I prayed for a swift swerve by either party, but it did not happen, and I took a deep breath. Surely enough, a few seconds later, Mr Bingley and Mr Allen recognised and greeted each other amicably. Harriet, her cheeks flushed, kept her eyes demurely lowered. After some moments of conversation, Mr Allen seemed to remember his young charge, and brought his friend’s attention to her. Mr Bingley politely bowed in her direction, and she gave him a graceful curtsey. Soon afterwards, Mr Allen and Harriet were by our side with the drinks, to the delight of poor Mrs Allen, who was fanning herself and sweating profusely. Harriet was beaming. As she handed me my tea, she spoke in hushed tones.
“Did you see him? He addressed me with great feeling, did he not?”
Nothing in Mr Bingley’s behaviour had suggested anything other than good breeding, but I nodded. Harriet smiled with satisfaction.
“How pleasant to see that one’s charms are not diminished after two weeks of forced separation. Is he not the best-looking man you ever saw?”
At that moment, a young couple in haste inadvertently ran into Mrs Allen, who let out a cry. I felt a warm wetness on my thighs and looked down: there was tea all over my white muslin gown. Mr Allen was livid.
“I cannot believe the rudeness of some people!” he grunted, visibly appalled.
His wife appeared to be more preoccupied with the immediate consequences of the spillage.
“Let me see, Miss Price. Oh, it is ruined! It will not wash, for sure. I know my muslins, I always have. What a shame!”
I tried to assuage Mrs Allen’s concerns while rubbing a tea towel that a portly-looking usher had brought me, but she was right. My efforts produced no satisfying result. Then I heard the last voice I expected to hear in the Bath Assembly Rooms.
“Miss Price! Another pleasant coincidence!”
Holding the dirty cloth in my hand, I looked up. Jamie Gartner was standing in front of me, beaming. His smile turned into a frown when he saw my tea-stained dress.
“Can I be of any assistance?”
I blushed, shook my head and mumbled something. His gaze was burning my skin. To hide my embarrassment, I introduced Jamie to my companions, and to my relief, Mr Allen began to ask him a great many questions. Their conversation immediately touched upon Jamie’s occupation. Jamie, it turned out, had studied at the prestigious Haileybury College and had subsequently acquired a clerking post at the East India Company.
“Do you happen to know a Mr Payne? He has a post in the main registry.”
“It is my pleasure to work alongside him, sir.”
“Do you really? It is a small world, indeed. And do you plan to remain in the London office or are you destined to go abroad?”
“I have applied for a post in Calcutta. It is an important port and offers great opportunities for a writer like me as the company grows.”
Mr Allen appeared impressed, and invited Jamie, who confessed he was on his own, to join our little party. He readily accepted, to the delight of Mrs Allen and Miss Morland, who had been clinging to his every word. As we walked downstairs, Harriet whispered in my ear.
“You never said you had such charming friends. I quite believe that Mr Gartner is the handsomest man I have ever had the pleasure of speaking to.”
“Even more so than Mr Bingley?” I asked, only half-jokingly.
Harriet laughed, showing her pretty, even teeth, and turned to observe Jamie as he was helping Mr Allen find us a place to sit. I felt a pang of jealousy.
The only spot the men found had no view of the dance floor, but I was glad, for it gave me the chance to conceal my stained gown.
“Are you not going to ask one of my young ladies to dance with you?” Mrs Allen asked Jamie once we were comfortably settled.
“I don’t know if they are prepared to risk their seats.”
He winked in my direction, just as he used to do in Portsmouth. My heart jumped with joy and I smiled at his playful tone, so reminiscent of the Jamie I knew.
“I certainly am, Mr Gartner! I am dying for a dance!” exclaimed Harriet before I could speak.
Jamie peeled his eyes off mine and gallantly offered his hand to my friend. Harriet eagerly took it, stood up from her chair and followed him to the dance floor.
I sighed. Then, Mrs Allen’s fan tapped my arm.
