooms,itwasmoreoutofcourtesytotheMastersofCeremoniesthanoutofanyrealintentionofavailingthemselvesgreatlyoftheirentertainments.WithElizaalmosttenmonthsintohermourning,thestrictestdaysofherseclusion—whenshehadtoavoidallpublicsocietyinitsentirety—werealreadybehindher,buttheCountessofSomerset’sarrivalintotowninfullwidow’sregaliawasstillunusualenoughtoattractattention.Withsomanyeyesuponher,sheneededtoremainabovecensure:ElizacouldvisitthePumpRoom,perusetheshopsofMilsomStreet,quietlyattendaconcertortwoandevenhostafew,veryselect,dinners—butuntilayearandadayhadpassedsincetheearl’sdeathshecouldnotattendlargeparties,orassemblies,nordisplayherselfintoopublicasetting.Dancing,ofcourse,wasstrictlyforbiddenforanotherwholesixmonthsafterthat.Mourning,foraladyofthefirstconsideration,wasaseriousbusiness.
Withproprietyattheforefrontoftheirminds,therefore,ElizaandMargaretwereconsciousofconveying,asmuchasthereserveofgoodmannersallowed,bothEliza’ssorrowandfrailtyontheirfirstexcursionsintoBathsociety.Inthisquest,Margaret’squickmindandsilvertongueprovedindispensable,forwhiledeceptionthrewElizaintoquagmiresofuncertainty,Margarethadnoissueembellishingthetruthbeyondrecognition.
“Theshockhasrenderedherweak,”MargaretsaidinahushedundertonetoLadyHurley,Bath’smostglamorousdowager,ontheirfirstvisittothePumpRoom,whileEliza—heavilyveiled—chokeddownaglassfulofBath’sfamouslyhealing(andfoul-tasting)mineralwaters.
“Thedoctorsuggestedanacutefluralgia,”sheexplainedtobothMastersofCeremonieswhentheyhadeachpaidacallofceremonytowelcometheladiestoBath.
“Whatisfluralgia?”ElizaaskedMargaret,oncetheywerealone.
“Ihaven’tthefaintestidea,”Margaretsaidcheerfully.“Butitsoundedgood,diditnot?”
BythetimeMr.Walcot,theSomersetlawyer,paidthemavisitonthethirdday,MargarethadbecomesoadeptatexplicatingEliza’semotionalandphysicaldelicacy,thathelookedquiteabouttothinkElizaondeath’sdoorstep.
“Areyouquitesureyouarewellenough,mylady,tomanageyourownaffairs?”heasked,facealarmed.“Ihadthoughtyourfather…”
“Oh,Iamfeelingmuchimprovedalready,”Elizahastenedtosay.Mr.Balfourwouldundoubtedlybebetterpositionedtooverseeherlands,forhehadalltheexperienceandknowledgethatshelacked,but…ButitwasthefirsttimethatElizahadevertrulyownedpropertybyherselfandshefoundthatshedidnotwanttogiveitawayinanycapacityjustyet.“Ifyouwillbesokindastorecommendmealandsteward,andassistmewithafewquestions…?”
Shetrailedoff,flushing.
“IamalreadyservingthenewLordSomersetinmuchthesamemanner,”Mr.Walcotsaidreluctantly.“Andtherewillbeagreatdealtolearn,mylady.Areyousureyoufeelequaltosuchatask?”
ElizagaveMr.Walcotastrainedsmile.
“Ibelieveso,”shesaid,tryingtosoundfirm.
“Ifyouaresure…”Mr.Walcotappearedunconvinced.“Thenewearlwouldbeasafepairofhandstocountupon,ifyoueverfindyourselfworried,andIdowonderthathedidnotmentionyourarrivalinhislastletter,”Mr.Walcotmused.“Ishouldhavecalledmuchsooner,hadIknown—butI’msurehislordshiphadhisreasons!”
Thatwascertainlytrue,chiefamongthembeingthatElizahadstillnotwrittentohim;heravoidanceofthetaskwasapproachingthechronic.
“Itispossiblethatmyletterhadnotyetreachedhim,”shelied.“Ourvisitwasonlyrecentlydecidedupon…”
“Duetothefluralgia,”Margaretputinhelpfully.Mr.Walcot’sworriedfrownreappeared,andthroughouttherestofthevisitElizawasatpainstoconveytheprecisebalanceof“capablebutgrief-stricken”thatwouldmosteffectivelyreassurehim.
Underthecloakofgrief,ElizaandMargaret’sfirstdaysinBathwerefull,expensive,andthrilling.TheymadeacompleteexplorationofalltheMilsomStreetshops:sampledscentsattheparfumerie;feastedtheireyesonthediamondsinBasnettthejeweler’sandlingeredovertheshelvesofMeyler’slibrary.Here,theyoverheardagaggleoftwitteringyoungladiesbeggingtheharassedattendantforLordMelville’snextvolumeofpoetry.
“Ireadinthepaperthatitoughttohavebeenpublishedbynow!”oneladydeclaredinthefaceoftheattendant’sdenial.
“Whatwouldtheysayiftheyknewwehadactuallymethim?”MargaretwhisperedinEliza’sear.
“Don’t!”ElizasaidfirmlyandMargaretrolledhereyes.
AfewdoorsdownwasMr.Fasana’sRepositoryofArts,whoseshelveswerefulltothebrimofbeautifulmaterials—easels,palettes,paintbrushesfromthewidthofapintoabranchandboxesofwatercolorsinshadesElizacouldnotname—andwhoseshopassistantsweresoknowledgeablethatElizabecamealittleoverwhelmed.Shewantedtopurchasehalfoftheshop,butasthiswouldcertainlyraiseeyebrows,shesettledmerelyuponanarrayofpencils,aboxofwatercolorsandavolumeentitledTheArtofPaintingthatshecouldrememberhergrandfatherowning.
“Doyou…doyoumixoilshere,too?”sheaskedshylyatthecounter.Hergrandfatherhadmixedhisowncolors—alaboriousprocessthatinvolvedgrindingthenaturalpigmentsandcombiningthemwithvariousmediatoachievethedesiredconsistency—butoilscouldbeboughtdirectlyfrommerchants,orcolormen,too.
Mr.Fasana,whohadbeenrousedfromthebackroomtoservetheloftycustomer,appearedsurprisedattherequest.Itwascommonforaladytopartakeinwatercolors,butoilswereamediumrarelyusedbyamateurs,duetothemesstheyincurredandtheskillnecessarytousethemcorrectly.“Icancertainlydoso,thoughmayIsuggestthatasetofpastelsmightservebetterforherladyship’suse?”
“Oh…yes,”Elizasaid,wiltingunderMr.Fasana’sdisbelief,andthecuriouseyesoftheotherpatrons.And,really,wouldnotpastelsdojustaswell?“Yes,thankyou.”
Lastwastheirtriptothemodiste.ElizaandMargaretwerebothwellusedtovisitingmilliners:displayingoneselfinanarrayofever-changinggownswasakeytenetofanyladyofquality’slife.Untilnow,however,theirwardrobeshadbeenruledbythepreferencesofothers:Eliza’sbyherhusband’s,whofavoredtheold-fashionedstyleofgownsbelongingtohisgeneration,andMargaret’sbyhermother’s,whobelievedthatover-trimmedgownsininfantilepastelswouldgiftMargareteternalyouth.
“Ihaveresembledatrussed-up,over-puffedpieforyears,”Margaretsaidloudly,enteringMadamePrevette’sshop,andsuchwasthestateoftheirtoilettethatMadamePrevettecluckedhertongueinagreement.Intheblinkofaneye,shehadElizaandMargaretstandingupondressingplatformsinthebackroom,presentingfashionplatesbeforethemwhileherassistantsflurriedaroundthemwithyardsofsilk,crêpeandbombazineineverycolorimaginable,asifElizaandMargaretwerethecenterofaparticularlyfashionablehurricane.
Theyrantheirhandsoverlace,muslin,cotton,gauze,and,underMadamePrevette’sbeady,discerningeye,chosedressesforeveryoccasionimaginable.Eliza,ofcourse,mustdressonlyinblackuntilApril,buttoMadamePrevette—whohadfirstfledtoEnglandinthewakeoftherevolution—thiswasthemosttriflingofchallengesandmuchinsteadwasmadeofthestyleandcutofeachgown:figuredandembroideredandflouncedtoaddinterestwherecolorwouldnormallyserve.Margaret,onlydistantlyrelatedtotheearlthroughmarriage,waslongoutofhermourningclothes,andsowasmeasuredformorningdressesinblueandgreen,eveningdressesofdeepestpurpleandwalkinghabitsinsevere,militaryshapes—allwithhatsandshawlsandglovestomatch.
“Icanhavethefirstdressesreadyinaweek,”MadamePrevettepromisedEliza,whentheyhadfinallydeclaredthemselvesfinished,whichwasgenerouslyquickindeedandElizabeamedherthanks.LookingaroundforMargaret,shesawherstrokingahandavariciouslyoverathicksable.
“Wouldyoulikeit?”Elizaasked.Thebillwasalreadylongandlarge.
“Itisverydear,”Margaretsaid,whichwasnotadenial.Elizacheckedthepriceandfelthereyebrowsriseoftheirownaccord.Anindecentexpense,herhusbandwouldhavesaid.Buthewasn’there.AnditwasforElizatodecide,now,whatexpenseswereworthwhile.
“We’llhavetwo,”Elizasaid.
“Theydosaymoneycannotbuyhappiness,”Margaretsaid,unabletohideherwide,delightedgrinastheyleft,theirnewfootmanfollowingbehind,ladenwithboxes.
“AtheoryImeantotest,”Elizapromised.
Truetoherword,MadamePrevettesentoverthefirstboxofdresseswithinaweek,andso,bythesecondWednesdayaftertheirarrival,ElizaandMargaretwerefinallyreadyfortheirfirstoutingtoaconcertattheNewAssemblyRooms—whichtheydeemedperfectlyproperaslongasElizaarrivedunobtrusively,satquietlyduringtheinterval,andleftimmediatelyafterward.Truthfully,evenifithadnotbeenperfectlyproper,onceElizahadcaughtsightofherandMargaret’sreflectionsintheirneweveninggownsshewouldhavebeentemptedtoattendanyway.
Rationally,ofcourse,Elizaknewthattheapplicationofanewgown,howevermodish,couldnothavealteredherappearancesoradically.Andyet…Seeingherselfintherobeofblackcrêpe,ornamentedwithblackvelvettrimmingatthehems,Elizafeltherselftransformed:nolongeradowdydowagerhiddeninasuperabundanceofblackbombazine,butsomeoneratherelegant.Underthegown’seffects,shecouldnoticetoothatherfacehadbecomelessgauntoverthepastweeks,herhairthicker,thatthedarkcirclesunderhereyeshadfadedinprominencetonowappearmorepiquantthanfrightened.Insomeindescribablewayitwasasifherwholebeingwastakingitscuefromthesuperiorgown,standingtaller,straighterandlightingupinawayshehadnotinyears.
Itmightbearidiculouspowertoaffordgownsandhairandribbons,butwatchingMargaret,whoElizahadneverknowntoexpressevenapassingsatisfactioninherappearance,staringatherselfinthemirror,eyeswideandvulnerableandsotentativelypleasedwithherreflectionthatElizathoughtherheartmightbreakwithtenderness,itdidnotfeelridiculous.Thesea-greencrêpegown,short-sleeved,wornlowontheshoulders,andtrimmedonlywithasimpleribbonaroundthebodice,contrastedbrilliantlyagainstMargaret’sredhairandpale,freckledskin,andbecamehertallfiguretoadmiration.
“Italmostfeelstoogoodtobetrue,”Elizasaid,withasweepofherarmthatshemeanttoencompassthedresses,thehouse,andtheentiretyoftheirnewlifestyle.“Doyoufeelthatway,too?”
Margaretsnorted,herreveriewiththemirrorbroken.
“PerhapsImight,ifitwerenotfortheconstantlettersfromourmothers,”shesaid.“OrifitwerenotfortheWinkworths.”
TheWinkworthsweretheirneighborsuponCamdenPlace:Mrs.Winkworth,arelentlesssocialclimber,herhusband,AdmiralWinkworth,asurlygentlemanwithnodiscerniblequalities,andtheirdaughter,MissWinkworth,themostsilentyoungladyElizahadeverencountered.Margarethadtakenanimmediateandviolentdisliketothemall.
“Mrs.WinkworthisoneoftheleadersofBathsociety,weoughttomakealittleeffortwithher,”ElizaremindedMargaret.
“Iabhoreffort,”Margaretsaiddarkly.
Wrappedinthickcloaks,theysetoutwithonlyStavesthefootmanasescort.ThehillsofBathmadeequestriantrafficdifficultandthereforerare,butsincemostdestinationswereeasilyaccessibleonfootthiscausednoissueunlessthedaywaswet,inwhichcaseonecouldprocureasedanchairorhackneycab.TheNewAssemblyRooms,situatedintherecentlybuiltuppertown,wereaverygrandsetofbuildings,boastingahundred-foot-longballroom,concertroomandcardroom,allfurnishedextravagantlyandlitwithcrystalchandeliershangingfromtheloftyceilings.Elizagazedaboutwithinterestastheyentered,forshehadheardthatportraitsbyGainsboroughandHoarehungonthewalls,buttheyhadonlytakenastepinsidewhentheyfoundthemselveshailedandturnedtofindthewholeWinkworthfamilybearingdownuponthem.Theywerealldistinctlyovineinappearance:Mrs.Winkworthahandsomesheep,MissWinkworthadelicatelamb,andAdmiralWinkworthagoatwithoutanyofthecharisma.
“Goodevening,Mrs.Winkworth,”Elizasaid,hidingherdismayunderenthusiasm
“Yououghttohavesaidyouwereattendingtonight’sperformance!”Mrs.Winkworthchided.“Wewouldhaveescortedyou!”
PreciselywhyElizahadnotmentionedit.
“Myapologies,”Elizasaid.
“Come,youmustjoinourparty—wearegatheringintheOctagonRoom,”Mrs.Winkworthsaid,beckoningthem.MargaretsteppedmeaningfullyonEliza’sfoot.
“Actually,Ithinkweoughttosit…”Elizatried.ItmightnotbewisetoalienateMrs.Winkworth,butneitherwouldhersetbeEliza’sfirstchoiceoffriendsinBath.
“Iwasverymuchhopingtomakesomeintroductions,”Mrs.Winkworthsaid,asteelinessinherhoneyedtonesthatsostronglyremindedElizaofMrs.BalfourthatsheimmediatelycapitulatedandfollowedherintotheOctagonRoomwheretheywereengulfedbythehumofmanyvoices,therustleofmanyskirts,andthesparkleofmanyjewels.Elizasuckedinadeep,steadyingbreath.OnewouldhavethoughthertenureasCountessofSomerset,withallthehuntingpartieshostedatHarefieldHall,wouldhaveinuredhertosuchnerves,butshehadfeltsovastlyoutofherdepthamongstallthehigh-rankingpeerstheoldearlhadcountedasfriends,thattheexperiencehaddetractedratherthanaddedtohersocialconfidence.
“LadySomerset,MissBalfour,mayIintroducetoyousomeofmydearestfriends…?”
AsMrs.Winkworthmadetheintroductionsaroundthegroup—eachcurtseyingorbowingdeeplytoElizainturn—sheskillfullycontrived,withoutexactlylying,togivetheimpressionthatsheandElizawerefarbetteracquaintedthantheytrulywere,perhapsdesirousofusingtheborrowedgloryofEliza’stitletoboostherownsocialstanding.Eliza,meanwhile,couldonlytrytoremembereachname—Mr.Broadwaterwiththespectacles,Mrs.Michelswiththeenormousturban—andconcentrateonnottwistingherhandsinnervousness.
“AndthisisMr.Berwick,ourcelebratedartist…”
Elizaswunghereyesovertothisgentleman,interestunfeigned.
“Oh,Mrs.Winkworth,youshouldnotflattermeso,”hesaid,withunconvincinghumilityandabowtoEliza.“YouarealmostworsethanMr.BenjaminWest—thePresidentoftheRoyalAcademy,youknow,LadySomerset—hesingsmypraisesateveryopportunity,tomymortification.”
UnderMr.Berwick’sbumptiousspeech,Eliza’sinterestwilted.
“MayIexpressmyverygreatsorrowforyourloss,mylady,”Mr.Berwickwenton.“Thoughweartistsarealltrueempaths,Istillcannotimaginehowyouarefeeling.”
Elizacertainlyhopednot.
“Ithasbeenaverytryingtime,”shelied.
Thereweremurmursofsympathyaroundthegroup.
“Ifalittledistractionwouldbebeneficial,”Mr.Berwicksaid.“Iwouldbehonoredtohaveyousitforaportrait.MadameCatalaniissittingformeatthemoment,butyourswouldbeanevenhigherprivilege.Ahauntingelegytoawidow’sgrief…”
Hegazedintothedistanceasiftoimagineit.
“Ihardlythinkthatwouldbeproper,Mr.Berwick—”Mrs.Winkworthbegancrossly.
“DarlingLadySomerset,MissBalfour,youbothlookdivine!”LadyHurleyarrivedjustintimetointerruptMrs.Winkworthmid-flow.ShesqueezedEliza’sarminwelcome,anintimacythatshe,beingaladyherself,feltcomfortableindulginginthoughtheyhadonlymetthrice,whileMrs.Winkworthlookedonjealously.
“Yourearringsareveryfine,”Margaretsaid.LadyHurley—dressedtodayinagownofrubyvelvet,superblyornamentedwithsilvertrimming—wasahandsomedowagerofindiscriminateage,livelyhumorandtrulymagnificentbosom.
“Oh,theseoldthings?Agiftfrommylatehusband,”LadyHurleydismissedthenutmeg-sizeddiamondswithagracefulwaveofherhand.“Imustsay,itissolovelytoseetheroomsfilledoutatlast.”
“Splendid!”Mr.Fletcheragreedheartily.LadyHurley’sjuniorinagebyatleasttenyears,thehandsomeMr.Fletcherwasnonethelessherloyalgallant,escortinghereverywherewithutterdevotion.
“Bathwasalmostatriskoffeelingalittleflat,doyounotthink?”LadyHurleysaidtonooneinparticular.
“Icannotagree,”Mrs.Winkworthsaidsharply.“AsCamdenPlaceisfullyear-round,weneverfeeldeprivedofcompany.ThoughIimagineitmightfeelalittleflatonLauraPlace,LadyHurley.Hasnumberfourbeenletyet?Itmusthavebeenayearsinceitslastresidents.”
Eveninthefortnightsincetheirarrival,Elizahadwitnessedadozensuchunsubtlejibes—LadyHurley’slatehusbandhadpickeduphistitleinthecity,andMrs.Winkworth’sdisdainofsuchcommercialrootswaswell-known,butLadyHurleyonlysmiled.
“Youwillbepleased,then,tohearnumberfourhasindeedbeenrentedjustthisweek,”shesaid.“DoyouknowLordMelville?Heandhissister,LadyCaroline,haverentedthehouseforthreemonths.”
Mrs.Winkworthlookedasthoughanartichokehadbeenthrustunexpectedlydownherthroat,Mrs.Michels’seyesexpanded,andMr.Broadwatermadeashockedharrumph.ElizaandMargaretexchangeddisbelievingglances.SincetheirarrivalinBath,theirdayshadbeensofullthattheyhadnothadtimetoconsiderMelvilleagreatdealand,astheirbruiseshadlongfaded,thecrashupontheBathRoadhadassumedthequalityofadream.MelvilleturningupinBath,ofallplaces,seemedhighlyunlikely,andfromthequestionsbeingpeltedatLadyHurley,theywerenotaloneinthissurprise.
“Isitreallytrue,LadyHurley?”
“Threewholemonths?”
“Isheascharmingastheysay?”
“Oh,youknowIamfartoodiscreettoindulgeinspeculation,”LadyHurleysaid,oozingself-satisfaction.“Thoughyoumayaskthemyourselves,forIinvitedthemtojoinus,tonight—ah,heretheyarenow!”5
LadyHurleycouldnothavedesignedamoreperfectlydramaticmoment.Asone,theyalllookedtothedoorwayjustastheMelvillesappearedwithinit:LordMelville,dressedtonightinalong-tailedcoat,kneebreechesandsilkstockings,andbesidehimhissister,standingalmostastallasheandexquisitelygownedinagossamersatindressofacelestialbluethatshonebeautifullyagainstherbrownskin.LadyHurleybeckonedtothemwithoneheavilybejeweledhand,andastheywalkedlanguorouslyover,moreheadsbegantoturnandcraneintheirdirection.Fromtheexcitedmurmursandwhispersthatbeganfillingtheroom,theyhadbeenrecognized.
“Oh.My.Goodness,”MargaretbreathedfrombesideEliza,speakingeachwordasifitwereaseparatesentence.
“Goodevening,mylord,mylady,”LadyHurleysaidinloud,smugwelcome.“Iamsopleasedyouhavecome!”
“Itisourpleasure,”LadyCarolinesaid,inalowandmusicalvoice.“IbecameacquaintedwithMadameCatalaniinRomelastyear—Iamlookingforwardtohearingherperformagain.”
ThetripartitepowerofLadyCaroline’sliteraryreputation,heralluringairoffashion,andthereferencetoEuropeantravelprovedimmediatelyirresistibletoMargaret,whoopenedhermoutheagerly,andsteppedalittleforwardasiftoimmediatelyengageLadyCarolineinconversation—untilElizalaidacautionaryhanduponherarm.Theyhadnotyetbeenformallyintroduced.
“MayIintroduceyoutomyverydearfriend,LadySomerset?”LadyHurleysaid,andElizaforcedherselftoremaincalm.Melvillewouldsurelyrecollectherrequestforhisdiscretionattheirlastmeeting—butasheturnedandtheireyesmet,Elizagavehimalookofgreatmeaningjustincase.Melvilleraisedhiseyebrows,afaintsmileathislips
“LadySomerset,”hesaid.“Wemeetagain.”
Oh,lord.
“Youarealreadyacquainted?”LadyHurleyaskedimmediately.“Howso?LadySomerset,IdidnotthinkyouhadvisitedLondoninmanyyears.”
“Wouldyouliketotellthetale,orshallI?”Melvilleasked,aglintofmischiefinhiseyes.Eliza’sheartbegantogallop.“Itismostamusing.”
“Wemetverybrieflymanyyearsago,ata—aball,”Elizablurtedout,beforeMelvillecouldutteranotherword.
“Thatdoesnotsoundveryamusing,”LadyCarolinesaid.
“Surelythatcannotbethewholestory,”LadyHurleyagreed,withanintriguedflutterofherfan.
Elizafeltasifshewerestandingunderaverybrightlightandtrieddesperatelytothinkofaresponsetothequestionthatwouldsatisfytheircuriosity,leaveherreputationblemishless,andavoidinsultingMelvilleallatonce—butnosuchmagicalanswerpresenteditselftoher.Fortunately,justatthatmomenttheywereinterruptedbytheMasterofCeremonies,whoindicateditwastimetobeseated.
“Shallweleadtheway,LadySomerset?”Melvillesaid,withaflourishofhishand.
Afterabeatofhesitation,Elizatookit.
“Idonotconsidermyselfaforgettableman,”Melvillesaid,astheymadetheirwaytotheconcertroom.“Perhapsyousofrequentlyfindyourselfincarriagecrashesthatmymemoryhasfadedintoinsignificance?”
“I—Idonot—ith-hasnot,”Elizastammeredout.“Itisjustthat—Ishouldnotparticularlylikethe—thecircumstancesofourmeetingtobecomepublicknowledge.Theirbeingsoparticularlyunusual,youunderstand,theywouldeasilybecomegossipfodder.R-recollectIdidmentiontheneedfordiscretion,onthedayinquestion!”
Thislastremarkwassaidalittledefensively,andMelvillesmiled.
“Soyoudid,”heagreed,escortinghertowardthefrontrowsofchairsratherthantheretiredlocationElizahadplanned.“Mylamentablememory.MayIcomplimentyouuponyourcharmingtoilette,thisevening?”
“Oh—yes,”Elizasaid,startled.“Yes,Isupposeyoumay.”
“IthinkitagreatimprovementthatIcannowseeyourface,”Melvillesaid.“Itsuitsyou.”
“Myface…suitsme?”Elizarepeatedslowly.
“Fortuitous,isitnot?”Melvillesaid.
Fleetingly,ElizawonderedifMelvillewereflirtingwithherbeforedismissingitimmediatelyasimprobable.Melville’sflirtswereusuallyfoundamongstthemostdashingandcharismaticladiesoftheton—LadyOxfordandLadyMelbourne,ifgossipweretobebelieved—whichElizamostcertainlywasnot.
Astherestoftheaudiencefiledinbehindthem,theirrowwastherecipientofeagerglancesandcraningnecks,thoughasMelvilledidnotappearperturbed,Elizaassumedhemustbewellusedtosuchnotice:theMelvilles,borntobothIndianandBritishnobility,hadbeenasourceofnationalfascinationsincetheywereborn.
EvenasMadameCatalaniappeared,theaudience’sattentionseemedterminallydivided—staringjustasmuchtotheirrowasthestage—untilthemomentthesopranobegantosing,whenhervoice,soclear,sopure,soheavywithemotion,enrapturedthemall.
“DoyouunderstandItalian?”MelvilleleanedtowardElizasohecouldwhisperclosetoherear.
“No,”Elizaadmitted.
“NorI,”hesaid.“Ofwhatdoyouthinkshesings?”
“Idonotknow,”Elizasaidlimply,thoughthiswasnottrue.Catalaniinvestedeachnotewithsuchmeaning,suchsorrow,thatElizadidnotneedtounderstandthewordstoknowofwhatemotionshewassinging:heartbreak.Onecouldnothearherwithoutbeingremindedoftimesofsuchmelancholywithinone’sownlifeandEliza’smindwent,inexorably,toSomerset,beforesheforcedthethoughtsaway.
ToosoonforEliza’sliking,itwastheinterval,andsodistractedhadElizabeenbythegloriousmusicthatsheonlyrememberedherintentiontoremainpiouslyseatedonceshewasalreadyinthetearoom,andLadyHurleyhadconcludedtherestofherintroductions.Fortunately,itseemedthemysteryofhowElizaandMelvillehadmethadbeendiscardedinfavorofanewlineofinterrogation.
“HowlonghaveyoubeeninBath?”Mrs.Winkworthhadthefirstvolley.
“Aday,”LadyCarolinesaid.
“Andahalf!”LadyHurleyinterjected.
“Yes,yououghtnotoverlookthehalf,Caroline,”Melvillechastised.
“Andisthisyourfirstvisittoourtown?”Mr.Berwickasked.
“Ohno,”LadyCarolinesaid.“Ioncespentawholemonthhereinmygirlhood,onawhimfrommymothertoseemeformallyschooled.”
“Oh,theBathSeminaryforYoungLadies?”Mrs.Michelsasked.“MissWinkworth,wereyounoteducatedthere?”
“Yes,shewas,”Mrs.Winkworthsaid,speakingforherdaughterasifshewereachild.
“Whyonlyamonth?Youdidnotcareforit?”AdmiralWinkworthsaid,moustachebristlinginanticipatoryoffense.
“Rather,itdidnotcareforme,”LadyCarolinesaid,withaneloquentandelegantshrugofoneshoulder.“ButasIalreadykneweverythinginFrenchawomanoughttoknow,mymotherallowedmetowithdraw.”
ElizabadlywantedtoaskexactlywhichFrenchphrasesinparticularLadyCarolinethoughtessential,butrefrained;whatevertheanswer,itwouldsurelyonlyendinMrs.Winkworthclappingherhandsoverherdaughter’sears.
“AndareyoupleasedwithBath,onyoursecondvisit?”Margaretaskedher,eagerlyjoiningthefray.
“Insomuchasonecanbe,inonlyaday,”LadyCarolinesaidcoolly.
“Andahalf,Caroline,”Melvillecorrected.“Thatistwicenowyouhaveneglectedthehalf.”
“Howlongdoyouplantostay?”Margaretasked.
“Oh,onlyaslongaswearewelcome,”Melvillesaid.
“Careful,mylord,”LadyHurleysaid,withaflirtatioussweepofherfan.“Ifthatisyouronlycondition,youmayfindyourselfstayinghereaverylongwhileindeed.”
“Wouldthatbesuchaterriblefate?”Melvillesaid,leaningincloserthanwascustomarilyconsideredappropriate.“NowthatIhaveseenBath’sdiamondsformyself,Iaminnogreathurrytoleave.”
LadyHurleyglowedattheattention.Besideher,Mr.Fletcherhadpuffeduplikeadisturbedpigeon,andbesidehim,Mrs.Winkworthwasfanningherselfwithsuchaggressionthatshelookedalmostabouttotakeflight.ThescenewassodelightfullyridiculousthatElizatriedconsciouslytoetcheverydetailintohermemory,sothatshemightattempttocaptureitwhenshereturnedhome.Pencilandwatercolor,itwouldhavetobe,toconveytheintricaciesofexpression.
“Doyoumeantowritewhileyouarehere,mylord?”Mrs.Michelsasked.
“Idonot,”Melvillesaid,andseeminglyunruffledbytheseaofenquiringeyes,tookasnuffboxfromhispocketandofferedittothepersonnexttohim—MissWinkworth,whoblushedasrosilyasifithadbeenaringboxandhidbehindherhair.
“Youmustputanendtoourmisery,”LadyHurleysaid.“Whencanweexpectyounexttopublish?”
“WehavecometoBathforarest,”LadyCarolinesaid.
“Welldeserved,Iamsure,”Mr.Berwickinterjected,“forIhearyourindustryhasotherwiseknownnobounds,mylord—fromLordPaulet,inwhomIbelieveweshareamutualfriend.”
“Indeed?”Melvillesaid,thetiniestoffrownsappearingbetweenhiseyebrows.
“IcredithispatronageentirelyformyacceptanceintotheRoyalAcademy,”Mr.Berwicksaideagerly.“IwasverygratefulthatmydearfriendsMr.TurnerandMr.Hazlittsawtointroduceus.”
Melvilleappearedtoregardthefloorinsomeastonishment.
“Dobecarefulwhereyoustep,Caro,”hesaid.“Thereareagreatmanynamesuponthefloor.”
Atthis,Elizacouldnothelplettingoutthetiniestchokeoflaughter—hearingit,Melvillethrewherasurreptitiouswink.Hewasflirtingwithher—awinkwas,afterall,themostflirtatiousactaneyecouldperform.Well.Thiswas—thiswashighlyinappropriate.Elizawasawidowinherfirstyearofmourning,andMelvilleoughttoknowbetter.Clearlyhislibertinereputationwaswell-earned!ButtheoutragedidnotsoundconvincingevenintheprivacyofEliza’sownmind.IthadbeensuchalongtimesinceElizahadreceivedanysuchregardfromagentleman—andcertainlyneverfromoneassought-afterasMelville—shecouldnothelpbutfeelwarmed.
“Ibelievewearetotakeourseatsagain,”Mr.Broadwatersaidgruffly.
AsElizatookherseat,thistimeseatedalittleawayfromMelville,shecouldnothelpbutglanceathimsidelong;onecouldnotdenyhewasveryhandsome,withsucheleganceofcarriage,too!—butwhenshefoundhergazecaughtandreturnedbytheamusedgentleman,shelookedquicklyaway.
TheperformancefinishedtoageneralmurmurofapplauseandcheerandMadameCatalaniunbenttominglewiththeaudiencemembersafterward,attachingherselfimmediatelytoMelville’ssideandengaginghiminanimatedconversationthatnecessitatedthefrequenttouchofherhanduponhisarm.ElizaandMargaret,however,couldnotlinger—theyhadstretchedtheboundsofappropriatebehaviorasfarastheycouldandmadeinsteadstraightforthecloakroom.
“Thunderan’turf!”Margaretdeclaredimproperlyastheircloakswerebeingretrievedforthem.Elizaempathizedentirely.TheirfortnightinBathhadfeltmorevariegatedandinterestingthantheirentirelivesupuntilthispoint,buttheadditionoftheMelvillestothecity…Itwasasifanalreadydeliciouswinehadbeenrenderedabruptlysparkling,andasmuchasMelville’sflirtatiousnessoughttoconcernonewhoseentireliferesteduponpristinebehavior,she,too,wasbrimmingwithexcitement.
“Later,”Elizapromised.TheywouldstokethefireandaskPerkinsforteaanddiscusseverything.Butittooksuchalongwhilefortheircloakstobelocatedthatbythetimetheyexitedthebuilding—Stavesthefootmanstridingaheadtohailacab—theyfoundthattheMelvilleshadovertakenthem.Theywerestandingonthecobbledstreetjustahead,LadyCarolinefiddlingwiththeclasptohercloakandMelvillebouncingimpatientlyupontheballsofhisfeet.
“Letusbidthemgoodnight,”Margaretwhispered,makingasiftowalkforward,butbeforeshecouldsayanything,Melville’svoicerangout.
“Dohurryup,Caroline,”hesaid.“Iwishanendtothistediousnight.NeverinmylifehaveIenduredsuchinsipidcompany.Icannotcomprehendhowwearetosurvivehere.”
“Thereislessthananounceofspiritamongstthem,”LadyCarolineagreed.“LetushopeforaswiftreturntoLondon.”
“Hopeandpray,”Melvilleagreed.“Lordsaveusfrombumpkins,spinstersandwidows—bores,thelotofthem!”
LadyCarolinelaughed,andthen,claspinghisarm,theywalkedoffintothenight.
“Oh,”Margaretsaid,hervoicesmall.
Eliza’sfacewasburning.Theystoodthere,blanklystaringaftertheMelvilles
“Isuppose,”Margaretsaid—andtherewasnoexcitementinhervoiceanymore,“Isupposewearedullincomparisontotheirusualset.”
“Wearenotdull,”Elizasaid,tryingtocontrolthewobblingcornersofhermouth.“A-andwewouldnotdeservesuchdisrespect,evenifwewere.”
Shefelthotandcrossandasifshemightweep,allatonce.Sheclimbedrigidlyupintothecarriagewhenitarrived,andclaspedherhandstightly,holdingherselftogetherasbestshecould.
Itwashardlythefirsttimeshehadnotbeenliked.Onthecontrary,alifetimeofslightsandsnubsmeantthatsheusuallynavigatedtheworldinexpectationofsuchcensure,butshehadnotexpectedittonight.Shehadnotexpecteditfromhim.Eliza’sfacewasscarletwithmortification.Shecouldnotbelievethatsuchashorttimebeforeshehadbeensothrilledtoreceivetheflatteryofhisattention,whenallthewhile,thatwaswhathewastrulythinking.Shewasafool.
Byunspokenagreement,ElizaandMargarettookstraighttotheirbedchamberswhentheyarrivedhome.Therewasnolongeranypleasuretobehadindiscussingtheevening,butneitherdidsleepappearatalllikely.AfterElizahadbeenhelpedtoundressbyPardle,shesatmotionlessuponherbed,theMelvilles’wordsrepeatinginhermindlikeachildren’srhymebeingsungintheround:boring,insipid,spiritless.Theinsultsmighthavehurtless,hadElizabeensuretheywereuntrue.Butasitwas…“Obedientanddutiful,”herhusbandhadcalledherinthewill;“incapableofcausingaraisedeyebrow,”Somersethaddeemedheratthereading;andnow,afteronlytwoencounters,Melvilleseemedtothinkjustaslittleofher.Elizahadthought,bycomingtoBathinsteadofBalfour,thatshehadprovedherbravery,butthatwasnottrue,wasit?ForithadbeenMargaret’scourage,andnothers,thathadledthemhere.Andsincetheyhadarrived,hadnotElizabeenquiteasmuchruledbytheopinionsandwillsofothersasever?
Thesensiblecourseofactiontotake,whenoneisfeelingparticularlyworthless,istotrytocheeroneselfupwithhappierthoughtsanddistractions.Inthatmoment,however,Elizawastemptedinsteadbythemorecompellingideaofmakingherselffeelagreatdealworse.
Standing,shewalkedovertothewritingdeskthatstoodinthecornerofherbedchamberandopenedadrawertoextractthesmallwoodenboxthatshehadcarefullyplacedinsideweeksbefore.Sheplacedtheboxonthetableandsatdownbeforeit.
Elizaoughttohaveburnedthecontentsalongtimeago.Instead,shehadsmuggleditintoHarefieldatseventeen,andtenyearslaterbroughtittoBath.PerhapsthecollectioninsidewentsomewaytoexplainingwhytheflamesofEliza’saffectionforSomersetstillflickeredonevennow—forwheneverhismemoryriskedgrowingfaint,shecouldopenthisbox,andberemindedofhowterriblyinlovetheyoncewere.
Onthetopofthepileofpapersthatlayinsidetheboxwasaportrait.ItwasnotEliza’sbestwork,justapencilsketchofSomerset’sfaceandtorso,drawnfrommemoryratherthaninperson,anditlackeddetailandprecisionasaresult.Butevenso,onecouldtell,justfromaglance,thattheartisthadlovedthesubject.Eliza’sgrandfatheralwayshadsaidthatElizadrewasmuchwithherheartasshedidwithherhandsanditwasthere,plainasday,inthecarefulstrokesofthepencil,theeffortthathadbeeninvestedincapturingeverydetailofhiseyes…Theirexpression—well,theexpressionwaseverything.Thesoftwaythesketch-Somersetwasregardingher,asifsheweresomethinginfinitelyprecious—exactlyhowhehadusedtolookather,before…
Elizaliftedtheportraitoutandplaceditgentlytotheside.Underneathlaytheletters,wearingthinandyellowfromage.Theinkhadgrownfainterwitheachyearthatpassed,butElizadidnotneedtobeabletoreadthewords.Shecouldtelltheirstoryfromhandwritingalone:atthebeginning,hisscriptwasneatandprecise,onthenotesthathadaccompaniedtheflowershehadsentheraftertheirfirstmeeting.Theirshadbeenastraditionalacourtshipascouldbe,andshehadthedancecards,alllitteredwithhisname,toproveit.Theymetatoneball,dancedatanother,theyspokeandflirtedatgardenpartiesandcardpartiesandexcursionstotheracesandinamatterofweekstheywerepenningeachothersheetsandsheetsofheartfeltconfessionsinhandwritingthatwasquicker,closer,moreurgent—untiltheverylastletterinthebox,thatendedwithwordsthatElizahadtracedwithherfingermoretimesthanshecouldcount.ThedepthofmyregardforyouissuchthatIamdriventoaction.TomorrowIshallpayavisittoyourfather.
Itwasthelastiteminthebox.Onecouldalmostfooloneselfintothinkingthatwashowthetaleended.Afather’spermissionsought,granted,thequestionasked,andanswered.Marriage.Children.Happiness.Butithadnothappenedthatway.Andthefactthattheirlast,bitterwordstooneanotherhadbeenspoken,ratherthanwritten,didnotmakethemanylesstrue.
“Youmusttellthemyouwillnot,Eliza,”hehadurgedher,faceaswhiteasthemoonabove.“Youmusttellthemyouhaveapriorattachment.”
“Ihavetried,”shehadwhispered,voicechoked.“Theywillnotlisten.”
“Thenmakethemlisten!”heimplored.“Theycannotforceyouintoacceptinghissuit!”
“Icannotdefythem,youmustseethat,”shehadbegged,tryingtoholdontohishandsevenashepulledthemaway.“Thethingssuchamatchwoulddoformyfamily—Icannotgoagainsttheirwishes.”
“Myuncle,Eliza!Youcannot—yousurelycannotdothistome.”
Shehadtriedtomakehimunderstand—shethoughtshemightdieifhedidn’tunderstand—buthehadnot.Allhecouldseewasaweaknessofcharacter.
“Youhavenospirit,”hehadsaid,atlast.“Youhavenospirit,Eliza.”
Then,asnow,thewordshadhurtbecausetheyfelttrue.
Elizasnappedtheboxshut.Enough.ShecouldnotallowherselftobehauntedbySomerset’swordsanylonger,andnorcouldsheallowMelville’storuinthelifesheandMargarethadbeenbuildinghere.Andifshecouldnotprovetoeithergentlemanthatshehadspirit,thenshecouldatleastproveittoherself.
Elizapulledoutafreshsheetofpaperfromadrawer.PerhapsheravoidanceofwritingtoSomersethadbeenduetomorethansimplytheawkwardnessofsuchacorrespondence.Perhapsshehadknownthatitwouldfeelsofinal,writingtohiminsuchaformalmanner,knowinghewouldrespondinkind—knowingthatshewouldbeplacingintheboxaletterthatproved,irrefutably,thattheirromanticrelationshipwastrulyandpermanentlyatanend.Butatanenditwas.Andshecouldnotavoidthattruthanylonger.Itwastimetoceaseallowingeventsmerelytooccurtoher,andtocommenceactingforherself
Elizadashedoffashortnote,wishinghimwell,informinghimbrieflyofherdecisiontoremaininBathfortheforeseeablefuture,andbegginghispardonforthedelayinhercorrespondence.Thisdone,shefoldedthepaper,waxeditclosed,andwrotehisaddressonthefront.Shewouldpostittomorrow.Itwasasmallstep,butitfeltagoodstart.Elizawouldnotbespiritlessanymore.6
Elizawasnotusedtothinkingofherselfasaparticularlyangryperson.Shehadfeltanger,ofcourse,andoften,butithadalwayspassedthroughherasavisitingemotion.Mostofthetime,therewasnouseremainingcrossforlong.Mostofthetime,onesimplyhadtogetonwithit.ItwastoEliza’sconsiderablesurprise,therefore,tofindherselfuponwakingthenextmorningquitealightwithrage.Sometimeduringhersleepherhumiliationandsorrowandtentativefeelingsofresolutionfromthenightbeforehadmingledtogetherinacuriousalchemytocreateanincandescentwrathshehadneverknownbefore.HowdareMelvillesaysuchathingabouther—aboutMargaret—whentheyhadnotdoneanythingintheleasttodeserveit?HowdarehetrytoruinBathforher,howdarehethinkhimselfsofarabovethem,howdarehe!Thegallofthemanwasincomprehensible.
Wrathfulindignationwasoddlyenergizing.Elizahadnoneed,infact,ofthetwofortifyingcupsofcoffeeatthebreakfasttable,thoughsheavailedherselfofthemallthesame.
“Shallweremainathometoday?”Margaretsuggestedmorosely.“Thatwindlooksawfullychilly.”
ElizaandMargarethad,itappeared,traveledonradicallydifferentemotionaljourneysinthenight,forMargaretlookeddistinctlydowntroddenasshenibbledhalf-heartedlyatapieceoftoast.
“No!”Elizadeclared.“WeshallbegoingtoMilsomStreetassoonasyouarefinished.”
TheyleftCamdenPlaceatabrisktrotthathadMargaretgrumblingandwerethefirstcustomersofthedayatMr.Fasana’sRepositoryofArts.
“Ishouldliketopurchasesomeoils!”Elizadeclared,assoonastheyentered,startlingtheshopassistanthalfoutofhisskin.AndwhenaharassedMr.Fasanaappeared,Elizaheldontoherfury,whichinsomestrangewayseemedalsotoserveasasortofemotionalshield,andmadeafullorderofoilsinwhatfeltclosetoeverycolorunderthesun,fromvermilionandsepia,toPrussianblueandIndianyellow.Mr.Fasanapromiseddeliverylaterthatveryday.
“Willthatbeall,mylady?”heasked.
“Yes,”Elizasaid.Then:“No.”
Andsheproceededtomakesuchanorderofsuchlength—ofeaselsandpalettes,andadozensquiresofpaper,andpaintbrushesfromthesizeofapintothesizeofafinger,jewelingpencilsandbristlepencils,primedcloth,canvasandwoodenpanelsthatMr.Fasanaagreedtoprepareforher—thatMargaretcommented,astheylefttheshop,that:“ItmighthavebeeneasiertoinformMr.Fasanawhatyoudidn’twishtopurchase.”
TheywentnexttoDuffield’slibrary,whereElizaorganizedasubscriptiontotheAnnalsoftheFineArtsmagazineandborrowedeverytextonagricultureshecouldfind.
“Itcannotbesohard,tolearnthesethings,”shedeclareddefiantlytoMargaret,“whateverMr.Walcotsays!”
ThentheysteppedbrieflyintoMadamePrevette’sshoptoplaceanorderfortworidinghabits(theywouldkeepastableintown,forsuchafreedomwouldbeworthafewraisedeyebrows),beforeheadingatlastforthePumpRoom.
“Tomorrow,”Elizadecided,herwalkevenfasterthanithadbeenontheoutboundjourney,“ImightrequestfromMr.Fasanathenameofadrawingmaster,forperhapsIwilltakeuplessonsagain.Whyshouldawoman’seducationceaseaftersheismarried?WouldyouliketotakeFrenchlessons,Margaret?Iknowyouhavealwayswantedto,andwecanmorethanaffordtheexpense,now.”
“Areyouquitewell?”Margaretasked.“Youarelookingswivel-eyed.”
“Iamverywell,”Elizasaid.“Imerelythinkitwouldbehooveustostartpursuingourgoalswithalittleenergy,Margaret.Ishallnotbeinsipidanylonger!”
“Ah,”Margaretsaid.“Iseewhatishappening.”
“LadySomerset!”
ElizaandMargaretturnedtofindthemselves,forthesecondtimeinasmanydays,bornedownuponbyMrs.andMissWinkworth.
“Goodday!”Mrs.Winkworthcried.“AreyouboundforthePumpRoom,aswell?Weshalljoinyou.”
“Wonderful,”Margaretmutteredunderherbreath,voicethickwithsarcasm.
“Didyouenjoytheconcertlastnight,mylady?”Mrs.WinkworthaskedEliza.“Ithasnottiredyouout,hasit?IfImaysay,youarelookingatriflefatigued.”
No,youmaynot,Elizathoughttestily.
“Weenjoyedtheconcertverymuch,”shesaid.“Howdidyoufindit?”
“Well,”Mrs.Winkworthbeganwithgreatemphasis,“IamnotsureIthinkitwhollywiseforLadyHurleytohavesoencouragedtheseMelvilles.Shecannotbeawareofthefamily’sreputation—LadyHurley’shusbandacquiredhistitlethroughtrade,youknow,sowecannotexpecthertobewell-versedinsuchintricacies.”
Mrs.WinkworthmadeagreatdealofhergentilityincomparisontoLadyHurley’s—thatAdmiralWinkworth’swealthhadbeenaccruedjustasrecently,fromhistimeemployedbytheEastIndiaCompany,sheelectedtooverlook.
“Thefurorwhenthelateearlchosesuchan…exoticladytowife!Ihaveneverknownitsequal.”Mrs.Winkworthpaused,asifexpectingElizaorMargarettobeghertocontinue.Theydidnot.AsmuchangerasElizafelttowardMelvilleandLadyCaroline,shestilldidnotwanttohearsuchunpleasantness.
“AndwhileIdosohategossip,”Mrs.Winkworthcarriedoninaloweredvoice,“thewhisperswerethatthelateearlspenthistimeinIndiawearingthedressofaMusselman,attendingalltheirfestivalsandgoodnessknowswhatelse—”
“IfthelateQueenapprovedthematch,Icannotthinkwhyanyoneelseshouldobject,”Elizainterrupted.
TheMelvillesweredistantlyrelatedtoQueenCharlotteonhermajesty’smother’slineandherpublicfriendshipwiththelateLadyMelvillehaddonemuchtosmooththelady’swayintotheton
“Godresthersoul,”Mrs.Winkworthsaidatonce.Then,asifshecouldn’thelpherself:“Whateverelse,IdonotbelievethattheirreasonsforvisitingBathcanbeasinnocentastheymaintain.AndtheLondongossipwillreachuseventually!”
Fortunately,conversationhaltedastheyarrivedatthePumpRoom.Ahandsomebuildinginsideandout,withtworangesoflargewindowsandaborderofCorinthiancolumns,thePumpRoomwaswhereonecouldpartakeofBath’sfamoushealingwaters,whethertobatheinthemdownstairs,ormorecommonlytoimbibethemintheroomabove.However,itsimportancewassocialasmuchasmedical,asresidentsandvisitorsalikegatheredthroughoutthedaytotakeastrollabouttheroom,meetingfriendsandsurveyingforanyinterestingnewcomers.
ForeachofEliza’svisitsthusfar,theroomhadbeenpleasantlythrummingwithpeople,withmurmursofchatterheardfaintlyovertheviolinsthatplayedeverydayfromoneo’clock,buttodayitwasaveritablesqueeze.Andthereasonforthischangewasalltooapparent:holdingcourtinthemiddleoftheroomweretheMelvilles.Today,LadyCarolinewaswearingamorningdressofgreencrêpe,itselegantsimplicitymakingeveryotherwomanintheroomlookdreadfullyovertrimmedbycomparison,whiletheclingingfabricshowedherfinefigureofftoperfection.
“AnditappearswearetobeseeingagreatdealofLadyCaroline,ineverysense,”Mrs.Winkworthsaidcuttingly.
“Ithinkshelookswonderful,”MissWinkworthsaid,soquietlythatElizamightnothaveheardher,hadshenotbeenstandingsoclose.UnfortunatelyforMissWinkworth,hermotherheardhertoo.
“Herdressisindecent—andyououghtnottoadmireit,”Mrs.Winkworthtoldherdaughterseverely.“DoyouwantLadySomersettothinkyoufast?”
MissWinkworthlookeduptoElizawithsuchbig,frightenedeyesthatshemighthavebeeneightyearsratherthaneighteen.
“Idonotthinkherfast,”Elizasaidhastily.“IlikeLadyCaroline’sdress,too.”
“Goodmorning!”LadyHurleyandMr.Fletcherhadappearedbehindthem,followedwithinmomentsbyMrs.MichelsandMr.Broadwater.“Whatwonderfulsunshine!”
“Splendid!”Mr.Fletcheragreed.InEliza’sbriefacquaintancewiththegentleman,itappearedthathisopinionsonallpersons,situationsandconversationscouldbesplitintothree:“splendid,”“notthething”and,whenthesituationrequired,“damnedifIknow.”
“Areyouimbibingthewaters,today,LadyHurley?”Elizaasked.
“Yesindeed,Mr.Fletcherisabouttofetchmeaglass—wouldyoulikeone?”
“Ohyes,ifitisnottoomuchtrouble,Mr.Fletcher?”Elizasaid.“Canyoucarrysomany?”
“DamnedifIknow,”Mr.Fletchersaid,settingoffwithpurpose,nonetheless.
“Whatlanguage!”Mr.Broadwatersaid,disapproving.“Infrontofladies,too.”
“Oh,wedon’tmind,”LadyHurleysaid,takingalookaroundtheroom.“Itseemsmynewneighborsaremakingquitethestir,indeed!”
“Asesteemedpersonsalwaysshould!”Mr.Berwickagreed,appearingatLadyHurley’sleft-handsideandbowingagreeting.Hishairtoday,unlikeitsprimneatnessthedaybefore,hadbeenfashionedintoakindofelegantdisorder.Itwasnotdifficulttoseewheresuchinspirationhadcomefrom.“ImyselfshallbeaskingLordMelvilletositformeathisearliestconvenience—didyouknowhehasnotsatforaportraitsincechildhood?”
MurmursofinterestgreetedthisnewsandElizafeltapangofenvy—notthatshewantedtopaintMelville,forafterlastnightshefranklywishedhimatJericho—butfortheeasewithwhichMr.Berwickdeclaredsuchathing.Shehadonlyeverbeenabletodrawandpaintmembersofherownfamily,andwhilefemaleartistsofrenowndidexist,ofcourse,scandalandslanderstillattendeduponanywomanwhosoughtsuchpublicachievement.EvenEliza’sgrandfather,herguideandchampion,hadnotfeltitproperforwomentojointheRoyalAcademy.
“Youmaywellpainthim,Mr.Berwick,”LadyHurleysaid.“ButitisIwhoshallhosttheirfirstsoireeinBath.IcanonlyregretthatIamawayfromtownFridayandSaturday,orIshouldhavedonesothen.”
“Istheresuchanurgency?”Elizaasked,amusedatthefretfulnoteinLadyHurley’svoice.
“Why,Idonotwanttobepippedtothepostagain!”LadyHurleysaid.“LadyKeithhadthehostingofMadameD’ArblaywhenshearrivedinBath,Mrs.PiozzihadthePersianstudentslastNovember—butIamdeterminedtohavetheMelvilles!”
Mrs.Winkworthgaveasoftsnort,perhapstointimateincredulityatLadyHurleyproclaimingherselfacompetitorofsuchdistinguishedladies,butElizaignoredher.
“Areyounotatallworriedtohavesuchvery—ah—dashingpersonsintown?”Mrs.MichelsaskedLadyHurley,asMr.BerwickbustledoffinMelville’sdirection.
“Astrongsenseofimproprietysurroundsthem!”Mr.Broadwaterdeclared.
“Oh,pish,”LadyHurleysaidscornfully.“ItisaboontohavesuchfashionablepersonsinBath,andespeciallytwowithsuchclevernessofmind.”
“Clevernessiscommendable—butanexcessisfatalinfemales!”Mr.Broadwatersaiddamningly.Withcrowsofoutrage,LadyHurleyandMargaretgaveaspiritedrejoinder,whileEliza’sattentiondrewalittleawayfromthecommotion,eyesstrayingtotheMelvillesoncemore.Watchingtheearlspeak—hisaudiencethrowingbacktheirheadsinamusementaroundhim—shefeltanitchinherfingertipsasshehadlastnight.WouldsketchingMelvillelostatsea,deprivedofentertainmentandapproachingcertaindeath,offerhersatisfactionfromherrage?Melville,asifawareofbeingwatched,flickedhisgazeupandoverinherdirection.Theireyesmet.Heliftedhisarmingreeting.
AndEliza,whohadneveronceinherlifetrespassedintorudeness,turnedhershoulderonhim,lookingdeliberatelyandobviouslyaway,asiftodenyhisexistence.Thecutdirect.
Evenasshedidit,Elizacouldnotquitebelieveherowndaring,herheartquickeningandherpalmsprickling.Insevenandtwentyyears,shehadneverdeliveredthecutdirectbefore.Shehadletcountlessslightsandinsultsgounchallenged,unanswered,swallowingherprideagainandagainandpresentingaplacidsmiletotheworld,but…Nomore.Nomore.AcceptingaglassfromMr.Fletcherwithasmileofthanks,shetookasip…Onlytoalmostchokeonitatthesoundofaquietbutveryfamiliarvoice.
“Didyoujustcutmedirect?”
Elizaturnedquickly,tofindMelvillestandingdirectlybeforeher,headcocked.Hermouthfellopeninhorror.
“I—ah—”shestammered,herfacegrowinghot.
“Youdid!”hecrowed,intriguedanddelighted.
Elizastaredathim,panicked.Shehadnotexpectedtohavetoconversewithhim.Wasnotthewholepointofcuttingapersondirectthatonedidnothavetospeakwiththem?
“MayIaskwhy?”Melvillesaid.
Hedidnotseemoffended,discomfortedorevendiscomposed,andthisfact,ratherthancalmingEliza,reignitedherindignation.Didhetrulybelievehimselftobesoaboveherthatheneednotbetouchedinanywaybythecutdirect?
“Come,mylady,”Melvilleprompted,whenstillshedidnotspeak.“InwhatmannerhaveIoffendedyou?”
Eliza,everyounceofangershehadfeltoverthepastdayrisingup,drewherselftoherfullheight.
“Onlyineverypossiblewayyoucould,”shesaid,asdefiantlyasshedaredwhilstkeepinghervoicelow—althougheveryonearoundthemwasbusiedinconversation,shedidnotwanttoriskbeingoverheard.
“Howterriblycomprehensiveofme,”Melvillesaid,blinking.“MayIaskyoutoelaborate?”
Cautionalreadythrowntothewind,itseemedpointlesstotryandretrieveit.
“WeheardwhatyousaidtoLadyCarolinelastnight,asyouwereleaving,”Elizasaid,turningherbodyslightlytodrawhimalittlefurtherawayfromthenearestgroupofpotentialeavesdroppers.
“Youwillhavetoremindme…”Melvillesaid,slowly.
“?‘Lordsaveusfrombumpkins,spinstersandwidows—bores,thelotofthem!’?”Elizaquoted.
“…Ah,”hesaid.“Howunfortunate,foryoutohaveheardsuchathoughtless—ifpithy—comment.”
Elizagapedathim.
“Doyoutrulyfeelnoshame?”sheaskedhim.
“WhyoughtIfeelshame,”hesaid,stillwiththatinfuriatingsmilecurlinghislips.“Itisyou,notI,thathascommittedthesinofeavesdropping,afterall.”
ToEliza’shorrorshefoundtearsoffrustrationspringingtohereyes,andblinkedthemdesperatelyback.
“AndIamgladIdid,fornowIknowhowyoutrulythink,”shesaid,keepinghervoiceaslevelasshecould.“Thoughevenifwewereasdullasyouandyoursisterseemtobelieve,thenwewouldstillnotdeservesuchunkindness.”
Hervoiceendedagreatdealwobblierthanitbegan,andinthefaceofsuchaudibleemotion,theresidualhumorfadedfromMelville’sexpression.
“Youhumbleme,mylady,”hesaid,seeming,atlast,totakeherseriously.“Thesepastweekshavebeen…difficultforCarolineandI…Butthatisnodefense.Youarecorrect,itwasmostunkind.Iamsorry.”
Theapologyseemedsincere.Elizatookamomenttoappreciateit,foritwasnotoftenthatagentlemanadmittedwrongdoing,nomatterthecrime.Inalltheiryearsofmarriage,theearlhadnotdonesoonce.
“Thankyou,”shesaidatlast,noddingheracceptance.Overhisshoulder,Elizasawthattheywerebeginningtoattractanaudienceofimpatientladies.
“Ioughtn’tmonopolizeyourattention,”shesaid.“IbelieveMrs.Donovanwouldliketospeakwithyou.”
“Icarenot,”Melvillesaidinsouciantly.“Iwishtospeakwithyou.”
Elizalookedathimwithuncertainty,suspectingajoke.ShemayhaveacceptedMelville’sapology,butshewouldneveragainmakethemistakeoftreatinghisflirtationseriously.
“Isthatsosurprising?”Melvilleasked.
“Itwasonlyyesterdaythatyoudeemedmeabore,”shepointedout.
“Mylady,youreallymustforgivethe‘bore’episodeifwearetobefriends,”Melvillesaid.
“Arewetobefriends?”Elizaasked,startled.
“Indeed,itismydearest,lifelongwish,”hesaid,claspingahandtohisheart.“YoumustdinewithusatLauraPlace—MissBalfour,too.”
“Icannot,”Elizasaid.
“Whynot?”
“Iamnotyetdiningabroad,”Elizasaid,gesturingtoherwidow’sweeds.“Andwehavenotevenexchangedmorningvisits.Itwouldbe…odd.Peoplewouldtalk.”
“Andwhataviolentchangeofcircumstancesthatwouldbe,”Melvillesaid,drily.
Elizastared.Couldhetrulycaresolittleforthegossipandtherumorsthatfollowedhimaround?
“ThetonhavebeentalkingaboutmesinceIwasborn,”Melvillesaid,asifabletoreadthesethoughtsfromEliza’sface.“IfIstartedworryingabouttheiropinionsnow,Iwouldhavetoimmediatelyconsignmyselftoanunnery.”
“Doyounotmeanamonastery?”Elizaasked,ratherthanacknowledgethemoresalubriousimplicationsofhisspeech.
“No,thenunnery,”Melvillesaid.“SurelyImustbeallowedsomefun?”
Beforeshecouldstopherself,Elizaletoutachokeofscandalizedlaughter.
“Shelaughs!”Melvillesaid,grinningvictoriously.
“Mylady,mylord—goodmorning!IdohopeIamnotinterrupting?”Mrs.Donovanhadfinallypluckedupthecouragetoapproach,alongwithherthreedaughters.AllwereclutchingvolumesofPersephone,andclearlybentonreceivinghissignature.
“Notatall!Doexcuseme,”Elizasaid,ignoringthedarklookMelvillesenther,andslippingawaytofindMargaret.Shetrulywasgratefulforthereprieve:onesimplycouldnotpredict,fromonemoment,whatMelvillewouldsaynext,andwhileitwascertainlydiverting,Elizawasnotatallusedtohavingherwitssothoroughlytested.
“Thecutdirect?Eliza,youdidnot,”Margaretsaidontheirwalkhome.
“Idid!”Elizasaid,notevenattemptingtohidehowpleasedwithherselfshewasnowthatshehadonlyMargaretand,afewstepsbehind,Pardleasheraudience.“AndImadehimapologize!Ihavenevermadeagentlemanapologizebefore!”
AstheyreachedCamdenPlace,Elizanoticedherbootlacehadcomeuntiedandstoopedautomaticallytofixit,stilltalking.
“Notmyfather,notmyhusband,neitherofmybrothers—”
“Somerset,”Margaretsaid.
Elizafrownedasshetightenedthelace.
“IamnotsureaboutSomerset,”shesaid,thinking.
“No,Eliza,Somerset,”Margaretsaid.
AndElizalookedupfromherstoop,followedthedirectionofMargaret’sgazeandsawthatindeed,afewyardsahead—utterlyincomprehensibly—andexitingthefrontdoorofherhouse,wastheEarlofSomerset.7
IttookElizaseverallongmomentstotrulycomprehendwhatshewasseeing.
“Whatonearth…?”shewhisperedtoMargaret.
“Standup!”Margareturgedher,butElizadidnothear.TheunlikelinessofSomerset,here,inBath,walkingoutofherhouse,wassuchthatshecouldnotbelievewhathereyestoldher.Elizaremainedbentwhereshewas,staring.
Bynow,Somersethadturnedatthegateandwithintwostepshehadseenthem.
“LadySomerset,”hesaid,checkingslightly—insurprise,presumably,atthesightofElizacrouchedsoupontheground.“Whyareyou…?”
This,atlast,galvanizedElizaintoaction.
Shesprangup.“Mylord!Wewerenotexpect—”
Shemovedsohurriedlythatthebloodrushedallatoncetoherhead,andshetotteredonherfeet.MargaretmadeahastygrabofEliza’sleftarmtosteadyherandPardledashedforward,handsoutstretched.
“LadySomerset!”Somersetsaid,steppingswiftlyforward.“Areyoufaint?”
Thechillyreservehehadexhibitedattheirfirstmeetinghadvanished.Hisbrowsfurrowedashelookedherover,appearingalmost…concerned?
“Iam—quitewell,”Elizasaid,awashwithembarrassmentathergracelessness.“Itwasjustmyshoe…”
“Perhapsweoughttotakeherinside,”Somersetsaid,speakingtoMargaretoverEliza’sheadasifshewereapproachingahundredyearsold.
“Verywell,”Margaretsaid,exchangingabaffledglancewithEliza.
“Canyouwalk,mylady?”Somersetasked.
“OfcourseIcan!”Elizasaid.Couldaladynothaveonemomentofprecariousnesswithoutbeingdeemedutterlyincapable?“Thereisnoneed—”
Shewasabouttodeclareherselfperfectlyabletowalkunassisted,butatthatmomentSomersetslippedanarmaroundherwaisttosteadyherand,withajolt,Elizafoundthatperhapsshedidnotmindtheassistance,afterall.
“Mylady!”Perkinsexclaimedinalarmastheyenteredthehallway,atthesightofElizabeingthuslysupported.
“Perhapssomecordialcouldbefetchedforherladyship,”Somersetsaidcalmly.“Tobebroughtuptothedrawingroomimmediately.”
Pardledisappearedobedientlytowardthekitchen.Elizawastornbetweenbafflementattheunexpectedturnthedayhadtaken,indignationatthewaySomersetwasorderingherservantsabout,andreluctantadmirationfortheefficientwayhewasorganizingmatters.Whyheseemedsosureshewassufferingwithafaintingspell,shecouldnotknow,butonecouldnotarguethatheactedwithdecision.
Hedidnotwithdrawhisholduntiltheyhadclimbedthestairs,enteredthedrawingroom—Perkinsholdingthedooropenforthem—andElizawasseateduponthesofa.
“Well,I—Ithankyoufortheassistance,mylord,”Elizasaid,alittlebreathless,decidingthebestthingtodowouldbetobrushpastthewholeencounterasifithadneverhappened.“Ihopeyourfamilyis—”
“Perhapsyouhadbestnotspeak,untilyouhavedrunksomecordial,”Somersetsaid,firmlyinterruptingherpleasantriesasPardlere-enteredwithatray.
Elizaacceptedaglass,dismissingthemaidwithasmile.
“Iamquitewell,”shetriedagaintoexplaintoSomerset.“Itwasonlymyshoe.”
“Thepoorhoneyissoconfused,”Margaretsaid,asparkofmischiefinhereye.Elizaglaredather.
“MissBalfour,couldyoulayyourhandsonsomesmellingsalts,incaseLadySomersetfeelsfaintagain?”Somersetasked.
“Icantry,”Margaretsaiddubiously.“PerhapsPardlewillknowwheretheyaretobefound.”
Shestrolledoutoftheroomatapacethatdidnotinspireurgency.Eliza—givinguponmakingsenseofproceedings—sippedobedientlyatthecordial,whilewatchingSomersetfromunderherlashes.Hetookaseatonthechairopposite,butremainedtenseupontheedgeasifheexpectedhertofaintagainatanymoment
“WedidnotexpectyouinBath,”Elizasaid,afteralongpause.
“NorI,you,”Somersetreplied.“IhavecomedirectlyfromMr.Walcot,whoinformedmeofyourpresenceinBath—andofyourhealth.Iconfess,Ihadnonotionofyourbeingsoill.”
Oh.Somerset’sbehaviorbegantomakesense.SheknewMargarethadoverdoneherdescriptionofEliza’sillhealthtoMr.Walcot.Goodnessknewhowthemanmusthavedescribedher“fluralgia”inordertohaveSomersetcomedirectlyover,whenatHarefieldhecouldnotremovehimselffromhercompanyfastenough.
“Itisnotatallserious,”shesaid.
“Mr.Walcotseemedtothinkitveryserious,”Somersetpressed.
“Amisunderstanding,only,”Elizasaid.“ItwasnotseriousandIamquitewellnow.”
Shedidnotliketohavetolietohim,butneithercouldshetellthewholetruth.
“Iamgladtohearit,”Somersetsaid.“ThewayhespokeI—”
Hebrokeoff.
“Itwasalittlefatigue,only,”Elizasaid.
ButSomersetwasfrowningagain.
“ThenmayIask,”hesaidslowly,“whywasInotinformedofyourdeparturetoBath?Theseriousnessofyourconditionwouldhaveexplainedtheoversight—butifitisnotserious…”
Ohdear.
“Didyounotreceivemyletter?”Elizaasked,hervoicethehighsqueakitalwaysbecamewhenshehadtolieonshortnotice.“Ididwriteto—toinformyouofthechangeinplan,butperhapsitwasalittle—ah—delayed.”
Somersetraisedhiseyebrowswithpoliteincredulity.
“When,mayIask,wasthislettersent?”hesaid.
Ohdear
“Iamnotquitesure,”Elizasaid.“Therewassimplysomuchtodo…”
Somersetlookedather,hisfacechillyoncemore.
“Mylady,”hesaidafteralongpause,“Iamwellawarethatmyunclewasdisappointedtohavemeasanheir.HemadeitquiteclearthatIwasapoorreplacementforahoped-forson,whichisperhapswhyheneverinvestedinmyeducationintherunningofthelands.Andperhapsthatisanopinionyoushare.However,Icannotperformmydutyasheadofthisfamilyifyoudonotrespectme.”
“Ohgoodnessno!”Elizasaid,quitehorrified.“Ithadnothingtodowith…Idorespectyou,indeedIdo.”
“AndyetIhadtodiscovernewsofyourwhereaboutsfromMr.Walcot,whowasmuchsurprisedtolearnIwasnotalreadyaware,”Somersetsaid,voicehard.“Myembarrassmentwasconsiderable,Iassureyou.”
Underthechastisement,Elizabegantofeellikeachild.
“Ioughttohavewrittensooner,”shesaid.“Itwasunconscionablyrude.”
Somersetnodded,somewhatmollified.
“Doyoustillintend,whenyouarefullyrecovered,toremovetoBalfour?”heasked.
“I…donotyetknow,”Elizaadmitted.
TheywerealreadyhalfwaythroughFebruary,andElizamighthaveaslittleaseightmoreweeksofMargaret’scompanybeforeshewouldbeneededelsewhere.AsmuchasElizafeltmoreathomeinBathwitheachday,theideaofremainingwithoutMargaret,offindinganewcompanion,wasstillfartoodauntingtocontemplate.
“Isee.”
Somersetlookeddowntohishat,whichhestillheldbetweenhishands,andbegantoturnitslowlybetweenthem.Thegesturewasafamiliarone.Oneheusedtomakewheneverhewasnervousbuttryingtocontainit.Elizacouldrememberhim,vividly,turninghishatthefirsttimehehadevercalleduponher,attheBalfour’sresidenceinLondon.
“Iknowthat…”Somersetbeganagain,staringbackathisturninghat,“thatthenatureofourpastacquaintancecausesalittleawkwardness,inourpresentcircumstances.”
“Itisperhapsnotanidealsituation,”Elizasaid,hermouthverydry.
“Itiscertainlynotthat,”Somersetsaid,lookingup.“AndIshouldnotliketothinkofthatawkwardnesspreventingyoufromresidingatHarefield,ifyouwishit.Therewillalwaysbeaplaceforyouthere,Ipromise.”
