For Myself Alone: A Jane Austen Inspired Novel (6 page)

“Salt of the earth, I make no doubt. I must say that Mr. Graham seems a very worthy sort of man, although…” He chuckled, leaning forward and continuing in a much lower voice. “…my father is fond of saying that it is a great mercy that the man inherited his money for he is rather too simple to make his way in trade.”

“Dear me. That is hardly fair, is it, Mr. Pierce?” I said, stifling a laugh.

“My father’s words, not mine,” he disclaimed. “And they were spoken with good-natured affection, I assure you. As for me, I make no such judgments. I find the whole family quite delightful.”

“I am relieved to hear it.”

“Observing people is prodigiously interesting. Would not you agree, Miss Walker? It has become rather of a hobby with me. I am always diverted since I am always meeting with something unexpected. Mr. and Mrs. Graham are the perfect example,” he continued for my ears only. “Without a doubt, two of the finest individuals you will find anywhere. Yet together they certainly qualify as one of the oddest couples I have ever come across: a domineering little lady married to such a big mouse of a man. It really is quite comical, you must allow.”

“Truly, Mr. Pierce, you mustn’t say such things,” I scolded mildly. “I know you only jest, but I am afraid you go too far.”

“Do I? Then I am sincerely sorry,” he said with comfortable grace. “I would not offend your sensibilities for the world. I suppose I shall have to find some other means of entertaining you, then, since you do not care for my style of humor. Perhaps we should keep to safer subjects. What shall it be, Miss Walker? Poetry? Politics? Social reform? What is your pleasure?”

My pleasure was listening to practically anything Mr. Pierce cared to say. He had such an engaging manner, such a charming way of expressing himself, that whatever he said sounded uncommonly clever. The fact that he demonstrated equal regard for my opinions only heightened his appeal.

Mr. Pierce set the tone for a refreshing openness between us by his relaxed attitudes. From the outset, no awkwardness hindered our conversational intercourse; ideas, wit, and humor flowed unreservedly in both directions. I doubt Mama would have approved our uninhibited discourse, had she known of it, but I found a private satisfaction in setting aside the undue restraint of artificial niceties. Yes, I saw a new world of delicious freedom expanding before me, thanks to Mr. Pierce.

10

Courtship

After such a promising beginning to our acquaintance, there was nothing to hinder Mr. Pierce and myself from progressing on to what can only be described as the early stages of courtship. With my cavalier attitude toward men and marriage, I would have been hard pressed to admit it at the time, but so it was. He began with invented excuses to call on me, and I with contrivances to go out where we might happen to meet. When we encountered no opposition at home, these pretenses were swiftly discarded in favor of a more open acknowledgement of our mutual regard.

I saw him nearly every day. On an even footing and without reserve, we talked about every topic under the sun. The more Mr. Pierce made clear his preference for me above any other, the more sincerely I began to return his affection. After knowing him a fortnight, it first occurred to me that I might be in a fair way of falling in love. He showed unmistakable symptoms of the same, and all without the promise of fortune to tempt him. He had not asked for, and I had not volunteered, any specific information about my financial status. The general means of our family he could approximate from our style of living and from my talk about Fairfield. It appeared that was enough to satisfy him, just as I would have hoped.

Once it became clear that Mr. Pierce was developing serious intentions, my father made prudent inquiries into the gentleman’s background and character through our solicitor. According to all available information, Mr. Pierce hailed from a very respectable family, and no one had ever heard any harm of him. He had recently earned his degree from Cambridge and, as an only son, looked forward to the happy prospect of inheriting the prosperous estate of Wildewood. In the meantime, his allowance kept him in stylish comfort. With all his questions answered satisfactorily, Papa declared that he would not object to such a creditable match for his daughter.

Mr. Pierce also won my mother’s approbation with little difficulty, partly on the strength of seeing her daughter made so happy and, I suspect, partly due to the working of the same manifold attractions which had fixed my interest. Being a woman herself, I suppose she was not entirely immune to these influences, even at her different age and station in life. Still, her maternal instinct had not been so thoroughly overcome as to forget her responsibilities altogether.

“Jo, my dear, I thought you and I might have a little chat,” she said one morning, coming into my room.

“If you wish, Mama.”

She sat down upon the bed beside me. “Mr. Pierce is a delightful young man, and you like him very much.” It was a statement, not a question. “As do I, to be sure. Yet I do feel it is incumbent upon me to recommend a bit of caution. I can well imagine what you must be feeling. A first romance is a very intoxicating thing. It is easy to find oneself… swept away… by a flood of unfamiliar emotions,” she said with a far-off look in her eyes. “Still, you mustn’t lose your head. Use the good sense God has given you, as you would in making any other important decision.”

“Mama, really, I do not think this is necessary.”

“I know, and you are probably right, my dear. Yet I could not bear to see you hurt when I might have prevented it with a word or two of warning. So humor me just this once, and then we shall say no more about it. All I am advocating is that you proceed slowly; take plenty of time to get to know the gentleman before you commit yourself in any way. It is for his protection as well as your own that you should. Nothing will give me more pleasure than seeing you well married someday. But you are still young and there is no reason to rush.”

“You needn’t worry, Mama. I have no intention of ‘losing my head,’ as you call it, for Mr. Pierce or anybody else. My wits have not as yet deserted me, I assure you.”

“I am glad to hear it. See that they do not, and remember to come to me if you need advice. That is all I ask.”

Mother seemed satisfied, having done her duty and being reassured that her daughter was in no immediate danger of making a fool of herself over the dashing Mr. Pierce. I was equally pleased to have soothed her unwarranted fears. And I meant what I said. My growing regard for Mr. Pierce notwithstanding, I still felt in full control of my faculties.