“Have you known Mr Gartner long, then?”
“We grew up together,” I replied, trying to sound more animated than I felt. “He was a good friend of my brothers.”
My delicacy prevented me from mentioning Richard’s sad fate.
“He appears to have done very well for himself. A son of my cousin’s attended the East India College in Hertfordshire a few years ago, and his mother likes to go on about how only the most talented manage to secure a place, and how well he speaks all manners of strange languages, and how good he is with numbers.”
“He was always a very bright boy,” I replied with a smile.
“He must have very good patrons, too. My cousin tells me that, in order to be accepted into that fancy college, students need to be recommended by people in high places. They are also expected to pay hefty fees, although to be fair, their studies set them up for life. Do they not, Mr Allen?”
“My understanding is that posts abroad offer excellent prospects,” replied Mr Allen, stroking his chin. “Mr Gartner is not married, is he?”
“No, I do not think so,” I replied.
“Well, if he is to travel to the East Indies, he will be in a hurry to find himself a wife,” said he. “There are very few Englishwomen in those lands.”
Mrs Allen let out a cry of delight. I did not wish to hear more. I mumbled an excuse, stood up and searched for Harriet’s pale green gown amongst the dancers. I saw her chat animatedly to Jamie, looking like the happiest girl in the room. I waited, hoping to catch his gaze again, but Mrs Allen tapped my thigh with her fan and I sat down again.
“Are they dancing beautifully?”
“They are,” I replied, with surprise in my voice. I had never known Jamie to dance.
“Excellent. Mrs Morland will be distraught at the thought of having a daughter in Calcutta, but I dare say that she will eventually warm to the idea, and anyway, with another two girls in Fullerton, she will never be out of company. ”
I felt a sense of panic grow inside of me. I stood up again to search for Jamie’s dark locks amongst the dancers, but instead felt someone watching me. My blood froze. Mr Cole’s steely eyes were set on mine. I immediately sat down again, clasping my hands over my lap.
“There is a gentleman over there who has not stopped looking at you,” said Mr Allen, pointing in Mr Cole’s direction. “He is a little dark-skinned, as if he had spent time abroad. I wonder if he, too, is looking for a wife.”
“I bet he would like to ask Miss Price for a dance. If only they were acquainted!”
At that instant, the pompously attired Master of Ceremonies appeared in our field of vision. To my dismay, Mr Cole approached him confidently and, after a brief conversation, pointed his finger in my direction. An invisible hand circled my throat. Moments later, Mr Cole was introduced to our little party and, after exchanging pleasantries with Mr and Mr Allen, he asked me to be his dancing partner. I tried to politely decline his offer, but Mrs Allen was determined to see me dance, so I had to resign myself to have Mr Cole as dance partner. Thankful for the kid leather between my touch and his, I began to dance, determined to avoid his gaze and say as little as possible.
“So we meet again, Miss Price, and in rather different circumstances.”
Mortified at his allusion of our first encounter, I refused to answer. Then I caught sight of some light green satin. Harriet and Jamie were dancing together again. My heart sank further.
“You may not wish to acknowledge our prior conversation, but you must feel vindicated by it. Everything that you told me has proven to be true.” Then, lowering his voice, he added, “Of course, that does not excuse your reprehensible behaviour.”
“If y
ou continue to insult me, I shall leave this moment, sir,” I declared, my cheeks burning with indignation.
“You are as delightfully fierce as I remembered,” he whispered. “Just what I like.”
His lips twisted into a grin. I recoiled, and in the next twirl, I deliberately stepped on his his toe as hard as I could. He winced with pain.
“Feisty Miss Price! You do not realise that you are in no position to play games with me. That is, unless you wish me to inform your uncle that I caught you spying in a room full of gentlemen at his daughter’s own home.”
I bit my lip and looked away. I saw Jamie’s face amidst the crowd, but it was just for an instant.
