Read The Imaginary Gentleman Online
Authors: Helen Halstead
“Thank you, Mrs. Bell. I certainly liked it very much at one time. Familiarity has somewhat robbed it of its charm.” For the first time, Laura was gratified to hear Mrs. Bell's laugh.
Laughing herself, she said, “Would you like to copy the pattern?”
This offer was happily accepted, and Mrs. Bell copied the design into the notebook she took from her basket. That done, she put the book away and resumed her own work.
In a few moments, Laura became aware of Mrs. Bell's eyes on her and looked up.
“You seem agitated, Mrs. Bell. Has something upset you?”
“No.”
Yet Laura saw that her companion was oddly excited.
“I wish,” said the lady. “I would like ⦠to be granted the honour ⦔
“You have only to ask,” said Laura.
“Thank you.” The next words came out in a rush. “The honour of working ⦠the new banners.”
“The Morrison pennants?”
Mrs. Bell nodded, her eyes filled with desperate hope.
“It would be the work of many months, madam.”
“I would take the greatest care.”
“You are not to feel you owe Sir Richard any recompense for his hospitality. He delights in being of service.”
Mrs. Bell's eyes opened wide in her surprise. “Recompense? No! It is for my own enjoyment. How selfish that sounds.”
“It is a strange style of selfishness,” said Laura. “You must tell Sir Richard at once!”
Mrs. Bell blushed. “Iâaddress the baronet myself?”
Gracious! thought Laura. There exists someone who is afraid of Richard!
“Shall I ask him?” she said.
“Might he allow me â¦?”
“I can safely say he will be delighted.”
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Laura was perfectly correct. On hearing of Mrs. Bell's wonderful offer, the baronet was in transports of joy, and hurried into the solar. Standing before her chair, he said, “My dear lady, am I to believe what I hear? You will honour me by beginning the new banners?”
“I ⦠honour
you
?” said Mrs. Bell, her cheeks reddening.
“It is not I who does the favour.” He drew up a chair close to her. “You are not to feel sorry for me. I can find accomplished needle-women for the work.”
“They have not my veneration ⦔
“For Medieval times?”
She nodded.
Sir Richard jumped up, upsetting a little table. “Oops!” he cried, and caught the edge of it just in time.
He sat down again, his shoulders suddenly sagging. “It will be too great a task.”
“I can barely begin before the countess returns.”
“I can collect it from youâif you
must
leave.”
She nodded.
“You must promise me to send the work unfinished if you tire of it.”
“I will not tire of it.”
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Laura found them in the dining hall, watching as two footmen lowered one of the banners to a table placed beneath it. The family Bible was brought from the library, that the exact colours of the crest might be ascertained, the pennants being sadly faded. Mrs. Bell began to take careful measurements, and counted the stitches in the bottom row.
Sir Richard met Laura's eyes. “Veneration, like my own!” he said.
“We will not be able to match the wools in the village,” said Laura.
“No! We must go to Exeter tomorrow.”
Mrs. Evans entered, having recovered her spirits, and expressed amazement at the proceedings.
“Do you not fear the ghostâshe might visit us in displeasure,” she said, with a sidelong look at Laura.
Sir Richard replied, “There is no ghost, my dear cousin. Have no fear.”
Mrs. Evans laughed and kissed the air in her sister's direction. She gave the baronet her hand to kiss. In a flutter of white lace and waving fingers, she disappeared upstairs, to begin the complicated procedure of dressing for dinner.
Laura left the dining hall, determined on a quick walk in the meadow. Her shadow appeared behind herâshe felt his presence.
“Jonathon! Leave me!” she said, and glanced over her shoulder to see him standing there, his hands opening and closing in inarticulate entreaty.
She turned again and ran up the stairs, brushing past her sister, closing and locking her bedroom door behind her.
She stood for a long time at the window, staring sightlessly out at the forest.
At last, Laura rose and went downstairs, finding Sir Richard alone in the library. He jumped up on seeing her. “I thought you were dressing for dinner, Cousin.”
Laura crossed the room to him; stood before him, not knowing what to say.
