Colonel Brandon's Diary

by Amanda Grange

  ‘I am glad to see it affords you so much joy,’ said my father, dabbing his lips fastidiously as he finished his soup.

  ‘But who is she really?’ asked Eliza. ‘Is she anyone we know?’

  ‘My dear, I know that Harry is not always the most honest young man in the world, but on this occasion he speaks nothing but the truth. His bride is, indeed, to be you.’

  ‘But . . . this is a joke!’ said Eliza, but she did not sound sure.

  I was not sure, either, and now the glances we exchanged were perturbed.

  ‘A joke! How you young people express your good humour these days! In my young day, we would have said, This is delightful. But times move on and language, just like fashion, is always changing. Yes, my dear, it is a joke.’

  ‘You are teasing me, sir,’ she said, looking at me anxiously and then looking back at my father.

  ‘Is this another of youth’s sayings?’ he asked. ‘I am sadly behind the times, I fear, and I do not always understand them.’

  ‘Pray, do not jest with me, sir,’ she said. ‘Put me out of my misery and tell me it is not true.’

  ‘Your misery? My dear Eliza, not a moment ago you were in raptures about it,’ he said incredulously; but, as so often happens with my father, I did not know if his manner was real or feigned.

  ‘I assure you, sir, I was not,’ said Eliza. ‘I thought you were teasing me.’

  ‘For what purpose?’ he enquired curiously.

  ‘I do not know.’

  ‘Nor do I. I cannot see how claiming you are to marry my son and heir can be construed as teasing, but since you seem to be in some doubt then I will say it plainly. As your guardian, I have found you a suitable husband. The engagement will be announced at the ball and the marriage will take place at the end of the summer.’

  ‘No!’ said Eliza, rising in her seat and throwing her napkin down on the table.

  ‘No?’ asked my father in surprise.

  ‘No, sir, I am sorry, but I cannot marry Harry.’

  ‘Well, well, that sounds very definite.’

  ‘I do not love him.’

  ‘And what, pray, does that have to do with anything?’

  ‘It has everything to do with it,’ she cried passionately.

  ‘Marriages are contracted for the good of the parties involved, not for some romantic notions. You are of a marriageable age and it is my duty as your guardian to find you a husband. Your fortune entitles you to an eldest son, one from an old and respectable family with a fine estate, who can provide you with comfort, ease and security, and that is what you will have.’

  ‘It is not enough for me. I will not marry without love!’ she declared vehemently.

  ‘Dear me, you have been reading too much poetry. You have confused it with reality. There is no such thing as love.’

  ‘That is where you are wrong, sir. There is; I have found it. I am in love with James.’

  ‘James?’ asked my father, surprised. ‘The future attorney? My dear, it is you who surely jest. What kind of life can he give you, a mere boy of eighteen with no influential friends or relations to help him, and no prospects? Unless he marries an heiress he will have next to nothing, and if he marries a young lady with thirty thousand pounds then he can hardly be expected to marry you as well.’

  ‘I am an heiress,’ she said defiantly.

  ‘Ah, I see,’ he said, turning to me. He raised his glass. ‘I must congratulate you, James. It seems I have underestimated you. I believed all your nonsense about studying hard and gaining a degree, but I see now that your interest in the law was nothing but a screen. You have not been cultivating useful friendships at university, for you needed none. You have been courting an heiress closer to home.’

  ‘I do not want Eliza’s fortune,’ I declared, having had enough of his humours and, being so nearly touched, becoming angry. ‘Indeed, I will not touch a penny of it.’

  ‘I should hope not, for it will belong to your brother, and although he is an idle fellow in many respects, I imagine he would make a fuss if you tried to steal his money.’

  ‘You cannot marry Eliza to Harry, sir. Look at him!’ I said, for Harry was slumped across the table. ‘Let me marry Eliza. Give me your permission, give us your blessing, and you will not regret it, I promise you.’

  ‘There can be no question of it. I would be remiss in my duties if I allowed my ward to marry a younger son.’

