Milsom Street being directly along our way, we paid a brief call on the Grahams before moving on. Afterward, Richard remarked, “Jo, I meant to tell you that I saw Mr. Ramsey and his mother yesterday. Being in Milsom Street again has reminded me. My father and I had errands here and we chanced to meet them coming out of Molland’s. I must say that Mrs. Ramsey is quite an imposing woman – a force to be reckoned with, I’ll be bound.”
“Ah! I have not met her myself, but that agrees with Mr. Ramsey’s description. I venture to guess that it must have been an interesting encounter. How did your father and Mrs. Ramsey get on?”
“Hmm, yes. Well, they began awkwardly enough, to be sure – each one sizing up the other, I believe; neither willing to give ground. For a long moment, I thought sure there would be fireworks. Yet incredibly, before the conversation broke up, they seemed to have struck an accord of some sort between them.”
“Perhaps we can put it down to the regard one feels for a kindred spirit,” I suggested with a mischievous glance at Agnes.
Our route took us through the Circus and on to view the magnificent houses of the Royal Crescent, then back toward town via the gravel walk, and south past Queen’s Square and beyond. As we five strolled by Westgate Buildings in the course of our travels, a well-looking young woman walking on the other side of the street attracted our attention. I had never seen her before, but I thought I caught a look of recognition pass across Richard’s face. He tipped his hat to the lady who nodded in return, confirming it. Though I resisted the powerful urge to quiz Richard about it, Tom did the honors for me.
“Who was that fine young woman, Mr. Pierce?”
“Oh, just an old acquaintance from Surrey; nobody of any significance.”
“Not to you, perhaps, but I think I’d quite like to meet her,” rejoined Tom.
“I should be only too happy to introduce you, sir, if the occasion arises.”
Richard and I had saved the walk up to Beechen Cliff for the culmination of the tour. Poetically, and in actual fact, it could be nothing less than the high point of the day. The stately hill encrusted in a glorious tangle of greenery was a sight in itself, surpassed only by the prospect from the top, which overlooked the entire town and surrounding area. Upon gaining the summit, the whole party took some minutes to admire what could be seen from the elevated vantage point, and some minutes more to rest from the exertion of the assent.
Tom would not waste the view by sitting down, however. “What a very fine thing it is for Bath to have a high hill located so commodiously, as if it had been erected here expressly for the purpose of providing visitors the means to properly appreciate the grandeur of the place. Look how the Avon winds round the town, hemming it in on two sides. There is the Abbey, Queen’s Square and, afar off to the left, the Royal Crescent where we walked earlier. The facade fairly glows where the sun strikes it. Remarkable. Indeed, the whole town quite exceeds my expectations. A triumph in classic architectural design flawlessly executed, in my humble opinion. Mr. John Wood and his son have left a great legacy behind them here.”
“Good gracious, Tom!” I said with amusement. “Your enthusiasm astounds me. I have never known you to speak so lyrically on any topic before, let alone the value of fine architecture and a picturesque view. It must be your expensive education finally showing some effect; our father and mother will be so pleased.”
“I cannot make out if that is a compliment or an insult. With you, dear sister, it is often difficult to tell. I think you give far too much credit to Oxford regardless. Perhaps my education allows me to speak with more understanding on such subjects, but I trust no one need teach me to appreciate a thing of beauty, be it a Gothic cathedral, a view from a hilltop, or the face of a pretty woman,” he said, gesturing to the named articles in turn and finishing with a nod to Agnes’s remarkable countenance as a case in point.
Agnes glowed with pleasure.
“If it were admissible to contradict a lady, I would have to side with your brother against you on this occasion, Miss Walker,” said Richard. “Any man with an ounce of sense will recognize true beauty when he sees it,” he added looking at me, not my more-handsome friend, and bringing my hand to his lips.
Arthur, who looked uncomfortable at the direction the conversation had taken, declined to join the other two gentlemen in their ode to woman. He turned instead to more practical matters. “Well then, if the ladies are sufficiently rested, we should start back. We only just have time to get them home by dinner as it is. Come now, Agnes, take my arm. The path is very rough.”
~~*~~
That evening, when we – the same group of five – attended a ball in one of the assembly rooms, we saw the lady from Westgate Buildings again. She spied us also and made her way directly toward Richard.
“It seems as if you will get your wish to meet the ‘fine young woman’ after all, Mr. Walker,” he said. “Miss Fennimore, how do you do? Allow me to present my friends: Miss Walker, Miss Pittman, Mr. Evensong and Mr. Walker. Everybody, this is Miss Fennimore, an old friend of mine from Surrey.”
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, I’m sure,” she simpered. “But, Richard, why so formal? ‘Miss Fennimore’ indeed. La! You know you have called me Margaret forever.”
“Yes, of course. How good of you to remind me, Margaret.”
“Now, that’s better. I hope you and these charming friends of yours,” nodding to the men, “will each spare a dance for me, for I have as yet no other acquaintance in Bath, and I am vastly fond of a ball.”
Tom very willingly petitioned for the honor of the first two dances with Miss Fennimore. Arthur took his turn without complaint. And later, Richard did his duty by her as well. Whilst Richard was thus occupied and Agnes continued distracted by the ever-present Mr. Cox, Arthur asked me to dance.