“Let us talk about something more agreeable, shall we? Is your aunt in good health? I was rather shocked when you abandoned her. Luckily for her, I was observing your movements and in a position to intervene.”
“Were you watching us? How dare you!” I exclaimed.
“You feel vexed, but will not leave,” said he, tightening his grip around my gloved hands. “I am beginning to think you are enjoying our little chat.”
Had I had the power to kill Mr Cole with my gaze, I would have done so that instant. Thankfully, the dance ended and I returned hastily to my seat. To my disgust, Mr Cole followed me.
“I hope you enjoyed the dance with Miss Price,” said Mr Allen to Mr Cole. “Miss Morland will return in no time if you are in want of another dance partner.”
“I am afraid I must rejoin my party. Miss Price, it has been a pleasure,” said Mr Cole with a bow.
I curtseyed, barely hiding my contempt, and he was gone.
Jamie and Harriet joined us instants later. The exercise had brought colour to her cheeks and she looked very fetching. Mrs Allen, who was not hiding her delight at seeing her two young charges on the dance floor at the same time, insisted that they should have yet another dance. However, to my immense relief, Jamie insisted that he had to dance with me first. With a smile, he led me to the dance floor, and I gladly followed. He was holding my hand now, his touch firm yet gentle, and I wished he would never let go of me.
On the dance floor, his steps were flawless.
“I never took you for a dancer, Mr Gartner, but I am very impressed.”
“It is strange to hear you address me by that name. It was never the case when we lived in Portsmouth,” Jamie replied, his tone warm and inviting.
“Conventions and polite society demand it, I am afraid,” I replied with a smile.
“I wish to think that, underneath our current veneer of civilisation, we are the same people, with the same beliefs and affections.”
Jamie was looking at me intently. His words were all I could wish for, and a feeling of weightlessness invaded me. I almost stopped dancing, but he gently nudged me to continue to move. Tingling all over, I realised I could not respond to him and remain composed, so I forced myself to change the subject.
“It looks like you are enjoying the Assembly Rooms very much. You have the look of a very happy man after your last dance.”
Jamie gave me a bitter smile.
“You, on the other hand, did not seem to like your previous dance partner very much. Are you much acquainted with him?”
“Not really, no,” I said, avoiding his gaze. “How long are you staying in Bath?”
“I am expected in London next week,” said Jamie, looking at me again.
“It is a short stay.”
I could not bring myself to say more.
“I am employed, and not at liberty to choose what I do with my time.”
Jamie was no longer smiling.
“You said you are due to leave for the East Indies. When will that be?”
“In October.”
“You must be thrilled. You always liked the idea of settling far.”
He looked thoughtful, but did not reply. I spoke again.
“You should let William know that you are due to move to Calcutta. He might be there with the Navy at some point.”
“You are right. It has been too long since I penned any of your brothers a letter.”
We remained silent for a few moments. After my elation, a melancholy feeling was invading me. I tried to return to our previous light-hearted exchange.
“It is rather admirable that you have not stepped on my toes once,” I said, forcing myself to smile. “I never knew you to be such a good dancer.”
“I thank you, although I must admit that the merit is not entirely mine. Mrs Robinson taught me with much skill. She was married to the late Captain Robinson, whose merchant boat I boarded in Portsmouth.”
“Was the Captain good to you?” I could not bear to hear him speak of that ghastly day.
“He was a kind man, particularly towards the youngest midshipmen. After just a few weeks on board, when he realised that I could speak a smattering of French, Norwegian and Farsi, all languages I had picked up by listening to my shipmates, he took notice of me, and when Richard died, to distract me from my grief, he offered me access to his library. I read everything I could set my eyes on, from foreign language grammar treaties to letter writing volumes. I began to apply my new skills to be of use to the Captain and, a couple of years later, he was so satisfied with my progress that he put in a recommendation for me to be accepted at Haileybury and even paid the fee. When the Captain died, I cried more than at my own father’s funeral, may God forgive me. I owe him everything.”