  ‘But a younger son who loves her!’

  ‘Love again! And this time from a young man, who ought to know better, instead of a naïve young girl. It must be education that has done this to you. Indeed, education appears to have ruined both my sons; it is the curse of literature. My eldest son seems to think he is Tom Jones, for he is busy seducing every wench in the countryside, whilst my youngest thinks he is Romeo! Worse still,’ he said, turning to Eliza, ‘he has convinced you that you are Juliet, my dear.’

  ‘It is nothing of the sort,’ I said. ‘We are not children who do not know the ways of the world. We are quite old enough to understand the realities of life, sir, I do assure you. But we have known for some time that we are in love with each other, and we planned to marry anyway.’

  ‘Do you not think, if your intentions towards Eliza had been honourable, you should have asked her guardian’s permission to pay your addresses to her?’ he asked.

  ‘I . . .’ I drew myself up. ‘You are right, sir. I should have done so. I ask you now. May I have your permission to address your ward?’

  ‘Certainly not. You are far too young, and you have nothing to offer her. Furthermore, she is already engaged.’

  ‘To a man she does not love. You are abusing your position. You are marrying her to Harry for her money.’

  ‘It is good of you to give me the benefit of your experience and to advise me on my responsibilities as a guardian, but you must allow me to do as I think fit instead of following the guidance of an eighteen-year-old boy.’

  ‘Harry can have my money,’ said Eliza. ‘I do not want it. I will marry James without it.’

  ‘My dear, I cannot allow it. It seems sensible to you now, at seventeen, but you would never forgive me at twenty-seven, and rightly so. You will gain stability and security from your marriage, as well as standing in the neighbourhood, and your future will be assured. Harry, in return, will gain the means to pay off the family debts and restore the estate. It is an estimable match in every way.’

  ‘I cannot stand by and — ’ I began, but he cut me off.

  ‘What have they been teaching you at Oxford? Sedition and revolt, it would seem, when they should have been teaching you to respect your elders. However, amusing as this conversation might be, I regret I must now put an end to it. Eliza, you will wed Harry, and, James, you will find your own heiress to marry.’

  He pushed his chair back from the table.

  ‘And if I do not want to be Harry’s wife?’ asked Eliza defiantly.

  He stood up.

  ‘We none of us have what we want in this world. If we did, I would have dutiful children who would do as I bid them with a smile; instead of which I have a drunkard for an heir, a fool for a younger son and a disobedient girl for a ward. But we all have our disappointments in life, and I see no reason why you should not have yours as well as anyone else.’

  He would discuss it no more in the dining room, and once we retired to the drawing room, he took up his newspaper so that we could not discuss it then, either.

  Harry snored in a corner. Eliza played the piano listlessly and soon, declaring she was tired, retired for the night.

  ‘I will not marry him,’ she said to me in an undertone as she passed me on her way out of the room.

  ‘Never fear, it will not come to that,’ I said.

  And it will not. I will not let her marry my brother.

  Saturday 27 June

  I slept badly, and when I found Eliza walking in the garden at dawn, I knew that she had slept badly, too.

  ‘James!’ she said, turning
towards me with an anguished face. ‘What are we to do? I cannot believe that twenty-four hours can make so much difference. Yesterday we were so happy — and now . . .’

  ‘Never fear,’ I said, taking her hands consolingly. ‘I will speak to my father again. Now that he has had time to think about it, he must see that it is impossible and he will relent.’

  She sighed from the bottom of her heart.

  ‘That is a vain hope, you know it as well as I do. He has already decided, and nothing you or I can say will change his mind. Even if he relents as far as your brother is concerned, he will never allow me to marry you.’

  ‘Courage!’ I said, taking her arm and walking on with her. ‘We will be together, no matter what, Eliza. That I promise you.’

  ‘But how can you promise it? If he refuses to see reason, then we are lost.’

  ‘No. If all else fails, then we will elope.’

