by Jane Rubino
Lady Vernon was sensible of the delicacy of his situation in being her particular friend and Charles’s uncle through marriage. She assured him that no intercession would be wanted and thanked him for his counsel, and the remainder of the evening was spent in discussing the pleasures of Somerset and Mr. deCourcy’s hopes that Miss Vernon might find a friend and confidante in Miss Manwaring.
At Langford, they were received with a great deal of effusion and ceremony. The business of welcome took above an hour, for the Vernon ladies must be embraced and exclaimed over, and relate how they had traveled, and how they had left Mr. deCourcy, and whether the roads had been very hot and dirty, and whether the dust had soiled their gowns. This brought on a brief embarrassment, as the remarks must draw attention to the Vernon ladies’ black dresses and remind the Manwaring ladies of the tragedy that had brought about the invitation.
At last, it was supposed that the travelers would want to rest, and they were shown to their chambers. Lady Vernon permitted herself to be taken out of her traveling dress, and when Wilson left them, she sat down to explain the state of their affairs to Frederica.
“I will not wait for my uncle to be honorable,” declared Frederica. “My father was always inclined to be fond of Mr. Vernon and I would not dare to contradict him, but from the day of my father’s accident, I have had cause to think very ill of my uncle.”
“What cause?” her mother asked, bewildered.
“On the day of my father’s accident, I was in the wood—oh, I know that I have always been cautioned to keep away when the men were shooting, but I did not think there was any harm in going just to the edge, for I had seen a small growth of hepatia upon some of the trees, and I was certain that I could obtain a sample without getting anywhere near their party. I passed through a little copse and immediately spied my father lying upon the ground and my uncle standing motionless beside him. No alarm had been raised—and it was only when my uncle spied me that he affected anything like concern and ordered me to go for help. I cannot accuse my uncle of anything worse than the shock of discovering my father in such a state,” Frederica hastened to add. “And yet—I do think that it is his nature to at least consider how far a little delay might work to his advantage!”
As certain as Lady Vernon was of her daughter’s integrity and her brother-in-law’s want of it, she was shocked to think that Charles Vernon might have withheld assistance from his brother. One is always willing to believe that one’s relations are lying, grasping, or vain, but a suggestion of iniquity will strain all but the most forbearing nature.
“How I wish that I had arrived a minute sooner,” Frederica lamented, “or said something to Papa when he recovered his health! But I could not bring myself to introduce a matter that would raise suspicion and anxiety toward one who my father always regarded with affection—oh, if only I had spoken!”
“If you had spoken, you would only have put at variance one with whom your father had the misfortune to be on good terms. It is better that your father was never obliged to think ill of his brother. He could not have done justice to the task.”
chapter fourteen
Langford enjoyed a pleasing situation in the eastern part of Somerset. The estate was not large, but the manor house was spacious and modern. The common rooms, however, were furnished in a manner that annulled every advantage of size and light, for there was not a single settee nor table where two or three might be crammed into the space, not a solitary drapery where shades and valances might be laid on as well. The lawns were likewise cluttered with statuary and fountains, and the walks were overhung with trellises. Inside and out, nothing was left alone where more could be done to it, which kept the Manwaring property in a state of habitual clutter and chronic improvement.
Such disorder did not impose upon Lady Vernon or her daughter during their first fortnight at Langford; but the Manwarings considered two weeks to be a sufficient period of deep mourning. They must have some company and noise, and soon the house was filled up with young men who came in quest of some shooting and young ladies in quest of young men.
Among the latter were the Misses Hamilton, who were brought by their mother. Lady Hamilton was secure of her eldest, but there were the two younger girls to be disposed of, and though Miss Claudia was but eighteen and Miss Lucy a year younger, they had already been launched upon a round of visits and balls and assemblies, wherever there were eligible men to be found. They had been four months in town and six weeks at Bath before they were obliged to return to the family estate only long enough for them to remind Lord Hamilton of their affection and to coax another hundred pounds of pocket money from him before they laid siege to Somersetshire.
They had not gone immediately to Langford, for while in Bath, Lady Hamilton happened upon an old friend who introduced Sir Walter Elliot to her acquaintance. This gentleman was a widower whose middle daughter had been a schoolfellow of Miss Lucy Hamilton’s, so there was an additional source of intimacy, and before they left Bath, an engagement had been formed for Lady Hamilton and her daughters to come to the Elliots for a month or two at the end of the summer. Before the superior society of Kellynch Hall, Langford must give way. Lady Hamilton very soon understood, however, that Sir Walter Elliot’s motive had been to make a very unreasonable application for her eldest daughter, and promptly recollected an absolute promise to go to her dear friends the Manwarings. “No, Sir Walter, it cannot be put off … No, I do not think we can come back again from Langford, as I mean to have Lucy try school again, in town … Eliza Manwaring has invited my nephew Reginald deCourcy on purpose for Lavinia—I am certain you must understand what that means.” And, mortified by this rejection, Sir Walter was very happy to have them go from his quarter of Somersetshire to one that, he was certain, was very much inferior.