He took her hand. “I hope you're not shy of me after all these years, dear Laura.”
“Richard, I need to know if ⦠your wishes are unchanged.”
“My wishes?” His head poked forward in a puzzled exploration of her countenance.
“Can you mean my wish for us to spend all our days together, in harmony, as one?”
“Well, yes.”
He dropped clumsily to one knee and seized her other hand, holding hers in both of his. His forehead was still rumpled, in surprise, she thought.
“Laura, my dear and beautiful Laura, will you do me the honour of consenting to be my wife?”
She laughed almost, in a muddle of embarrassment and relief, mingled with a kind of astonishment that her life had brought her to this.
“I accept with gratitude, Richard.”
“Nayâbe not so formal with your old friend, Laura.”
He beamed his most foolish smile and clambered to his feet. They looked at one another, and knew themselves to be, in some way, happy.
A
N EARLY FROST HAD RIMMED
the edges of the glass, and Laura burrowed deep beneath the covers, not ready yet to brave the wintry chill of her room. The chamber maid had lit the fire, and Jonathon helped her to move the writing table close to it.
Wrapping herself warmly, Laura made the effort to rise. An early start was essential for this was the day they were to go to Exeter, but she had not yet recorded her action of the previous day. She sat at the table, with a cup of hot chocolate at her side, and opened her journal.
Friday 3rd October
Yesterday I took a stepâirrevocable I feelâthat should at least decrease my unhappiness. I shall be at the beck and call of another woman no longer. I shall live in comfort all my days. Many women have fared much worse.
Laura took a sip of the chocolate, warming her hands around the cup.
Today I go to Exeter with my cousin and Mrs. Bell.
Elspeth will not accompany us, for she has arranged to spend the morning with the Woodruff ladies. She is laying plans for a dance. How pleasant it will be to spend the day so far from my sisterâand from Oakmont, I must confess.
She has given me a list of items to buy. For a wonder, it contains mostly things for me. I will find green trimmings for my new ball gownâI will know them when I set eyes on them. I am to seek also a fine white muslin and a length of wide lace, and as it comes from Elspeth's purse, I do not complain. For my sister, I am bid to find black lace, rather heavy, and the very palest lilac satinâin imperial lustre, if I can find it. For Mrs. Bell, a small giftâperhaps a brooch, or an ornament for a bandeau. Already Elspeth has sent word to Mrs. South in the village informing her that we need her services with the needle. What a way to get the gossips busy!
About to slide her journal into its special place in her desk, Laura hesitated. The book would fit in the bottom of her basket, bound in a scarf to keep it from prying eyes. It would travel to Exeter with her.
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On her return from Exeter the following evening, Laura put down her impressions of the day before going to bed.
Friday 3rd September, 11 p.m.
Our journey passed pleasantly enough. I was amused at how much Richard and Mrs. Bell found to say about all the banners, pennants, flags and escutcheons of their acquaintance.
I always look forward to the view from the hill when we approach Exeter. I was alone in my enjoyment of the sight of the trees fanning out along the roads: my companions only had eyes for the Medieval walls of the town. Richard was delighted to have a new listener to his perennial lament on the pulling down of that narrow old East Gate. Mrs. Bell shares his notion that the inconvenience of holding up rows of carriages and carts is not worth considering.
Richard went off on some business of his own, while Mrs. Bell and I carried out our commissions at the various linen-drapers. The wools and tapestry were easily got at Bellows, as I knew they would, and I found my muslin there too. This speed was fortunate for my sister's “palest lilac imperial lustre” was not to be found. I purchased instead a heavy, shimmering lilac plain satinâsince she placed much emphasis on the word “palest”. We went on to Gibson's in search of lace and my sister's ribbons. I had the pleasure of making Mrs. Bell laugh with my wicked impersonation of Elspeth saying, “Gibson's is the only place to be considered for ribbon.”
Only after my sister's exacting requirements were met, did Mrs. Bell seek my opinion. Lady Clarydon, “the most generous lady upon earth”, had sent her two pounds, all of which was to be devoted to the materials for a ball gown. My friend had not quite been given carte blancheâthe dress was not to be black.
