Charlotte Smith- Collected Poetical Works

by Charlotte Smith

  Tho’ Godolphin saw in her apprehensions for the safety of Delamere, only a conviction of her tender regard for him, and considered his own attachment as every way desperate; yet he could not refuse himself, when it was thus offered him, the pleasure of being with her — the exquisite tho’ painful delight of being useful to her. He therefore eagerly expressed the readiness, the happiness, with which he should undertake so precious a charge.

  Emmeline, fearful of betraying her real sentiments, overacted the civil coldness with which she thought it necessary to refuse this offer. Godolphin, mortified and vexed at her manner as much as at her denial, ceased to press his services; and Lord Westhaven, who wondered what could be her objection, since of the honour and propriety of Godolphin’s conduct he knew she could not doubt, seemed hurt at her rejection of his brother’s friendly intention of waiting on her; and dropping the conversation, went away with Godolphin.

  She saw that her conduct inevitably impressed on the mind of the latter a conviction of her returning regard for Delamere; and she feared that to Lord Westhaven it might appear to be the effect of vanity and coquetry.

  ‘Perhaps he will think me,’ said she, ‘so vain as to suppose that Godolphin has also designs, and that therefore I decline his attendance; and coquet enough to wish for the pursuit of these men, whom I only affect to shun, and for that reason prefer going alone, to accepting the protection of his brother. Yet as I know the sentiments of Godolphin, which it appears Lord Westhaven does not, surely I had better suffer his ill opinion of me, than encourage Godolphin’s hopes; which, till Delamere can be diverted from prosecuting his unwelcome addresses, will inevitably involve him in a dispute, and such a dispute as I cannot bear to think of.’

  Uncertain what to do, another day passed; and on the following morning, while she waited for Lady Westhaven, she was addressed by Godolphin, who calmly and gravely enquired if she would honour him with any commands for England?

  ‘Are you going then, Sir, before my Lord and Lady?’

  ‘I am going, Madam, immediately.’

  ‘By way of Paris?’

  ‘Yes, Madam, to Havre; whence I shall get the quickest to Southampton, and to the Isle of Wight. I am uneasy at the entire solitude to which my absence condemns Adelina.’

  ‘You have heard no unfavourable news, I hope, of Lady Adelina or your little boy?’

  ‘None. But I am impatient to return to them.’

  ‘As you are going immediately, Sir,’ said Emmeline (making an effort to conquer a pain she felt rising in her bosom) ‘I will not detain you by writing to Lady Adelina. Perhaps — as it is possible — as I hope’ —

  She stopped. Godolphin looked anxious to hear what was possible, what she hoped.

  ‘As I shall so soon, so very soon be in England, perhaps we may meet,’ reassumed she, speaking very quick— ‘possibly I may have the happiness of seeing her Ladyship and dear little William.’

  ‘To meet you,’ replied Godolphin, very solemnly, ‘Adelina shall leave her solitude; for certainly a journey to see her in it will hardly be undertaken by Lady Delamere.’

  He then in the same tone wished her health and happiness till he saw her again, and left her.

  He was no sooner gone, than she felt disposed to follow him and apologize for her having so coldly refused his offers of protection. Pride and timidity prevented her; but they could not stop her tears, which she was obliged to conceal by hurrying to her own room. Lady Westhaven soon after sent for her to a late breakfast: she found Lord Delamere there; but heard that Godolphin was gone.

  Soon after breakfast, Lady Westhaven and her brother, (who could not yet obtain a clear intermission of the fever which hung about him, and who continued extremely weak,) went out together for an airing; and Lord Westhaven, unusually grave, was left reading in the room with Emmeline.

  He laid down his book. ‘So,’ said he, ‘William is flown away from us.’

  It was a topic on which Emmeline did not care to trust her voice.

  ‘I wish you could have determined to have gone with him.’

  ‘I wish, my Lord, I could have reconciled it to my ideas of propriety; since certainly I should have been happy and safe in such an escort; and since, without any at all, I must, in a day or two, go.’