The elder Misses Hamilton were slight, conceited, and no more than handsome, while Miss Lucy Hamilton was high-spirited, plump, and pretty. “But, la,” she declared right after she and Frederica had been introduced, “we are very near related, are we not? Our mother is the sister of Sir Reginald deCourcy, and his daughter has married your uncle, Mr. Vernon! And we may be even more closely connected in the future, will we not, Livvy?”
This caused Miss Hamilton to simper and blush and declare that she did not know what Lucy’s meaning was in a manner that implied that she did.
Frederica was drawn aside by Maria Manwaring, who said in a low voice, “It has long been decided that Lavinia Hamilton will marry her cousin Reginald deCourcy, your Aunt Vernon’s younger brother. Have you ever met him?”
“No, never.”
“Eliza and I saw him at Bath, with his friend, Charles Smith, but we were never introduced. Mr. Lewis deCourcy twice invited us to dine on purpose to make his nephew’s acquaintance, but alas, both times he was dining elsewhere. My brother means to invite him and Mr. Smith to Langford.”
“What sort of person is Mr. Smith?” inquired Frederica.
“Oh, he is not half as good-looking as Mr. deCourcy, but he is twice as lively to make up for it,” Maria replied. “I am afraid that my brother insists upon everyone being very lively here at Langford. I hope that you do not mind it.”
“No, I do not mind it, for if that is the case, you will all be too engaged to notice if we are quiet.”
The liveliness began that evening as soon as the gentlemen joined the ladies after dinner. Lady Hamilton began to nudge and wink at her youngest daughter. Miss Lucy took the hint and immediately coaxed Maria to ask her brother’s leave for some dancing. “There is your brother and Mr. Reed and Mr. Blake and Lord Whitby for partners—and you or Miss Vernon and my sisters and me. We can make up four couples!”
Maria, who was not without feeling, reminded her friends that Miss Vernon was in mourning.
“Yes,” agreed Miss Claudia Hamilton. “Miss Vernon cannot dance, but if she can play tolerably well, there is no reason she cannot oblige us. We do not expect anything like superiority of performance, only that she give us a min
uet and a few lighter dances, and perhaps a reel to finish the evening. There can be no impropriety in that.”
Frederica deferred to her mother, who gave a nod of consent, and then sat down at the instrument, not at all sorry to be employed and very glad that she might oblige them without having to sing or dance.
To the chagrin of these fair petitioners, Miss Vernon performed so charmingly that the gentlemen began to compliment her upon the skill and expression of her playing when they ought to have been praising their partners’ grace and smiles.
Lady Vernon soon observed that to call Langford “lively” did not do it justice; each day was a perpetual quest for diversion. While the gentlemen were shooting, the ladies were obliged to set out on walking parties or picnics, or to drive the pair of phaetons round the park, or to join Eliza Manwaring when she called upon the neighbors and coaxed them back to Langford to drink tea or dine or partake of the evening’s tableaux vivants or dancing or music or card parties.
Lady Vernon concluded that the Manwarings must be very discontented with each other if they could not bear the prospect of dining en famille or passing an evening in quiet conversation, and she began to feel pity for Maria Manwaring. The uneasy union of her brother and his wife must give the poor girl a divided outlook toward matrimony; she could anticipate no pleasure in the prospect, and yet it was the only one that would remove her from a household where her brother paid court to every woman but his wife and a sister-in-law who urged the necessity of marrying upon her without exhibiting any pleasure in the state herself. Yet, to Miss Manwaring’s credit, she had not been made cynical or ill-tempered by living with her incompatible relations. Her disposition was resigned and gentle, her understanding was good, and a similarity in their natures began to draw her and Miss Vernon together. Maria found Frederica Vernon a far pleasanter companion than the Misses Hamilton, who desired to appear genteel and accomplished without either talent or application, and whose mother’s excessive flattery gave them a high degree of assurance without perfecting their abilities or refining their taste.
Maria and Frederica soon discovered that the subject of Sir James Martin was never a point of rivalry between them. Miss Manwaring had been persuaded that she ought to regard him as her object, though she had never thought of him with more than polite indifference. Frederica held her cousin in the highest esteem and yet laughed at the notion that anyone might think that he had never married because he meant to make her an offer of his hand.
As it was resolved between them that Sir James Martin was at liberty to marry anybody but themselves or each other, there was no obstacle to the two girls forming a sincere friendship.
chafer fifteen
Lady Vernon to Lady Martin
Langford, Somerset
My dear Aunt,
I am very sorry if you perceived any coldness from me in our last parting. Toward you, Aunt, there is no reproach or blame, for I know that you could not have prevented James from buying Vernon Castle. Upon further reflection, I have come to understand that a gentleman may do far worse to his family than to make them the objects of his generosity—but of that I will write no more, for you will be eager to hear how Frederica and I fare at Langford. Be assured that we have not been allowed to dwell upon the past or to contemplate the precarious state of our future. The present occupies the Manwarings completely, and they keep their company so caught up in parties and amusements and paying calls and receiving visitors, and cards and charades and dancing, that there is not a moment to reflect or to pine.