“I believe my attire has wearied her,” Mrs. Bell said.
Does not the countess understand that ladies as poor as this must choose the most serviceable of garments? Mrs. Bell had decided that white would serve her best for such a garment. Fortunately she had seen the very thing she wanted, a satin heavy enough to be lasting, and we hastily repaired to the hallowed Gibson's again, to purchase it.
We found my cousin was awaiting us, his business completed. We all enjoyed a pleasant luncheon of cold meats, pickles and raspberry fool.
We then went in search of old walls, old bridges and old anything at all. I could not interest my companions in the distant view of the Haddon Hills, for they were intent upon examining the old city wall in front of their noses.
On the way home, Mrs. Bell was exhausted by so many exclamations of delight, and fell asleep with her head on my shoulder.
Richard and I spoke little and quietly, so as not to disturb our friend, but every now and then, Richard would look at me with an expression that demanded an understanding, even a secret smile, and I found it difficult to oblige. Custom would inure me to this intimacy, surely, yet how many such tiresome looks will pass between us in future, as we rattle along together in the same carriage, so to speakâforever?
T
HE CAPTAIN STOPPED FOR A
brief moment, overlooking the harbour, before turning along a road that climbed the hill to Wintern Cottage, perched above the little town of Fowey. Every shore leave, he had come home to experience the same pleasure at the sight of its lime-washed walls. The shutters were open, and he watched as the housekeeper leant from an upstairs window, shaking the dust from a coverlet. She draped it over the windowsill to air; and only then saw the carriage stopped outside. Her face lit up and she disappeared from the window. A moment later, she opened the door and he ducked his head to enter the passage.
“Captain, 'tis good to see you.”
“And you, Miss Pitt,” he said. “I see you hard at work already.”
Edward completed a quick inspection of the cottage, discussing Miss Pitt's requirements for showing it at its best. He ordered a simple dinner and left to arrange a meeting with his man of business, to set in motion the drawing up of the marriage contract. His affairs were not complicated and it would be the work of two days for the attorney to have the papers ready for him.
His attorney recommended an architect capable of designing the improvements to the cottage. On Thursday the architect arrived at Wintern, and Edward outlined the basis of his plans. It took the captain less than half an hour to realise that the man was incapable of understanding his client's ideas, insisting on grandiose schemes that would put unnecessary strain upon his purse and ruin the charm of the cottage into the bargain. The man left in a huff, and Edward wondered for a moment what to do next.
He had arranged to dine with his friend Mr. Jenner the next day, but thought he may as well pay him a call meanwhile. Jenner lived but four miles away and would be likely to know of the right fellow to put Edward's ideas into tangible form.
After a quick luncheon at the cottage, Edward set off to walk along the line of the ridge of low hills, towards his friend's estate. The air was brisk, but his fast pace kept him warm and he covered the distance in no time, with barely a limp. The walk brought back memories of running about those fields and lanes as a boy, when spending part of his school vacation at Hillcrest House. He crossed a final field and passed through a gate into the grounds of the house.
Passing the stables, he could not resist a look inside. There he saw a familiar figure, clad in an old brown jacket, his hand upon the neck of a horse, which nuzzled at his other hand.
“Jenner, my friend!”
As the gentleman turned, the sun coming in at the door lit up his head of orange hair. He strode over.
“Morrison, you are a day early! How good it is to see you.” They shook hands and Jenner looked into Edward's face with open pleasure.
“What has happened to you? I see you are your old self again!”
“My old self and more. How is Mrs. Jenner?”
“Wonderful! You will see her in just a moment. What is the hour?” He pulled out his watch. “Ah! Time to take teaâand I have not changed my coat.” He looked down and brushed some straw from his breeches. “You, at least, don't mind our unfashionable ways.”
“Noâand a day in my sister's elegant company will soon remove any contagion.”
“You insult me, sir!” said Jenner, laughing. “Is my bad influence so mild that Mrs. Evans can cure you in a day? Have a care, or I'll don my father's old wig and order dinner at two o'clock.”