“And Mrs Robinson was kind to you too, I take it. Is she still alive?”
“Of course, and ever the good dancer! Did you think her an old crone?” asked he, visibly amused.
I felt my chest tighten and my stomach drop, but the dance finished and we were soon back in company. I was flustered and my mind was racing, for my conversation with Jamie had generated more questions than answers, but Harriet commanded his full attention for the little time that remained of the evening and I did not have another chance to speak to him.
My only consolation was that, when Mr Allen asked Jamie to join the dinner to which I, too, had been invited, he looked at me intently first, and only accepted after making sure I would also be present. His gesture gave me hope, and the certainty of seeing him again the following day convinced me that I would soon find out the depth of his feelings.
Chapter 10
In spite of the late night, I was up at my usual hour and in high spirits, as if the dark storm of feelings that had stirred my soul had passed and left behind a bright new morning. Humming an old sailors’ song, I dressed, savouring every memory of my dance with Jamie. I would see him again tonight, and even if Harriet tried to command his attention, I knew we would find a way to engage in conversation. Just being in the same room as him and staring into his eyes over the soup and potatoes would be a blessing, but the thought of what he might say made my heart race.
When I went downstairs, there was a surprise waiting for me on the breakfast table. The old leather pouch that Julia had claimed as hers in London was neatly placed right next to my plate. I opened it, and with delight saw that all my drawing implements - the pieces of charcoal, the stubby pencils, the old quills - were inside. It was a small miracle. I asked the footman if he had seen anyone bring it in, but he could not tell me, and after a quick breakfast, I ran to the parlour. The roses were still proudly standing in their vase, their stems as straight as soldiers. I found some paper in one of the drawers and immediately began to sketch. I was so engaged when Murphy came to find me.
“Lady Bertram is awake and is asking after you,” said the servant. Then, with a lopsided smile, she added, “You are drawing again, miss.”
“Yes, I am,” I replied, beaming.
Murphy’s cheeks were slightly coloured and she was shifting her weight from side to side. Then, I had a sudden realisation.
“You put them on the breakfast table this morning, did you not?”
“Yes, miss,” mumbled Murphy. “In London I saw Mrs Yates come down to the kitchen with them things in her hand, and I recogn
ise them straightaway, so I follows her and she throws them with the potato peels, as if they was no good to anyone!”
“So you rescued the pouch and returned it to my possession.”
“So I did.”
“I thank you for your kindness, Murphy.” She nodded, her cheeks bright red, and appear to hesitate. “Now, if I may, I must go to Lady Bertram.”
“Yes, miss,” she replied, and scurried out of the room. I sighed, put my tools to the side and went to my aunt’s bedchamber.
Lady Bertram’s head was softly resting on an embroidered pillow and her pug was sleeping at the foot of the bed. My aunt’s cheeks had more colour than the day before. The dog, on the other hand, was panting heavily, its round belly protruding more than usual. She looked at me with languid eyes when I asked her about her health.
“I feel fatigued this morning. I shall stay indoors again today.”
“Then I will keep you company, madam. I must tell you all about last night’s ball.”
Lady Bertram seemed pleased with my suggestion and, as I was preparing the strange concoction Dr Levain had ordered, I began to describe the beautiful rooms, the lively music and the elegantly-dressed crowds to my aunt.
“Did you happen to see anybody we know?”
“I ran into Mr Gartner. He was at school with my brothers when we were growing up. He is now working for the East India Company in London but intends to move to Calcutta after the summer. You may remember that he came to pay his respects at the theatre in London.”
“Oh.”
I sensed that Lady Bertram was little interested in Jamie. She probably did not even notice his brief visit to the box, so I swiftly moved on.
“I also saw that some good friends of Mr and Mrs Yates were in attendance. We also met them briefly at the Theatre Royal, when they came to Mr and Mrs Yates’ box. They are brother and sister and Bingley is their family name.”
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