"I shall and we shall soon find out what he means by calling on you at this early hour, without an appointment," said Rebecca, as she rose and marched out of the breakfast room and into the parlour, where Mr Armstrong waited with a large basket of flowers.
The rather bashful look on his face did nothing to change Rebecca's mind, which was by now running along a very specific track. It was made worse when, after some initial greetings, he asked in the politest terms, and with an unusual degree of diffidence, if he could see Miss Lilian in private.
Rebecca was unsure if she should agree without enquiring what it was for, but he was Lady Isabel's cousin and she could not refuse him. As she left the room, she threw one last look at Lilian, which conveyed only her complete confusion.
Lilian too was embarrassed. She had no way of knowing why Josh Armstrong was there that morning. She had found him pleasant and amiable, far more so than the rest of the company assembled at Lady Ashton's, but she could not account for his visit that morning. As for the flowers, perhaps, she thought, he had expected she would still be unwell and wished to improve her spirits.
But, in truth, Josh Armstrong was on a very different mission, which he was finding equally difficult to carry out. He had come, he said, to apologise on behalf of his cousin Captain Hastings. Lilian was so taken aback at his words, she had to sit down at once. Her face reflected the dismay she felt, as she thought that somehow, the contretemps of last evening had become known to Mr Armstrong and the rest of the company. She was filled with mortification and was very near tears.
But as he spoke, she listened and was soon reassured on that score, at least.
"Miss Lilian, I am here because I have become aware that you were most shamefully importuned by Captain Hastings last evening. My excellent friend Percy St John has informed me that Captain Hastings, before he asked you to dance, had entered into a wager with a couple of his fellow officers that he would invite you to dance with him and, if you accepted, would entice you into letting him kiss you. It was a stupid, tasteless prank, no more—but having seen you so distressed before you left last night, Percy, concerned that it had all gone too far, approached me and spilt the beans, as it were. I am here to present my humblest apologies; that such a thing should even have been contemplated by a gentleman in our company is utterly obnoxious and I wish to assure you he will not go unpunished."
Lilian, though reassured on one count, was still too disturbed to speak except to say, "I am astonished that you, Mr Armstrong, would still consider him a gentleman—his conduct was so odious. I have never been so affronted in my life, and what you have just told me does not improve my estimation of him."
She fell silent again and he continued, "I agree, Hastings can be a blackguard—he is indulged by Lady Ashton and believes he can do or say anything he pleases. I am here, however, to assure you, Miss Lilian, that he will be brought to book this time. I am determined that he will never again embarrass you or any other young lady of my acquaintance. I have spoken very severely to him and I intend to see Lady Ashton…"
Lilian interrupted him, more gently this time, thanking him for his apology and concern; however, she asked that nothing be said to Lady Ashton about the matter.
"Mr Armstrong, while I appreciate your apology, there is no need to involve Lady Ashton in this situation. It does not concern her, and as I expect to return home to Kent very soon, I have no desire to cause Her Ladyship any embarrassment over this incident. I know she is a friend of my aunt Mrs Tate, who would also be seriously distressed were these matters to become public. I do not wish her to be so mortified, either. So far, I have said nothing of this to her. So, if you wish to do me a service, please say nothing to Her Ladyship, except that I have become unwell and must return home immediately."
Then, looking very directly at him, she added, "How you deal with Captain Hastings is for you to decide. He is your friend and a member of your family. His conduct is certainly not what I would have expected to endure in the company of a gentleman. Suffice it to say that his behaviour is the worst I have encountered in my life, which though it has not been long, has allowed me the opportunity to meet people in many walks of life, from distinguished gentlemen like Mr Darcy of Pemberley to those ordinary working men who live and work on the Rosings estate. No doubt, you may not acknowledge some of them as gentlemen, but I can say to you quite truthfully that none of them has ever behaved in such an ungentlemanly manner as your cousin has done, nor has any other man given such deep offence."
Lilian could see Armstrong was deeply shocked and disturbed by her words. Yet she was unsure how much he knew of the incident involving Captain Hastings. Since she had decided not to complain of his conduct to her aunt, she was not now going to tell Mr Armstrong the details, either. Clearly, he had obtained some intelligence from his friend Percival St John, who may have been privy to the bet Captain Hastings had made, but not his subsequent conduct, after he had led her into the study.
Perhaps, she thought, Hastings may have boasted of his "conquest" to friends… she had no way of knowing and feared that anything she may say would only add to the rumour and gossip that would surely follow. She had been so mortified, she wished to forget the incident altogether and return to the safety and peace of her home.
When Josh Armstrong tried again to persuade her that she need not leave London; she would be quite safe from any further embarrassment, he would personally guarantee it, Lilian was gentler in her response. She thanked him for his concern but said firmly, "That is kind of you, Mr Armstrong, but I have decided that I must go home. I do not believe that I could ever feel at ease again in Lady Ashton's house. If Captain Hastings were present, there would be inevitable awkwardness and discomposure on both sides, and even if he were not, who is to say some other person in the party may not attempt the same? Someone who feels it is his right to harass a young woman only because he is a person of wealth and standing and she is a nobody in his eyes? It would be insupportable. Besides, were I not to tell my aunt and she should discover from some other source what took place last night, how should I explain my silence?"
Josh looked quite put out and tried once more to reassure her, but had to admit he had failed, when she declared that she had already told her aunt she wished to return to Kent and had written to advise her mother that very day.