Laughing, they entered the house through a side door that brought them into an area where cloaks and boots were stored. Here Mr. Jenner donned a smart coat and waistcoat, and they went into the hall. A nurse appeared, carrying a babe, while leading a little boy by the hand. Jenner scooped up the child and carried the squealing bundle under one arm into the drawing room.
“Cecilia, see who is come!” he said.
Mrs. Jenner had none of the polished, seductive charm of an
Elspeth, let alone a Lady Clarydon. She had only the recommendations of a pleasant countenance and a warm, lively interest in those around her. Struck immediately by the change in Edward's demeanour, a happiness that softened his features, she wanted at once to know the cause. In truth, they were not so far from Fowey for her to have missed hearing of the captain's enquiries there. For a gentleman to see his attorney was not especially significant, but combined with a meeting with an architect, it was enough to set tongues wagging.
Edward could not resist the chance to publish his happiness at least among these good friends. He told them of his engagementâa private matter at that stageâand accepted their congratulations.
He asked for a recommendation to a professional man to draw up the building plans.
“Who recommended Bradley? The fellow is completely useless!” said Jenner. “Let Mr. Waite be your man. Ten times the other's sense, at half his fee.”
When they insisted on lending Edward their carriage for his return to Wintern, he accepted, for the walk had tired his leg more than he expected.
Jenner had too much discretion to ask of the matter on which Edward had written for his advice. However, Edward felt that his friend's old confidence in him, when troubled in the past, deserved at least a mention of the topic. Waiting for the carriage, they walked along the drive together. The captain said, “I must thank you for your excellent advice about my sister. I am happy to say that the entire matter seems to be happily resolved.”
“That is excellent news.”
They stood by the gate, hearing in the still afternoon the carriage wheels start to move in the stable yard.
It occurred to Edward to ask his friend for an opinion on the strange incident, when Laura thought another man in the Hollow to be Mr. Templeton, yet it would be a betrayal of his sister. Instead he fell into the age old ruse.
“Do you know, Jenner, something odd happened to someone I know.”
“Oh,” he said. “Odd fellows, aren't they? The ones we know, I mean.”
“Indeedâsome more than others,” said Edward, giving him a teasing frown.
“What would you think, Jenner, of someone who ⦠had formed an immediate attachment, as sometimes happens.”
Mr. Jenner grinned and said nothing.
Edward continued, making heavy weather of it; he preferred silence, as a rule, to telling half-truths. “A few days later fate separated the pair. If ⦠this person should one day catch sight unexpectedly of a ⦠stranger turning towards him ⦠and be convinced it was the sameâ”
“Wait,” said Jenner. “You will tell me she bore no true resemblance to the beauty engraved upon his heart. Perhaps something in her figure or her air was enough of a reminder.”
“How did you know?”
“You must be the dullest fellow alive if you have never heard of that before. It is not madness, but loveâthe result of going about with half of one's brain engaged elsewhere.”
Sheer relief at the obviousness of this explanation made Edward laugh. The carriage was rumbling towards them. They parted, Edward boarding the carriage, while Jenner waved, chuckling to himself.
Edward returned to dine alone once again, at the cottage. The solitude was no hardship, for he took back with him all the warmth of the good wishes of his friends.
He met the next day with the new man suggested by Mr. Jenner as the best qualified to assist with the plans for the cottage. The meeting was more than satisfactory, for Mr. Waite had less pretension about him than the other man, and more of an ability to sympathise with the wishes of his client. Meanwhile he was able to come up with some good ideas of his own on the spot. Edward left him taking his measurements and went back into Fowey to see the attorney.
The papers were drawn up just as he had agreed with the colonel. Evalina's modest fortune was to be invested, with the principal held
in trust for any children they may have, in the same arrangement that had worked well for Edward and his sisters. His mother's jewellery was to come to Edward's wife, after his sisters first selected something for themselves, in accordance with a wish the lady had made known long ago.
A pleasant family dinner with the Jenners closed a satisfactory three days, and Edward could look forward to driving back to Oakmont the next day.