Itwassolikehimtomakesuchapromise.Healwayshadbeenincurablyhonorable.
“Thankyou,”Elizasaid,andshemeantit.“ButwearehappyhereinBath.IthasprovidedachangeofscenerythatneitherBalfournorHarefieldcouldhave.”
Somersetnodded.
“Icanunderstandthat—Icanseethatitwouldbedifficulttobesoconstantlyremindedofhim,”hesaidquietly.
Elizaremainedquiet.Shewasconsciousofadesire,improperintheextreme,toconfesstoSomersetexactlyhowlittlelovetherehadexistedbetweenherselfandherhusband.Totellhimthat,intheyearstheyhadbeenwed,nowarmthhadgrownbetweenthem,thatthegulfseparatingthemhadonlygrownmoreglacialwitheverymonththatpassedwithoutachild.Butitwouldbeimproper.Andhewouldnotwanttohearit,anyway.
ThesoundofloudfootstepsonthestairsheraldedthereturnofMargaret,andassheentered,Somersetstood.
“Nosmellingsalts?”heasked,aslightsmileuponhisface.
“Oh,myforgetfulmind!”Margaretsaidairily.“Youarenottakingyourleavealready,Somerset?”
“IamafraidIam,”hesaid.“Praydonotstand,LadySomerset.”
Hisdutyseento,hishonorablemissionachieved,hehadnoreasontoprolonghisvisit.Elizatriednottobedisappointed.
“DoyoureturntoHarefieldtonight?”Elizaasked.
“Nottonight.IhavemorebusinesstoattendtowithMr.Walcotinthemorning,”Somersetsaid,afterabriefpause.Heturnedhishatoncemoreinhishands,thenadded:“Perhaps—perhapsImaycalluponyouagain,tomorrow,ifitwouldbeconvenient?”
“Itwould,”Elizasaid,tampingdownexcitementspringingwithinher.“Itwouldindeed.”
Somersetbowedhishead.“ThenIwillseeyoutomorrow,LadySomerset,MissBalfour.”
Thecousinswaiteduntiltheyheardthefrontdoorclose.ThenMargaretdartedtothewindowembrasuretowatchSomerset’sdeparturedownthestreet.
“Heisgone!”shedeclared.“Whatdidyouspeakof,whenIwasabsent?Itriedtolistenonthestairs,butyourvoicesweretooquiet.”
“Notagreatdeal,”Elizasaid,feelingdazed.Hadwhatjustoccurred,trulyjustoccurred?“HereassuredmeIwouldbewelcomeatHarefieldifIwishedtoreturn.”
“Whichyoudon’t,”Margaretchecked.
“WhichIdon’t,”Elizaagreed.“Thoughitwasmostkindofhimtosuggestit.Didheseem…concernedtoyou,whenhethoughtIwasill?”
“Ishouldsayso;mostworried,”Margaretsaid.
“Andrelieved,whenheheardIwaswell?”Elizasaid.
“Veryrelieved,”Margaretconfirmedwithasharpnod.
“Andhemeanstoreturn,tomorrow,”Elizasaid,halfthinkingshemighthaveimaginedit.
Perhaps,then,hedidnotnothingherafterall.Elizapressedahandtohermouth,totrytopreventherselfsmiling.Donot,shetriedtotellherself,makethemistakeofbecominghopefulnow.Hespenthalfthevisitchastisingyou,forgoodness’sake.
Buthewaskind,asmaller,dreamiervoiceprotested.Andhemeanstoreturn.
“Doyouthink—”Elizabrokeoff.
“DoIthink…?”
“It’sjust…hismannerwassomuchthewarmer,bytheend,”Elizasaid.“Perhapsitisasignthathemight,oneday…forgiveme?”
“Heforgiveyou?”Margaretsaidwithasuddenfrown.“Whateverfor?”
“Margaret,youknow‘whateverfor.’?”
“Idonotatallunderstandwhyyoustillfeelsoguilty,”Margaretsaidstoutly.“Itwasanimpossiblesituationforyouboth,butitwasonlyyouwhohadtobeartheconsequences—marryingthatoldgoatwhileheremainedfreeandunencumbered.”
“Hejoinedthenavy,Margaret,”Elizapointedout.“Idonotthinkyoucancallthatfreeandunencumbered.”
“Ohpish,jaunteringabouttheAtlanticwithaboatoffriends?”Margaretsaid.“Manypersonswouldpayforsuchadiversion.”
Margaret’sunderstandingofthenavywasdemonstrablyratherlimited.
“IhavealwaysbeenfondofSomerset,”shecarriedon.“Butifhestillbearsresentmentoverthematteryearslater,thenheiscertainlynotworthasinglethoughtmore.”
“Perhapsweoughthaveanuncheon,”Elizasaid,risingfromthesofatoringthebell.
Shedidnotwanttoargue.MargarethadalwaysbeenEliza’sfiercestdefenderandElizalovedherforit—butshehadnotbeenthere,whenSomersethadheardofEliza’sbetrothal.Ifshehad,shemightbetterunderstandwhyElizastillfeltsuchremorse.
“Mylady.”Perkinshadappearedoncemoreatthedoor.“AdeliveryfromMr.Fasanahasarrivedanditbeing—ah—afairsightlargerthanprevious,Iwaswonderingwhereyoumightwishmeto…?”
“Oh!”Elizasaid,recollectingtheverylargenumberandsizeofpurchasesshehadmadethatmorning.“Perhapsyououghttoplacetheminhere,forthetimebeing.”
Perkinspauseddelicately.“Andtheeasel,too?”
Elizalookedaround.Thedrawingroomalreadyboastedapianoforte,andtheadditionofaneaselwouldmakethespacerathercrowded—anddoubtlessencouragequestionsfromanyvisitorthatentered.VisitorssuchasSomerset,tomorrow.
Hemeanstoreturn.
“Perhapsitoughttoallgointheparlor,instead,”shesaid,butabstractedly.“Itisnorth-lit,afterall.”
Perkinsnoddedbriskly.Withcharacteristicefficiency,itdidnottakehimaboveanhourtorearrangethefirst-floorparlor:removingtwochairsinordertoaccommodatethelargeeaselwhichhehadplacedalittlebackfromthewindow,soElizacouldenjoythenaturallightwhilstremainingunobservedfrompassersby;clearingthebookshelvestoallowforallofEliza’sportfolios,fullandempty,tobearrangedneatlywithin;andpurloiningasmallbureaufromthedrawingroomtohouseherpaints.WithEliza’smindfullofagitation,itprovedtheperfectdistraction,andwhileMargaretreadherbook,curledupuponthesofa,Elizatestedhernewoils.Atonce,theroomwasfilledwiththeirsharp,acidicscent,asmellthattransportedElizasoabruptlybacktoherchildhoodthatshehadtoblinkbacksudden,joyfultearsasshecoveredthecanvaswithagroundlayerofyellowochre.SoonshewouldcaptureBath’seveninglightwiththatcreamyroseateandbeginaportraitofMargaretwiththecarminethatperfectlymatchedherredlocks;butfornow,inthefadingafternoonlight,Elizaresealedtheoils—whichcameinstripsofbladdertiedattheneckasasuetpudding—withatackandmovedbacktopencilandwatercolor,sketchingfrommemorythescenesfromtheconcert:Melville’sexpressionasheflirtedwithLadyHurley,Mr.Fletcher’sannoyance,Mrs.Winkworth’sjudgingeyes.
BythetimeElizaatlastputasidehermaterials,thefireinthegratehadalmostburneditselfout,hereyeswerebeginningtostrain,andshefeltcalmenough,atlast,toretiretobed.
Tomorrow,shevowedassheundressed,shewouldbeprepared.Shewouldnotbefoundstoopedonthegroundasthoughsheweresomegrubbyurchin.Shewouldbecalmandcollectedandcomposedandallwouldgowell.8
Thoughthetraditionalhoursofcalling—betweenmiddayandthreeo’clockintheafternoon—leftplentyofthedayremaining,sheandMargaretdidnotattendtoanyoftheirusualerrands.Instead,tobesurenottomissSomerset’svisitnomatterwhattimehecalled,theyarrangedthemselvespatientlyinthedrawingroomtoawaithisarrival.
“Whatdoyouthinkyouwillspeakof?”Margaretasked,frombesideher.
“Theusualsubjects,Isuppose,”Elizasaid.Shehadcompiledjustsuchalistthatmorning.“Ishallaskhimfornewsofhisfamily,ofLondon,of…”
Margaretmadeaface.
“Whatdidyouusedtospeakof?”sheaskednext.“Whenyouwerecourting,Imean.”
“Whenwewerefirstacquainted?”Elizasaid.“Wespokeofbooks,ourfriendsincommon,theprogressofthewar.”
“Andthen?”Margaretprompted.
Andthen…Somewherethroughthesnatchedpiecesofconversation,attheballs,atthegardenparties,atthetheater,hisnaturalreserveandhernaturalshynesshadeasedsufficientlyforthemtodiscovernotonlytheanalogousturnoftheirminds,butthedepthoftheirmutualregard.
“Whathasyousointerestedintheaffair?”Elizasaid,insteadofanswering.Toindulgeinsuchnostalgicyearningnowwouldonlyservetomakehermorenervous.
“Havingnopastlovesofmyown,Iamleftwithnooptionbuttotakeaninterestinyours,”Margaretsaid,shrugging.
“Haveyoutrulyneverhadadecidedpartialityforanyone?”Elizaasked.
“TherewerecertainlythoseIenjoyedflirtingwith,”Margaretsaid,consideringthematter.“Butcertainlynotenoughtoseriouslyconsideranyofthem.Isuppose,tobearichwidow,asyouare,isaspirational—butcouldoneeverbecertainofthegentlemandyingearlyenough?”
“NotwithoutriskingaratherlongvisittoNewgatePrison,”Elizasaid.
Theclockstrucktwelve.Therewasasoundfrombelow.Thedoor.
Elizastood.Shehaddressedverycarefullytoday,inarobeofclingingblackcrêpe—madedemurebyitshighcollar—andshesmoothedahanddownthefrontofhergown.
“Youlookverybecoming,”Margaretwhispered.
ElizacouldhearPerkins’smurmuringvoice,thenfootstepsuponthestairs.Shehadinstructedhimmostfirmlytobringupvisitorsassoonasthey—he—arrived.Shetookadeepbreath.Today,therewasnothingtobenervousabout.Itwassimplyamorningvisit.Itwaseverythingofthemostusual.
Perkinsopenedthedoor.
“LordMelvilleandLadyCarolineMelville,mylady,”heannounced.
“No!”Elizablurtedout,utterlythrown.
“Goodafternoon!”Margaretattemptedtocoverthisgaffe.
“Goodafternoon,”Melvillesaidashewanderedintotheroom,asomewhatquizzicallookinhiseyes.“Wereyouexpectingsomeoneelse?”
“N-no,ofcoursenot.Wearenotexpectinganyone!”Elizasaid,tooloudbyfar.
“Melville,yousaidwehadbeeninvited,”LadyCarolinesaid,turningtoherbrother.
“Wehad!”Melvillesaid.“ThoughnowIreflectonit…Perhapsonlytangentially.”
Ifthat!Elizahadmerelymentionedthepossibility,inpassing.
“Oughtwetoleave?”LadyCarolineasked,raisingabrowinquestionatEliza.
Elizawantedmorethananythingtobeabletoanswerhonestly.SomersetmightarriveatanymomentandElizadidnotfeelatallpreparedtojuggletwosuchdisparatesetsofvisitors—letalonewhatSomersetmightthink,ifheweretofindElizasippingteawithtwoofthemostaccomplishedflirtsinEngland.
“No,no,ofcoursenot!”Elizasaidinstead,twistingherhandsintoherskirts.“Please,dositdown.Mayweofferyourefreshment?”
“Thatwouldbeverykind,”LadyCarolinesaid,fallinggracefullyintothechairoppositeEliza,whileMelville,ignoringEliza’sinvitation,wanderedovertothewindowtolookoutonthestreetbelow.
“Charming!”hesaid.
ElizastaredhelplesslyatLadyCaroline,withoutasinglethoughtinherhead.Withothervisitors,shemightcommentonthedisappointingnatureoftoday’spallidgreysky,butknowingLadyCarolinealreadythoughtherinsipiddidnotendearsuchasubjecttoher.
“Ioweyouanapology,mylady,MissBalfour,”LadyCarolinespokefirst,intheend.“Melvilleinformsmethatyouoverheardourterriblyrudeconversationattheassembly.Howchurlishwewere—Idon’tknowhowyoucouldeverforgiveus!”
“Wehaven’t,”Margaretsaidpromptly,beforeElizacouldanswer.“Perhapsintime.”
Elizaheldbackagroan,butLadyCarolinedidnotlookoffended.Rather,shewaslookingMargaretslowlyover,asifrecalculatingherinsomeway.
“Youhaveteeth,”shesaidapprovingly.
“Thirtyofthem,I’mtold,”Margaretshotback.
“AndyettherewerenonetobeseenonWednesdaynight.”
“OnWednesdaynightIwasonmybestbehavior.”
“Ahorrendousaffliction,”LadyCarolinesaid.“Iampleasedtofindyounowcuredofit.”
Theysmiledateachother.Thatis,Elizachosetothinkofitassmiling,andnot,asmightperhapsbemoreaccurate,baringtheirteeth.
“MayIofferyouarefreshment?”Elizasaidagain,asPerkinssweptbackintotheroom.Histrayofrefreshments,normallyagloriouslyladenaffair,wassparserthanusual,withonlyapotofcoffee,andslicesofcakeandfruit.Seeingthis,Elizasenthimalookofspeakinggratitude,whichhereturnedonlywiththeslightestofnods—shecouldalwaystrustPerkinstobeawakeoneverysuit.Now,shemusthurrytheMelvillesthroughthevisitasquicklyaspossible.Itwasonlytwelve;therewasnoreasonthatthetwovisitsneedoverlapinanyway.
“Doyoutakemilk,mylord?”Elizasaid,handingLadyCarolineacup.
“Iamdisappointed,”Melvillesaid,fromwherehewasnowexaminingthepaintingonthewall,afinelandscapeshehadpurchasedfromanartistdisplayinghisworkatthePumpRoomlastweek.
“Oh,wellifyouwouldprefertea,Ican…”Elizabegan.
“Ihopedtofindthewallsbedeckedwithyourownartwork,”Melvillesaid,asifElizahadnotspoken.“ButIdonotthinkthisisyourhand.”
“No,no,ofcourseitisnot,”Elizasaid,surprisedthatMelvillehadrememberedsuchadetail.“ThatisfarsuperiortoanythingIcouldachieve.”
“Youdraw?”LadyCarolinesaid,regardingElizaovertherimofhercup.
“Alittle,”Elizasaid.
“Shepaintstoo—beautifully,”Margaretputin.
“Watercolors?”LadyCarolineasked.
“Andoil,alittle,”Elizaadmitted.
“Impressive.Itisnotamediumofttaughttowomen.”LadyCarolinelookedatElizaandthentoMargaret.“Youarebothagreatdealmoreinterestingthanyoufirstappear.”
Elizawasnotsurethiswasacompliment,soshesippedathercupratherthananswer.
“Iamnotsurethatisacompliment,”Margaretsaid.
“IamnotsureImeantitasone,”LadyCarolinereturned.“Yououghtnottobehidingit.”
Theconversationwasrunningawayfromthem—andMelvillehadstillnotsatdown;instead,hewasnowinspectingthebookshelves.
“Mylord,canIinterestyouinsomeplumcake?”Elizaasked,desperately.
“Well,whereareallthesepaintings?”heasked.“Iseenosignofthemhere,atall.”
“Shehasstacksofthemupstairs,”Margaretputin.Elizaglaredather.
“MayIsee?”Melvillesaidimmediately.
Elizashookherhead.“Youwillforgive,Ihope,myreserve.IamnotinthehabitofsharingmypaintingswiththoseIbarelyknow,”shesaid.
“Thenweshallsimplyhavetogettoknowoneanother,”Melvillesaid,atlastmovingtowardthesofa.Elizalookedtotheclock.Theywerebackonschedule.Everythingwouldbefine.
Ofcourse,itwasatthismomentthatElizaheardtheunmistakablesoundofhoovesfromoutsideandjerkedherheadwildlytowardthedoor.
“Goodlord,whateveristhematter?”LadyCarolineasked.
“ThatmustbeSomerset,”Margaretblurtedout.Elizalookedtoherinpanic—howonearthwasshetomanagesuchanencounterinfrontoftheMelvilles?AndwouldSomersetbeshocked,disapprovingeven,tofindElizainsuchunusualcompany?ShewishedLadyCarolinedidnotlooksoverybeautiful,inherfashionableLondondress—thelikelihoodofhisfallingimmediatelyinlovewithherseemedverygreatindeed.
“Oh,afamilyvisit,then,”LadyCarolinesaid.
“Heisnotfamily,”Elizarefutedinstinctively.
LadyCarolinequirkedacuriousbrowandElizaflushedagainatherrudeness.
“Thatistosay,”shesaidhurriedly,“sincehehasbeenawaysolong,itdoesnotfeel…”
Elizacranedherears,tryingtomakeoutsoundfrombelow,buttonoavail.
“Youarenotwellacquainted?”LadyCarolineasked.
“Notassuch,”Elizasaid.“WhenhewasMr.Courtenay,wh-whenhewasinEngland,”Elizahadturnedintoagabster,itseemed,“butonlyalittle!Andthatwasofcoursemanyyearsagonow,and—”
“Ishallbeveryinterestedtohearmoreofhistravels,”Margaretcutinfirmly,beforeElizacouldofferanymoreunnecessary,nervousdetail.“Hewillhavesomeexcitingtales,nodoubt.”
“Shouldn’tgetyourhopesup,”Melvilleadvisedher.“Ihearhe’sadrearyfellow.”
“Heisnot,”ElizasaidhotlyandbothLadyCaroline’seyebrowsrosenow.
TherewasthesoundofaloudknockfromdownstairsandElizalookedreflexivelyandeagerlytowardthedoor.
“Oh,Isee,”LadyCarolinesaid,soundingverymuchasifshedid.“Come,Melville,wemustbegoing,”shesaid,standing.
“ButIhavenotyethadanycake,”Melvilleobjected.
“Oh,donotfeelyouhavetoleave…”Elizasaid.
Somerset’svoicecouldbeheardbelow,andPerkins’stoo.
“IhaverecalledsomeerrandsImustfulfilurgently,”LadyCarolinesaidfirmly.“Comealong,Melville.”
Elizacouldnottellifsheweremoremortifiedorgrateful.Howembarrassingitwastohavebeenreadsoeasily,andyethowkindofLadyCarolinetohelp.
“TheEarlofSomerset,mylady,”Perkinsannounced.
Somersethesitatedonthedoorwayforamoment,seemingstartledbythefullnessoftheroom.
“Goodday,mylord,”Elizasaid,voicetremulous.Therewasnowaytoavoidit.“MayIintroduceyoutoLordMelvilleandLadyCarolineMelville?”
“Goodday,”Somersetsaid.Halfwaythroughabow,thenameseemedtoregisterproperlyinhismind.“Melville?”herepeated.
“Yes,doyouknowme?”Melvillesaid,inclininghisheadinreturn.
“Onlybyreputation,mylord,”Somersetsaidobliquely.
“Ah,itstretchesallthewaytotheAmericas,now,doesit?”Melvilleasked.“Howmarveloustohavetransatlanticreachatlast.”
Somerset’sexpressionflattened.Hehadalwaysdisapprovedofgentlemenwhotrifledwithwomen’saffections.
“MarvelousisnotthewordIwouldhavechosen,”Somersetsaidslowly.
ElizacouldnottellifMelvillehadperceivedthecoldnessinSomerset’svoice,butifhehadhedidnotseematallbothered.
“Iadmireamanwithstrongviewsonvocabulary,”hesaid,inapparentcompliment.“Whatthinkyouthenof‘remarkable’?Or‘pioneering’?”
Somerset’sexpressionhardenedevenfurther.
“No—Ihaveit—‘extraordinaire’!”Melvillesaid.“Ifyoudon’tmindborrowingfromtheFrench?”
“Wewerejusttakingourleave,”LadyCarolinesaid,cuttingin.
“Notonmyaccount,Ihope,”Somersetsaid.
“No,weareinpursuitofanurgent—thoughasofyetunnamed—errand,”Melvillesaid,affordingElizaajauntybow.“LadySomerset.LordSomerset.MissBalfour.”
Theyleft.Therewasalong,longpauseintheirwake.
“IhadnotrealizedLordMelvillewasinBath,”Somersetsaid,frowningtowardthedoorasiftheMelvilleswerestillstandingthere.
“HeandLadyCarolinearrivedonlyrecently,”Elizahastenedtomakeclear.“Wouldyouliketotakeaseat?”
“Andyouarewellacquainted?”Somersetsaid,sitting.
“Notatall,”Elizasaid.
“Thoughtheyappearbentonchangingthat,”Margaretadded,apleasedcurvetoherlips.
“Isee,”Somersetsaid.
“IseverythingatHarefieldwell?”Elizaasked,addingquickly,“Iforgottoask,yesterday.”
Pleasantrieswouldsurelysettlethestrainedatmosphereintheroom.
“Yes,verywell,”Somersetsaid,thoughhisbrowwasstillfurrowed.“WearerenovatingtheEastWing—thedampwasgettingalittle…”PerceivingthatthiscouldbetakenasaninsultbyHarefield’sformermistress,hehastenedtoadd,“Socommon,ofcourse,intheseancienthouses!”
Butitwasnotthatpartofthesentencethatshehadnoticed.
“We?”sheasked,unabletohelpherself.
“Yes,”hesaid.“Thestewardisoverseeing,ofcourse.”
“I’mgladtohearit,”shesaid,muchrelieved.Ofcourse:hecouldn’thavemarried,orevenbecomeengaged,withoutherknowing—whatafoolishfeartohavecrossedhermind.“ThoughIhopeitshallnotmakeyouuncomfortable,tohavesuchindustryaroundyou.”
“Ishouldnotthink—”Somersetstartedtosay,beforeabruptlychangingtack.“Thatis,yes,itisliketobemostdisruptive.IshallberemaininginBathforthefortnight,toavoidtheworstofthedisorder.”
Foramoment,Elizathoughtshemighthavemisheard.
“You—youwill?”shestammered.“Ididnotknow;youmadenomentionofityesterday.”
“Yesterday,Ididnotyetknowoftheextentoftherepairs,”hereplied.
“Whatfortuitoustiming,”Margaretsaidblandly,andElizaknewthatshe,too,suspectedSomersetofsomedissimulation.Butwhyshouldhelie?Unlessitwasbecause—unlessitwasfor—
Butthatwassurelywishfulthinking.
“Itwillbeeasiertoconductbusinessfromhere,anyhow,”Somersetsaidcalmly.“AndIshouldliketobecloseto…”
TherewasthetiniestofpausesandElizacaughtherbreath.
“Mysister,”Somersetfinished.“ShelivesonlyfivemilessouthofBath,ifyouremember.”
“Yes,ofcourse,”Elizasaid.“Well,Iamsurewearemostpleasedtohearsuchnews.”
Itwasanunderstatement.Eliza’ssurprisewasgivingwaytogiddiness.Afortnight!Twowholeweeksofhispresence…
“MyvaletistofetchmoreofmythingsfromHarefield,”Somersetsaid,andhisvoicewaslighternow.“IdidwanttoaskiftherewasanythingyoushouldliketobebroughttoBath?Youtooksolittlewithyou,thoughitwasyourhomeforsomanyyears.”
Elizafeltapanginherchest.Hewassokind.
“Icouldnotpossibly,”Elizademurred.
“Youcould,”hesaid.“Infact,Iinsistyoumusttakesomething.”
Eliza’smindwentbrieflytohergrandfather’sseascapehanginginherparlor,thefinestpieceofartworkinHarefield,notthatitwasdisplayedatalltoitsadvantage,beforedismissingitimmediately.Itwastoovaluable,andwhileSomersetmightnotknowitsworth,LadySelwyncertainlywould.
“Whatisit?”Somersetasked.Healwayshadbeenabletoreadhersoeasily.“Youmusttellme.”
ButElizacouldnotriskSomerseteverthinkinghermercenary.
“TheteapotintheEastDrawingRoom,”shesaid,thinkingofhernextfavoriteitemfromthehouse.“Ifnooneelse…”
Asmilespreadacrosshisface,hisfirstoftheafternoon.
“Ateapot?Youdoknowthatwasyouropportunitytoaskforthefamilydiamonds,don’tyou?”hesaidteasingly.Itwasnotatoneshehadeverexpectedtohearfromhimagain,andhercheekswarmed.
“Ifyou’deverdrunkitstea,youwouldunderstand,”shesaid.
“PerhapsthenIoughttotryit,beforeIagree,”hesaid.Then,entreating,“AreyousureIcannotpersuadeyoutotakeanythingofgreatervalue?”
Sheshookherheadandhissmilewidened.
“Howlikeyoutoaskforsomethingsosmall,”hesaid,“towantsolittleforyourself.”
Elizacouldhavetoldhimthatitwasnotselflessness,thattherewasnothingshewantedlessthantheoppressiveweightofthefamilydiamondsaboutherneck,butshewouldnot,notwhenhewaslookingatherlikethat.Ashehadusedtolookatherbeforeeverythingfellapart.
“Youhavenotchanged,”hesaid.
Theirsmilesfadedastheylookedatoneanother,theweightofallthathadhappened,allthattheyhadoncebeentooneanother,seemedtopressheavilyuponthemboth.
“Ishouldnotmindthediamonds,ifnooneelsewantsthem,”Margaretsaid,breakingthemoment.
“Iseethatyou,too,areunchanged,MissBalfour,”Somersetsaid,shakinghisheadwithasmile.“Yourhumorisaslivelyasever.”
“TherearesomethingseventheBathwaterscannotcure,”Elizasaid,andMargaretlaughed,butSomerset’ssmilefaded.
“Andhowisyourhealth?”heaskedElizaseriously,asonemightabedriddenandancientaunt.
“Iamwell,”Elizasaid.
“Doesshenotlookwell?”Margaretasked.
Elizashotheraquellinglook.
“Shedoes.Youdo,”Somersetsaidquietly,lookingElizaover.“Anewgown?”
“Yes,”Elizasaid,mouthdry.
“Itsuitsyou,”hesaid,anditwasacomplimentnolessvaluedforitssimplicity.“Areyoustillpartakingofthewaters?”
“Yes,”Elizasaid.“Thoughasmuchtovisitwithournewfriendsasanythingelse.”
“Newfriends,”Somersetrepeated.“AnddoyoucounttheMelvillesassuch?”
“No,”Elizahastened.
“Yes,”Margaretsaidatthesametime.
Somersetfrownedagain.
“Thatis,”Elizaclarified.“Wehaveonlymetthemahandfuloftimes,soIamnotsureIwouldcall…”
“Ishouldnotliketooverstep,mylady,”Somersetsaid.“ButIwouldurgecautionwheretheMelvillesareconcerned.ThetalesIhaveheard…”
Thedeliberatewayinwhichhewasspeaking,asifchoosinghiswordsverycarefully,tickledEliza’scuriosity.
“Thesetalesarescandalousinnature?”sheasked,notwantingtoseemtooeagerfordetails—buteagerforthem,nonetheless.WhathadSomersetheardaboutMelville,insoshortastayinthecountry?
“TheyarenottalesIwillrepeatinfrontofladies,”hesaidfirmly.
“Howdull,”Margaretmuttered.AndthoughElizaadmiredSomerset’ssenseofpropriety,shecouldnothelpbutprivatelyagreewithher.
“IwillmerelysaythatIwouldnotrecommendsuchafriendship,”Somersetsaid.“Awomanofyour…Awomaninyourpositionoughttobecareful.”
TheprotectiveconcernwaswarmingandElizawasbrieflytemptedtoencourageit—butno,thatwouldbetoounfair.
“TheMelvillesarelively,”shesaid.“Butinouracquaintance,limitedthoughitis,thatistheextentoftheirimpropriety.”
Therewasnoneedtomentionthecarriagecrash,northeoverheardinsults,forbotheventsseemed,allofasudden,farinthepast—irrelevant,even,inthefaceofthejoySomersethadjustvisiteduponher.Twowholeweeks.
“IfyouspendlongerintheircompanyIamsureyouwillagree,”sheadded.
“IsupposeIshallseeformyself,”Somersetsaid,thoughwitharaiseofhiseyebrowsthatsuggestedhedoubtedit.
Theclockstruckone.Somersetstoodtotakehisleave.
“Iwillbidyougoodday,”hesaid.“YouintendtovisitthePumpRoomtomorrowmorning?”
“Yes,wedo,”Elizasaideagerly.
“Ishallfindyouthere,”hesaid.Hegaveashortbow,thenleft.
“Oh,mygoodness,”Elizasaid,oncetheyhadconclusivelyheardthefrontdoorclosebehindhim.Hewasstaying.Hewasstayingandshewouldseehimagain—tomorrow.“Oh,mygoodness.”
“MattersinBathareabouttogetveryinteresting,indeed,”Margaretsaid,soundingquiteasgleefulasacatmight,uponconsumingalargejugofcream.9
ThatElizasleptatallthatnightwasnothingshortofamiracle.Shecouldnot,forthelongesttime,andendedup—ashadbecomesomethingofahabit,thispastweek—takingherportfoliotobedwithher,hopingthatthelullofpenciluponpaperwouldsoothehermind.ButthoughsheintendedtocapturetheeleganceofCamdenPlace,ortheexteriorviewofthePumpRoom,bothcalming,warmimages,everytimeshetried,sheinsteadfoundherselfsketchingthedrawingroomthatday:Margaret’sslysmileasshesparredwithLadyCaroline,Melville’sattentiveeyesuponherbookshelves,andSomerset…Againandagain,Somerset.Hishandsclenchingathishat,thefurrowofhisbrow,howhehadlooked,teasingher…
Shefellasleepstillclutchingitinherhands,causingPardletocluckoverthecharcoalsmudgesithadleftonhersheets.
“Thebombazine,today,mylady?”Pardleasked.
“Ithinkthesilk,instead,”Elizadecided.ItwasfarfinerthananyElizawouldusuallyweartothePumpRoom,ofcourse,butgiventheveryspecialoccasionthattodaymarked,itseemedonlyappropriate.HereagernesstohaveSomersetonceagainwithinhersightswasunequalled,andshehadtwicetoremindherselfthattheneedforsuchurgencyhadelapsed.ShemightseehimeverydayuntilMarch,now,atthePumpRoom,theAssemblyRooms,atchurch…Afteryearsofscarcity,itseemedanembarrassmentofriches,andteno’clockcouldnotcomesoonenough.Astheclockstruckquarterto,ElizaandMargaretsetout,windingtheirwaythroughBath’scobbledstreetswithasmuchbrisknessaswasacceptableinladiesofquality.
Theystoodattheentrance,biddingpolitegooddaystohalfadozenacquaintances,whileElizascannedtheroomfranticallyforSomerset.Atlast,shelaideyesuponhim,standinginthemiddleoftheroom,speakingwithMrs.andMissWinkworth.
“Poorman,”Margaretobserved.Elizaheartilyagreedandmadeasiftostepforward,butMargaretseizedherarm.
“Thenwewillbeembroiledinconversationwithhertoo,”shesaid,shakingherhead.“Lethimcometous.”
“Howonearthhavetheybeenintroducedsoquickly?”Elizabemoaned,tryingtocatchSomerset’seye.Itwasnotconsideredgoodmannerstosimplywalkuptoapersonandbeginspeaking,onewaitedfor,orrequestedfromamutualacquaintance,aformalintroduction.AsthiswasarulethatMrs.Balfourinsisteduponinothers,butbelievedherselfexemptfrom,itwasperhapsunsurprisingthatMrs.Winkworthfeltthesame.ElizacouldonlyhopeSomersethadnotbeenoffendedbyherencroachingnature.
“IimagineMrs.Winkworthonlyneededtonoticehissignetringtomakeherownintroductions,”Margaretsuggested,herthoughtshavingtraveledinasimilardirection.
“PerhapsIwillinvitehimtowalkwithustomorrow,”ElizawhisperedtoMargaret,astheystoodwaiting.“LadyHurleymentionedthatsheoftenwalksinSydneyGardensaftertheSundayserviceandsowecouldallpromenade,together.”
Thehalcyonvisionfilledhermind’seye,justasSomersetlookedupandnoticedthematlast.ExcusinghimselffromtheWinkworths,heapproached,appearingtoElizaeventallerandbroaderandfairerthanhehadthedaybefore,thesunstreaminginthroughthelargewindowsgildinghimingoldenlight.
“Goodday,mylady,MissBalfour,”hesaid.Hiseyesmovedbrieflyand—perhaps?—appreciativelyoverEliza’sdress.“Youarelookingwell.”
“Thankyou,”shesaid.Thesilkhadbeentherightchoice.“IseeyouhavemettheWinkworths.”
“Yourneighbors,asIunderstandit,”hesaid,nodding.“AccordingtoMrs.Winkworth,Ihaveapparentlymetthembothbefore,attheopera,thoughasIhavenomemoryofthatencounter—andasMissWinkworthcouldnothavebeenmorethaneightyearsoldatthetime,Icannothelpbutwonderatitsveracity.”
Margaretsnorted.
“Ihopetheywerenottooforward,”Elizasaid.
“Theywereperfectlycharming,”Somersetsaid.“ThoughMrs.Winkworthdidcriticizeherdaughter’sposture,atgreatlength.”Hepaused,andadded,delicately,“Youknow,IhavethestrangestfeelingthatMrs.Winkworthremindsmeofsomeone…”
ElizasawateasingsmilequiveringatthecornerofSomerset’smouthandfoundherownlipscurvinginhelplessimitation.
“Ihadthesamefeeling,uponfirstmeetingher,”Elizasaid,tryingtokeephervoicesteady.
“Ithoughtyoumight.”
Eliza,inordinatelypleasedtofindthatSomerset’sreservehadeasedevenfurthersincetheirlastmeeting,couldbarelycontainasmile.Thefortnightstretchedaheadofher,andsheimaginedahundredofencounterssuchasthis,withSomersetallthewhilegrowingevermoreeasyinherpresence.
“HaveyoumetwithMr.Walcottoday?”sheasked.
“Ihave,yes,muchashemightwishmeatJericho,”Somersetsaid.“Thereismuchtolearnaboutthebusinessofbeingalandlord,ifIamtoperformthedutywell.”
Thereweremanygentlemenwhovaluedlandonlyforthewealthandprivilegesitaffordedthem,butfarfewerwhoplacedthedutiestheyowedtotheirconstituentsinhigherimportance.ItdidnotsurpriseElizathatSomersetbelongedtothissecondgroup.
“IamfortunatethatMr.Walcothasthepatienceofaphilosopher,”headded,withaself-deprecatinggrimace.
Elizaraisedherbrows.Thathadnotbeenquiteherexperience.
“IhavenodoubtthatIamtheslowerpupil,”sheassuredSomerset,wryly.InhersecondmeetingwithMr.Walcot,thishadbeenmadeverycleartoher.
“Isyourfathernolongertakingcareofyourbusinessforyou?”Somersetasked.
“No,butIamtomeetwithalandagentnextweek,”Elizasaid.“Ihaveagreatmanyquestionsforhim.Hemaythinkmeparticularlystupid.”
Poringdutifullyovertheverydrytextsshehadtakenfromthelibraryhadimpresseduponherquitehowmuchtherewastoknow.
“Don’tbefoolish,Eliza,”Margaretsaid.“YouarefarclevererthanhalfthelordsIknow.”
“Excludingpresentcompany,ofcourse,”Elizaaddedmeaningfully,withanodtoSomerset.Margaretturnedtoregardhim,asifsheplannedtoevaluatehisintelligencerightthereandthen.
“Ibegyousparemewhateverconclusionyoureach,MissBalfour,forIfeelsureyouarenotlikelytoflatterme,”Somersetsaid,voiceserious,buteyeshumorous.HeturnedtoEliza.“IagreethatLadySomersethasagoodmind,andagreatdealofcommonsense,although,ifIcaneverofferanyassistance…”
Elizahesitated.ShehadonceagainrefusedMr.Walcot’ssuggestionthatherfather,brother—oranymanatall—mightbebettersuitedtooverseeingthelands,andsheworriedthatacceptingassistancenowwouldamounttocapitulation.Ontheotherhand,suchaconferencewithSomerset—theirheadsbentcloselytogether,goingoveraccounts—mighthaveitsownappeal…
“Thatisverykind,”shesaid.“ThelandsatChepstow,inparticular,arealittleconfusing.”
Somersetfrownedthoughtfully.
“Perhapsyouwouldbebetteroffconsultingmybrother-in-lawonChepstow,”hesaid,“forthelandsborderwithhisown.”
SinceElizaheartilydislikedSelwynandsinceSelwynwouldundoubtedlyresentsuchaconsultationafteralltheunpleasantnesssurroundingthewill,thiswasanunwelcomesuggestion.
“Awonderfulthought,”Elizasaidmendaciously.“Ishallcertainlydosoatournextmeeting.”
“Youmaydosotoday,”Somersetsaid,“forhehasaccompaniedmysisteronavisittoBath—theretheyarenow!”
Elizaturnedandsaw,withdawningdread,thattheywereindeedbeingapproachedbyLordandLadySelwyn.
“LadySomerset!”Selwynboomed.“Howwonderfultoseeyou!”
TheyexchangedbowsandcurtseysandLadySelwynmadeapointoflookingElizaovertlyupanddown.
“Weweresoworriedtohearofyourillhealth,mylady,”shesaidwithtransparentinsincerity.“ButIseenowweneednothave.Youlookasfineasfivepence!”
ShemadeitsoundaninsultandElizaflushed.Thesilkhadbeenamistake.
“IhadnotrealizedyouwerevisitingBath,”Elizasaid.
“Oh,justfortheday,”LadySelwynsaid,withasharpsmile.“AssoonasIheardmybrotherintendedtoresideataninnforafortnight,Iknewitmysisterlydutytocomeandfetchhimaway!”
“MysisterbelievesthePelicantobesomesortofhell,”SomersetsaidtoEliza.“ButIamquitehappythere.Itisclosetomylawyer,myagentandallmylands.”
“AsisSancroft!”LadySelwyninsisted.“Andyouwillbeamongstfamily.HereyouknownobodyexceptLadySomerset.”
“YouareforgettingMissBalfour,”Somersetsaid.
“Howremissofme,”LadySelwynsaid,restinghercoldeyesuponMargaretforamoment,beforeseemingtodismissherexistenceentirely.“Yououghtatleastreturnwithusforashortvisit—thegirlswouldbedelightedtoseeyouagain.”
Atthementionofhisnieces,Somersetvisiblysoftened.
“AndIhear…”Selwynsaid,leaninginasifhewereabouttoimportagreatsecret,“thatCookispreparingvealtonight.”
Hegaveasignificantnod.Somersetlaughed.
“Idolikeveal,”hesaid.
Elizalookedon,frozen.TheSelwynsweregoingtotakehimaway!Hehadonlyjustarrived,hehadonlyjustbeguntoactnormallyinEliza’spresence,andnow,afteronlyonedayofthepromisedfortnight,theSelwynsweregoingtotakehimaway.Foravisittobeginwith,perhaps,butLadySelwyn’sself-satisfiedexpressiontoldElizathatonceSomersetwasinhissister’shome,hewouldnotbereturning.
“Come,LadySomerset,youmustaddyourentreaties,too,”LadySelwynsaid.“SurelyyouwillagreethatSomersetoughtnotbediningaloneatsuchaplace?Itwouldbefartootragic.”
Elizacouldnotletithappen.TheoldElizamighthavedone,mighthavemeeklyacceptedherfatenomatterhowunhappyitmadeher,butthenewElizawouldnot
“Intruth,”Elizasaidimpulsively,“Iwasabouttoask—toinviteSomersetfordinneratCamdenPlace,tointroducehimintosocietyalittle.Tonight.”
Tocounterofferinsuchawaywasimpolite,andSomerset’sbrowssnappedtogetherwhileLadySelwyn’seyesflickeredveryobviouslydowntoEliza’sblackgownbutElizaplungedon.
“NowIamtenmonthsintomymourning,mymotherhassuggestedIoughthostafewquietdinnersathome—justfiveorsixclosefriends,nothingintheleastformal.”
Hermotherhadrecommendednosuchthing,butifMrs.Balfour,thehigheststicklerimaginable,feltitacceptable,thensurelySomersetcouldhavenoobjection
“Ishouldnot,ofcourse,liketodepriveyouofavisittoSancroft,”Elizaadded.“ButifitisdiningalonethatLadySelwynwishesyoutoavoid…”
Somerset’sbrowcleared.
“Howfortuitous,”LadySelwynsaidsilkily.“MayIaskwhoelseisattending?”
Elizastaredather,stricken.
“Why,ofcourse,ourverydearfriends…”shebegan,mentallyflickingthroughallthepersonsshecouldhopetodependuponforadinnerpartythatveryeveningandlanding,unfortunately,upon…“TheWinkworths!Ourneighbors.Andofcourse,alsothe,ah…”
“Melvilles,”Margaretsaidsmoothly.
“Theearl?”LadySelwyndemanded.
“InBath?”Selwynsoundedthunderstruck.
“Yes—theyarerecentlyarrived,”Elizaconfirmed,tryingnottosoundalarmedherself.Somerset’sbrowshadre-furrowed.Blast.DidMargarethavetosaytheonefamilySomersetseemedalreadytodislike?TheonlypersonsoftheiracquaintancewithwhomSomersetmustcertainlynotwanttodine!
“Andweareservingveal,too,”sheaddeddesperately.
“Ishouldbedelightedtojoinyou,”Somersetsaid.“AndmysistercanresteasythatIamnottobeabandonedtothetablesofthePelican.”
Elizasmiledinrelief.TherewasapauseastheSelwynsandSomersetlookedatherexpectantly.Oh.
“Wewouldhaveofcourseinvitedyoutojoinus,hadweknownyouwerevisiting,”Elizasaidreluctantly.“ItisashameyouarereturningtoSancrofttonight.”
Itwasnotashame.
“Why,thatiseasilyresolved!”LadySelwynsaid.“Weshallsimplydelayourreturnuntilmorning—thePelicancaneasilyaccommodateus.”
“Awonderfulsuggestion,mydear,”Selwynsaid,andhehadstolenEliza’ssmile.“Whattimeshallwearrive?”
“WithBathhoursbeingsoearly,Ishouldnotimagineyouwillseatuslaterthansixo’clock,”LadySelwyninterjected.
Elizacouldnotseeawayout.Herquickthinkinghaddesertedher.
“Half—halfpastsix,”shesaidweakly.“Howdelightfulthatyouareabletojoinus.”
Andaftercurtseyingdeeply,sheandMargaretexcusedthemselves.
“Ibegyouwillnotthinkmeboorishlypractical,”Margaretsaid,astheywalkedaway.“ButmayIaskwhyyouhaveinvitedthemtowhatseems,byallaccounts,tobealargelyfictionalsoiree?”
“Youwerethere!”Elizahissedback.“TheSelwynsweregoingto—totempthimawaywithvealandIpanicked,Margaret,andIjustspoke—”
ThefullforceoftheconsequencesofsucharashinvitationbegantodawnonEliza.
“WhathaveIdone?”shesaid,stoppingonthetopstep.“Tohostadinnerparty,stillinfullmourning!Mymotherwillhavemyhead.Wemustcancelit,atonce.Oh,butthenSomersetwillgotoSancroftandtheSelwynswillbevictorious…Buthowonearthcanwenot?”
“Itwillbeallright,”Margaretsaidsoothingly,pullingonEliza’sarm.WhenElizadidnotobeyherpressure,Margaretcluckedhertongueasifshewereencouragingahorseandpulledharder.Elizabegantowalk.“Itisintheprivacyofourownhome,andhalfoftheattendeesarepracticallyfamily!”
Thatwasstretchingmatters,thoughElizacouldtakeherpoint,exceptthat.
“Wehavenootherguests,”Elizamoaned.
“YouwillgostraighttotheWinkworthsandthentotheMelvilles,”Margaretsaid.“IwillspeaktoPerkinsanditwillsoonnotbeintheleastfictional.”Margaretnudgedher.“Yes?”
“Yes,”Elizasaid,thankfully.“Yes!DidI—didIalsosaythatwewereservingveal?”
“Youdid,”Margaretsaid,pressingherlipstogetherasifsheweretryingnottolaugh.“EvenIthoughtthatwasbold.”
ItwasalmostelevenonaSaturday.ThechancesoftheircooksecuringacutofvealwereslimtononeandElizaletoutanotherdisconsolategroan.
AtCamdenPlace,sheandMargaretpartedways.Eliza—accompaniedbyaperplexedPardle—wentfirsttotheWinkworths,hopingtheinvitationcouldbequicklygivenandeasilyaccepted,butnoonewasathome.Elizaleftanotebeggingtheirpresenceandexcusingthelatenotice—ifMrs.Winkworthreceiveditintime,Elizaknewshewouldcome.Butifshedidnot…
ElizahastenednexttoLauraPlace,wheresherealizedshecouldnot,infact,rememberonwhichsideofLadyHurleytheMelvilleslived.Wasitnumberfourornumbereight?Shepaused,thinkingwildlyofdemandingPardlestartbangingondoors,whenthesoundofadooropeningmadeherturnherhead,toseeMelvillesteppingoutontothepavementofnumberfour,evidentlyspeakingtosomeoneoverhisshoulder.
“Melville!”Elizacried,brighteningimmediately.
Melvillegaveastart.
“GoodGod,”hesaid,lookingaroundatElizaandclutchingahandtohisheart.“Doyoumeantokillme?”
“Myapologies,”shesaid.
“TowhatdoIowethe—somewhatdubious—pleasure,mylady?”Melvillesaid,sweepinghishandsdownhistopcoatasiftobrushoffhissurprise.“Iwouldinviteyouinside,butyoufindmeonmywayintotown.”
“MayIescortyou?”Elizaasked—instantlyflushedattheawkwardphrasing.
“Escortme?”Melvillerepeated,amused.“Doyoumeantoprotectmyvirtuefrombandits?”
Butheofferedanarm,andElizatookitwithoutanswering.Theyfellintosteptogether,andElizaconsideredhowbesttowordherinvitation,ideallywithcharmingspontaneityratherthanhaplessdilatoriness.
“Iwashopeful,thisafternoon,ofpayingyouanothervisit,”hesaid.“Onethatmightlast,perhaps,alittlelongerthanthefirst.”
Inalltheexcitementoftheday,ElizahadentirelyforgottenabouttherushedconclusionoftheMelvilles’callandherfaceflamednowinrenewedmortification.
“Youhavemysincereapologies,”Elizasaid.“Itwasnotmyintentiontomakeyoufeelasthoughyouhadtocutyourvisitshort.”
“It’snomatter,”Melvillesaid.“Carolineexplainedtomethatyou’reinlovewithSomerset…I’mcurious;wouldyoucallhimyournephew?”
Elizachokedonair.
“I—I—I,”shestammered.“H-howdareyou!Heiscertainlynotmynephew!AndIamnotinlovewithhim!”
“Ishan’tmentionittoanyone,ifthatiswhyyouareconcerned,”Melvillesaid.
“IfthatiswhyIamconcerned?”Elizarepeated.“Mylord,youseemtobegoingoutofyourwaytoaskmethemostintrusive,mostindelicate…manypeoplewouldconsideritagreatimpertinence.”
“Ihopeyouarenotoneofthem,”hesaid.“Theysoundtedious.”
“Perhapswemightinsteadspeakonmoretraditionaltopics,”Elizasaid,tryingdesperatelytograspbackthereinsoftheconversation.“Suchastheveryfineweatherwehavebeenenjoying?”
“Andhowlongmustwespeakoftheweather,”Melvilleasked,withadubiouslookuptothesky,“beforewecanreturntomoreinterestingmatters?Whatcausedyoutomarryhisuncleinstead?Thetitle?”
Itwasdecided.Elizacouldemphaticallynot,ingoodconscience,invitethismantodinner.Shewouldhavetocancelthewholeendeavor.PerhapsshecouldpretendtoSomersetthattheirguestshadallcalledoffduetoillness…Butthatliewouldhavetheimmediatethreatofdiscovery.Shecouldpretendthatshewasill,instead—Somersetalreadythoughtherso,afterall—buteventhen,couldshetrustthattheWinkworths,forwardastheyhadalreadybeentoSomerset,wouldnotmentionthelatelydeliveredandquicklyretractedinvitation?Inallpossibleoutcomes,Elizawaslefthumiliated.ElizaimaginedthesmugnessuponLadySelwyn’sface,ifsheheardthedinnerpartyhadbeencalledoffatsuchalatehour,thefrownonSomerset’sfaceatsuchinelegantbehavior.
Sheshookherhead.Shecouldnot.Shewouldsimplyhavetotryandmakethebestofit.
“Myintentioninvisitingyoutoday,”Elizasaiddoggedly,“wastoinviteyouandLadyCarolinetoasmalldinnerpartyIamhosting.”
“Willtherebedancing?”Melvilleasked.
“Certainlynot!”Elizasaid.Onecouldnotdanceinblack.
“Ashame,”hesaid.“Whenistheblessedeventtooccur?”
“Ah—tonight,infact,”shesaid.“Aspontaneousdecision—Ihopeyouwillforgivetheveryshortnotice.”
Helookedathersideways,asifsuspectingtherewasfarmoretothestory.
“Isanyoneelseattending?”heaskedsuspiciously.
“Somerset,”shesaid.“AndtheSelwyns.And,Ihope,theWinkworths.”
“Ah,”hesaid.“Well,afteragreatdealofconsideration—anddueattentionpaidtoallmypreviousengagements—IamafraidIcannotattend.”
“Whatpreviousengagements?”Elizademanded.
“IhaveengagedmyselftospendaslittletimewiththeWinkworthsaspossible,”Melvillesaid.“IfindthatIdespisethem—allsaveforMissWinkworth,whoImerelyfinddull.”
“Youhaveonlymetthemonce!”
“AndIfindthatsufficient.”
“Itisnotaproperexcuse,”Elizaprotested.
“WhyshouldIneedanexcuse?”Melvillesaid.“ThesimplefactofthematteristhatitdoesnotatallsoundlikesomethingIwouldenjoy.Whyshouldweattend?”
Elizastoppedabruptlyinthestreet,andturnedtofaceMelville,feelingsofrustratedwithhim—witheverything—thatshemightjustcry.
“Ihadthoughtyoudesiredmyfriendship,mylord,”shesaid,desperately.“Andwhatisfriendship,ifnotkindnessessuchasthis?”
Helookedatherforalongmoment.
“Perhapswecouldstrikeabargain,”hesuggested.
Elizaraisedhereyestoheaven,silentlyaskingthelordforpatience.
“Whatkindofbargain?”sheaskedatlast,stillwithhereyesuponthesky.
“Ifweattend…”Melvillesaidslowly,asifheweretryingtothinkofwhathewanted,“thenyoumustshowmeyourpaintings.”
Elizalookedathiminsurprise.
“Why,thatisveryeasilydone,”shesaid.Shewouldhaveexpectedsomethingfarmoreoutrageous.
“That,”Melvillesaid,“iswhatIhavebeensayingallofthistime.”
“ThenIaccept,”Elizasaid,ignoringthis.“Pleasearriveathalfpastsix.”
Shehurriedaway.
“Halfpastsixintheafternoon?”Melvillecalledafter,horrorplaininhisvoice.Elizadidnotturnbacktoanswer.10
Theeveningwasnotanimmediatedisaster.Indeed,beforetheguestsarrivedmatterswereprogressingbeautifully:ElizareturnedhometofindanoteofacceptancefromMrs.Winkworth,thediningroomdressedbeautifullywithfreshflowers,andthatPerkinsandthecookhadmanagedtoconcoctadeliciousmenuthatdid,miraculously,includeveal.AndonceElizaandMargarethaddressedfordinner—ElizainachemiseofblackItaliangauze,fastenedinthecenterwithajetbrooch,andMargaretinagownofBerlinsilkthatmatchedhereyes—theyweresowellpleasedwiththeirreflectionsthatElizabegantotentativelyhopethatdespitetheimpulsivenatureoftheplan,anddespitethefactthatamoreill-matchedgroupofpersonscouldnotbefoundinEngland,theeveningmightnotturnouttoobadly.
ItwasahopethatlasteduntiltheWinkworths’arrival,tenminutesearly.ForwhentheylearnedtheMelvilleswouldalsobeinattendancethatevening,theirpleasureatbeinginvitedtodinewithsomanymembersofthepeeragesubsideddramatically.
“Didyouknowofthis?”AdmiralWinkworthdemandedofhiswife.
“LadySomersetmadenomentionofitinhernote,”Mrs.Winkworthsaid.
“Isthereanissue?”Elizasaid.ElizahadknowntheWinkworthsdidnotliketheMelvilles,butshehadhopedtheirsocialpretensionswouldbesufficientmotivationtoovercomeit.
AdmiralWinkworthrustledhismoustachewithvigorenoughtosweepthefloor.
“WhenIwasstationedinCalcutta,mylady,”hesaid,“itwascommonenoughforthesoldierstoconsortwithnativewomen,butforamemberofournobilitytomarry,tomixhisBritishbloodwiththatof—”
“LordMelvilleandLadyCarolinearemyguests!”Elizainterrupted,frantically.“Imustrequestyoutreatthemwithcivility.”
“IfImayspeakplainly—”AdmiralWinkworthbegan.
“No!”Elizablurtedout.“No—Iamsorry,butIwouldpreferthatyoudonot,sir.”
Eliza’sheartwasbeatingwithnauseatingquickness.SheexchangedpanickedglanceswithMargaret.
“Ifyoucannotbecomfortableintheircompany,then…”Elizatrailedoff.TheycouldnotasktheWinkworthstoleave—couldthey?No.Theclockwasstrikinghalfpastthehour,andshecouldhearthefrontdoorbeingopenedagainbelow—itwastoolate.
“Ofcoursewecan!”Mrs.Winkworthsteppedin,shootingherhusbandaquellinglook.“Canwenot,husband?”
“TheRightHonorable.TheEarlofMelville,andtheLadyCarolineMelville,”Perkinsannounced.
“Goodevening,”Elizawhispered.
TheMelvilleslookedcharacteristicallydashing:LadyCarolineinagossamersatinrobeofdovegreywithwhitelacestripingacrosstheskirt,herhairdressedwithpearls,andMelvilleinaclose-fittingblackcoat,plainwhitewaistcoatandpantaloons—hiscurlsalittledampenedbytherainthathadbeguntofall.
“Behold!”hesaid,withaflourishingbowbeforeEliza.“Weareontime.”
“Youseemveryproudofyourself,”Margaretnoted,withmorecalmthanElizafeltherselfcapable.
“Oh,itisaveritablecoup,”LadyCarolineassuredher.“Wehavenotbeensopunctualinyears.”
“Inthenavy,wefloggedthelate,”AdmiralWinkworthsaid.
Therewasabeatofsilence.
“Itbecomesinstantlyclearwhymilitarymenareallsodreary,”LadyCarolineobserved.
Margaretlaughed,AdmiralWinkworthgrunted,Mrs.Winkworth’sposturewasverytense,andherdaughterstoodsilent,tremulouswithanxiety—andsowhenSomersetwasannouncedshortlyafter,Elizacouldhavefaintedwithrelief.ShewasevenpleasedtoseetheSelwyns.
“Somerset,youhaveofcoursealreadymadetheacquaintanceofLordMelvilleandLadyCaroline,”Elizasaid.“ButLordandLadySelwyn,Idonotbelievethat—”
“No,wehavenot,andIconsideritaveritabletravesty!”LadySelwyndeclared,herfacewreathedinsmiles.“Whenwehavesoverymanycommonfriendswhooughttohavemadeintroductionsyearsago.”
LadySelwyncouldbecharmingwhenshechoseandMelvillewascertainlyfallingforit,returninghercurtseywithabowandhersmilewithagrin.
“Whatfriendsarethese?”hesaidwithmockoutrage.“Wemustberatethemseverelyforsuchafailure.”
“Southey,forone,”Selwynsupplied,takingthisenquiryliterally.“Scott.Sheridan.”
“Ohmy,Sheridan,”Mrs.Winkworthmurmured,muchimpressed.
“Deadnow,ofcourse,”Selwyntoldher.
“AndIbelieveyouhavemetMrs.andMissWinkworth,Somerset,”Elizasaid.“ThoughperhapsnottheAdmiral…”
“Noindeed,wehaveallmethislordshiponcebefore,havewenot,husband?”Mrs.Winkworthsaid,steppingforward.
“Theraces,wasn’tit?”AdmiralWinkworthagreed.
“Theopera,Iamtold,”Somersetcorrectedmildly,catchingEliza’seye,andsheduckedherheadtohideasmile.
Wouldsheeverstopfeelingquitesoflabbergastedbythemeresightofhim?Amomentbeforeshehadbeenmiserablewithnervesandnow,withonecaughtglance,shefeltsuddenlyseventeen,astremulouslyexcitedasifshewereabouttodancefortheveryfirsttime.Amomentlater,PerkinsappearedtodeclaredinnertobereadyandElizaledthepartydownstairs,ameasurecalmer.TheSelwyns,previouslythevillainsoftheday,seemednowhersalvation—andsolongasSomersetremainedsmilingather,shecouldbesatisfied.
Theysataccordingtogenderandrank:Elizaattheheadofthetable,withMelvilleandSomersetoneithersideofher,LadySelwynandLadyCarolinenexttothem,thenAdmiralWinkworthandSelwyn,MargaretandMrs.Winkworth,andfinallyMissWinkworthattheend.Thefootofthetable,ofcourse,remainedemptyandastheyseatedthemselvesLadySelwynsentasorrowfullookdowntowardit.
“Amelancholyreminderindeed,”sheobservedtotheroomatlarge,“thatmydear,dearuncleshouldrightfullybewithustonight.”
SinceLadySelwynhadbeenperfectlycontentdiningafterthefuneral,Elizawashard-pressedtobelievehersorrowgenuine,butthecommentcastanimmediatepalloverthetable.
“Ihearhewasagreatman,”AdmiralWinkworthgrunted.
“Thebest,”Selwynsaidsycophantically.
Elizacastaboutforachangeofsubject.
“Indeed,itisnotI,butLadySomerset,whomeritsyourcomfort,”LadySelwynsaid,beforeElizacouldthinkofanything.“ForrarelyhaveIseenacouplemoreinlovethansheandmyuncle.”
TheliewassounexpectedthatitrenderedElizaspeechless.BesideEliza,SomersetshifteduncomfortablyinhisseatandElizacasthimaquick,worriedglancebuthiseyesavoidedhers.Pressingheradvantage,LadySelwynextendedahandinEliza’sdirection.
“Iadmireyourfortitude,mylady,”shesaid,voicebrimmingwithaffectedsympathy.“Merelylookingathisseatrendersmeonthepointoftears—Iwonderthatyoucanbearit.”
Atthis,Eliza’svoicereturnedtoher.
“Youradmirationisgratifying,mylady,butunnecessary,”shesaid.“Sincethelastgentlemantoclaimthatseat—aMr.Martin,Ibelieve—isverymuchaliveandwell,thechairdoesnotcausemepain.”
“Indeed,thereisnotthesmallestneedtoweepoveranyofourfurniture,”Margaretagreed.“Unlessitistheoakitselfyoufindupsetting,LadySelwyn?”
HerretortsentthesmugnessfadingfromLadySelwyn’sgazeandLadyCarolinegaveanamusedsnortoflaughter—butMrs.Winkworth’seyesweredartingaroundthetableandElizacouldpracticallysensehercomposingthetidbitsofgossipshewouldbecirculatingthenextday.
“Ithinktherainisliketocontinue,”Elizasaidwithforcedbrightness.Thegentlemenbegantoserveoutthefirstcourse:whitesoup,acod’shead,andthepromisedloinofveal,accompaniedbyafewlardedsweetbreads,araisedpieandvegetablesdressedinmeltedbutter.
Outside,aloudknellofthundersounded.
“Ithinkyoumightberight,”LadyCarolinesaiddryly.
“OnlyinEnglandcouldrainbeconsideredgoodconversation,”Selwynsaidunctuously.“InParis,thestandardsarefarhigher,aretheynot,LadyCaroline?”
“HaveyouspentmuchtimeinParis,LadyCaroline?”Margaretasked,ignoringSelwyn.
“Yes,itisquitemyfavoriteEuropeancity,”LadyCarolinesaid.“Iwasverymuchinfavorofourremovingtherethisspring,butMelvilledeemedittooexpensiveandso…Bathitwas.”
ThedisparagingtoneofhervoicehadtheeffectofirritatingbothMargaretandMrs.Winkworth—anotherwiseunlikelyalliance.
“Iamsureweconsiderourselvesveryfortunate,”Margaretsaid.
“Perhapsthereisstillachanceyoumaychangeyourmind?”Mrs.Winkworthsuggested.
“Ohbrava,Caroline,youhaveoffendedhalfthetableinonethrust,”Melvillesaid.“AmIexpectedtoactasyoursecondifMissBalfourcallsyouout?”
“Ohno.”LadyCarolineshookherhead.“Youareaterribleshot,Melville.”
Therewasatinkleoflaughteraroundthetable.Easiergroundhavingbeenachievedatlast,ElizaaskedMrs.Winkworth,whowassocloselyacquaintedwithbothMastersofCeremonies,whatconcertstheycouldlookforwardtonextmonth.Thisconversationalessaywentdownwell:Mrs.WinkworthwarmedtotheflatteryandSelwynwassoequallydelightedtodisplayhismusicalprowessthattheresultingdiscussionlasteduntilthesecondcourse.
“Now,Melville,Imustask,”Selwynbeganportentously,asplatesofpartridgesanddressedcrabwerebroughttoreplenishthetable,accompaniedbyafricasseeofchickenandacreamofspinach,“whenmightweexpectyoutopublishagain?”
“Wedoawaityournextinstalmentwithagreatdealofimpatience,”LadySelwynadded.
“Doesn’teveryone,”LadyCarolinemutteredintoherglass.
“Itpainsmetodisappointalady,”Melvillesaid,“butImust:Iamnotwritingcurrently.”
“Butwhy!”Selwynexclaimed.“Whenyouhavethetonwaitingonyoureveryword?”
Melvillegaveashrugandtookadraughtofwine.
“OnecannotknowwhenLadyInspirationwillvisit.”
“Youhavemejealous,Melville.”Somersetspokeupforthefirsttimeinseveralminutes.
Melvilleturnedtoregardhim.
“Sayethmore,”heinvited.
“Itmustbeagreeabletoalwayshavesuchareadyexplanationforimpotence—inthemilitary,suchexcusesdidnotfly.”
“Havetroublewithyourmusket,didyou?”Melvilleasked.
Somersetchokedonamouthfulofburgundy.
“Areyouwritinganythingnew,LadyCaroline?”Elizaaskedloudly.
“Iam,”LadyCarolinesaid.“AsequeltoKensington,infact.”
“Truly?”Elizaasked,startled.IthadbeenthreeyearsnowsincethepublicationofLadyCaroline’seyebrow-raisingnovel,Kensington—asatirethathadsopointedlylampoonedlordsandladiesinpoliticalcirclesthatshehadreputedlybeenbannedfromAlmack’seversince.ElizawouldhavethoughtthisharshconsequencereasonenoughtopreventLadyCarolinefromcontinuing.
“Therearemanyfiguresinsocietythathaveyetescapedmypen,”LadyCarolinesaid.
“Oughtwetobefrightened,LadyCaroline?”Mrs.Winkworthsaidarchly.“IfyouaretowritesuchanovelinBath,doyouplantofeatureusinit?”
“Thatdepends,Mrs.Winkworth,”LadyCarolinesaid.“Doyouplanondoingsomethinginteresting?”
Mrs.WinkworthsnappedhermouthshutandMargaretgaveachokeoflaughter,whileLadySelwyn’seyesdartedaroundthetableandSelwynshookhisheadindisapproval.AdmiralWinkworth,thankfully,appearedtoobusywiththecod’sheadtoattendtheconversation.
“Iwonder,Melville,”Somersetsaid.“WasitonlyeconomythatmadeyouchooseBathoverParis?”
Elizathoughtthisconversationlongover—apparentlynot.
“Thefinecompanywasalsoadraw,”Melvillesaid.“Andthe—ah—scenery,too.”
“Yourestatecouldnotofferyouscenery?”
“Oh,AlderleyParkisfartoolargefortwo.Wehaveletittofriends,sothatothersmightmakemoreuseofit.”
“Howextremelycharitable.”Somersetspearedafloretofbroccoliwithunusualaggression.
“Whythankyou,Somerset,Iamflatteredyouthinkso.”
“Itwasnotnecessarilyintendedasacompliment.”
Therewasanewtensionthrummingintheair—oneElizadidnotfullyunderstand
“Nevertheless,Ihavechosentotakeitasone.”
“ThenperhapsIwordeditincorrectly.”
“Ah,noteveryonecanbeawordsmith.”
“Ithinkwearereadyforthefinalcoursenow,Perkins!”Elizasaidloudly.Perkins,Eliza’sonlytrueallytonight,hadthetableemptiedinatrice,settingoutasimpledessertofpreservedfruits,aSavoycake,andaplateofroastedchestnuts.
Silencenowreigned.Allseemedalittlefatiguedfromthetussleofconversation,andElizarackedherbrainsforanothereasy,neutraltopiconwhichtheycouldspeak,onethatwasneitherdreadfullyboringnordisturbinglyantagonistic.Nothingsprangtomind.ShecouldnotbeartolookatSomerset.Hemustcertainlyberegrettingthathehadeveragreedtosuchaninvitation,asElizawaswholeheartedlyregrettingissuingit.
Thinkofsomething,Elizabeggedherownmind,anything
Rescuecame,intheend,fromanunexpecteddirection.
“IsMissSelwynkeepingwell,mylady?”MissWinkworthsaid,sosoftlyshewouldsurelynothavebeenheard,hadthetablenotalreadybeensoquiet.
“Sheis,”LadySelwynsaid,lookingupfromherplate.“Areyouacquainted?”
“Theyattendedschooltogether,”Mrs.Winkworthboasted.
“Isthatso,MissWinkworth?”Somersetsaid,smilingdowntoher.Underhiskindgaze,MissWinkworthseemedabouttomustersufficientcouragetospeak,butasshepartedherlipsMrs.Winkworthinterjected.
“Yes,indeed.Winnieisforeverwishingtheymightmeetagain.”
“Youmaybeinluck,”Somersetsaid,lookingdirectlyatMissWinkworthasifitwereshe,andnothermother,whohadspoken.“MysisterisconsideringhiringroomsinBaththisspring.”
“Isthatindeedso?”Mrs.Winkworthdemanded,leaningforward.
“Itisnotyetdecided,”LadySelwynsaid.“ButwemaybringoutAnniealittleintosocietyherebeforewedepartfortheLondonSeasoninApril.”
“Afamousidea!”Mrs.Winkworthsaid.“Shewouldundoubtedlybenefitfromtheexperience.”
“Iagree,”Somersetsaid.“Aperson’sfirstSeasoncanbesovery…overwhelming.”
Acrossthetable,hiseyesmetEliza’sverybriefly.Shewonderedifhe,too,wasthinkingofthesamememoriesshewas:thedancestheyhadshared,theconfidences,thewhisperedconversations.
“YouarebringingMissSelwynoutalready?”Elizaasked.
AnniehadbeenjustagirlwhenElizahadlastseenher,withhugeeyesandtangledhairandatonguesoimpertinentevenLadySelwynhadnotbeenabletocurbit.
“Sheisturnedseventeen,”Selwynsaid.
“Oh,practicallyancient,”MargaretmutteredunderherbreathandElizashotherarepressivelook,thoughherheartdidgoouttotheabsentgirl.
“WeourselveshavehadWinneoutinBathforayearnow,”Mrs.Winkworthsaid,“inthehopeofcuringherofsomeshynessbeforesheispitchforkedintoLondon.”
MissWinkworthflushed.
“Onedoesnotatallmindalittleshyness,whenonedoesitsocharminglyasMissWinkworth,”Somersetsaid.
“Exactlyso,”Elizaagreed,witharushofaffectionforhiskindness.
“Alittleisfine,”AdmiralWinkworthgrunted.“Anexcessisfatal.”
MissWinkworth’spinkcomplexionturnedsaffron.
“DoyouhaveamatchinmindforMissSelwyn?”Mrs.Winkworthasked.
ElizahopedforAnnie’ssakethathermotherwasnotquitesoambitiousasEliza’shadbeen.Thegraduationfromgirlhoodtowomanhoodwasnotaneasyoneinanycase,asElizacouldeasilyrecollect:theweightofexpectationsuddenlyfelt,theconstantadmonishment,thepressingneedtobedaintier,prettier,moreineveryway—theanxious,sickfeelingonecarriedaroundinone’sverysoul,thatitwouldnotbeenough.
“Certainly,”Selwynsaid.“Onedoesnotallowone’sdaughtertomarrywilly-nilly.”
“No,no,ofcoursenot,”Margaretsaid,deepeninghervoiceintoaclearimitationofSelwyn’sbluster.“Onecannotsimplyallowwomentomaketheirowndecisions.”
Elizabitbackamoanofdespair.Didshehavetoimitatehim?
“Standstoreason,”LadyCarolineagreed.“Whereonearthwoulditlead?”
Wasittoosoonfortheladiestoretirefortea?
