Searching For Captain Wentworth (43 page)

Eliza Austen was
outrageous, but I loved her for it. I couldn’t
help thinking that she had intended the evening to
go just this way,
that she already
knew that Charles wanted to dance with me again
and that we could only be together if she
engineered it. I worried
about
what my father would think of it all, but I noticed how
quickly Mrs Austen managed to draw him into the
conversation. As
Charles took me
out onto the dance floor, I could see our cousin
hanging on her every word. I had no doubt that her
rank had won
him over, not to
mention her dazzling beauty and captivating ways.

The Austen’s
carriage rolled along the gravel sweep at noon. I had
been watching from the drawing room that gave such
a fine view
across the town
and to the sea that looked like a strip of violet
ribbon in the distance. Grey clouds billowed out
across the water
like a
magnificent sail threatening rain and I wondered if the picnic
might have to be cancelled. Everyone was gathered
to await our
guests. Emma had
seated herself next to Mr Glanville on a chaise
longue, my father and Mrs Randall sat at opposite
ends of the room,
whilst Marianne
could not decide where to be comfortable. One
moment she sat beside Mrs Randall, the next minute
she came
bounding over to
the window impatient for any movement below.

The second she
saw the carriage door open she cried out and there
was a general bustle as everyone adjusted their
cuffs, their gowns
and patted their
hair in anticipation of the expected company.
The coachman leapt off his perch to let down the
steps. I saw
Eliza Austen
first, a picture in blue striped silk with a straw bonnet
beribboned in the same fabric, followed by her
husband, and lastly,
the
person I most wished to see. Charles glanced up at the window
and grinned. I waved and my heart turned a
somersault when he
waved back.

My father and Mr
Glanville jumped to their feet as Eliza
Austen made her entrance, pausing a little at the
door for most
i
mpact. The
effect she had on the gentlemen was astonishing and it
was all I could do not to laugh as they bowed and
preened, fawning
over her every
word.

A chair nearest
to Mr Glanville and Emma was fetched for
Mrs Austen who immediately started a conversation
with them.

Henry Austen
came to stand with Charles, Mrs Randall and myself
at the other end. I heard our host ask how long the
Austens were to
be in Lyme.

‘Oh, only for
another day, Mr Glanville,’ Mrs Austen replied.

‘Unfortunately,
my husband has business in town that must be
returned to, and it is impossible to spare any
further time. More is
the pity,
as I am inclined for some travel abroad.’

‘But where
should you go, Mrs Austen?’ Mr Glanville
ventured. ‘I do not think it safe to be travelling
on the continent just
yet.’

Eliza Austen
patted his arm. ‘Please do not concern yourself,
sir. I am a long seasoned traveller and I have
little fear, especially
of those
whom I regard quite as my countrymen. I long to return to
France where I was first married and, indeed, if
ever my property
is to be
reclaimed, I must go. I do not fear old Boney and neither
does Mr Austen. Do you, my dear?’

Personally, I
felt Mr Austen did not look quite as convinced as
his wife, but he smiled and looked at her with such
an expression
of adoration, he
looked as if he would do anything she asked. They
were an unusual couple. He was as handsome as she
was beautiful,
but I was sure
he was much younger than she and I felt most
curious about their relationship.

My father spoke
up. ‘You still have a property in France? Is it
not secure?’

Eliza’s face
saddened and she twisted the mourning ring on
her finger. ‘Sadly, my first husband, the Comte de
Feuillide, was
taken from our
home never to return. He insisted that I leave France
for my sake and that of our poor child, Hastings,
who has since
been so cruelly
taken from us all. I pray that he knows his father
once more, now that they are together in heaven.
Until the present
time, I have not
been able to think about the possibility of
returning, but with the Peace, I hope very much to
claim back our
land. The packet
boat is sailing once more between Calais and

Dover, and I
will never be happy until I have seen for myself what
has happened.’

‘But, is it
safe?’ asked Mr Glanville. ‘Will you not suffer any
danger?’

‘I believe an
amnesty has been declared for all the old families
and if we pay our respects to Madame Josephine, we
shall escape
the effects of
Madame Guillotine!’ Eliza Austen laughed, a sound
that tinkled like a little bell in contrast to the
sombre mood of the
moment before.
‘A little flattery and a lot of bribery will no doubt
help my cause. Besides, I long to go to Paris and
see all the latest
fashions.’

‘I would love to
go to Paris,’ Emma cried. ‘I have seen
pictures in the monthly magazine. All the women look like Greek
goddesses in clinging muslins.’

‘Mr Glanville
must take you there when you are married,’ Mrs
Austen continued, without any hint of the
embarrassment she might
be
causing. ‘Forgive me, but I could not help noticing how
perfectly delicious you appear together sitting
side by side on a
loveseat. Miss
Elliot blushes and you, sir, are looking most bashful.
But, everyone loves the thought of a summer wedding
and I am
certain you will
not disappoint us. Besides, the whole town is
talking of nothing else!’