  ‘Elope?’ She turned to me with hope in her eyes. ‘Oh, yes, James, that is what we must do. We can go to Scotland and be married there.’

  ‘But first I must speak to my father again,’ I said. ‘I must give him a chance to change his mind. An elopement must be our last resort, for it will ruin your reputation — ’

  ‘What do I care for my reputation if I can be with you? ’

  ‘And we will have very little to live on. I have some money from my mother which should enable us to manage — ’

  ‘Until I come into my inheritance.’

  ‘Until I find some employment. I have told you before — ’

  ‘The situation is different now. You must see that! Without the support of your family, we will need more money, and I have money. We must use it, James.’ She set her chin stubbornly. ‘I will not marry you otherwise.’

  ‘We will talk about this later.’

  ‘No,’ she said, determined. ‘We will talk about it now.’

  ‘Very well,’ I conceded. ‘We will use your fortune if we need it.’

  ‘And that is as much as I can hope for, I suppose, though it seems nonsensical to do without it when our lives would be so much more comfortable with it.’

  ‘You forget, it will not be yours for some years yet. Even if I agree to use it, we will have to manage on our own for some time. We will have to live simply, and we will not have money for the elegancies of life, but we will be together.’

  ‘As long as your father gives in. Go and speak to him now, James, do not delay. See if you can persuade him. Let us know our fate.’

  ‘There is no point in speaking to him before he has had his breakfast, for he will not listen to me favourably on an empty stomach. But once he has eaten, I hope to find him in a mellower frame of mind, and then, perhaps, he will see that we are determined not to be parted.’

  We continued on our way, making plans for the future, until at last I felt it was late enough to speak to my father. I went indoors and found him in his study. He looked up when I entered but then looked down again and carried on with his letter.

  ‘I hope you have not come to speak to me again about your brother’s engagement.’

  ‘No. I have come to speak to you about Eliza’s engagement. ’

  ‘They are one and the same.’

  ‘You cannot mean to force her into a marriage that is distasteful to her,’ I said. ‘She deserves more from you than that.’

  ‘She will soon accustom herself to it, as will you, no matter how much you both think otherwise at the moment. Young people always think it is the end of the world if they cannot choose their own spouse, but they quickly realize that the elegancies and comforts of life are worth more than so-called love, for elegancies and comforts are solid and longer lasting. If the young couple are fortunate, and have sensible elders to protect them, they realize this fact before they rush into a precipitate marriage. If they are unlucky, they realize it afterwards, when they are left with nothing but penury and bitterness to comfort them for their folly.’

  I remonstrated with him, but he would not listen, and at last I had to retreat, defeated.

  Eliza saw by my face that my news was not good, and when I had told her what he said, she replied, ‘Then we have to elope.’

  I did not like it, but I could not see any way of avoiding it.

  ‘You are right, my love, there is no alternative.’

  ‘We can leave tonight.’

  ‘Yes, tonight. Have your maid pack your things whilst we are at dinner. We will leave at midnight, when my father and Harry have retired. I will have a carriage meet us at the end of the lane, so that the horses do not disturb the household, and then we will be away.’

  She took my hands and I felt them tremble.

  ‘Frightened?’ I asked her.

  ‘No. Excited at the thought of our new life together. Where will we go once we are married, do you think?’

  ‘We will go to Oxford. We can take lodgings and set up house there. You will like Oxford, it is an interesting place, and there are some remarkable people. Besides, I have a friend whose father is a lawyer there and I think he might find a place for me.’

  She took my arm and squeezed it as we walked towards the stables.

  ‘I am looking forward to it already!’ she said. ‘This has been a good thing, after all, James, for it has brought all the waiting to an end. Now we can be together, as we were meant to be.’

  We continued to talk of our future until we reached the stables, then she left me and I went into town to make the necessary arrangements.

  Once my business was done, I returned home and told my valet to pack my things as I was going away. I wrote a letter to my father and put it in my pocket, ready to place on his desk just before midnight.