“Ofcourse,LordandLadySelwynwouldneverwantMissSelwyntomarrywhereaffectionwasnot,”Somersetinterjectedinswiftdefense.“Onlytoofferguidance!”
Elizalookeddown.Guidancewassosoftaword,butsheknewbetterthanmosthowinsistentitcouldbe,howinexorable.LordandLadySelwynmightnotorderAnnietomarrythemanoftheirchoice,no.No,theywouldmerelypushandprodher,adviseheragainstselfishness,recommendshethinkofherbrothers,thinkofhercousins,thefamily.Theywoulddecreethatfirstlovefaded,thatmaritalaffectiongrewfromfamiliarity,wouldpromisethatinayear’stimeshewouldhaveababyonherkneeandthatbythenthememoryofthatfellowsheusedtocareforwouldhavefadedintoobscurity…Guidanceofthatsortwasnotsoft.Itcouldnotberesisted.Itwouldbepresseduponone,overandoveragainuntilitwaseasiest,simplest—evenarelief—justtocapitulate.
“Ohyes,guidanceisimperative!”Mrs.Winkworthsaid.“OnewouldnotwantMissSelwyntomarrybeneathher.”
Elizafelthermouthtwistinaratherbittersmile.Somerset’seyesskitteredbrieflytoherandthenawayagain.Shewonderedifhe,too,wasconsideringtheironyofhisnowbeingontheothersideoftheargument,whenonceitwashe,withnotitleorfortunetorecommendhim,whohadbeenconsideredtheinferiormatch.
“Andwhatifhersentimentsdonotalignwithyourguidance?”Margaretasked.
LadySelwynraisedabrowanddidnotanswer.
“Ithinkitunlikely,”Selwynsaid.
“Andshouldsuchamomentarise,”Somersetadded,“Anniewouldcertainlyspeakhermind.”
“HaseveryonesampledtheSavoycake?”Elizaasked,decidingthatshecouldnotbeartolistentothisanylonger.Shewouldrathertheyreturntoanyofthefraughtsubjectsoftheevening,thanspendanothermomentdiscussingAnnie’sfuture.
“Yes,delicious,”Melvillesaid,obeyingEliza’sentreatinggaze.“PerhapsImightofferitaroundagain—”
“Andintheeventofsuchamomentarising,”MargaretpressedSomerset.“Youwouldcedetoherwishes—astheheadofthefamily?”
ElizatrieddesperatelytocatchMargaret’seye—shedidnotknowwhathercousinwastryingtoachieve,butitwasnottoEliza’sliking.IfshewasintentionallyalludingtoEliza’sownhistory,thenthiswasnotthetimeforit.Forwhatpurposediditservenow?
“Certainly,”Somersetsaid.LadySelwyn’smouththinned,butsheremainedsilent—shewastoowell-bredtodisagreewithherbrotherinfrontofsomanyobservers.
“Andifshefellinlovewithapauper?”LadyCarolinesaid.
“I—I…We—”Somersetbrokeoff.Underthetwin,judginggazesofMargaretandLadyCaroline,hisneckbegantoredden.
“Shewouldnot,”Selwynasserted.
“Outofthequestion,”hiswifeagreed.
“Becauseshewouldneverthinktodisobey?”Margaretsuggested.
“Because,”Somersetinterjected.“Becausewewoulddiscussitand—”
Hebrokeoffagain,unabletoanswersatisfactorily.
“Parry,sir,parry,”Melvilleencouraged.
Somersetsenthimaburninglook.
“Annieknowsherduty,”Selwyninterjected.“She’llcometoheel.”
Elizasqueezedhereyesshutforamoment,wishingshewereabletodothesametoherears.
“Itwouldnevercometothat,”Somersetsnapped.HisgazeflickeredtoElizaagain,defensiveandharried,andthenbacktoMargaret.
“IfMissSelwynisasIremember,”MissWinkworthsaidsoftly,sendingadimplingsmileinSomerset’sdirection,“shehasspiritenoughtomakeheropinionknown.”
“Yes,exactly,”Somersetagreedatonce.HiseyeslockedagainwithEliza’s.“AlackofspiritiscertainlynotAnnie’sissue.”
ItwasasifabucketoficywaterhadbeenthrownabruptlyoverEliza.Shesuckedinadesperate,shockedbreath,feelingasifallthewindhadbeenknockedoutofher.Allninefacesaroundthetableturnedtowardher,butshedidnotheedthem—stillstaringatSomerset,strickentoherverybones.
“Mylady…”Melvillesaidverysoftly.
Elizastoodwithoutmakingaconsciousdecisiontodoso,thelegsofherchairmakingadramaticscreechagainstthefloor.
“Ithinkitistimefortheladiestoretirefortea,”Elizasaid.Shecouldbarelyhearherownvoiceoverthesoundofherheartpoundinginherears.“Margaret,ifyouwillescorteveryonetothedrawingroom,Iwill,”shecaughtherbreathonaslightgasp,“Iwilljoinyouinjustamoment.”11
Elizadartedfromtheroomandupthestairs,hardlyknowingwhereshewasgoing,onlythatsheneededtobealone.Justamoment,tomasterherselfunobserved.Shepushedherwayintoherbedchamber,closedthedoorandleanedbackagainstthewood,closinghereyesandtryingtobreathe.Evennow,shecouldnotallowherselftobreakcompletely,forthesobsburningforreleaseinherthroatwerenotquiet,ladyliketearsthatshecouldindulgeinforafewminutesbeforewipingherfaceandreappearingseamlesslyintothedinnerparty.Thesetearswouldbeloudandugly.Theywouldmakehereyesswollen,hercheeksred,andeveryonewouldsee,andalthoughshehadalreadymadeascene,alreadyhadherdistresswitnessedbyeveryone,Elizastillpressedherhandagainsthermouthandheldtheanguishin.
Hehadnotforgivenher.AndElizahadnotexpectedhimto,exactly,buttobepresentedwithsuchirrefutableproof,asclearasdayinthebiteofhiswords,thedamningfireinhiseyes…Itwasashock,thatwasall.Hehadnotforgivenher.Hecouldnot,hewouldnot—andwhateversecrethopesshehadbeenharboringovertheirreacquaintancewerefoolish.Thisdinnerpartywasfoolish.Hadshetrulythoughtthatifshecontrivedenoughreasonsforthemtospendtimetogether,believedthatifshecouldholdhimhereinBath,awayfromthepoisonoustonguesofhisfamily—thathemightfallinlovewithheragain?
ShehadspentthedaydashingaroundBath,spenthoursinfrontofthemirror,teasingherhairjustso,ineagerpursuitofagentlemanwhoheldherinsuchcontempt.Agentlemanwhohadinsultedheratherowndinnertable,infullviewofallherguests,withwordsthatmighthavebeenespeciallydesignedtohurther.Elizapressedahandtoherbreastboneasifthepaintheremightbeeasedwithphysicalpressure.Allthiseveninghadachievedwastoreopenawoundthatoughttohavehealedlongago…Still,atleastsheknewshecouldendurethis.Shehadbecomeadept,overtheyears,atenduringthiskindofhurt.
Elizatookadeep,steadyingbreath.Pushinghershouldersbackandhermemoriesdown,sheopenedthedoorandheadedforthestairs.Itwastimetorejointhefray.Asmuchasshemightwanttosendallherguestsawaynowandhangtheconsequences,sheoughttosavesomeface:anhourmoreoftea-sippingandpolitechit-chatandthenshecouldbidthewholeawful,humiliatingendeavoradieu.Elizamadetoenterthedrawingroom,whenshesawthedoortotheparlor—herpaintingparlor—wasstandingajar,apaneoflightescapingintothehallway.Worryingthatshemighthaveleftacandlelit,shepushedthedoorfullyopentofindMelvillestandingthere,examiningthepileofwatercolorsthatlayuponthetable.
“LordMelville?”Elizasaiduncertainly.Whatwastheappropriatewaytochallengesomeone,whentheyweresoobviouslycaughtnotwheretheyweremeanttobe?
“Myapologiesfortrespassing,”hesaid,notatallapologetic.“YoudidsayIcouldseethem.”
“Ididnotthinkyoumeanttonight,”Elizasaid,voicehushed.Shewouldhavepreparedifshehadknown,wouldcertainlynothaveencouragedhimtorifflefreereinthroughallherpieces.“HaveyouleftAdmiralWinkworth,SelwynandSomersetallalonetotheport?”
“Ihadto,”Melvillesaidathisusualvolume.Elizashushedhim,castingaworriedglanceoverhershoulder—itwouldcausemorethanraisedeyebrowsiftheywerefoundhere,alonetogether,andthedrawingroomwasonlyalittlewaydownthehall.Melvilleobedientlyloweredhisvoiceashecontinued,“WinkworthwasenumeratinguponhiskillsduringthesiegeofSeringapatam,SelwynwaslistingalltheclassicaltalesIshouldbeinspiredby,andSomersethadsunkintodepressedsilence.Anintervalhadtobesought.”
Elizafeltasuddenpangofguilt.
“Iamsorry,”shesaid.“Whatanawfulevening!Ishouldneverhaveinducedyoutocome.HadIknownthatWinkworth…”
Shetrailedoff.Shehadknown—alittle—ofatleastMrs.Winkworth’saversiontotheMelvilles,butinthemoment,shehadsimplycaredmoreforherdinnerparty.
“Weshallnotbreakbreadwiththemagain,”Melvillesaidsoftly,handsstillmovingthroughthepages,andElizanodded.
“Whatanawfulevening,”shesaidagain.
“Thefricassee,Ienjoyed,”Melvillesaidwithaquirkofasmile.
“Ohwell,thenImayresteasy,”Elizasaid,returningit.
Melvilleheldupanotherpaintingtothecandlelight.
“Youhavesuchtalent,youknow.”
Elizapaused.
“Areyou…makingfunofme?”sheasked.Onecouldneverbesure,withMelville.
“WhywouldI?”hesaid.“Idonotpretendtobeanexpert,buttheseareasgoodasanyofthepaintingsIhaveseenattheRoyalAcademy.Theemotionyouareabletoconvey!”
HemovednexttoalandscapeofaluridstormhoveringoverHarefieldHall.
“IsthisHarefield?”heasked.
Elizanoddedsilently,alittledazedbytheadmirationinhisgaze.
“Ihadnotrealizedyouhatedit,”heobservedquietly.“Thewayyoupaintit—alwayssocold,sodesolate.Haveyouconsideredexhibiting?”
Elizaletoutalittlehuffofsurprisedlaughterandshookherhead.
“Andyetthismusthavetakenyouhours,”Melvillesaid.“Theeffort…”
“Itisjustforme,”Elizasaid.“Butthatdoesnotmakeitanylessworthwhile.”
Melvillestaredatherforamoment,beforehecarriedonrifflingthrough,handscareful,eyesadmiring,andpayinghercomplimentssogracefullythatElizacouldforgetherunworthinessasshedrankthemin.Anydreadshemighthavefeltatthesightofhim,here,lookingatpaintingsonlyMargarethadeverseen,elapsed—andsooverwhelmedwasshetoreceivepraise,soeagerwasshetoreceivemore,thatsheentirelyforgotwhathemightfindinthepile.
“Isthatme?”Melvillesaid,checkingsuddenly.
“Don’t!”Elizasaid,movingforward,handoutstretched.
Butitwastoolate,hehadpulleditfromthepileandhelditneartothecandleforabetterlook:thepaintingofhimself,leaningincoquettishlytoLadyHurley,whileMrs.WinkworthandMr.Fletcherlookedcrosslyon.
“Itisme!”
“I—I…”shestammered.Whatcouldshepossiblysay?Therewasnowaytodenyit.“Itwasjust,thatfirstnightattheconcertyou—anditcaughtmyattention—andIoftenpaintsuchscenesashaveoccurredintheday,Ihopeyoudonotmind…”
“Remarkablyaccurate,”hesaid,consideringit.“ThoughIfancyIamalittletallerthanthis.”
Thefloor,stubbornanduselessandunhelpful,optednottoswallowElizawhole.
“Weoughttoreturntotheparty.Ourabsencewillhavebeennoted,”shesaid.
“Youknow,Mr.Berwickhasbeenattemptingtopersuademetositforaportrait,”Melvillemused,ignoringthislastpoint.
“SoIhear.”Elizaplacedahandpointedlyuponthedoor.
“Itoldhimno,”Melvillesaid.
Elizagesturedtowardthehallway.
“ThoughIhavebeenadvisedthatitmight…help,”Melvillesaid,“toincludeaportraitatthefrontofmyworks.”
“Perhapswecouldspeakofthisanothertime…”
“Wouldyoudoit,ifIasked?”Melvilleasked,hisvoicestilllowandhiseyessuddenlyfixeduponhers.
“Idonotunderstand…”
“Wouldyoubemyportraitist?”Melvillesaid.
Heseemedserious—hecouldnotbe.
“Iamnotsurewherethejokeisinthis,”shesaid.“ButIwishyouwillstopandletusreturntotherestofourparty.”
“Iamnotjoking,”hesaid.“Youareverygoodandyoucapturelikeness—mineandothers—withcharacter,butnotflummery.”
Elizastaredathim.Asagirlshehadoftenimaginedsuchscenesasthis:ahandsomeyounglordbeingsotakenwithherartistrythatheatoncerequestedacommission(andthen,after,herhandinmarriage).Butsuchthingsdidnothappeninreallife.Itwaspreposterous.Evenifshewereskilledenough—whichshewasnot—thetalkitwouldgenerate,theimproprietyofmakingsuchaspectacleofherself…Elizapassedahandacrossherforehead,whichwasbeginningtoache.Thiswastoomuch.Aftereverythingthiseveninghadalreadycontainedshecouldnotmanagethis,too.
“Ishouldverymuchlikeyoutodoit,”Melvilleprompted,whenElizadidnotspeak.
“Iamflattered,mylord,butyoushouldseekoutaprofessional,”Elizasaid.
“FromwhatIcansee,youareaprofessional.”
“Haveyounotalreadyadmittedyouarenotanexpert?”
“Yousee,Iwasbeinghumble,”MelvilleexplainedwithagrinElizadidnotreturn.
“Imustdecline.”
“Why?”
“Therearetoomanyreasons,”Elizasaid.“Itisinconceivable.”
“Isit?”
Elizawishedhewoulddropthematter:decliningsomethingshebadlywishedtoacceptwasdifficultenoughtodoonce.
“Youhavebeenverykind,mylord,”Elizasaid.“But,indeed,Iamnotwhatyourkindnessesteemsme.Iamuneducated,untested,unproven.Anditwouldcausesuchtalk.”
Melvilletiltedhisheadoneway,thentheother.
“Isitthatyoudonotwantto?”hesaid.
“I…”Elizasaid,quiteataloss.Ifmattersweredifferent,iftheworldweredifferent,shewouldhavealreadyagreed.ShemightevenhaveaskeditofMelvillefirst,justasMr.Berwickhad.Butjustbecauseshewantedto,justbecausethiswasthesortofopportunityshehadbeendreamingofsinceshecouldholdapaintbrush,didnotmeanshecouldsimplydoit.Itwasunthinkable—wasn’tit?
“Ioughtnottopressyou,”Melvillesaid,whenshedidnotspeak.“Ifyoudonotwishto,thatisabsolutely—”
“No,”Elizainterruptedhim.“No,Ido—Imight—”
Shebrokeoff.Melvillewaitedsilently,withmorepatiencethanshewouldhaveexpectedfromhim,asshestruggledtomarshalherthoughts—itwasimpossibletothinkclearly,undersuchroilingemotions.Shecouldnot
“Perhapswemight…discussit,”shedecided.
“Iadorediscussion,”Melvilleagreedpromptly,andatlastobeyingtheopendoor,hefollowedheroutandmadehiswaydownstairs.
ElizaenteredthedrawingroomtofindLadyCarolineonthepointofconcludinganamusinganecdoteinvolvingaParisiannun,aglove,andagrandfatherclockthathadMargaretdissolvinginlaughter.LadySelwynandMrs.WinkworthturnedtowatchElizaasshecamein.
“Areyoufeelingwell,mylady?”Mrs.Winkworthasked.
“Quitewell,”Elizasaidcrisply.
“Youweregonesuchawhile,wehadbeguntoworry.”
“Therewasnoneed.”
“DidIhearLordMelvillecomeupstairs,too?”LadySelwynwondered.“IcouldhaveswornIdid…”
“Ifyouareconcernedabouthearingthings,”Elizasaidwithasnap,“Ithinkthatratheraquestionforyourdoctor.”
“LadyHurleyswearsbyMr.Gibbes,ifyouareinneedofarecommendation,”LadyCarolineputin,eyesmischievousoverherteacup.
“Oh,IshouldnottrustLadyHurley’sjudgment,”Mrs.Winkworthsaidatonce,leaningtowardLadySelwyn.“ThewomanisoneofBath’soddities—shemaydressherselfupwithairsandgraces,butthereisthedistinctscentoftheCityabouther.MyhusbandsometimesreferstoherasLadyHurly-Burly.”
LadySelwyngaveanappreciativetitter.
“Veryclever,”Margaretsaidflatly.
“LadyHurleyhasbeenverykindtoMelvilleandme,”LadyCarolinesaidwitharaiseofonearchedbrow.
LadySelwynceasedhertitteratonceandMrs.Winkworthflushed,butthegentlemenjoinedthembeforeanyrejoindercouldbeoffered.Elizasmiledupattheminplacidwelcome,thoughshecouldnotlookatSomerset,forsheknewshecouldnotdosowithoutfreshmortificationstaininghercheeks
“Didyouenjoyyourdigestif?”LadySelwynasked.
“Verymuchso,”Somersetsaid.“AdmiralWinkworthandIdiscoveredthatwehavebeenstationedinmanyofthesameports.”
“Oh,howmarvelous,”Mrs.Winkworthsaidenthusiastically.
“Itoohavevisitedagreatmanyofthoseports,”Melvilleadded,ashesatbesideMargaret,“thoughin,Iwouldsay,adifferentcapacity.”
MargaretlaughedopenlywhileElizasuppressedherownsmile.
“Thatisamagnificentpianoforte,mylady,”Mrs.Winkworthsaidloudly.“Doyouplay?”
Elizalookedovertotheinstrumentinquestionandshookherhead.
“I’mafraiditissadlyneglected,”shesaid.
“Youarenotmusical?”Melvilleasked,pouringhimselfacupoftea.
“Ihaveneithervoicenorskill,”shesaid.
“Muchtoyourhusband’sdespair!”Selwynsaid,withachuffoflaughter.
Margaretglaredathim.
“Doyourecollect,LadySomerset,”LadySelwynsaid,withatinklinglaughofherown,“thenightyourengagementwasannounced,whenhebadeyoutosingforusallatGrosvenorSquare?”
“Ido,”Elizasaidgrimly.Itwasrare,afterall,forpersonstohavetoliveouttheirveryworstnightmare—onedidnoteasilyforgetit.
“Youweresoreluctant!”Selwynsaid.“Andwesoonunderstoodwhy!”
Elizadidnotthinkshehadeverhatedapersonmore.
“Selwyn…”Somersetsaidquietly.
“Wearejustfunning,Somerset!”Selwynprotested.
“Iamnotlaughing.”
Anhourago,suchadefensemighthavewarmedEliza,butnowitonlyworsenedthethrobbinginherforehead.WasSomersetsettingouttobeconfusing?Toalternativelyignoreherandteaseher,snapather,thendefendher.Itwasdizzying.
“Oh,gentlemencannothelpbutwishtheirwivesaccomplished,”Mrs.Winkworthsaid.“WhomeverWinniemarrieswillbefortunateonthataccount,forshewasbornsingingsosweetly.”
Therewasapause,asthecompanymurmuredpolitely.Then,asifshehadbeensuddenlystruckwithaVeryGoodIdea,Mrs.Winkworthadded,“Why,Winifredoughttoentertainyouwithasong,now,LadySomerset!”
“Mama…”MissWinkworthwhispered,shakingherhead.
“Iampersuadedalittlemusicwouldbejustthething!”Mrs.Winkworthinsisted.
Wastheretobenoendtotheirtorment,tonight?OrwastheremerelytobeanendlessstreamofunpleasantnessforElizatositthrough,helplesstoavoidoravert?
“Ohyes!”Selwynagreed.“Perhapsajigofsomesort.”
“Theperfectendtotheperfectevening,”LadySelwynsaidslyly.
“Mama,Icannot,”MissWinkworthsaid.
“LadySomerset,Ibegyouwilladdyourentreatiestomine!”Mrs.WinkworthsaidtoEliza.“Mydaughteristoomodesttoperformwithoutthem.”
“IfMissWinkworthwouldrathernotsingforus,IamnotsureI—”Elizabegan,asfirmlyasshewasable.
“Merebashfulness,”AdmiralWinkworthsaid.“Comenow,girl,donotkeepuswaitinganylonger.”
“Oh,donotcompelher,sir.”MelvillejoinedthedefenseofMissWinkworth.“ForthenIwillfeelmyselfsimilarlyobliged,andthatIampersuadedyouwouldcertainlynotenjoy!”
MargaretandLadyCarolinelaughed,butElizacouldnotbedistractedfromthesightofMrs.Winkworthhissingremonstrancesintoherdaughter’sear.MissWinkworth’sbreathinglookednowalarminglyquickandtheachebehindEliza’seyestwistedhigher.
“Pleasedonot…”shestarted,asMrs.Winkworthbegantochivvyherdaughteroutofherseat.
Onceagain,Elizawishedferventlythatshecouldendtheeveninghereandnow:floutallconventionandbreachallrulesofhospitality,sendherguestsaway,andnotcareforthepossibleramificationsofsuchill-manners.Wouldthatsuchacourseofactionwereopentoher!
Except…wasitnotopentoher?Itwouldbeill-mannered,yes,inelegant,certainly—shockinglybadton,infact,but…ButthiswasEliza’shouse.Theyweredrinkinghertea.Attendingherdinnerparty.WhyshouldshesithereandpretendtheSelwyns’jibesdidnotoffendher,pretendtheWinkworthswerenothorrible,pretendthatshewantedtobehereatall?TherewasnoonetoreprimandElizaforinelegance,anymore.Shewasawomangrown,withamind—andfortune—ofherown,andshedidnotwanttosithereforonemomentlonger.
Forthesecondtimethatevening,Elizastood.Herheartwasbeatingasquicklyasifshewereabouttoleapoffaprecipice.
“IamafraidIhavetheheadache,”shesaidbriskly.“Andso,whileIamsureMissWinkworth’sperformancewouldgiveconsiderablepleasure,Imustnowretire.”
TheshockedsilencethatlayinthewakeofherdeclarationmighthavemadeherwincehadMissWinkworthnotbeengazingatherwiththestunnedairofamouseunexpectedlyfreedfromatrap.
“Thankyouforalovelyevening,”Elizasaid.
LadyCarolinesetdownahalf-drunkteacupwithaclinkandstood.Silently,stillstunned,therestofthepartyrosetotaketheirfarewells.
“Brava,”Melvillewhispered,bowingoverherhand.Elizadidnotrespond,insteadextendingherhandnexttoLadySelwyn,whoseeyeswereflickingbetweenthemwithmorecalculationthanElizashouldlike.Somersetwasthelasttoleave,hesitatingatthedoorwayandopeningandclosinghismouthasifhewereafish
“Mylady—”hestarted.
“Goodnight,Somerset,”Elizasaid.
Whateverhewantedtosaytoher,whethertoapologizeforhisrudenessorcastigateherfurther,shedidnotwanttohearittonight.Notwhenshewassoclosetofallingapart.
Intheirabsence,thehousefeltblissfullyquietandstill.Elizasatbackdownuponthesofaandclosedhereyeswithasigh.Shewouldnodoubtonedaybesorryforsuchalapseinmannersasshehadcommittedtonight,butatthismomentshecouldnotbringherselftoregretit.
“Itwasaverymemorableevening,atanyrate,”Margaretsaid,andElizafeltthesofashiftunderherweight,too.
“Whichwas,ofcourse,mychiefobject,”Elizasaiddryly.
“Oh,didyouhaveanaim,then?”Margaretretorted.“Youweren’tmotivatedjustbylunacy?”
“IthinkIhavebeen,”Elizasaid,stillwithhereyesclosed.“AllthatefforttokeepSomersethere,towinsomethingovertheSelwyns…Andforwhat?”Shepaused,swallowed,andaddedinahoarservoice,“Hehasnotforgivenme.Ioughtnevertohaveexpected—Iknewitwasfoolishtohope,but…”
SheheardarustleasMargaretshifted,thenfeltherhandbegintostrokeEliza’shair.
“Withthewayhehasbeenacting,”Margaretsaid,“itwasnotfoolish.Ithoughtasyoudid.”
Eliza’seyesprickedwithtearsasawaveofshamewashedoverheragain.
“Whyseekoutmycompanyifheholdsmeinsuchcontempt?”shegulped.“Iwouldneverhave—ifIhadnotthought—”
“Itwasunjust,”Margaretsaid.“Andunpardonablyrudeinfrontofeveryone—thereisnoexcuse.AndIamsorryforthepartIplayedinbringingitabout.Iwastryingtomakeapoint.”
Elizachuffedaslightlybitterlaugh.
“Ithinkyoudidsoquitesuccessfully.”
“Iamsorry,”Margaretsaidquietly,andElizagaveajerkynod.
Herheadachehadnotelapsed,eveninthequiet.Itseemed,rather,tobetakingoverherwholebody,movingdownherneckandshoulderstomeetthethrobbingpressureinherchest.Youhavedonethisbefore,sheremindedherself.Thistimewillbeeasier.
“Well,heisonlyhereforafortnight,”Margaretsaidpragmatically.“Youmayeasilyavoidhimforsuchatimeandthenyouneednotseehimeveragain.”
“Oh,donotsaythat,”Elizasaid.“ThatisnotwhatIwant.”
“Whatdoyouwant?”
Elizadidn’tknow.Herheadwashopelesslytangled.ShewantedtoavoidSomersetforever.Shecouldnotbeartoneverseehimagain.Bothweresomehow,incomprehensibly,true.
“Ijustneedsomecalm,”shesaid.“Itisallsomuch,withtheSelwynsandSomersetandtheMelvilles—”
“WhathavetheMelvillesdone?”Margaretasked,withalittleindignation.
ElizahadnottheenergytoexplaintonightaboutMelville’soffer:notnow,whenherthoughtsweresoknottedthatshecouldnottellifshewereappalledorexhilaratedbyit.
“Nothing.Ijust—nothing,”shesaid.
“Iadmirethemverymuch,”Margaretsaidstaunchly.“LadyCarolineisquitethecleverest—themostamusing—womanIhavemet.”
“Beautiful,too,”Elizaadded.
Margaretinclinedherhead,eyesflickingaway.
“Iwonderthatshehasnevermarried,”Elizamused.“Shemusthavehadscoresofoffers.”
“Iamgladforit,”Margaretsaid.“Mostcommonly,spinstersarewithoutstanding,consequence,orimportancetosociety.Itisarelieftoseethatisnotalwaysthecase.”
“Youhavestanding,consequenceandimportancetome,”Elizasaid,turningtoregardherdearestfriend.“Youarethemostimportantpersonintheworld,tome.”
“Icannotdecideifthatisthemostwonderful,”Margaretsaid,“ormostdepressingthingIhaveeverheard.”
ButshesqueezedEliza’sarmtotakethestingoutofherwords.
“Shrew,”saidElizafondly.“Thatcouldhavebeenalovelymoment,beforeyouruinedit.”
“Thatismyfinestlady’saccomplishment,”Margaretsaid.“Imaynotbeabletopaintorsingorembroider,butIamcertainlyquitecapableofruiningthings.”
Elizalaughed,anditwasarelieftodoso.Margaretcouldalwaysbetrustedtomakeherlaugh—andElizahaddonesomoreinthepastmonththanperhapsherwholelifeputtogether.Itwasworthrememberingthat.
AndworthrememberingthatbeforeSomersethadarrivedinBath—beforeherworldhadnarrowedagaintothepointofasingleman—shehadbeenhappierthanshehadeverknownherselfbefore.ShehadMargaret.ShehadCamdenPlace.Shehadfriendsand,even,thepossibility—perplexingthoughitmightbe—ofanartist’scommission.LosingSomersetwasnotthemortalblowitoncewas.
Shejustwisheditdidnothavetohurtquitethismuch.12
TheSundayservicesatBathAbbeywerealwaysasdryasdust,butReverendGreen’sponderousdronethenextmorningwasparticularlyunbearable.Usually,Elizawasabletosinkintolanguor—perhapsidlydecidingwhichofthecongregation’sdressessheadmiredmost—butthismorningsuchdistractionwasimpossible.Shehadawokenjustasunsettledasshehadbeenupongoingtobed,theeventsofthepreviouseveningcirclingaroundherhead,sharpandpainful,andheragitationhadbeeninnowayeasedbySomerset’sdecisiontoseathimselfdirectlyinthepewinfrontofher.
Hemighteasilyhavechosenanotherrow.Forasmuchastheabbeywasalwaysbusy—anotherplacetoseeandbeseen—ithadspacesufficienttochooseapositiontoone’sliking.AsElizaandMargarethad,ignoringMrs.Winkworth’sbeckoningwavetoslideinbesideLadyHurleyandMr.Fletcher,newlyreturnedfromtheirvisittothecountry.
“…forGodcannotbetemptedwithevil,neithertemptethHeanyman…”
Elizashiftedinherseat,Somersetturnedhisheadalittleandsheavertedhereyes.Shefeltsurethatifshelookedathim,shemightburstintotearsrighthereandnowandshedidnotthinkitwisetofeedBath’sgossipsanymorethanMrs.Winkworthhadlikelyalreadydone.Elizainsteadresolvednottolookathimatall.Thoughhowshewastomaintainthis,whenhisshoulderswerefillingupherentireviewwiththekindofbreadththatmightwellmakeanoaktreejealous,shecouldnotimagine.
“WouldyouliketotakeastrollaroundSydneyGardensaftertheservice?”LadyHurleywhisperedinEliza’sear—shehadceasedpayingattention,too.“MelvilleandLadyCarolinearegame.”
ElizaturnedherheadtolookatMelville.HeandLadyCarolinehadarrivedlate,causingaflurryofheadstoturnintheirdirectionandElizatofeelanunexpectedsurgeofrelief.ForasmuchasshehadbeenthinkingobsessivelyoverSomerset’swords,lastnight,shehadbeenmusinguponMelville’s,too.Andthoughhemighthaveforgotten—hemightnothavemeanthisofferseriously—shecouldnothelphopinghemightaskheragain.
Melville’seyesslidfromtheReverendtocatchEliza’sstare—andhewinked.Elizaturnedhastilybackaround.
“Yes,thatsoundsveryfine,”shewhisperedtoLadyHurley.
Thesoundofahundredpersonsmurmuringafinal“amen”indicatedatlasttheendoftheservice,andElizastoodwiththerestofthecongregation,willingthepersonsaheadofhertomoveswiftly.
“Mylady?”
ElizapretendedshehadnotheardSomerset’svoice,keepingherheadturnedforward.Hurryup,sheurgedtheancientMrs.Renninson.Hurryup.
“LadySomerset.”
WhenstillElizadidnotturn,Somersettouchedherverylightlyuponthearmand,thoughhewaswearingglovesandsheathickpelisse,shedrewbackasifscalded.
“Ididnotmeantostartle…”hesaid.
Elizalookedupathim,felthereyesbegintosmart,herthroattighten—andlookedhurriedlyaway.
“Goodmorning,”shesaid,regardinghershoes.“Didyouenjoytheservice?”
“Mylady,”Somersetsaidquietly,“Iwishtoapologizeforlastnight.”
Ofcoursehedid.Ofcoursehissenseofdecencywouldnotallowhimtopassoversuchaneveningwithoutaddressingit,butsinceshecouldcertainlynotmaintaincomposurethroughsuchanordealtoday,itwouldhavetowait.
“Weareblockingtheway,”shesaid,movingdowntheaisleafterMargaret.
Somersetfollowedclosebehindherastheyspilledoutintothecourtyard,andElizaandMargaretmadeabeelineforthespotwhereLadyHurley,Mr.FletcherandtheMelvillesweregathered.
“Whatatediousservice,”Melvillewassaying.
“Notthething,”Mr.Fletcher—whoElizasuspectedtohavebeenasleepfortheentirety—agreedemphatically.
“Thereverenddoesalwaysrunonwhenhe’spreachingagainsttemptation,”LadyHurleysaid.“Thepoormancan’thelphimself.”
“Andnowitappearshemeanstomingle,”LadyCarolineobserved,asthevicaremergedfromtheentranceandbeganshakinghands.
“Heenjoysspeakingwiththecongregation,”LadyHurleyexplained.
“Whatistherelefttospeakof?”Melvillesaid.
“DamnedifIknow,”Mr.Fletchersaid.
MelvilleclappedMr.Fletcherontheshoulder.
“Weunderstandoneanotherperfectly,sir,”hedeclared.“Thankgoodnessyouarehere.”
“Splendid!”
Thedrearinessoftheserviceaside,MelvilleseemedinhigherspiritsthanElizahadeverseenhim—eyessobrightandsmilesowidethatevenEliza’smoodbegantoliftoutoftheclouds.
“IhearyouaretojoinusinSydneyGardens,mylady,”Melvillesaid,turningtoofferhisarmtoElizawithanextraneousflourish.“Shallwebeoff?”
“Ihadnotthoughtyoumuchinterestedinoutdoorpursuits,mylord,”Somersetremarked.
“Oh,youwrongme,”Melvillesaid.“LadyHurleytellsustheyarepleasuregardensfinereventhanVauxhallandIammostintriguedtoseethelabyrinth.”
“IshouldnothavethoughtthelabyrinthaparticularlyappropriateactivityforSunday,”Somersetsaid.
“Wrongagain,”Melvillerebuffedcheerfully.“ForImeantoreadaloudfromFordyce’sSermonstoYoungWomenaswenavigate,whichwillrenderthewholeactivitypleasinglygodly.”
“Splendid…”Mr.Fletchersaiddubiously.
“Wouldyoucaretohearonenow,Somerset?”Melvilleasked,pattinghispocketpointedly.“Theydosoclarifythemind.”
“Thankyou,butIdonotlackforclarity,”Somersetsaid,beforeturningtoLadyHurley.“Apleasuretomakeyouracquaintance,madam,”hesaid.“MayIjoinyourparty?”
“Oh,howdelightful,”LadyHurleytrilled.“MayIclaimyourarm?Mr.FletcheristovisithismotherthismorningandIdososufferwithoutagentleman’sshouldertoleanupon.”
ShewoundherarmthroughSomerset’s,battinghereyelashesupathim—Somersetswallowed—andsetoffatadecisivepacethathehadnochoicebuttoobey.
“Ialsowalkveryquickly,LadyCaroline,”Margaretsaidinundervoice,shakingoutherskirts.“Areyoucertainyouwillkeepup?”
“Iassureyou,MissBalfour,”LadyCarolinesaid,“itismostcertainlyIwhoshallbesettingthepace.”
TheyfollowedswiftlyinLadyHurley’sfootsteps,leavingElizaandasmilingMelvilletotakeuptherear,withPardleafewstepsbehind.
TheSydneyGardenswereonlyashortdistancefromtheabbey—acrosstheAvonanddowntotheendofPulteneyStreet—andwiththeleadingcoupleswalkingatsuchafastclip,oncetheywerewithinthegardenwalls,theysoondisappearedaroundthecurveofthewindingpathahead,leavingElizaandMelvillestrollingbehind.Therewereallmannerofsightstoadmire:shadybowers,romanticwaterfeaturesandswathesofcultivatedwildernessliningtheserpentinepaths,butElizadispensedwiththeviewtoregardMelville.
“DoyoutrulycarryacopyofFordyce’sSermonsinyourpocket?”sheaskedcuriously.
“Dearlordno,”Melvillesaid,pullingfromhiscoatinsteadasmallleatherboundnotebook.“ThedayIreadFordycetoCarolinewillbethesamedayIdieundersuspiciouscircumstances.”
“AndwhatwouldyouhavedoneifSomersethadaskedyoutoreadasermon?”Elizasaid,smiling.
“Iamsurprisedhedidnot,”Melvillesaid.“Themanissodeterminedtochallengemeoneverysuit.”
Eliza’ssmilefaded.
“Iamsorry,”shesaid.“Idonotknowwhyhedoesso.”
Thatwasnotentirelytrue.Shehadthought,before,thatSomerset’sbehaviormightbeinspiredbyjealousy,butafterlastnight,thatseemedlesslikely.
“Heisjealous,”Melvillesaid.“Asyouarefullyaware,andnodoubtaptlyexploiting.”
Elizajerkedherheadaround,startled.
“Iamnot,”sheprotested.“Andheisnot,either.”
Asmuchasshemightwishdifferently.
“Itisnothingtobeashamedof,”Melvillesaid.“Wehavealldonemuchworseinlove’sname,andImyselfdonotmindintheleastbeingusedinsuchaway.Infact,Ibegyouusememore,mylady.”
Elizaflushedadeep,deepred,hershoulderscreepinguptowardherears,butMelvillewasnotdone.Ashehadonthedaytheyfirstmet,hedislodgedEliza’shandtospreadhisarmswide,asifencouraginginspection.
“Ioffermyselftoyouruse,”hedeclared,andElizalookedwildlyupanddownthetree-linedpathtochecktheywerenotbeingobserved.
“Youmuststop,”Elizasaid.“Youarebeingabsurd.”
Absurdandimproper,evenforMelville,andshehardlyknewwhattosayinresponsetosuchoutrageousness,whethersheoughttolaughor—
“Perhapswemighttodayfindourselvescaughtaloneinsomeromanticbower,”Melvillesuggested,“leavingSomersetwithnochoicebuttocallmeout.Ordoyouthinkthereisanorangeryinthesegardens?Ihavealwaysbeenpartialtoanorangery.”
NowElizawaslaughing—itwasimpossibletodootherwise.
“Shelaughs!”Melvillecrowed.“Atlast.”
Heofferedhisarmoncemore,andasElizatookit,shenoticedthatthecuffsofhisshirtwerefaintlystainedwithink.
“Wereyouwritinglettersthismorning?”Elizaasked.
“Notletters,”Melvillesaid.Hewavedthenotebookather,again,beforeputtingitbackinhispocket.
“Youareworkingagain?”
“Ihavenottoldanyone,”hesaid,“butyes.Medea.Vengeance,passion,heroiccouplets,etcetera…”
Histonewasflippant,buttherewasgenuinepleasureinhisface.
“Icanhardlywait,”Elizasaid,withperfecttruth.“ThoughIthoughtyouwereheretoholiday.”
“Itireofrest,”Melvillesaid.“It’sterriblydreary.”
“Andso,thenotebookisforideas?”
“Ofasort,”Melvillesaid.“PhrasesIlike,wordsIwishtouse—stuffandnonsense,really.”
“Mygrandfatherusedtodothesame,”Elizasaid,remembering.“Notwords,buthewouldsketchscenesorobjectstorecallthemmoreeasilylater.Hetoldmethatanyartistworththeirsaltshoulddoso.”
“Anddidyoutakehisadvice?”
“Iamnotanartist.”
“Ibelievewehavealreadydisagreedonthatpointonce,”Melvillesaid—andthereitwas.TheyhadfinallyreachedthetopicElizahadbeenachingtoraiseallmorning.Shefellsilentasthecanalcameintoviewahead,pretendingtoadmiretheintricateChinoiseriebridgegentlyslopingoveritwhilemusteringupthecouragetoaskthequestionsthathadbeenplayingonhermindsincelastnight.Tobroachthem,insopublicasetting,feltariskbutthen,withthethickverdurearoundthem,thehillsofBathamptonjustvisibleinthedistance,andonlythesoundofthebreezemovingthroughthetreestoaccompanytheirfootsteps,onecouldeasilyimaginesheandMelvilletobelostsomewhereinthecountryside,quitealone.ElizatookanothersidelongglanceatMelville.
“Wereyoubeingtrulyserious,abouttheportrait?”sheasked.
Shewouldreactwithequanimityifhewasnot.
“Gravely,”Melvillesaid.“Willyouagreetodoit?”
“Itspurposeistobeincludedatthefrontofyourvolumes?”shechecked.
“Yes,”Melvillesaid.“Iamadvisedthatitmighthelpbroadenmyreach.”
“Isyourcurrentleveloffameinsufficient?”sheasked.“Istherealadyinthetonwhohasnotreadyourvolumes?”
“Theton,littlethoughweliketothinkit,”Melvillesaid,“makesforthetiniestproportionofEngland,mylady,andIshouldlikemypoemstobereadmorewidely.”
Elizaabsorbedthissilently.
“Irealizesuchungentlemanlymotivationdoesnotatallfitinwithmycarelessjoiedevivre,”Melvilleadded.
“Butifitissoimportant,thisportrait,”Elizasaid,“whyaskme?Ihaveverylittleformaltraining,andifconvenienceismyonlyadvantage,youmustknowyoucouldverywellaskMr.Berwick—heissaidtobeverytalented!”
“AndsoIcould,”Melvillesaid.“Butthatwouldrequiremetospeakwithhim,mylady,andthatIwillnotdo.I’dmuchratherbepaintedbyabeautifulwomanthansomebumptiousgentleman.”
“IthinkthatisexactlywhyIoughtn’tagreetosuchascheme,”Elizamuttered,half-flattered—foritwasnoteverydayonewascalledbeautiful—andhalf-crestfallen,forifMelvillehadonlypickedheroutofadesiretoflirt..
“Iwouldnotaskyou,ifIdidnotthinkyoucapable,”Melvillesaid,hisvoicesosuddenlyseriousthatElizawasalmostshockedtoseehimwithouthisusualairofflippancy.And,asithadthenightbefore,hearingsuchpraise—suchconfidenceinherability—madeherfeelasifshecouldbreathemoredeeplyandmorefullythanshehadeverdonebefore.
“Iwantittoresembleme,”Melvillesaid,“notsomepuffed-upfoolinalibraryholdingaglobe—andIdonotbelieveanyoneelsecoulddothatbetter.”
ElizacouldnotimaginetheBalfours,ortheSelwyns—oreven,truthfully,Somerset—thinkingthisthesortofbehaviorthatbefittedacountessinherfirstyearofmourning.Ifitwasdiscoveredthatshewasspendingsomanyhourswithsuchaninfamousgentleman,thesafetyofherfortunewouldunquestionablybeatrisk.Toagreetosuchaschemewasanactoflunacy,but…Todeclinethekindofopportunityshehaddreamedofeversinceshewasachild?Thatseemedanevengreateractoflunacy.
“Willyoupaintmyportrait,LadySomerset?”Melvilleasked,again.
Elizalookedaway.Sheoughtnot.Shewantedto.
“Iwill,”shesaid.
Melvilleletoutawhoopofcelebration.
“Ihaveconditions!”sheaddedhastily.“Iinsistupondiscretion!”
“Iamverydiscreet,”Melvillesaid.
“Neverthelessitmustremainasecret,”Elizasaid,amusedbutimpatient.“Apermanentsecret—mynamemustneverbeattached.”
“Done,”Melvilleagreedcheerfully.
“Andweshallhavetothinkofsomepretext,toexcuseyourvisits,”Elizasaid.“ForyoutohauntCamdenPlacewithoutexplanationwoulddoasmuchdamageasthetruth.”
“Whenshallwebegin?”
Aheadofthem,SomersetandLadyHurleycameintoview—gatheredbeforethegrandgatepierwithMargaretandLadyCarolinealongside.Theyhadcompletedacircuit.
“Tomorrow?”Melvillesuggested,andElizahushedhim.
“Tuesday,”shemurmured.“Early,sowearenotinterrupted.AndyoumustbringLadyCaroline—IshouldlikeasmuchchaperonageasIcanmuster.”
“Chaperonage?”Melvillerepeated,amused.“LadySomerset,doyounottrustyourselfaroundme?”
Onceagain,Eliza’scheekspinked.
“Thereyouare!”Margaretcalled.“Wewereonthepointofsendingoutasearchparty.”
“LadySomersetwasjustdrawingmyattentiontoaparticularlywonderfulorangery,”Melvillesaid,shootingElizaagrin.
“IwillescortLadySomersetandMissBalfourbacktoCamdenPlace,”Somersetsaidauthoritatively.
“Areyoutired,Caro?”Melvilleaskedhissister.
“Notintheleast,”LadyCarolinesaidinstantly.“Shallwelocatethislabyrinth?”
Andafteraquickroundoffarewells,theystrodeoff,leavingElizaandMargaretstaringafterthem.
“Come,MissBalfour,Iwouldhaveyouaccompanymenow,”LadyHurleysaid,takingMargaret’sarmandleadingherbackthroughthegates.
ThereseemingnowayforElizatoavoidSomersetthistime,shejoinedhimreluctantly,leavinganimpersonalgapbetweentheirshoulders.Hemadeasiftoofferhisarm—thenafterabeat,returnedthelimbtohisside,astheybegantowalk,allowingthetwoladiestodrawaheadonthepavement.Aftertheverdantpeaceofthegardens,PulteneyStreetwasgreyandnoisy,butElizastareddeterminedlyaheadasifitwerethemostfascinatingviewshehadeverclappedeyeson.
“LadyHurleyiscertainlyfast,”Somersetsaidquietly.
Elizadidnotknowifhewasreferringtoherwalkingpaceor…somethingelse.
“Isn’tshemarvelous?”Elizasaidpointedly.Somersetfrowned.
“Iknowitisnotmyplace,”hebegan,“butmylady,Iwonderifyououghttobemorecareful,withthefriendsyoumakehere.LadyHurleyis…Well.AndtheMelvilles—Idonottrustthem.Idonotknowwhat,truly,hasbroughtthemtoBath,butIdonotthinkitsoinnocentareasonastheywouldhaveusbelieve.”
“No,itiscertainlyduetoascandalofsomesort,”Elizasaid.Didn’teveryoneknowthisbynow?“Perhapsanaffair.”
“Mylady!”Somersetsaid,andElizapressedherlipstogether.WalkingwithMelvillehadloosenedhertongue.
“Iamsorry,mylord,Ididnotmeantoshockyou,”shesaid.
Somersetletoutabarkofsurprisedlaughter.
“Shockme?”herepeated,asifthiswereamusing.Helookeddownather,shakinghishead.“Youdidnotusedtobesoworldly.”
“Iused,”Elizasaid,veryquietly,“tobeseventeen.”
ThesmilefadedfromSomerset’sface.TheywerenolongerspeakingabouttheMelvilles.
“Mylady,”Somersetbeganagain,voiceroughernow.“Mylady,youmustletmeapologize.”
“Thereisnoneed,”Elizasaid,voiceshaking.IftheycouldjustreachCamdenPlace…
“Thereis,”Somersetinsisted.“Iwasunforgivablyrude—”
“Indeed,Iwouldprefertomovepasttheincident,”sheinterrupted.Somerset’sregretcouldonlybeforhisungentlemanlyconduct,andtohavetohearandforgivesuchanapology—whenthepainithadcausedwasnottrulyduetoitsrudeness,buttoitshonesty—wasmorethanElizacouldbear.
“Ithinkitbestwediscuss—”
“Idonotthinkthat—”
“ByJove,wouldyouletmespeak?”Somersetdemanded,drawingtoasuddenhalt.Elizaconsideredwalkingonwithouthim,butstopped,too.Shewouldhavetohearhim,itseemed.
“Iamsorry—thatwasimpolite,”Somersetsaid.“Again.I—Ihavebeensounpardonablyunciviltoyou.”
Elizacouldnottrustherselftospeak.Shemerelygaveajerkynod.
“Iwishtoapologize—foreverythingthatoccurredlastnight,”Somersetcontinued.“IwasunkindanddisagreeableandanyapologyImakewouldbeinsufficient.”
Hetookoffhishat,unheedingofthecoldair.
“ButIamsorry,”hesaid.“IfyouwishmetoleaveBathtoday,Iwill.”
Elizaraisedhereyestothesky,inthehopeitwouldkeepanytearsunspilled.
“No,”Elizasaid.“Idonotwantyoutoleave.”
Itwastrue.Evenwhenitfeltimpossibletoremaininhispresence,evenifhecouldneverreciprocateherfeelings.Shehadspenttenyearswithouthimandshecouldnotwishhimaway,evennow.
“Ihadbeenenjoyingourreacquaintance,”shesaid,bracingherself,atlast,tomeethiseyes.Really,didanyonehavearighttoeyessoblue?
Somersetgaveagrimace.
“Ihadbeenenjoyingit,too,”hesaid.
ElizalookedaheadtowhereMargaretandLadyHurleyhadstoppedandwerelookingbackatthemenquiringly.“Weoughttocatchthemup.”
SomersetdidofferElizahisarm,thistime,andshetookit.Theairbetweenthemfeltlessfraughtthanithaddoneearlier,butnolessheavy.
“Ioughttoapologize,too,”hesaid.“Formysister.”
“Isthereanyoneyouarenottoapologizefor?”Elizaasked,withherbestattemptatasmile.
“Selwyntoo,”Somersetsaiddoggedly.“IhadintendedtoberatethemmostseverelythismorningbuttheywereupandoutsoearlythatIcouldnot.Theyweremostunkind—moreaffected,perhaps,bythechangeinmyuncle’swillthanIhadrealized.”
“Theyhaveneverlikedmemuch,”Elizasaid.“Ihavegrownaccustomedtoit.”
“Iwishyouhadnot,”Somersetsaid,sosoftlythatElizawasnotsurehemeanthertohear.“Iwish…”
Hetrailedoffandtheywalkedoninsilenceforamoment.
“IhopeIhavenotruinedthings,”hesaidroughly.
Elizacaughtherbreathandletitoutinaslow,longexhale.Whatoughtshesay?Thingshadbeenruined—forher,atleast.But…Shestillwantedhiminherlife,evenifshewouldhavetoputtobedherothersentiments,wouldhavetolearn,onceandforall,howtofalloutoflovewithhim.
“Perhapswewerefoolishtothinkwecouldsimplyspendtimetogether,again,”shesaid,“withoutthesubjectofourpastarising,onoccasion.”Elizalookedupathim,forcingherselftoholdtheeyecontact.“Butperhapsnowithas,wemaybeabletostartourfriendship,afresh.”
“Doyoutrulywishthat?”heasked.“Evenafter…”
“Yes,”shesaid.
Itwasbetterthannothing.
“Friends…”Somersetsoundedthoughtful.
“Onlyifyouwishit,aswell,”sheaddedhastily.Shewouldnotagainmakethemistakeofassumingsheknewhisfeelings.
“Doyouthink,”Somersetaskedabruptly,“thatfriends,whileinBath,mightmeetatthePumpRoomeachmorning?”
“Iwould,”Elizasaidcautiously.
“Perhapstheymightattendconcertstogether,aswell?”
Elizacouldnotreadhisexpression.
“Theymight.”
“Andrideouttogether,whentheweatherallowsit,doyouthink?”
AsmallsmilewaspullingatthecornerofhismouthandElizareturneditvery,verytentatively.
“Ido,”Elizasaid.
Wasitonlytoherearsthatsuchafriendshipsoundedsoakintocourting?Elizatrieddesperatelytobanishthehopethatwastryingtounfurlonceagaininherchest.
“Thenyes,”Somersetsaid,bowingoverherhandinfarewell,“Ishouldliketobeyourfriendverymuch.”
BalfourHouse
February14th’19
DearEliza,
ThoughIreceivedyourlastlettersafeinhand,Iwillnotanswerhereanyofyourquestionsregardingthefamily—youmayassumealloftheirhealth—forapieceofmostdisagreeablenewshasreachedmineears.
Ihavereceivedreport—bywayofLadyGeorgina,bywayofhercousin,andthenceaMrs.ClemensofBath—thatLordMelvilleandLadyCarolineMelvillehavemadetheirhomeinBath.Canthisindeedbetrue?Ifitis,youcanonlyguessatmyhorror!AndIwonderthatIshouldreceivesuchreportagefromLadyGeorgina—bywayofhercousin,etc.—andnotfromyou,yourself!
Imustinstructyoutoactwithgreatprudencyaroundsuchpersons.Thedisgracesassociatedwiththeirnamearenumerous,disparateand,indeed,recent—therearewhispersthatanaffaired’amourhasbeenoccurringbetweenLordMelvilleandLadyPauletforyears.LadyPaulet,youwillrecollect,isthefemalepainterwhoseworkwassolaudedbythetonlastyearandthefuryofPaulet—Melville’smostloyalpatron—upondiscoveringthecuckoldingwasreportedlygreat.Withsuchascandalasthisbrewing,ItrustthatyouwillgiveLordMelvillenoencouragementastoanypretensionsoffriendship.
Youmayexpectmoreanon—thereareafewexpensesregardingRupert’seducationthatIhaveagreedtoonyourbehalf.Heis—thoughyouhavedemonstratedashockinglackofinterestinyourheir—inpossessionofafurthermolar.
Youraffectionatemother.13
Willyoutrytositstill?”
“Iam.”
“Youarefidgeting.”
“Ifyoucountbreathingasfidgeting.”
ElizagaveMelvilleahardstareoverthetopofherportfolio,tryingtoemulatehergrandfather’simplacablemannerofstaringdownhismostdemandingsubjects.
“Areyouwell?”Melvilleasked,withaglintinhiseyeasifheknewverywellwhatshewastryingtodoandhaddecidedtobeasdifficultaspossible.“Youlookdreadfullyuncomfortable.”
Elizahidasmilebehindthepage.ItwasThursdaymorningandthiswouldmarkthesecondofMelville’ssittings.Elizahaddecided,dredgingupherrecollectionsofhowMr.BalfourSr.hadconductedhisportraits,tospendtheirfirsthourstogethercapturingMelvilleinavarietyofposesinordertodecideuponthepainting’scomposition.Itwasmorechallengingthanshehadexpected.PartlybecauseElizahadnevermetanyonewhosatwithmoreanimationthanMelville,butmostlybecauseElizafeltsoflusteredtobesittingwithhimquitealone.Ithadnotbeenwhatshehadimagined,uponTuesday,whenMelvilleandLadyCarolinehadcalledsoonafterbreakfast,andtheyhadsatcloisteredtogetherintheparlorwithLadyCarolineexaminingEliza’spaintings.
“Dowehavetoindulgeinsuchacharade?”Melvillehadprotested,whenElizahadreiteratedtheneedforsomeexcuseforthehourshewouldneedtospendatCamdenPlace.
“Yes,”Elizahadinsisted.“Icannotbeseenmakingsuchaspectacleofmyself.”
Thissolution,intheend,hadbeenMargaret’s.
“WhatifLadyCarolinewereteachingmeFrench?”shehadsuggested.“Melvillewouldbeescortinghertoandfromthehouseandvisitingwithyouduringthelessons.”
LadyCarolinehadraisedhereyebrows.“AndIjust…dawdlehere,forthedurationofthesitting?Howthrilling.”
“Oryoucouldactuallyteachme,”Margarethadsaidmildly.“Ihavealwayswantedtolearnand…Ishouldnotthinkityourfirsttimeintheroleoftutor,isit?”
Atthat,LadyCarolinelookedhardatMargaretforafewbeats.Margaretreturnedhergazesteadily.
“Itisnot,”LadyCarolineagreedwithaslowsmile.“Verywell.”
Elizahadimaginedthattheywouldconducttheirlessonsintheparlor,too—ElizaandMelvilleseatedatoneend,LadyCarolineandMargaretuponthesofa—acrampedaffair,yes,butwarmandcompanionable.Today,however,LadyCarolinehadthrownthatideaout.
“Wehavenotenoughspace,”shesaid,beckoningtoMargaret.“Weshallhavetostationourselvesinthedrawingroom.”
“But…whataboutchaperonage?”Elizasaid.Atherageandasawidow,chaperonagewasnotperhapsasessentialasitwasforayounglady,butgiventheintimateconnotationsofaportraitsitting,itfeltonlywise.
“Weshallpokeourheadsineveryhalfanhourtoensurenothinguntowardisoccurring!”Margaretsuggestedbrightly,andtheyleft.
Andthatwasthat.Itfeltveryquiet,intheirabsence,andEliza’sfaceflushedfornoreasonatall.Nothinguntowardisoccurring,sheremindedherself.Youaredoingnothingwrong.Shewished,unfairly,thatMelvillewouldnotlookathersoverydirectly—herhandswerebecomingunsteady,herlineswobblierthantheyhadbeenforyears.
Shewondered,briefly,whatSomersetwouldthinkifheknewwhattheyweredoingtoday—andimmediatelybanishedthethought.SheandSomersetwerefriends,nomore—andbarelythat,fortheirinteractionsthesepastfewdayshadbeen…tentativetosaytheleast.Shebanishedthatthought,too,tryingtorescueherfirstattemptatMelville’sfacewhichhadbecomesadlymangled.
“Youmusthavehadaprodigiousdrawingmaster,”Melvillecommented,asElizabegantosketchouthisprofileagain.
“Yes,”Elizasaid.Hehadbeenaportraitisthimself,infact,aMr.Brabbington,employedatthedirectionofhergrandfather.
“Anddidyourgrandfatherhaveahandinyoureducation,too?”
“Yes,”Elizaagreedagain.Inhergirlhood,thewholefamilywouldspendthesummeratBalfourHouse,andwhilehercousinsplayedontherollinglawns,Elizawouldsneakintohergrandfather’spaintingroomtowatchhimatwork.Hehadtoleratedherpresencewhenshewassmallandquietenoughtonotbecomeanuisance,andthenslowly,ashestartedtorecognizesomeaptitudeinEliza,hebegantotreatheralmostasanassistant.
“Doyoumisshimagreatdeal?”Melvilleasked.
ElizametMelville’sgazebriefly,beforereturninghereyestoherpaper.Melville’slineofquestioningencouragedElizatounburdenherself,buttodiscusssuchintimatesubjectswhilstalonedidnotsitwellwithher.
“Yes,”Elizasaid.TheseniorMr.Balfourhadpassedawaywhenshewasonlyfifteenyearsold,takingwithhimtheonlyallyshehadinthefamily—asidefromMargaret—whothoughtofherassomethingotherthanabarteringtool.
“Andyourlatehusband?”Melvillesaid.
Elizalookedupfromherpage,stunned.Theimpertinence!
“Youdoaskagreatmanyquestions,mylord!”shesaid,inreproofratherthananswer.
“Nomorethanyouevade,”Melvillepointedout.“Idowishyouwouldn’t.”
“Why?”
“Iwishtogettoknowyou,”heexplained.“Youarefamiliarwiththeconcept?”
“AndIsupposeifIaskedyouagreatmanypersonalquestions,”Elizaretorted.“Youwouldfeelcomfortableansweringthemall?”
“Why,ofcourse,”Melvillesaid.“Youmayaskmeanything.”
Elizaletoutasigh.Sheoughttohaveexpectedhewouldanswerwithsuchachallenge.
“SinceIknowverylittleaboutyou,asidefromwhatthescurrilousgossipssay,Iwouldnotknowwheretobegin,”Elizasaidevasively.
“Letusthenbeginwithwhatthescurrilousgossipssay!”Melvillesuggested.“Don’tbeshy!Ipromisetoanswertruthfully.”
WhenElizadidnotimmediatelyspeak,hemadeachivvyinggesture,asifshewereahorse.Elizawasstruckwithanunbecomingdesiretoshockhim;torockhisindefatigablegoodhumorforasinglemoment.Sheputdownherpencilandfoldedherhands.
“TheysaytheMelvillesaremad,”shesaid,theworstthingofwhichshecouldthink.
Melvilleconsideredthis.
“Itisdifficult,asIamsureyouwillallow,formetosaywhetherIamornot,”hesaid.“InevermetmygrandfathersoIcan’tspeaktohissanity,buthewascertainlyabrute.It’swhymyfatherfledabroadassoonashecouldanddidn’tcomebackuntiltheoldmanwasdead.Whatelse?”
“Theysayyou’rearake,”shesaid,boldly.Hermotherwouldfainttohearherspeakso.
“Ispentsomeyearsdeeplystudiedinpetticoats,Iwilladmit,”Melvillesaidthoughtfully.“ThoughIshouldnotthinkmorethantheothergentlemenofourcircles.”
“Isthatso?”Elizasaidskeptically.Itwasnotwhatshehadheard.
“Societydelightstoimbuemewithpreternaturalcharm,”Melvillesaid.“Itdeemsanyladythatdaresspeaktomeaslovelorn,anywomanwithwhomIdancemymistress,andeveryunmarriedchitthatcrossesmypathasneedingprotectionfromme.IthasbeensosinceIwasaschoolboy.”
Hewasstillsmiling,butanedgeofrancorhadenteredhisvoicethathadElizaeyeinghimuncertainly,wonderingiftheirgamehadgonetoofar.
“Whatelse?”heprompted.
Shehesitated.
“Comenow,LadySomerset,youweredoingsowell.”
“TheysaythatyoucametoBathbecauseofascandal,”shesaid.
“Mypointexactly,”Melvillesaidwithasardonictwitchofaneyebrow.“TheysayIgoeverywherebecauseofascandal.”
“Well,thistime,theysayitinvolvesthePaulets,”shesaid,andthesmileslidoffMelville’sfaceatlast.
“Dotheynow,”hesaid.
“Theydo,”Elizasaidtriumphantly,pickingupherpenciltorecommencesketching.Thatheclearlydidnotwanttoanswer.“Doyouhaveanythingtosayonthatmatter,mylord?”
Melvilleletoutasuddenlaugh.
“Youcouldbealittlemoregraciousinvictory,mylady,”hesaid.“ButIshallcedethegroundnonetheless—fordiscretion,onthatsubject,doesindeedforbearmefromspeaking.”
“Exactly!”Elizasaid,moretriumphantstill,andMelvillehelduphishandsinplayfulsupplication,laughingagain.
“Staylikethat!”Elizainstructed,rushingwithherpenciltotryandgrasptheexpression—butithadslidoffhisfaceaseasilyaswateroffsand.Shegavealittlesigh.
“AmIbeingverydifficult?”Melvilleasked,moreamusedthanapologetic.
“No,no,”Elizasaid.Shedidnotwanttobethoughtungratefulandtruthfully,whileitmightbesimplerifhewasaneasiersubject,thechallengeofitallwasratherthrilling.Shewouldhavetomovefaster,keepherpencilssharperandwatchhimmoreclosely.Hergrandfatherusedtosaythatthesecrettoartwasnotlearningtopaint,butlearningtosee.Tobeabletoputhislessonstopracticeproperly,afteralltheseyears,madeElizafeelasifshewerebackinthepaintingroomatBalfour,asifhishandswerestillguidinghers.
“Ishallgetthereeventually,”sheassuredMelville,herhandssteadiernow.
“OfthatIhavenodoubt,”hesaid.
SheblushedatthecertaintyinhisvoiceandMelvillelaughedgently.
“Thatwasnoteventrulyacompliment,”heteased.
“Ifyoucannotsitstill,mylord,”shesaid,flushingharderandstaringatherpaper,“perhapsyoumightinsteadremainquiet.”
“Can’tdothat,”Melvillesaidcheerfully.“Doyouthinkyouwillceasetoblushafterafewsittings?”
Elizadoubtedit.Shedidnotreply.
“Ihopenot,”Melvilledecided.
ThesoundoftheclockstrikingquartertothehourhadElizastartling—andMelvillefrownedatitasifithadpersonallyoffendedhim.
“Mustwefinishsosoon?”heasked.
“IdonotwanttobelateforthePumpRoom,”Elizasaid,settingdownhermaterialswithalittlerelief.
“No,GodforbidweleaveSomersetwaitingformorethanasecond,”Melvillesaid,standingobediently.
Elizaavoidedhisgaze.SomersethadappearedatthePumpRoomeverydaythisweek,fornootherreason,itappeared,thantospeakquietlywithherforafewminutes,andeachdaytheirtentativeaccordbecamealittlelessstrained.
“Youneednotaccompanyus,”sheremindedMelville.
“Oh,butImust—SomersetdoessomissmewhenIamabsent.”
Elizadidnotreply.Shecouldnotbesure,butitfeltmoreandmoreasifMelvillereservedhisoutrageousrailleryforSomerset,asifhisentirelife’spurposewasnowtoinfuriatehim.ItwasforthisreasonthatElizamighthavepreferredsheandMargaretnotarriveatthePumpRoomwiththeMelvilles,buttherewasnohelpingit.
Somersetwasalreadytherewhentheyarrived,makinghiswaytowardthedoorassoonasshecrossedthethreshold,profferingagobletofthewaters.
“Ohyoushouldn’thave,Somerset!”Melvilledeclared,interceptingthegobletandtakingitforhimself.“Idonotdeservesuchgallantry.”
Somersetinhaledveryslowly,andthenturnedtoEliza.
“MayIescortyoutothePump?”
Sheacceptedatonce,leavingMargaretwiththeMelvilles,LadyHurleyandMr.Fletcher.ThefurtherSomersetandMelvillewerefromeachother,themorecomfortableshewouldbe.
“Haveyouhadapleasantmorning?”Somersetasked.
“Yes,”Elizasaidcarefully.“Margaret,ofcourse,hadanotherFrenchlesson…”
“AccompaniedbyMelville,Iperceive,”Somersetsaid.
“AndIreceivedaletterfrommymother,”Elizaaddedquickly.
“HowisMrs.Balfour?”Somersetsaid.“Sheseemed…thesame,whenwemetatHarefield.”
“Sheisverymuchthesame,”Elizaagreed.
“Shewritesoften?”Somersetguessed.
“Sometimestwiceaday,”Elizasaid,smilingasSomersetbarkedalaugh.“SheandmyfatherhaveavolumeofopinionsonhowIshouldbeconductingmyselfandmylands.Oneletterwouldsimplynotdo.”
“Myfamilyissimilarlypreoccupied,”Somersetsaid.“MysisterdemandssuchaminuteaccountofallmydoingsthatIshouldthinkherquiteabletobecomemybiographer.”
“Doyouthinksuchatextwouldmakeforinterestingreading?”Elizaaskedteasingly.
Somersetshookhishead.
“Notunlessthereaderdesiredalengthyeducationincroprotation,”hesaid,“thesubjectinwhichMr.PenneyandIarecurrentlyimmersed—oneofmylandstewards,youknow.”
“Oh,yesheshallbemine,too,”Elizasaid.“IamtomeetwithhimuponFriday.”
“Yes,hementioneditthismorning,”Somersetsaid.Hehesitated.“Mr.Penneywondered,infact,ifIoughtjoinyourmeeting.”
Elizafrowned.Mr.Walcothadhadhisqualms,ofcourse,aboutEliza’sdirectinvolvementinherestates,butshehadthoughthenowacceptedit,howeverreluctantly.ForMr.PenneytohavecontactedSomersetregardingherlands,withoutevenconsultingher…
“Itismerelysowemaydiscusswhereweborder,”Somersetaddedswiftly.
Perhapsthatwasit.PerhapsElizawasbeingoveranxious.
“Iftherearemattersthatpertaintobothourlands,thenofcoursewemustconfer,”shesaid.
HavingfetchedEliza’sglassofwater,theycompletedtheircircuitslowly—heaskingafterhernephews,sheafterhisnieces—arrivingbackatMargaret’ssidejustasMrs.andMissWinkworthbustledup.
“Ohmylord,wehopedtofindyouhere!”Mrs.WinkworthtrilledupatSomerset.“WinifredwashopingyoumightfrankalettertoMissSelwyn?”
Mrs.Winkworthnudgedherdaughterforward.Withhersimplemuslindress,strawbonnetandablushlightinguphercheeks,MissWinkworthlookedverybecoming;shemighteasily,indeed,havebeentheinspirationforoneofMr.Woodforde’sshepherdesspaintingsandanyumbrageSomersetmighthavetakenathermother’sencroachingsoftenedatthesight.
“Iwouldbegladtodoso,”hesaid,takingtheprofferedbilletcarefullyinhand.
“Thatisverykind,”MissWinkworthsaidquietly.
“Oh,youhavemadeWinifred’sweek,mylord!Shewillbeintransportsoveryouramicabilityallday,Iamsure!”
“Allday?”ElizasaidinavoicesufficientlyloweredthatonlyMissWinkworthmighthearit.
“Perhaps…perhapsonlythemorning,”MissWinkworthwhisperedbackwithahesitantsmile.
“HaveyouallheardthatMr.Lindleyistoperformattheconcertnextweek?”Mrs.Winkworthostensiblyspoketothegroup,butherwholepersonwasturnedonlytoSomerset.“Acoup,indeed,forBath.Somerset,doyouthinkLadySelwynshouldbeinvited?Iampersuadeditisjustthesortofthingshewouldenjoy.”
“Iamsureshewould,”Somersetsaid,shootingElizaaquicklook.“Inherlastletter,shebademepassonherwellwishestoyouall.”
“Didshe?”Mrs.Winkworthlookedpleasedaspunch.
“ShealsobademedeliveramessagetoMelvilleinparticular,”Somersetwenton.
“Oh,yes?”Melvillesaid.“Canyoushareitnow,orisitofsuchanaturethatImustreceiveitprivately?”
Somerset’sjawclenched.
“LadySelwynhasheardthatyouarewritingagain,”Somersetsaid,“andwishestoexpresshowpleasedsheis—andherimpatiencefornews,whenyouhaveit.”
“Isthattrue,Melville?”Margaretdemanded.
“DidLadySomersetnotalreadytellyouso?”Melvilleasked.
MargaretturnedonEliza,frowning.
“Ididnotknowifitwasasecret,”Elizadefendedherself.
