Lady Vernon and Her Daughter: A Novel of Jane Austen's Lady Susan

by Jane Rubino

  Charles took leave of his father-in-law with as much poise as he could summon. He was relieved that the subject of how much of his brother’s legacy was left at his disposal had been avoided, and decided that a respite from his clubs and associates (until the next quarter came due and Catherine was persuaded to cajole something from her father) would not be a great inconvenience.

  chapter fifty-seven

  Sir Reginald did not wait until he was installed at Berkeley Square to call upon Miss Manwaring’s brother. Manwaring received him with informality and giddy spirits, which caused Sir Reginald to wonder that anyone could think that Lady Vernon had invited the attentions of such a frivolous creature. Manwaring’s congratulations were directed toward himself as often as toward the engaged couple. He expressed his relief that Lewis deCourcy would take Maria for nothing—“for our father provided her with little, and I am sure that it was costly enough for me to keep a roof over her head and buy her three or four new gowns every winter.” In working his way around the subject of money (in order that his sister’s future relations clearly understood how little he could do for her), Manwaring lapsed into several anecdotes of those speculations that accounted for his having nothing at all to give Maria. Sir Frederick Vernon was a minor player in one of his tales, and Sir Reginald asked just enough, and deduced just enough, to think that rather than being too harsh with his son-in-law, he had been too liberal.

  He followed this visit with a call upon Miss Manwaring. The lady had gone out in the company of Mrs. Johnson, and Sir Reginald meant only to leave his card, but when Mr. Johnson understood who the caller was, he came out from his library and greeted the gentleman. The reticence of one and the formality of the other were rapidly overcome—Mr. Johnson’s high opinion of Miss Vernon and Reginald deCourcy ensured the old gentleman’s regard and drew them into a conversation that centered around their mutual acquaintance and ended with an engagement to dine the following week.

  Not even the satisfaction of accompanying Miss Manwaring and Eliza on a round of shopping and calls could console Alicia Johnson for not being at home to receive Sir Reginald deCourcy. She coaxed from her husband as much as she could, which involved too much conversation for him yet too little to satisfy her.

  Mrs. Johnson to Lady Vernon

  Edward Street, London

  My dear friend,

  I fully meant to call yesterday, but it was absolutely necessary to take Maria to the mantua maker, where she was fit for her gown, and today we were obliged to go around with Eliza, and then we were all to drink tea with Mrs. Carr. And you cannot think—it is too provoking! Sir Reginald deCourcy called while we were out! He did not merely leave his card but was a half hour talking to Mr. Johnson—Mr. Johnson was not at all displeased by having been taken away from his books. Indeed, he was so very far from being displeased that he invited Sir Reginald to dine with us next week! We will have his brother and son as well, and I hope that when the date is fixed, you will consent to make up the party. Indeed, I thought to call upon you today, but we had not been home a half hour when Manwaring called. Mr. Johnson will not receive him, of course, but concedes that he must be admitted now and again until Maria marries, and that will be so soon that she will be married from Edward Street.

  I assure you, I did not expect anything more from Manwaring than congratulating himself upon Maria’s engagement and talk of you—but upon the latter subject, he was very strange! He told us that Sir Reginald deCourcy had waited upon him, and that something was dropped in the conversation of your having nothing at all—not so much as a penny! Manwaring said that Sir Reginald led him to believe that your husband left all of his money to Charles Vernon!

  Are you not diverted? The old gentleman is very sly, for this little falsehood must be calculated to drive off his son’s rival. You will certainly not be troubled anymore with Manwaring’s attentions if he thinks you have nothing! I congratulate you, my dear friend, for it seems that Sir Reginald has capitulated entirely! Manwaring says that he is to take the Beresfords’ house for two months, and so I must conclude that you will be a married woman before the season is out.

  As you cannot mean to marry before Miss Vernon, I expect that she has overcome her aversion to Sir James—their wedding must be the grandest of the three, but I will be as happy to attend your nuptials quite as well as Maria’s.