Emma beamed and
I saw her try to catch Mr Glanville’s eye,
though I noticed his eyes resting once more upon
Eliza Austen. We
were all paused
to hear his reply, when the room darkened suddenly
and the first spots of rain came pattering against
the glass of the
windows.

Marianne got up
to view the scene outside. ‘Oh, no, our picnic
will be ruined. Whatever shall we do now?’

Our host seemed
relieved to have an excuse to consider the
situation. He marched over to the window to tell us
what we could
already plainly
see. The rain was coming down steadily. Charles
and I were the only people who did not join him. We
stood very
still, side by
side, his arm brushing mine. I felt his eyes on my face,
but his nearness was having such an effect on me, I
couldn’t look
up straight
away. When I did, his eyes connected with mine striking
like the forks of lightning that were crackling in
the skies outside.

I was only
conscious of them and everything and everyone else
seemed to fade into insignificance. So much so,
that I began to
wonder if I was
slipping through time once more. I swayed. Charles
caught my arm. I felt warm fingers cup my elbow and
his looks
were so tender,
I melted inside.

Thunder rumbled
in the distance and the rain came down in
torrents. Mr Glanville turned to us all. ‘Do not
worry, my friends. I
have a
solution on this wet day. In anticipation, I instructed my staff
to serve a cold collation in the Chinese
conservatory. Let us not
delay a
moment longer, we will picnic whatever the weather. Mrs
Austen, I hope you will advise me. The conservatory
is decorated
in the style
favoured by the Prince of Wales, you know, and I do not
yet think I have quite furnished it with objets
d’art enough!’

We followed him
downstairs, the conversations of a moment
ago replaced by other trivial talk. We passed along
a winding
corridor toward
the back of the house where the walls blossomed
with crimson peonies and chrysanthemums and where
golden bells
and painted
fretwork vied with roaring dragon’s heads which
writhed in the ceiling above, eyes wild and tongues
lashing. We
soon arrived at
a scene from a Chinese fairy tale. The conservatory,
a vast glass room was filled with hothouse flora,
japanned cabinets,
pagodas and
bamboo boxes. A series of mirrored panels between
the windows added to the sense of theatrical
illusion with
reflections
repeating again and again like the Chinese clock on the
table chiming the hour. What seemed to be a flock
of faux
nightingales in
a myriad of gilded cages were strung up in the roof,
along with tasselled lanterns of blue, pink and
violet glass, painted
with
mandarins, butterflies and lotus flowers, all hanging on
varying lengths of tinted ribbon. The room glowed
with colour and
soft candlelight
in contrast to the misty gloom outside. At one end
was a table groaning with cold chicken, pastries,
sweetmeats and
ices, whilst at
the other stood several footmen bearing trays of
champagne filled crystal and a band of musicians
who started to
play as we
entered.

I was sure I’d
seen Eliza Austen roll her eyes at Charles and
smirk at Henry, but she declared that she’d never
seen such
perfection and
immediately asked who had been responsible for the
room’s decoration. Mr Glanville, unable to stop
himself from
boasting,
declared that he had taken advice from the Prince’s own
man and though he did not like to appear vain,
added that he was
very proud of
his own additions particularly with reference to the
dragon’s heads out in the corridor.

There were
elements of the room that I liked, but it seemed a
little incongruous set against a backdrop of
English landscape with
views of
the sea looking steel grey and unforgiving in the cold wet
of the afternoon. We sat down at the table. I had
not expected to be
seated near
enough to Charles to talk to him but contented myself
with the occasional glance. I caught Mrs Austen
looking at us once
and smiling that
secret smile of hers before turning again to Mr
Glanville as if she were paying him undivided
attention. Her efforts
seemed to
be concentrated between him and my father and,
whenever she could, Mrs Randall was drawn into the
conversation.
Eliza proved she
could talk on any subject. I saw Mrs Randall smile
with approval as they discussed the work of Samuel
Richardson.

Henry Austen was
seated next to me. I couldn’t help thinking
of Jane when he turned with an expression so like
hers.

‘My sister Jane
would be very envious of my visit here today,’
he began. ‘Though my mother has taken it into her
head to go to
Dawlish this
year, I know Jane is anxious to see both you and Lyme
again. She wrote to tell Eliza of your acquaintance
in Bath and that
is how I first
discovered that you danced with my brother at the
Assembly Rooms.’

I felt a bit
disappointed. I was rather hoping that Charles
might have told Henry himself. It must have shown
for Mr Austen
quickly added,
‘Charles has told me since about the time you have
spent together, of course.’

I felt myself
blushing; the fact that he’d read me so easily was
shameful. I asked after Jane.

‘Her letters are
cheerful and I think she is in reasonable good
health, yet, I know my sister’s spirits are not as
they should be. It
will be an
excellent thing if my sisters can come and visit you in
Lyme. They do not spend enough time in the company
of people
their own age
and if I am honest, Miss Elliot, I do not think I will
be talking too much out of turn if I say that Jane,
in particular, finds
some of
the foibles of the society with which they are presently
surrounded more than a little challenging. Of
course, as two single
ladies,
there is little chance for my sisters to escape and follow their
own pursuits.’