Asifinproof,Melvilleraisedhisforearmsuptoindicatetheinkstainsmarringthepristinewhiteofhisshirtcuffs,withoutanysignofembarrassment.And,indeed,whyoughthetobeembarrassed?Forsomehow,onMelvilletheblemishesonlyaddedtohiselegance—andElizapromptlydecidedthatshewouldincludethemintheportrait.
“Splendid!”
“Arewetrulymeanttointerpretsuchmarksasaccidental,”Somersetasked.“Notanaffectationmeanttoconveyanartisticmystique?”
LadyHurleyandMr.Fletcherlookedon,startled.ThisbeingthefirsttimetheyhadwitnessedSomersetandMelvillesnipingatoneanother,theyhadnocontextforSomerset’ssuddensharpness.
“DoyoureallythinkIhavemystique,mylord?”Melvillesaid.“Howwonderful.Iwasbeginningtothinknoonehadnoticed.”
“Onceagain,youtakeacomplimentwherenoneexists.”
“Itmakesspeakingwithyoumoreenjoyable,yousee.”
“Willeveryoneattendtheconcertnextweek?Ithinkwecertainlywill,nowLindleyistoplay,”Elizainterjected,beforeSomersetcouldretort.HeonlyseemedtoangerfurtherthemorecheerfulMelvilleremained.
Thereweremurmursofagreementaroundthegroup.
“Iwill,”Somersetsaid.“MayIoffermyescort?”
“IamafraidLadySomersethasalreadyagreedtojoinourparty,”MelvilleclaimedandElizashothimastartledlook,forthiswasentirelyuntrue.
“Didshe?Beforeevenshedecidedtoattendherself?”
“Ah,Ihavelongknownhertobeprescient,”Melvillesaid.
“Youhavenotknownherlongatall,”Somersetsnapped.
“Weoughttogo,now,Max,”LadyCarolineinterjectedbeforeMelvillecouldrespond—toEliza’srelief.Themenwerebeginningtogiveheraheadache.
Naturally,itwasjustastheywereonthepointofexitingthattheheavensdecidedtoreopen.
“Ohblast!”Margaretsaidimproperly,staringoutintothemizzleofrain.“Justwhenweshallneverbeabletogetacab.”
WithsomanypersonsstreaminginandoutofthePumpRoom,hackneycabsandsedanchairswouldbeinshortsupply.
“Notthething,”Mr.Fletcheragreed.
“Weshallbedrowned!”LadyHurleydeclared.
“Doyouintendtolayfacedowninapuddle?”LadyCarolinesaid,amused.
“Ithinkitwouldbebestifwemakeadashforitnow,”Elizasaid,lookingupatthesky,whichwasdarkeningominously.“Beforeitbecomesanyworse.”
“Brava,LadySomersetthebrave,”Melvillesaid.“Itwillmakeforaromanticvista,atleast.”
“Thatisallverywell,mylord,”Somersetsaid,pullinghiscoataroundhim.“ButLadySomersetiswearingsilk.”
Hestrodeoutintotheroadandtheywatchedhimgo,skeptically.
“Perhapsthisisthelasttimeweshalleverseehim,”Melvillewondered.
Inatrice,however,Somersetwasreturning,andthesightofhimstridingpurposefullybacktowardthemthroughtherain,withahackneycabfollowingcloselybehindasifhehadconjureditupbysheerforceofwill—well,itwascertainlyaffecting.Andonceagain,ElizacouldnothelpbutnoticehowadmirablySomerset’sdarkfrockcoatlayacrosshisframe.He,ofcourse,hadnoneedofthebuckramwaddingsomegentlemenusedtopadouttheirouterwear.
“Thegentlemenwillhavetowalk,”hesaid,“buttheladiesshallbedry.”
“Youareamagician,mylord,”LadyHurleysaid.
“Flatterer,”Somersetaccusedhergently,andLadyHurleychuckled,acceptinghisarmupintoit.
MargaretandLadyCarolinefollowed,andthenitwasEliza’sturn.Somersetextendedhishand,andasshetookit,shethoughtshefelthimsqueezeherfingerseversoslightly.Sheturnedherheadtoregardhim,buthisexpressionwassmooth,unreadable.Perhapsshehadimaginedit.
“Ishallseeyoutomorrow,mylady,”hemurmured,beforeshuttingthedoor.
Fromthestreet,Melvilleraisedahandtogiveacheerywave.
“Lawks,”LadyHurleybreathed,asthecabdrewoff.“You’llhaveallofBath’squizzestalkingifthatkeepsup,LadySomerset.”
“I’msureIdon’tknowwhatyoumean,”Elizasaid,avoidinghereyes.
“Foramomenttheylookedabouttoduel,”LadyHurleysaid.“Itwas…mostaffecting.”Andthoughthecarriagewasnotwarm,shebegantofanherselfvigorously.“Ishouldnotmindseeingitagain,”sheadded.
“Doyouneedsmellingsalts,mylady?”LadyCarolineaskedwithanamusedsmile.
“Sincetheirbehaviorismotivedbydislikeofoneanother,”Elizasaid,“itgivesmenopleasure.”
Itwasmostlytrue—whatladywouldnotfeelafleetingenjoymentforbeingcompetedoverinsuchaway,whateverthemotive?Buttowitnesssuchacompetitionandpreventoneself—byforceofwill—fromtakinganymeaningfromit…Therewassomethingslightlytorturousaboutit.Melvillewasaflirt,Elizaknewthis,andSomersetwas…ElizadidnotknowwhatSomersetwas,butshewouldnotbereadingintohisbehavioragain
Acrossthecarriage,LadyHurleyregardedherforamoment,asifdecidingwhethershebelievedher—thencackled.
“Ifyousayso!”shesaid.14
AsFebruarydrewtowardMarch,theweatherturnedinclement.Eachdaybroughtfreshsheetsoficyrainandviciouswinds,fillingBath’sstreetswithpuddlesandbendingitstreestoinconvenientangles.InsideCamdenPlace,however,lifefeltwarm.Totheundiscerningobserver,thepatternofEliza’sdayswasnomorevariegatedthanithadbeenbefore,withmostactivitiesstillprohibitedbyhermourning.Onlookerscouldnotknow,ofcourse,thattwiceweeklyfoundElizabusywiththemostunladylikeemploymentofportraiture—outliningMelville’sshapesandshadowsuponcanvas—northatthemostregularofexcursionshadbeeninvestedwithmuchexcitementnowshewasaccompanied,almosteverywhere,bySomerset.
Friendshiphadtrulyneverbeensopleasurable.Asdiscussed,SomersetandElizametwiththelandsteward,andthoughMr.Penneyspoketoherwithacondescensionthatmadeherwanttoscream,SomersetsoconsideratelylistenedtoEliza’sopinionthroughoutthatshestill,somehow,enjoyedtheappointment.Itwasveryagreeabletofinallyhaveapersonwithwhomtodiscussthecomplexitiesoflandownership:shecouldnotdosowithherfamily,fortheywouldcertainlytrytotakeover,andMargarethadneitheranounceofinterestinfarming,norasinglequalmabouttellingherso.Somerset,however,occupiedthesamepositionasEliza:tryinghisbesttolearnadutyhehadnotbeenbornto.
“Youhaveagoodheadforthis,”hecomplimentedher,onceMr.PenneyhadleftCamdenPlacewhilehehadremainedforafurtherpotoftea.“Mostladieswouldfinditadeadbore.”
“Isthatperhapsbecausemostladiesarenotpermittedthechance?”Elizasuggested,archly.
“Ah,youmayberight,”Somersetsaid.“ThoughIstillthinkyourinterestcommendsyou.Myunclewouldhavebeenproudthatyouaretakingyourstewardshipsoseriously.”
“Perhaps,”Elizasaid.
“Youdisagree?”Somersetsaid.
Elizaditheredforamoment.WhileshehadfeltsufficientlyunencumberedthesepastfewdaystoaskafterSomerset’slifeinthenavy—wherehehadtraveled,whathehadseen,ofthefriendsmade—thesubjectoftheoldearlwasoneneitherwasyetconfidentnavigating.
“Ididnotgenerallyinspireprideinhim,”shesaidcarefully.Eveninthebeginning—mostespeciallyinthebeginning—thelateearlhadbeenfrequentlydisappointedbyherignorance.TheBalfours’familylinewascertainlygenteel,buttheywerenotfromaristocraticstock,andtherehadbeenmuch—soverymuch—thatElizahadnotknown.Youfoolishgirl,herhusbandwouldoftensay,whenshehadmadeyetanothererror,whendespitehercarefulness,shehaddonesomethingwrongagain.Youfoolishgirl.
“Inthewill,”Somersetbeganhaltingly.“Hementionedyourloyaltyand—”
“Obedience!”Elizasnapped.“Yes,Iremember.”
Somersetblinked.
“Iam…Iamgrateful,ofcourse,forthelandsIhavebeengiven,”Elizasaidmorecalmly.“Buttothinkhewasmotivatedmerelytorewardme?Itwouldnotbeverylikehim,yousee.HechangedthewillthemorningafterheandSelwynquarreled,inanger.Ifhehadlivedlonger,hemightwellhavechangeditback.”
MostprobablytheverynexttimeElizamixeduptheBaronessDigbyandtheBaronessDudley—amistakethatalwayssenthimintoarage.
“Hewasnotanaturallyaffectionateman,”Somersetconceded.
“Heshowedmoreaffectiontohishorsethanheeverdidtome,”Elizasaid,throatalittleconstricted.
Therewasapause.Onthesofa,Somerset’shandslifted,stilled,andthenreturnedtohisside.
“Butthen,Isuppose,MistywasanAndalusiangrey,”Elizaadded,andSomersetlaughedgently,seemingtounderstandthatElizawishedtoabandonthesubjectfornow.Andif,inthismomentandeachofthefivedayssince—ashefetchedherwateratthePumpRoom,promenadedwithherwheneverraineased,escortedheraroundtheliverystablesofBathtochoosemountsforherandMargaret—Somersetprovedhimselftobejustaskind,justasconsiderate,justascapableashehadbeenwhenElizafirstfellinlovewithhim…Why,weresuchqualitiesnotalsothosethatonemightadmireinafriend?
“Afriendyouwanttokiss,perhaps,”Margaretremarkedtartly,whenElizavoicedthisthoughtaloud.Shewassittinginthewindowembrasureofthedrawingroom,watchingthestreetbelowthroughtherain-stainedglass.
“Ohshush,”Elizasaid,walkingovertoadjustherhairpieceinthemirror.ItwasWednesdayeveningandtheyhaddressedfortheconcertintheirfinestgowns:Margaret’sabluecrêpedressoverawhitesatinslip,ornamentedwithearrings,necklaceandbraceletsofsapphiremixedwithpearl—asetthatlookedevenmoredivineonthanithadinthejeweler—andEliza,nowthatshewasalmostelevenmonthsintohermourning,hadbeguntoincorporatesomewhiteintoherwardrobewithagownofblackfiguredlaceoverawhiterobe.
“Areyoupreparedforhowyoumightfeelwhenheleaves?”Margaretsaidnow.“Foritisthisweek,isitnot?”
“Tomorrow,”Elizasaid,keepinghereyessteadyuponherreflection.“Andyes,Iam.”
Hervoicedidnotwaver—Elizaknewitdidnot,becauseittooksuchaneffort—butMargaretstillsnorted.
“Youhaveyourheadfirmlyinthesand,”shesaid.“Onmorethanonefront,Imightadd.”
“Praytell,”Elizasaidwithoutenthusiasm.
“HaveyougivenanythoughttowhatyouwilldowhenIleave?”Margaretasked.“AslittleasIliketothinkofitmyself,itwillbeAprilinamonth,andLaviniawillbeapproachingherseclusion.Yououghtconsiderfindinganewcompanion.ThereareplentyofrespectablewomeninBathwhowouldalsobeagreeablechoices.”
“Suchaswho?”Elizasaidgrumpily.
“WhataboutMissStewart?”Margaretsuggested.
“She’stoo…brassy,”Elizadecided.
“Mrs.Gould,then?Sheisamusingenough.”
“Inaveryliteralsortofway.”
“Whendidyoucultivatesuchahighstandardforwit?”Margaretwondered.“Come,theywouldnotbesobad.”
“Theyarenotyou,”Elizasaid.
“Thatisnottheirfault,precisely,”Margaretsaid,hersmileturnedmelancholy.
Elizaratherthoughtitwas.
“TheMelvillesarehere,”Margaretsaid,withaglanceoutofthewindow.“Oncemoreuntothebreach?”
Elizanodded,throwingonhercloakandpickingupherreticuleandfan.Theysetoutfortheconcert,everyoneonfineform,Melvilleregalingthemwithanamusingtaleofahackneycabhehadoncesharedwithawell-knownactorandhispetmonkeywhileMargaretandLadyCarolineheckledhimgood-naturedly.OnlyElizawasquiet.ShecouldnotshakeoffherconversationwithMargaretsoeasilyandremainedruffledbyunease.Hercurrentstateofcontenthadbeenhard-won,andonlyrecentlyreached;todwelluponitsveryrealprecariousnesswasnotpleasant.
TheyreachedtheUpperRoomsandcastofftheircloaksandpelisses.
“Anewgown?”ElizaaskedLadyCaroline,re-engagingherselfinconversationwithaneffort,toadmireLadyCaroline’sdressofshiningwhitelace—itsskirtfestoonedintoabellshapefarfullerthananyElizahadseenbefore.
“Yes,finally,”LadyCarolinesaid,castingadarklooktowardMelville.
Melvillecasthiseyestoheaven.
“Carolinehaslikedtocharacterizemeasapinchpenny,”hesaidtoEliza,astheybegantowalkthroughthehall,“eversinceIoncedaredtoqueryifdiamond-encrustedshoesmightbealittle…”
“Detrop?”MargaretsuggestedimpishlyandMelvillegaveadelightedlaugh.
“Ishallnothavemylessonsusedagainstme,”LadyCarolinetoldherseverely,rappingMargaret’sarmwithherfan.
Theypausedinthedoorway.InaperfectmirroringofthelasttimeElizahadattendedaconcerthere,thewholeroomturnedtostareattheentrance,onlythistime,sheandMargaretwerestandingwiththeMelvilles.Shepeeredthroughthecrowd,locatingLadyHurleyandMr.Fletcherstandingbythefire,SomersetandLadySelwynnexttothem.Elizatookinadeep,shakybreath.
“Ohlord,”Margaretmuttered,spottingLadySelwyn,too.
“Dotrytobepolite,”Elizaremindedher.
“Iamalwayspolite,”Margaretsaidwithasniff.“UnlessIamirritated.”
LadyCarolineletoutalowlaughand,twiningtheirarmstogether,theystrodeintotheroomwithalltheconvictionofanespeciallyglamorouscovenofwitches.
“?‘Double,double,toilandtrouble,’?”MelvillequotedsoftlyinEliza’searandshelaughed.Melvilleappearedinthehighestofspirits,tonight,positivelyglitteringwithenergy.
“Writingisgoingwell?”sheguessed,astheywoundtheirownwaythroughthecrowd.
“Athousandlinesdonesofar,”Melvillesaid.“IshouldhavewrittenmorewereIatAlderley;Meyler’sandDuffield’sstockonlyPorson’sEuripides,anditisnotmypreferredtranslation,butIampleased.Howcouldyoutell?”
“Youare…liveliest,onsuchdays,”shesaid,halfembarrassedtohavenoticed.
“Idlenessdoesnotsuitme,”Melvillesaid.“DespitewhatSomersetmightthink.”
Heloweredhisvoiceastheyreachedthefireplace.Elizatookanothersteadyingbreathasshecurtseyedhergreeting.ShewouldbearLadySelwyn’spresencewithgraceandfortitude.Graceandfortitude,sherepeated,asifitwereaprayer.
“Whatamarvelousmagpieyoumake,mylady!”LadySelwynsaidcattily,reviewingEliza’sblack-and-whiteensemble.
“Yes,‘magpie’wascertainlymyintention,”Elizasnapped,vowinstantlyforgotten.“Orgull.”
“Yourgownisfine,too,LadySelwyn,”Margaretsaidsharply.“MymotherhadaverysimilaronelastSeason.”
LadyCarolinesnortedandLadySelwynflushed.
“Youhaveagoodeye,MissBalfour,”LadySelwynsaid.“Ididnotthinkitquiterighttowasteanewgownonsoprovincialanevent.”
“Suchcondescensionistrulyadmirable,”LadyCarolinesaidsmoothly.
“IamnotsureaBathconcertcaneverhaveenjoyedsuchanesteemedaudience!”Mrs.Winkworthchirpedfromwhereshehoveredattheedgeofthegroup.
AswithEliza’sdinnerparty,itwasplainthatsuchanill-matchedpartycouldonlyendincalamitybutunlikeherdinnerparty,Elizafoundshedidnotcaretopreventit.
“Thisevening’sconcertiscertainlyfarmoreattendedthananyinrecentmemory,”LadyHurleyobserved,gazingabout.
“IshouldthinkwehaveMelvilletoblameforthat,”Somersetsaid.“Thescoresofyoungladiesdesirousofreceivinghissignatureseemtoclimbbytheday.”
“MydearSomerset,whileImaytakeblamefortheladies,”Melvillesaid,“Icanassureyouthatthegentlemenarenothereforme.”
HeturnedtolookpointedlytoEliza,whoavoidedflushingredonlybysheerforceofwill.
“Whatevercanyoumean,Melville?”LadySelwynasked.
“Letmeenlightenyou,mylady,”Melvillesaid.“BathisbecomingquicklyriddledwithgentlemendesirousoffixingtheirattentionwithourownLadySomerset.Onceshethrowsoffherwidow’sweeds,Bathwillbebesieged.”
Losingherinternalbattle,ElizablushedredandMelvillegrinnedasifhehadwonsomething.
“PerhapsifIwereayoungerwoman,”Elizademurred,“butIamfarintomydotage.”
Thiswasgreetedwithcriesofoutragefromthegroup.
“Notthething,”Mr.Fletcherdisagreedheartily.
“Tomineeyes,youarestillaverygreengirl,”LadyHurleysaidstoutly.
“Ididthinkyouhadbeguncalcifying,”LadyCarolinesaid,pretendingtolookElizaover.
Elizalaughed.
“Youareallverykind,”shesaid,meaningit.TenyearsofmarriagetoahusbandmoreinclinedtoadmonishmentthanadmirationhadnotgivenElizamuchreasontobelieveinherowndesirability—butwithfriendssuchasthis,shewasbeginningtostandalittletaller.
“Itisnotkindnessbutprophecy,”Melvillesaid.HelookedtoSomerset.“IntheabsenceofLadySomerset’sfather,areyoutoactasgatekeeper,mylord?”
Somerset’sfacewasrigid.
“Idonotneedagatekeeper,”Elizaputinhastily.
“AndIcouldnotperformtheroleifIwantedto,”Somersetsaid.“ForthismarksmyfinalnightinBath.”
WhichElizaknew,ofcourse,hadbeencountingdownthedayswithrisingtrepidation,butnonsensically,itstillfeltablowtohear.
“Youareleaving?”Melvilleasked,claspingahandplaintivelytohischest.“Butwehaveonlybegungettingtoknowoneanother!”
“TherearesomeurgentmattersatHarefieldImustattendto,”Somersettoldthegroup,ignoringMelville.“AndasmybusinesswithMr.Walcothasconcluded—”
“Oh,haveyoufinallygraduatedfromEarlSchool?”Melvilleinterrupted.“Youknow,Iamalittleoffendedthatyoudidnotseekmytutelageonthesubject,Somerset.”
“Areyou?”Somersetsaidflatly.
“Indeed,”Melvillesaid.“Havingbeenanearlmyselfforalmostfiveyears,IdaresayIknowathingortwoaboutit.”
“Andwhy,”Somersetbristled,“wouldIreceiveinstructionfromagentlemanwhoIdoubtevenknowshisownacreage?”
LadyHurleyandMr.FletchergaspedattheinsultwhileasmirkcurleditswayontoLadySelwyn’sface.
Melvillemerelysmiled.“Twelvethousand,”hesaid.“Myacreage,thatis.”
“Andyourprincipalcrops?”Somersetdemanded.
“Oh,aquiz,”Melvillesaid.“Marvelous.Turnips,mylord—myansweristurnips.”
SomersetglaredathimasifhesuspectedMelvilleofnamingthefirstvegetablethatsprangtomind.
“YoupracticetheFourFieldSystem,Iimagine?”
“Ofcourse.”
“AndwhatareyourviewsontheTulliandrill?”
“Goodlord,man,Idon’thaveany!”Melvillesaid.“Iconcede—mayIofferyouabushelofturnipsasyourprize?”
Thewholecompanylaughed,butSomerset,hisfacestillflushedwithanger,lookedratherasifheshouldhavelikedtohithim.
“AreyoustillthinkingofbringingyourdaughtertoBath,LadySelwyn?”Mrs.WinkworthtriedtoreclaimtheBaroness’sattention.
“No,wehavedecidedagainstitintheend,”LadySelwynsaid.“IfanythingIshouldthinkAnnietooconfidentandreallyitdoes—”
Elizatookatiny,instinctivestepback,tryingnottolisten.Shetwistedtheringuponherrighthand,andthenfussedwiththeclaspofherbracelet,whichwasnotsittingquiteright,until,underheranxiousfingers,theclaspsprangopen.Elizamadeagrabforit,butitslippedfromherwrist,onlytobecaught,justpriortoitsmashinguponthefloor,byMelville.
“Oh—thankyou,”shemurmured,acceptingitback.
“CanIhelp?”heaskedquietly,andtheydrewalittleawayfromtherestofthegroup.
“Icandoit,”Elizasaid—tohaveMelville’shandsuponherwristwouldfeeltoointimate.“Perhapsyoumightholdmyfan…?”
“Byallmeans,”Melvillesaid,takingitfromher.
Elizawrappedthebraceletaroundherwrist.Nexttoher,totallyunconcernedbythedelay,Melvilleregardedthefanthoughtfully.Itwasasilkandlacecreationheldtogetherwithfinesticksofdarktortoiseshell—hermostexpensivepurchasetodate.
“Iwishitwerestillthefashionforgentlementocarryfans,too,”hesaid.“Theyaresuchusefulcreations.”
“Doyouthinkso?”Elizasaidabstractedly,asshestruggledwiththeclasp.Almostthere.
“Ohyes,theexpressiononecanachieve!Asso.”Heunfurleditsleavesandbegantoflutteritclosetohisfacesoonlyhiseyeswerevisible—darkandlaughing.“Perceive,Iamnowshy.”
“Iperceiveit,”Elizasaid,smilingupbriefly,beforereturninghereyestotheclasp.
There!
Shestraightened.Melvilleswappedthefantohislefthandandresteditbrieflyagainsthisneck.
“Andnow?”heaskedsoftly.
Elizapulledatthethreadofhermemory—thelanguageoffanswasold-fashioned,now,buthergovernesshadinstructedherjustincase…
“Youaredesirousofmyacquaintance,”shesaid.“Melville…”
Shecuthereyestotheroom—theirpartywasnotattendingthem,buttherewerestillmanyeyesgazingintheirdirection.
“Andnow?”
Melvilleflippedthefanupsidedowntopressthehandleagainsthislips—kissme—andElizablushedfieryred.
“Melville,Iknowyouaremerelyfunning,”shehissed.“Butweareobserved!”
“Iamaware,”Melvillemurmured,atlastsnappingthefanclosedandhandingitbacktoher.“Somersetblushes,too—notascharminglyasyou,ofcourse,butnonethelessIamhopefulhewillturnpucethisevening.”
ElizalookedreflexivelytowardthefirewhereSomerset’seyeswerenowonthem,heavyandfrowning,andLadySelwyn’s,too,dartingravenouslybetweenherandMelville.Shefeltherfaceheatevenfurther.
“Ishouldprefer,”shesaid,verysoftly,“thatyoukeepmeoutofyoursquabbles;Idonotcaretobeusedasanintermediary.”
“Ididnot—”
Sherejoinedthecirclebeforehecouldfinishhisstatement,findingevenmorefacesturnedtowardher—Mrs.Winkworth’ssour,LadyHurleyraisinghereyebrowssignificantly.Elizaraisedherchindeterminedly.
“Yes…”LadySelwynsaidatlast,turningbacktoMrs.Winkworth.“AndSomersethaspromisedustheuseofGrosvenorSquareforhercoming-outball.”
Shethrewherbrotheracoyglance.
“Oneofmanypromiseshewillhavetokeepsoonenough!”
Somersetjerkedhisheadaroundtohissister.
“Notnow,Augusta,”hesaidinwarning.
“Goodness,howintriguing,”Elizasaid,tryingtokeephervoicelight.
“Mybrother,”LadySelwynsaidloudlytothewholegroup,“haspromisedthiswillbetheyearhefinallysecuresawife!”
“My,my,LordSomerset,”Mrs.Winkworthsaid.“Arethereanyhatsintheringalready?”
TherewasanoddroaringsoundinEliza’sears.Shedidnotthinkshecouldbeartolistentoasecondofthis.
“Mylady…”Mr.King,theMasterofCeremonies,appearedatEliza’selbowtospeakinafunerealwhisper,andElizahadneverbeensogladtoseeapersoninherlife.“Ihavesavedaseatataretiredspotforyouandoneother.”
“Ishallbehappytoaccompanyyou,mylady,”Melvillesuggestedquietly.
“Yes,Somerset,perhapsyoumightescortme—”LadySelwynbegan.
“Thatisquiteallright,Melville,”Somersetsaid.“Ishallbeescortingherladyship.”
HeofferedElizahisarmandshetookitautomatically,hermindstillreeling.
“Myapologies,forAugusta,”SomersetsaidinalowvoiceastheyfollowedMr.King.“Shecanbe—”
Oh,washetrulyaskinghertodiscussit,rightatthismoment?
“Thereisnoneedtoapologize,mylord,”sheinterrupted.
“Ofcoursethere—”
“Youshallhaveto…toletmeknowwhenIamtowishyouhappy,”Elizasaidhoarsely.
Somerset’sarmtensedunderhersandhetookasharpintakeofbreathasiftospeakbuttheMasterwasindicatingtheareahehaddemarcatedwithaflourish,andSomersetremainedsilent.Itwasalittleretiredfromtherestoftheaudience,andthereforeawayfromthepryingeyesofthepublic,andthoughitwasafewmoreminutesyetbeforetheperformancebegan,Elizadidnotprompthim.
Themusicstruckup.Thefirstfewpieces,performedbyanaccomplishedsopranoandtenorinturn,wereunknowntoEliza,althoughwellperformed.ThenitwastheturnofMr.Lindleyandhisquartet,shufflingtheirmusicandtweakingtheirinstruments,andElizawonderedifshemighttakethismomenttofleetheeveningentirely.Theybegantoplay,andasthefirstnotessoaredthroughtheair,Elizarealizedthatthiswasapiecesherecognized.Notthatsheknewitsname,orevenitscomposer,forshehadonlyhearditoncebefore:atLadyCastlereagh’ssummerballin’09,shehaddancedtoitwiththemansittingnexttoher.
Astheviolinsbegantosingthatunmistakablemelody,Eliza’sbreathcaught.Pleasureandhorrorwarredfordominanceinherchest.Pleasure,fortohearsuchapiecewastoberemindedofoneofthehappiestmemoriesofherlife.Horror,becauseshedidnotthinkshecouldbeartositthere,nexttohim,whileshelistened—closeenoughtotouchandyetasfarawayashehadeverbeen.
Elizaclosedhereyesandtriedtomasterherself.Itwasjustmusic.Itwasjustamemory.Shecouldbearthis,asshehadborneeverythingelse.Butjustwhenshethoughtshehaddoneit,justwhenshethoughtherselfabletobreathenormallyoncemore,Somersettookinhisownraggedbreath,andspoke.15
Wedancedtothis,didwenot?”Somersetsaid,soveryquietlythathisvoicealmostseemedtoblendwiththelowestviolininthecompany.
“Yes,”Elizawhispered,hereyesstillclosed.“At—atLadyCastlereagh’sball.”
“Iremember,”hesaid.“Youwere…youwerewearingadressthatseemedtotwinkle,somehow.”
“Itwasembroideredwithsilverthreadrosettes,”Elizasaid.Shehadbeensoproudofit.
“Icouldnottakemyeyesoffyou.”
“NorI,you.”
Itwasasiftheyhadenteredadifferentworld.Theywerespeakingsosoftly,theireyesfacingforward,lipsbarelymoving,theirwhispershardlylouderthanathought,astheyconfessedtheirmemoriesintotheairwiththekindofhonestythatbelongedtodreams.
“IleftLadyJerseymid-word,”Somersetsaid.“Sheneverforgavemeforsuchdeplorablerudeness.”
Elizacouldhearthesmileinhisvoiceevenasshekepthereyesdirectedforwardanditfeltfarmoreintimate,somehow,thanbeingabletoseeit.
Elizabreathedoutahintofalaugh.
“Mymotherhadpromisedallmydancesaway.Butyousaidthatyoudidnotcare…”
“Ididnot.Ihavenevercaredaboutanythingless.”
“Andthemusicstarted,”shesighed.
“AndItookyourhand…”
“Andwedanced…”
Shecouldseetheminhermind’seyenow,thememoryplayingbeforethem,ratherthanthemusicians.Twoyoungpersons,asimpossiblyinloveascouldbe,withnonotionthattheirdaystogetherwerealreadysonumbered.Shecouldrememberthefirmpressofhishandsaswellasiftheyweregraspinghersnow,thedragofherskirtsupontheground,thesoarofthemusicoverheard.Howithadfeltsoimpossiblyperfect.Howhopefulshehadbeen.
“Ihaveneverbeenonemuchfordancing,”hesaid.“Tootall,tooungainly…”
“Youalwaysdancedsobeautifully,”Elizadisagreed.
“Agehasalteredyourmemory,”Somersetsaidwryly,andshefeltthepressofhislegagainsthersonthebench.“Ihadallthegraceofatree.”
“Idorememberlaughingagreatdeal,”Elizaadmitted.
“Withme,Ihope,”Somersetsaid.
“Always.”
“Icouldhavedancedwithyouforeverthatnight.”
“Themusicstoppedtoosoon.”
Elizaswallowed,hermouthsuddenlydry.Shewishedtheymightlingerthere,inthatmomentandthatmomentonly—thedancing,thejoy,thesensetheirtimewasendless…
“AndIaskedifyouwantedtotakeintheair,”hesaid,softly.
“Iagreed,”shesaid,voicebarelyaudible.“Themoonwassobright.”
ShecouldstillsmellLadyCastlereagh’speonies.Almosttoosweetontheair,butonlyalmost.Itwasanightforsweetness.
“Ican’trememberwhatwespokeof,”Somersetsaid.
“Ithinkitmighthavebeentheweather,”Elizasaid.“AndallIcouldthinkofwas…”
“Andthen…”
Theypaused.Involuntarily,Elizapressedatremblinghandtoherlips,remembering.Besideher,sheheardacatchinSomerset’sbreath.
“IfIhadknown,”Somersetsaid.“Whatwastohappen…”
Ithadbeentheverynextdaythateverythinghadfallenapart.Theyhadnotevenonedaytoenjoythepromisestheyhadgiveneachother.Ithadonlybeenthatnight.
“Iwouldneverhaveletyougo,”Somersetsaid,hisvoicelow,hoarse.
Elizacouldnolongerseethemusiciansaheadthroughthetearsbuildinginhereyes,andatinysobbrokefromherthroat.
“Eliza,”hesaid,soquietlyshedidnotknowifshehadimaginedit.
“Oliver,”shesaid,brokenly.
Andthoughtheywereinpublic…thoughtherewereahundredpersonsaroundthem…shefelthisarmmoveandjustwhenshethoughthimabouttothrowcautiontothewindandtakeherhandinhis—
Themusicstopped.Everyonebegantoapplaud.Elizatookinagulpofair,and…Somersetdroppedhishand.
“Everyoneisgatheringfortea,”hesaid,hisvoiceveryrough.
Elizanoddedblindlyandstood,butfoundshecouldnotmove.Lookingtowardthelaughingfacesheadingtothetearoomsheknewshewouldnotbeabletopretendallwaswell.
“Wouldyouplease,”shebegan.“W-wouldyoupleaseinformMargaretthatIhavereturnedhome?Iamfeelingalittle…lightinthehead.”
ShedisentangledherselffromSomerset’sarmwithoutwaitingforareplyandhurriedtowardthedoor.
“LadySomerset!”sheheardhimcallafterher,butElizadidnotlookback.Shedashedfromtherooms,andthroughthehall,notevenpausingtocollecthercloakbeforesteppingoutintotheair.Shefoundherselfenvelopedimmediatelyintodrizzle,butwithanotherhalfoftheconcerttogotherewasaplethoraofhackneycabsavailabletoher,andshedidnotwaitforafootmantoprocureherone
“CamdenPlace,please!”Elizacalledtothefirstshesaw,climbinginsideandbreathingasharpsobofrelieftobefinallyalone.Butthedoorbarelyclosedbeforeitwaswrenchedopenagain.
AndSomersetwasstandingthere,hisarmbracingthedooropenagainstthewind.Hewasnotwearingacloak,hishairwasalreadydarkfromtherain,andhischestwasheavingasifhehadbeenrunning.
“Areyouallright?”hedemanded.
AndwhatwasthereleftforElizatosay,exceptthetruth?
“No,”Elizasaid,hervoicebreaking.“Iamnot.”
Therewasthemuffledsoundofaquestionfromthedriver,andSomersetabruptlyclimbedintothecarriageafterherandslammedthedoor.Thecarriagedrewoff
“Ifyouwillletmeexplain—”Somersetstarted.
“Atmydinnerpartyyouspoketomeinsuchterms,”Elizaoverrodehim,“asIthoughtmadeanyromanticfeelingbetweenusanimpossibility.”
“IlashedoutwithanangerItrulyregret,”Somersetsaidurgently,claspingherhands.“Imustassureyou,thesentimentsIalludedtothatevening—theonesIspoketoattheendofouracquaintance,somanyyearsago—arenotonesIfeelanylonger.”
“Theyarenot?”Elizaasked.
“Iunderstandnowthatyouractionsspoketoanabundanceofduty,ratherthanalackofspirit,”hesaid.
“Youdo?”Elizaasked.
“Ido,”Somersetsaidemphatically.“Ihaveforalongtime,now.”
Elizastaredathim.
“Butatthedinnerparty…”shesaid.
“Icannotexcusemybehavior,”Somersetsaid.“Ihadthought,uponmyreturntoEngland,thatIhadlongagoovercomethe…angerIfelttowardyouuponleavingtheseshores.Butbeinginyourpresenceagain,Iwasnotpreparedforthefeelingswhichwouldarise.”
Hegrimaced,andadded,withadefeatedshrug,“AttimesithasfeltjustasifIameighteen,again.”
“Forme,too,”Elizawhispered.
“Iamnotaloneinit,then?”Somersetsaid.
“No,”Elizabreathed.“No,notatall.”
Thereliefsweepingthroughherfeltsufficientenoughtoknockheroffherfeet.Shehadnotthought…Shehadnothoped
“AndIconfess,”hecontinueddoggedly,“thatthereasonIhavelingeredsolonginBath—beyondanythingthatmydutyrequiredofme—isbecause…BecauseIstill…”
AndElizaknewwhathewasgoingtosay,evenashehesitated—knewtoothatifthewordswerespoken,theycouldnotgoback.
“Istillloveyou,too,”shesaid.
Itwasthebravestthingshehadeverdone.Somersetjerkedbackasifhehadbeenshot.
“Mylady,”hebreathed.“Thenatureofourlocalitypreventsmefrombeingable—”
Butaftertenyearsofwaiting,Elizawouldnotallowherselftobeinconveniencedbysuchanonsensicalpieceofhonor.Shereachedoutandlaidatremblinghanduponhisshoulder,tracingherfingersdownthefronttogriphislapel.
“Somerset,”shesaid,withclearinstruction.Then,softly,“Oliver.”
“Eliza.”
Hekissedher.Andthoughtheyhadonlysharedsuchanembraceoncebefore,theyfellintooneanotheraseasilyasiftheyhaddonesoathousandtimes.
“Imissedyoudearly,”shewhisperedwhentheybrokeapart,theirforeheadsstillpressedtogether,hisbreathstillghostingacrossherlips.“WhenIsawyouagain,Iwassureyouhadquiteforgottenallthathadpassedbetweenus.”
Somersetshookhisheademphatically.
“ThenIamabetteractorthanIthought,”hesaid.“ForIwasovercome.”
Heembracedheragainandshehadforgottenwhatitfeltliketobekissedinsuchaway.Notforduty,notforobligation,butwithsuchintentthattostopeventobreathefeltunthinkable.
“Oh,whatarewetodo?”Elizasaid,whenatlasttheyparted.
“Well,Ishouldhopethatafterkissingmeinsuchaway,youwouldintendtomarryme,”Somersetsaid,laughingalittle.
“Wecannotbecomeengagedbeforeayearandadayhaspassed,”Elizasaid.“Thedisgrace…”
“Notuntilyouenteryourhalf-mourning,atleast,”Somersetagreed.“Untilthen,itshallhavetoremainasecret.”
“AndwhataboutMargaret?”Elizaaskedanxiously.
“WhataboutMargaret?”Somersetsaid.
“Sheisneededbyhersister,forthenewbaby,”Elizasaid.“Butthen—after—shewilllivewithus.”
“Willyouhaveneedofacompanionwhenwearemarried?”Somersetaskeddoubtfully.
“IwillalwayshaveneedofMargaret,”Elizasaid.
Somersetpickedupherhandandkissedit.
“Youareverysweet,”hesaid.“Ofcourse.Shewillbemyfamilytoo,soonenough.”
ThisreassuredElizaonlyforamoment.
“Yourfamilydespiseme,”shesaid,coveringherfacewithagroan.
Somersetcouldnotdisagree.
“Theyareprotective,”hesaid,drawingherhandsdowngentlyandcoveringthemwithhisown.“AndIthinktheywilllikeyouagreatdealmorenowthatTarquinwillinheritChepstowagain.”
“Whateverdoyoumean?”Elizasaid.
“Oh,justthatit—well,itwouldgoalongwaytoeasingmatterswithmysister…”Somersetsaid.
“ButChepstowismine,”Elizasaid.
“Andwhenwearemarried,itwillbeours,”Somersetremindedher.
“But…butitwasgiventome,”Elizasaid.Shedidnotknowwhy,exactly,shewasfixatingonsuchapointasthis—itwas,afterall,aminoroneincomparisontoatlastmarryingthepersonshehadlovedallofheradultlife.
“Itwasgiventome,”sherepeatedquietly.Surelythatcountedforsomething?
Somerset’sgazeflickeredbetweenhereyesasifhecouldnotquiteunderstandherexpression.
“Eliza,isthisnotoursecondchance?”hesaid,whenshedidnotspeak.“Itmaynothavebeenwhatmyuncleintended,butisthisnotworthsacrificingwhateverweneedto?”
Thelookinhiseyeswassotender,sovulnerable,thatshewasnotsureshecouldbeartoseeit.Andifthiswastheirsecondchance,Elizawantednothingmorethantograspitwithbothhandsandneverletgo,but…TryasshemighttofocusonlyuponSomerset,hermindwasracing.Therewassomuchtheyhadyettodiscuss.Somuchabouthernewlifethathedidnotknow.Shehadnoteventoldhimabouttheportrait,yet,buthowtobroachsuchatopicnow,inacarriage,whentimealreadyfeltasifitwererunningout.
“Thereismuchwehavenotspokenof,”Elizasaidsoftly.
Somersetduckedhisheadtocatchhereye.
“Wehavetime,”hesaidgently.“Weloveeachother.Everythingelse,wecansolve.”
Hemadeitsoundsosimple.Itwassosimple.Eliza’sfrownslidfromherface.
“Wecan,”sheagreed.
“Andwhilecircumstanceshavenotbeenkindtous,inthepast,”hesaid,“wehavethemeanstochangethat,now.Weshalldobetter.”
Shesqueezedhishandsinreturn.
“Weshalldobetter,”sheagreed.
Thecarriagedrewtoastop.Therewasathumpontheroof.
“Fiveminutes!”Somersetcalledinresponse.Then,cuppinghishandtoherjaw,hespokeurgently.“Istillmustleavetomorrow.Imusttakeatourofmylands—Iamafraidwiththisrecentrainofthembecomingfloodedout—butIwillwrite.Andinsixweeks,Ishallreturn.”
“Verywell,”Elizawhispered,leaningintohistouch.
Shehadwaitedtenyears.Shecouldwaitsixmoreweeks.
“Andinsixweeks,youshallbeinhalf-mourning,”Somersetsaid.“Ishallaskyoutomarryme.”
“Insixweeks,”Elizasaid,liftinghereyestohis,“Ishallsayyes.”
Hepulledhertowardhimoncemore.
“Willyoubeallrightalone,whileIamgone?”Somersetsaid,featheringakissontothecornerofhermouth.
“IwillhaveMargaret,”Elizasaid.“AndLadyHurleyandtheMelvilles…”
Somerset’sjawclenchedunderherpalm.
“Idonotatalllikethewayhelooksatyou,”Somersetsaid.
“Andhowisthat?”Elizasaid,laughingalittlebecausehewasjealousandMelvillehadbeenrightallalong.
“ItisthewaythatIlookatyou,”Somersetadmitted.
“Listentome,”Elizasaid,tugginguponhishands.“Melvilleflirtswithme,Iwon’tdenyit.Buthedoesnotmeanitseriously.Youmustnoteheflirtsaseasilyasbreathing.”
Somersetraisedhisbrowsincomicaldisbelief.
Elizawrinkledherbrow,wantingtoreassurehimbuthardlyknowinghow.ForMelville’sattentionshadbeenassiduousandshehadbeenenjoyingthem,truthfully.Howcouldonenotenjoybeingsoflattered,especiallybyagentlemanwhodiditsowellasMelville?Butitwasnotreal—hewasamusinghimself,only.
“Melvillehashadamistressinkeepingforseveralyears,”Elizasaid.“Whomhehasbeenverymuchinlovewith,andsoIhardlythinkhimlikelytohavereattachedhisaffectionstomeonsuchshortnotice.Hisattendanceuponmeismotivedmorebydislikeofyou.”
“Hetoldyouthis?”Somersetsaid,agooddealconsternated.
“No,”Elizalaughed,shakinghimgentlybyhislapels.“Thegossipiseverywhere.”
SomersetappearedtornbetweenamusementanddisapprovalatEliza’sreferencetomattersofwhichladieswereexpectedtohavenoknowledge.
“Ifitistrue,Idonotseethatitmakeshimanymoretrustworthy,”hesaid.
“Butdoyoutrustme?”Elizaasked.
“I—ofcourse,”Somersetsaid.“ButyouarestillsomuchtheinnocentandI—”
“Iamnotsuchthegreengirlthatyouthinkme,”Elizainsisted.“Iamwellabletolookaftermyself,Ipromise.”
Somersetpickedupherhandandkissedit.
“IlookforwardtothedaywhenImightdothatforyou,”hesaid.
ElizaknewsheoughttotellhimnowthatshewaspaintingMelville’sportraitbuttherewasanotherthumpontheroofandElizabitthewordsback.Therewassimplynotsufficienttime—theexplanationwasonething,butthereassuranceitwouldrequirewouldbefarlengthier.Shewoulddosoinherletters.
“Won’tyoucomeinside?”Elizaasked.
“No,”Somersetsaid.“WebothdisappearedintheintervalandtherewillcertainlybetalkunlessIshowmyfaceagain.Besides…”
Hisgazewaswarmashelookedherover.
“Imaybeagentleman,”hesaid,“butevenIamnotimmunetoalltemptation.”
Elizablushed.
“Ah,somyshyElizastillexists,too!”Somersetsaid.“Iamgladtoseeher.”
Hekissedheronelasttime,lips,handsandfinallyeyesalllingeringuponherasifallwereequallyreluctanttolethergo.
“Sixweeks,”hesaid,whethertoremindherorhimself,Elizadidnotknow.
“Sixweeks,”Elizarepeated,assheclimbedoutofthecarriage.
ThePelican
March1st1819
Eliza—
Iawokethismorningalreadysmiling.Lastnightfeelssweeterthananydream,andIwriteyouthisnotefornomorereasonthantoprovetomyselfthatittrulydidoccur.
IalreadymissyoumorethanIamabletoconveyhere,andtheonlysolaceIcanfindoverourpartingisknowingthatwhennextwemeet,Ishallfinallycallyoumyfiancée.MyLadySomerset.
Writetomeassoonasyouareable.Icannotpromisetocomposeyoubeautifulodesinreturn—intruthIhavealwaysbeenanindifferentletterwriter—butIwouldhaveyoutellmefullyandhonestlyofyourdayswhileIamgone.ThereisnotadetailIshouldfindtoodullfromyourpen.
Pleaseconsidermeyours,alwaysyours,
Oliver16
Bathdawnedcold,brightanddrythenextday.Itwasthekindofmorningthatfeltlikeabeginning,andasElizaandMargaretsteppedoutofCamdenPlace,Elizawashard-pressednottoconsideritasignofsorts.Shesmiled.ShehadnotbeenabletostopsmilingsinceaboyfromthePelicanhaddeliveredherSomerset’snoteanhourprevious,herheartsobrimmingwithjoythatshefeltcertainitmustbespillingoutofhertotherestofthestreet.
“Thesatisfactionmightbeapproachingalittlemuch,Eliza,”Margaretsaid,regardingherindulgently,andElizalaughed,twiningtheirarmstogetherandsettingoffatabrisktrot.
Shehadhardlysleptthenightbefore—tooalightwithemotiontodoanythingotherthansketchidlyuntiltheearlyhoursofthemorning,hermindturningthenightbeforeoverandoverinhermind,andyetshedidnotfeeltired,butratherrestlesswithenergy.
TheywereboundforMr.Berwick’spaintingrooms,justoffMonmouthStreet,wherehehadbegunexhibitinghisnewworks.HehaddeliveredtheinvitationtoMargaretattheconcert’sintervalthenightbefore,andassoonasMargarethadletitslipthismorning,Elizawashurryingherintoherpelisseandnudgingheroutthedoor,motivatedasmuchbyadesiretobeout,tobemoving,asbycuriosity.ThesunhittheirfacesastheypassedontoLansdownRoadandElizaliftedherheadtobeabletoenjoyitallthemore,smilingagain.Itwasawonderfulday.
“Yourengagementwillnotremainasecretforlong,ifyoucontinuebeaminginsuchaway,”Margaretsaid,laughing.
Elizashushedherhalf-heartedly.
“Iamnotengaged,”sheremindedher.“More…engagedtobeengaged.”
“Verydifferent,”Margaretsaid.“Itisagoodthing,then,thatIhadnotyetbadgeredyouintoacceptingMrs.Gould’s—veryliteral—companionship.Thisisafarsuperiorstatetoleaveyouin.”
“Iamgladyouthinkso,”Elizasaid.“ForIhadwonderedifperhaps—onceyoursister’schildishandedofftoagoverness—youmightmakeyourhomewithus.”
Margaretgaveabarkoflaughter.
“IdonotthinkSomersetwouldbehappytoshareyourcompany,sosoonintoyourmarriage,”shesaid.
“Hehasalreadyagreed,”Elizasaid.
“Underduress?”
“No,”Elizainsisted.“Heisfondofyou,himself—andheknowsthatyouareimportanttome.”
“Weshallsee,”Margaretsaiddubiously.Then,nudgingEliza’selbow,sheadded,“Iamdelightedtoseeyoumadesohappy,Eliza,butareyousureyouwishtoquitBathforHarefield?”
Elizacouldnotpreventtheinstinctiveshudderthatranthroughheratthethought.But—
“Harefieldwillfeeldifferent,withhim,”shesaid.“Iamsureofit.”
Theywouldcloseupthestateapartments,ridthehouseofitsgloomiestmemorabilia,lightthefires—andbesides,ElizaimaginedtheywouldspendmostoftheyearinLondon,oronvisits,orinvitingfriendsforlonghouseparties..
“Whatfriendsarethese?”Margaretaskedgently,whenElizavoicedthisaloud.“LadyHurley?Melville?WouldSomersetliketohavesuchpersonsvisithim?”
Elizafrowned.LadyHurley,perhaps,forSomersethadsoftenedtowardher,buttheMelvilles—thethoughtwaslaughable.Thetroublewas,whenotherwisewouldsheseeMelville—andLadyCaroline,ofcourse—ifshecouldnotissuesuchaninvitation?Equitableranktheymightbe,buttheyhardlyraninthesamecircles,usually—thattheyhadcomeacrosseachotherinBathatallwasutterhappenstance.Or,perhapsfate,ifonewasfeelingmorepoetic,thatis.
“Ithinkwearehere,”Margaretsaid,peeringaround,andElizashookthethoughtsfromherhead.Somersethadvoiceditcorrectly,afterall.Theywouldsolveallsuchproblems,oncetheyweretogetheragain.
Mr.Berwick’sshowroomsat2WestgateBuildingshadoncebelongedtoportraitistThomasBeach,andtheyweresomagnificentinsizeandambience—Mr.Berwickhademployedaviolinisttoplaywhilsthisguestsbrowsed—thatElizawasimmediatelystruckbyjealousy.Howshewouldlovetohavesuchspaciousroomsavailabletoher,apaintingroomwithperfectlightandacapaciousshowroomcalculatedtodisplayherpiecestotheirutmostadvantage—tofeelconfidenttoexhibit,ratherthanhide.
“Itisimpressive,”Margaretsaidbegrudgingly,astheybeganaslowcircuitoftheroom,pausingtogazeatthelandscapesandportraitstheypassed.ElizahadhopedtoconfirmthatMr.Berwick’sself-satisfactionwasentirelyunwarranted,butthathehadtalentwasnotsurprising.HehadexhibitedsofrequentlyattheRoyalAcademy,afterall,andthoughhewashardlyanexcitingartist,Elizahadtoacknowledge,asshestoodinfrontofathree-quarter-lengthportraitofawoman—VanDyck–inspired,certainly,withthefrothoffabric,laceandflowersallabouther—hisgiftwithabrush.
“Goodmorning,LadySomerset.”Mr.Berwickappearedeagerlyathershoulder.
Thoughitwasstillmorning,hewasturnedoutinprimestyle,adiamondpinstuckinhiselaboratelyknottedneckcloth,andElizanoticedhewasnowwearinghiscuffsalittlepaintsplattered,inMelvillianfashion.
“Iamsogladyoucouldattend!Ah,IseeyouareadmiringMadameCatalani!”
MadameCatalani?Elizaturnedbacktoregardthepaintingagain.Shesupposeditcouldbeher:herhairwasthecorrectcolor,afterall,andshewaswearingthesamedressshehadwhensheperformedattheAssemblyRooms,althoughasMr.BerwickhadrenderedherskinpalerandherframefarslighterthanElizaremembered,andbafflingly,ashavingfarmoredécolletagethanshepossessedinreality,Elizahadnotrecognizedher.
“Areyousurewearelookingattherightone?”Margaretsaid,disbeliefclearinhervoice.
Fortunately,thefortificationsofMr.Berwick’segorantoodeepforhimtonotice.
“Everyonehaspraisedthelikenessmosteffusively,”Mr.Berwicksaid.“Mr.Fletcherdeemeditabsolutelysplendid.”
Elizasmiled.Ofcoursehedid.
“ButyousimplymustseetheportraitIexhibitedlastyear,”Mr.Berwicksaid.“Come—theMorningPostpraiseditsinnovatoryuseofcolor…”
Margaretsnortedquietlyastheyfollowed.
“Behold!”Mr.Berwicksaid,standingbackandgivingarapturoussighasheregardedthepainting.Itwaslargerthantheothers—theonlyfull-lengthportraitintheroom—oilonwood,thesubjectposedinaclassicalstyle.Thewholeeffectwascertainlyaccomplished,butthelongeronelooked,themorethatseemedalittleoff.Theproportionsofthesubject’sbodywerepeculiar:thetorsotoolong,thelegs,oncloseexamination,curved,likeawishbone.Elizasteppedforward.Atcloserquarters,thepastoralbackdropwasallwrong:asheeplargerthanahorse,ahorsestandingatthesameheightasachicken.Itwasafarmyardfromanightmare.
“Somehavecalleditamasterpiece,ofcourse,butImyselfthinkitisnotaboveadequate.”
Ifthat.Elizahadassumedsuchaportrait—whichhadstoodamongthegreatartistsoftheage,witheyesandimportanceandconsequenceaffordedontoit—wouldbemilesandmilesaboveherownworkinquality.Buthadsheshownsuchapaintingtohergrandfather,hewouldhaverappedherovertheknuckleswithapaintbrush.
“Oh,Mrs.Winkworthhasjustarrived—ifyouwillexcuseme…”
Mr.Berwickbustledoff.MargaretsteppedlevelwithEliza,peeringforwardherself.
“Imustsay,thisoughtmakeyoufeelagreatdealmoreconfident,”shesaid.
“Itdoes,”Elizasaid.“Italmostmakesmethink…”
“Yes?”
“Itisofnoimport,”Elizasaid,decidingnottovoicethethoughtaloud.
ForwhatpurposewouldsubmittingherownportraitofMelvilletotheSummerExhibitionserve,otherthanvanity?Shewastemptingfatesufficientlybypaintingtheportraitinthefirstplace,wasshenot?Andevenifherfortunenolongerfeltquitesoprecarious—Somersetwashardlygoingtoremovehisfiancée’sincome—shestillhadtofindawayofexplainingthewholeschemetoSomersetinawayhewouldunderstand.Itwasmorethanenoughtoworryabout,withoutaddingnewpressure.Certainly,itwouldbetherealizationofeverychildhooddreamshehadharbored,eversinceherfirstvisittoSomersetHouseattenyearsofage.Itmightconstituteproof,finally,thatshedidhaveskill,didhavetalent.Itmightallowhertocallherself,atlast,anartist.
“Shallwebeoff?”Margaretasked.“Ihaveafewbookstofetchfromthelibrary.”
“IthinkIshallreturndirectlyhome,”Elizadecided,astheysteppedoutofthesaloonbackontothestreet—Stavesthefootmanspringingbacktotheirsidefromwherehehadbeenwaiting.
“WritingtoSomerset?”Margaretguessed,grinning.“Verywell,Ishallseeyouanon.”
Theyturnedinoppositedirections,andasElizawoundherwaythroughthestreetsataleisurelypace,shelookedaroundherwithrenewedadmiration.KnowingthatherdaysinBathwerenumbered,Elizafeltallthemoreawareofitsbeauty,itsshiningstone,itshillsuponhills,theregalcurveofitstownhouses:itwasjustsobeautiful.ShewascrossingontotheRoyalCrescent,justforthepleasureoflookinguponit,whenawildclatteringofwheelshadherturningaround,startledtosee,careeringdownthestreettowardherattopspeed,ashininghigh-perchphaeton.Init,resplendentinaridinghabitàlaHussarandatallbeaverhatplumedwithcurledfeathers,wasLadyCaroline.
Elizaletoutagenuinegasp.Itwaswellknown,ofcourse,thatLadyCarolinewasaprodigiouswhip,butitwasquiteanotherthingtoseeitinreallife.
“LadyCaroline!”Elizaexclaimed,bothinshockandingreeting,asCarolinebroughtthehorsestoaprancingstopbesideher—hergroomjumpingdowntoholdtheirheads.
“IorderedmyphaetondownfromAlderley,”LadyCarolinesaidinexplanation,hereyessparkling.“Hangtheexpense!Doyoulikeit?”
“Itismagnificent,”Elizasaid.
“MayItakeyouupforawhile?”LadyCarolinesaid,extendingahandininvitation.“IhavejusttakenLadyHurleyupforafewstreets,butIshouldliketospreadtheirlegsproperlyoutoftown.”
Elizahesitated.Thehigh-perchphaetonlookedveryprecarious,thefrailbodyofthecarriagehangingdirectlyoverthefrontaxle,itsbottomafullfivefeetfromtheground.Andshewasonlybarelydressedforwalking—asturdypelissethrownoverherflimsymorningdressinherhastetoleavethehouse.And,further,whatwouldbeconsideredtypicallyeccentricofLadyCarolineinLondonmightwell,forLadySomersetinBath,beremarkeduponasdreadfullyunusual.
But…Withherengagement—heralmostengagement—werenotthedaysofwatchingherbehaviorsocloselybehindher?
“Iwouldloveto,”shesaid,feelingreckless,andafterbiddingherfootmanreturntoCamdenPlacewithouther,sheacceptedthegroom’sassistanceintothecarriage.
Elizahadriddeninahigh-perchphaetononcebefore,invitedbyagentlemaninherfirstSeason—buteitherhermemoryhadfailedher,orthatyoungbuckhadbeenafarmoresedatedriverthanLadyCaroline,forthisfeltlikesomethingdifferententirely.Exhilarationwastoosmallawordforit.Thecarriage,sounlikeitsplacidcousin,thebarouche,offerednoprotectiontoitsridersatall,andthoughthedayhadfeltnotoverlywindywhilewalking,perchedabovethespokesanddrivingatwhatmustbetenmilesanhouratleast,itbuffeteddirectlyintoherface.Bytheendofthestreet,Elizawasbreathless.BythetimetheypassedoutofBathandintothefieldssurroundingthecity,shewasclutchingtightlytoherbonnetforfearitsribbonwasnotstrongenoughtokeepituponherheadandlettingoutinvoluntaryshoutsateverytightturn.
LadyCarolinetookthemonawidelooparoundBath,andonlyoncetheyseemedtobeonthereturnjourneydidsheallowthehorsestoslowsufficientlyforproperconversation.
“Oh,Ineededthis!”LadyCarolinesaid,shakingherheadlikeoneofherhorses.“Mymindsimplydoesnotworkwithoutexertion—Ihavebeenstrugglingtowritesincewearrived.”
“Itmustbedifficult,towriteagainaftersuchadelay,”Elizanoted,raisingherheadtothesunshine.
“Oh,therehasbeennodelay,”LadyCarolinesaid.“Iamalwayswriting—itisjustpublishingthatIhaveavoidedthesepastyears.ThebrouhahaafterKensingtonwassuchthatIhadtoretreatfromsociety,forawhile.”
“You—retreat?”Elizasaid,unabletomaskherincredulity.NothinginLadyCaroline’sdeportment—sofearlessandglamorous—hadgivenElizareasontobelieveshewasbotheredbyscandal.
LadyCarolinenavigatedatrickyturnofthejunctionwithanunhurriedflickofherwrist.
“YoucannothavebeeninLondonatthetime,”shesaid.“Ourclosestfriendspaidnomindtotheoutcry,butmanyhostesseswouldnotreceiveme.AndwhileittookCarolineLambtwoyearstobereadmittedtoAlmack’safterGlenarvon—afarmoreimproprietoustext—theywereslowertoforgiveme.Butthen,standardsforMelvilleandmewillalwaysbedifferentthantheyareforourcousins—asmymothersooftenwarnedus.”
“YouarerelatedtotheLambs?”Elizasaid,thoughitoughtnotsurpriseher,forthearistocracydidhaveawretchedhabitofmarryingtheirownrelatives.
“AndthePonsonbys,thoughmoredistantly,”LadyCarolinesaid.“Ourfamilytreesareallhopelesslytangled.”
ElizaregardedLadyCarolineoutofthecornerofhereye.
“The…IrishPonsonbys,too?”sheaskedtentatively.TherehadbeenanotherarticleinthenewspaperthatweekaboutMissSarahPonsonbyandhercompanionMissEleanorButler,dubbedtogetherthe“LadiesofLlangollen,”thathadmadesomescandalousintimations.
“IfyourefertoMissSarahPonsonby,thenyes,”LadyCarolinesaid,seeingthroughElizawithease.“ThoughIhavenogossipforyou.”
Elizaflushedpink.
“ThesequeltoKensington,”shesaidinaquickchangeofsubjectforshedidnotwantLadyCarolinetothinkherscurrilous,“youmeantopublishit?”
“IfIcan,”LadyCarolinesaid.
“Andyouarenotconcernedabouttheconsequences?”
“CertainlyIam,”LadyCarolinesaid.“ItiswhyIplantoseekrefugeinParisthissummer.Distanceshouldinsulatemealittlefromcondemnation.”
“But…thenwhyriskit?”
“BecauseIwantto,”LadyCarolinesaid,asifitwerethatsimple.“ItistheworkIamproudestofandI’llbedamnedifIwillbeintimidatedoutofpublishingit.”
“Youdonotthinkitbetterto…wait,”Elizasaid.“Untilamorefortuitoustime?”
Shethought,briefly,ofthesteadilygrowingmurmurslinkingMelvilleandLadyPaulet.
“Itireofwaiting,”LadyCarolinesaid.“Ishallnotdoitanymore.”
“Youareverybrave,”Elizasaid.“Icouldnot…”
“Couldn’tyou?”LadyCarolinesaid.“AndwhatofMelville’sportrait?”
Elizashookherhead.
“Itwillalwaysremainanonymous,”shesaid.ShewasundernoqualmsthatSomersetwaslikelytofindtherevelationofherpaintingMelville’sportraitdifficultenough,withoutitbeingpubliclyknown.“Ididthink,however…Ididwonder…”
ElizalookedatthesideofLadyCaroline’sface,ditheringforamoment,beforedecidingthatwhileMelvillemightbeblindlysupportive,LadyCarolinewouldsurelyanswerherhonestly.
“IdidwonderaboutsubmittingtheportraittotheSummerExhibition,”shesaidinarush.“IsawtheworkMr.Berwickistosubmit,andIthink—well,Idonotthinkmineisallthatmuchworse.Butthen,whyshouldIdosuchathing—evenanonymously,itwillonlyinvitemoreinquiry,morespectacle,andfornogainotherthanvanity.”
“AndforwhatreasondoyouthinkMr.Berwicksubmitshiswork?”LadyCarolineaskedpolitely.
“Forpublicity,Iamsure,”Elizasaid.“Howelsewillheearnaliving?”
“Hehasanindependentincomeoftwothousandpoundsayear,”LadyCarolinesaid.“Ashetoldmehimself.”
Elizadigestedthisforamoment.
“Ambitionandpridearenotmuscleswomenaregenerallyencouragedtocultivate,”LadyCarolinesaid.“Butthatdoesnotmeanweareincapableoflearning.Ifyourtruequalmisalackoftalent,well,restassuredthatMelvillehasknownenoughartiststoknowskillwhenheseesit.”
“DoyourefertoLadyPaulet?”Elizaasked,beforeshecouldstopherself.
LadyCarolinegaveanincriminatingpausebeforeanswering.
“Yes,wehaveoftenbeeninherway,”LadyCarolinesaid.
“Issheaswonderfulastheysay?”Elizaasked.
AlandscapeartistofgreatrenownevenbeforehermarriagetoLordPaulet—himselfagreatpatronofthearts—LadyPaulet’spraiseswereregularlysungacrossalltheelegantdrawingroomsofLondon’sWestEnd.
“Sheisastalentedastheysay,ifthatiswhatyouaremeaning,andquiteascapricious,”LadyCarolinesaid.Shedidnotsay“capricious”asifitwereacompliment.
“Andsheisabeauty?”Elizaasked,unabletohelpherself.Shewasnotsurewhatshewouldgainfromknowingtheladywasbeautiful—ofcourseLadyPauletwouldbe,tohaveensnaredagentlemansuchasMelville—butshefoundherselfravenousfordetail.
“Sheiscertainlynotthesortofwomanonecaneasilylookawayfrom,”LadyCarolinesaid.
Elizanoddedtensely.Shewishedshehadnotasked.
“TherumorssaythatsheandMelvillewere…closelyacquainted,”shesaid,peepingatLadyCarolinefromthecornerofhereye.
“IhadnotrealizedthatparticularpieceofgossiphadalreadyreachedBath,”LadyCarolinesaid,voiceneutral—whichwastantamounttoanadmission,inEliza’sview.
“Rumorhasit,”Elizadecidedtoriskbluntness,“thatLordPaulet’sdiscoveryoftheaffairiswhatledyoutocomehere.”
“Icannotspeaktomybrother’sprivateaffairs,”LadyCarolinesaidbriskly,“thoughyoumayrestassuredthatallinvolvedsufferedagreatdeal.”
Elizasubsided,feelingherselfchastised,andtheydroveinsilenceforawhile—ElizaadmiringLadyCaroline’sgracefulhandlingofthereins.
“Howcameyoutobeabletodrivesowell?”Elizaasked.
“Mymothertaughtme,”LadyCarolinesaid.“Myfathertaughther.”
“Ididnotknowthatshedrove,too,”Elizasaid.
“Mymotherwascarefulalwaystobehaveastheperfectladyofqualityinpublic,”LadyCarolinesaidbriefly.
“Butshewasacceptedintosociety,wasshenot?”Elizasaid,browwrinkling.“IthoughttheQueen’spatronagehad…”
“Acceptancewasnotsosimplyachieved,”LadyCarolinesaid.“Therewerethosewhofoundherafascination,buttoothers,shehadtodomuchmorethansimplychange‘Nur’to‘Eleanor.’Eachdaywasanexerciseinprovingherrefinement,herEuropeansensibility,herknowledgeofEnglishcustom.”LadyCaroline’smouthtwistedintoaratherbittersmile.“WhileEnglishladiesallaroundherbedeckedtheirbodiesinBengalmuslin,theirshouldersinKashmirshawlsandtheirhousesinchintzwithoutasinglethought.”
Elizahadnotknown—well,shehadassumed,naively,thatsaveforafewspitefulpersons,allhadbeenresolvedwiththeQueen’sblessing.
“Andyoudonot…”Elizasaid,hermindflickeringbacktoLadyCaroline’sdecisiontohangsocialconsequence.“Youdonotfeelasimilarpressure?”
“Itisalittledifferentforme,”LadyCarolinesaid.“Iwasbornhere.Igrewupwiththesonsanddaughtersofdukesandearlsasmyplaymates.Myskinislighter.Itisnoteasy—butitisdifferent.”
Elizanodded,silently.
“AtAlderley,though,wecouldalwaysbeatease,”LadyCarolinesaid.“ItwasthereMothertaughtmetodrive.”
“Ialwaysthoughtitwouldbeawonderfulthingtoknowhowtodo,”Elizasaidenviously.
“Youcanalwayslearn,”LadyCarolinesaid.
Elizalaughed.“Andwhoonearthwouldagreetoteachme?”
“Why,Iwould,”LadyCarolinesaid,quitecasually.“Letusstartnow.”
“Youcannotbeserious!”Elizasaid.
“Iamquiteserious—youhavebeenobservingmedoitforalittlewhilenow.Come,takethereins.”
“LadyCaroline,Idonotthinkthisisatall—”Elizabegantoobject.
“Oh,docallmeCaroline,”shesaidimpatiently,droppingthereinsintoEliza’slap.Alarmed,Elizaseizedthemandpushedthembacktowardher,butCarolinewhippedherhandsbehindherbacksothatshecouldnot.
ElizalookedtoWardlaw,Caroline’sgroom,perchedbehindher,hopinghemightofferassistance,buthemerelygazedbackather,ahintofamusementinhiseyes.
“Donotlooktohimforhelp,LadySomerset!”Carolineinstructed.“Comenow,Ithoughtyouwantedtolearn.”
“Ihavenotthefaintestideaofwhattodo!”
“Donotlooksofrightened!”Carolinesaid.“Now,holdthemasso…”
Itwasfarlessexhilarating,farmoreterrifying,tobethedriverratherthanthepassenger,andElizahunchedlowoverthereins,hereyeswidewithnerves,feelingshemightturntostonewithhowtightlysheheldherself.
“Trynottolooksopained,”Carolineinstructed.“Itisnotatalldashingifonelookspained.”
“Iamtryingnottokillus,”Elizasaidthroughgrittedteeth.
“Atthispace,Ithinkitfarmorelikelythatweperishfromstarvation,”Carolinemuttered.“Theperilispartofthefun!”
SheletElizahavethereinsforafulltwentyminutes.AsBathbegantoriseuparoundthemoncemore,Carolinetookthereinsbackforthefinalfewmiles.TheydrewupoutsideCamdenPlaceandElizagatheredherskirtsaroundher—bone-tired,butthrilledwithherself—butCarolinelaidahandonherarm,stoppingher.
“LadySomerset,”shesaid.“Eliza.Youmayignoremeifyouwish,but…Ithinkthattohavethemeansandtheopportunity,buttonotact,simplybecauseyouareafraid—itwouldbethemostterriblewaste.”
Herfacewasuncharacteristicallyearnest.
“Thankyou,”Elizasaid.“Fortoday.”
“PleasepassonmyregardstoMissMargaret,”Carolinesaid,gatheringupherreins.“Andinformherweshallbetacklingthefuturetenseuponthemorrow.”
Andshesetherhorsesbrisklyoffoncemore,leavingElizainthedustwithagreatdealtothinkabout.
CamdenPlace
March2nd1819
Oliver,
Thedayswithoutyoudrawlong,butIhavewaitedfortoomanyyearstoquailatsixweeks.Howeverlongtheytaketopass,Iknowourreunionwillonlybesweeterforitsinterlude.
AsIsaidtoyouonthatnight—Ineednot,Iamsure,specifywhichImean—thereismuchwemustspeakofstill.SomuchthatIwonderwewastedsomuchtimeuponpleasantries,whentherearesuchvastquantitiesofeachofourlivesthatremainamysteryfortheother.