  Your devoted friend,

  Alicia Johnson

  chapter fifty-eight

  The day of Sir James’s ball arrived, and it was decided that Miss Manwaring would come to Portland Place to dine and spend the night. They barely tasted the meal and excused themselves from the table as soon as they could to hurry to Miss Vernon’s apartments. Their gowns were donned, their hair was arranged, their gloves and fans and shawls gathered up, and then they went to show themselves to Lady Martin, who was to accompany them, and to Lady Vernon, who was to remain at home.

  Lady Martin entertained the young ladies with tales of the many balls she had attended as a girl: “The table for dinner was three hundred feet long with a centerpiece of white orchids and green fern all entwined with a riband of crimson satin from one end of the table to the other—and the entire thing was not fabric and flowers at all, but fashioned out of spun sugar!”—“Five or six full chandeliers, and each one was said to cost eight thousand pounds!”—“White velvet from head to toe—even to her slippers! And she came out of the evening with scarcely a spot upon it, for she danced only one dance and would eat and drink nothing at all.”

  The effect upon the young ladies was to amaze Maria Manwaring, who began to think that all the time she had been out had been squandered attending very inferior balls, and to frighten Frederica, who had never been to a ball in all her life.

  When their carriage turned along Cavendish Square, a sensation of awe overwhelmed any remaining feelings of delightful anticipation. The carriage was forced to settle into a queue of three dozen vehicles.

  “Good heavens!” cried Lady Martin. “He has invited all of London! Look how Lady Millbanke hurries her girls down from the carriage, as she is eager that one of them will get Sir James for the first dance. I will not have us scramble down the street in such a common fashion!”

  The progression of the carriage to the door took a full half hour, and when their destination was at last in view, they were very happy to see Mr. Lewis deCourcy step ahead of the footmen to hand the ladies down, claiming Miss Manwaring with that particular confidence of a successful lover.

  Frederica began to feel the effect of her appearance in the whispers and glances that attended her party as they ascended the stairs. In town, private balls varied from one another only in the setting, but the company was very much the same—anybody new was an object of great curiosity, and Frederica had the advantage of her adventure at Miss Summers’s, her connection with the Martins, and her elegance of dress to provoke audible murmurs of “She is every bit the beauty that her mother is!” and “Her gown cannot have cost her less than a hundred guineas!”

  The room they entered was splendidly appointed and ablaze with light; the effect upon Frederica was quite overpowering and she would have turned away into one of the quieter passages when her cousin approached and took her hand. “And where is your mother? I know that she cannot be dancing, but it would have been quite allowable for her to come as your chaperone.”

  “My mother was certain that my aunt would do as well and that her presence would not be missed.”

  “I can agree with the first sentiment, but I protest the second. But, come, you must attend to your office—as the guest of honor, you must receive with me.”

  “Oh, no—you must take my Aunt Martin!” cried Frederica in horror.

  “Nonsense!” declared Lady Martin, who had come up behind them. “I see a fine chair in the corner, if Lady Millbanke does not claim it, where I can watch the dancing. You have said nothing of the girls’ dress, James, and they both took most particular care. I must have some compliments to bring back with me to
Portland Place.”

  “I cannot hope to be more eloquent than their own mirrors, Mother. Miss Manwaring has a very particular bloom that must be attributed to more than the becoming shade of her gown. I cannot hope to interest you in any of the first dances, Miss Manwaring, as there is one who has the greater claim, but I would be very honored if you would oblige me later in the evening.”

  The lady gave him a very pretty smile.

  He then attended his cousin to her post, where she was obliged to curtsy and shake hands with a great many people and think of some answer to their pleasantries that at least gave the impression of ease and interest. There was only a moment of coolness when Lady Hamilton appeared with her eldest daughters. The Hamiltons could not bring themselves to decline an invitation to so superior a gathering, and yet they were deeply humiliated to see Frederica at her cousin’s side and to think of her making such a fine match, when her mother had stolen Reginald from Lavinia.