We have been no fewer than twelve at dinner every night, and on occasion as many as thirty! The society and to-do suit me only in one respect—they prevent Frederica’s spirits from sinking further. The oppression that marked her last weeks at Churchill Manor has lifted, chiefly through the attentions of Maria Manwaring. Her kindness and solicitude are very much to her credit, and her reward is a companion who is far superior to the Misses Hamilton, who have come to Somerset for a long visit.
At this time of year, Langford is the place to meet young men, and Lady Hamilton is determined that her daughters will not suffer Miss Manwaring’s fate—to be nearly two and twenty and not married. They have thirty thousand apiece, so I think that Lady Hamilton will let them go for as little as two thousand per annum if a bit of property, or the prospect of it, is thrown in. In disposition, the two eldest are conceited and above being pleased, and the youngest is so excessively pleased with everything that she is often restless and always noisy—the elder ones cannot bear exertion and the youngest has not the patience to sit still; their conversation is tiresome, when it is not silly, and it is not only the prejudice of a parent that leads me to think that any gentleman of worth and sense would sooner take Frederica for nothing than any of them with their thirty thousand pounds!
I want for nothing, save, perhaps, some relief from the attentions of Mr. Manwaring. For some weeks, he had been prudent, but now all reserve is gone and he is often unguarded. In the mornings, he can be avoided, as he must take the gentlemen out shooting or go into Taunton on business, but in the evenings, his attentions are so marked that they begin to kindle Eliza’s jealousy. When he addresses me directly, I keep the discourse from becoming a tête-à-tête by inquiring, “Are you of the same opinion as Mr. Manwaring, Lord Whitby?” or “Do you agree with our host that the summer was a very dry one, Mr. Reed?” until one of the Hamilton girls engages his conversation or he falls victim to their mother’s passion for cards.
Tomorrow, we will have another addition to the party—Alicia Johnson comes from London. Mr. Johnson, who generally confines his infirmities to home, had the ill luck to become afflicted while he was away, and will be laid up long enough to allow his wife to slip into Somerset for some diversion. If he were at home, he would likely oppose the visit, as he has not forgiven Eliza Manwaring for marrying against his wishes.
Frederica sends you her very best love and promises to write to you soon. In the meantime, I am commissioned to tell you, however, that the tuberoses at Langford are nothing at all beside those at Ealing Park.
Your affectionate niece,
Susan Vernon
It was not for many days after Mrs. Johnson’s arrival that she and Lady Vernon were able to take a turn around the park without Mrs. Manwaring converting their twosome into a walking party of five or six.
Mrs. Johnson immediately began to apologize for not coming down to Sussex for Sir Frederick’s funeral. “Mr. Johnson insisted that he was laid up with gout,” she declared. “I am persuaded that his gout is brought on or kept off at his pleasure. Three years ago, when I wanted him to try the waters at Bath, nothing would induce him to have a gouty symptom, and yet when the Hamiltons invited me to the Lakes, he was so laid up that I was obliged to remain in London to nurse him. And—tedious man!—he bears it all with such patience that I have not even the common excuse for losing my temper! But, my dear, how pale you look! Why, you have been here six weeks and you have not got back your color. Manwaring tells me that he means to keep you here until they go to town in February.”
“That may be his intention, but I do not know if I can withstand the Langford notion of tranquillity for so long. Frederica and the youngest Miss Hamilton are to be enrolled in school in December, and I have offered to chaperone them to town so that I can have the opportunity to look in on the house on Portland Place, and once there, I may decide to remain.”
“It will be a delightful thing to have you in town so soon, and a good school will throw Miss Vernon in the path of rich young men by way of their sisters, which is Lady Hamilton’s object for Miss Lucy. But if Manwaring will have you back here, I shall always be happy to stand up with Miss Vernon in town and to take her wherever she likes.”
Lady Vernon murmured her thanks, knowing full well that Alicia Johnson was of that class of women who had always cared too much for their own comfort and pleasure to be inconvenienced by little children, but who would be very glad to have one or two fine grown girls to par
ade about London and Bath.
“Miss Vernon has grown into such a beauty—the Hamilton girls are nothing at all beside her. Of course, it is settled that the eldest will marry Reginald deCourcy. Your brother-in-law must have said something of it, I am sure.”
“He has said nothing at all about it.”
“I am very surprised, for it is said that the deCourcys talk of nothing else. They are very determined on both sides that the fortunes ought to be united,” continued Mrs. Johnson, “and I know that Miss Hamilton is willing and Mr. deCourcy has never expressed any objection or shown any inclination toward anyone else.”
“His disinclination toward any other lady does not mean that he is inclined toward his cousin.”
“Very true. It is why Lady Hamilton throws them together at every opportunity. She has encouraged Eliza to invite him here on purpose to hurry matters along. She is very angry that he stays away, and if she is cool toward you, it is because she blames you that he does not come.”
“How can Lady Hamilton think that I decide whether Mr. deCourcy will come and go?” cried Lady Vernon. “I am wholly unacquainted with that young man!”