IdonotthinkImentioned,forexample,thatIamstillpainting.PerhapsyoudonotevenrememberthatIusedtodoso,butIhavereceivedacommissionwhileinBath—tobefulfilledanonymously,butaproperartist’scommission,nonetheless.Andwhileyoumaythinkitsadlyself-indulgent—asyouwellknow,Ilackforneitherincomenordiversion—evenifvanityweremyonlymotivation,Ishouldwishtoseeitthrough.Iwillseeitthrough.
Iawaityourreply—yourthoughts—withtrulyexcessiveeagerness,andremain
Yoursforever,
Eliza17
ElizaraisedthesubjectwithMelvilletheverynextday.HeandCarolinearrivedattheagreedhour—twoo’clockintheafternoon,today,forthebestlight—andwhiletheladieshadcloisteredthemselvesinthedrawingroom(“jetetrouvebelle”floatinginthroughtheopendoor)Melvillehadcasthimselfdownuponthesofa,asnormal.Thecanvasthatstoodupontheeaselwascoatedinamixofyellowochreandwhitelead,butotherwisemarkedonlybyacharcoaledoutlineofMelville’sform,andthefirstassaysofcoloruponhisfaceandtorso.Elizatwistedherhandsinherskirts.Ifhedidnotthinktheexhibitionagoodidea—ifhedidnotagree,ifhescoffedorthoughtherdeluded—thenElizawouldnotdoit.Shetookadeepbreath,satdownbesideMelvilleandopenedhermouth
“Somersetisgone,then,”Melvillesaid.
“Oh—yes,”Elizasaid.“IhavesomethingIshouldliketodiscuss…”
“Gallantofhimtoescortyouhomefromtheconcert,”Melvilleobserved.“Hereturnedlookingmightilypleasedwithhimself.”
“Didhe?”Elizasaid,asifshedidnotcare.
“Ithoughthemighthaveproposed,”Melvilleadmitted.
Elizainhaledsharply,chokingbackashrilldenialthatwouldgiveherawayimmediately.
“Youareoutrageous,”shemanagedcalmly.“Youmayseeforyourselfthatmyringfingerisbare.”
ShewaggledherhandathimandMelvilletookitinhisown,pretendingtoholdittothelight,examiningitthiswayandthatasifabetrothalringmightbehiddeninplainsight.
Elizastartedalittle,forthathadnotbeenherintention,andshewasnotwearinggloves—sheneverdid,whilepainting—andneitherwashe:itfeltshockinglyintimate.Hisskinwaswarmandsmooth,saveforthecallusesshefeltonhisfingers—fromholdingapen,orridingahorsewithoutgloves,shecouldonlyguess.
“Soitis,”Melvilleagreedatlast.“Anditisalltheprettierforit.”
Hetookamomentmoretoletgo,andElizawithdrewherhand,feelingalittlediscombobulated.
“Willyouwritetohimwhileheisaway?”Melvilleasked,stillinthatlight,conversationalway.
“Ifanoccasioncallsforit,Ishouldthinkso,”Elizasaidcarefully.“Lettersof…business.”
“Ithoughttheymightratherbelettersoflove.”
Elizainhaledsharplyandwilledherselfnottoblush.
“Youthoughtincorrectly,”shesaid.
“Ashame,”Melvillesaid.“Agoodloveletterisworthitsweightingold.”
AsElizacouldattest…Butnowwasnotthemomenttodwell.
“Ihearyoureceivepilesofthemfromreaders,”Elizasaid,tryingtosteertheconversationawayfromSomerset.“Isthattrue?”
“Notquitepiles—perhapsratherasmallheap,”Melvillesaid.“Haveyoueverwrittentome?”
“Ihavenot!”Elizasaidindignantly.
“Youcantellme,”hesaid.“Ishan’tmakefun.”
“Youabsolutelywould—andIhavenot!Iwouldnever.”
“Yourhorrorisunwarranted,”Melvilleprotested.“Someofthelettersarequiteaffecting:oneladycreatedsuchanevocativeideaofourlifetogether,thatIwasonthepointofagreeingtoituntilCaropointedoutthebillethadcomefromColdbathFieldsPrison.”
“Youarenotserious,”Elizaprotested.
“Iam!”hesaid,grinning.“TothisdayIfeelalittlewistfulaboutdearMary,forshemaywellhavebeenthegreatloveofmylife.ButwhenIwouldnotsendheralockofmyhair,shevowedtomurdermeandIdeducedthisindicatedtheendofouraffair.”
“Awisededuction,”Elizasaid,laughing.
“Whythankyou,”Melvillesaid.
Therewasadiscreetknockuponthedoor,andPerkinsenteredwithatray.
“Marvelous,”Melvillesaid.Elizatookamomenttoremarshalherthoughts.
“DidyouattendMr.Berwick’sexhibitionyesterday?”sheasked.
“Idid.Andtothinkyouwouldhavehadhimpaintmyportrait.Whatthatmanwouldhavedonetomylegs!”
“YoudonotyetknowwhatImaydotoyourlegs,”Elizasaid,bitingbackasmile.
“Iknowyouarethebetterartist,”Melvillesaid.
TherewasnotanounceofdoubtinhisvoiceandhearingitemboldenedEliza.
“ItmademewonderifImightsubmityourportraittotheexhibition,”shesaidinarush.“Onlyifyouapprove,ofcourse!”
Melvilletiltedhisheadconsideringly.
“Itmayinvitespectacle,”Elizacontinuedhurriedly,“thoughifIsubmitanonymously,thesecretshouldbekept.”
“Afamousnotion,”Melvillesaid.“IwonderIdidnotthinkofit.”
Heagreedwithsuchease—noquestionorhesitation—thatElizawasalmostunnerved.
“Itcouldbeafruitlessendeavor,”shesaid,feelingastrangeneedtoclarifymatters.“Selectionmaybemorerigorousthisyear.”
“WhichmightweedoutMr.Berwick,”Melvillesaid.“Butyouwillcertainlypassmuster.”
“Ifsuchafeatisevenpossibleinsoshortatime,”Elizasaidreflexively.
TheprocessforsubmissiontotheSummerExhibitionwasthesamein’19asithadbeeninEliza’sgrandfather’sday:non-membersoftheRoyalAcademycouldsubmittheirworktoacommitteeofacademycouncilmembers,inarigorousfive-dayselectionprocessinearlyApril.Elizawouldhavelessthanfourweekstocompleteataskthatmightordinarilytakefourmonths.
“Whyareyoutryingtoconvincemeoutofit?”Melvilleasked.“Ishouldthinkyouperfectlyabletomeetsuchchallenges.”
RarelyhadElizaencounteredsuchunassailablebeliefinherabilities.Margaret’ssupport,ofcourse,approachedtheevangelical—butitfeltprofoundlydifferentcomingfromMelville.MargarethadknownElizaherwholelife,afterall;itwaspositivelyherdutytosupportElizaandElizaher.ButMelvillehadnosuchmotiveandnordidheofferpraiseblindly,ashisfrequentcastigationofMr.Berwickproved.Hisbeliefexistedpurelybecauseheconsideredherdeservingofit…andElizafeltherselfunfurltowardthelightheoffered.
“Doyouwishtoenter?”Melvilleasked,withaquizzicalsmile.
“Yes,”Elizasaid,finallyallowingherselftofeeltherushofexcitementthathadbeenbuildingallmorning.“Ido.”
“Then…”Hespreadhisarmsinvitingly.“Wehaveworktodo,dowenot?”
Andthatveryday,withpalemorninglightstreamingthroughthewindow,afiredancinginthegrate,thesoundofMargaret’sbrightlaughterfilteringacrossthehallwayandapaintbrushinherhand,theybeganinearnest.
Elizahadalwayspaintedquickly—onehadto,whenonewasalwaysonthepointofinterruption—butinthecomingdaysshemovedwithaswiftpurpose,unhesitatingly,asifMelville’sconfidenceinherwascatching.ShepositionedMelvilleexactlyasshewantedhim—facingthewindowatanangle,forthebestlight,andbeganthenextlayerofthepainting,intentanddetermined.Shedeliberatedovertheexactshadesuponherpalette,returningtoMr.Fasana’sshoptoconsulthimuponnewmixes,electingtouseasmanywithlinseedoilbasesaspossible,forthequickestdryingtime.
Workingtoanewdeadline,MelvillehadtolendElizafarmoreofhistime,andhedidsowithoutcomplaint.Indeed,withinase’nnightofMelville’sagreeingtotheexhibition,itseemedthatsheandMargaretwererarelywithouttheMelvilles’company,sofrequentlydidtheyencounteroneanotherinMeyler’slibrary(LadyCarolineandMelvilleloudlydenigratingthepoetstheydidnotlikeupontheshelves),attendthesamemusicalperformances(MelvillewhisperingsuchawildlyinaccuratetranslationoftheoperathatElizahadtopressafistagainsthermouthtokeepfromlaughing)anddrivetogetherinLadyCaroline’sphaeton(forEliza’slessonscontinuedatpace).
Itwasenough,truly,tomakeElizafeelalittleguilty.
“Iamgratefulyouaresparingsomuchofyourtime,”ElizatoldMelvillethefollowingThursday,palettebalancedinonehand,brushintheother.Afterweeksofworkingwithoilnow,Eliza’spaintworkwasbecomingfreer—inthecursivesweepsofherloadedbrush,shecouldfeelherbody,herarm,hergripuponthebrushwerealllooser.“Idohopewearenottakingyouawayfromyourwritingdesk?”
“Fretnot,”Melvillesaid.“IalwayswriteintheearlyhoursandIamgrateful,indeed,thatyourdrivinglessonstakeCaroawaybeforebreakfast,foritleavesthehousesoblissfullyquiet.Longmayitcontinue,Isay.”
“Shemaywelllosepatiencewithmesoon,”Elizawarnedhim.
“Youarenotanonpareilyet?”
“Hardly,”Elizasaid.“IshouldnotthinkIcoulddriveasshedoes,ifIspentyearspracticing.Hasshealwaysbeensoabsolutelyfearless?”
“Caroline?”hesaid.“Abouthorses,yes,itishowwewereraised.Myparentswerealmostasmadforhorsesastheywereforeachother.”
Elizawasstartled,asalways,bythefrankandeasywayMelvillecouldspeakofsuchwarmsubjects.
“Theymarriedforlove,didn’tthey?”sheasked.Shewasfamiliarwiththestory,ofcourse,butElizaknewbetterthantotrustafourth-orfifth-handaccountofgossipfrombeforeshewasborn.
“Atfirstsight,ifmymotheristobebelieved,”Melvillesaid,hiseyesrestingwarmlyuponEliza’s.“MyfathervisitedHyderabadin’85.HewasalreadyacquaintedwiththeCompany’sResidentthereandbeingtherunawaylordgavehimglamourenoughtobeinvitedtocourt.Mothernevertoldusquitehowtheymet.Shewastheyoungestdaughterofthenawab—thegovernor—andoughtnevertohavecomenearhim,butIsuspectmygrandmotherhelpedarrangeit.”
“Andthentheymarried?”Elizaasked.Melvilleshookhishead.
“Notfortwomoreyears;herfatherhadtobeconvinced,andtheNizam—therulerofHyderabad—petitionedtoo,”Melvillesaid.“Andmeanwhile,theycourteddiscreetly.TheyconversedfirstinPersian,whichmyfatherknewalittle,beforehelearnedUrduandsheEnglish.”
“Itsoundsmostromantic,”Elizasaid.
“Itdidnotcomewithouttrials,”Melvillesaid.“Herfamilyobjecteduntilthelast,andwhenmygrandfatherdiedtheyhadtoremovetoEngland—toadisgracedfamilyname,anestateonthepointofruin,andanEnglandabsolutelyconsternatedtohaveitsfirstIndiancountess.Butwewerehappy,despiteitall.”
“Theywereaffectionateparents?”Elizaasked.
Melvillesmiled.
“Verymuchso.TheytoldCarolineandmealmosteverydayhowpreciouswewere—althoughitwasashockindeedtoarriveatEtontofinditanopinionnotuniversallyshared.”
“Theywereunkind?”Elizasaid.
Melvilleshrugged.
“Itisasyoumightexpect.Roughhousing,name-calling:the‘piebald’lordtheyusedtocallme,amongstotherhugelyderivativeepithets.”
Thelightnessinhisvoicewasforced.Elizamightnothavenoticedthechangeweeksago,butshecouldhearthedifferencenow.Sheliftedthebrushfromthecanvas,toregardhimwithherfull,carefulattention.
“Itwouldhavebeenworse,Iamtold,ifwehadremainedinIndia.TheBritishthereareincreasinglyhostiletowardpersonssuchasus.Iwouldhavebeendreadfullyoutoffashion.”
Melville’svoicewasbeginningtowearattheedgesandElizawasnotsurprisedwhenhechangedthesubjectsoonafter.
“Whatofyourparents?Aretheyhappy?”
“Theyarewellsuited,Ibelieve,”Elizasaid,consideringthematter.“Theyshareineachother’saimsandbeliefs,althoughIhaveneverconsideredeitherofthemparticularlyromantic.”
“Andareyou?Particularlyromantic?”
Itwasanotherterriblypersonalquestion,butgivenwhatMelvillehadjustshareditdidnotfeelsoverystrangetoanswer.
“Asagirl,verymuchso,”shesaid.“Iscarcewishedforanythingmorethantofall,trulyandgreatly,inlove,independentofduty,circumstance,familialinterest.”
“Therealitydidnotmeetyourexpectation?”
“Oh,itdid,ineveryconceivableway,”Elizasaid.“ItwasjustthatIdidnotmarryhim.”
ItwasthefirsttimeshehadspokenaboutherrelationshipwithSomerset,howeverindirectly,andasifafraidshemightclamupatanymoment,Melvilleaskedhisnextquestionveryquickly.
“Whatmadeyoudevelopsuchapartialityforhim?”
“Oh,”Elizasmiledeventothinkofit,“Icannotthinkwhen,exactlyitbegan—themomentwemet,Isuppose.Hecalledmebeautiful.”
“And?”
“And?Iassureyou,thiswasenoughtomakemenoticehim—whileyou,mylord,maybeusedtodrowninginflattery,formeitisanovelty.Andthen,onceIhadstartednoticing,Icouldnotstop.Healwayswassohonorable,sokind,soconsciousofhisresponsibilities.”
“ResponsibilityisnotawordIusuallyassociatewithlove,”Melvillenoted.
“Iamnotthewriter,”Elizasaid,self-conscious.“Idonotknowhowtosayitprettily.Wemerelyhadagreatdealofmutualadmirationandrespecta-andenjoymentofeachother’scompany…”
“Ishalldomybestwithit,”Melvillesaid,pattingdownhispockets.“Thedifficultyisgoingtobefindingarhymefor‘mutual.’Ahalfrhymewillhavetodo—contractual,perhaps?IwishIhadaquilltohand.”
ElizathrewasmallpieceofchalkathimandMelvilledodgeditwithalaugh.Itwasthesortofbehaviorthatwouldhavebeenunthinkable,notlongago,butonecouldnotspendasmuchtimetogether,asElizaandMelvillenowwere,withoutgrowingmorecomfortableineachother’spresence.AndinmomentssuchasthisElizafoundherselfoddlygladforthecircumstancesthathadrequiredadelaytoherandSomerset’sofficialengagement.Itwasnotjusttheactofworkingupontheportraitshewouldhavemissedouton—itwouldhavebeenthecompany,too.Asunlikelyasitmightoncehaveseemed,shewasbeginningtocountMelvilleasoneofherdearestfriends.
HarefieldHall
March9th’19
DearEliza,
Yourlettertookaveritableagetoarriveandthesightofyourhandwriting,whichhasnotchangedinthesetenyears,hadmebreathingeasierthanIhavethisweekpast.
Yourcommissionsoundsacharmingscheme.WhenIrememberthedarlinglittledrawingsyouusedtoshowme—andIdorememberthem—Icanwellbelievethatanotherhasbeensimilarlyenchanted.ShallIguessthepainting’ssubjectorisittobeasurprise?PerhapsaviewofCamdenPlace,ortheabbey?Ilookforwardtoseeingitregardless—butseeingyou,mostofall.
Icannotnowwritemore,forIambeingcalledaway—expectalongernotefrommeanon.
Yoursever,
Oliver18
Mid-Marchbroughtwithitafalsespring;abriefspellofsunshinethathadeveryonefooledforthefortnightitlasted,improvingtempersacrossthecityandturningtheattentionofmanytotheLondonSeason.ForwhilemostofBath’sresidentsremainedyear-round,manyofthewealthierinhabitants—suchasLadyHurleyandtheWinkworths—wouldberemovingtothemetropolisattheendofthemonth.AllseemedenergizedbytheapproachingSeason,butnonemoresothanLadyHurley,fornosoonerhadshespottedElizaandMargaretatthePumpRoom,thanshehadbustledover,dispensedentirelywithpleasantriesandinvitedthemtoaparty.
“BeforeIleaveforLondon,”sheexplained,withalltherapidityofanofficerdeliveringafieldreport,“Ihavesettledmyheartonhostingaroutnextweek,withalittledancing,tobidfarewelltoBath,andIabsolutelyinsistyouareinattendance.”
Elizahesitated.
“Donot,Ibegofyou,sayitwouldbeimproper!”LadyHurleysaid.“Why,LadySomerset,itmustbeelevenmonthssinceyourmourningbegan!Ifyouareseated,throughout,anddonotstaytoolate,Iamsureitcannotbethoughtintheleastremarkableforyoutoattendasmallpartyataprivateresidence.”
“Come,Eliza,surelyyouareallowedsomefun,now?”Margaretsaid.
Oh,dashit.Itwasnotsoveryimproper—shehadonlyamonthleftoffullmourning,afterall.ShewassurethatSomersetwouldrecommendsheenjoyherself.
“Weshouldbedelightedtoattend,”Elizasaid.“Ihaveafancyforaneweveningdress,anyhow,andthismakestheperfectexcuse.”
“IhavejustcomefromMadamePrevette,andshehasinsomeravishingnewblackgossamerthatwouldlookdivine,”LadyHurleysaid.“ThoughIdidnotenquirehowmuchofitremains.”
“Thenwemusthastentothemodistebeforetheotherwidowsmakearunonit,”Elizadeclared,smilingtoimagineaflockofblack-cladwomendashingdownMilsomStreet.
ButLadyHurleywastoobusycastingaboutfortheMelvillestopayheed.
“IfIcanbesureoftheirattendance,too,itislikelytobethemostmodisheventoftheyear,butIcannotfindhidenorhairofthem.Thoughperhaps”—shethrewaroguishlooktowardEliza—“itwouldbequickerforyoutoinviteMelville,mylady,forIamsureyouwillseehimbeforeI!”
“Idonotknowwhatyoumean,”Elizasaid.
LadyHurleycackled.“Oh,weallsawyou,whisperingtogetherattheconcertlastweek,”shesaid.“Andridingtogetheryesterdayafternoon!Verycozy.”
Shebustledaway,withoutwaitingforaresponse,butEliza’scheeksstillpinked.
Thedaybefore,whenElizahadbeensufferingfromafitofthesullens—fornomatterhowcarefullyshepainted,Melville’searswerestilllyingawkwardly—Melvillehadremovedthepaintbrushfromherhandandsuggestedaridewouldclearhermind.
“Now?”Elizahadsaiduncertainly.“Alone?”
“Iwouldpreferyourgroomattendus,”hehadsaid,makingforthedoorsothathemightchangeintoridingdress.“Isuspectotherwiseyoumightattemptaseduction.”
Andwhileitmightnotbealtogethersensibletojauntaboutthecountrysidewithanunmarriedgentlemanatsuchanunusualhour,evenwithhergroominattendance—inBath,onecommonlyrodebeforebreakfast—afteranhouronthehills,breathlessandlaughing,shehadnotcared.Now,however…
“Payhernomind,”MargaretadvisedEliza,butastheywalkedtoMilsomStreet,Elizacouldnothelpbutwonderifthegazesuponherhadincreasedinnumbersincelastweek—whethertheoglesweremorespeculative,whethershecouldhearhernamebeingwhisperedbythelittleflocksofladiesandgentlementhatpassedthem.
PerhapsitwouldbewisetokeepMelvilleatarm’slength,inpublic.ForwhileElizamightknowherselftobeasgoodasengagedtoanotherman,Bath’squidnuncsdidnotandtherewasnoneed,truly,forthemtospendanytimeinoneanother’scompanyoutsideofsittings.Wise—buttedious.Hangit,Elizadeclaredtoherself,astheypushedintoMadamePrevette’sshop.Elizawasnotabouttomakeherselfunhappyforthesakeofappeasingsomeimaginarygossipmongers.Letthemstare,iftheylike.
TheblackgossamerwaseverythingLadyHurleyhadsaiditwouldbe,andMadamePrevettepromisedtohaveanewcreationreadyforElizabythetimeoftherout.
“Youwillbewantingawholenewtoilette,soon,willyounot?”MadamePrevetteaskedEliza,asMargaretconsideredthemeritsofprimroseversuspomona-greensilk.“Foryourhalf-mourning?”
“Yes,IsupposeIwill,”Elizasaid,alittlesurprised.WitheverythingthathadoccurredwithSomerset,shehadalmostforgottenthattheendingofherfullmourningmeantmorethanbeingabletomarryhim.Itwouldmeanthere-entry,atlast,intotheworldofcolor:verysoon,shewouldbepermittedtolightenherdressesandgownstothegreysandlavendersofhalf-mourning.“Yesindeed,MadamePrevette,Iwillmostcertainlyneedtobuyeverythingnew.”
“PerhapsImayshowyousomeofmylatestplatesfromParis,”MadamePrevetteoffered,anddisappearedbrieflyintotheback.Whenshereturned,itwastofindElizarunningherhandenviouslyoverarollofbronze-greensatin,newlyarrived.Thecolorwassobeautiful.
“Perhapssomethinginthatcolor?Itwouldsuityouverywell,”MadamePrevettesuggested.
“Iwouldloveto…”Elizasaid.“Butevenhalf-mourningwouldnotallowsucharichhue.”
“Noteventosave,tolookforwardtothedayyoumightwearit?”MadamePrevettewasanastutesaleswoman,andElizawasimmediatelyintrigued.Theideaofthedressofherdreams,hanginginherwardrobelikeapromiseofbetterthingstocome…
“Perhapsoverasatinslip,”MadamePrevettewonderedaloud.“Andmatchingslipperstocompletetheensemble?”
Oh,whynot?
“Youhavemymeasurements?”Elizasaid.“AndIcancountuponyourdiscretion?”
“Itwillbeourlittlesecret,”shesaid.
ElizaandMargaretbadeherfarewellwithasmilebeforehurryinghometomeettheMelvilles.
“IsupposeIoughttohaveaskedifyouhadapreferenceonstyle,”ElizamusedtoMelvillelater,regardingthecanvascritically.Shehadn’tallowedhimtolookatthecanvasoutofananxiousnessthattodosowouldbetospoilitinsomeway—thoughshewaspleasedwithherprogress.Withoutsufficienttimetodrytheportraitbetweensittings,Elizawaspaintingallaprima—layingfreshpaintontowetcanvas—andafortnightin,thebulkoftheworkwasalreadybehindher.
“I’mnotsureIhaveone,”Melvillesaid.“AslongasitcombinesthegrandeurofThomasGainsboroughandtheplayfulinsoucianceofThomasRowlandson,Iwillbewellsatisfied.”
“Oh,youwantbothThomases,doyou?”Elizasaid,smiling.
“Ifyoucould.”
“I’mafraiditisnotatallwhatIhadinmind.”
“Noinsoucianceatall?”Melvillechecked.
“Notevenalittle,”shesaidgravely.
“Alas—thoughifyoucancapturemynewpantaloons,Ishallbesatisfied,”Melvillesaid.“Donot,Ibegyou,heedCaroline:theyaretheveryheightoffashion,youknow.”
Thepantaloonsinquestionwereabrightyellow—Carolinehaddubbedthem,momentsbefore,as“toonattybyhalf”—andappearedtohavebeenveritablymoldedtohisleginamannerthatElizamighthavethoughtbrave,hadMelville’slegsbeenanylessfine.
Sheshookherhead.
“Iamfixedonthepose,”shetoldhim.“Torsoandhead,only.”
“Isitacomplimenttomyfacethatitistheportrait’sfocus?”Melvillewondered.“Oraninsulttomybodytohaveitignored?”
“Neither,”shesaid,smiling.“Merelyareflectionuponmylackofstudy—myfull-bodyportraitsalwayshaveasomewhatdislocatedappearance.Totrulybeabletoconveytheproportionsofthehumanform,Iwouldneedtostudyit—fully,privately,astheydoattheRoyalAcademy.Butofcourse,thisiscertainlynotalessonallowedtowomen.”
Melvilleleanedbackinhisseat,surveyingherwithamischievouseye.
“Wasthisnotatutelagethelateearlcouldoffertoyou?”heasked.
Elizadidnotflushatthequestion,whichshesawasproofofherincreasingimmunityfromhisoutrageousness.
“Thelateearlwouldnothavebeenatallreceptivetosucharequest,”shesaid.“HadIeverdaredtomakeit.”
“Yourswasnota…passionatemarriage?”
Heraisedhiseyebrowsather,challenging—asiftocommunicatethatheknewfullwellthatthiswasanothershockinglyinappropriatelineofquestioning,andwaswaitingforhertoputastoptoit.But,thistime,Elizawouldnotgivehimthebenefitoffeelingsmug.
“Thelateearlsawtohishusbandlyobligationsinthesamemannerasallhisotherresponsibilities,”shesaidarchly.“Thatistosay:faithfully,dutifully…andwithagreatdealofbrevity.”
Melvillegaveashoutofsurprisedlaughter.Elizagrinned,giddyandirresponsible.
“Well,asyourcurrentsubject,”Melvillesaid,“ifamore—ah—naturalstyleofdeportmentwouldbebeneficialtoyoureducation…”
Heliftedhishandplayfullytohiscravat.
“Pleaseleaveyourclotheswheretheyare,”Elizasaidhastily,thoughshewasstillsmiling.“Perkinswillarrivewithrefreshmentssoon,andthesightwouldonlydisturbhim.”
“IwouldmerelyexplaintoPerkinsmyaltruisticmotivations,”Melvillesaidearnestly.“Ihavelongbeenasupporterofthearts—indeed,Ihaveofferedmyservicestoactresses,operasingers,dancers…”
Elizalaughedagain,loudanduncontrolled,andfromtheopendoorcamethesoundofMargaretcackling,too.TheFrenchlessonhadbeenlongabandoned—whenElizahadpoppedintothedrawingroomtolocatehermaulstickthatmorning,bothCaroline’sandMargaret’sfaceshadbeenworryinglyfullofsmirks.Elizadidnotquiteliketowonderwhattheyhadbeendiscussing,butnodoubtitwasthatparticularsortofserratedhumortheseladiesseemedtoenjoywithoneanother—sinceFebruaryitwasasiftheyhadbeensharpeningtheirwitsuponeachotherasknivesuponwhetstones.
“AreyoutoattendLadyHurley’srout?”Melvilleasked.“Iamgreatlylookingforwardtoit.Dinner,cards,alittledancing…”
“Ienvyyouthat,”Elizasaid.“Ihavenotbeenabletodanceinsuchalongtime.”
“Isthisyourchance?”Melvillesuggested.
Elizalaughed.
“Dance?Infullmourning?”shesaid.“Ishouldbechasedoutoftownwithpitchforks.”
“Whowouldleadthecharge?”Melvillewondered.“Mrs.Winkworth?”
“Almostcertainly,”Elizasaid.“Sheisalreadyregardingmydrivinglessonswithagreatdealofconsternation—andnodoubtsquirrellingletterstoLadySelwynaboutmybehavior.”
Thisprospectdidnotworryherasmuchasitmightoncehavedone.
“YoubelieveLadySelwyntohaverecruitedaspy?”Melvilleaskedquizzically.
“Iwouldbeverysurprisedifshehasnot,”Elizasaidwithasnort.“Shewillcertainlybeonthelookoutforanythingthatcould—”Shebrokeoff.Foramomentshehadforgottenthatthemoralityclausewasasecret.
“AnythingthatcouldkeepyouandSomersetatadistance?”Melvillesuggested.“Inoticedshedidnotregardyourreacquaintancewithpleasure—butifyourdrivinghasSomersetrunningforthehillsthenheisblanderthanevenIsuspected.”
“Heisnotbland!”Elizaprotested.ShehadnottoldSomerset,yet,aboutCaroline’slessons,notoutoffearofhisreaction,buttoensureherselfskilledenoughtoimpresshim.
“ThendoyouneedworryoverwhatMrs.Winkworthwrites?”
“Idonotworry,”Elizasaid,“butitismyfortunethatisLadySelwyn’sgreatestinterest.”
Melvilletiltedhisheadinquestion—andreally,whatharmwasthereinsharingonemoresecretwithMelville,now?
“MylandswereoriginallyintendedfortheSelwyns’secondson,”Elizaexplained.“Myhusbandbequeathedthemtome,instead,butifIcauseanydishonortothefamilyname,theyrevertbacktoSomerset.”
Melvillewentverystill.
“Amoralityclause,”hesaidslowly.
“ItwastheonlysilverliningfortheSelwyns,”Elizasaid,workinganothertinyfleckofcolorontoportrait-Melville’scuffs.“Ifthelandsrevert,IimaginetheywouldwindtheirwaybacktoTarquineventually.”
“Thatis…diabolical.”
Eliza’slipsquirkedatthehorrorinMelville’svoice.
“Youhavemetthem,”shesaid.“Doyounotthinkitwithincharacter?”
“Ithoughtthemsnide,”Melvillesaid.“Andself-serving—butnotsomalignant.”
Heranahanddistractedlythroughhishair,morestrickenonEliza’sbehalfthanshehadexpected.
“Howcouldtheydosuchathing?”
“Oh,Iamlongaccustomedtotheidea,”Elizaassuredhim.Shehadnotmeanttoupsethim.“Ithasnotcausedmeanissueyet.”
“Yet,”Melvillesaid.“Youareworrieditstillmight?”
“Iusedtobe,”Elizaadmitted.“Butnotsince—”
Shebrokeoff,bitingherlip.
“Since?”
Elizahesitated.Shedidnotliketolie,outright,toonesheconsideredafriend—buttheideaofinformingMelvilleofsuchathingfilledherwithdisquietratherthangladness.
“Since?”Melvillepressedagain,moreseriouslynow.
Therewasnohelpingit.
“SinceSomersetandIare…tobemarried,”shesaid.
Theclockstruckthehour,anditwasnotuntilthelastknellhadsoundedthatMelvillespoke.
“Isee,”hesaid.“Yes—Isee.”
Hisfaceandvoice,soblankandrigid,wereatcuriousvariancewithhishands,whichappearedalittleunsteady.Melvillepressedthemintothearmsofhischair,asiftoceasetheirminuteshaking.
“Ofcourse—Ihadsuspected,asyouknow.”
Eliza’sstomachtwisted.
“Melville…”shesaid,uneasybutuncertainwhy.
“Iwishyouveryhappy,”Melvillesaid.Hisvoicestillsoundedoff.
“Thankyou,”shesaid.Whydidthisfeelsodreadfullyuncomfortable?
“Right-o,”Melvillesaid,withinsincerecheer,standingabruptlyandadjustinghiscravat.“I’mafraidIhavebusinesstoattendto—letterstowrite,poetrytocompose,etcetera,etcetera.”Hestrodetowardthedoor.
“Melville!”Elizasaid,clutchingherpalettewithtighthands.Shedidnotwanthimtoleave—notinsuchaway…
“Melville?”
Buthewasalreadygone.19
Melvillemissedalloftheirscheduledsittingsthenextweek.Hesentoverapologies,citinghiswork,buttheexcusefeltweak,andElizaworriedoverthetruereasoningasadogoverabone.Theportraitwouldnotsuffer—thatwasnottheissue.Bynow,ElizahadspentsomuchtimestaringatMelvillethatshemightwellknowhispersonbetterthansheknewherown.Sheknewtheexactshapeofhisdeepbrowneyes,knewthecurveofeachofhisknuckles,thesoundofhislaugh…Evenifshehadn’tmadesuchafullstudy,bythispointintheproceedings,whenshewasmerelyfussingwiththedetail,otherartistswouldhavedispensedwiththeneedforasubjectaltogether.
Butthoughshemightnotneedhispresence,shefeltthelackkeenly.Theparlorfeltbigger,colder,lessinterestingwithoutMelville.Onedidnotlaughonone’sown,andElizacouldnotevenbeentertainedbyMargaret,forherappointmentswithCarolinecontinueduninterruptedandeverymomentthatElizaheardtheirbrightvoicestravelupthecorridorwasonewhensheregrettedhermishandlingofherlastconversationwithMelville.ShecouldnotknowquitewhathadupsetMelville,whetherithadbeenthelie,whenshehadfirstdeniedherengagementor…somethingelse.TheirintimacywithoneanotherhadtakenonnewheightssinceSomersethadleftandEliza,feelingsomuchtheeasierinhispresence,hadstoppedcheckinghim.Orherself.Andshesupposedthat,undersuchcircumstances,towarnagentlemanthathiscustomaryflirtwasengagedwasonlypolite,wasitnot?
Whateverthereason,overthenextweek,thoughElizalookedforhisdarkcurlsinthePumpRoom,triedtospothisyellowpantaloonsuponMilsomStreet,prickedherearsforhisvoiceinMeyler’slibrary,Melvillewasnowheretobeseen.AndwithnoSomersetandnoMelville,Bathfeltexceedinglyquiet.AndatleastwithSomersetshehadthecomfortofhisweeklyletterstoassuageanymissingofhim.Notthatthetwooughtbecompared,ofcourse,giventhatonewasalmostherfiancéandtheother…wasnot.
BythedayofLadyHurley’srout,Elizawassufferingfromaseverecaseofthebluedevils—evenassheregardedthesightofthefinishedportraitstandingbeforeher.Well,almostfinished.Forwhileshecouldthinkofnothingfurthertodotoit,nowthatshehadfussedoverthewaistcoatbuttonsuntiltheywerejustright,scrapingawaythepaintandreapplyingitfourorfivetimesatleast,Elizacouldnotshakethefeelingthatsomethingwasnotquiterightwithit.Ifonlysheknewwhat.
“Weoughtreadyourselves,”Margaretsaid,knockingherknucklesontheopendoorwaytoattractherattention.“LadyHurleywillbemostdispleasedifwearelate.”
ElizatookonelastlookattheportraitversionofMelville.I’llmakeitright,shetoldtheportraitinhermind.
UponarrivingatLauraPlace,itbecameimmediatelyclearthatEliza’sideaofanintimategatheringandLadyHurley’swerequitedifferent.Thereweretwentypersonsgatheredforthedinnerpartyalone,withmoretocomeforthedancing.AndalthoughLadyHurley’sgrandtownhousewasverylarge—thediningtablealonewasexpansiveenoughtoseattwentyanditwastheonlyhouseinthewholeofBathwithaterraceleadingofftheground-floordrawingroom—Elizacouldnotquiteunderstand,asshejoinedthelineofpersonsgreetingtheirhostessattheentrance,howtheywereallgoingtofit.
“Averitablesqueeze,”Carolinenoted,enteringjustbehindthem.Inanexquisitegownoflilacsilkandgauze,itwouldbedifficultforaladytoappearanymoreelegantthanCarolineMelvilledidthatnight.
“Youlookveryfine!”CarolinesaidtoElizaandMargaret.
“Thankyou,”Elizareplied.Shewasverypleasedwiththeeffectofherdressthatnight:blackgossamernetoverawhitesatinslip,theshortFrenchsleevesedgedwitharichVandykelace,andinsteadofthejetjewelryshehadbeenconfinedtothepastyear,diamondearringsandatriplenecklaceofpearlslayaboutherneck.“Idonotlooklikeamagpie?”
ButCarolinedidnotanswer,asshewastoobusytakinginMargaret’sgownofpomona-greencrêpe.Elizacouldnotblameher,however,foritwasMargaret’smoststrikingtoilettetodate,andElizacouldonlybepleasedthatCarolineseemedtothinksotoo,hereyeslingeringavariciouslyuponMargaret’ssatinbodice,sobeautifullyornamentedwithwhitebeadsanddropsàlamilitaire
“Youlookveryfine,”CarolinerepeatedtoMargaret,moreseriouslythanshehaduponthefirstinstance.
“Asdoyou,”Margaretsaid,cheeksalittlepink,whileElizatriedsubtlytopeekoverCaroline’sshouldertowhereMelvillewashandinghiscloaktoafootman.
“Oh,don’tyoualllookwell!”LadyHurleysaid,asthepersonsinfrontofthemdisappearedintotheroom.Shewaswearingadiaphanousyellowgownthatmadeherappearasavoluptuoussunflower.“Dinnerwillbeservedpresently:myFran?oishasoutdonehimselftonight.Therearejellies,fonduesandblancmangesenoughtofeedthefivethousand!”
“Howwonderful,”Melvillesaidasheappeared,notsoundingatallenthused.ThoughheandMr.Fletcherwerebothdressedelegantly—Melvilleinacoatofbluesuperfine,andawaistcoatofnavyvelvetsubtlyadornedwithsilverembroidery—theyappeareddistinctlycareworn.Elizatried,unsuccessfully,tocatchhiseye.
“Ignorehim,”Carolinesaid.“HeandMr.Fletcherdinedtogetherlastnightandweredrunkaswheelbarrows.Heismoremoanthanman.”
“Splendid,but,”Mr.Fletchersaid,pressingaweakhandtohischest,“notatallthething.”
“Youhaveit,sir,”Melvilleagreed,rubbinghisbrow.“Ithinkwearetobecommendedforattendingthiseveningatall.”
Asthehighest-rankingladyandgentlemaninattendance,ElizaandMelvillewerepairedtogethertowalktodinner.Forthefirsttimeinrecentmemory,Elizawasnotsurewhattosaytohim—andforthefirsttimeinmemory,Melvilledidnotseeminclinedtospeakfirst.
“Haveyoubeenkeepingwell?”sheasked.
“Ihave,”Melvillesaid.
“YouenjoyedyoureveningwithMr.Fletcher?”
“Assuredly.”
“Medeaisprogressingwell?”
“Yes.”
Shehadneverknownhimtotalksolittle.PerhapsthisishowMelvillehadfelt,tryingtomakeconversationwithherattheirfirstsittings.Shewishedshecouldwindbackthepastweekandscrapeoffalayerasonecouldwithapaintingandresumetheeasyacquaintancetheyhadusedtoenjoy.Assoonasthefirstcoursewasservedout,MelvilleturnedveryproperlytospeaktoLadyHurley,seatedonhisright,whileElizahadtomakeconversationwitharecalcitrantAdmiralWinkworth.TheloudsoundsofMelvilleandLadyHurley’senjoymentinherear,astheybeganarallyingdiscussionoftheirfavoritepoets,didnothingtoimprovehermood.UnderLadyHurley’sinfluence,Melville’seffervescenceseemedtohavereturned;Elizatriednottofeeltoobitter,sippinginsteadatthedeliciouschampagneinfrontofher.
Bythetimethesecondcoursewasbeingplaced—theSoupàlaReineandChickenàlaTarragonreplacedbydishesofbakedcarp,oystersinbatter,ablanquetteoffowlandaraisedpie,reinforcedbyabountifularrayofvegetabledishes—andMelvilleturnedreluctantlytospeaktoher,Elizawasfeelingdistinctlylightheaded.
“HaveyoureadDante’sDivineComedy?”heasked.
Itseemedveryimportant,allofasudden,thatMelvillethinkElizaquiteasliteraryasLadyHurley.
“Yes,”Elizaliedrecklessly.Margarethadreadit,whichcametothesamething.
“Andwhatdidyouthink?”
Theunfortunatetruthwas,ofcourse,thatElizaknewnothingofthevolumesaveforitstitleandthefactthatMargaretthoughtitveryclever.
“Ithoughtitwasveryclever,”shesaid.
“Butthelatesttranslation…Imyselffounditalittleconfusing,no?”Melvilleasked.Elizahopedthequestionwasrhetorical,butbythelengthypause—andthewayhewasregardingherpatiently—thiswasnotthecase.
“Iwonderif—ifthepointwastobeconfused,”sheprofferedsagely.
Melvillelookedather.
“Youhavenotreadit,”heguessed.
“Ihavenotreadit,”sheagreed.
Asifdespitehimself,Melvillelaughed.
“Whylie?”
“SothatyoumightthinkIwasveryclever,”Elizaadmitted,takinganotherdraughtofchampagne.
“Ialreadythoughtthat,”Melvillesaid.“NowIjustthinkyoualiar,too.”
ElizalookedatMelvillesharply.Washe…?Wasthatareferenceto…?
“Ididnotlie,”shesaid,quieteninghervoicetoamurmur,hopingthiswashermomenttocleartheair.
“Youomitted,”Melvillesaid,catchingonatonce.
“Outofnecessity,”shewhispered.“Andonlyalittle:wecannotbeformallyaffianceduntilApril.Untilthen,weareonly…engagedtobeengaged.”
“Oh,”Melvillesaid.
Apause.
“Howwhimsicallyindeterminate.”
Hesoundedsomuchhisnormalselfforamoment,thatElizafoundherselfleaningeagerlytowardhim.
“Iamsorryforthedeception,nonetheless,”shegabbledinawhisper.“IshouldnototherwisehaveconcealedittooneIconsider—oneIconsideratruefriend.”
Melvilletookathoughtfulsipofhisglass.
“AndIdoread,”sheaddeddefensively—foronceagain,thisseemedimportanttoestablish.
Melvilledidnotsmile,buthiseyesbegantocrinkleinamusement.
“Ihavenotaccusedyou,”Melvillesaid.
“Iknowyouareawfullybookish,”sheretorted,sorelievedatthetacitacceptance—forthatiswhatitwas,surely?—thatshefeltalmostbreathless.
“Awfully,”Melvilleagreed.Hepaused,thenadded,inmoreofhisusualmanner:“IcouldhardlywriteasIdo,wereInot.”
“Theclassics,”Elizasaid,asknowinglyasshecould.“Youenjoyreadingsuchbooks?Homerand…theotherone.”
“Theotheronemostofall,”Melvillesaid,smiling.“Thescholarlypopulacewouldhavethemseemdaunting,buttheyarejuststories—magnificentandsprawling,butstories,nonetheless.”
“BeforeIreadyourPersephone,Ididnotunderstandthemintheleast,”Elizaadmitted.“MyhusbandbademereadmoreclassicstoimprovemymindbutIcouldnotholdmyattention.”
Shehadthoughtherselftoostupidtounderstandalltheunknownwords,placesandnames—butMelville’spoetryhadawayofre-spinningthetales,elaboratingupontheromance,hintingatthesalaciousthat…Well,onedidn’tpausetoworryifonewasintellectualenough,inthehurrytogorgeoneselfuponit
“Thereismorekissinginmyversions,Iwillallow,”Melvillesaideasily.
“Itismorethanthat,”Elizachidedhim.“Itisaskill,toinvitepeopleinasyoudo.”
Melvilleblinked,fiddlingwiththestemofhisglassasifunsureofhowtorespond—asif,despiteallthepraisehelavishedonher,hewasnotexpectantofreceivinganyinreturn.
“Iamglad,”hesaidslowly,lookingsearchinglyather.“Iwasaboy,whenIfirstreadthem—aswoteventhen,”hesaid,asifconfessingsomething.“AndIfancyevennowIcouldreturntothetextsathousandtimesoverandstillfindsomethingnewtoinspireme.”
“Andisthatwhatyoumeantodo?”Elizasaid.“Writeathousandofsuchpoems?”
“I…OnedayI…”
Melville’seyesglancedwarilyaroundthetable—thefirstinstanceElizahadseenhimconcernedforeavesdroppers.
“Itwasmyintention,”Melvillesaid,quietly.“OnceIhadsufficientpopularity,towritepoetryinspiredbyclassicsofadifferentkind.”
Elizatiltedherheadinquestion.
“Mymotherwasagreatlinguist,”Melvillesaid,speakingfasternow.“Urdu,Persian,Sanskrit…Shewaseducatedinthemall,andshewouldreadtous,eachnight,frommanuscriptsshehadbroughtwithherfromIndia.TheShahnameh,theMahabharata…thesearesomeofthelongestepicsevertobewritten,asfascinatingastheAeneidandtheirwarriorsasgreatasAchillesorAjax.”
Eliza’seyesflickeredoverMelville’sface,waitingforhimtocontinue.Outofalltheconversationstheyhadshared,alltheconfidencesexchanged,shehadthesensethatthiswasthemostintimateofallofthem—here,atadinnerparty,withtheincongruousswellofconversationallaroundthem—andElizawouldnothaveinterruptedhimfortheworld.
“Therearethousandsofstorieswithinthem,”hetoldher,hushedandreverent.“IfIcouldjust…”
Melville’seyes,brightandanimated,dimmedsuddenly.
“Findapublisherwilling,”hefinishedaroundasigh.
HisfingersclenchedaroundhisglassandElizafoughttheurgetobrushhishandwithhers.
“Youwill,”Elizasaid.“Iamsureyouwill.”
Ifanyonecould,itwashe.
“Perhapsoneday.”
Theypausedasthetablewasreplenishedoncemore,thistimewithfruits,creamsandjelliesofallsizes,shapesandcolors.Eliza,impatienttoresumetheirconversation,acceptedaselectionatrandomandsheleanedbacktowardMelvilleassoonasshecould.Itwouldbeproper,ofcourse,tohaveinsteadturnedbacktoAdmiralWinkworth:correctdinnertablebehavior,asElizahadbeentaughtsincechildhood,wastoalternateconversationalpartnerswitheachcourse,butnothingcouldhaveenticedhertodosotonight.
“Youspeaksomanylanguages,”shesaid,marvelingathowitwouldbetopossesssuchaccomplishments—heradequatetalentatembroideryseemedveryfeebleincomparison.
“Notallofthemwell,”Melvillesaidwryly.“Whenourparents…Well,therewerefeweropportunitiestokeepupwiththem.”
Elizawishedthattheywerehavingthisconversationintheprivacyofherparlor,soshemighthavecapturedthesoftmelancholyofMelville’sexpressioninthatmoment.
“ThankgoodnessforCaroline,”Melvillesaidreflectively.“OrelseIwouldhavefeltmostalone.”
Eliza’sheartclenched.ShewassousedtothinkingtheMelvilles’singularitysomehowprestigious—shehadneverstoppedtoconsideritmightalsobelonely.
“Youdonothaveasister,”Melvillesaid,acceptingafootman’srefillofhisglasswithamurmurofthanks.
“IhaveMargaret,”Elizasaid.“Butnosisterbyblood.Iusedtowonderifitmighthavemademymother…easieruponme,werethereanothertosharetheattention.”
“Shewasfirm?”
Instinctively,Elizagavealittlegrimace.Melvillelaughed.
“Iamsorry,”Elizasaid,strangelyapologetictohavebrokenthemoodinsuchaway.“Sheisveryfirm—heropinionssostrong,soloud,thatitmakesmineshrink,justtobearoundthem.”
ThoughElizahadnotspokenuntruthfully,shestillfoundherselfabruptlyguilt-strickentohearherselfspeaksuchwordstooneoutsideherfamily.
“Ihavemadehersoundallbad,”shesaidrepentantly.“Sheisnot.Therewereoccasionsthatheralwaysknowingbest,hertakingcharge,gavemesomuchcomfort.”
Melvillewaited,afaintquestioninhiseyesthathedidnotvoice.ElizalookedagaintoAdmiralWinkworth—suckingbusilyuponhischickenbones—andthentothepersonsopposite—LadyCaroline,whoshewouldnotmindhearinganyway,andMr.Berwick,staringdreamilyintospace.
“Intheearlydaysofmymarriage,”Elizasaidslowly.“WhenI…Whentherewasnochild…”
Wheneachmonthhadbroughtthesamegut-wrenchingdisappointment,andeachmonthherhusbandhadgrowncolderandmoredistant,evermorecritical…
“Ididnotknowwhattodo,”Elizasaid.“And…shehelpedme.”
Withouthavingtobeasked—forElizawouldnotknowhowtoask,howtoframesuchanawfulfear—Mrs.Balfourhadbegundirectingher,inthesameno-nonsensewayshehadoncedressedEliza’shair.Hertwice-weeklylettersbecamealifeline,eachoneofferinganewpanaceaElizamighttry,divinedfromunknownsources—adoctororherbologistorbotanist,ithadnotmattered—andElizawouldfindherselfpickingstrawberriesatmidnightunderawaningmoonorsomesuchremedy.
“Shegavemesomethingtodo,whenImightotherwisehave…lostmyself,”Elizawhispered.LostherselfwanderingHarefield’semptyhalls,ruminatinguponherowninadequacy,speculatingonwhatherfamilyandtheearl’smightbesayingabouther,behindherback.ButeventhenMrs.Balfourhadprotectedher.WheneachChristmaspassedwithstillnochildtobeseen,Mrs.BalfourhadcountenancednodiscussionofEliza’sfailurefromthefamily—themerestmentionwouldbringonMrs.Balfour’sgimleteyewithtrulyalarmingrapidity.WhenElizahadbeenmorealonethanshehadeverknownherselfbefore,ithadbeenhermotherwhohadheldhertoearth,moreeventhanMargaret.
Elizaclearedherthroat,blinkingrapidly.Melvillewaswatchinghercalmly,notatallalarmed,assomegentlemenwere,inthefaceoffemininemisery,butaccepting,regardingheropenly.Hehadaway,onoccasion,ofconsideringyouwithhiswholebeing,allthemovementandthechatterandhumorpausingentirely,tofocustheentiretyofthatbrightminddirectlyuponyou.Itfelt—nowasithadthefirsttime—ratherasifonehadsteppedintowarmsunlight.
“Ihavenevertoldanyonethatbefore,”shesaid.“Noteven…”
ShedidnotfinishthesentenceandMelvillewastactfulenoughnottoask.
“IamsorrythatIhavemissedoursittingsthisweek,”hesaidinstead.
“Thatisallright,”Elizasaid.“Theportraitisalmostfinished,anyhow.”
Melville’seyeslitupwithcuriosity.
“CanIseeit?”
“Soon,”Elizapromised.
AtinkleofaglassbeingtappedwithaspoonhadthemturningtowardLadyHurley,whohadstoodfromthetabletoannouncethedancingwouldbeginmomentarily.Theyoungergentlemenandladiesbegantochatterexcitedlyastheystoodfromthetable,tomoveintothedrawingroomwithLadyHurleypairingpartners.Bynow,Elizawassocomfortablyfullthatshewasalmostgladtonotbejoiningthedancing.Almost.
“ItappearsIamneeded,”Melvilleobserved,asLadyHurleybeckonedtohimimperiously.“Ifyouwillexcuseme…?”
Therewasamoment—abrief,wildmoment—whereElizawasabouttodemandhestay,thatheignoretherequirementsofcivilityandstaybyhersideforalittlelonger.Butshemasteredherselfbeforethehastywordscouldtripoffhertongue.ThereweremoreladiesthangentlemenandMelvillewouldbeindemandallevening.Itwouldbeselfishtomakesucharequest—tempting,butselfish.
“Ofcourse,”shesaid,andMelvilleflockedobedientlytoLadyHurley’ssidetobepartneredwithMissGould.WhereasEliza…Elizasankintoacushionedsetteewithadejectedsigh,whilethestringquartetinthecorneroftheroomstruckupalivelyjig.WatchingasMelvilleandMissGouldbowedtooneanother,Elizadidnotthinkshehadeverfelttheconstraintsofherwidowhoodmorekeenlythanthismoment.20
Italmostmakesonejealousforone’sownyouth,doesitnot?”Mrs.Winkworthsaid,comingtositdownbesideEliza.
Elizamanagedtocatchtheindignantandinstinctivesquawkbeforeitlefthermouth,insteadlettingoutavaguemurmur.Inthelastfewweeks,shehadmanagedtoavoidMrs.Winkworth’scompanytosomesuccessandshehadalmostforgottenthelady’sdeftwayofdeliveringsuchstings.
“Iusedtothinkthewaltzasadromp,”Mrs.Winkworthsaid,hereyestrackingthefigureofherdaughteramongstthetwirlingfigures.MissWinkworthperformedthestepsgracefully,andElizathoughtsheseemedtostandtallerwithhermotheratasafedistance.“ButifitisdancedatAlmack’sthenIshouldthinkitimportantWinniegetsherpracticein!”
Elizamadeanothervaguemurmuringsound.ThelikelihoodofMrs.WinkworthbeingsentvoucherstoAlmack’swas,shefelt,ratherlow.Theymighthailfromarespectablelineage—Mrs.Winkworth,asshewassofondofremindingthem,wasthegranddaughterofabaroness—butonlytheveryselectwereinvitedtoenterthehallowedhallsofAlmack’sAssemblyRooms.
“LadySomerset,”Mrs.Winkworthsaid,hervoicesuddenlysteely,“ImustindeedthankyouforthekindnessyouhaveshownmydearWinnie.Shequitethinksofyouasanhonoraryaunt,youknow.”
IfdearWinnieactuallythoughtsuchathing,whentherewerefewerthantenyearsbetweentheirages,Elizawouldconsiderherthemostegregiousshrewofheracquaintance—butassheknewitwasunlikely,shereservedsuchdislikeforthetrueauthoroftheremark.
“Anditisonlybecauseoftheaffectionyouhaveshownher,thatIshouldfeelcomfortabletomakearequestofyouthatIamafraidyoumightotherwisethinkasadencroachment!”Mrs.Winkworthwentondoggedly.
ThiscouldgoonforhoursifElizaletit.
“WhatisitthatIcandoforyou,Mrs.Winkworth?”Elizaasked.
“IamsureIdonotneedtoexplaintoyou,LadySomerset,theimportanceofagirl’sfirstSeason,”Mrs.Winkworthsaid.“ImeantodoeverythingIcantoensurethatmydaughtermakesassuccessfuladebutaspossible,butouracquaintanceinLondonisnotaslargeasIwouldlikeit.Ifyouwouldbeaskindastooffermeafewlettersofintroduction…”
Elizaraisedhereyebrows.Mrs.Winkworth’sinstinctswerecorrect:Elizadidthinkhersadlyencroaching.Ifonewastravelingtoatownorcitywhereonewasunknown,onemightindeedaskafriendtogiveonealetterofintroductiontoafewpersonsoftheiracquaintanceinthelocality,therebyvouchingforthegoodcharacterofthetraveler,andsmoothingtheirwayforadmittanceintothetown’ssocialcircle.Buttomakesuchademandoutright,toapersononedidnottruthfullyknowverywell…ElizawouldbewithinherrightstogiveMrs.Winkworthaset-down.Shelookedtothedancefloor,andtoMissWinkworth,sotimidandinnocent.Asobjectionableasshefoundhermother,shecouldnotdenyshewantedallthebestforher.
“Ishallhaveathink,”Elizabegan,alreadytryingtoconsiderwhoshemightoffer.Ithadbeenawhilesinceshehadbeenoutinsociety,butshethoughttheAshbysmightverywellhaveadaughtercomingoutthisyear,andtheLedgertonshadseveralsonsofmarriageableage,allsaidtobesweetandfriendlyboys.
“YouarerelatedtotheAshfords,areyounot?”Mrs.Winkworthinterrupted.
Oh.Mrs.Winkworthwasaimingveryhighindeed,then.
“Verydistantly,throughtwomarriages,”Elizasaid.“ButMrs.Winkworth,Idonotthink…Familieswithtitlestendtomarrywithintheirownset.”
Itwasastactfullyasshecouldthinktophraseit,butMrs.Winkworthstillflushed.
“Itisnotalwaysthecase,”sheinsisted.“Why,thinkofLadyRadcliffe!”
“Thereareexceptions,certainly,”Elizaadmitted.“But—”
“AndWinniewillhaveahandsomedowry,”Mrs.Winkworthsaid.“Idonotliketoboastofit—Iamnotsovulgar—butmyhusbandmadeanamplesuminCalcuttaandWinniewillhaveitall.”
Elizadidnotknowquitewhattosay.
“YouarerelatedtotheArdens,aswell?”Mrs.Winkworthhadabandonedallpretenseatsubtletynow.
“Mylatehusband’scousins,”Elizasaidslowly.“ButyoucannotbethinkingofLordArden,forMissWinkworth?”
Ardenhadtobealmostthirtyyearsthegirl’ssenior,andwhilehewaswellknowntohaveatasteforyoungladiesintheirfirstbloom,Mrs.Winkworthwouldsurelynotbewillingtosacrificeherdaughtertosuchagentleman?ButMrs.Winkworth’seyeswerehungry.
“IfyourladyshipcouldofferaletterofintroductiontotheArdens,”Mrs.Winkworthsaid.“Ishouldbemostglad…”
Elizastared.Sheknewbetterthananyonethemachinationsofthemarriagemart,butforMrs.Winkworth’scalculationstobesoblatant,soopenlygrasping!Perhapsitwastherichsuppershehadjustingested,butElizafeltnauseous.SheturnedtogazebacktowardMissWinkworth,whowasnowlaughingasshespuninacirclewithMr.Berwick.Heryouthfulcheerwouldnothavebeenoutofplaceintheschoolroom.
“Mrs.Winkworth…”Elizasaid,knowingshewouldnothavedrunkquitesomuchchampagnehadsheknownshewastoenterintoquitesuchadelicatesubject,butunabletoholdhertongueamomentlonger.“Iunderstandthedesiretoseeyourdaughtermarrywell,verymuchso,butifyouwillnotallowMissWinkworththedignityofherownchoice,IimploreyoutothinkofagentlemanbettersuitedtoherthanArden.”
Mrs.Winkworth’sface,asElizaspoke,grewpinkerandpinkerwithindignation.
“LadySomerset!”shegasped.“Ionlyhavemydaughter’sbestinterestsatheart—thatyoushouldthinktoimplyotherwise…”
“Iamnottryingtooffend,”Elizasaidhastily.“Justtospeaktruthfully,asonewhoknowswhatitistobesobartered…”
“Bartered?”Mrs.Winkworthrepeated.“Bartered?”
Perhaps“bartered”hadbeenapoorchoiceofword.
“AllImeantosayis,”Elizasaid,“surelyMissWinkworth’shappinessisworthmorethanatitle?”
Mrs.Winkworthdraggedinadeepbreaththroughhernostrils.
“LadySomerset,”shesaidwithadecidedsharpness,“Ihadhoped,incomingtoyouwithsucharequest,tobetreatedwithdiscretionandunderstanding.MuchlikethatwithwhichIhavebeentreatingyouthesepastweeks.”
“Idonotunderstandyourmeaning…”Elizasaidslowly.
“Iamawarethatyourwealthcamewithcertainrequirements,mylady,”Mrs.Winkworthsaid,vindictivetriumphnowinhereyes.“Requirementsthatshouldnot,Ibelieve,lookkindlyuponMelvillehauntingCamdenPlacewithyoustillinyourblacks—andyetIhavegivenyouthebenefitofthedoubtthusfar.”
Eliza’sheartquickened.
“LadySelwynhaslooserlipsthanIhadthought,”shesaid,withmorecalmthanshewouldhavebelievedherselfcapable.“Doyoumeantothreatenme,Mrs.Winkworth?”
Mrs.Winkworth’scheekswereruddy,butshesurveyedherwithagimleteye.
“Willyouoffertheletterofintroduction,mylady?”shesaidmeaningfully.
ItmighthaveworkedonEliza,nottoolongago.Itwouldnotnow.
“TotheArdens,Iwillnot,”Elizasaid,gently.Shestood.“EnjoyyourtimeinLondon,madam.Iwishyoutheverybest.”
ShewishedshecouldhavedonemoreforMissWinkworth.Butatleastshehadtried.
Elizawalkedaroundtheedgesoftheroom—speakingidlytoMr.Berwickforamoment,whoshenoticedwaswearingawaistcoatstrikinglysimilartoMelville’s—beforeheadingtowardthegrandFrenchwindowsthatledontotheterrace.Theyhadbeenopenedtoallowabreezetowaftintotheroom,fordespitethecoolnessofthespringevening,withsuchvigorousdancingtheroomhadbecomehotandclose.
AsElizadrewnear,shecameacrosstheMelvillestuckedintothewindowembrasure,inthemidstofaratherheateddiscussion.
“Isimplydonotunderstandwhatcanhavesosuddenlychanged,”Carolinewashissingtoherbrother.“Allthistalkofprudence,andeconomy,again—youchangeyourmindfasterthanawhirligig.”
Elizacheckedherself,notwantingtoeavesdrop,andwonderedbrieflyifsheoughttowalkintheoppositedirectionuntilCarolinestormedpastElizainthedirectionofthecardroom.
ElizaapproachedMelvilleslowly.Helookedup,facedrawn,andElizawasovercomewithanurgetoputasmilebackonhisface.
“HaveyouspokenwithMr.Berwick,thisevening?”sheasked,aslightlyasifshehadnotoverheardamomentoftheirconversation.
“Ihavenot,”Melvilletookasipfromhisglasswithhandsthatwerealittleunsteady.
“Iadmirehiswaistcoatverymuch,”Elizasaid.ShetiltedherheadtowardthegentlemaninquestionandasMelville’seyesfollowed,shehadthesatisfactionofseeinghiseyebrowsflyupward,hisstrainedexpressionreplacedwithincredulity.
“Areheandmyvaletincahoots?”hedemanded.
Elizalaughed,butthereprievewasshort-lived:Melville’sfacehadalreadyrelapsedintounease.
“Didyouoverhearus?”heasked,regardinghisglassagain.
Ah.
“?‘Prudenceandeconomy’doesnotsoundlikeyou,”Elizasaid,ratherthanlie.Shemeantthewordsasatease,butMelvilledidnotseeminthemoodforteasing.
“PerhapsIhavechanged,”hesaidshortly.“Peoplecanchange,youknow.”
“Theycan,”Elizasaid.“Butwhyshouldyouneedto?”
IfMelville—brilliant,audaciousMelville—weresuddenlytodoubthimself,whathopewastherefortherestofthem?
“Iamwithoutapatron,”Melvilleexplainedabruptly.
HelookedatEliza,andthenbackdowntohisglass,andthenuptoheragain.
“LordPauletisapridefulman,”hesaid.“AndIthoughtIhadfoundanother…butIwasmistaken.”
“Oh,”Elizasaid.
Soitwastrue.Elizahadknownitwas,ofcourse,butshecouldnothelpbutfeeldiscomfortedtohavesuchconfirmation.Whichwasfoolish.ForwhatdiditmattertoherthatMelvillehadbeenhavinganaffairwithLadyPaulet?
“Isthatsodisastrous?”Elizaasked.
“Withoutapatron,”Melvillesaid,“Icannotpublishthisyear.AndifIcannotpublishthisyear,IcannotraisethefundsthatAlderleyneedsthiswinter—noraffordsuchluxuriesasphaetonsandParis.”
“Carolinesaidshewouldneedtoretreatabroadifshefinisheshernovelthissummer,”Elizarecollected.“Toshieldherfromwhateverunpleasantnesswillfollowitsrelease.”
“Abroad,yes,”Melvillesaid,rubbinghisjaw.“Butwewoulddobettersomewherelessexpensive.”
We?
“Youwouldgowithher?”Elizaasked.Itoughtnotbeasurprise,forthesiblingscameasanobviouspair,butElizafoundherselfdismayednonetheless.
Melvillescrubbedahandthroughhishair.
“Thegossipaboutmeisrising,notfalling,”hesaid.“IdonotthinkEnglandwillbeverypleasantifIamtobeblacklistedaswellascleanedout.”
“Itisnotfair,”Elizamuttered.Why,whenonethoughtofallthedisgracesByronhadperpetuatedbeforehavingtoleavethecountry—thenumerousloveaffairs,sideslipsandpublicexcessesallbeforethelaststrawofhisdivorce—whatdidMelville’sonelapsesignifyincomparison?
“Bestnottopullatthatthread,”Melvillesaid.“Foritisnotliketochange.”
“PerhapsIcouldbeyourpatron,”Elizaofferedimpulsively.“Iamrich,youknow.”
“SoIhear,”Melvillesaid,witharatherruefulsmile.“Andwhileitisverykind,Ishallhavetodecline.”
“Why?”Elizasaid.“Imaynotknowagreatdealaboutit,butIcouldcertainlyfindout.”
“Ihavenodoubtyoucouldperformtheroleexcellently,”Melvilleagreed.“ButIcannotacceptyourmoney.Mypride—suchasitis—preventsit.”
“Howbothersome,”Elizasaid,aslightlyasshewasable.
“Isn’titjust?”
“Well,”Elizasaid,thinking,“ifmyportraitisacceptedintotheexhibition,itshouldbebeneficialforpublicity,shoulditnot?Andperhapsthenyoumayfinditeasiertosecureanewpatron!”
“Perhaps…”Melvilledidnotseemcheeredbythisprospect.“Buthaveyoufullyconsideredwhatsuchpublicitymightmeanforyou,mylady?Wecan,ofcourse,submititanonymously,butthereshallbeagreatdealofinterestintheidentityoftheportraitist.”
“Ihave,”Elizasaidquietly.“Itwasmyidea.IhavewantedthissinceIknewwhatitwas.”
Melvillenodded.Theystoodinsilenceforamoment,untilthedancersceasedspinning,andeveryonebegantoapplaudthemusicians.
“Ireallyamsotiredoflookingon…”Elizasaid,watchingthem.
Melvilletookinabreaththen,inatrice,drainedhisglassandsetitdownuponthemantelpiecewithadecisiveclink.
“Well,then,”hesaid,holdinghishandoutexpectantly.“Letuschangethat.”
“Don’tbefoolish,”Elizasaid,battinghishandawaywithherfanandglancingaroundtochecknoonehadseen.
“Whynot?”
“Iaminmourning.”
“Idon’tthinkyou’veeverbeeninmourning.”
“Inmourningclothes,then.”
Heprofferedhishandagain.Behindhim,othercouplesweretakingthefloor,readyingthemselvesforthenextset.Itwastobeawaltz.
“Mylord,donot.Itissoagainstconvention,itmightaswellbeagainstthelaw,”shesaid,turningslightlyawaysoastoaffectthatshehadn’tseenit.
“Andwhatisthepurposeofconvention,ifnottobeflouted?”hedeclared.“Laws,ifnottobebroken?”
Elizalaughed.Melvilleraisedhishandhigher.Therewasachallengeinhisdarkeyes,provocativeandtempting,andyetaconfidencetoo—suggestingthathedidnotdoubtforamomentthatshewouldbebraveenoughtomeetit.Andasifinadream,Elizaplacedherhandinhis.Unlikethelasttimetheyhadtouchedinsuchaway,theirhandswerebothgloved,butElizacouldstillfeelthewarmth—andstrength—ofhisgripthroughthesatin.Withaquickglanceabouttheroomtomakesuretheywereunobserved,Melvilletuggedherastepbackward,throughthedoorsandoutontotheterrace.
“Whatareyou…”Elizastarted.
Theterracewasnotlit—insuchchangeablespringweather,LadyHurleyhadnotthoughtanybodywouldbebraveenoughtoheadoutdoors—butherewaslightenoughstreamingfromthewindowsthattheycouldseeoneanother,whiletheywouldremainhiddeninshadowtothepersonsinside.
Themusiciansinsidebegantoplaytheirfirst,openingnotes.Theycouldhearitoutherequiteasclearlyasiftheywerestillintheroom.Melvilletouchedafingertohislips,thenbowed.AndEliza,understandingatlasthisintention,sweptherskirtsoutinacurtseyasasmilespreadacrossherface.Asthegentlemeninsidebegantomove,sotoodidhe,closingthespaceinoneglidingstepuntiltherewasbarelyahair’sbreadthbetweenthem.Thisclose,Elizacouldseehehadtinyflecksofgoldwithinthedarkbrownofhisirises.Shehadnevernoticedthatbefore.
Theviolinsbegantoplayinearnestandthenhewasslidingonearmaroundherwaist,pullingherin,reachingforherrighthandwithhisleft,andthoughtheyhadnotevenbegunmovingyet,Elizawasbreathless.Togethertheybegantospin.Melvillewasagooddancer.Ofcoursehewas—sheoughttohaveknownhewouldbe.Thekindofdancer,infact,whoseemednoteventomindhisstepsatall,whoseemedtodoitsonaturallyitwasasifthiswashowhemovedalwaysanditjusthappenedthattonighttherewasmusic.Elizacouldhardlyseeherfeetinthedarkness;allshecoulddowasfollowthepressureofhishanduponherback,certainthathewouldnotleadherastray,andshelaughed,breathlessandexultant,felthisansweringlaughuponherneck.Theyrotatedquickerandquicker,dizzyingthemselvesfromtheconstantrotation,andElizahadneverfeltsowonderfullyirresponsible,soimpetuousandlight.
Shecouldnothavesaidexactlywhentheybothstoppedlaughing.Couldnothavesaidatwhatmomentherbreathlessnessceasedtobecausedbyquickstepsandstartedtobecausedby…somethingelse.ButitmusthavebeenaboutthesamemomentMelvillebegantoholdhertighter,pullherevencloser—thesamemomentthatherearrangedtheirhandssothat,insteadofthetraditionalclasp,palmtopalm,theirfingerswereintertwined—andwithoutquiteknowingwhy,theirgiddyandrecklessdancefeltabruptlyedgedwithakindofdesperation.
Theydidnotstopmovinguntiltheverylastviolinstringshadfadedfromtheair,andeventhentheydidnotdrawbackfromoneanother,remainingwheretheystood,entangledinoneanother,gazeslocked,utterlystill.ElizawasnotsureoftheexpressiononMelville’sface.Havingspentsolongstudyinghiscountenance,shethoughtshehadseeneveryshadeofemotionuponit—butshehadneverseenhimlookashedidnow.