  When the company was well assembled, Frederica had hoped to be released from her cousin’s side and go to her aunt, where she might sit and observe in silence. Her knowledge of how everything was to proceed had come only from conversation and books, and she was discomfited, therefore, to learn that she was to open the ball with her cousin. The artlessness that had preserved her from any fear of not having a partner was unequal to this discovery. “Oh, but, cousin—surely it cannot be my place! There are so many young ladies who are higher—who have a right to expect the distinction!”

  “Yes, there are too many of them who expect it, but none who deserves it more,” he said as he conducted her to the top of the room. “Have no fear, cousin, I will claim only the two first—it was quite settled between young deCourcy and myself that I should have you open the dance and then he may have as much of your company as he likes.”

  Frederica replied with a blush and a toss of her head, and began the dance with more elegance and composure than she was feeling. It was her nature to learn everything thoroughly, and when impressed with the fact that young ladies must dance, she had applied herself to the process with as much dedication as to science, and with as much success. The attention of everyone was engaged by their host and his partner as they went down the dance; they saw nothing that suggested an aversion to her cousin on Miss Vernon’s part and yet nothing that indicated anything like infatuation on his. The rumors of their engagement had everyone on his side—he was handsome, amiable, and rich, and Miss Vernon was a very great fool if she did not like him; yet that had been resolved before she was seen very much at all. Indeed, she was everything that was lovely and elegant, and many of the young men who had precipitately engaged other partners for every dance began to regret their haste, while those who had saved a dance or two readied themselves to petition her in the course of the evening.

  Sir James would have escorted her to his mother, but Lucy Smith caught Frederica’s hand as soon as she had finished dancing and whisked her to the side of the room. “How exquisite your gown is! I have such a good bit of gossip! You will die of laughter when I tell you! They are all so angry that Lavinia could not sit still to have her hair dressed! Only look how it has frizzed all over! My uncle has written to my mother and told her that Reginald does not mean to marry Livvy! Only think of all the gentlemen she took no notice of because she was secure of him! My uncle’s letter was so solemn—‘We erred, my dear sister, in substituting our own wishes for theirs, and supposing that filial obligation must include a surrender of all inclination. Reginald’s heart, I believe, has been fixed elsewhere’!” Here, Lucy broke into a fit of giggles. “Ah, you look so conscious! And to have Sir Reginald call upon your mother so immediately upon coming to town—so, is it all settled between them?”

  The color rushed into Frederica’s cheeks. The journey from Kent to London had increased her and Reginald’s admiration of each other—Reginald was captivated by her thoughtful conversation and her beauty, and she was very pleased with his opinions and manners. The engagement of Maria and Lewis deCourcy, moreover, had put them both in a frame of mind to think and talk of marriage, and the length of the journey was just enough for them to understand that their views on the subject were very much the same.

  Still, Lucy spoke as though Reginald or his father had already addressed Lady Vernon and Frederica was undecided whether to be pleased at Lucy’s conviction that Reginald had declared himself or to be offended that he had not declared himself to her before speaking to her mother.

  “Ah, here comes my dear Smith again,” declared Lucy, “plaguing me to dance—to have him importune me so when he sought my hand was well and good, but a husband does not need to court his wife.”

  Mr. Smith claimed her, and Frederica began to make her way around the room toward Lady Martin, when a group of people standing together to comment upon the dancing and the company barred her path, and she happened to catch some of their conversation. “Lady Vernon has quite captivated young deCourcy, I understand, and Sir Reginald has come to London on purpose to give them his blessing. They must wait until Miss Vernon weds Sir James, of course—it would not be suitable for the mother to marry before the daughter.”