"My letter is already sent to the post, I shall not change my mind," she said.
Lilian was genuinely touched by Josh Armstrong's words; the sincerity with which he had apologised for and berated his cousin's behaviour was unarguable. She had accepted his apology and indicated that she did not blame him for what had occurred, but there was little more to be said between them. When he left, having assured her of his own high regard for her and expressed again his regret at her departure, he was plainly downcast at having failed.
Lilian went upstairs to pack her trunk. She knew not how she would spend the rest of her time in London until her departure, but her spirits lifted at the very thought of going home.
Chapter Nine
Catherine had spent the morning debating with herself whether she should tell Frank Burnett about the letter she had received from John Adams and the proposal it contained.
Some days had elapsed since the arrival of the letter, and she had begun to feel the need to respond, yet was reluctant to do so. It was the first time she had faced an important decision with neither her husband nor her daughter at hand; it was not a comfortable situation. How should she decide without consulting anyone at all, she wondered.
Yet the question remained—who was she to consult? Not her sister Rebecca, whose mind seemed to be set against young John Adams. It would have been easier had Lilian confided in her mother, but she had not. Nor had Mr Adams mentioned in his own letter to her if he had already secured Lilian's affections and consent.
If that were the case, thought Catherine, what was there to say? And what would be the purpose of consulting other members of her family, who knew little or nothing of Mr Adams? Catherine's mind returned to Frank Burnett. He, at least, knew both Mr Adams and Lilian, albeit only for a comparatively short period of time. Her own mind was in confusion.
On the previous night, she had returned to the entries in her notebooks recounting her own experiences. She had read with renewed interest the record she had made of her conversations with Lady Catherine de Bourgh, after Her Ladyship had been made aware, probably by Mrs Jenkinson, that a friendship appeared to be developing between young Miss Collins and the librarian. It had brought everything that had been quite forgotten over the years very vividly to mind.
Lady Catherine had been nothing if not forthright.
Having first subjected her to an interrogation in order to ascertain the truth of what she had heard, she had made her disapproval perfectly plain. Catherine recalled the innumerable questions, probing and personal, demanding answers, laying bare her youthful feelings.
"And tell me, do you suppose yourself to be in love with Mr Burnett?" she had asked in a voice that suggested that such a supposition would be folly indeed.
Unsure if an answer in the negative would suffice to placate Her Ladyship and fearing that a positive reply would bring down more than her fair share of opprobrium upon her, Catherine had chosen to say, rather lamely, "I am sure I do not know, your Ladyship. I have not given the matter much thought."
But this admission had only brought more scorn and censure, with Lady Catherine expressing complete consternation.
"Not sure? My dear girl, do you mean to say that you have been trifling with the feelings of Mr Burnett? For I have been reliably informed that he appears to believe that your feelings are engaged. Have you not given him reason to assume this is the case?"
When Catherine, not knowing how to answer, had remained silent, she had said sternly, "Catherine, do not try to deceive me, for I surely will discover the truth. I wish you to understand that for as long as you are resident at Rosings, you are in my care. Indeed, I have said to your mother that I believe I am
in loco parentis
as far as your well-being is concerned, and she has agreed to that arrangement."
Catherine had said nothing, but had looked meek and submissive, knowing that to do otherwise would unleash upon her another sermon on gratitude and loyalty.
"Well, in the circumstances, and especially in view of your very young age, I believe it is my duty to advise you against the sorts of hazards that young ladies may often find in their path. Do you accept that, child?"
Catherine had said yes, she did accept. It would have been of no use to say otherwise.
As her notebook recorded, there had followed a conversation—or rather a long, uninterrupted monologue from Lady Catherine—in which she had been advised against letting her heart run away with her head and allowing her feelings to get the better of her good sense.
"Your mother was a woman of great good sense, who always heeded my advice, and I would expect that you, of all her daughters, would likewise place the interest of family and duty above some silly romantic notion of love. I do not mean to suggest that one must abjure the notion of love, but it is a flimsy foundation upon which to build a marriage. Besides, you are far too young to be thinking of marrying, and a wise young woman should not let it be thought that she is too keen; it diminishes her in the eyes of potential suitors."
Following this dissertation on love and marriage, Lady Catherine had said, "Now, I do not wish to hear any more of this nonsense. I am exceedingly particular that any young lady who remains under my protection keeps most meticulously to the rules I lay down for her own well-being, and I hope I will not have to speak to you of this matter again."
Thereafter she had abruptly changed the subject, as was her wont, and proceeded to ask Catherine about her drawing lessons.
"Are they coming on well? I should like to see you learn to draw and paint; it is an excellent accomplishment for a young lady and well worth the effort. I know you are working hard at your embroidery, but I should be very happy to hear that you have mastered the art of painting as well. I wish I had had time to study it myself; had I done so, I should have been truly proficient," she declared, with conviction.
And that, it had seemed, was to be the end of it.
But, like most things in life, it had not been that simple.
Catherine recalled that what she had said to Lady Catherine de Bourgh had been substantially true at the time. She had never acknowledged, even to herself, that she was in love with Mr Burnett, nor had she given him any encouragement to believe this was the case.
Their friendship had been both enjoyable and important to her. Through him, she had been introduced to a world of serious knowledge as well as a variety of entertaining literary materials, such as she would never have discovered for herself. She had learned to use the collection in the library at Rosings, to read and follow her interests, discovering more information, and she credited him with teaching her how to do so.