  ‘I believe it will be best. Lord Delamere is no better; and Bellozane has no thought of leaving us entirely, tho’ his military friends take up so much of his time that he is luckily less with Delamere. Lord Delamere has again, Miss Mowbray, been imploring me to apply to you. He wishes you only to hear him. He complains that you fly from him, and will not give him an opportunity of entering on his justification.’

  ‘I am extremely concerned at Lord Delamere’s unhappiness. But I must repeat that I require of his Lordship no justification; that I most sincerely forgive him if he supposes he has injured me; but that as to any proposals such as he once honoured me with, I am absolutely resolved never to listen to them; and I entreat him to believe that any future application on the subject must be entirely fruitless.’

  ‘Poor young man!’ said Lord Westhaven. ‘However you must consent to see him alone, and to tell him so yourself; for from me he will not believe you so very inflexible — so very cruel.’

  ‘I am inflexible, my Lord, but surely not cruel. The greatest cruelty of which I could be guilty, either to Lord Delamere or myself, would be to accept his offers, feeling as I feel, and thinking as I think.’

  ‘I do not know how we shall get him to England, or what will be done with him when he is there.’

  ‘He will do well, my Lord. Doubt it not.’

  ‘Upon my honour I do doubt it! It is to me astonishing that a young man so volatile, so high-spirited as Delamere, should be capable of an attachment at once so violent and so steady.’

  ‘Steady! — Has your Lordship forgotten Miss Otley?’

  ‘His wavering then was, you well know, owing to some evil impressions he had received of you; which, tho’ he refuses to tell me the particulars, he assures me were conveyed and confirmed with so much art, that a more dispassionate and cooler lover would have believed them without enquiry. How then can you wonder at his petulant and eager spirit seizing on probable circumstances, which his jealousy and apprehension immediately converted into conviction? As soon as he knew these suspicions were groundless, did he not fly to implore your pardon; and hasten, even at the hazard of his life, to find and appease you? Such is the present situation of his mind and of his health, that I very seriously assure you I doubt whether he will survive your total rejection.’

  Emmeline, unable to answer this speech gravely, without betraying the very great concern it gave her, assumed a levity she did not feel.

  ‘Your Lordship,’ said she, ‘is disposed to think thus, from the warm and vehement manner in which Lord Delamere is accustomed to express himself. If he is really unhappy, I am very sorry; but I am persuaded time, and the more fortunate alliance which he is solicited to form, will effect a cure. Don’t think me unfeeling if I answer your melancholy prophecy in the words of Rosalind —

  ‘Men have died from time to time, and worms have eat them — but not for love.’

  She then ran away, and losing all her forced spirits the moment she was alone, gave way to tears. She fancied they flowed entirely for the unhappiness of poor Delamere, and for her uncertain situation. But tho’ the former uneasiness deeply affected her sensible heart, many of the tears she shed were because Godolphin was gone, and she knew not when she should again see him.

  Godolphin, repining and wretched, pursued his way to Paris. He thought that Emmeline’s coldness and reserve were meant to put an end to any hopes he might have entertained; and that her reconciliation and marriage with Lord Delamere must inevitably take place as soon as she had, by her dissimulated cruelty, punished him for his rashness and his errors. His daily observation confirmed him in this opinion: he saw, that in place of her candid and ingenuous manners, a studied conduct was adopted, which concealed her real sent
iments — sentiments which he concluded to be all in favour of Delamere. And finding that he could not divest himself of his passion for her, he thought that it was a weakness, if not a crime, to indulge it in her presence, while it imposed on himself an insupportable torment; and that, by quitting her, he should at least conceal his hopeless attachment, and save himself the misery of seeing her actually married to Lord Delamere. He determined, therefore, to tear himself away; and to punish himself for the premature expectations with which he had begun his journey to St. Alpin, by shutting himself up at East Cliff (his house in the Isle of Wight) and refusing himself the sight of her, of whom it would be sufficient misery to think, when she had given herself to her favoured and fortunate lover.

  Full of these reflections, Godolphin continued his road, intending to take the passage boat at Havre. But at the hotel he frequented at Paris, he met a gentleman of his acquaintance who was going the next day to England by way of Calais; and as he had his own post chaise, and only his valet with him, he told Godolphin that if he would take a place in his chaise he would send his servant post. This offer Godolphin accepted; and altering his original design, went with his friend to Calais to cross to England.