~~*~~

The next two weeks passed most agreeably. Thanks to Mama’s conscientious supervision, my father continued his treatments at the Pump-room with impressive regularity, and followed his dietary guidelines with similar faithfulness. As a result, he steadily improved and began to feel equal to a more ambitious social schedule. Concerts, the theatre, and even an occasional ball were now within our reach.

True to my word, I remembered to speak up on behalf of Agnes, who, by her own written account, continued to languish most grievously in Wallerton for lack of society and diversion. Now that Papa was feeling so much better, his spirits had improved as well. “The more, the merrier,” he said to my surprise when I asked permission to invite Agnes to join us. I posted a letter to her forthwith.

Mr. Pierce’s behavior during this interval could not have been more effectively designed to please. His devotion knew no bounds other than what decorum and basic civility to others demanded. Miss Graham and Mr. Ramsey’s mutual fondness, though perhaps less ardent in nature, held fast as well. And since being introduced at the Grahams’ dinner party, Ramsey and Pierce had established a comfortable rapport between them. Being forced to choose between the society of my new bosom friend and that of Mr. Pierce would have been a painful proposition. Fortunately, I seldom had to sacrifice the company of one for the other since we were all four content to go about together.

Although it was now November, exploring the streets and avenues of Bath remained our preferred choice for daytime activity. Winter clothing and exercise easily overcame all but the coldest temperatures. Precipitation could be more bothersome. Whenever the appearance of the sky was arguably in our favor, though, we would set forth on the gravel walk to the Royal Crescent or for a stroll along the Avon, umbrellas in hand. On those occasions when not even the most optimistic imagination could reasonably predict a dry outing, we were forced to be content with indoor entertainments, collecting at Susan’s house, or at mine, or at the Pump-room.

On one such dreary, gray morning, Mr. Pierce called early at Pultney Street with an equally gloomy aspect. After leaving his dripping greatcoat at the door, he came up to deliver distressing news. Papa was at the Pump-room, so Mama and I received him, immediately noticing his uncharacteristically low spirits.

“Is anything the matter, Mr. Pierce?” she asked.

“I have unpleasant news, I am sorry to say, although it will doubtless hurt me far more than it does either of you. Alas, I must take temporary leave of Bath and of all my excellent friends here. My father has recalled me to Surrey; I have just received his summons. He needs me at Wildewood and then intends to send me on to London from there, to attend to some business on his behalf. Much as I am loath to quit this place where I have been so happy, I have no choice.”

“This is unlucky,” exclaimed Mama. “However, as you say, you are obliged to obey your father. I hope your absence will not be lengthy, Mr. Pierce.”

“You are too kind, Mrs. Walker. Yet I cannot tell you how long I shall be detained. I really do not know myself. It may be as little as a week or as much as a month. My father does not say, and these things are difficult to predict. I will on no account stay away a single day longer than I must,” he declared, looking intently at me for a long minute. Then, upon rousing himself, he lamented, “Of all horrid things, leave-taking is the worst.”

I had been too disheartened by his news to speak before. Finally I asked, “Must you go immediately?”

“Tomorrow.”

That dismal word heralded the end of my season of peculiar bliss, the heady days of early infatuation. At least Mr. Pierce and I were to have the benefit of one last evening together before we endured the trial of separation. Thus the ball at the Upper Rooms that night took on new significance, serving as the culmination to our first month’s acquaintance and as Mr. Pierce’s take-leave ceremony. The Grahams and Mr. Ramsey were expected to attend as well, so it would be a proper sendoff.

That night supplied all the magical delight that failed to develop at my first ball in Bath weeks before. On the earlier occasion, I had lamented the lack of a partner who could please me and be pleased by me. Now, I rejoiced in the fact that I had found one who did both. Instead of only glimpsing a handsome stranger across the room as I had done then, I gazed at him across the set, dance after dance, counting him as my very particular friend.

Mr. Pierce escorted me to the dance floor once again after the tea break, boasting glibly, “With you on my arm, Miss Walker, I daresay I am the envy of every man in this room.”

“Mr. Pierce, really! You exaggerate most alarmingly. I am sensible enough to know that there are probably dozens of girls in the room much prettier. If you would but open your eyes and look about yourself, you would see that it is true.”

“Well, perhaps I am prejudiced. Still, if the men are not envious, it is only because they do not know you as I do. Your beauty they can judge for themselves, but your other charms may not be so readily apparent. How can anyone who has never had the pleasure of speaking to you know the melodic tones of your voice, for instance? How can he be expected to appreciate your clever wit?”

“Yes, I believe you
are
prejudiced in my favor, Mr. Pierce, possibly to the point of blindness,” I said, pleased nonetheless. “No one else has yet discovered me half so amiable. Unfortunately, now that you have spoilt me with this sort of high praise, I am bound to grow quite desolate when I am once again deprived of it.”

As we reached our places on the floor, he pressed my hand and whispered in my ear, “Henceforth, you need never be without my praise and adoration, Miss Walker.”

In that instant, Mr. Pierce had exchanged his light, flirtatious tone for one quite serious. When I faced him across the set, I found his look equally earnest. His statement was tantamount to a declaration of love; the words implied it and his manner confirmed it. 

I could still feel his warm breath against my hair, hear his words echoing in my mind as the dance began. I barely noticed the music or saw the other couples, so fixed was my attention on Mr. Pierce, and his on me. We moved through the entire dance in a trance-like silence.

At its conclusion, Mr. Pierce continued resolutely. “Miss Walker… Jo… when I return to Bath, my father will be with me. I have written him about you, and he is most eager to make your acquaintance.”

“I shall be very pleased to meet him, sir.”

“Will you not call me Richard?”

“If you like... Richard.”

“Yes, that is much better. In fact, I quite like the sound of it,” he said with a satisfied smile.