Slowly,silently,byincrements,theydrewbackfromoneanother.MelvilleofferedElizaonefinal,verydeepbow.Inthesilencethemusichadleft,theirbreathingwastheonlysoundupontheair,heavywithmorethansimpleexertion.
“Mylady—”
Andshedidnotknowwhathewasgoingtosaybut…
“Weought,”Elizasaid,clearingherthroatwhenherwordscameoutalittlehoarsely,“weoughttogoinside.”
Melvillenoddedwithoutspeaking.Theycreptbackintothedrawingroom,Elizafirst,thenMelvilleafterafewmoments,justincaseanyonewaslookinginthatdirection.Buttheywerenot.Noonehadseen.Noonesuspected.ThewildestmomentofEliza’slife,andonlysheandheknewithadhappened.21
Elizafinishedtheportraitthenextday.Thenextmorning,truly,fornosoonerhadshewokenfromadisjointedsleepthanshewasjerkingupright—fallingintoherdressinggownanddownthestairsasifshewerelateforanappointment.Openingtheparlor’sdoor,Elizacrossedthefloorandopenedthebureautorummagethroughtheoilswithin.Seizingtheyellowandthebrownandthewhite,shesqueezedoutdropsofeachontoacleanstretchofherpalette.
Shedidnotputonherapron,norfoldbackhersleeves,beforesettingtowork,uncaringofanyrisktohergreyrobeandnightgown.Finally,whenshehadreachedexactlytherightshade,sheselectedhertiniestbrushoffinestsableandapproachedtheportrait.Itwastheworkofamoment,thefinaltouchshehadnotevenknownwasmissing:thetiniestfleckofgoldwithineacheye.
There!
Elizatookexactlysixstepsbackward,squeezinghereyesshutforamoment,sothatshemightlookuponitwithfresheyes,asanaudiencewould.Thelikeness,sheflatteredherself,wasclear—andbetterthanshecouldhavehoped.Itwasaheadandshoulderview.Onehandrestedlightlyuponthechest,asifMelvillewereabouttoplaywithhiscollar—whichheoftendidwhenhewasthinking—andeveninthestillnessofthepainting,therewassomehowasenseofmotion:hisfacesetatatilt,whiletheeyesremaineddirectlyregardingtheviewer,aplayfulchallengewithinthem.Exactlyhowhehadlookedatherlastnightasheaskedhertodance.
Itconveyedallshehadwantedto:Melville’shumorandslyness,butalsohiswarmthandcountenance.Onehanduponanotebook—cuffsbedeckedwithink—suggestedhemightbeabouttocomposeyouapoem,thecurltohislipsthathewasabouttosaysomethingoutrageous.Elizafeltherownmouthtwitchinresponse,asunabletoresistthisMelville’steasingasshewastherealone.
Elizatookastepcloser.Yes,nowthatshehadseenMelvilleat…atsuchclosequarters,shecouldbequitecertainthelikenesswasverygood.Withtheeyesfinallyright,thewholeportraitseemedtocomealive,andwhileitcouldneverbeascompellingashewasinreallife,ashehadbeen,handinhersuponthatterrace,hisdrawsopalpablethatshewonderedithadnotpulledmorepeopleoutontotheterracewiththem,itgaveanimpressionofit.
Shehadbeenabletoconvey,too,asshedidwhenpaintingMargaret,heraffectionforthesubject.Itwasthere,obvioustohereveniftonooneelse,asclearasifitwereanothercoloronthecanvas,thestrengthoftheregardshefeltforhim.Inaportraitthatseemedallabouttouch—offingers,oflips,ofeyes,thepaintbrushtooseemedalmosttobecaressingitssubjectwithwarmth,withaffection,with…
Andallatonce,asifithadalwaysbeenthere,itbecameverycleartoElizathatshewasinlovewithhim.
Therevelationcameslowlyandyetinstantaneously.Aswhenonesearchesforawordthatstandsoutofreachofthemindfordays—butthen,whenhearingit,oneknowsimmediatelythatitisthecorrectone.ShewasinlovewithMelville.Anditseemedquitepossiblethatshehadbeenforalongtime.Shehadfeltdrawntohimfromthebeginning,ofcourse—butthen,soverymanypeoplewere,andattractionwasnotlove,howeverthrilling.Itmusthavecreptuponher,stealthyandunobserved,bornoutoftheirlongconversations,hisregardandcuriosityforherthoughts,opinions,skills,thelaughtertheyhadshared…
Elizastaggeredbackfromtheportraitandsankdownontothesofa.Itwasimpossible!Itwassurelyimpossible.ShewasinlovewithSomerset.ShewasengagedtoSomerset.ShecouldnotbeinlovewithMelville,too.Butwhenshelookedattheportrait,thetruthstaredherintheface,asplainasday.
“Margaret!”Elizacalled,hervoiceshrill.“Margaret,canIborrowyouforamoment?”
“Issomethingwrong?”Margaretcalledback,thoughsheappearedobedientlyintheparlorafewmomentslater,hastilydressedandredhairfallingabouthershoulders.
“Oh,Eliza!”shesaid.“It’swonderful!Thelikenessissuperb.”
Elizasearchedherfaceclosely,thereseemedtobenoevidencethatshewasundergoinganyofthesamerevelationsasEliza.
“Youlikeit?”shesaid.“Itseems…normaltoyou?”
“Normal?”Margaretsaidquizzically.“Itresembleshim,ifthatiswhatyouaremeaning,moststrongly.Yououghttobeproudofit.”
Elizabreathedoutasigh.Therewasnoneed,then,tomakeaconfession.
“IthinkI’minlovewithMelville!”Elizablurtedout,hervoicesolouditmadeMargaretjumpbackward.
“Goodness,Eliza!”shecomplained.
“DidyouhearwhatIsaid?”
“Yes,foritwasrightinmyear,”shesaid,rubbingatit.
“Youdonotseemshocked!”Elizasaid,accusatory.
“Well,Iamnot,”Margaretsaid.
“Excuseme?”
“Come,Eliza,”Margaretsaid,asifElizawereasmallchildrefusingtobehave.“Thewayyouspeaktooneanother.Thewayyouflirt.Youmusthavesuspectedsomethingbeforenow.”
“Ididnot,”Elizasaidfaintly.“IswearIdidnot.IhavebeensofocuseduponSomerset,I—IhavealwayslovedSomerset…Ineverconsideredthistobeeventheslightestpossibility.”
Elizapacedthelengthoftheroom,satdownuponthesettee,stoodbackupagain,lookedattheportrait,closedhereyesandpressedherhandstoherface.Whathadshedone?Inthelightofsucharevelation,herbehavioroverthepastfewweeksappearedverysuspect—theflirtation,theteasing,thedancing!ShehadbetrayedSomerset’strustineverywayshecould.
“Whatareyougoingtodo?”Margaretasked.
“Nothing,”Elizasaidatonce.
“Youarenotgoingtotellhim?”
“Tellhim?Tellhim?Tellhim?”
“Iamsensingtheanswerisno,”Margaretsaid.
“Margaret,youdonotseemtounderstandthegravityofthesituation,”Elizasaid.“IamasgoodasengagedtoSomerset.IloveSomerset.IloveOliver.”
Shefeltasurgeofpowerfulguiltthatshehadevenconsideredshemightloveanother—whenshehadpromisedherselftoOliver,shehadmeantitwithherentirebeing.Thathadtocountforsomething.
“Doyoulovehim?”Margaretsaid,eyesnarrowing.
Elizatookadeepbreath.ShethoughtofSomerset.Shethoughtofhisletters,thewaytheymadeherfeel.Howithadfelttoseehimagain,inJanuary.Howithadfelttotouchhim,tokisshim,inthecarriageonthatnightoftheconcert.Asifsomethinglosthadbeenreturnedtoher,longaftershehadrenouncedallhopeofitsrestoration.
“Yes,”Elizasaid.
“MorethanMelville?”Margaretsaid.
“I…”Elizastarted.“Idonotknow.”
Forhowcouldonecomparethetwo?Oneshehadcarriedwithher,herwholelifeithadseemed.Itwasrequited,andclosenowtobeinghersforperpetuity.Theothershehadonlyjuststumbledacross.AndMelville?EverywomaninEnglandseemedtohaveatendressefortheman.Hecouldhavehispickofanyone.Andwhilehemight—might—befondofEliza,yes,andflirtwithher,thattoo,andsometimeslookatherasthoughhewasdelightedbythemeresightofher…
“Itdoesnotmatter,”Elizasaid.“IampromisedtoSomerset.HeisthemanIwillmarry.”
“Youarenotengagedyet,”Margaretpointedout.
“Weareasgoodas,”Elizasaidfiercely.“AndIwillnot—Icannot—jilthimforasecondtime,Margaret.Icannot.”
Thesoundofhoovesuponthecobblesoutsidehadherlookingtowardthewindow.
“Caroline!”Elizasaid.“Ihadforgotten.”
Shemusthavesleptlatethismorning.Shehadnotevenhadbreakfast.
Shelookeddownatherselfasifexpectingtofindherselfmiraculouslygownedinahabit.Shewasnot.
“Youcouldcancel,”Margaretsuggested.
“No,no!I—Idonotwantto,”Elizasaid.
Shewantedeverythingtobenormal,forallthathadjustoccurredtobeplacedbackfromwhenceitcame.
“ThenIshalldelayher,”Margaretsaideasily.“Whileyouchange.”
AndalthoughCarolinewasnotoriouslyimpatientatsuchdelays,whenElizafinallyemergedfromthehouse,wearingherblackhabit,glovesandvelvetbeaverhat,shedidnotseemirritated.
“Shehathrisen!”Carolinecalled,leaningupfromwhereshehadbeenbenttowardMargaret.
“Myapologies,”Elizasaid,asMargaretsteppedbackfromthecarriageandCaroline’sgroomthrewElizaupintotheseat.“Whatarewepracticingtoday?”
“Junctions!”Carolinesaidmerrily,andshesetthehorsesoff.
ForallofEliza’sabstraction,thatdaymadeforagoodlesson,oneofthefewwhereElizafeltasifshewereproperlydrivingwithameasureofcompetency,ratherthanthosewhereshefeltshemightcryfromfrustration.
“Verygood,”Carolinesaid,afterafewminutesofwatching.“Iampersuadedthatsoonyoumightbeabletohaveaphaetonofyourown.”
“Ofmyown?”Elizasaid,startledbythethought.“I’msureIamnotnearlydashingenoughforthat.”
“Well,youcannotalwaysbeborrowingmine!”Carolineretorted.“Iamnotnearlykindenoughforthat.”
Elizalaughed.“Ihaveseenampleproofofyourkindness.DoyoureallythinkIamready?”
“IndeedIdo,”Carolinesaidpromptly.“Youmaynotyetbedrivingtoaninch,butyouarenotfaroff.Perhapsnotahighperch,butIthinkyoumightmanagesomethingalittlestaider—thoughinaveryfinecolor.”
“Perhapsaviolet,orapink?AsIamaverygrandlady,”Elizasuggested.
“Oh,whychoose?Stripes,Isay!”
Elizalaughed.Thedecisiontocomeouttodayhadbeenagoodone.Outhere,inthehills,shedidnotneedtothinkofSomerset,orofMelville.Therewastoomuchelsetoconcentrateon.
“Butperhapsyoumaynotwanttomakesuchapurchase,”Carolinesaid.“Wouldyougetenoughusefromit,atHarefield?”
Eliza’ssmileabruptlyfadedfromherface.
“Margarethasnotbrokenanyconfidences,”Carolinesaidquicklyandunnecessarily,forElizaknewthatMargaretguardedhersecretsascloselyasadragonhoardinggold,justasElizadidinreturn.“ButthewayshehasbegunspeakingindicatesthatshebelievesyourtimeinBathtobesoonatanend.Anditisnotdifficulttodivinewhy.”
Eliza,navigatingacorner,didnotanswer.Forwhatcouldshesay?
“AmItowishyouhappy?”Carolinepressed.
“Suchwisheswouldbe…atriflepremature,”Elizasaidatlast.
ThisCarolineappearedtoaccept.Therewasasilenceforamoment,then,“Atleastyouwillnothavetochangeyourname.”
Elizacouldnothelpbutlaugh.
“Haveyoueverbeentempted,mylady?”Elizaasked,onceshehadmasteredherself.“Bymarriage,Imean.”
“Tempted?Yes,”Carolinesaidwithaslysmile.“Bymarriage?No.”
“Isitthatyounevermetagentlemanyoufeltaffectionfor?”Elizaasked,curiousaseverformoredetailsofthelady’slife.
“Afteralifetimeofmynamealreadycomingsecondtomybrother’s,”Carolinesaid,“Iaminnohurrytorelegatemineintothirdplace.”
AtEliza’sinquisitivelook,sheadded:“FirstMelville’ssister,thenLordWhosit’swife—forifIammarrying,Iassumehimtobeamarquisatleast—andCaroline,third.”
“Ididnotknowthatbotheredyou,”Elizasaid.“YouandMelvilleseemtorubalongsonicelytogether.”
“Oh,itisanoldwound—watchtheirmouthsnow!”Carolinesaid.
TherewasalittleintervalinthediscussionasCarolinetalkedElizathroughloopingthereinsandthentheywereontheirwayagain.
“Iamtheelder,youknow,”Carolinesaidabruptly.“Peopleforget,butIamtheelder.Thefirsttobeginwriting.Butineveryotherway,Ihavecomesecond.Hewasthefirsttobepublished.Themoresuccessful.Heinheritedthetitle.Andmynamewillalwaysappear…second.Foreverthepostscript.”
Elizadidnotspeak,forwhatcouldshesay?Shecouldnotsayitwasuntrue,foritwasafact;shecouldnotsayitmightnotbethatwayalways,foritwould
“MarriagecannotoffermeanyadvantageIdonotalreadypossess,”Carolinesaidafterapause.“Ialreadyenjoyindependence,rankandfreedom.WhatmotivewouldIhavetomarry?”
“Youdonotconsiderlovetobeamotive?”Elizaasked.
Carolinelookedatheralittleaskance.
“Iwouldhavethoughtyouknewagreatdealbetterthanmostthatmarriagerarelyhasanythingtodowithlove,”shesaid.
“Ido,”Elizaacknowledged,“butknowingithasnotpreventedmefromyearningforit,still—norsomanyfromveneratingtheidea.”
“Butwhyisromanticlovetobesovenerated?”Carolinedemanded.“ItisthegreatestfraudulenceofwhichIcanthink:onewilldoanything,forgiveanythinginserviceoflove.One’slovercanbecowardly,selfish,thoughtless,chooseyoulast,always…andyet,inadorationofthem,onewilldoalmostanything,nomatterhowunhappyitmakesone,nomatterhowunlikelytheyareevertoofferyouthesame,inreturn.”
Carolinehadlost,inthespeech,thelanguorthatusuallycharacterizedher.Hervoicewasvehement,bitter.
“Youspeakassomeonewhoknows,”Elizasaid.
Carolinedismissedthiswithaflapofherhand—thelanguorreturning.
“Iendeavortospeakwithconfidenceonallmatters,thatisall,”shesaid.“Thoughitsoundedgood,diditnot?”
IthadcertainlymadeElizawonderafterthegentlemanwhohadbrokenCaroline’sheartsothoroughly.22
Thatnight,Elizacouldnotsleep.ShehadreturnedfromherdrivewithCaroline,convincedthatthewholebusinesswithMelville’sportraitwasahallucination,onlytofind,whenshehadgoneupstairstoregarditoncemore,thatherlovewasstillthere,quiteasclearasdayandjustasdamningasithadbeenanhourbefore.Itwassoveryblatant,evenindecent,andElizacouldnoteventhinkofitnowwithoutarushofheatflyingtoherface.
Herbodywastired—sotired—buthermindhadneverbeenlivelier,boundingfromMelvilletoSomersetandbackagainwithsuchrapiditythatElizaalmostfeltnauseous.Intheend,whencountingsheepandreadingbycandlelightandsketchinginherportfoliohadnoneofthemworked,sheresortedtoapieceofcomfortshehadnotsoughtsinceshewasachild.Shegotupinhernightgown,walkedacrossthehallwaytoMargaret’sbedchamber,knockingsoftlyuponthedoor,andpeekedinside.
“Eliza?”Margaret’ssleepyvoicewhispered.
“Ican’tsleep,”Elizasaid.
Margaretgrunted.Elizatookthisasinvitationandliftedthecoverstoclimbinnexttohercousin.Thebedwasbigenoughthattheyneednoteventouch,butElizareachedoutandtwinedherfingersthroughMargaret’sanyway,justastheyhadwhentheywerechildren.
“Ifyousnore,Ishallmakeyouleave,”Margaretthreatenedsleepily,thoughwithasqueezetoEliza’shand.“Idonotcarehowupsetyouare.”
Elizagaveasoftlaugh.Therewassilenceintheroom,foralongwhile.Forsolong,infact,thatElizabelievedMargarethadfallenasleep,andwhenshespoke,itwasalmostmoretoaskherwordsofthenightthanitwastoaskMargaret
“Isittrulypossible,”shewhispered,“tolovetwopersonsequally,atthesametime?”
Therewasasilence.
“Idonotknow,”Margaretsaidsoftly.“Ihaveonlyeverlovedone.”
IttookamomentforElizatorealizethefullimplicationsofsuchastatement.
“Ithought…”shesaidslowly,“thatyouhadneverhadaparticulartendreforanyone.”
“Ihadn’t,”Margaretsaid.“Beforewecamehere.”
AhorriblepossibilitydawneduponEliza.
“NotMelville?”shesaidurgently.
“No,yougoose,”Margaretsaid,notinherusualimpatientway,butwobblier.Almostafraid.“Caroline.”
IttookElizaalittlewhiletounderstand.Foramomentshethoughtshemightindeedhavemisheard.
“Caroline…”sherepeatedslowly.
Margaretnoddedherheadagainstthepillow.ThehandwithinEliza’strembledslightly.
“Oh.Oh.”
Eliza’smindbegantoconnectathousandpiecesofinformation.Ahundreddifferentmomentsshehadnoticedbutneverdivinedtheirtruemeaning.
“Andyou…?Itisofaromanticnature,thislove?”shechecked.
“Itisasyousaid,Eliza,”Margaretwhispered.“WhenIseeher,IfeelasifIhavebeenstruckbylightning.”
“Anddoesshefeelforyou,thesameway?”
“Idonotknow,”Margaretsaid.“Therearemoments,somanymoments,whenIamsosure,socertainthatshedoes,whenIfeelasifweunderstandoneanotherperfectly,but…”
“But?”
“Butshedoesnotact,”Margaretsaidmiserably.
“Perhapssheiswaitingforyoutoact,”Elizasuggested.
Margaretgavealittlesnortofdisbelief.
“WhensheissomuchmoreworldlythanI?”shesaid.“WhyoughtIriskmyselffirst?”
“Sheisworldly,yes,”Elizasaidslowly,“andusedtofarmoreindependencethanwehavebeen,certainly,butshedoestraversetheworlddifferentlytous,Margaret.Theybothdo.”
ElizathoughtbacktowhatCarolinehadtoldher,somanyweeksagonow,ofthegreatvarianceofstandardsbetweenherandCarolineLamb—thesameflagrantvariancethatexistedbetweenMelvilleandhisclosestcontemporaries.
“Societyjudgesthemfarmoreharshly,”Elizasaid.“Perhapstheriskfeelsevengreatertoher.”
“Idonotknow,”Margaretwhispered.“AndIamtooafraidtoask.”
Elizacouldunderstandthis.Noonewantedtohavetoaskiftheirfeelingswerereciprocated—andundersuchcircumstancesasthese,therisksstoodfarhigherthanmereembarrassment.ButnowthatElizawasconsideringeachandeveryoneofMargaretandCaroline’sinteractionswithneweyes,shecouldonlywonderthatshehadnotnoticedtheirthrummingtensionbefore.
“Sheflirtswithyou,”Elizadecided.“Mostassuredlyshedoesflirt.Perhapsthereisawaywecouldfindout—Icould—”
ButMargaretwasshakingherhead.
“Evenifwecould,forwhatpurpose?”shewhispered.“OhEliza,Ihaveconsideredit.Butwecouldneverbetogether,notproperly.”
“Couldyounot?”Elizaasked.“ConsidertheLadiesofLlangollen.”
“Believeme,IhaveconsideredtheLadiesofLlangollen,”Margaretsaid.
“Thegossipsuggests,”Elizapersisted,“thattheirrelationshipisromanticinnature,butsolongastheygivesocietytheexcuseoffriendship,meetproprietiesonthesurface,noonedoesathingtostopit.”
“Exceptfromgossip,”Margaretsaid.“Andtheystareandspeculateandlaugh—andtheladiesmaywellbehappy,butaretheyinvitedtodinnerparties?Dotheirfamiliesstillspeaktothem?Aretheyacceptedbysociety?”
Elizadidnotreply,forwhatreassurancecouldshegive?Therewasareason,sheimagined,thattheLadiesofLlangollenchosetoliveinsuchseclusion,andtheirromancewasonlyrumored—andwhiletheconsequenceofsucharelationshipbeingpubliclyconfirmedwasnotfatal,asitwasformen,socialexilewasstillnotriflingmatter.
“Besides,”Margaretsaid,“Ihavenoindependentmeans,andinafewmoreweeks,Ishallhavenohomeotherthanmysister’s—andCarolineandIwillnotcomeacrossoneanotheragain.”
ItwasunlikeMargarettosoundsodefeated,andEliza’schestachedtohearit.Surelytherewasasolution,awayforward,something,thatwouldgiveMargaretthefutureshedeserved.
“Idonotthinkyououghttogiveupentirely,”Elizawhispered.“Ifitwerekeptentirely,strictlysecret,perhaps…”
“Iamtired,Eliza,”MargaretsaidandElizadidnotthinkshemeantjusttonight.
Elizasubsidedforamoment,closinghereyes,butMargaret’srevelationhadmadeheronlymoreawake.
“Wasitherpurpledressthatmadeyoufallinlovewithher?”Elizawhispered
Margaretsnorted.
“Iamoffendedyouthinkmesoshallow.”
“Ihavenothingelsetogoon!”Elizasaid.SheturnedquicklyontohersidetotryandseeMargaret’sexpressionbetter.“Startfromthebeginning,”sheinstructed.“Anddonotleaveanythingout.”
Thatnight,theystayedupintotheearlyhoursofthemorning,spillingalltheirthoughtsintothedarknessbetweenthem,smallandlargeandmyriad—confidencessograndthatnotanothersoulcouldbetrustedwiththem,trivialitiessosmallthatnotanothersoulwouldbeinterestedinthem.Andifnoconclusionswerereached,nosolutionsdivined,thenatleastbythetimetheyclosedtheireyes,unabletofightsleepanylonger,itwassafeintheknowledgethatwhatevertomorrowbrought,theywouldfaceittogether.
“Youdidsayyouwouldneveragainmarryforduty,”Margaretsaid,hervoiceasthickassoup.“IfthatiswhatyouaredoingwithSomerset…”
“IdoloveSomerset,”Elizasaid.“WhateverIfeelforMelville…itisnerves,nomore.Apassingfancy.”
“Ifyousayso,”Margaretsaid,dubious.
“Itisapassingfancy,”Elizasaidaroundtheshapeofayawn.“Ipromise.”23
Itwasnotapassingfancy.Elizamighthavebeenabletoconvinceherself,hadshebeenabletoavoidMelvilleforanythingmorethanasingleday,butasiftomakeupforhisrecentstringofabsences,MelvilleappearedatCamdenPlacetheverynextmorningwithCaroline.Theywerebothfullofvim,declaringtheirintentionofescortingElizaandMargaretuponavisittothecoachhousesofBath,inorderthatElizamightpurchaseherownphaeton.HadElizabeenabletoprepareherselfforthevisit,perhapsitmighthavebeeneasiertoactnormallyinMelville’spresence,butasitwas,shecouldnotevenlookathimwithoutblushing.Indeed,eveninthespaceoftheirshortvisit,ElizaflushedsooftenandwithsuchseveritythatMelvilleinquiredastowhethershehadperhapscaughtalittlesunstroke.
“ItisMarch!”sheresponded,thrown.
“Soitis,”Melvilleagreed.“Butthen,Iamnottheonewhohasit.”
Instead,ElizaauthorizedMargarettoactuponherbehalf;shewasafinerjudgeofhorsefleshthanEliza,anyway,anditwouldsaveElizafromexpiringfromanexcessofblushing.
YouareengagedtoSomerset,Elizaremindedherself,youareengagedtoSomerset
ShedidnottellMelvillethattheportraitwasfinished—thatitonlyhadnowtodry—butonelookatMargaret’sguiltyface,whenshereturnedfromthelivery,toldElizathatshehadletitslip.Thenextafternoon,therefore,shepreparedherselfforMelville’scallwithgrimdetermination.Hispresencewouldnotundoher.
“Goodmorning!”shesaid,whenheenteredtheparlor,tryingtomakehervoicebrightandsunny.“Alovelydaywearehaving!”
Helookedfromhertothewindow,whererainwassplatteringagainstthepanes.
“Ohsplendid,”heagreed.“Whereisit?”
Hewasbouncingalittleontheballsofhisfeetwithexcitement.Elizatriedandfailedtonotfindthisendearing.
“Overthere,”shesaid,gesturingtowardtheeasel,whichshehadshroudedinawhitecloth.
“Isitdead?”heasked,eyebrowsflyingcomicallyup.“Orjustsleeping?”
“Itisjusttohideitfromview,”sheexplained.
“AndhereIthoughtthepointwasforittobelookedat.”
“Itis,”Elizasaid.“Ofcourse.SoIshallshowittoyou—showittoyou…Now…”
Shepausedamomentlonger,rallied,andthenliftedthefabricoff.
Elizaturnedimmediatelytowatchhisfaceashetookitin—shewantedtoseehisreactionbeforehehadtimetomodulateit—butshehadnotbeenfastenough,foreveninthatshortestofmoments,hehadwipedhisfacecleanofexpression,asheonlydidwhenhewastryingtohidehisthoughts.Itwasthesubtlestofshifts,oneElizawouldnothavenoticedhadshenotspentthebetterpartofamonthstudyinghisfaceinminutedetail.Whatwashetryingtohide?
“Melville?”shesaiduncertainly.“Doyounotlikeit?”
Hestartedalittle.
“Itisperfect!”hesaidquickly.“Morethan…morethanIcouldhavehoped.”
Helookedather,thenbacktothepainting,andthenbacktoheragain.Elizafeltherpalmsbegintosweat.Whywashebehavingsounusually?Wasitpossible…?CoulditbethatMelvillehadbeenabletodivinefromitwhatElizahad?
“Ofcourse,withsuchahandsomesubject,howcoulditnotbe?”Melvillesaid.Allatonce,thepuzzlingatmosphereintheroombroke.
“Nowwemusthopeitsetsquickly,”shesaid,“forthesending-indayisfastapproaching.”
Elizacouldnotpreventafaintnoteofanxietyfromenteringhervoice.Shehadmadenosubstantialadditionsforoverase’nnight,anddoneeverything—fromcarefullyselectingthemixestodiligentlyensuringtheparlor’sconstantwarmth—toassistthedryingprocess,butevenso,totransportapaintingsofar,sosoonaftercompletion,wasariskindeed.
“Ishallhaveitcollectednextweek,”Melvillesaid.“Anddirectmymantotreatitwiththeutmostdelicacy.”
TheyhadagreedMelvillewouldseetheportraitframedandsubmitted—onbehalfofhisanonymousportraitist—soastoprotectEliza’sidentity.Anynews,ofacceptanceorrejection,wouldgotohim.
“Icannotquitebelieveitisfinished,”Elizasaidquietly,theprofundityofthemomentsuddenlydawninguponher.Inthehorrorofherrealization,shehadquiteforgottentotakeintherest.“Thankyou,foraskingme.”
ShelookedupatMelville.
“Ithoughtyouquitemad,whenyoudid,”sheconfessed.“ButIamsogladIsaidyes.”
“Iamveryglad,too,”hesaidsimply.
Heheldouthishand.Elizahesitated,wonderingwildlyifhemeanttodancewithheragain,andthenplacedhersinhis.Melvillebroughtherhanduptohisfaceandpressedakisstoherknuckles,holdingEliza’seyesallthewhileandtherewasamoment,oneshining,briefmoment,whereElizaalmostforgotwhyshecouldnotlovehim.
Andthensheremembered.Shepulledherhandback.
“Ishallhavetowishyougoodday,mylord,”shesaid,voicetremblingalittle.
Itcouldnotbe.Itsimplycouldnot.
Melvillegaveaquick—almostflustered—nodofhishead,andleft.
GrosvenorSquare
March30th’19
Eliza,
Theshortestofnotes—Icanonlyapologizeforsuchbrevity—IhavearrivedinLondon,wheretheSeasonisinfullswingandpreparationsareunderwayforAnnie’sball.Youcanimagine,Iamsure,thefurorAugustaiscreating—anditdemandsfarmoreofmytimethanIhadpredicted.
Justawordonditches—Mr.PenneywrotetomeregardingthepossibilityoffloodinginChepstow,andIhaveauthorizedourtrenchtocontinueacrosstheborderontoyourterritory.Asthelandsaresosoontoberejoined,Iamsureyouwillnotmindsuchanoverstep.Swiftactiononsuchoccasionsis,afterall,essential.
IshallremainheresevendaysmoreandthenIwillreturntoyou.Iamcountingdownthehours!
Yours,
Somerset
CamdenPlace
April2nd’19
Mr.Penney,
FromyourrecentcorrespondencedirectlywithSomerset,Icanonlyassumeyoumusthavemislainmycorrespondenceaddress.Pleasefinditabove.Itrustanyquestionsregardingmylandswillbeappliedtoonlymyselfinfuture.
Yourssincerely,
LadySomerset24
ThesecondofAprilmarkedayearandadaysincetheoldearl’sdeath.ThedatewasamorebittersweetaffairthanElizawouldhavepredicted,monthsbefore.Anydaynow,theyexpectedMargarettobesentfor,infusingeacharrivalofthepostwithasenseofjeopardy,andinaweek,regardless,SomersetwouldreturntocarryElizaoff.Witheachpassingday,Elizafeltmoredisturbed.ShewishedSomerset’slettersmightstillhavethetenorofthatveryfirstnote,fortoreceivebilletsevershorterinlength,andmoreirritatingintheirhigh-handedness—didhetrulythinkshewouldnotmindsuchaninterference?—wascausingherapprehensionathisreturntobuildevenhigher.
Atleast,however,Elizawasatlastabletoshedherblacksandthemostsevererestrictionsuponher.MadamePrevettehadoutdoneherselfwithEliza’snewwardrobe—herskillinrenderingeventhesobercolorsofgreyandlavenderintothemostdashinggownsimaginablewassuperb.Eachday,Elizasighedwithdelighttochooseherdresses:therewastheslate-greysilk,withitsdemi-trainandthelittlelaceruffaroundherthroat,thedove-greycrêpe,adornedwithblackribbonstocompensateforthelightercolor,aclingingrobeoflavendersilkforeveningwear,andastone-coloredridinghabit,trimmedaroundthebodywithswansdown.
Afterthemonotonyofwearingblackeverydayforthepastyear,eventhismutedpalettefeltaveritableexplosionofcolortoEliza,andaftermonthsofcirculatingsolelythroughthesamethreeorfourlocationsinBath,Elizawasfinallytobeinvestedwithalittlevariety.LadyHurleyhadalreadyleftforLondonandwassorelymissedbythemall—theWinkworths,too,hadgone,thoughmissedtheywerenot—butBathwasstillbusyenoughforEliza’slikingandbythefifthdayofApril,shehadalreadyattendedacardparty,apicnicexpeditionandatriptothetheater.ButonthesixthofApril,somethingofevengreaterexcitementoccurred:Eliza’sphaetonarrived.Itwasnotvioletorpink,assheandCarolinehadjoked,butagleamingblackwithredlininguponthebodyframe.Elizawassoproudofitshethoughtshemightburst.
“Lookather!”shedeclaredtoCaroline,whohadwalkedaroundtoviewit.
“Iamgladyouapprove,”Carolinesaid,smiling.
“Weoughttonameher,”Margaretsaid.
“Asonedoesaboat?”Carolinelaughed.
“Suchagrandladydeservesaname,”Elizaagreed.
“Oh,sheisaladynow,isshe?”Melvilleasked.“Whatadmirablesocialascension.”
“Sheisattheveryleastaduchess,”Elizadeclared.
“Wemusttakeheronaproperouting,”Carolinesaid.
“CanitbeWells?”Margaretsuggestedeagerly.“Ihaveyettoseethecathedral’smechanicalfeature,andIwondered…”
Melvillewrinkledhisnose.
“Thecathedralitis,”Carolinesaidpromptly,andElizalookeddowntohideasmile.
“Ishalldrivemyphaeton,andLadySomersetmayfollowwithhers.Today!”
Theysetoutwithinthehour,andasElizawoundherwaythroughBath’sstreetsinpursuitofCaroline,shefeltherselftobeverydashing,indeed.CarolinehadinstructedMelvilletoaccompanyEliza,incasetheyranintoanydifficultyupontheroad—Melville,ofcourse,wasquiteasprodigiousawhipashissister—andElizaresignedherselftoadayofblushing.ButasthecarriageranlikeadreamandMelvillemadealltheappropriatesoundsofadmiration,loungingbackintheseat,shecouldnotbringherselftoregretthearrangement.
ElizasweptontoBennettStreetandthenboreasharprightontotheCircus,whereshehadtocheckherhorsesinordertomakeherwaycarefullythroughthiscrowdedthoroughfare.Astheypassedalong,theywerehailedbyMr.Berwick,whogaped,quiteagog,atEliza.
“What,”Melvillesaidingreatconsternation,“isthatmanwearing?”
AndElizahadtospareaglance,aswellaskeepaweathereyeuponthehackneycabdrawingupontheothersideoftheroad,toseethatMr.BerwickwaswearingtheexactshadeofyellowpantaloonthatMelvillehadbeensoproudofinhisownwardrobe.Melville’soutragelastedallthewayoutofBath.
“Firstmyhair!”hecomplainedtoEliza.“Thenmywaistcoat—andnowmypantaloons!”
“Youdonotownamonopolyonyellowpantaloons,”Elizapointedout.
“Thatisnotthepoint,LadySomerset!”Melvillesaidinspiritedrejoinder.“Itiswheresuchcriminalimitationwillleadthatconcernsme.PerhapsonedayhewillappearatthePumpRoomandyoushallseehehasstolenmyskinandmeanstowearmeasasuit!”
“That,”saidEliza,“isthemostrevoltingthingIhaveeverheard.”
“Iagree,”Melvillesaidemphatically.“ItisnotIwhowouldbedoingit!”
Elizadissolvedintolaughter.Aweekonfromherrevelation,sheknewtheimpossibilityofrepressingherfeelingsforhim—shecouldnomoreunlearnhersentimentsforMelville,thanshecouldunseethesuneachday.Everymomentshespentwithhimwastounderstandmorefullywhyshefeltthewayshedid:howmuchshelikedthewayhemadeherlaugh,evenwhenshewasoutofsorts.Evenwhenshewasoutofsortswithhim,evenwhenshedidnotwantto.Shelikedhistotalandentirebeliefinhercompetence:whetheratdriving,orpainting,ormerelyuponsocialoccasions,hedidnottreatherwiththegallantryorsolicitationthatshewasusedtofromothergentlemen,askingconstantlywhethershewascoldorwarmorwouldlikeadrinkorwasfeelingtired;nordidheassumeinherafemininedelicacysomanypersonsseemedtotakeforgrantedfromthemeresightofher.AndthatshestilllovedSomerset,thatshewasstillasdeterminedasevertomarryhim,didnotseemtosignifyonejot.
Indeferencetopropriety,theyavoidedallofthepublicturnpikeroadsthatmighthavemadetheirjourneyquickerbutwouldalsohaveallowedeveryTom,DickandHarryfromBathtoWellstogawpatthemanditthereforetookovertwohourstoreachthecathedraltown,whichstoodatmorethaneighteenmilesfromBathacrosstheMendipHills.Oncetheyarrived,theyrestedthehorsesataninnwhiletheydawdledaboutthecathedral.Itwascertainlybeautiful,andthefamousclockdidnotdisappointEliza:abovetheface,figuresofjoustingknightsonhorsebackchargedinacirclewhenthebellschimedonthehour,thoughMelvilleconfessedthathehadratherhopedtheymightspinatquarterpastthehour,too.
TheydawdledaboutthecathedralforonlytwoiterationsofthemechanismandmadeanexcellentnuncheonbeforetherapidlydarkeningskieswarnedthemthataswiftreturntoBathwasadvisable.Sureenough,amerehourintotheirjourney,itbegantorain.
“Ohhell,”Melvillesaid.“Areyoucold?”
“Notyet,”Elizasaid,huddlinghercloakabouther.Butastheskybegantodarken,andtherainworsen—thetrackgettingmuddierandmuddier—Elizadidindeedbegintoshiver.
“Notlongnow,”Melvillesaidencouragingly,throwinghisowncloakaroundheraswell.
ItwasnotthecoldthatwasbotheringEliza,butthepoorvisibility,forwithsheetsofdrizzlecomingdownandtheafternoonskypurpling,itwasbecomingmoredifficulttomakeouttheroad.
“Perhapsyououghttotakethereins…”Elizasaidanxiously,astheybumpedoveradivotshehadfailedtospot.
“Youhaveitwellinhand,”Melvillesaidcalmly.
“Couldyou—speaktome,”Elizasaid,handsclenching.
“Whatdoyouwishtospeakof?”
“Anything—howisMedea?”
“Vengeful,”Melvillesaid.“Demanding.”
Elizasmiledabstractedly,asshetriedtokeepCaroline’scarriagewithinhersights.Shewasbreathingratherquickly.
“Iamdoubtful,however,”Melvillewentonwithalightvoice,asifElizawerenotabouttovibrateoutofherseatwithanxiety,“thatMedeaisliketoseethelightofday.Paulethas,verydisagreeably,seenfittoblockmyeveryavenuetopublication.”
“Butstillyouwriteit?”
Elizareinedthehorsesintonavigateatrickycorner,thengavethemtheirheadsagainoncetheywerebackuponthestraightandMelvillegaveanappreciativemurmurbeforeanswering.
“Timewas,Iwouldhavepetulantlyabandonedtheendeavoriftherewasnochancetoseeitprinted.Butthoughitisjustforme,Idonotthinkitanylessworthwhile.”
Thewordswerefamiliar,andElizapuzzledforamomentoverwhoMelvillecouldbequoting,beforerealizing…
“Isaidthat.”
“Soyoudid,”Melvilleagreed.“Isupposeyoumayconsideryourselfmyinspiration:seeingthecareyouputintothosepaintingsinyourparlor,withnohopeorexpectationoftheireverbeingseen,strucksomethingofachord.”
AndEliza,predictably,blushed—allofasuddenquitegladfortheweather,togiveheranexcusetostarefixedlyforward.Itseemednowtherainwasatlastbeginningtoclear,andastheyprogressedontothefirmerroadsthatsurroundedBath,Elizawasabletoreleaseherhunchoverthereins.Bythetimetheyreachedthetown,itwaslongaftertheyhadmeanttoreturn.
ElizadroveMelvilledirectlytohisdoorstep.TherewasnosignofCaroline—shehaddrawnaheadmilesbeforeandmustnowhavegonetoCamdenPlacetodropMargaret.
“Excellentdriving,”MelvillesaidtoEliza,asshepulledthehorsestoastop.
“Thankyou,”Elizasaid,turningtofacehimproperlyforthefirsttimeinmanymiles.Melvillehadlongsinceabandonedhishatupontheseatbesidehim—therainhadbeensuchthatheadwearcouldnotoffermuchprotection—andhisdarkcurlswereslickedbackoffhisforehead.
“Youarequitesoaked,”Melvillesaid,lookingheroveraswell.
“Iknow,”Elizasaidruefully.“Iamnotsuremyhatwillrecover.”
“Ashame,”Melvillesaid.“Foritisaverycharmingensemble,though…”
Hereachedoveranddelicatelyliftedadampcurlofherhairfromwhereithadbecomeplasteredagainstherneck,andwithafewdeftmovementshadtuckeditbackintoherbraid.Itwasthesimplestoftouches,thegrazeofhishandagainstherneckoccurringonlyverybriefly,andyetdespitethis,anddespitetherainsoakinghertothebone,Elizahadtotryveryhardnottocatchentirelyuponfire.Shetrembled,whetherfromdesire,orguilt,oranxiety,shecouldnotknow.
Melvillelefthishandrestinggentlyuponherneckforamoment.Hewatchedhersteadilyand,almostinvoluntarily,shefeltherbodybegintoswaytowardhis.Itwouldbesoeasy,themostnaturalthingintheworld,toallowherselfthis
“Melville,”shesaid,verysoftly.
“YoumightcallmeMax,ifyouwish,”hesaid,justasquiet.
AndElizaclenchedhereyesshutandreinedherselfin.Shecouldnot.Shecouldnot.
“Mylady—”Melvillesaid.
“Don’t,”Elizasaid,beforehecouldcontinue.“Don’t.”
Forwhateveritwas—adeclaration,orapropositionorwhatshedidnotknow—andhowevermuchshewasdesperatetohearitwitheverymuscleinherbody,shecouldnot.Shecouldnotallowhimtospeakwhenshewaspromisedtoanother.
“ThenIshallnot,”Melvillesaidgently,takinghishandback.
“Itisjust,”Elizasaid,feelingsheowedhimsomemeasureofanexplanation,thoughhehadnotaskedforone,“itisjustthatwhenonehasnotexpectedsuchathing,andonecannot—becauseonehasalready—andonethinksofallthereasonsitisimpossible,evenifonewants…”Herwordswereasgarbledasherthoughts.“Doyouunderstandmymeaning?”
“Onedoesnot,”Melvillesaidgravely.“Onewonders,even,ifyouunderstandyourmeaning?”
Elizaletoutawaterylaugh.
“Idonotknow,”shesaid,andshesuddenlyfeltasifshemightburstintotears.“Idonotknow.”
“Thatisallright,”Melvillesaid,moregentlystill.Hepickedupherhandinhisandpressedasinglekissintoherglovedpalm,andeventhatsetElizatotremblingagain.“Ishallbidyougoodnight.”
Heclimbedoutofthecarriageand,withalasttipofhissoddenhat,disappearedintoLauraPlace.
ThatElizamadeithomewithoutcrashingowedmoretohergroom’squietreminderstowatchtheothersideoftheroadthantoherownskill.ShehandedhimthereinswhentheyreachedCamdenPlaceanddescendedfromthecarriage,resemblingnothingmorethanadrownedrat,thinkingthatitwasagoodthingMrs.WinkworthhadlongagoleftforLondon,forshemighthavesufferedanapoplexytoseeherinsuchastate.
Elizahurriedintothehouse,sighingtofeelitswarmtharoundher,andfeelingtearsbeginningtospringtohereyes.
“Margaret?”Elizacalled.“Margaret?”
Margaretappearedalmostatonce,runningdownthestairs,herhairstilldripping.
“Areyouallright?”Elizasaid.“Whateveristhematter?”
“Eliza,”Margaretsaid.“ItisSomerset.Heishere,inthedrawingroom.”25
Somerset?Here?Now?”Elizasaid.
“Yes,”Margaretsaid,inanswertoallthree.“Hearrivedthisafternoon,apparently,andinsisteduponwaitingforyourreturn.”
ElizalookedatMargaret,panicked.Shehadnotexpectedhimforaweekmore,andshehadnotatallreadiedherself.Shehadthoughtshewouldhavemoretime.
“Donotpanic,”Margaretsaidfirmly.“Heisnotanogre.”
ButElizacouldfeelherbreathcominginsharpgasps.ShecouldnotseeSomersetnow.Notwhenherthoughtsweresodisarrangedthatshecouldbelieveshehadlefthermindthere,withMelville,inthephaeton.Sheneededmoretime.Sheneededtothink.
“Whatif—whatifIseehim,andrealizeIdonotlovehimanymore?”Elizawhispered,pressingatremblinghandtoherforehead.
WhatifSomersetsawherandrealizedexactlywhatElizahaddone?
“Thenweshallthinkofawaythrough,”Margaretsaid.“Ipromise.”
Elizadithered,lookingdespairinglydownathersadlymuddiedskirts.Margaretgaveheragentlepushinthedirectionofthestairs.
“Gonow,beforeyouloseyournerve,”shesaid.AndElizawent.ShemightoncehavetriedtodelaybutMargaretwasright.Howeverawfulthismightbe,ifshedidnotgonow,shewouldnothavethecouragetodoit.Shepushedopenthedoortothedrawingroom.Hewasstandinginfrontofthefire,handsclaspedbehindhisback,andtherewasamoment,whenheturnedaroundtofaceher—backlitbytheflamesandhisfacehalfinshadow—wheretheresemblancetohisunclewassostrongthatElizaalmostgasped.Then,hereyesadjusted.Theresemblancevanished.AnditwasjustSomersetstandingthere,ahalf-smileuponhisfaceasheregardedher.
“Goodevening,mylady,”hesaid.
“Somerset,”shesaidshyly.“We—Ididnotexpectyouuntilnextweek.”
“Ithoughttosurpriseyou,”hesaid.“Butyoudonotseemverypleased.”
“Iampleased,”Elizasaid.“OfcourseIam.”
Shefound,sayingit,thatitwastrue.ForasElizastoodthere,drinkinginthesightofhim,shecouldfeelthatherloveforhimremained.Andallofasudden,whathadfeltsolarge,socomplicatedamomentbefore,wasrenderedutterlysimpleinhermind.Whateveritmeant,thatshewasabletolovetwomenatonce,itdidnotmatter.HerfeelingsforMelvillewereundeniable,butthiswasthemanwhomshehadlovedfaithfully,enduringly,foolishly,foryears,andwhohadlovedherallthattimeinreturn.
AndifherheartdidnotbeatquiteasfastasithadbeguntowithMelville,andifshedidnotblushquitesofrequently,norbreathequiteasquickly…Whatdidthatmatter?Thiswasthemanshewastomarry.
Somersetheldouthisarms,andshehalfranacrosstheroomtohim,laughinginrelief.Somersetcaughtherhandsinhis,butdidnotusethegriptobringhercloser,insteadholdingheralittleawayfromhim.
“Whatisthis?”hesaid.“Youarequitesoakedthrough.”
“Idonotcare,”shesaid,leaningherfaceuptowardhisexpectantly.
“Ido,”hesaid,pushingherback.“Youwillcatchyourdeath.Youmustrunandchange.”
“Iamnotintheleastcold,”Elizaprotested.“Iwillsoondrybythefire.”
“Iwillwaitforyouhere,”hesaid,hisvoicebrookingnoargument.Elizaraisedhereyesbrieflytoheaven,butobedientlyranfromtheroom.Hissolicitousnesswasincomparable,andthoughitwasalittleinconvenientatpresent,tobedispleasedatsuchprotectiveconcernwouldbechurlish.Inatrice,shehadreturned,dressedinthefirstgownshecouldlayherhandson,oflavendercrêpe,andhesmiledwhenshere-enteredtheroom,holdinghisownhandsoutnow.
“Yourhairisstillwet,mylove.”
“Iamnotgoingtodryitnow,”Elizasaid.“Soyoumaysaveyourselffromasking.”
Sheraisedherheadtohisagain,butagain,hedidnotofferthekissshedesired.
“Wherewereyououtinsuchweather?”heasked.
Elizahesitated.ShehadnotmentionedinanyofherlettersthedrivinglessonsshehadbeentakingwithCaroline,northecarriageshehadrecentlypurchased,wantingtosurprisehim.Inhermind,shehadimagineddrivinguptohiminherbest,mostflatteringhabitandaskinghim,suavely,ifhewouldliketocomeupwithherforafewstreets.
“WereyououtdrivingwithCaroline?”Somersetasked.“Ihearshehasbeengivingyoulessons.”
Elizafrowned.
“Whotoldyou?”sheasked.
“Mrs.Winkworth,”Somersetsaid.“ThewholefamilyattendedAnnie’scoming-outball.”
“Howinconsiderateofhertoruinmysurprise,”Elizasaidlightly,tryingtodecipherhisexpression.“IwantedyoutobeshockedandawedbyhowverydashingIhavebecome.”
“Iwascertainlyshocked,”Somersetsaid.HelookedElizainthefaceforalongmoment,thensatdownuponthesofawithasigh,pullingherdowntositnexttohim.“Ioughtnottohaveleftyouhere,unattended,”hesaid,runningahandthroughhishair.
“Unattended?”Elizasaid,notsurewhethertobemoreoffendedoramused.“Iamnotahorse,mylord.AndIhaveMargaret.”
“Youdonotknow,clearly,whatpeoplearesaying,”Somersetsaid.
“Whatpeople?”Elizasaid.“Andwhataretheysaying?”
“MysisterreportsthattheBathgossipsareallaquiverwiththenewsofLadySomersetdrivingalloverthecountryside,attendingroutsandcardpartiesandbuyinguphalfofMilsomStreet.”
Instinctively,Elizabridledatthenoteofcensureinhisvoicebeforeforcingherselftofocusonlyontheconcerninhisface.Hewasworriedabouther.
“PerhapsIhavebeenalittlehighflying,”sheadmitted.“Butyouknowhowgossipsare.AndmyfortuneisminetospendasIwish.Doyounotlikemynewcolors?”
“Ido,”Somersetsaid.“ButtherearerumorsthatyouhavehadMelvillelivinginyourpocketthesepastweeks.Whatofthem?”
Elizabitherlip.Shecouldnotlietohim.IfheaskedherwhethershehadfeelingsforMelville,shewouldnotlie.Buthehadnotasked.
“Thereisanexplanation,”shesaid.“ThecommissionIwrotetoyouof—ImustconfessthatitisMelville’s.Ihavebeenpaintinghisportrait.”
“What?”Somersetgasped.
“IhavebeenpaintingMelville’sportrait,”Elizarepeated.“Thatiswhyhehasbeensoofteninmycompany.Soyouneedn’twor—”
“Eliza!”Somersetexclaimed.“Howcouldyoucountenancesuchathingandnottellme?”
“Ididtellyou,”Elizasaiddefensively.“ItoldyouIhadreceivedacommission.Youseemedtothinkitagoodidea,then.”
“ThatiswhenIthoughtitwas—paintingsomeflowers,orsomeone’shorse!”Somersetsaid.“Ididnotthinkitwasaportrait!Ofanunmarriedman.”
Elizaflinched.Sheknewhemightnotbepleased,butneitherhadsheexpectedsuchunequivocalanger.HewaspressinguncomfortablyhardonEliza’shandsandnowdroppedthemhurriedly.
“Wewerechaperoned,”Elizasaid,weakly.Whichwastrue,atleastinthebeginning.
“Oh,byMissBalfour?”Somersetsaidderisively.“Yes,aformidableduennaindeed.”
“Iwouldaskthatyounotspeakofmycousininsuchatone,Somerset,”Elizasaid,withacoldnessshedidnotrecognizeasherown.ItwasonethingforSomersettoexpressangertowardher,butshewouldnotallowitagainstMargaret.
Somersettookadeepbreath.
“Youareright,”hesaid.“Iamsorry.Ishouldnotblameyou—eitherofyou.Itishewhoistoblame,ofcourse.”
“Melville?”Elizaasked.
“Goodnessknowswhathecanhavesaidtoyouinordertoinduceyoutoagree,”Somersetwasmuttering,“whatlieshewouldhavewoven.”
ItwassoridiculousthatElizaletoutaburstoflaughter.Somersetrearedhisheadback,offended.
“Iamsorry,”Elizasaid,stillsmiling.“Iamverysorry,butitisjustsoveryabsurd.Melvilledidnotinduceme,andhedidnotlie.Itwasmychoice,andevenifyoudonotapprove,Idonotregretit.AndIcannotseewhatissowrong.”
“Youmightfeeldifferently,”Somersetsaidponderously,“ifyouknewwhatIhaverecentlydiscovered.”
“Whatdoyoumean?”Elizaasked.
Somersetranhishandthroughhishaironcemore—itwaslookingsadlyuntidynow.
“IamnotsureifIshouldtellyou,”hesaid.
Elizafeltarushofirritation.SuchslanderousaspersionshadhauntedMelvillehisentirelifeandweretheprecisereasonhemightsoonhavetoleavethecountry.
“YouhavebeenmakingsuchdeclarationssincethedayyoumetMelville,”shesnapped,“butIamyettohearofanyproof.Ishouldhavethoughtunfoundedgossipbeneathyou,Somerset.”
“Youchastisemeforwishingtoprotectyou?”Somersetsaid,bristling.
“IdonotneedprotectionfromMelville,”Elizasaid.
Shepaused,tookabreath,andmasteredherself.Itdidnottrulymatterwhatotherpeopleweresaying,whatthegossipwas.Itmatteredonlywhattheythemselvesthought,whattheyfelt.
“Letusnotfalloutwithoneanother,”shesaidgently,“fordoesanyofitmatter,now?Ihavebegunhalf-mourning.Youhavereturned.Wecanbecomeengaged,atlast.”
Somersetvisiblysoftened.
“Thatistrue,”hesaid.“Finally.”
Thestrangetensionthathadlainintheairsincehehadarrivedmelted.Somersetpulledgentlyuponherhandsandsheswayedtowardhimuntiltheirmouths,atlast,met—andonceagainitwassofamiliar,sonatural,thatElizacouldhardlybelievetheyhadnotbeendoingsoallalong.Itwassometimebeforetheyseparated,butwhentheyfinallydid,Elizamovedtolayherheaduponhisshoulder,andsighedcontentedly.Thefirewasverywarm,andhisshoulderwasverycomfortable,andshecouldsuddenlyimaginethemdoingjustthisathousandtimesmore,intheyearstocome.
“Whenshallwemarry?”sheasked.“Soon,Ihope.Beforemymothergetswindofit.”
ShefeltSomerset’sshouldertenseunderneathherandraisedherheadtoregardhim.
“Youneedn’tworry,”shesaid.“Shehasnopowertocompelmethistime.”
“Itisn’tthat,”Somersetsaid.“Ihavebeenthinkingagreatdealofhowweshallmanageourengagement.”
“Haveyou?”Elizaasked,smiling.
“AndIthinkitwouldbebestifyoureturnedtoBalfour,”hefinished.
Elizalaughed,thinkinghewasmakingajoke.Hedidnotlaughwithher.
“Eliza,ourengagementwillcauseafuror,”hesaid.“Youknowitwill.Wecannotgetaroundthatfact.”
“No,”Elizaagreed.“ButwhyshouldthatmeanIneedreturntoBalfour?”
“Becausethelifeyouhavebeenlivingthesepastweeks,”Somersetsaidevenly,“isalreadycausingtalk.Andso,itwouldbehooveustoremoveyoufromthepubliceyealittle,beforewemakeanyannouncement.”
“YoumakeitsoundasifIhavebeencavortingaroundtowninmypetticoats,”Elizasaid.“Iassureyou,Iwouldrecollecthavingdoneso.”
“Bereasonable,Eliza,”Somersetsaid.“Iamtryingtoprotectyou.”
“IcannotreturntoBalfour,”Elizasaid.
“Whatisamonthortwoofquietude—ifinexchangewehavealifetimeofhappiness?”Somersetsaid.“Thenwewillannounceourengagementoverthesummer,andintheautumnwecanmarryquietly.”
“Intheautumn?”Elizarepeated.ItwasonlyApril.
“Itiswhenyourmourningwillbefinallycomplete,initsentirety,”Somersetsaid.“Whendidyouthinkwewouldmarry?”
Shecertainlyhadnotthoughthewouldinsistuponsuchtraditionalpropriety.Why,LadyDormerhadmarriedontheyearmarkafterherhusband’sdeath—andtrue,itwasstillconsideredsomethingofajokeinhighsociety,but…
“Whatif…”Sheclutchedhishands.“Oliver,whatifwejustmarried,now?Itisgoingtoraiseeyebrowsnomatterhowlongwewait—whatifwemarriedandboretheconsequencesnow.Wewouldatleastbetogether.”
Somersetwasshakinghishead.
“YouknowIcannot,”hesaid.“Icannotriskdoingsuchharmtomyfamily.”
Elizastaredathim.Adecadelateranditseemedtheywerehavingthesameargument.Theymightaswellbereadingfromthesamescript,onlytheyhadswappedparts,forshewasurginghimtobraveryandhespeakingoffamilialduty.
“Woulditmatter?”sheasked.“Wouldtheconsequencestrulybesobad?Theycannotforbidit,theycannotkeepusapartanymore,theydonothavethepowertodo…anything,really.”
“Itwouldnotbeproper,”Somersetsaid.
“Hangpropriety!”Elizacried.“IhavelivedmylifebytherulesofproprietyandIdonotwishtoanylonger.”
“Donottalkinthatway!”hesnapped.“Itdoesnotbecomeyou.Youknowwecannot‘hangpropriety.’Ourliveswouldbeforeverdoggedbyit.”
“IcannotreturntoBalfour,”Elizasaid,pullinginsistentlyuponthehandsstillholdinghersforemphasis.Shecouldabidewaitinguntilautumn,shecouldabidedelayingherhappyendingmoremonthsonstill,buttoexchangeherlifehereforBalfour?No,thatshecouldnotdo.
“Youcan,”hesaid,eyesfixedonhersasifintensityalonewouldconvinceher.“Youmust.Youwilllivequietlyforafewmonths,whilemysisterensuresagoodmatchforAnnie,andthenwewillmarrywithoutfussandretreattoHarefield.Aslongaswedonotflauntourselves,ormixmuchinsociety,theupsetwillsubsideandourfamilieswillbesafe.”
“AndnowIamtoliveinisolationafterwearemarried,too?”Elizasaid,appalled.
Shetookherhandsfromhis.
“Bereasonable,Eliza,”Somersetsaid,growingirritablenow.
“Iambeingreasonable,”Elizainsisted.“ItisjustallsodifferenttowhatIhadimagined.Ithoughtwewouldmarrynextmonth,thatwemighthoneymoonabroad,spendthenextSeasoninLondon,takinginthegalleriesandmuseumsandseeingourfriends…”
“ButIdespisethecity,”Somersetsaid,frowning.“WhyonearthwouldwechoosetospendtimeinLondonwhenwedonothaveto?Wecanattendlocalassembliesifwewish—whatdoesLondonhave,thatHarefieldcannotprovide?”
“Athousandthings!”Elizasaidinstantly.“Friends.Diversions.Dances.Art.Youmaypickanyoneofthem!”
Somersetletoutaquiet,disbelievinglaugh.
“Youarenotserious?”hesaid.“Iknowyouliketodraw,Eliza,butitcannotsurelyserveasareasontokeepusapart.Thisistheonlywaywecanbetogether.Youmustseethat.”
“Idonotjustliketodraw,”Elizasnapped,“itispartofme.Animportantpart.”
“Itdidnotusedtobe.”
“Ifyoutrulythinkthat,thenyouwerenotlistening.”
Somersetscrubbedahandacrosshisface.
“Bereasonable,”hesaid,again.
“Youarenottryingtofindanothersolution!”
“Youneverusedtobethisstubborn,”Somersetsaid.
“No,youusedtothinkmespiritless,”Elizasaid.“WhichwouldyoupreferIbe?Icannotdoboth.”
“Youarebeingimpossible.”
“Thesetermsareimpossible,”Elizasaid.
“Iamnottryingtomakeyouunhappy!”Somersetsaid.“Sacrificesmustbemade.”
“Butwhydoesitalwayshavetobemewhosacrifices?”Elizasaid,castingherhandsupintotheair.“Ihavesacrificedenough,Oliver,andIcannotsacrificeanymore.”
“Thisistheonlyway,”Somersetsaid,veryemphatically,“forustobetogether.Youmustseethat.”
Elizastaredathimforalongmoment.
“Perhapsyouareright,”shesaid,atlast.“Perhapsitistheonlyway.ItisjustthatIcannotdoit.”
“Itisonlysixmonths,”Somersetsaid.
“Itisonlysixmonths—andbeforethatitwastenyears,”Elizasaid.“Andbeforethat,always.Ihavehadenoughofwaitingformylifetobegin.”
“Whatareyousaying?”Somersetsaid,facepaling.“Doyou…Doyounolongerwishtomarryme?”
Hisvoicebrokeinthemiddleofthequestion.
“Iwouldmarryyouinaninstant,”shesaidhoarsely.“Butnotlikethis—Icannotgoback.”
“Youwouldbemywife,”Somersetsaid.“Wouldthatnotbeworthit?Afteralltheyearswehavebothwaited?”
Onlyafewmonthsago,Elizawouldhavesaidyesinaheartbeat.Andshewantedtobeabletosayyes,now.Butshedidnotwanttomakeherselfsmallagain,inanyway—nothercharacter,notherdesires,notherlife.Notevenforhim.
Somersetseemedtoreadtheanswerinhersilence.Hestoodandmovedawayfromher,facingthefire,headinhands.
“Icannotbelieveyoumeantobreakmyheartforasecondtime,”hesaideventually,turningbacktoher,shakinghisheadbitterly.“Icannotbelieveyoumeantodoitagain.”
Elizawantedtocurluponthesofa,topressherheadagainstherkneesandcrumble—butshestoodandlookedSomersetintheeyeasdirectlyasshecould.
“Backthen,Icouldnotsayyesformyfamily’ssake,”Elizasaid,asclearlyasshecould.Sheneededhimtounderstand.“Now,itisformyown.”
Tosayitfeltasifshewerewrenchingsomeessentialpiecedirectlyoutofherheart,butElizagrittedherteethagainstthepain.Itwasthetruth.
“AndIsupposethishasnothingtodowithMelville?”Somersetaskedsavagely.
Elizastaredathim.
“Sixweeksago,youwerereadytosayyestome;wasithimwhochangedyourmind?”Somersetdemanded.“Doyoulovehim?”
“Ididnotchangemymindbecauseofhim,”Elizasaidquietly.“Youhavetobelieveme.”
Somersetletoutaderisivelaugh.Itwasnotapleasantsound.
“Icannotbelievehehashadyousofooled,”hesaid.“Ifyouonlyknew…”
“Iknoweverything,”Elizasaid.“Andheisnotthevillainyoumakehimouttobe.”
Alightknockatthedoorinterruptedthem.
“Mylady,”Perkinssaid,eyesmovingbetweenElizaandSomerset.“Youhaveavisitordownstairs.ShallItellthemyouareotherwiseengaged?”
“Atthishour?”Somersetsaidcrossly.“Whoonearth…?”
“LordMelville,sir,”Perkinssaid.
“Ohlord,”Elizabreathed.Theonlypossiblethingthatcouldmakesuchasituationworse.
“Itneededonlythat,”Somersetsnarled.
“Tellhimtogoaway,Perkins,”Elizasaid,quickly.“Tellhimnow.”
“Ohdear,”camethesoundofMelville’svoice,asheappearedbesidePerkinsinthedoorway.Hehadnotyetchangedoutofhisdamp,mud-soddenclothes.“AfraidItooktheliberty—raisedvoices,yousee.”
“Takinglibertiesdoesseemtocomenaturallytoyou,Melville,”Somersetsaid
“Goodevening,Somerset,”Melvillesaid,asifSomerset’ssalutationhadbeenanormalone.“IthoughtIheardyourdulcettones.Iseverythingwell,LadySomerset?”
“Oheverythingisquitewell,Melville,”Somersetsaidharshly.
Melvilledidnotappeartohearhim,insteadsteadilyregardingEliza,whobecamehorriblyawareofherowntear-filledeyesandtherednessofherface.SheopenedhermouthtoreassureMelville,tolie,butfoundshecouldnot.
“Perhapsyoucouldcallatadifferenttime,”Somersetsaid,inavoicethatwouldhavebeenpolitehaditnotbeensoveryloud.“LadySomersetandIwerejustinthemidstofaratherpersonaldiscussion.”
“PerhapsitisoneIoughtjoin,”Melvillesaid,settinghisjaw.“Couldwehavesometea,Perkins?Calmthenerves.”
“Yes,mylord,”Perkinssaid,withdrawingslowly.Hedidnotclosethedoorafterhimself.
“Melville,youappearnottohaveunderstoodme.Iwaspolitelyrequestingyouleave,”Somersetsaid.
“Yes,Iunderstand,”Melvillesaid.“Yousee,Iwaspolitelyrefusing.IshallremainuntilLadySomersetrequestsIdootherwise.”
Somersetlaughedagain.
“Youseektoprotecther?You?”Somersetsaid.
“Somerset!”Elizaprotested.“Melvilledoesnotdeservesuchrudeness.”
“Youmightthinkdifferently,ifyouknewwhatIhadjustdiscoveredaboutMelville,”Somersetsaid.Then,lookingdirectlyatMelville:“Well?”
“Whatdoyouwant,Somerset?”Melvilledemanded,hisvoicerisingalittlefromitsamusedcalm.
“DoyoupretendnottoknowtowhatIamreferring?”
“I’msureIcouldguess,”Melvillesaid,“ifyouwishtoquizmeagain.”
“Jokeaway,mylord,”Somersetsaid.“Idonotthinkyouwillfindhersuchaneasyaudienceoncesheknows.”
Melville’smouthsnappedshut.Foronce,hedidnothaveawittyretorttooffer.
“Iwishyouwouldceasespeakinginsuchriddles!”Elizasaidloudly.“Willyoujusttellmewhatyouwishtosay?”
“Wouldyouliketo,orshallI?”Somersetasked,withhorriblepoliteness.
“Mylady,”Melvillesaid,takingasteptowardElizaandholdinghishandsoutentreatingly,“Idohavesomethingtotellyou—somethingIoughttohavetoldyoulongago—butyoumustknow,itdoesnottrulychangeanythingbetweenus.Istillfeel—”
HesentafoullooktowardSomerset,asifsuddenlyfurioustohavehimintheroomwiththem.
“Icameheretonightto—totellyouhowIfelt,andmakeacleanbreastofeverything,”hesaid,andtherewasastrangenoteofurgencyinhisvoice.“Iswearthatwasmyintention.”
“Whatonearthisgoingon?”Elizasaidslowly.ShehadassumedthatSomersetmeanttoinformElizaofLadyPaulet,butthenMelville—havingalreadyreferencedtheaffair—wouldsurelynotappearsorattled.Itwasthemostperturbedshehadeverseenhim.
“Dohurryup,Melville,”Somersetsaidimpatiently.
Melvilletookinabreath,thenswallowed—apparently,fortheveryfirsttimeinhislife,utterlylostforwords.
“Oh,enoughofthis,”Somersetsaidimpatiently.“Eliza,MelvillewassenttoBathbymysister.Hewasemployedbyhertoembroilyouinascandal.Toruinyou.”26
WhenElizawasnineyearsofage,hergrandfatherhaddemonstratedtohertheproperwaytocutaquill,andasshehadtriedtocopyhispracticedmovements,theknifehadslipped,slicingheracrossthepalm.Ithadbeenadeepwound,anangryslashofredmorevividthananypigmentshehadeverseen,butthoughElizahadinstantlyunderstoodwhathadoccurred,andinstantlyperceivedshewasabouttofeelagreatdealofpain,ithadtakentenfullbeatsofherheartbeforethehurtactuallycame.
Itwasthesamenow,inthewakeofSomerset’sdeclaration.
Thisisgoingtohurt,Elizathoughtvaguely,thoughinthatmoment,shecouldfeelonlyshock.
“Excuseme?”shesaid,verypolitely.
“Eliza,”Melvillesaid,“thatisnotpreciselytrue—”
“SheisstillLadySomersettoyou,Melville,”Somersetsnapped.
“Excuseme?”Elizasaidagain,ofthemboth.
“WhenLordandLadySelwyncametoBathinFebruary,”Somersetsaid,stillglaringatMelvilleratherthanlookingather,“theydevisedanawfulplan,toinciteyouintoimproprietygreatenoughthatIwouldbeforcedtoremoveyourfortune.Theythoughtitlikelyyouwouldbesusceptibletoanunpropitiousflirtation,thatIwouldreactstronglygivenourhistory,andthatMelvillewasjustdesperateenoughtohelpthem.”
Elizafeltherselfswayslightly.ShelookedovertoMelville.
“Isthattrue?”sheasked.“You…volunteeredyourservices?”
Melvilleshookhisheadfervently.
“No,”hesaid.“Itwasnot—notlikethat.Theyvisitedmetodiscusspatronage,andwe…brokeredadeal,yes,butIdidnotknowaboutthemoralityclause,Iswearit.AlltheytoldmewasthatIshoulddrawyouraffectionsawayfromSomerset,tocourtyoupublicly—andIdidnotthinktwice,becausetrulyitwasnottheleastburdensome.Iwouldhavedoneitanyway.”
“Whenwasthis?”Elizasaid.Shewasnotsurewhyitmattered,whysuchdetailhadanyrelevance,onlythatsheneededtoknow.“Whendidtheyvisityou?”
“Theeveningofyourdinnerparty,”Melvillesaid,reluctantly.“Theysentanotearoundafterward—itwasstillearly.ImetSelwynforadrink.”
“YouwereinsuchhighspiritsthatSunday,”Elizaremembered,withanawful,sinkingfeelinginherchest.“And—andthatwaswhenyoubeganwritingagain.So…itwasnotmyinfluencethatcausedsuchachange.Itwastheirs.”