  CHAPTER VII

  It was now impossible for Emmeline to avoid a conversation with Lord Delamere, which his sister urged her so earnestly to allow him. Bellozane was, by the French officers, with whom he principally lived, engaged out for two days; and Lord and Lady Westhaven easily found an opportunity to leave Emmeline with Delamere.

  He was no sooner alone in her presence, than he threw himself on his knees before her— ‘Will you,’ cried he, ‘ah! will you still refuse to hear and to forgive me? Have I offended beyond all hopes of pardon?’

  ‘No, my Lord. — I do most readily and truly forgive every offence, whether real or imaginary, that you believe you have committed against me.’

  ‘You forgive me — But to what purpose? — Only to plunge me yet deeper into wretchedness. You forgive me — but you despise, you throw me from you for ever. Ah! rather continue to be angry, than distract me by a pardon so cold and careless!’

  ‘If your Lordship will be calm — if you will rise, and hear me with temper, I will be very explicit with you; but while you yield to these extravagant transports, I cannot explain all I wish you to understand; and must indeed beg to be released from a conversation so painful to me, and to you so prejudicial.’

  Delamere rose and took a chair.

  ‘I need not, Sir,’ said Emmeline, collecting all her courage, ‘recall to your memory the time so lately passed, when I engaged to become your’s, if at the expiration of a certain period Lord and Lady Montreville consented, and you still remained disposed to bestow on me the honour of your name.’

  ‘What am I to expect,’ cried Delamere, eagerly interrupting her— ‘Ah! what am I to expect from a preface so cold and cruel? You have indeed no occasion to recall to my memory those days when I was allowed to look forward to that happiness, which now, thro’ the villainy of others, and my own madness and ideotism, I have lost. But, Madam, it must not, it cannot be so easily relinquished! By heaven I will not give you up! — and if but for a moment I thought —— .’

  ‘You seemed just now, Sir, disposed to hear me with patience. Since, however, you cannot even for a few minutes forbear these starts of passion, I really am unequal to the task of staying with you.’

  She would then have hastened away; but Delamere forcibly detaining her, again protested he would be calm, and again she went on.

  ‘At that time, I will own to you, that without any prepossession, almost without a wish either to accept or decline the very high honour you offered me, I was content to engage myself to be your wife; because you said such an engagement would make you happy, and because I then knew not that it would render me otherwise.’

  ‘Was you even then thus indifferent? Had I no place in your heart, Madam, when you would have given me your hand?’

  ‘Yes, Sir — you had then the place I now willingly restore to you. I esteemed you; I looked upon you with a sisterly affection; and had I married you, it would have been rather to have made you happy, than because I had any wish to form other ties than those by which our relationship and early acquaintance had connected us.’

  ‘Ah! my angelic Emmeline! it will still make me happy! Let the reasons which then influenced you, again plead for me; and forget, O! forget all that has passed since my headlong folly urged me to insult and forsake you!’

  ‘Alas! my Lord, that is not in my power! You have cancelled the engagements that subsisted between us; and, as I understand, have actually formed others more indissoluble, with a lady of high rank and of immense fortune — one whose alliance is as anxiously courted by your family, as mine is despised. Can your Lordship again fly from your promises? Can you quit at pleasure the affluent and high-born heiress as you quitted the deserted and solitary orphan?’

  ‘Cursed, cursed cruelty!’ exclaimed Delamere, speaking thro’ his shut teeth — But go on, Madam! I deserve your severity, and must bear your reproaches! Yet surely you know that but for the machinations of those execrable Crofts’, I should never have acted as I did — you know, that however destitute of fortune chance had made you, I preferred you to all those who might have brought me wealth!’

  ‘I acknowledge your generosity, Sir, and on that head meant not to reproach. I merely intended to represent to you what you seem to have forgotten — that were I disposed to restore you the hand you so lately renounced, you could not take it; since Miss Otley will certainly not relinquish the claim you have given her to your regard.’