  Can that have been Lucy’s meaning? Frederica wondered. She did not know whether to laugh or to cry—she had come to be inured to the belief that she was to marry Sir James and was content that such a rumor must die out in time—but to think that Reginald was to wed her mother!

  She went and sat down beside her aunt.

  “Why, what is the matter, child? You are quite pale. One dance cannot have done you in, for here comes young deCourcy to claim you.”

  “Oh, Aunt, I cannot—do make some excuse! What significance will everyone put upon our dancing together?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Reginald came up to the ladies and bowed, and after exchanging a few words with Lady Martin, he petitioned Frederica for the next set.

  Frederica could not refuse. She danced the first dance with more diligence than feeling, and as the second was to begin, Reginald looked at her closely and said in a low voice, “I think that you would rather sit down—may we not go up to the conservatory? It will be cooler there.”

  Frederica took his arm and they went up to the conservatory, which was arranged with an elegance and discrimination that would have surprised those who believed Sir James to be thoughtless and shallow.

  “These occasions so often take on the importance of a debut—a newly engaged couple or a lady’s being out will always make someone or other the object of attention. Miss Manwaring bears the discomfort of being stared at very well, and as my uncle sees no one save for her, he is equally free of distress. You feel for them more than they feel for themselves, I think.”

  “I feel nothing but joy for them, I assure you,” replied Frederica. “But my weeks at Parklands had put everything unpleasant very far from my thoughts, and I had forgotten how many had convinced themselves that I was to marry my cousin.”

  “It cannot be disconcerting to be admired by Sir James—he cannot distress you. Is it, then, the notion of marrying anybody that you find to be unpleasant?”

  “Oh, no!” she replied with a blush. “I have known more happy marriages than unhappy ones. It is not the prospect of marriage but the rumors that distress me—not of a union between Sir James and myself, but between my mother and—and you.”

  She observed his reaction to her words carefully. If his response to the rumor of a marriage to her mother was either laughter or indignation, she was convinced that she could not like him.

  He did not laugh, however, nor did he recoil. He smiled gravely and said, “Such rumors began when I arrived at Churchill Manor, and your mother was good enough not to ridicule the notion. She, very sensibly, accounted for the gossip by saying that when a single gentleman and lady are under one roof, everybody will want to have them married. I do not deny that I admire Lady Vernon. Her superior company helped my leisure hours at Churchill Manor pass very pleasantly, and after your arrival we deve
loped a greater rapport, as we had an interest in common.”

  Her attentive expression and sweet smile gave him all of the encouragement he needed to continue. “Miss Vernon, I am confident in my own sentiments—my gratitude for the very material improvement in my father, which I must attribute entirely to you, would itself be a sensible foundation for affection—and I know you to be a young lady who ranks sense very highly. But I have other grounds for regard—I assure you I have a dozen speeches ready in praise of your kindness, your accomplishments, and your excellent understanding, if you will hear them.”

  Frederica had not the advantage of romantic novels, which would have taught her how to simper and waver and hold him in suspense. “Indeed, I need not hear them,” she replied. “For if you are too excessive in your commendation, it may stir up my vanity, and if you are too moderate, it will injure my pride.”

  “Even the most extravagant praise of you must fall short of the truth,” he replied. “And any expression of my own admiration and love, however eloquent, will be less than you deserve.” He then proceeded to declare himself in as warm and rational a manner as a young lady of scientific disposition could wish, and asked for her hand in marriage.

  Frederica hesitated, not from any reluctance to accept the offer but from an understanding of the enormity of the honor—but sense overcame her reticence and, in language that gave him no doubt of her affection, she accepted him.

  “We will now have the happy task of undeceiving everyone who had us marry elsewhere.” He smiled. “But I think there will be at least as many who are happy for us as those who are disappointed.”

  Frederica, imagining that he might immediately go down and proclaim his successful love to all the company, reminded him of their obligation to seek their parents’ consent before a more general announcement was made. “I would not have anyone happy before Mother and Sir Reginald,” she declared.