“Canitnotbeboth?”Melvillesaid,liftinghisarmsalittleasifhewishedtotouchher—thendroppingthem.
“Everythingfromthatmomentonwasadeception,”Elizasaidwonderingly.
“No,no,Iswear—mymotivesmayhavebeencomplexatfirst,buteverythingIsaid,everythingwespokeof,itwasbecauseIwantedto.Thatwasalwaysme,allalong.”
“Icouldnotbelieveit,either,mylady,”Somersetsaid,contemptinhiseyesashelookedatMelville.“Untilmysistershowedmethelettersexchangedbetweenthem,Ididnoteventhinkhecouldstooptosuchlowbehavior.”
Somersethadseenproofthen.ItwasnotjustLadySelwyn’swordforit.Therehadbeenproof.
MelvillewasstillstaringatEliza.
“Itwasalwaysme,”hewhisperedagain.
“Ishouldhaveknownbetterthantoexpectmorefromamanwhohasnevercompletedanhonestdayofworkinhislife,”Somersetwenton.
“DearGod,man,youservedinthenavy—weknow,”Melvillesaid,hissilencebreakingashelookedangrilyovertoSomerset.“Ifyoushouldlikeapatontheback,youmaysimplyask,thereisnoneedtocontinuallyremindeveryone!”
Somersetsteppedforward,fistsclenched.Melvilledidnotmoveaway.
“Oh,areyougoingtohitme?”hesaid.“Andwhatdoyouimaginethatwillachieve?”
“Iimagineitwouldmakemefeelbetter,”Somersetsaidthroughgrittedteeth.
Theywerestandingalmosteyetoeye,now,chesttochest.Elizawatchedthemasifshewasstandingaverygreatdistanceaway.Onceagain,itwasasifshewerenothere.
“Allthistime,”Elizaheardherselfsaying.“Allthistime,youhavebeenworkingfortheSelwyns?”
MelvilleblinkedawayfromthestarehewasholdingwithSomerset.
“No!”heexclaimed.Hemadeasiftomovetowardher,butSomerset’shandbarredhisway.Hebatteditasidebutstayedwherehewas.“No.Iendedtheagreementassoonasyoutoldmeaboutthemoralityclause.”
HelookedbacktoSomerset.
“LadySelwynwillhavetoldyouthat,willshenot?”hesaid.“ThatIendedtheagreement?”
“Thatisnotwhatshesaid,”Somersetsaid.
“Liar,”Melvillesaid,shakinghishead.“Youandher,both.”
“Whoelseknew?”Elizaasked.“Caroline?”
Sheimaginedthepairofthem,cloisteredtogetherandsniggering.
“No,”Melvillesaid.“Carolinedoesnotknow.”
“Andisthatwhyyouweresoeagerformetopaintyourportrait?”
“ThefirsttimeIasked,”Melvillesaid,“itwasbeforetheschemehadeverbeenmentioned.”
“Butafter…”
Melvillehesitated,andindoingsodashedanuglyblacklinethroughallofEliza’shalcyonmemoriesofhisregard,hisrespect,eachoftheportraitsittingsnowtaintedbeyondrepairbythishorriblenewperspective.Shefelt,inthatmoment,assmallasshehadeverdone.Shehadhaditallwrongagain.Youfoolishgirl,sheheardtheoldearlwhisperinhermind.Youfoolishgirl.
“Everytimeyouofferedyourescort,”Elizasaidwithdawninghorror.“Everytimeyoucomplimented,orflattered,ordaredmeintobehavingcarelessly…”
“Itsoundssomuchworsethanitwas,”Melvilleentreated.“Mymotiveswerenotsoreprehensible:Iwantedtoknowyou,tospendtimewithyou,Itrulydid.”
Elizawasshakingherheadasiftoclearherearsofwater.Hermindwasrunningthrougheverysingleinteractionthattheyhadshared:theirfriendship,theirflirtation,hisencouragement,timeandtimeagain,toflouttheconstraintsofhermourning.Theclueshadbeentherethewholetime.Noneofithadbeenreal
“WhatafoolIhavebeen,”shewhispered.“Younevercaredforme.”
Thepaincamenow.Throbbingthroughherintimewithherheart,andwithitcameangerhotterthananyshehadeverknown.
“Ido,”Melvillesaiddesperately.“Itwasjustthat—”
“AssoonasIheardthenews,”SomersetinterruptedMelville,“IknewIhadtotellyou.ThatiswhyIreturnedearly.”
“Oh,howdareyou,”Elizabegan.Somersetnoddedhisheadgrimly,lookingtoMelville.“No,howdareyou!”ShejabbedafingeratSomerset.“Howdareyousithereandlecturemeonpropriety,whenitisyoursisterthathasbeenbehavingsowickedly.Howdareyou!IfIweretotellpeople,whattheyhavebeenplanning,itisnotIwhowouldbecastigated!”
“Youcannottellanyone!”Somersetsaidatonce.“Eliza,youcannot,thedishonor—”
“OhIcould,”Elizathreatened.“Anditwouldbenolessthanyoualldeserved.”
“Iamnotthevillainhere!”Somersetsaid.“Letusrememberitishewho—”
“Icarenot,”Elizasaid,stampingherfootinherrage.“Youhavebothmadeafoolofme!”
Witheverywordshespoke,hervolumegrewlouder.
“Keepyourvoicedown,Eliza,”Somersetsnapped.“Theservants—”
“Shehasarighttoshout,Somerset,youpigeon,”Melvillesaidangrily.
“Getout!Bothofyou!”Elizacried.
SomersetandMelvillebothstaredather,unmoving.
“Oh,justgetout,”shesaid,voicesuddenlysmallandcracking.“Icannotbeartolookatyouanylonger.”
Thetinkleofcrockeryhadthemalllookingtothedoor,wherePerkinswasstanding.
“Gentlemen,”hesaid,withmoreauthoritythanElizawouldhavebelievedpossibleinamanbearingateatray,“mayIescortyoutothedoor?”
“Thatwon’tbenecessary,Perkins,”Somersetsaid.Hestartedtowardthehallway.
“IfIhearevenawhisperofthatmoralityclausebeingusedagainstme,”Elizasaidtohisback,hervoicecontainingavenomitneverhadbefore,“IshalltelleveryonewhattheSelwynsplannedtodo.IpromiseyouIshall.”
Somersetturnedtolookatherforamoment.Therewasnowarmthintheireyesastheystaredeachotherdown.Finally,henodded,andlefttheroom.
“Mylord,”Perkinssaidsternly.Melvillehadnotmoved.Hewasstillstandingthere,staringatElizaasifsheheldthewholeworldinherhands.
“Ioughtnevertohaveagreedtoit,”hesaid.“Buttheyliedtome,d-didnottellme—”
Hewasstammering.Elizahadneverseenhimsodiscomposed.
“Youheardallmyconfidences,”Elizasaid.“Youencouragedmetounburdenmyself.Youflatteredmeandflirtedwithmeandfedmenonsenseaboutmyworth—allsothatImighthangmyselfouttodry.”
Melvillepressedahandtohisforehead.
“Iamsorry,”hebreathed.“Itwasnevermyintent—itwasnotnonsense,youhavetobelieveme!”
“Idon’tbelieveyou,”Elizasaid,shakingherheadslowly.
Melvillesqueezedhiseyesmomentarilyshutasiftoprotecthimself.
“Idon’tknowhowIcan…fixthis,”hesaid.“Icamehereto…”
“Pleasejustgo,”Elizawhispered.
Melvillelookedather.
“Iloveyou,”hesaid.
ItwasthekillingblowforEliza.Tearsbegantostreamdownherfaceinearnest,andshegrippedherelbowsinherhandsasiftoletgowouldbetocrumbleintonothingness.
“Idon’tbelieveyou,”shesaid,herchinwobbling.
Melvillenoddedsilently,lookinguptotheceilingasifhe,too,werefightingtears.
Andhe,too,walkedaway.27
ElizadidnotleaveCamdenPlaceforaweek.ToleavewouldrequireassumingasociallyacceptableveneerandEliza…Elizahadbeencutwideopen.Itwasnotawoundshecouldhideforthesakeofsmalltalk.AndsoCamdenPlacebecameherharbor,asithadbeensincetheverymomentoftheirarrival,andwithinitswalls,Elizacrumbledasshehadneverdonebefore.
ThelossofbothMelvilleandSomersetinonenight,inonefellswoop,feltunfathomable,andatfirstElizacouldnotparsewhichpainbelongedtowhichloss.Sheweptforthelossofbothofthem,forthelifeshehadthoughtshewouldhavewithSomerset,forthemonthsofjoyshehadthoughtwasherswithMelville,fortheloveshehadgivenupandforthelovethathadnevertrulybeenrealinthefirstplace.
“Itwasallalie,Margaret,”Elizawhisperedtohercousin,onthatfirstnight.“Itwasallalie.”
TheywerelyinginEliza’sbedandMargaretwasstrokingherhair.ShehadnotaskedElizaifshe’dwantedcompany—indeed,sincethemomentshehadfoundher,crumpledonthedrawing-roomfloor,shehadnotleftherside.
“Iamsosorry,”Margaretsaid,wipingthetearsgentlyfromEliza’scheekwithherthumb.“Iamsosorry,mydarling.”
ElizahungontoMargaret’shandasshefellasleep,inthevainhopeitmightanchorher,andwhenshewokethenextmorning—soearlytheskyoutsidewasonlyjustlight—theirfingerswerestillwoundtogether.Elizastaredvacantlyupattheceilingasdawnbroke,notmovingasinglemuscleinherwholebody.
Whowasshenow,Elizawondered,ifthepersonshehadbecomewasbuiltuponfalsities?Whatdiditmakeher?Notwantingtomakeherselfsmall,forSomerset,seemedfaintlyridiculous,forshewassmallernowthanshehadeverbeen.SmallerthanthemousyMissBalfourhehadfalleninlovewith,smallereventhanthefeeblecountessshehadusedtobebeforeMelvillehaddustedheroffandmadeherfeelshinyagain.
Shewasnotanartist,really,forhowcouldsheknow,now,ifshehadanytalentatall?PerhapsshewasasbumptiousasMr.Berwick,blunderingaboutwithnosensethatshewasbeinglaughedatbehindherback.Ifshehadeverthoughtherselfdesirable,forhavingtwogentlemenfightingoverher,thenwhatwasshenowthatshehadneither?
TheceilinghadnoanswersforEliza,butstillshecontinuedtoregardit.
“Shallwegodowntobreakfast?”Margaretwhisperedwhenshewoke—seconds,minutesorperhapshourslater,Elizadidnotknow.
“Nothankyou,”Elizasaidpolitely.Shewouldstayhereinbedalittlelonger,shethought.Perhapsitmightbeherhomeforever.
Theceilingturnedyellow,pink,purpleandbluewiththelightasthedaypassed,Margaretreturningatintervalswithteaorlemoncakesoramagazineshemightenjoy—andElizadidherbesttosip,nibbleandleafobediently,foritwasnotMargaret’sfaultthatthingshadturnedoutsodreadfully,andreally,sheoughtnotbeforcedtocaretakeinsuchawayonherremainingdaysoffreedom.ButneitherwasElizacapableoflookingafterherself—orrather,sheprobablywascapable,itwasjustthatshedidnotcare,anymore.Shesimplycouldnotfathomfeelinganythingbuthurteveragainandtherewas,asyet,nopartofherthatfeltreadytotry.
IttooktwomoredaysforMargarettobegintolosehersoftly-softlyapproachtowardEliza’sdepression,andonthefourthday,Elizafoundherselfpositivelydraggedfrombed,stuffedintoaloosegownandchivvieddowntothedrawingroom.
“ImighthaveaneasiertimewithLavinia’sbaby!”Margaretremarkedtartly,tryingtomakeElizasmile,butElizacouldonlylookbalefullyabouther.
BothMelvilleandSomersethadbeeninthisroom,frequentlyandrecently.TherewasnotadirectionElizacouldgazeinthatdidnotremindherofoneofthem,andshefeltahotrushofragethattheyhadmanagedtotaintthesanctuarysheandMargarethadbuiltforthemselveshere.Hurt,atlonglast,gaveway—verybriefly—tofury.Elizalastedonlyanhourdownstairsthatdaybeforeshewasovercomebyfatigueandhadtoretreat,oncemore,toherbedchamber,wheresheorderedtheshutterstobeclosedandthefiredoused,sothatshemightbeleftinthedarktotrytofindthesleepthatwaseludingher.
Bythefifthday,Elizawasabletoremaindownstairsforseveralhours—andthekernelofprideshefeltattheachievementwasmorbidlyabsurd.Sorrowhadmadehertheinvalidshehadoncepretendedtobe—indeed,neverhadtherebeenatimewhenElizahadfeltmorelikewearingblackandtakingtheCure,thannow.Eitheroneoftheseheartbreakswouldhavefelledher.Two—both—seemedfranklyexcessive.
Thedoornudgedopen,andPerkinscamein,bearingatray.
“Perhapswemighthavethefirelit,Perkins,”Margaretsaid.
“IshallsendPollyuppresently,”henodded.Then,afterabriefpause,headded,“Thereisavisitordownstairs.”
“IfitisLordMelville,”Elizasaid,“tellhimtogo.”
MelvillehadcalledonCamdenPlaceeverydaythatweek,andElizahadrefusedtoseehimuponeverysingleinstance.
“ItisnotLordMelville,mylady,butLadyCaroline,”Perkinssaidcalmly.
Eliza’srefusalwasonthetipofhertongue,butMargaret—seatedacrossfromher—wasnotabletohidetheyearninginhereyes.Elizatookinaraggedbreath.
“Iwillnotstay,”shesaid.“Butshowherup,Perkins.”
“Areyousure?”Margaretbegan.
“Yes,”Elizasaid,thoughshecouldnottellifitwastrue.
ShedidnotevenbotherpattingherhairintoplaceandwhenCarolineappearedinthedoorway,lookingpredictablystunninginagownofprimrose-coloredsarsenet,trimmedentirelyaroundthebosomwithaquillingofblondlace,shefeltarushofpettyirritationtowardher.
“Goodmorning,Eliza,Margaret,”shesaidcrisply.“Whatafinemessmybrotherhasmade.”
Therewastobenodancingaroundthesubject,then.
“Iimagineyouhavealotofquestions,”Carolinesaid,regardingElizadirectly.
“No,”Elizasaid.“No,Idon’t,actually.”
Ifshehadwantedmoreofanexplanation,shewouldhaveacceptedMelville’svisit.Shedidnot.Forwhatcouldhesaythatwouldchangethefactsastheystood?AndwhatcouldCarolinepossiblytellherthatmightmakeElizafeelbetter?Nothing.Elizastood.ShefoundshecouldnotlookatCarolineanylonger.Blamelessthoughshemightbe,shewasstilltoomuchofareminderofMelvilletobear.
“IamafraidIcannotstay,LadyCaroline—doyoumindifIleaveyouwithMargaret?”
“Ofcourse,”Carolinesaid.“But—wait.”
ShepulledaletterfromherreticuleandofferedittoEliza.Elizadidnottakeit.
“Whatisit?”sheaskedguardedly.
“ItisregardingtheSummerExhibition,”Carolinesaid.“Yourportraithasbeenaccepted.Congratulations.”
Elizastaredatthebillet.Itwassoodd.Notaweekagosuchnewswouldhavethrilledher.Shewouldhavebeendelightedbeyondbelief.Melvillewouldhavebeendelighted,too—wouldhavedeclaredhehadknown,allalong,thatshecoulddoitandherewastheproof.Wouldhehavebeenlying?WouldhisdeceptionhaveextendedeventosharinginEliza’scelebration?
Eliza’sstarefinallyleftthebilletinCaroline’shands.Twentyyearsofdesiringsuchanaccoladeandnow…Nowitwasjustonemorethingthathadbeensappedofjoy.Elizaforcedherlegstomoveandmadeforthedoorwithoutsayinganythingfurther.Sheshutitfirmlybehindher,butasshedidso,hervisiondarkenedjustslightlyattheedges—ithadbeensomanydayssinceshehadexertedherself,andshehadstoodupfartooquickly.Reachingforthewall,shesteadiedherselfagainstitforamoment,breathingdeeply.
“Didyouknow?”ElizaheardMargaretsay,throughthedoor.
“OfcourseIdidnot!”Carolinesaid.“Iwouldneverhaveagreedtoit,whichisexactlywhyIshouldimagineMelvillekeptitasecret.Ifshewouldjustlethimexplain…”
“Whatistheretoexplain?”Margaretsaid.“Weknoweverything.MelvillewashavinganaffairwithLadyPaulet,PauletdiscovereditandMelvillewasindireenoughfinancialstraitstorequireanewpatron.ItmayexplainMelville’smotive,butitdoesnotexcusehisactions.”
Herindignantvoicewasalittlemuffledbythecloseddoor,butstillaudibletoElizafromwhereshewasleaning.Visionreturning,Elizastraightened,abouttomakeherwayupstairsuntil…
“ItwasnotMelvillewhohadtheaffairwithLadyPaulet,”Carolinesaidquietly.“ItwasI.”
Oh.Oh.
“Whythendoeseveryonethink…?”Margaretsaid.
“Wecouldnotexactlytellthetruth,couldwe?”Carolinesnapped,asifMargaretwereparticularlystupid.“ItseemedbettertoletPauletassumeMelvillehadbeenherlover,butwehadnotpredictedhisrage.Itwouldtakealargeinvestmentforanypublishertostanduptohim.Hence,theSelwyns’arrange—”
“Doyoustillloveher?”Margaretinterrupted.“LadyPaulet?”
ThiswasnotforElizatohear.Shemovedquietlyawayfromthedoor,towardthestairs,andwasjustabouttoclimbthemwhenshesawoneofthehousemaids,Polly,ascendingfromtheotherdirection,headingtowardthedrawingroom.
“Polly,”Elizawhispered.“Whatareyou…?”
“PerkinssaidIamtolightthefire,milady,”Pollysaid,alittlenonplussedtofindhermistresslingeringuponthestairsinsuchaway.
“Therewasatime,”cameCaroline’svoicethroughthedoor,andthoughshehadloweredhervoiceevenfurther,herwordswerestillfaintlyperceptible.
“Wedonotrequireit,”Elizahissed.“Notnow.”
Obediently,Pollyturnedbackaround.Elizalookedwildlyupanddownthestairs,withmoreenergythanshehadfeltindays.Howlikelywasitthatanothermemberofthehouseholdmightbesenttothedrawingroom—todeliverrefreshmentsorsomeothererrand?LadyCarolineandMargaret’svoiceswerequietenoughtonotbeoverheardunlessonewashoveringdirectlyoutside,andElizatrustedherservantstobeaboveeavesdropping,butwasitenoughtorisksuchadiscovery?
No.Elizaplantedherselfbeforethedoor,standingguard.
“Therewasatime,”LadyCarolinewasbeginningagain.Elizatriednottolisten,but…“WhenIthoughtIwouldloveherfortherestofmylife.ButthatwasbeforeImetyou.”
ElizaheardMargaretgivealittlesobandherheartsqueezedwithbittersweetness.
“Youaswell?”Margaretwhispered.Hervoicewasshaking.
“Ofcoursemeaswell,”Carolinesaid,inanimpatientwaythatwassoquintessentiallyherthatElizasmiled,despiteherself.“Ihavebeenwaiting—”
ButElizawouldneverknowforwhatCarolinehadbeenwaiting—forreasonsElizacouldnothear,thoughshecouldwellguessat,Caroline’swordsbrokeoffabruptlyinthemiddleofhersentence.Attheverybottomofthestairs,StavesthefootmancrossedthehallwayandjustasElizawasabouttowavehimaway,heredirectedtowardthekitchen.
Thequietfromwithintheparlorlingeredforone,two,threemorebeatsthen,“IleaveforParisnextweek,”Carolinesaidsoftly.
“Paris?”Margaretsaid.
“Ihavefinishedmynovel,”Carolinesaid.“Iamhopefulofpublishingthisyear.Pariswasalwaysmyplan.”
“Yes…ofcourse,”Margaretsaid,thoughshesoundedasifthebreathhadbeenknockedoutofher.“Perhapswhenyoureturn…”
“Comewithme,”Carolinesaidurgently.“YoucanpracticeyourFrench,properly,andseeParis,andifwegetboredweshallsimplygotoBrusselsorFrankfurtorwherever.”
Elizapressedherhandtohermouth,willingMargaretsilently—butaspowerfullyasshecould—tosayyes.ToseizesuchafutureasElizahadnotbeenableto
“Icannot,”Margaretsaid.“Myfamily…”
“Youwouldgiveupachanceathappiness,withme,forafamilyyoucannotstand?”Carolinedemandedincredulously.
Elizaprivatelyagreed.
“Theywouldneverforgiveme,”Margaretsaid.“AndIwouldhavenothingtofallbackonifyouandI—”
“YouwouldhaveEliza,wouldyounot?”
Yes,Elizathoughtfiercely,shewould
“Itisnotjustthat.Howwouldit—howwouldwe…”
Shesoundedveryyoung,allofasudden,asshestammered.
Carolinesighed,andhervoicegentled.“Toourfriends—tothosewetrust—wemighttellthetruth.Andtotherest,wewouldjustbevery,verygoodfriends.”
“Andwewouldbeaccepted,bysociety?”
“Wewouldbediscreet,ofcourse,butParisismoreliberalthanLondon.”
“Discreetenoughtoavoidrumors?”Margaretsaid.“Tokeepthesecretfromeventheservants?”
“Itrustmyhouseholdwholeheartedly,”Carolinesaid,afaintnoteofreproofenteringhervoice.“Therewillalwaysbethosewhowillnotreceiveus,iftheysuspect,butIdidnotthinkyoucaredsomuchforothers’opinions.”
“Idonot,”Margaretprotestedquietly.“Thereisjustsomuchtoconsider…”
“Ihavesomuchtoshowyou,”Carolinesaid.“Margaret,comewithme.”
ElizaimaginedCarolinewouldbeholdingMargaret’shandsentreatingly—assheherselfhaddonetoSomerset,asMelvillehadtriedtodotoher.Shesqueezedhereyesshutagainstthememories.
Sayyes,Margaret.
“Idonotknow,”Margaretsaid,hervoicesmall.“I…Imustthink.Canyoudelaygoing,evenalittle?”
TherewasapausesolongthatElizahalfwonderedifitwouldeverbebroken.
“Ihavespentaverylongtime,waiting,”Carolinesaid.Shesoundedverytired,allofasudden.“Ivowednevertodosoagain.”
“Youmustunderstandmyconcerns,”Margaretentreated.“Tellmeyouunderstand.”
“Idounderstand,”Carolinesaid.“ButIcannotstay.Icannotwait.”
“Notevenalittle?Forme?”
“Iloveyou,Margaret,”andnowtherewasafullnesstoCaroline’svoicethatspoketotears.“ButIjust…Foronce,Ishouldliketobechosenfirst.”
“But—”
Alongpause—akiss?
“Ihopewemeetagain,”Carolinesaid.
“Don’t—don’tgo!”
“Imust.”
Thesoundoffootstepsuponthefloorboards.ElizasprangfromherguarduptothenextlandingandwatchedasCarolineexited,pausingoutsidethedooramomenttobreathedeeply.Andthensheleft.
Elizawalkedslowlydown,feetasheavyasherheart.InsidetheroomMargaretwassittingaloneuponthesofa,eyesdrybutfaceverypale.
“Areyou…”Elizabegan,hardlyknowingwhatshemeanttoask,butMargaretshookherhead.
“Iamallright,”shesaid.Hervoicewasveryhigh.“Iamallright.”
“Verywell,”Elizasaid.Shesatdownnexttoher.
“Iamallright.”
“Itwouldbeallright,ifyouwerenotallright,”Elizasaidverysoftly.
“Shewouldnotwaitforme,”Margaretsaid,voiceveryconstricted.
“Shecannotstayhere,ifsheistopublishagain,”Elizasaid.“Herlifewouldbemadetoodifficult.”
“Iknow,”Margaretsaid,herchinwobbling.“Ijust…IjustthoughtIwasgoingtobebraver.”
AndElizamightnothavefelt,thesepastdays,anyrealsenseofwhoshewasanymore:whethershehadbeenrighttorefuseSomerset,whetherherloveforMelvillehadbeenatallreal—butbeforeallofthat,shehadbeenafriend.Thatshehadnotlost.SheleanedovertowrapMargarettightlyinherarmsandMargaret—whoElizahadnotknowntoweepsinceshewastenyearsold—burstintogreat,gulpingtearsandpressedherfaceintoEliza’sshoulder.
“IdonotwanttobeinBathanymore,”shesaidintothefrontofEliza’sgown.“Ijustcan’tbehereanymore.”
“Allright,”Elizasaid,squeezinghertighter.
“Idon’t,”Margaretsaidagain.
“Allright.”
“Canwejustgo?Anywhereelse?”
“Ofcourse,”Elizasaid;shewouldhaveagreedtoanythingMargaretasked,inthatmoment.“Ofcourse,Ishallthinkofsomething…”
HereyesfelluponthebilletLadyCarolinehadleftonthetable—theacceptancefromtheRoyalAcademy.
“Perhaps…London?”
BalfourHouse
Kent
10thApril’19
Eliza—
Laviniahasenteredherseclusion,soweareexpectantMargaretwillbeneededimminently.Asyourfirstyearofmourninghasnowended,willyouhavethegoodnesstoinformyourmotherthedateyoumeantoreturntoBalfour?YoumustindeedhavehadyourfilloftheCurebynow—Idohopeyouarenottobecomeoneofthosesicklywomenforeverstruckbyailments.Onemustpresson,Eliza!
Yourmother28
ElizaandMargarettraveledtoLondonbyhiredpostchaise,onlyinthecompanyoftheirmaids;PerkinsandtherestofthehouseholdweretostayinBath,toawaittheirhomecoming—thoughElizacouldnotyetconceiveofwhenthismightbe.Whenonewasrunningaway,onedidnotliketoconsidersuchpracticalitiesasthereturnjourney.
WhensheandMargarethadtraveledtoBath,Eliza’smoodhadbeenanxiousbutjubilant,asshewasequalpartsthrilledandfearful.Thistime,therewasanairofmanicdeterminationinthemannerwithwhichshedirectedtheirhundred-milejourneytoLondonasfastasshepossiblycould.AttendingtheSummerExhibitionwhenitopenedintwoweeks—seeingEliza’sportraitexhibitedthere,withtheirowneyes—wasbyfartheleastimportantreasonfortheirdeparture.FarmorepressingtoElizawasflingingherselfandMargaretintosomuchdistractionthattheymightbeabletooutrunboththeirheartbreaks.
WhenLondoncrestedonthehorizonaheadofthem,Elizawasmorecertainthaneverthatthishadbeentherightdecision.InthesereneeleganceofBath,onecouldnothelpbutturnone’sthoughtsinward,butintheinsistentgrandeurofLondon—Bath’snoisier,messier,demandingoldersister—onecouldnothelpbutbedistracted.
ThepostchaisetookthemallthewaytoRussellSquare,wheretheyweregreetedenthusiasticallybynoneotherthanLadyHurleyherself.
“Itissowonderfultoseeyou,both!”shesang,holdingoutherhandsinwelcome.“Hobbe,seetotheirbagsatonce!”
ElizahadwrittentoLadyHurleyjustassoonasMargarethadagreed,tearfully,tothescheme,andinherreturnletterLadyHurleyhadatonceinvitedthemtostayatthelodgingsshehadtakenfortheSeason.LadyHurleywascertainlynottheonlypersonofEliza’sacquaintanceinLondon,andnorwasshethegrandest—hertownhouse,whilespaciousandlavish,wasontheless-establishedRussellSquareratherthanthemorefashionableGrosvenororBerkeley—butshewastheonlyonewhoseacquaintanceElizawishedtorenewatsuchatime.
“Toallowyourselvestothinkwouldbedisastrous,”LadyHurleysaid,clappingherhands—withoutbeinggivenanyspecificdetail,sheappearedtohavesurmisedanaccurateenoughpictureofwhathadoccurred.“Letusgotothetheater.”
AndthougheveryboneinEliza’sbodyfeltleadenwithfatigue,sheagreedatonce:tothinkwould,indeed,becatastrophic.LadyHurley’sboxattheTheatreRoyalwaswellsituatedbothtoregardthestage,andalso—aswasjustasimportant,fornotevenTheBeggar’sOperacouldholdEliza’srestlessattentionforlong—theirfellowaudiencemembers.
“LastnightwesawtheDukeofBelmond,”LadyHurleyconfidedinElizaandMargaret,asshebroughtheroperaglassestohereyesandbeganscanningtheboxesacrossfromthem.“Withaladyamongsthiscompanywhowasmostcertainlynothiswife,mayIadd.”
“Notthething,”Mr.Fletchersaidwithsmugrelish.Mr.Fletcher,whohadtakenlodgingsinDukeStreetfortheSeason,appearedasmuchinevidenceuponLadyHurley’sarminLondon,ashewasinBath.
AsElizagazedaroundattheornateinterior,shenoticedtheglintofafairnumberofoperaglassesbeingturnedinthedirectionoftheirbox,too.
“Whyaretheylookingatus?”sheaskedLadyHurley.
LadyHurleyloweredheroperaglassesandlookedatElizaasthoughshewasdenserthanmud.
“MydearLadySomerset,”shesaid,soundinggreatlyamused.“Youareanunusuallyyoungwidowofgreatfortune.DidyouimagineyoucouldjointheSeasonandnotcauseastir?”
ThewordsweresoclosetoonesthatMelvillehadremarkedtoher,notsomanyweeksago,thatElizahadtopressahandmomentarilytoherbreasttosootheitspangbeforeshecouldrespond.
InthetwoweekstheyweretospendinLondonaheadoftheopeningoftheSummerExhibition,itprovedthatonthismatterLadyHurleyandMelvillewerebothquiteright.ThelasttimeElizahadspenttheSeasoninLondon,asMissBalfour,itwasonlybythesheerforceofhermother’swillthatanybodyhadtakenmuchnoticeofher.Thistime,however,shewasthewidowedLadySomerset,andrichtoboot,andnotevenherhalf-mourningpreventedthetonfromtakingnoticeofher.Bythenextmorning,theywerebesiegedbyinvitationsandverysoonLadyHurleywasshepherdingthemfrombreakfastpartiestomorningvisits,topicnicsandpromenades.Intheevenings,theyattendedthetheater,theoperaandevenafewballs—andifElizacouldnotyetdance,shecouldcertainlywatch,shecouldcertainlychat,and,asithappened,shecouldcertainlyflirt.
ForwhileMelvillehadnotgivenElizamuchreasontobelieveinanygentleman’strustworthiness,hehadcertainlymadeherabetterflirt.Andonceshehadovercomeherincredulityatthenumberofunattachedgentlemenwhowerenowdancingattendanceuponher,Eliza’soverpoweringneedtokeephermindoccupiedmadeherquitemotivatedtoengageinasmany—somewhatfrantic—flirtationsasshecouldmanage.
“Onealmostfeelssorryforthepoorlambs,”LadyHurleysaid,withacluckofthetongue,asseveralsuchlambsreluctantlylefttheirboxupontheirsecondvisittothetheater,thebellhavingrungtoindicatetheendoftheinterval.“Thecompetitionissodreadfullyfierce.”
“Idonotfeelsorryforthemintheslightest,”Margaretsaid.“Frombirth,theyareoverpraised,overindulgedandovervaluedbysociety.”
Margarethadbeguntoregainsomeofherhabitualsharpness.
“Inoticethatyou,too,arenotwithoutyourshareofadmirers,MissBalfour,”observedLadyHurley,anamusedsparkleinhereye.
Thiswastrue,andthoughMargaretdispensedsnubsandset-downswithalmostviciousliberality,shedidatleastappeartoderiveamanicsortofenjoymentfromtheexercise.
“Doyouhaveafavoritegallant,yet,LadySomerset?”LadyHurleyasked,notbotheringtohushhervoiceasthecurtainroseagain.ThistimeitwasTheTwoSpanishValetsandElizaavertedhereyesfromthestage—MelvillehadsoenjoyedtheplaywhenithadbeenperformedatBath—toshakeherheadinresponse.
TherewasthesweetMr.Radley,ofcourse,whomadeupincomplimentsforwhathelackedinliveliness;thegrey-hairedanddistinguishedMr.Pothelswaite,anamusingconversationalistwithpleasingmanners;thehandsomebuttediousSirEdwardCarlton.Butnoneofthem—nomatterhowamusing,howinteresting,howengaging—couldinspireinheranyfractionofthefeelingshehadheldforeitherMelvilleorSomerset.AndtryasshemighttobedistractedbyLondon,Elizastillfoundherselfdwelling—asshelayinbedorwatchedtheopera—onboththesegentlemen,still,andonemostespecially.
ElizahadchosentoendherrelationshipwithSomerset.Shemadethatdecisionherself,andbeforeanythingelsehadhappenedthathorriblenight,shehadthoughtittherightone.Shewouldalwayshavemournedhim—mournedwhattheyhadlost,whattheymightoncehaveshared—andthoughshewouldalwayscarryasmalltorchjustforhim,shecouldunderstandit.Itmadesensewhytheycouldnotbetogether.WhereasMelville…UntiltheverymomentSomersethadrevealedthetruth,Elizahadstillwantedhim.Stillwantedhim,now,despiteeverything.AndnoneofLondon’sentertainmentscouldtakehermindoffthatfactforasinglemoment.
Elizawouldjusthavetotryharder.AndiftheverypropereveningsofentertainmentLadyHurleyhadthusfarbeenchaperoningthemthroughwouldnotserve,thenperhapssomeofthefasterentertainmentsLondonhadtooffermight.
“Icannotthankyouenoughforyourhospitality,mylady,”ElizaleanedintowhispertoLadyHurley.
“Thinknothingofit,mychild,”LadyHurleysaidwithawaveofherhand.“Haveyoubeenenjoyingyourself?”
“Ihave,”Elizasaid.“ThoughIwaswondering…Tomorrow,mightwepartakeofsupperattheRoyalSaloon?”
UnderMrs.Balfour’sstrictchaperonage,theRoyalSalooninPiccadillyhadbeenoneofthemanylocationsElizahadbeenforbiddentovisit,butLadyHurleywasaverydifferentsortofduenna.Theverynextnighttheyspentafabulouseveningdininginoneofthesaloon’smostpublicbooths,inthecompanyofMr.FletcherandahighlypaintedcousinofLadyHurley’s,beforeattendingaratherrowdycardpartyatthislady’shouse,whereElizaandMargaretwereintroducedtothepreviouslymysteriousgamesofloo,faroandwhist.Thedayafter,thewholecompanytookasteamboattoMargatewithadifferentgroupofLadyHurley’sfriends,andthedayafterthattheyspentaverydivertingafternoonwanderingaroundaspringfairintheirplainestgowns,mixingamongstbothrespectabletradesmenandless-than-respectabletradesmen,andgazingattheattractions.
AndifElizawerebeginningtoturnmoreheadsthanwasadvisable,andifLondonwerebeginningtogossipofhowfastLadySomersethadbecome,andifeachdayElizawerereceivingfewerandfewerinvitationstotonishparties,itseemedasatisfactorypricetopay.Forwhenshewaslaughinginasupperbox,ordallyingpleasantlywithacrowdofgentlemen,ordrinkingfartoomuchpunchattheOperaHouse,shecouldpretend,forafewblessedmoments,thatshewasstillnotmissingamanwhohadbeenasgoodaspaidtoruinher.
???
Onthedaybeforetheexhibition’sopening,whenElizahadexhaustedallofthesepossibilitiesandmoreandcouldnotthinkofasingleotherplacelefttovisit,orasingleotheramusementlefttoperuse,shesuggestedtheyallattendthemaskedridottoatVauxhallPleasureGardens.
Atthis,evenLadyHurleyhadpaused.PublicridottosofthissortwerelookeddownuponbythePoliteWorldasghastlyandvulgaraffairs.
“Theyarenot,perhaps,verygenteel,”shewarned,butElizawasnottobedeterred.Themoreoutrageousthediversion,thebetterthedistraction—andthebetterthedistraction,thelessshefeltasifshehadbeencutwideopen.
LadyHurleypersuaded,theysetoutthateveninginLadyHurley’scoach,andifElizafeltmorewanthanexcited,well…Ithadbeenatiringfewweeks.
“IreceivedaletterfromCarolinethismorning,”Margaretsaid,aproposofnothing.
Elizafeltherheartbegintorace.
“Ohyes?”shesaid,strivingforunconcern.
“TheyhavearrivedinLondon,”shesaid.“Foroneday,beforetheytraveltoDoverforthecrossing.MelvilleisgoingtoParis,too,now.”
“Isee,”Elizasaid,asifMargarethadjustinformedherthatvegetalhatswerebackinfashion.
“Hewantstoseeyou,”Margaretsaid.“Hewantstoexplain.”
LadyHurley’seyestraveledfromMargarettoElizaandbackagain.
“Thatisallverywell,butIdonotwanttoseehim,”Elizasaidsavagely.“Goodnessknowswhatlieshewillhavecomeupwith,withsomuchtimetoprepareforsuchameeting.”
“Doyounotthinkitmightbeeasier,”Margaretasked,“tospeakwithhim,ratherthantrytobusyyourselfoutoffeelingthisway?”
“No,”Elizasaid.
“Eliza…”
“No,Margaret,”Elizasaid.“No.”
ThesoundofmusicupontheairalertedthemthattheywereapproachingVauxhall,andElizaleanedtowardthewindowmoreoutofadesiretoavoidMargaret’sconversationthananythingelse.Yetasshegazedoutupontheacresofpleasuregardens,itsintricatewalkslitbyathousandgoldenlamps,thehundredsofpersonsstreaminginandoutofitspavilionsandlodges,Elizafeltastirringofgenuineexcitementinherbreast.SheturnedtolookatMargaret,hergreatestfriendinthewholeworld,andtookamomentjusttomarvelathowveryfortunateshewastohavebeenbornrelatedtosuchacreature.
“Oncemoreuntothebreach?”sheasked.
AndMargaretgrinnedwithshiningeyes.
“Certainly,”sheagreed.
“Splendid,”Mr.Fletchersaidwithgreatfeeling.
Theyplacedtheirmasksupontheirfacesandwrappedtheirdominosaboutthem.Underthesehalfrobes,theywerebothwearingeveninggowns:Margaret’sabeautifulbluesilk,Eliza’sthemagnificentbronzed-greencreationofMadamePrevette.WhileitwasstillmonthstooearlyforElizatowearsuchacolor,themaskwouldconcealheridentitysothatitdidnotmatter.LadySomersetmightbeinhalf-mourning,buttonightshewasjustEliza.
Theyclimbedoutofthecarriageandwereimmediatelyimmersedintothesoundofmusicandmerriment,ofloudvoicesandlouderlaughter,ofmoreaccentsandlanguagesthanElizawasaccustomedtohearing.Outsidetheconfinesoftheton,thiswasanassemblageofclassesandnationalitiesfarmorevariegatedthanElizawasusedto:itwasaLondonshehadnotseenbefore,anditwasmagnificent.
Theywentfirsttothesupper-boxes,topartakeofasimplesupperofslicedmeats,breadrollsandcustardtartswithglassesofclaretasaccompanimentandthenheadedfortherotunda,tojointheglittering,shiftingthrongofdancers.
Here,Elizacouldsee,forthefirsttime,whypublicridottoswereconsideredbythetonassoveryindecent.Forthemannersweresomuchlooserthanwhatshewasusedto,ineveryway:bawdywitticismswereshoutedfromonedancertoanother,handswereclaspedtighterandlowerthanwouldeverhavebeenallowedinahighsocietyballroom,scufflesbrokeoutoverimaginedslightsbetweentheyoungbucks,thepunchwasservedfreelyanddrunkwithabandon.Itmightverywellhavebeenthemosthigh-spiritedeveningElizahadeverspentand,safeinthecompanyofhertrustedthree,shedancedquadrilles,cotillions,countrydanceaftercountrydance,laughingastheytriedtokeepupwiththemusicandswappingpartnerswithabandon.
Thefirstwaltz,whenitbegan,degeneratedintochaosalmostimmediately.DancedcloserandfasterthananyElizahadeverdonebefore,andsobusylaughingherwaythroughthestepsthatshewasnotpayingattention,notevenlookingatherpartners,really.Foronce,Elizadidnotfeeloverwroughtwiththinking,anditwassuchareleasethatshefeltalmostgiddy,hardlycaringwhicharmscaughtherasshethrewherselfaroundthedancefloor,spunfirstbyamaninablackdomino,thenared,thenapurple,andthenintothearmsofapartnermoregracefulthantherest.Apartnerwhodidnotmerelyclaspherhands,palmtopalm,butdeftlyintertwinedhisfingerswithhers.AndElizalookedupintodarkbrowneyesflecked,justinthemiddle,withthetiniestsuggestionofgold—eyesshewouldhaverecognizedanywhere.29
StaringupintoMelville’seyes,thesmileslidoffEliza’sfaceandherheartbegantobeatfasterandfaster.Asthedancersswappedandexchangedaboutthem,Melville,maskedwithaplainblackdomino,graspedElizatighter,refusingtorelinquishhertothecrowd,andshefollowedhisstepsautomatically,instinctively,whilehermindreeled.Whatwashedoinghere?Theblissfulthoughtlessnessofthelastfewminuteswastrulygone,andherthoughtsbouncedfromonecontradictoryfeelingtoanother:shewaspleasedtoseehim,shewishedhehadnotcome;shewantedtohearhisvoice,shewouldnotspeakwithhim.Finally,asthedyingstrainsoftheviolinshadeveryonepartingandbowingtooneanother,Melvilleletgo,hishandsdraggingreluctantlyfromherwaistwhileElizatooktwoswiftstepsback.Ifshewasgoingtohaveanychanceofthinkingclearly,shehadtomaintainsomedistance.
Silently,MelvilleheldouthishandandElizateeteredbetweenthetwosidesofherselfforalongmoment,beforeshetookit.Shehadtoomanyquestions.Melvillepulledhergentlythroughthedancersandtheonlookers,onlystoppingwhentheyreachedtherelativequietofthelantern-litpaths.
Agigglingcoupledashedpast,clearlybentonsomesortofcarnalmischief,andElizapulledherhandfromMelville’sgrip.
“Howdidyouknowwewouldbehere?”Elizaasked.
“MissBalfour,”hesaid.“ShesentanotetoCarolinebypostboy—andsowecame.”
“IcametoLondontobeawayfromyou,”Elizasaid.
“Iknow,”Melvillesaid.“ButI…Imustbepermittedtoexplainmyself.IcannotleaveEnglandbeforeIdo.”
Hedrewherovertoastonebenchembracedoneithersidebytreesandtheysat.
“WhentheSelwynsapproachedme,”Melvillebegan,withnopreambleandspeakingrapidlyasifhethoughtthemabouttobeinterruptedatanymoment,“Iwasdesperate.Ihadalreadyspentweekstouringthecountry,tryingtoconvincesomewealthypatrontosupportme;thedaywemet,Iwasonmywaybackfromjustsuchafruitlessquest.NoonewantedtodefyPaulet:Ihadthoughtmycareerover,myaspirationssquashed,thoughtthatCaroandIweretobesentencedtothefringesofsocietyandAlderleytocrumbleintodisrepair.”
Elizahardenedherheartagainstthesympathythatwantedtostirwithinit.Hewasawriter;sheoughtexpecthewouldtellthetalewell.
“WhenSelwynexplainedwhathewanted,”Melvillewasspeakingslowernow—thispartofthestorywasnotsoeasytonarrate,“itdidnotseemsovillainous.IalreadyfoundyouinterestingandhemadeitsoundasifallIhadtodowas…continue.Continuetospendtimewithyou,andflirt,yes,andperhapseventemptyouintobendingtherulesofproprietyalittle—butonlytohinderyourandSomerset’srelationship.Ihadnonotionoftherisktoyourfortune.Selwyntoldmeitwasonlytopreventanalliancebetweenyou,andIwashappytostandinSomerset’sway.Ineverthoughthedeservedyou.”
ItwasapieceofmanipulationthatwastypicaloftheSelwyns,but…
“Didyou,atanypoint,considerwhatharmyoumightcausetome?”Elizaasked.“Alady’sreputationisafragilething.”
MelvillehesitatedandElizawatchedhimclosely.
“Notforawhile,”Melvilleadmitted.“Ihaveneverhadmuchinfluenceovermyownnotoriety:itexists,nomatterwhatIdo,andIhavehadtolearnnottocensuremyselfforwhatIcannotcontrol.Ifthegossipsspreadliesaboutyouandme…well,IsupposeIthoughtthefaultlaywiththem.”
Theslowwayhewasspeaking,asifeachwordwasonehewasuncomfortablevoicing,suggestedthathewastryingveryhardtospeakhonestly—and,despiteherself,Elizasoftened,alittle.ShehadseenforherselfthewayMelvillehadbeendoggedbywhispersandrumorsandprejudicefromthemomenthesetfootinBath,longbeforehehadevenmettheSelwyns.
“ItwasnotuntilyourevealedthetruthofthemoralityclausethatIsawhowIhadbeenmanipulated,”Melvillecontinuedheavily.“Iendedthearrangementthatday,Ipromise.”
Helookedupandcaughthergaze,miseryandlongingclearinhiseyes.“Andthen,thenightwedancedIrealized…”
“Realizedwhat?”Elizaasked,breathless.
“ThatthereasonIwantedtospendtimewithyou,thereasonIwassounsettledbythenewsofyourengagement,hadnothingtodowiththeSelwyns.ItwasbecauseIwasfallinginlovewithyou.”
Elizaletherheaddroptorestinherhands.Tohearhimsaysuchwords!Itwaspainfullywonderful.ShefeltMelville’shandpressgentlyuponherback,anditwassocomforting…Itwouldbesomucheasiertobelievehim,andallowherselftobeheldbut—
“HowdoIknowyouaretellingthetruth?”sheasked,straightening.“Icannotbeartobemadeafoolofagain.Youhaveliedtomesomanytimes,sooftenandsowellandsoconvincingly—andIhavehadtoquestionsomuchsince—”
“Eliza,lookatme!”Melvillepulledhismaskoffhisface,sothatshecouldseehim,properly,andgraspedherhandsinhis.“Whenitcametous,whenitcametomeandyou,Ineverlied.Whenwespokeofourdreams,ourfamilies,ourlives,Iwasnotlying.Ipromiseyou.”
“ButSomersetsaidyouneverendedthearrangement,notuntilhedid,”Elizasaid.
“Hewaslying,”Melvillesaid.
“But—”
“Iloveyou,”Melvillesaid,interruptingElizabeforeshecouldfinish.“Allyouneedtotellmeis:arethosefeelingsreturned?”
Elizapausedandthenknockedhishandsaway.
“Whatrighthaveyoutomakesuchdemands?”shesaid.“Itisyouwhoneedstoanswermyquestions,Melville.”
“Aremyfeelingsreturned?”Melvilleaskedagain,sobullishlythatElizabristledevenfurther.
“Iwillnotbebulliedintomakingadeclaration,whenyouwillnotanswerme,”Elizasaid,shakingherhead.“HowelseamIsupposedtoknowIamnotbeingmanipulatedagain?Liedto,again?”
“WhywouldIlienow?”Melvillesaid.“WhatcouldIhopetogainfromlying,now?”
“Thesamethingyoustoodtogainlasttime,”sheretorted.“Yourcircumstanceshavenotchanged,havethey?Youstillneedmoney,orapatron.ForallIknowitmightbemyfortuneyou’reafternow.”
Shehadnoteventrulymeantit—ithadspilledoutofherwithherangerandfrustration—butMelvilleflinchedback,leaningawayfromher.
“Isthatwhatyouthinkofme?”hesaid.“ThatIamsomecommonfortunehunter?”
“Canyoublameme?”Elizasaid,feelingachillinthespacehisbodyusedtowarm.“Afterwhatyouhaveadmittedalreadytodoingformoney.”
“YoumustknowIwouldnever—”
“MustI?”Elizacried.“IthoughtIknewyou;formonthsIthoughtIknewyou,andthenIdiscoveredeverythingtobefalse.HowamIsupposedtoknow,Melville?Proveittome.”
“Ifyoucannotforgiveme,thenthisisallfruitless,”Melvillesaid.
“Ifyouwillnotproveittome,thenperhapsitisfruitless,”Elizasaid.
“Youarenottrying,”hesaid.
“Youarenottrying!”shesaid.“Itisyouwhoisguilty.Itisyouwhohasledmesoastraythatmyliferisksbeingeverybitasbrokenasyours!”
Inthatmoment,allElizawantedwastohurthimasshehadbeenhurt,andMelville’sfacetwistedinpainandanger.
“Oh,yes,itwouldbemucheasiertoblameme,wouldn’tit,”hesnapped.“Tellme,whatpartofyourlifedidIruin?Thepartwhereyouspentyearspiningforamanwhodoesn’tevenseeyou?Orthepartwhereyouwaitedobedientlyforsociety’spermissiontobehappy?”
Elizajumpedtoherfeet,tearsspringingtohereyes.
“ThepartwhereIlovedyou,”shechokedout.“That’sthepartIregret.”
Elizaturnedonherheel,dashingbacktowardtherotunda,halfblindedbysobs.Tearingthroughthecrowd,shelookedurgentlyaboutforMargaretbuttryingtocatchsightofherintheseaofdancerswasasfruitlessasparsingasingledropofrainfromanocean.EverytimeElizacaughtsightofawomaninapinkdomino,shewaseitherthewrongheightorthewrongshapeorjustplainwrong
Andthen,finally,shecaughtsightofher.Margaretwasinthecenteroftheroom,dancingacountrydance,twirlingaroundandaroundwithherhandsclaspedwithaladywearingaredmaskanddomino.Caroline.Elizawatchedthemforseveralmoments,spellbound,hertearspaused.Theywerenottheonlyladiesdancingwithoneanother,forthereweremorewomeninattendancethiseveningthangentlemen,andunderthesafetyoftheirmasksanddominos—releasedfromanyfearofobservation—MargaretandCarolinewerespinningandlaughingwithabandon.Asonedoeswhenoneisdancingwiththepersonthattheylove.
ElizawaiteduntilthedancehadendedtocatchMargaret’seye.Margaret,unlikeEliza,hadnotroublerecognizingEliza.SheleftCaroline’ssideimmediatelyandhurriedover.
“DidMelvillefindyou?”shedemanded.
“Yes,”Elizasaid.
“Whatdid—”Margaretbegan,butElizainterrupted.
“Iamgoinghome,”shesaid.
“Iwillcomewithyou!”Margaretsaidatonce.
“No,”Elizasaid,gently.“Stay.Dance.Returnsafely.”
“Areyousure?”Margaretsaid.Overhershoulder,ElizasawCarolinehoveringatalittledistance,hereyeswatchful.
“Yes.”
“IdonotknowwhatIamdoing,”Margaretadmittedshakily.“Idonotknowifthisisevenpossible.”
“Tonight,youarejustdancing,”Elizasaid,hergutwrenchingwiththeeffortittooktospeakcalmly.“Now,offwithyou!”
Elizaturnedandwoundherwaybacktowardthecarriagestofindherselfahackneycab,aloneandunattended,andonlyonceshewassafelyensconcedwithindidshegiveherselfpermissiontoweep.30
ElizawalkedslowlyintoLadyHurley’shome,untyingherloomaskwithclumsyhandsandcastingoffherdominoatlast.Shehadneverdesiredsleepsomuchinherlife.
“Mylady.”Hobbe,LadyHurley’ssteward,approachedatafastclip.
“Goodevening,”Elizasaidtiredly.“CouldIhavesometeabroughtuptomyroom,please?”
“Mylady,Mrs.Balfourisinthedrawingroom.”
Elizawassureshehadmisheard.
“M-mymother?”
Hobbenodded.
“Here?Now?”
“Inthedrawingroom,mylady,”Hobberepeated.
“Whendidshearrive?”Elizaasked,mouthdrying.
“Aroundseveno’clockthisevening.”
Itwasnowpasteleven.
“Ohno,”Elizasaidfaintly.Withoutknowingthewhysandwhereforesbehindhermother’svisit,Elizawasabsolutelycertainitcouldnotbeforagoodreason—andthatshehadn’tbeenintoreceivehermadeitfarworse.
“Ididexplainyouwereattendingaconcert,andthatyouwerenotsurewhattimeyouwouldbeback…Butsheinsisteduponwaitingforyourreturn.”
“Goodlord!”
Elizastoodstillforamoment,wonderingwhatonearthtodo,whatcouldbedonetoalleviatethisveryunfortunatecollectionofcircumstances.Shestareddownatherdress,atherbronze-greendress,andwonderedifthesoundofhervoicehadcarrieduptohermotherorwhetherElizamightbeabletosneakupstairstochange.
“Eliza!”Mrs.Balfour’svoicecalledfromthedrawingroom,andElizawasmovedtoobeyitssummonswithoutconsciouslydecidingtodoso.
Shepausedatthedoor,tookadeepbreathandentered.
“Mother,whatapleasantsurprise!”shesaidbrightly.
Mrs.Balfourdidnotgetuptogreether.Shewasarrangedneatlyuponthesofa,sippingtea.HowshemanagedtolooksointimidatingintheposewasbeyondEliza,butonecouldnotarguewithitseffects.
“Iamsosorrythatwewerenotathometoattendtoyouuponyourarrival.We—”
“Dositdown,”Mrs.Balfoursaid,cuttingacrossEliza.ItdidnotmatterthatthiswasLadyHurley’shouse,andshewasonlyaguest—ithadbecomeMrs.Balfour’sroomassoonasshehadenteredit.Elizasatonthefacingsettee,handsclenchedinherlap.
“WhenIfirstreceivedyourletter,”Mrs.Balfourbegan,inaslow,consideredvoice,“declaringyourintentiontosetupyourownestablishmentinBath,Ihadqualms.”
Elizaknewthisofcourse:thequalmshadbeendocumentedatlength.
“ButIreassuredmyself,”Mrs.Balfourcontinued,“byrememberingthatyouhavebehavedwellallyourlife.Youhavealwaysdonetherightthing,alwaysbehavedwithpropriety,knownyourduty,honoredyourfamily.Ihavealwaysbeenabletocountuponyou.Ihaveneverhadtoworry.”
“I—”Elizabegan.
“Butentertaininganotoriousrakeinyourhome?Drivingaphaetonuponpublicroadsforanyonetosee?ComingtoLondontheverymomentyouenteredhalf-mourningtodallywitheverygentlemanthatcrossesyourpath,yournamebeingbandiedabouttownasifyouweresomecommonjadeandnotaBalfour—notacountess?Ishouldhaveworriedmore,Eliza.”
Shedidnotraisehervoice—thatwasneverMrs.Balfour’sway—butshehadamannerofspeaking,incrispanddamningtones,thatmadeevenmoreofanimpactthanifshehadshouted.
“Mama,”Elizabegan,“youcannotlistentothegossips—theymakeeverythingsoundsomuchworsethanitis.”
“Haveyoubeenvisitingfarohouses,Eliza?Haveyoubeenstayingwithawomanwhoreeksoftrade?”Mrs.Balfourasked.“Wherewereyouthisevening,inagownthatisentirelyinappropriateforyourstateofhalf-mourning?”
Elizadidnotanswer.Tolieatthisjuncturewouldbefatal.
“Itmattersnot,”Mrs.Balfoursaid.“ItdoesnottrulyevenmatterwhatIthink—thoughIconfessmyselftobeverydisappointed.Itmatterswhatsocietythinks,itmatterswhatSomersetthinks—bothagreethatyouhavebecomedreadfully,unforgivably,fast.”
“Somerset?”Elizarepeated,thrown.WereSomersetandhermothercorresponding?“Whatdoeshehavetodowiththis?”
“Onlyeverything,Eliza,”Mrs.Balfoursaid,leaningforward.“NodoubtyouhavealetterwaitingforyouinBath,fromMr.Walcot.Ishalladdfailingtohaveyourcorrespondenceforwardedtomyaccountofyourirresponsibilities.Fortunately,Somersethimselfsawfittowritetoyourfatheraweekago,towarnusofwhatwastocome.”
“Wh-whatdidhesay?”Elizasaid,faintly.
“Thatgivenyourrecentbehavior,hehasnochoicebuttorescindyourbequeathment,”Mrs.Balfoursaid.“Heistotakeawayalltheestates,assoonasthepaperworkcanbefulfilled—andthatshouldnottakeaboveafewdays.”
“But—buthecan’t!”Elizaprotested.
“Iassureyou,hecan,”Mrs.Balfoursaid,andElizawonderedhowmuchherfurywastemperedbyvindication.“Asthewillsoclearlystated:itisuptohimtointerpretyourbehaviorandhehasinterpretedit,asIdo,asdeplorable.”
“Buthesaidhewouldnot!”Elizasaid.“Heagreednotto,inexchangefor—”
Shebrokeoff,feelingsuddenlyandcertainlythattherewouldbenobenefittoMrs.BalfourlearningoftheSelwyns’scheme.Butitdidnotmakesense—SomersetknewwhatElizacouldrevealabouthisfamily,knewthedisgraceshecouldbringtohisdoorstepwithjustafewwords.Whenlasttheyspoke,hehadseemedcommittedtoavoidingsuchacircumstance—whathadhappenedtochangehismind?
“Thenperhapsthesustainedembarrassmenttohisfamily’snamehaschangedhismind.”Mrs.Balfoursatback,deathblownowdealt.“Onecannotliveinaman’spocket,asyouhavebeendoingwithMelville,entertaininghimforhoursintheprivacyofyourhome,withoutaccusationsofthemostgrievoussortbeinglevelledatyou.”
“IwillgotoHarefield,”Elizasaid,blinkingaroundtheroomasiftofindtheansweruponthewalls.“Ishallmakehimseesense.”
“No,youwillnot,”Mrs.Balfoursaidbriskly.“IhaveasuiteofroomsbookedatPultney’s.Youwillaccompanymethere,now,andtomorrowyouwillaccompanymebacktoBalfour,MargaretwillgotoLavinia,andthenyouwillinstructPerkinstopackupyourhouse.”
“No.”
“No?”Mrs.Balfourblinked.
“Icannot,”Elizasaid.
Mrs.Balfourstaredather.
“Youcannot?”sherepeated.ShehadevidentlynotconsidereditaremotepossibilitythatElizawoulddisobeyher.Intruth,neitherhadEliza.Shehadalwayssuspected,ifsuchamomentasthisweretocome,thatshewouldcapitulateinstantly.
“Eliza,Ihadnotthoughtitnecessarytoexplainexactlywhatyourbehaviorhasriskedforourfamily’sreputation.Butperhapsitis.”Sheleanedforwardoncemore,eyesnarrowing.“IfwordspreadsthatSomersetistakingawayyourfortune,andthereasonforit,theshamewillattachtousall.ThebestwecanhopefornowistokeepthewholethingasquietaspossibleandbegSomersettodothesame.”
“No,Mama—thatisnotthebestIcanhopefor,”Elizasaid.Mrs.Balfour’snostrilsflaredandElizaplungedonbeforeshecouldbeinterrupted.“Fortomorrow—tomorrowIwillbeattendingtheSummerExhibition.Ihavehadapaintingaccepted,aportraitofMelville.”
Hervoiceheldnoshameattheadmission,onlyquietpride,andElizalaidtremblingfingersonherlips.Shehadthoughtallsatisfactionattheachievementtohavevanished,renderedimpossiblebyMelville’sbetrayal—butthereitwas,stillthere.Hidden,untilnow,butnotgone.
“Eliza…”Mrs.Balfourbreathed.“Whathaveyoudone?Haveyou—haveyouputyournametoit?”
“Itisanonymous.”
“Fornow,”Mrs.Balfourwhispered.“Butwordwillnodoubtgetouteventuallyand…”Shepressedahandtoherhead.
“Iknowthisisbeyondcomprehensionforyou,Mama,”Elizasaid,“butIcouldnotletsuchanopportunitypassmeby.”
Mrs.Balfourstaredather,asifshedidnotrecognizeherintheleast.
“Whendidyoustarttobelieveyourpleasureswereaboveyourdutytoyourfamily,Eliza?Toriskallofus,foryourself,isbeyondcomprehension,”shesaidatlast.“Youhavebrothers,niecesandnephews—itisyourdutytoactfortheirbestinterests,aswellasyourown.”
“AndIdid!”Elizacried.“Fortenlongyears!Ihavegivenyoumostofmylife,Mama!Madeeverysacrificeyouhaveeveraskedofme,gaveupeverything.Ididit,forallofyou,andIdiditwithoutcomplaining.ButIamdonenow.Iwantmorefrommylifethanduty.”
Shewasbreathinghard.Theywerebothstandingnow,thoughElizawasnotsurewhenithadhappened.
“AnddoyounotthinkIwantedmore?”Mrs.Balfourasked.“Thatyourgrandmotherwantedmore?Thatanyoftheladiesonthisstreetwantmoreforthemselves?Wecannot.Andso,wegetonwithit.”
Elizastaredather.ShehadneversuspectedMrs.Balfourhadeverwantedanythingotherthanthelifeshehad,theoneshespenteverydaystillfightingfor.AndElizawished,suddenly,thattheymighthavereachedthissubjectinanotherconversation,thattheycouldhavespokenwithsuchhonestyatanother,softermoment.Elizawouldhavelikedtohaveknownthisversionofhermother,before.
Mrs.Balfourclosedhereyesandvisiblytriedtocalmherself.“AllIwant—allIhaveeverwanted—iswhatisbestforallofmychildren,”shesaidquietly.“Doyoubelievethat?”
AndsuddenlyEliza’sthroathurt.
“Ido,”Elizasaid,andshecouldhearthetearsinhervoice.Itwastrue.Overpoweringandbadgeringandopinionatedasshewas,ElizaknewthateverythingMrs.Balfourdidwasforthegoodofthemall,andithadnotalwaysfeltatrap.Oneneverhadtoworryabouttherightthingtodo,whatthecorrectcourseofactionwas,forshewouldtellyou.ElizacouldsimplyrestherwillagainstMrs.Balfour’sandallowittopropherup—andtherewaspartofherevennowthatlongedtodoit.Tosubmitherselfbackintothefamilialfoldthatwouldberateher,andmoldher,andpushheraround—butthatwouldalsoprotecther,shieldher.Itwouldbeasmallerlife,butitwouldbeasaferone.
“TomorrowwewillleaveforBalfour,”hermothersaid,nodoubtinhervoice.“AndMargaretforBedfordshire.”
Elizatookadeepbreath.
“No,Mama,”Elizasaid.“TomorrowIwillattendtheexhibition.It’sachance—anopportunitythatperhapsyouneverhad—andIamgoingtotakeit.”
Asafelifewasnotwhatshewanted.Andifherfortunewastobetakenawayfromheranyway,shemightaswellgooutinwhateverblazeofgloryshecouldmuster.
Sheswallowedandaddedwithmoredifficultystill,“ItdoesnotmeanthatIamunappreciativeofthesacrificesyouhavemadeforme.ThatIammakingdifferentchoicesisnottodisrespectyours.”
“Ishallneverforgiveyou,ifyoudothis,”Mrs.Balfourwhispered.
Elizasqueezedhereyesshut,willingherselftoholdontoherstrength.
“Ihaveto,Mama—Ihopeyouwillunderstandoneday.”
“Thenwehavenomoretosaytoeachother,”Mrs.Balfoursaid,andinanothermomentshewasgone,leavingElizaquitealone.31
Elizaawokeearlythenextmorning,beforetherestofthehousehold,andPardlehelpedherdressinasimplegownofdove-greysilkbeforetheyquitthehousewithoutbreakfast.ElizahaddecidedshewouldattendtheSummerExhibitionalone,thismorning,forshedidnotknowhowshewaslikelytoreactuponseeingtheportraitagain.Thelasttimeshehadseenthepaintingshehadbeensendingitoffforjudgment,fullofthrillandprideandlove.Today,shewasinafarmoresombermood,forthepallofMrs.Balfour’svisitandthenewsofthelossofherfortunethenightbeforehadcastthefutureinagrim,uncertainlight.
Thedifficultthingwithactsofbravery,inEliza’sopinion,wasthattheydidnotfeelnearlyasgoodasonemightimagine.Infact,intheaftermath,onecouldfeelquiteasguilt-riddenandasnervousanddreadfulasonedidafteranactofcowardice.Onlyalmost,however.Forunderneathitall,underneaththefearofwhatwastocome,theconcernthatherfamilymightneverforgiveher,Elizacouldbereassuredbyonesmallkernelofsatisfaction:evenifthisturnedouttobethemostegregiousmistakeofherlife,atleastitwouldbeonethatshehadchosen,ratherthanonethathadbeenchosenforher.
ThecabslowedastheynearedSomersetHouse.ThattheSummerExhibitionwasheldatapropertywhichhadbelonged,twohundredyearsbefore,toherlatehusband’sfamily,wasapieceofironythathad,strangely,onlyoccurredtoElizaatthisverymoment.Shewonderedifshehadsubmittedtheportraitunderherownname,whetherthisfactwouldhavesecuredheramorefavorablespot?TheplacementofpaintingswithinSomersetHousewasatthediscretionofthehangingcommittee,andtherangeofpositionsranfromtheverygood(eyelevel,inthefirstrooms,usuallyreservedforacademymembers)totheaverage,totheverypoor(ontheceilinginthenotoriouslydarkOctagonRoom)andElizahadnoideawhereherportraitwaslikelytobe.
TheypulledintothecourtyardandElizasquaredhershoulders.Itwastime.WhenElizahadvisitedtheexhibitionbefore,asachild,ithadbeenthrongedwithpeople,buttodayElizamusthavebeenoneoftheveryfirstvisitors.Shewasoffered,immediatelyuponentering,acopyofthecatalogue,butalthoughsheknewthisvolumetobeanindispensableguidetolocatingthepiecesofartdisplayed,Elizadidnotmakethepurchase.Shefeltthemomentwastoomomentoustotakeashortcut.
Instead,shepassedslowlyfromroomtoroom,followedbyasilentPardle,hereyesaswideandadmiringastheyhadbeenuponherveryfirstvisit,somanyyearsago,herhandclaspedinhermother’sastheytriedtolocatehergrandfather’spieces.Thewallsandceilingswerepackedsotightlythatitwasdifficulttoknowwheretolook,andEliza’sgazetraveledfromportraitstolandscapestoseascapestohistoricalpaintings,allclusteredandmingledtogether.Sheallowedherattentiontowanderfreely,notpayingtoomuchheedtotheartistsofeachworkbutlingeringwherevershefeltcompelledtodoso.Shegazeduponminiaturesandetchingsandsculptures,andmarveledatthemyriadofskilledhandsthatcouldhavecreatedsuchbeautifulobjects.
Shewalkedthroughthefifthroom—takinginthevasthistoricalbattlesceneontheeastwall—andintothesixth,whereshestoppedabruptlyintheentrance.Forthere,hangingopposite,inherdirecteyeline,washerportrait.AndalthoughElizahadcomewiththeexpressintentionofseeingit,shestillfeltasifallthebreathhadbeenknockedoutofher.Itwashere.Itwasreallyhere.Wholeandundamaged.
Shehaddoneit.
AndasElizastared,andtheportrait-Melvillereturnedhergazealittlequizzically(asiftosay“whodidyouexpect?”),Elizafeltasmilespreadingacrossherface.Despiteallthathadhappened,despitealltheuncertaintyofthefuture,inthismomentshefeltonlyexultation.Apaintingofherswashanginghere,amongstsomeofthegreatestartistsinEurope,atanexhibitionshehadthought,asachild,soabovehershemightaswellbeglimpsingheaven.Itwasalmostbeyondcomprehension.
Shecouldnothavesaidhowlongshehadstoodthere,infrontofit,onlythatafteralittlewhile,afewpersonsbegantotrickleintotheroomaroundher.Theyseemedmostly—bythewaytheywerespeaking—tobeexhibitorsthemselves,andfromthewayseveralcametolingeratthesamewallasEliza,itseemedthatherportraithadalreadybeguntogeneratediscussion.
“Whodoyouthinkdidit?”onegentlemansaidtohisfellow.ThepaintstainsonhishandstoldElizathathe,too,waslikelytohaveapaintinghangingonthewall.“GotthelookofJacksonaboutit—doyouthinkhe’ssnuckitinanonymouslyasajoke?”
“No,no,”hisfrienddisagreed.“ThecolorsareallwrongforJackson—IthinkitfarmorelikelytobeanEtty.Lookattheflair,myboy.”
Theyexamineditforafewmoremoments,guessingattheartist—allthenameswere,ofcourse,men—beforemovingon.Melville’sportraitlookedsidelongatEliza,eternallyamused,andElizareturnedthesmilealittlesadly.
“LadySomerset?”
ElizaturnedherheadtoseeMr.Berwick
“Goodday,”shesaid,smilingingreeting.
“Goodmorning!”hesaid.“Youarehereearly.”
“Iwantedtoavoidthecrowds,”Elizasaidsimply.
“Iseeyouhavelocatedthisyear’smystery!”Mr.Berwicksaidjocularly,withanodtotheportrait.
“Ihave,”Elizanoted.
“Idon’tsupposeyouhaveanyguessesastotheartist?”Mr.Berwickasked.
Elizashookherhead.
“Itisaverygoodposition,”Mr.Berwicksaidenviously.“Thoughsometimestheyhavetogivesuchspotstothemoresimplisticportraits—theywouldbequitewashedoutwithanythingmorechallenging,yousee.”