  I dressed for dinner and was about to go downstairs when the door opened, and to my surprise, my father entered the room. His presence there was so unusual that my heart misgave me, and as soon as he began to speak, I knew that we were undone.

  ‘I have some advice for you, James,’ he said, in his dry manner. ‘Always believe the worst of people, my boy, and then they will never disappoint you. I have thought the best of people, and I have been sadly deceived, for I have discovered that my ward has been planning to elope to Scotland behind my back, and that my son has been her partner in this treachery; and this, when he has plans to become a lawyer.’

  ‘I can assure you, sir — ’

  ‘You can assure me of nothing, my boy, so pray do not add falsehood to your many faults. Eliza’s maid is loyal to me, or, at least, loyal to the reward she hopes I will give her, and she has told me everything I need to know. You will go to your great-aunt Isabella, and you will not be welcome in this house until your brother is safely married to Eliza.’

  I drew myself up.

  ‘Then, sir, I shall never be welcome here again, for Eliza will never marry my brother.’

  ‘Dear me, how vainglorious young people are! I hesitate to shatter your illusions, but Eliza’s future has nothing to do with you. She will see reason and she will do her duty, like every other young girl before her.’

  ‘She does not love him, and you cannot force her to marry him,’ I said coldly. ‘Would it not be better to accept that she is in love with me and allow our marriage?’

  ‘We have already spoken of this at length and we will speak of it no more. You will leave for your aunt’s house at once. The carriage is at the door.’

  ‘I am sorry to disappoint you, sir, but I will not go without Eliza.’

  He grew irascible.

  ‘That sounds very definite, but I assure you, you are mistaken, for if you refuse to leave, then the footmen will escort you to the coach.’

  I looked beyond him and saw that two of the footmen were standing in the passage behind him. I could tell that they did not like it, for their faces were grim, but I knew that they would do their duty or lose their positions, so to spare them, and myself, the indignity of a forcible ejection, I said, ‘You have me at a disadvantage, I see. Very well. I will do as you say.’

&
nbsp; I knew there was no more I could do for the moment, so I picked up my portmanteau and he stood aside to allow me to leave the room. I went along the corridor, followed by my father and the footmen, but as I did so, I was already planning to return for Eliza. I would do it when my father was away from home, making his annual visit to London to attend to business matters. I was only sorry that I would not have a chance to speak to her before I left and tell her of my new plan.

  As I reached the top of the stairs, however, I heard the sound of footsteps and I saw Eliza running towards me from her chamber in the east wing. Harry, unusually alert, was following her, and he caught up with her at the top of the stairs, putting his arms round her to restrain her. He grinned at me as he did it, and I lunged towards him, ready to knock him down. But the two footmen closed in behind me and held my arms.

  ‘I will never marry him!’ cried Eliza, struggling to free herself. ‘Never. They cannot make me. Nothing will ever make me abandon you. I love you, James. Only you.’

  ‘We will be together, I promise you,’ I said.

  She became calm and my brother let her go. My last sight of her was of her standing upright, with a defiant gleam in her eye, at the top of the stairs.

  I went out to the carriage.

  Instead of setting out for Gretna Green, as I had hoped, I found myself setting out for my great-aunt’s house. But I knew that all was not lost. It was a delay, and not a disaster.

  Tuesday 30 June

  The journey was long and uncomfortable, for my father had ordered the old coach, and it rumbled along at a funereal pace, stopping only to change the horses on its way to Langley Castle. I fell asleep at last, rocked by the motion, and arrived with aches and pains in my neck and legs but otherwise refreshed.

  The house was as grim as I remembered it. Grey turrets were outlined against the gloomy sky, and I felt my spirits drop as I went inside.

  There was an air of decay in the hall, with its suits of armour and weapons from bygone eras displayed as though they were treasures. They had not been cleaned for a very long time. The metal was dull. The portraits of dour ancestors frowned down on me, as if condemning me for being young and in love.