  ‘You are misinformed. — I am under no engagement to Miss Otley. — I am not by heaven! by all that is sacred!’

  ‘Were not all preparations for your marriage in great forwardness, Sir, when you left England? and must not your consent have been previously obtained before Lord Montreville would have made them? However, to put an end to all uncertainty, I must tell you, my Lord, with a sincerity which will probably be displeasing to you, that my affections—’

  ‘Are no longer in your own power!’ cried he, hastily interrupting her— ‘Speak, Madam — is it not so?’

  ‘I did not say that, Sir. I was going to assure you that I now find it impossible to command them — impossible to feel for you that preference, without which I should think myself extremely culpable were I to give you my hand.’

  ‘I understand you, Madam! You give that preference to another. The Chevalier de Bellozane has succeeded to your affections. He has doubtless made good use of the opportunities he has had to conciliate your favour; but before he carries his good fortune farther, he must discuss with me the right by which he pretends to it.’

  ‘Whether he has or has not a right to pretend to my regard, Sir,’ said Emmeline, with great spirit, ‘this causeless jealousy, so immediately after you have been convinced of the fallacy of your supposition in regard to another person, convinces me, that had I unfortunately given you an exclusive claim to my friendship and affection, my whole life would have been embittered by suspicion, jealousy, and caprice. Recollect, my Lord, that I have said nothing of the Chevalier de Bellozane, nor have you the least reason to believe I have for him those sentiments you are pleased to impute to me.’

  ‘But can I doubt it!’ exclaimed Delamere, rising, and walking about in an agony— ‘Can I doubt it, when I have heard you disclaim me for ever! — when you have told me your affections are no longer in your power!’

  ‘No, Sir; my meaning was, what I now repeat — that as my near relation, as my friend, as the brother of Lady Westhaven, I shall ever esteem and regard you; but that I cannot command now in your favour those sentiments which should induce me to accept of you as my husband. What is past cannot be recalled; and tho’ I am most truly concerned to see you unhappy, my determination is fixed and I must abide by it.’

  ‘Death and hell!’ cried the agonized Delamere— ‘It is all over then! You utterly disclaim me, and hardly
think it worth while to conceal from me for whose sake I am disclaimed!’

  Emmeline was terrified to find that he still persisted in imputing her estrangement from him to her partiality for Bellozane; foreseeing that he would immediately fly to him, and that all she apprehended must follow.

  ‘I beg, I entreat, Lord Delamere, that you will understand that I give no preference to Mr. de Bellozane. I will not only assure you of that, but I disclaim all intention of marriage whatever! Suffer me, my Lord, to entreat that you will endeavour to calm your mind and regain your health. Reflect on the cruel uncertainty in which you have left the Marquis and the Marchioness; reflect on the uneasy situation in which you keep Lord and Lady Westhaven, and on the great injury you do yourself; and resolutely attempt, in the certainty of succeeding, to divest yourself of a fatal partiality, which has hitherto produced only misery to you and to your family.’

  ‘Oh! most certainly, most certainly!’ cried Delamere, almost choaked with passion— ‘I shall undoubtedly make all these wise reflections; and after having gone thro’ a proper course of them, shall, possibly, with great composure, see you in the arms of that presumptuous coxcomb — that vain, supercilious Frenchman! — that detested Bellozane! No, Madam! no! you may certainly give yourself to him, but assure yourself I live not to see it!’

  He flew out of the room at these words, tho’ she attempted to stop and to appease him. Her heart bled at the wounds she had yet thought it necessary to inflict; and she was at once grieved and terrified at his menacing and abrupt departure. She immediately went herself after Lord Westhaven, to intreat him to keep Bellozane and Delamere apart. His Lordship was much disturbed at what had passed, which Emmeline faithfully related to him: Bellozane was still out of town; and Lord Westhaven, who now apprehended that on Delamere’s meeting him he would immediately insult him, said he would consider what could be done to prevent their seeing each other ‘till Delamere became more reasonable. On enquiry, he found that the Chevalier was certainly engaged with his companions ‘till the next day. He therefore came back to Emmeline about an hour after he had left her, and told her that he thought it best for her to set out that afternoon on her way to St. Germains.