“Idosee,”Elizasaid.“Andwhereisyourportrait,sir?”
“Oh,theygavemethelocationofmychoosing,thisyear,”Mr.Berwicksaidairily.“Itisbestviewedatanangle,yousee—somewherehighisessential.”
“Ofcourse,”Elizasaid,smiling.“Well,itwasgoodtoseeyou,Mr.Berwick—IhaveenjoyedseeinganotherBathface,here.”
“Iquiteagree,”hesaidwithabow.“Andnoneofyouthoughttowarnmeofyourarrival!IhadtoberateSomersetmostseverely…”
“Somerset?”Elizasaid,herattentionsharpening.“Ithoughthewasinthecountry.”
“No,no,”Mr.Berwicksaid,smilinggenially.“Isawhimjustanhourago—hewouldhavelikedtolingerandspeaklonger,Idaresay,buthehadanurgentmeetingatGrosvenorSquare—LadySomerset?”
ButEliza,withunpardonablerudeness,hadlefthissidemid-sentence.ShehadthoughtSomersetatHarefield.ShecouldnotbelievethatallthistimehehadbeeninlodgingsnotamileawayfromwhereElizahadbeen.
Hemusthaveheardshewasintown,musthaveknownwheretofindher.AndhehadsentsuchamissivebywayofMrs.Balfour,anyway.
TheserenitythatElizahadfoundthatmorninghadvanished.ShestalkedbackthroughtheroomsofSomersetHouse,outintothecourtyard,andbackintoherhackneycabinasteadilyclimbingrage.
Howdarehe!
Howdarehe.
“GrosvenorSquare,please!”shecalledtothedriver.“Andmakehaste!”32
Elizahadnotspentagreatdealoftimeinherlatehusband’sLondonhouse—theoldearl,asdidthenew,preferredcountrysideisolationtocityliveliness—butlessthanhalfanhourlatershedisembarkedinthegrandestsquareinallofLondon.Asshestoodinfrontofthegrand,toweringandterriblyausteretownhouse,Elizawasremindedofhowinadequatesheusedtofeelinside.Forthesecondtimethatday,Elizasquaredhershouldersandknocked.Theexpressionthatthefootmanmade,uponrecognizinghisoldmistress,approachedthecomical.
“Mylady!”hegasped.
“IsSomersetathome?”Elizademanded,walkingintotheentrancehall.
“Heishostingabreakfastparty,m-mylady,”hestammered.“H-hehasguests.”
“Wonderful!Informhim,willyou,thatIamhereanddesirousofhavingamomentofhistime?”
Thefootmanbowedandleft,reappearingminuteslaterwithBarns,theSomersetbutler.
“LadySomerset,”hesaid.“Thisisanunusualtimeforavisit.”
“AndyetI’msurewecancope,”Elizasaidbriskly,hervoice,foronemoment,soundingextraordinarilysimilartohermother’s.“Pleaseinformhislordshipofmypresence.”
Barnshesitated,left,thenreturnedafteronlyafewmoments.
“Hislordshipthanksyouforthevisit,andbegsthatyoureturnlater,asheiscurrentlyentertainingguests.”
“Youmayinformhislordshipthatherladyshipwillnotreturnlater,forshehasurgentbusinesstodiscussnow;infact,herladyshipwillverymuchgointoseehimatbreakfastifhislordshipdoesnotcomeoutnow,”Elizasaid,hersmilewideandinsincere.
Barnslookedatherandthen—briefly—toPardleatEliza’sshoulder,asifhopingtofindanallythere.Pardlereturnedhisgazewithabasiliskstare.
“MayIinviteyourladyshiptowaitinthelibrary,whileIdeliverthemessage?”Barnssaid,capitulating.
“Youmay,”Elizasaidgraciously.SheleftPardlewaitinginthehall.Thiswasnotameetingshewishedtobeobserved,evenbyher.
OnlyafewmomentsafterBarns’sdeparture,thelibrarydooropenedagainandSomersetstrodeinside.Elizahadbracedherselftofeelsomethingstiratthesightofhim,butthoughherheartdidbeatfaster,itwasfromangerratherthanheartbreak,andthissteadiedher.
“Eliza!”hesaid.“Imustaskyoutoreturnlater,Iaminthemiddleofhostingabreakfastpartyand—”
“Howdareyou?”Elizainterruptedhim.“Howdareyouwritetomyfather,toinformhimofyourplans,beforeyouwrotetome!Howdareyounotdeliversuchnewsyourself,whenyouhavebeeninLondonandmusthaveknownofmypresencehere,too—howdareyoutakemyfortunefromme?Iassureyou,mylord,Iearnedeverypennyofit.”
“How—”
Hetriedtointerrupther,angry,butshewasinfullflow.
“Youseektopunishmeforrejectingyoursuit.Iunderstand.Butispunishingme,issentencingmeinsuchaway—willthatgiveyouthesatisfactionyouseek?”
“Itis—itisnotaboutpunishment!”hebitoutangrily.“ThoughIwouldbewithinmyrightstofeelalittleanger,itisnotaboutthatatall—youwrongme!Thegallofyoutoaccusemeofsuchathing!”
“Youcastigatedmeonceforalackofspirit.Nowyourissueseemstobemyexcessofit,”Elizasaid.“ItseemsIcannotpleaseyou,nomatterwhatIdo.”
Hegrittedhisteeth.“Yourfortunewasgiventoyoubymyfamily,underconditionsthatyouhavefloutedextraordinarily—tosuchadegreethatIwonderthatyoushowyourfacehere!”
“HowhaveIfloutedit?”
“Onlyineverypossiblewayyoucould,Eliza,”Somersetsaid.“FlirtingwitheveryunattachedgentlemaninLondon—visitingallthemostinsalubriousvenuesinLondonwhileinhalf-mourning—dancingwithMelvillewhileyouwerestillwearingblack.”
ThisatlastbroughtElizaupshort.
“Whotoldyouthat?”shedemanded.
“Iseeyoudonotdenyit,”Somersetremarkedbitterly.“Youwereseen,Eliza,notthatyouseemedtocareafigforthatatthetime!Iwarnedyouthatyoucannotliveinaman’spocketwithoutsettingtonguestowagging.Yourreputationhasbeendarkeningbytheday,andyouweretoobusymooningoverMelvilletocare!”
“AndIwarnedyou,”Elizasaid.“WhatIshoulddo,whatIshouldtellpeople,ifyoutriedtotakemyfortunefromme.Howmightthetongueswag,oncetheyhearwhattheSelwynswereplottingtodo,mylord?”
Somersetlookedather,suddenlystill.
“Whowillbelieveyou?”hesaidquietly.“Eliza,youhavehungproofofyouraffairwithMelvilleinSomersetHousefortheworldtosee.Markingtheportraitas‘anonymous’willnotkeepitasecretforlong,markmywords.Therumormillisalreadybeginningtochurn,andoncethetruthisknown,noonewillthinkanyaspersionsyoucastatLadySelwynanythingmorethanspite.”
Elizastaredathim.“Howcanyoubesocruel?”shewhispered.
“Contrarytowhatyoumaythinkofme,Eliza,Ihavenotdonethistopunishyouforrejectingmyoffer,”Somersetsaidheavily.“Yourbehaviorhashadveryrealconsequencesuponmyfamily—uponme.”
“Whatconsequences?”
Hepaused.Thelookinhiseyes,asifhewereworkingouthowbesttosayit,asifheknewitwasgoingtohurtherandevennowwantedtoavoiddoingso…Elizaguessedwhathewasabouttosaybeforehesaidit.
“Ihavemadeanofferofmarriage,mylady.AndherparentsarereluctanttoacceptwhileyoudenigratetheSomersetname—theyareconcerned,andrightlyso,forthedirectionyoumighttakethefamily.”
“Youaretobemarried?”sheasked,slightlyshortofbreath.“Ithasbeenonlythreeweeks!”
“Imustmarrysomeone,Eliza,”Somersetsaid,castinghisarmsuphelplessly.“Andifnotyou,then…Sheiskind,andsweet,andIholdagreatdealofaffectionforher.Andherparentswillnotallowmysuituntilyourbehaviorisdealtwith.”
“Whoisshe?”
Hehesitatedagain.Elizafrowned.
“Iwillfindouteventually,”shesaid.“Youcannotexpecttokeepitasecret.”
“Mylord?”
Elizaturnedatthesoundofaquiet,timidvoice.
TheidentityofSomerset’sbreakfastguestsbecamesuddenly,horriblyclear.
“MissWinkworth!”Somersetstarted.
“Icouldnothelpbuthear,”MissWinkworthsaidsoftly,herheadpeekinginsidetheroom,onehandpressedagainstthewoodofthedoor.“Iwascomingthroughthehallandyouwerespeakingsoveryloudly.Goodmorning,LadySomerset—Ilikeyourdressagreatdeal.”
“Thankyou,”Elizasaidautomatically.Itwasthemostshehadeverheardthegirlspeak.
“Runalongbacktothediningroom,now.Ishallbeinpresently,”Somersetinstructedher,asifshewereaverysmallchild.MissWinkworthhesitated,hereyestravelingbetweenthem.
“Hurryback,”shewhispered.“Mymotherisabouttostartcritiquingmyposture,Iamsureofit.”
Shedimpledasmileupathimbeforemakinganobedientretreat,andSomersetvisiblymelted.
Elizastaredathim,open-mouthed.
“YouaremarryingMissWinkworth?”sheasked,tooconfusedtobeupset.“Howcanthatbe?”
“You,ofcourse,introducedusatyourdinnerparty…”Somersetbegan,seemingpainfullyawareoftheawkwardnessofsuchabeginning.“AndthenmysisterinvitedthemtoAnnie’sball,andwespokealittle,anddancedatAlmack’sthatweek,andsinceyou…sincewe…Wehavebecomemoreacquainted.”
Itwasastraditionalacourtshipasany.Astraditionalastheirshadbeen.Except…
“Oliver,sheissoyoung,”Elizabreathed.
Heflushed.
“Sheiswisebeyondheryears,”heretorted.“Sheknowswhatshewantsand…Sheisveryprecioustomealready—intime,lovewillgrow.”
Itseemedthattheappealoftheyoungandtimidwasafamilytrait.Foramoment,standingthereinhisfullmorningregalia,inthishouse,hisresemblancetohisunclewasveryapparent…
ButthenEliza’smind,whichhadverybrieflypaused,begantoturnagain.
“AndMrs.Winkworthsaidtheycannotaccept,unlessyouaddressmybehavior?”shesaidslowly.“Becauseshehatesme.”
“No,becausetheyareworriedfortheirdaughter,”heargued.
“Letmeassureyou,thatisnotso,”Elizasaid,withabitterlaugh.“YouarethefinestcatchinEngland—ofcourseMrs.Winkworthisnotgoingtorejectyoursuit!Sheismanipulatingyou,torevengeherselfuponme,fornotwritingherlettersofintroduction.”
“Revenge?”Somersetsnorted.“Youspeakofherasifsheisavillainfromamelodrama!”
“Shecertainlyseemedquitevillainous,”Elizaretorted,“plottingamatchbetweenWinnieandLordArden.”
“Arden?”Somerset’sjawdropped.“Surelyshecannothaveintended—”
“Oh,shedid,”Elizasaid.“Sheaskedmespecificallyforanintroduction,givenheisrelatedtoyourline.AndwhenIsuggestedsuchamatchmightbeunfairtoherdaughter,sheflewintoveryhighdudgeon.”
“Arden,though…SurelynotevenMrs.Winkworth…”Somersetsaid,thenoteofapprobationashesaidthislady’snamemakingveryclearhisopinion.
“Sheisquitecapableofit,”Elizasaid.“Youcannottellmeshehasnotbeenpursuingyourtitlemostassiduously?”
Somersetdidnotreply.
“OrthatMissWinkworthisnotentirelyterrifiedofher?”
“ThesoonerIhaveWinnieoutofherclawsthebetter,”Somersetmutteredinagreement.
HeeyedElizaconsideringly,hackleslowering.
“YoudidnottellmeaboutArden,”hesaidfinally.
“Youdidnottellmeyouhadatendreforthegirl,”Elizasaid,raisingherbrowsandhavingthesatisfactionofseeingSomersetflush.
“Yes,well,”hesaid.“JustbecauseyoumighthaveapointregardingMrs.Winkworth—itdoesnotmakeyourbehavioranymorehonorable.Doyoumeantocontinueparadingyourselfaroundthecity?”
“Ihavenotdecidedyet,”Elizasaidhonestly.
Shedidnotknowmuchofanythingaboutthefuture.
Somersetchuffedoutalaugh.
“Atleastyouarehonest,”hesaid.“Ifyou…modulateyourbehavior,perhapsIcanseemywaytopausingthisprocess.But…”Helookedather.“Eliza,youmustagreetocloseallcontactwithMelville.Icanfinditwithinmyselftoforgivemuch,butthatIcannotabide.Dowehaveanagreement?”
Elizaranherteethacrossherbottomlip.Itwasthemostconciliatoryoffershewaslikelytoreceivefromhim.AndhadthepreviousnightnotprovedthatsheandMelvillehadnofuturetogether,anyway?Butyet…Wasshereallytoallowanymantomakesuchdemandsofher,anymore?Allowherlifetobeordained,inperpetuity,bytheirhigh-handedjudgmentsorcapriciousmoods?
“No,wedonothaveanagreement,mylord,”Elizasaid,gently.
Itwasfoolish.Itwasreckless.Itwasnecessary.
“IcannotallowwhatIwant—orwhoIwant—tobedictatedtome,”shecontinued.“AndifmyfortuneisthepriceIhavetopayforsuchfreedom,thenIwillpayit.”
Somersetgapedather.
“Goodbye,then,”Elizasaid,gatheringupherskirtsinherhands.Shetookonelastlookathim,onelastlonglook.Partofherwouldalwayslovehim,sheknew.Theyhadbeentoomuchpartofeachother’sstories,fortoolong,forallthatlovetodisappear.Theirrootswouldalwaysbealittletangled.ButElizawouldhavehadtogiveuptoomuchtobewithhim.Andshecouldnotdothatanymore.
Shewalkedtowardthedoor.Asshereachedit,shepaused.
“Bekindtoher,Oliver,”shesaid,withoutturning.“Sheisveryyoung,andwhosheis…mayyetchange.”33
Elizafeltdisjointed,onthejourneybacktoRussellSquare.Thethreadstyinghertonormalcyhadbeencutagain,byherselfthistime,andthoughtheworldaroundlookedthesameasithaddoneminutesbefore,everythingwasdifferent.ElizawasrichLadySomersetnolonger.Itwasdone.Therewasnogoingbackandshedidnotwantto—buthowwasshetoproceedfromhere?Shestillhadfivehundredpoundsayeartohername—herjointurecouldnotbetakenawayfromher,andthatwassomething.Itwassufficient,atleast,torentasmallhouse,andpayforheressentialexpenses,thoughthelifeshehadsomuchenjoyedoflate,ofcarelessexpenditureandnewdressesandshiningcarriagehorses,wouldbebehindher.
Perhapsshecouldsetherselfupasaportraitist—earnaliving,assomegentlemendid?Elizabitherlip.Shewouldnotknowwheretobegin.Ishouldthinkyouperfectlyabletomeetsuchchallenges,Melvillehadsaidtoheronce,andthoughthemerethoughtofMelvillehadarushofbitterangerrisingupwithinher,Elizastillfoundherselfsittingalittlestraighter.Shecoulddoit.Shecould—shewould—doitall.
WhateverserenityElizahadachievedbythetimeshewalkedintothebreakfastroomofRussellSquarewasshatteredimmediatelybyLadyHurley.
“Oh,LadySomerset,thankgoodnessyouarehome!”shemoaned,jumpingupfromherseattowringEliza’shands.
“Whateveristhematter?”Elizaasked.
“ItisMissBalfour,”LadyHurleysaid,loweringhervoiceasamaidenteredwithatray.“Shedidnotarrivehomelastnight.”
Foramoment,Elizawassureshehadmisheard.
“Fromthemasquerade?”shesaidfaintly.“No,no!Shewastoaccompanyyouhomeinthecarriage.”
ButLadyHurleywasshakingherhead,andElizafeltherheartbegintopound,sickeningly.
“Weleftbeforeher—shesaidshewouldbeescortedbyLadyCarolineoncethedancinghadfinished,”LadyHurleysaidmiserably.“Butherbedwasnotsleptin.”
“YouleftherwithCaroline?”Elizademanded.“Doessheknowwhere…?”
“IdonotknowwheretheMelvillehouseis,”shesaid.“AndIcannotverywellfindoutwithoutallsortsofquestions.”
“Havethecarriagebroughtaround,”Elizainterrupted,notcaringifitwasrude,anddashedupthestairsbeforeLadyHurleycouldreply.
Therewasnothingtoworryover.MargarethadbeenwithCaroline,andCarolinewouldnotletanythinghappentoher.Thiswasallasimplemisunderstanding.Somethingtheywouldlaughaboutinyearstocome,shewascertain.
ElizapushedopenthedoortoMargaret’sbedchamber,hastenedovertothewritingdesk,andbeganrifflingthroughit.ShediscardedanotefromMargaret’smotherandatheaterprogramand—there!Caroline’shandwriting—and,atthetopofthebillet,theiraddress.BerkeleySquare!ShedashedbackdownthestairsandpastLadyHurley,whowaswringingherhandsintheentrancehall.
“Ishan’tbelong!”shecalledoverhershoulderandleaptintothecarriage,calling,“BerkeleySquare!”tothedriver,willinghimtogoasfastaspossible.
Ioughtnothaveleftherthere.ThiswasnotBath,whereeverypersonwasanacquaintance,everylocaleonlyastone’sthrowawayfromtheirhome,andeveryeventassafeashouses.ItwasLondon,andeventhoughMargaretwasgoingtobeallright—certainly,shewouldbeallright—still,Elizaoughtnevertohavelefther.
ElizaveritablyhammeredupontheMelvilles’doortobegreetedwiththesecondbaffledbutlerofthemorning.
“Iamafraid,”thebutlersaid,“thatmyladyistakingbreakfast—andnotyetacceptingvisitors.”
ButbynowElizawasquiteaufaitwithforcingherselfintohomes.ShecouldhearCarolinelaughingsomewhereclose.
“Shewillacceptme,”shedeclared,duckingunderthebutler’sarmandpushingthedooropen.
“Mylady!”thebutleryelped,scramblingafterher.“Mylady!”
Elizahadalreadywalkedinside,takingtwohastystepsintotheroomand—
“Oh,thankgoodness,”shebreathed.
FortherewasMargaret,sittingnexttoLadyCarolineatthebreakfasttable,sippingatacupandleafingthroughabroadsheet.Neitherladywasyetfullydressedfortheday;theywereinsteadbothwearingverymodishdressinggowns—hadElizanotbeensodreadfullyrelieved,shemighthaveblushed.
“Goodmorning,Eliza,”Margaretsaid.“Ididnotknowwewereexpectingyouthismorning.”
“Wewerenot,”Carolinesaid.“Howawfullymodern,tobargeinunannounced.”
Hervoicewasjustaslanguorouslyamusedasusual,buttodaytheeffectwasquitedifferentforthecurveofherlipswasfarsofter,hereyeswerebrighter—andMargaret,nexttoher,wassmilingsoharditlookedasifithurt.
“AnearlyFrenchlesson?”Elizasaid,fallingintoachairwithoutasking,andlayingatremblinghandtoherbrow.
Itwasallright.Shewasallright.
“Ofasort,”Margaretsaid,cheerily.
“Didyounotthinkanotemighthavebeenconsiderate?”Elizademanded.“Iwashalfwaytothinkingyoumurdered!”
“Suchdramaticssoearlyintheday,”Carolinemurmuredintoherchocolate.
“Iwasn’tthinking,”Margaretsaid—inexplanationratherthanapology.“Astrategythathasservedmeratherwell.”
CarolinebrushedherfingerssoftlyoverMargaret’swrist.Elizasatup.Shehadintrudedenough.
“IwillletLadyHurleyknowshemayresteasy,”shesaid.“Thatthehourwastoolatetowakethehousehold—or—orsomething.”
“Oh,sendanoteandstaytobreakfast,”Margaretentreatedher.“Thereisfartoomuchforjustustoeat.”
Itwastempting,forElizahadbeenawakeforhoursnow,andtherepastwasahandsomeone—softbreadrollsandseveralfragrantmeatdishesElizadidnotrecognize—butnowthepanichadfaded,herhearthadquietened,andherhandswerenolongerquiteasclammy,shewascognizantthatMelvillemightappearatanymoment.WhenshewasworriedforMargaret’ssafety,suchanencounterofcoursedidnotweighwithher,butnowMargaretwasdemonstrablymorewellthanElizahadeverseenher,Elizawouldratheravoidit.Thedayhadbeenfullenoughalready.
“Heisnothere,”Carolinesaid,readingthedirectionofEliza’sthoughtsexactly.
“Oh?”Elizasaid,muchrelieved.Muchrelievedandyetalso,somehow,thetiniestbitdisappointed—whichwasexactlywhysheneededtoleavenow,becauseeventobeherewastofeelconfused.
“HeleftforRussellSquareonlyafewmomentsbeforeyouarrived,”Carolinesaid.
“Tospeaktoyou,”Margaretadded,asifthiswasnotclearenough.
Eliza’sbreathtriedtocatch—shewouldnotletit.
“Wehavealreadyspokenatlength,lastnight,”shesaidstoutly.“Thereisnothingfurthertodiscuss.”
“Ifyousayso,”Margaretsaiddubiously.“IshallseeyouatRussellSquareanon.”
Elizaslippedpastthebutleralittlesheepishly—hewasstandingguardatthebottomofstairsasifconcernedshemightchancearobbery—andoutontothestreet.LadyHurley’sdriverhaddisembarkedfromthecarriagetoconferwithoneofthefootmenacrossthestreet,and,catchingsightofEliza,hehastenedbacktowardher,justasacurriclecameclatteringaroundthecorner,drawnbyapairofprancinggreys,anddrivenbyMelville.
“Letusleavenow,quickly,”Elizacalledtothedriver,holdingoutanarmexpectantlytohim—thestepstothecarriageweretoohighforhertoreachalone
Melvillepulledtoanabruptstopaheadofherandleaptdown.Hewaswearingnohat,andinhishandwasclaspedasealedbillet.
“Mylady,”hesaidbreathlessly.“IhavejustcomefromRussellSquare.”
“Congratulations,”Elizasaid.“Iamjustgoingthere.”
“MayIescortyou?”
“Ialreadyhaveacarriage.”
Melvilletookahurriedstepforward.Helookeddrawn,tiredand—thoughhiscapeddrivingcoat,Hessianbootsandbuckskinswereallveryfine—alittledisheveled,forhisneckclothwasloosenedasifhehadbeentugginguponit.This,however,inspiredirritationratherthansympathyinEliza;whenshehadnotsleptwell,sheappeareddrawnandjaundiced,anditwasunjustthatMelvilleinfatigueshouldremainsoappealing
“Eliza—”hesaidquietly.
“LadySomerset,”shecorrected.
“LadySomerset,”heagreed.“Ionlywishtoapologize.”
“Yourapologydidnotgowellyesterday,”Elizapointedout.
Melvillewinced.
“Ibehavedabominably,”Melvillesaid.“Ionlywishtospeakwithyou—withnoexpectationofforgiveness—andIcomewithhatinhand.”
Eliza’seyesflickeduptoMelville’sbarehead.
“Metaphoricalhat,”headded,withthetiniestofsmiles—andElizascowled.Shewouldnotbeappeasedbyhumorouschatterandabecomingappearance.Shewasnotsoeasilymanipulated,anymore.
“Iwouldhaverefusedtoseeyou,hadIbeenhome,”shesaid.
“Iexpectedasmuch,”Melvillereplied.“ItiswhyIwrotealetter,too.”
Heheldoutthebillet.Elizadidnottakeit.Sheknewwellwhatabeautifulwriterhewas;nogoodcouldcomeofreadingsuchaletter.Melvillelethishanddrop.
“LadySomerset—please,couldIjustescortyoubacktoRussellSquare?”
Elizasighed,fiddlingwiththebuttonsonherpelisse.Shewassotired,but…Afterallthebraveryofthismorning,wasthistobethemomentshequailed?Elizanoddedwithoutlookingup.ShesparedamomenttoinformLadyHurley’sdriverofherintention,biddinghimtellhismistressthatallwaswell,beforeacceptingahandupintothecurriclewithoutfurtherwords.
“Wouldyouliketodrive,orshallI?”Melvilleasked,verypolitely.
“Theyareyourhorses,”Elizasaid.
“Sotheyare,”Melvilleagreed.
Hesetthemoffatabriskpace.Melvilleinhaledsharplyasifhewereabouttobeginspeaking,paused—subsidedforamoment—andthenbeganagain.
“Ioweyou…manyapologies,”hesaid.“Lastnight,Iwassoafraidyoumightrunoffatanymoment,thatIbecameovercomewithasenseofhaste.Ofcourse,ofcourse,youmaydemandofmeanyquestionyouwish.”
ElizaeyedMelvillenarrowly.Hiswordsweretoofluent.
“Ihavebreachedyourtrust.Imustearnitback,”headdedwhenshestilldidnotspeak.
“Whohasknockedsuchsenseintoyou?”Elizaasked.
“Ah—Caro,”Melvillesaid.“ThenMargaret.ThenCaroagain.”
Elizasnorted.
“Andareyoumerelyrepeatinglinestheyhavefedyou?”
“No,no!”Melvillesaid.“ItishowIfeel:Iwantyoutoaskmewhateveryouneed.”
Elizapressedherhandstoherface.Itwasfarmoredifficulttoremainangrywithacalm,humbledMelville,andifElizacouldnotholdontoheranger,thenshewouldinsteadhavetobedreadfullyafraid.Shecouldnotbeartofeelanyofherhurtrenewed.Itwasalreadypainfulenough.
“Itdoesnothavetobenow,”Melvillesaid,astheydrewontoRussellSquareandheslowedhishorses.
“Oh,butitmightaswellbe,”Elizasaid,facestillhalf-hidden.Itwaspointless—trulypointless—fortorepairevenafriendshiponsorottenasetoffoundationswasinconceivable,butMelvillewouldplainlynotceaseuntiltheyhadlainthewholetorest.Itwouldatleast,surely,sparethemfromhavingtorevisittheconversationyetanothertime.
“PerhapsnotquitethespiritIwasafter,”Melvillemurmured,unabletopreventhimselffromfunningevennow,butheturnedthehorsesobedientlyandheadedinsteadforHydePark.
“Everythingyoutoldme,”Elizasaid,“aboutmytalent—aboutyouradmirationforme…Didyoumeanit?”
“Idid,”Melvillesaid,joltedbackintoseriousness.“Ido.Whatyouhavebeenabletoachieve,evenintheshorttimewehaveknowneachother?Ithinkitglorious.AndIdon’tjustmeantheportrait.”
Elizagavealittlejerkofthehead—notquiteanod,notquiteashake.
“Anddidyou…didyoutelltheSelwynsabouttheportrait?”sheasked.
Shewasnotsurewhythismatteredso—theideathatwhileshehadbelievedthisasecretsharedbetweenherandMelville,LadySelwynmighthavebeensmirkingandawarethewholetime—onlythatitdid.Therewasabeatofsilenceinthecarriage.ElizaregardedthesideofMelville’sface.Ifhetriedtosellheronaprettyuntruth,thenshewouldknow.
“Iwasgoingto,”Melvillesaid,slowly.“Icannotpretendotherwise,Iwasgoingto.ButIdidnot.Itfelttoomuchabetrayal.”
Itwouldhavebeen.Elizaletoutaslowbreath.Theimageplayinginhermind’seye,oftheSelwynsandMelvillecloistered,sniggering,together,fadedalittle—asoilpaintsdid,underdirectsunlight.
“Yousaidyoulovedme,”shewhispered,sosoftlyshecouldbarelyhearherselfovertherattlingofwheelsandhooves.
“Yes,”hesaid.
“Didyoumeanit?”
“Yes.”
“Whendidyou…whendidthatbegin?”sheasked.
“Idonotknowthattherewasonesinglemoment,”Melvillesaidsoftly.“Iwasdrawntoyoufromnearthemomentwemet.Thatwasneveralie.YouweresoguardedandIwantedtoknowyou.Tofindoutwhatyouthought—whatyouwanted—underallthatproprietyandcarefulness.”
Elizacouldnothavetornhereyesawayfromhimifshehadtried.Shedidnottry.
“Ittookmeawhiletounderstand.ItwasfartooeasytolaythecauseattheSelwynscheme’sdoorstep,butIbegantorealizethat—thatitwasyoureyeIwantedtocatch,whensomethingamusingoccurs;youropinionIwantedtohear,always.It’swithyouIwanttoshareallmysecrets,youIwantedtowalkwith,sitbeside,dancewith,”Melvillecontinued.“Itwasalwaysyou—bigandsmall—andthehourswespenttogether,inthattinyparlor,areamongstthehappiestofmylife.”
Helookedathersidelong.
“Doesthatanswerit?”
Anditdid,but…Elizawasnotsureitwasenough.
“Iwanttobelieveyou,”Elizawhispered,hereyesfull.“Ijust…don’tknowhow.”
“WhatifItellyouagain?Howevermanytimesyouneedtohearit.”
“DifficulttodofromParis,”Elizanoted,swipingahandacrossherface.
“IamnotgoingtoParis,”Melvillesaid.
“Youarenot?”
“HowcouldI—whenyouarehere?”
Eliza’sbreathcaught.Hewassayingeverythingshemostwantedtohear—everythingthatshehadnotknownsheneededtohear,too.
“Ihavenofortunenow,”shesaid,becausepartofher,evennow,stillwonderedifthiswaswhy.“Somersethastakenitaway.”
“Hehas?”Melvilledemanded.“Why?”
“Thegossip,therumors—someonesawusdancing,”Elizasaid.“AndIhavenotbeenwell-behaved,thisfortnight.”
“Ishallgotohim.Ishallmakehimseeitisallmyfault,”Melvillesaidatonce.
“Ialreadyhave,”Elizasaid.“Hesaidhewouldrestoreit,ifIpromisedtorelinquishalltiestoyou.ItoldhimIwouldnot.”
Melvillepulledhishorsestoanabruptstop,inthemiddleofHydePark.
“Eliza…”hesaid,ratherwonderingly.Hedidnotsounddismayed,orunsettledoralarmed.Hewaslookingatherasifshehadjustofferedhimthemostpreciousgiftintheworld.
“Itwasnotforyou,”shesaid.“Itwasformyfreedom—myindependence—myself.”
“Andbravaindeed,”hesaid.“But…wasitforme,justalittle?”
Elizastaredathim.Hewasverystill,hardlylookedtobebreathing.Shehadthatfeelingagain,ofstandinguponaprecipice,ofmakingadecisionthatwouldaffectallthatcameafter.Itwasherstomake,hersentirely.
“Yes,”shewhispered,herheartbeatingsoloudlyitalmostdrownedouthervoice.
“Oh,thankGod!”hesaid.“Ihadthought,afterlastnight,therewasnohopeatall.”
“SodidI,”sheadmitted.
Hedroppedthereinstoreachforher.
“WouldyouthinkmetheworstbrutealiveifIsaidIwasgladthatyourfortuneisgone?”Melvillesaid,squeezingherhandsbetweenhis.
“No,”shewhispered,throatconstricted.“Butitmightmakeyoutheworstfortunehunterinhistory.”
Shesmiled,tremulously,toshowshewasjoking.
“Impossible,”Melvillesaid.“IamtheverybestineverythingIdo.”
ThecurlinMelville’smouthwasback.Elizahadmissedit.
“PerhapsitisaverygoodthingIwasnotpaintingyourego,”Elizasaid.“Itwouldneverhavefitteduponthecanvas.”
Melvillelaughed,louderthanthejokewarranted.
“Marryme,youdarlingthing,”hesaid.
“Ihaveonlyfivehundredpoundsayeartomyname,now,”Elizawarnedhim.
“Idon’tgiveaflyingfig,”Melvillesaid,eyessearchinghers.“Marryme.”
“Weshallbedreadfullypurse-pinched,”Elizasaid.
“Wearetwoofthemostextraordinarilyclever,talentedandbeautifulpeopleIknow,”Melvillesaid.“Iamconfidentweshallfindawaythrough.Marryme.”
“Verywell,”Elizasaid.
“Verywell?”Melvillerepeated,grinning.HeletgoofherhandstograspatthereinsagainandsetthehorsesoffatarollickingpacethathadElizagraspingforherbonnet.
“Wherearewegoing?”sheasked,laughing.
“Ihavesomewhereinmind,don’tworry,”hesaid.“Somewhereoutofviewofanygawpers.”
“Areyoutakingmetoyourassignationspot?”shesaidindignantly.
“ItiseitherthatorIdon’tkissyou,soIamnotquitesurewhatyouexpectfromme,”hesaid.
“Howmanywomenhaveyoutakenthere?”shedemanded.
“Ah—Ishouldprefernottosay,”hesaid,drawingupbetweentwotrees,inaprivatelittlecopse.“ThoughIassureyou,youaretheonlyoneofthemIhaveproposedmarriageto.”
“Melville!”shesaid,halflaughing,halfberating.
“Thatisnotmyname,”hesaid,takingherhandsinhis,andtuggingherverygentlyacrosstheseattowardhim.
“Max,”Elizasaid,shyly.
Hegraspedherheadgentlyinhishands.
“Iamgoingtodomyverybest,”hesaid,“tomakeyouthehappiestwomanalive.”
“Thatsoundsalittleunrealistic,”Elizasaid.
“HaveyounotheardthatIamwidelyconsideredbrilliant?”hesaid,brushinghisthumbacrossherbottomlipverygently.
“Ah,butthatisscurrilousgossip,nomore,”Elizasaid.“Youshouldnotbelieveeverythingyouhear,mylord.”
Theywerelaughingwhentheykissed—shecouldfeeltheshapeofhissmileagainsthersandsmiledwiderstill,toohappytocarethatshewashinderingratherthanhelpingtheendeavor.ButthenMelvillepressedahandtoherjawandtiltedherheadtotheleftandpartedhislipsand—
Well,agreatmanythingsfeltmoreimportantthantalking,afterthat.34
ElizaleftBathforthefinaltimeonaTuesday.Andalthoughitwasforthehappiestofreasons,thebrightpinkofEliza’sjoywasstillcoloredalittlebybittersweetblue.Fortoday,whileshewasremovingtoLondonwithPerkinsandtherestoftheirhousehold,Margaretwasnotaccompanyingher.
ButnorwasshereturningtoBedfordshire.
“IhavetoldMamaandLaviniaIwillnot,”shehadtoldEliza,twistingherfingersanxiouslytogether.“Theyareappalled—theysaytheyintendtoneverspeaktomeagain.ButIcannotdenymyselfalifeanylonger.IamgoingtojoinCarolineinParis.”
“Howwillyou…?”Elizahadasked,notknowingquitehowtophrasethequestion.
“Thosewetrust,willknowthetruth,”Margaretsaid.“Thosewedonot,willsuspectusonlytobecompanions.IshallhavetoallowCarolinetosupportme—shehassoldtherightstoHollandHouseforagoodenoughsumandasfortherest…weshallfindout.”
Margarettookadeep,steadyingbreathandsmiled.
“Iamexcited,”sheadmitted.“Evenwiththesecrecy,itisafarsweeterfuturethanIeverdreamedof.”
Elizahadnotbeenabletospeakforamoment,pullingMargaretinsteadintoasilentembrace.Shewassohappyforher—soabsolutely,breathtakinglyhappyforher—butatthesametimeshecouldnotimaginebeingabletosurviveasingledaywithouther.
“Howlongdoyoumeantobeawayfor?”shesaidintoMargaret’sshoulder.
“Oh,themerestmoment,”Margaretsaid.“Itwillbethemosttriflingofintervalsinourstory,youknow—andwhenIreturn,wewillbeginournextandmostexcitingActyet.”
“Itistobeaverylongplay,then,”Elizasaid,voicewobbling.
“Oh,thelongest,”Margaretsaid.“Wearefarfromdone.”
Elizapulledback,swipingherfingersunderhereyelidstocatchastraytear.
“YouwillhavethemostwonderfuladventurewithCaroline,Iamsureofit,”shesaid.“Itwillbemarvelous.”
“AswillLondon,”Margaretsaid,pressingherhand.“Infact,IverymuchpredictthatLadyMelvilleistobecomealltherage.”
Elizasmiled.ShewasnotLadyMelvilleyet,butsoon,shehoped.Verysoon.SincethatmagicalhourinHydePark,notadayhadgonebywithoutMelvilleappearingatRussellSquare.Theverynextmorning,hehadescortedElizatoSomersetHousetotakeintheviewoftheportraitasecondtime—oncemoreearlyenoughthattheywerenotlikelytobemuchobservedandMelvillemobbedbyladiesrequestinghissignature.
“Itlooksverygood,”Melvillesaid,lookingupathimself.“Ifthatisnotveryvaintosay.”
“You,vain?”Elizasaid.“Surelynot.”
“Youneverchargedmeforthecommission,youknow,”Melvillesaid,grinning.“Howmuchisit?”
Elizapretendedtoconsider.
“Wouldtenthousandpoundsayearsuit?”sheasked.
“AlittlesteeperthanIwasexpecting,”Melvillesaid.“And—mayIask—isitusualtochargeinyearlyinstalments?”
“Itisperhapsbetterconsideredarentalthanapurchase,”sheadvised.
Helaughed.
“Ishallhavetoreferyoutomywife,”hesaid,stillgrinning.“Iamreliablyinformedsheistobeafamousportraitist,andsoonrichenoughtokeepmypoorfortune-huntingsoulinthemannerIamnotyet—thoughdearlywishtobe—accustomed.”
“Yourwife?”Elizasaid,raisinghereyebrows.“Ididnotrealizeyouhadone,mylord.”
“Thematterisstillpending,”Melvilleadmitted.
“Pending?”Elizasaid.“Yououghtreallytoresolvethat.”
“Iintendto,”hepromised.
Theyswayedtowardoneanother,beforeabruptlyrecollectingtheywerestillverymuchinpublic,andstillverymuchnotmarried.
Melvilleclearedhisthroatandturnedbacktofacehimself.
“Idowishyouwouldnotkeepattemptingtoleadmeastray,”hesaidprimly.“IshallhaveyouknowIamnotthatsortofearl.”
“Apity,”Elizasaid.“ForIwashopingyouwereexactlythatsortofearl.”
Melvillelaughed.Afewpersonsbegantotrickleintotheroom,andmanydidindeedmakeabeelineforMelville’sportraitspecifically,atwhichpointMelvilleretreatedsothathemightnotbeobserved.Elizalistened,again,astheaudiencediscussedallthelatesttheoriesontheidentityoftheartist.Itwasallwomen’snamesintheringnow,andElizaknewbetterthantothinkthismarkedprogressfortherespectofhergender’sartistry—therumorswerecirclingclosertoher,anditwouldonlybeamatteroftime,now,beforeEliza’snamewasattached.Shedidnotcare.
Perhapsshewouldevenbreakthenewstotheton,herself,tolaunchanewcareer.Whateverscandalitconstituted,itwouldsurelybelessenedbyherandMelville’smarriage—onecouldnotcastigatealadyforhavinganaffairwithherownhusband,surely?Andevenifitwasnot,shehadeverythingsheneeded,righthere,tobeabletoweathersuchstorms.Thatdidnotscareher,notanymore.
“Ihavealreadyhadseveraloffersfromengravers,”Melvillesaidquietly,returningtoEliza’ssideasthegroupmovedoff,“whowishtobeabletocopyanddistributetheimage—andthepublishersofmyalreadyprintedtitleswilllikelypaytoreproduce,evenifPauletdisapproves.Itshouldconstituteasolidsourceofcapital.”
Elizanodded.
“Iwillpawnmydiamonds,”shewhisperedback.“Sellthephaeton,tohiresomepaintingrooms…”
“WecanselltheBerkeleySquarehouse—findsmallerlodgings,”Melvilleadded.“LetAlderleyagainforthesummer…”
Thetonwoulddiscussthem,gossip,snickerattheirmisfortune—butthatdidnotscareher,either.Elizafeltasgiddyandaseagerasiftheywerediscussingtheirhoneymoon,nottheirforthcomingfrugality.
“Wewillmanage,”shesaidwithaferventnod.
“Wewillmanagebeautifully,”Melvillecorrected.
Economyandprudencehadneverbeensoromantic.Andnow,therewasonlyforElizaandMargarettopackupCamdenPlace.IncontrasttotheeasymannerinwhichtheyhadleftHarefield,thisseemedataskthattookagreatdealmoretimeandconsideration,forinthethreemonthstheyhadlivedinBath,allmembersofthehouseseemedtohaveaccumulatedavastnumberofpossessions.Intheend,theyhadtohiretwowholepostchaisesinordertotransporteverything,forElizawastocareforMargaret’spossessionswhileshewasabroad—andittookthebetterpartofawholedayforthefootmentoloadthetrunks.
ItwasasshewasdirectingtheremovaloftheeaselthatPerkinstoldher,quietly,thattheyhadavisitor—onehehadtakenthelibertyofshowingintothedrawingroom.ElizahadwalkeddownstairsandpushedopenthedoortofindMissWinkworthstandingwithin—avisioninpalecambric,trailingherfingersthoughtfullyoverthekeysofthepianoforte.
“MissWinkworth,”Elizasaid,agreatdealsurprised.“IhadthoughtyoustillinLondon!”
MissWinkworthlookedup.
“IaskedMamaifwecouldbreakourjourneyinBath,”shesaid.“Tomorrow,weareboundforHarefield,forthe…”
“Wedding,”Elizafinishedforher.Theannouncementhadbeenmadeinthepaperslastweek.“Yes.Iamsorrytonotbeabletoattend.”
MissWinkworthsmiled,gently,asifsheknewthistobealie.
“Iknowthatyourefusedtohelpmymother,”shewhispered.“Iheardwhatyousaidtoher,aboutArden.”
ShesentElizaadimplingsmile.
“ShewasangrierthanIhaveeverseenher,”sheconfessed,andtheprospectdidnotseemtofrightenherasitoncehad.
“IwishIcouldhavedonemore,”Elizasaidtruthfully.ShelookedatMissWinkworth.ItwouldhavebeenindelicatetoenquireafterherattachmenttoSomersetevenifsheherselfhadnotalreadybeenromanticallyattachedtothegentleman,but…
“Ihope,”Elizasaid,“thatyouhavebeenabletoformagenuineattachment,duringyourtimeinLondon?”
MissWinkworth’srosyblushtoldhersheunderstoodEliza’smeaning.
“Ihave,”shesaidsimply.
Elizanodded.Theywerewell-matched,shesawsuddenly,MissWinkworthandSomerset,WinnieandOliver.Heneededsomeonetoprotect,andsheneededprotection.Hederivedvaluefromcaring,andshefrombeingcaredfor.Theywouldbehappy
“IhavetoldSomersetheisnottocontestyourfortune,”MissWinkworthsaidsoftly.
“Youdidwhat?”Elizasaid,unsureifshehadheardcorrectly.“YoutoldSomerset?”
“Idonotliketodisagreewithhim,ever.Butyouhavebeensokindtome,andIfelttooguiltytostaysilent,”MissWinkworthsaid,pullingalittlefaceasifshecouldstillnotbelievehereffrontery.
“Guilty?”Elizarepeated.“Whyoughtyou…”
“BecauseitwasIwhotoldhim,aboutyoudancingwithMelville,”shesaid,headdippingdown.“Isawyou,thatnight,andIdidnotsayanything,forweeks…Butafteryourfallingout,whenheandIbegantocourt…”
Shetrailedoff,herfacegrowingeverpinker.
“Iwantedhim,yousee,”shesaid.“Ineededhimtofalloutoflovewithyou,alittle.”
Elizastaredather,alittleaghast.Shedidnotknowwhattosay.Shewouldneverhaveexpectedanyofthisfromsuchamouse.
“Youcertainlyachievedthat,”shesaid,mouthdryandmindreeling.Itwasnotthatthiswouldchangeanything—notthatshewouldwishanything,intheend,hadunraveleddifferently,but…
“Somersethasagreedtoleaveyourfortuneasis,”MissWinkworthsaid.“Ihadtomakemyselflookverysadforawhile—andmymotherisnothappy—butheagreed.”
“YouarefarslyerthanIthoughtyou,”Elizasaidslowly,andMissWinkworthgaveanadorable,impishsmile.“Thankyou,Ithink—yes,thankyou.”
ForwhateverMissWinkworth’smotives,thiswasagiftindeed.Shewouldbeabletoretainherstaff,MelvillecouldpublishMedea,theycouldkeepBerkeleySquare,shewouldnothavetosellherpossessionsand—and…
AsElizabegantothinkofallthemany,manywaysherlifewastobesomuchlesstroubledthanshehadpreparedfor,herbreathcaughtonagasp.Shewouldhavebeenallright,withoutthefortune.Shewouldhavebeen.Buttobeofferedsuchanunexpectedreprieve…
“Thankyou,”shesaidagain.
“Youknow,”MissWinkworthsaid,“thewordinginthewillseemstomeratherspecificinanyevent.Iwonder,ifyounolongerbelongedtotheSomersetfamily,theclausemightbecome…alittlevoid?”
Elizafeltcertain,foramoment,thatshecouldseetheshadesofthewomanWinifredWinkworthwouldbecomeinherface.Shewoulddowell,asthenewCountessofSomerset.FarebetterthanElizahaddone.FindstrengththatithadtakenElizauntilnowtocultivate.
“IsthereanythingelseImightdoforyou?”MissWinkworthasked.
“Icouldnotaskforanythingmore,”Elizasaid,halflaughing.“I—”Shepaused.“Actually—thelandscapeinthefirst-floorparlorofHarefield…ItwaspaintedbymygrandfatherandIwouldliketobuyit.Youmaynameyourprice.”
Shecouldcertainlyaffordit,now—again.MissWinkworthnodded,dimpling.
“Goodday,LadySomerset.”
Shebobbedheralittlecurtseyandfloatedaway.
???
Lessofalamb,andmoreofalion,”Margaretsaid,whenElizatoldher,CarolineandMelvillelaterthatdaybutEliza’seyeswereonMelville.Hesmiled.
“IcantakeyoutoAlderley,”hesaid,pleased—asifthenewswasnomorelife-changingthanthat.Elizasupposeditwasnot.Fortheycouldhavedoneit,withoutthefortune,together,andneitherwouldmoneyremoveallthehardshipahead.Eliza’schoiceinahusbandwouldnotbegreetedwithunequivocalapproval:attheveryleast,alifetimeofstaresandwhispersawaitedthem,andElizasuspectedtheBalfours’displeasureatthepathssheandMargarethadchosen—atthepersonswithwhotheywerealigning—wouldbefarmorevocal.
“Andatleastwewillbewell-dressed,”Melvillemurmured,asifindirectresponsetoEliza’sthoughts.Shesmiled,twiningherfingersthroughhisandsqueezinghishandinreply.
“Wemustgo,”Carolinesaidgently.
CamdenandLauraPlacewerebothempty.Twocarriagesstoodoutside,loadedwithbandboxes.OnewasboundforLondon,theotherforDover.
“Ishallmissyou,Caro,”Melvillesaid,graspingherhandtightly.
“Ishouldhopeso,”Carolinesaid,butshetouchedherforeheadverygentlytohisshoulder.
Themomentfeltunbearablyprivate.ElizaandMargaretdrewalittleaway.
“Ishan’tsaygoodbyeagain,”Margaretsaidstoutly.“Idonotwishmyeyestobepuffyforthejourney—butyouwillwrite?”
Elizanodded,herchinwobbling.SheheldoutherhandforCarolinetoshake,assheapproached,andCarolineknockeditawaywithasnort,pullingherinsteadintoatightembrace.
“Lookafterhimforme,willyou?”shewhisperedintoEliza’sear.
“Ifyouwilldothesame,”Elizawhisperedback.
Andtheyweregone.LeavingElizaandMelvillealone,atlast.Melvilleturnedtoher,givinganextravagantbowandasuperfluousflourishofhishand.
“Yourcarriageawaits,”hesaid.“Ihavepreparedagreatmanythingstosaytoyouonthejourney.”
“WhyamIinstantlyconcerned?”Elizasaid,smiling.“Idohopetheyarenotimproper.”
“Howcantheybe,whenwearetobeveryproperlychaperonedfortheentirejourney?”Melvillesaidloudlytothestreetatlarge,throwingElizaaveryobviouswink.
Theysetoffnottenminuteslater,andElizaleanedoutofthecarriagewindowtowatchCamdenPlaceasitfadedfromview.Ithadbeenthefirstplaceshehadeverbeentruly,completely,incandescentlyhappy.Butlikeallthebestthingsinlife,onecouldnotenjoytheminjustthesameway,forever.
Iwillcomeback,shepromisedBath.Soon.
Itwouldalwaysbethemostsplendidcityshehadeverseen.
“WouldyoupreferSt.Paul’sorSt.Mary’s,forourwedding?”Melvilleaskedher,asBathtoobegantofadeintothedistance.
“Iwaswondering…”Elizasaid,removinghereyesfromthewindowandstaringtowardherfiancé.Onemightthink,withallthemany,manyhoursshehadalreadyspentgazingathim,thatshewouldbetiredoftheview.Shewasnot.
“Youwerewondering?”
“Howdifficultisittosourceaspeciallicense?”Elizaasked.“Youseemthesortofgentlemanwhowouldknowsuchathing.”
“Theaspersionsyouarecasting,”Melvillesaid,“Icarenotforthem.”
Heregardedher,eyestwinklingandmouthsmiling.IfElizaweretopaintthescene,shewoulduseonlyherwarmest,brightestcolors—butshewouldnot.Somemomentscouldonlybelived.
“Youdonotwantagrandoccasion,withallthepompandceremonywecanmuster?”Melvilleasked.
“Ihavealreadyhadoneweddingsuchasthat,”Elizasaid.“Iwouldratherelope.”
“Ishallhavetoconsiderthematter,”Melvillesaid.“Perhaps,nowIamtobethemarriedLordMelville,Imightdecidetobecomedreadfullyproperanddull.”
“Youdismayme,”Elizasaid,bitingherliptohidehergrin.“FornowIamtobethemarriedLadyMelville,Ihavemadeaverydifferentdecision.”
“IsmyLadyMelvilletobeaverydashingcreature?”Melvilleenquiredpolitely.
“Oh,yes—dreadfullywild,”Elizasaid.“Youhavemysympathies.”
Melvillelaughed,leaningforwardtokissthesmileuponherface.
“Ilookforwardtomeetingher.”Acknowledgments
Writingasecondbookisaverydifferentbeasttowritingafirst.Suddenlyhavingreal-lifereaders,real-lifeeditorsandaveryreal-lifedeadlinehasbeenbizarreandchallengingandwonderful—andhavingthetimeandspacetodelvedeeperintoresearchhasbeenthegreatestjoy.IfyouareeverpassingthroughLondonandfancyseeingsomeGeorgianart,dopayavisittothefantastic—andfree—TateBritain,whereI(undertheexpertandmuch-appreciatedguidanceofSaraDibb)startedmyresearchjourney,andifyouareinterestedinlearningaboutBritain’scolonialhistoryandtheexperienceofIndianpeopleinRegencyEngland,IcannotmorehighlyrecommendthebrilliantbooksbyRozinaVisram,Dr.ArupK.ChatterjeeandWilliamDalrymple.Ilovenovels,butthestoriesoftherealpeoplelivingthroughthisperiodarefarmorecomplexandimportantthananyfiction.IalsofeelhugelyprivilegedtohavespokenbothtoAnnWitheridgefromLondonFineArtStudiosandtoDr.ArupK.ChatterjeefromOPJindalGlobalUniversity,whoansweredmyquestionswithsuchgraceandgenerosity.Allerrorsareofcoursemine,andanydeviationsfromtheirexpertcounselweremadeundertheinfluenceofaromanticimagination.
Moretimeandspaceforwritingthisyeardidalsomakeroomformoreself-doubt,too,andsomybiggestthanksmustbepaidtomyeditors,MarthaAshbyandMarieMichels,whoguidedmefromfirsttolastdraftwithanimpossibleamountofpatience,humorandperception.It’sbeenaveryfunhonorcollaboratingwithyou,andIfeelsoluckythat,alongsidemywonderfulagent,MaddyMilburn(andeverysinglegloriouspersonatMM!),andpublishingpowerhousesPamDormanandLynneDrew,Igettoworkwithsuchatalentedandfashionableeditorialteam.BigthanksmustalsogotoGeorginaKamsikaandKatiNichollfortheirinsightandsharpeyes—theyarehugelyappreciated!
Next,IwouldlovetothankthewholeteamatPamelaDormanBooks,VikingandPenguin,foralltheshrewd,quickandhighlyskilledworkthatgoesintopublishingabook:thankyoutoBrianTart,AndreaSchulz,KateStark,MaryStone,LindsayPrevette,KristinaFazzalaro,JuliaFalkner,ChristineChoi,PaulBuckley,LibbyVanderPloeg,SabrinaBowers,JeramieOrton,MattGiarratano,NorinaFrabotta,ChelseaCohenandallthepeopleinthesupplychainwhomoveheavenandearthtogetmybookeverywhereitneedstobe.Hugethankstothebookbloggerswhoputoutsomuchjoywiththeirreviews,it’salwayssuchadelightconnectingwithyou,andthankyoualsotothebooksellerswhocontinuetobuildsuchgloriousspacesonourhighstreet.
Ioweagreatdealtomyveryindulgentfriends,whoImustthankforthefollowing(pleasedeleteasappropriate):forthenegronis,thepasta,foransweringrandomquestionsaboutclassicalliterature,forreadingmybooksandthenalsomakingyourmumsreadmybooks.Thankyouforthemargaritas,thewine,forlettingmenamecharactersafteryouformyownamusement,forforgivingmewhenIcancelplans,forcomingwithmeonallthemuseumtoursandfortellingmewhenIstart“speakingRegency”inanormalconversation.Thankyou,Iloveyou,let’shangoutsoon.
MorethanksthanIcangiverightnowgoalwaystomywonderfulfamily,myenduringsourceofcalmandcomfortevenwhen—mostespeciallywhen—Iamatmymostunlikeable.ToMylaandJoey,whodestroyedmyfirstplotboardwithsuchneedlessenthusiasm:Idon’tthankyou,butIforgiveyou.
Andlastly,thankyoutomyreaders!Hello!Thankyousomuchforchoosingmybook—Ihopeitmadeyousmileatleastonce.Ilovehearingfromyou—Ican’ttellyouhowgladIamthatyouarerealandnolongerimaginary—sodocomeandsayhionsocialmediaifyouhaveamoment.
SophiexReadonforaselectionfromSophieIrwin’sfirstnovel,ALady’sGuidetoFortune-Hunting,availablenow.
1
NETLEYCOTTAGE,BIDDINGTON,DORSETSHIRE,1818
You’renotgoingtomarryme?”MissTalbotrepeated,disbelievingly.
“Afraidnot,”Mr.CharlesLinfieldreplied,hisexpressionsetinakindofbracinglyapologeticgrimace—thesortonemightwearwhenconfessingyoucouldnolongerattendafriend’sbirthdayparty,ratherthanendingatwo-yearengagement.
Kittystaredathim,uncomprehending.KatherineTalbot—Kittytoherfamilyandclosestacquaintances—wasnotmuchusedtoincomprehension.Infact,shewaswellknownamongherfamilyandBiddingtonatlargeforherquickmindandtalentforpracticalproblem-solving.Yetinthismoment,Kittyfeltquiteataloss.SheandCharlesweretobemarried.Shehadknownitforyears—anditwasnownottobe?Whatshouldonesay,whatshouldonefeel,inthefaceofsuchnews?Everythingwaschanged.AndyetCharlesstilllookedthesame,dressedinclothesshehadseenhiminathousandtimesbefore,withthatdisheveledstyleonlythewealthycouldgetawaywith:anintricatelyembroideredwaistcoatthatwasbadlymisbuttoned,agarishlybrightcravatthathadbeenmangledratherthantied.Heoughtatleast,Kittythought,staringatthatawfulcravatwitharisingsenseofindignation,tohavedressedfortheoccasion.
Someofthisiremusthaveseepedthroughtoherexpression,becauseallatonceCharlesswappedhismaddeningairofapologeticcondescensionforthatofasulkyschoolboy.
“Oh,youneedn’tlookatmelikethat,”hesnapped.“Itisn’tasifwewereeverofficiallypromisedtooneanother.”
“Officiallypromisedtooneanother?”Kitty’sspiritreturnedtoherinfullforce,andshediscovered,infact,thatshefeltquitefurious.Theirredeemablecad.“We’vebeenspeakingofmarriageforthepasttwoyears.Wewereonlydelayedthislongbecauseofmymother’sdeathandmyfather’ssickness!Youpromisedme—youpromisedmesomanythings.”
“Justthetalkofchildren,”heprotested,beforeaddingmulishly,“andbesides,itisn’tasifIcouldcallthingsoffwhenyourfatherwasondeath’sdoor.Wouldn’thavebeenatallthething.”
“Oh,andIsupposenowthathe’sdead—notamonthintheground—youcouldfinallyjiltme?”shesaidwrathfully.“Isthatreallysomuchmore‘thething’?”
Heranahandthroughhishair,hiseyesflickingtothedoor.
“Listen,there’snopointusdiscussingitwhenyou’relikethis,”heaffectedthetoneofaseverelytriedmanholdingontohispatience.“PerhapsIshouldgo.”
“Go?Youcan’tpossiblydropnewssuchasthis,andnotexplainyourself.IsawyoujustlastweekandwewerediscussingmarryinginMay—notthreemonthsaway.”
“PerhapsIshouldhavejustwrittenaletter,”hesaidtohimself,stillstaringlonginglyatthedoor.“Marysaidthiswasthebestwaytodoit,butIthinkaletterwouldhavebeensimpler.Ican’tthinkproperlywithyoushriekingatme.”
Kittycastasidehermanyirritationsand,withtheinstinctsofatruehunter,fixedonlyonthesalientinformation.
“Mary?”shesaidsharply.“MarySpencer?What,exactly,doesMissSpencerhavetodowiththis?IhadnotrealizedshehadreturnedtoBiddington.”
“Ah,yes,yes,well,sheis,thatis,”Mr.Linfieldstammered,beadsofsweatappearingonhisbrow.“Mymotherinvitedhertostaywithus,foratime.Itbeingsogoodformysisterstomakeotherfemaleacquaintances.”
“AndyouspoketoMissSpenceraboutbringingourengagementtoanend?”
“Ah,yes,well,shewassosympathetictothesituation—tobothoursituations—andImustsayitwasgoodtobeable…tospeaktosomeoneaboutit.”
Silence,foramoment.Andthen,almostcasually,“Mr.Linfield,doyoumeantoproposetoMissSpencer?”
“No!Well,thatistosay—wealready…So,Ithoughtbestto—tocomehere…”
“Isee,”Kittysaid—andshedid.“Well,IsupposeImustcommendyouuponyourconfidence,Mr.Linfield.Itisquitethefeattoproposetoonewomanwhilstalreadybeingengagedtoanother.Bravo,indeed.”
“Thisisexactlywhatyoualwaysdo!”Mr.Linfieldcomplained,musteringsomecourageatlast.“Youtwisteverythingarounduntilonedoesn’tknowwhichwayisup.HaveyouthoughtperhapsthatIwantedtospareyourfeelings?ThatIdidn’twanttohavetotellyouthetruth—thatifIwanttomakeacareerformyselfinpolitics,Icanhardlydoitmarriedtosomeonelikeyou.”
Hisderisivetoneshockedher.“Andwhatexactlyisthatsupposedtomean?”shedemanded.
Hespreadhisarms,asifinvitinghertolookaround.Kittydidnot.Sheknewwhatshewouldsee,forshehadstoodinthisroomeverydayofherlife:thewornchaiseshuddledbythefireplaceforwarmth,theonceelegantrugonthehearthnowmoth-eatenandshabby,shelveswheretherehadoncebeenbooksnowstandingempty.
“Wemayliveinthesametown,butwe’refromdifferentworlds.”Hewavedhishandsaboutagain.“I’mthesonofthesquire!AndMamaandMissSpencerhelpedmetoseethatIcannotaffordtomakeamésallianceifIamtomakeanameformyself.”
Kittyhadneverbeensoawareofthesoundofherheartbeat,poundingadrumloudlyinherears.Amésalliance,wasshe?
“Mr.Linfield,”shesaid,softlybutwithbite.“Lettherebenoliesbetweenus.YouhadnoissuewithourengagementuntilyouencounteredtheprettyMissSpenceragain.Asquire’sson,yousay!ThisisnotthesortofungentlemanlyconductIwouldhaveexpectedyourfamilytocondone.PerhapsIoughttobepleasedthatyouhaveprovenyourselftobesoutterlydishonorablebeforeitwastoolate.”
ShelandedeachblowwiththeprecisionandforceofGentlemanJackson,andCharles—Mr.Linfieldforever,now—staggeredbackwardfromher.
“Howcouldyousaysuchathing?”heasked,aghast.“Itisnotungentlemanly.You’rebecomingquitehysterical.”Mr.Linfieldwassweatingthicklynow,twistinguncomfortably.“Idowantustoremaingreatfriends,youhavetounderstand,Kit—”
“MissTalbot,”shecorrectedwithfrigidpoliteness.Ashriekofragewashowlingthroughherbody,butshecontainedit,gesturingsharplytothedoorwithawaveofherhand.“You’llforgivemeifIaskyoutoseeyourselfout,Mr.Linfield.”
Afteraquickbobofabow,hefledeagerlyfromher,withoutlookingback.
Kittystoodmotionlessforamoment,holdingherbreathasiftopreventthisdisasterfromunfoldinganyfurther.Thenshewalkedtothewindow,wherethemorningsunwasstreamingin,leanedherforeheadagainsttheglass,andexhaledslowly.Fromthiswindow,onehadanuninterruptedviewofthegarden:thedaffodilsjustbeginningtoflower,thevegetablepatch,stillthickwithweeds,andtheloosechickenspickingtheirwaythrough,lookingforgrubs.Lifeoutsidecontinuedon,andyetonhersideoftheglass,everythingwasutterlyruined.
Theywerealone.Completelyandutterlyalonenow,withnoonetoturnto.MamaandPapaweregone,andinthishourofmostgrievousneed,wheremorethanevershewishedtoaskfortheiradvice,shecouldnot.Therewassimplynoonelefttowhomshecouldturn.Panicwasrisingwithinher.Whatwasshetodonow?
Shemighthavestayedinthispositionforseveralhours,wereshenotinterruptedbyheryoungestsister,ten-year-oldJane,whobargedinonlyafewminuteslaterwiththeself-importanceofaroyalmessenger.
“Kitty,whereisCecily’sbook?”shedemanded.
“Itwasinthekitchenyesterday,”Kittyansweredwithoutlookingawayfromthegarden.Theyoughttoweedtheartichokebedthisafternoon,itwouldneedplantingbeforelong.Distantly,sheheardJanecalltoCecilytopassonherwords
“She’slookedthere,”camethereply.
“Well,lookagain.”Kittydismissedherimpatientlywithaflapofahand.
Thedooropenedandclosedwithabang.“Shesaysit’snotthereandifyou’vesoldit,she’llbeveryupsetbecauseitwasagiftfromthevicar.”
“Oh,forgoodness’sake,”Kittysnapped,“youmaytellCecilythatIcan’tlookforhersillyvicarbook,becauseIhavejustbeenjiltedandneedafewmoments’reprieve,ifthatisnottoomuchtoask!”
NosoonerhadJanerelayedthisunusualmessagetoCecily,thanthefullhousehold—allofKitty’sfoursistersandBramblethedog—descendedupontheparlor,instantlyfillingthespacewithnoise.
“Kitty,whatisthisaboutMr.Linfieldjiltingyou?Hashereally?”
“Ineverlikedhim,heusedtopatmeontheheadasifIwereachild.”
“Mybookisnotinthekitchen.”
Kittytoldthemasbrieflyasshecouldwhathadhappened,withherheadstillrestingontheglass.Therewassilenceafterthis,asKitty’ssistersstareduncertainlyateachother.Afterafewmoments,Jane—havinggrownbored—wanderedovertothecreakingpianoforteandbrokethesilencebybashingoutajollytune.Janehadneverreceivedmusiclessons,butwhatshelackedintalentshemadeupforinbothfervorandvolume.
“Howawful,”Beatrice—atnineteenyears,Kitty’sclosestsisterinbothageandtemperament—saidatlast,appalled.“Oh,Kittydear,Iamsorry.Youmustbeheartbroken.”
Kittyturnedherheadsharply.“Heartbroken?Beatrice,thatisquitebesidethepoint.WithoutmymarryingMr.Linfield,weareallruined.PapaandMamamayhaveleftusthehouse,buttheyalsoleftanastonishingamountofdebt.IwasdependingontheLinfieldwealthtosaveus.”
“YouweremarryingMr.Linfieldforhisfortune?”Cecilyasked,ajudgmentalnoteinhervoice.Theintellectualofthefamilyateighteenyearsofage,Cecilywasfeltbyhersisterstohavearatherover-developedsenseofmorality.
“Well,itwascertainlynotforhisintegrityorgentlemanlyhonor,”Kittysaidbitterly.“IjustwishI’dhadthesensetowrapitupsooner.WeshouldnothavepushedbacktheweddingwhenMamadied,Iknewthatalongengagementwasaskingfortrouble.TothinkthatPapathoughtitwouldlookunseemly!”
“Howbadisit,Kitty?”Beatriceasked.Kittystaredsilentlyatherforafewmoments.Howcouldshetellthem?Howcouldsheexplainallthatwasabouttohappen?
“Itis…serious,”Kittysaidcarefully.“Papare-mortgagedthehousetosomequitedisreputablepeople.ThesalesImade—ourbooks,thesilverware,someofMama’sjewels—wereenoughtokeepthematbayforawhile,butonthefirstofJunetheywillreturn.Notfourmonthsaway.Andifwedonothaveenoughmoney,orproofthatwecanstartpayingthem,then…”
“…Wewillhavetoleave?Butthisisourhome.”Harriet’slipwobbled.Assecondyoungest,sheyetremainedmoresensitivethanJane,whohadatleaststoppedplayingtositquietlyonthestool,watching.
Kittydidnothavethehearttotellthemthatitwouldbeworsethanjustleaving.ThatthesaleofNetleyCottagewouldbarelycovertheirdebts,withnothingleftaftertosupportthem.Withnowheretogoandnoobviousmeansofincome,thefuturewouldbeadarkplace.Theywouldhavenochoicebuttosplitup,ofcourse.SheandBeatricemightfindsomeemploymentinSalisbury,oroneofthelargertownsnearby,perhapsashousemaids—orlady’smaidsiftheyweretrulylucky.Cecily—well,KittycouldnotimagineCecilybeingwillingorabletoworkforanyone—butwithhereducationshemighttryaschool.Harriet—oh,Harrietwassoyoung—wouldhavetodothesame.Somewherethatwouldprovideroomandboard.AndJane…Mrs.Palmerinthetown,singularlymean-spiritedthoughshewas,hadalwayshadasortoffondnessforJane.Shemightbepersuadedtotakeherinuntilshewasoldenoughtofindemployment,too.
Kittyimaginedthemall,hersisters,separatedandcasttothewind.Wouldtheyeverbetogetheragain,astheywerenow?Andwhatifitwasfarworsethanthisalready-bleakscenario?Visionsofeachofthem,alone,hungryanddespairing,flashedbeforehereyes.KittyhadnotyetweptatearoverMr.Linfield—hewasnotworthhertears—butnowherthroatachedpainfully.Theyhadalreadylostsomuch.IthadbeenKittywhohadhadtoexplaintothemthatMamawasnotgoingtogetbetter.KittywhohadbrokenthenewsofPapa’spassing.Howwasshenowtoexplainthattheworstwasstilltocome?Shecouldnotfindthewords.Kittywasnottheirmother,whocouldpullreassurancesfromtheairlikemagic,northeirfather,whocouldalwayssaythingswouldbeallrightwithaconfidencethatmadeyoubelievehim.No,Kittywasthefamily’sproblemsolver—butthiswasfartoogreatanobstacleforhertoovercomewithwillalone.Shewisheddesperatelythattherewassomeonewhomightcarrythisburdenwithher,aheavyloadforthetenderageoftwenty,buttherewasnot.Hersisters’facesstaredupather,sosureevennowthatshewouldbeabletofixeverything.Asshealwayshad.
Asshealwayswould
Thetimefordespairhadpassed.Shewouldnot—couldnot—bedefeatedsoeasily.Sheswalloweddownhertearsandsethershoulders.
“WehavemorethanfourmonthsuntilthefirstofJune,”Kittysaidfirmly,movingawayfromthewindow.“Thatisjustenoughtime,Ibelieve,forustoachievesomethingquiteextraordinary.InatownsuchasBiddington,Iwasabletoensnarearichfiancé.Thoughheturnedouttobeaweasel,thereisnoreasontobelievetheexercisecannotberepeated,simplyenough.”
“Idonotthinkanyotherrichmenlivenearby,”Beatricepointedout.
“Justso!”hersisterrepliedcheerfully,eyesunnaturallybright.“WhichiswhyImusttraveltomorefruitfulground.Beatrice,consideryourselfincharge—forIshallbeleavingforLondon.”What’snextonyourreadinglist?
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A Lady’s Guide to Scandal A Novel

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