“Now tell the truth, old friend,” I responded. “Do you feel obliged to stand up with me in Richard’s absence, or do you honestly wish to dance? I seem to remember that you dislike the amusement.”
“Dancing in general, perhaps, but not this opportunity in particular. Nothing should give me more pleasure than to stand up with you, dear girl. I have not had the privilege these many months and may not again… for a long while.”
“Very well, then.” I allowed him to lead me out onto the floor. “But I should more easily believe it a pleasure if you had the face of a happy man instead of the melancholy bearing of one who has just lost his best friend. Are you still brooding over your disagreeable interview with Mr. Pierce?”
“Perhaps I am.”
I could think of nothing helpful to contribute on that topic, so I held my peace several minutes as we danced. It was good to be with Arthur again, to look across at his steady gaze, to feel the warmth of his firm hand through my glove. I realized that, even with all the excitement of the last few months, I had sorely missed his company. Now, who could say where he and Agnes would finally settle, or how seldom I might see them in future?
Arthur broke in upon my thoughts. “Now you are the one who looks as if you had lost your best friend.”
“Do I? I am too transparent, it seems. I’m sorry, Arthur. I have no doubt that you made the correct decision about Mr. Pierce’s offer. But I cannot help thinking how heavenly it would have been to have you and Agnes always living nearby… and how much I shall miss you both after I am married. So it is like losing my best friends after all, you must concede.”
“Yes, I too regret the way things have turned out… more than I can say.”
When our dance concluded, Arthur begged me for a second. “Agnes will not miss me. As you see, she is going to dance with Mr. Cox again. She prefers his company to mine tonight,” he said evenly. “Tell me, is he a man of good fortune?”
“Yes, I believe so. You mustn’t mind him, though; he means nothing to Agnes. I am sure of it. She is only flattered by his preference… and I fear she has not quite forgiven you yet for turning down Mr. Pierce. I daresay she will rally in another day or two.�
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“No doubt. I shall follow your example of forbearance in the meantime. I notice that it bothers you not in the least to see your Mr. Pierce lavishing similar attentions on Miss Fennimore.”
Richard’s whereabouts and behavior had quite escaped my notice whilst I danced with Arthur. Now, however, I saw that he seemed to be talking with Miss Fennimore in an unnecessarily familiar manner, his eyes holding hers with that same intensity that I had come to know so well myself. As I watched, they laughed together conspiratorially, as if they shared some secret joke. Was it my imagination, or did their hands hold longer and their bodies pass nearer each other than the movements of the dance strictly required?
“Never mind, Jo. She is nothing compared to you,” Arthur was saying. “Even a fool should be able to see that,” he added dryly.
16
Happy Birthday
My father and mother hosted a dinner party the following evening in honor of my twenty-first birthday, to which all our friends in Bath were invited. The wedding plans were well in hand, and the arduous work of the complicated marriage settlement had been completed only that morning, lending the occasion additional cause for joy. With good company and reasons to celebrate, it should have been the best of times. Instead, most everybody seemed out of sorts to one degree or another.
The party collected in the drawing room until the last of those expected should arrive. Mr. and Mrs. Graham appeared as jovial as ever. They plunged straight into conversation with my parents, with whom they were by now on the most intimate terms. But Susan, try as she might, could not hide her low spirits, even for my sake. And that which afflicted her necessarily affected Mr. Ramsey as well. I learned the cause of the trouble presently.
“Mrs. Ramsey called at Milsom Street this morning,” Susan explained when I joined them in the alcove by the windows. “At first, I hoped it was a compliment to me, a sign that she accepted my attachment to her son. It soon became apparent that it was quite the reverse. She said she considered it her duty to apprise me of certain facts: first, that her son is totally dependent on her good graces for his financial future; second, that she would not scruple to use her influence, up to and including the threat of disinheritance, to ensure that he makes a suitable choice of wife; and finally, that she does not have me down on her list of eligible candidates for the office.”
“Oh, Susan, she didn’t!” I groaned.
“She did.”
“Yes, I am ashamed to own that my mother is quite capable of such a speech,” Mr. Ramsey confirmed, “of making such a threat and probably of carrying it out as well. Although I have always believed myself her favorite, she will be at no great pains to secure an alternate should I invoke her displeasure. I have three younger brothers, Miss Walker, any of whom would be ready to take my place and happy to receive my inheritance. My father, God rest his soul, would have been more sympathetic to my situation, I daresay. A person’s wealth and status were of little consequence to him; he was a friend to one and all. I can only fault him for one thing, and that is leaving Mama in control of the purse strings.” He sighed.
“So, you see the desperation of our circumstances. We are entirely at her mercy.”
“Perhaps you will be able to win her over in time,” I suggested.
“God grant it, but I doubt it,” said Mr. Ramsey.
“Time is no remedy for what she finds objectionable in me. It cannot sufficiently aggrandize my family connections or double my small fortune,” Susan concluded sadly.
My birthday party was off to an inauspicious beginning.
Dinner awaited the arrival of Richard and Mr. Pierce. Whereas the rest of the company idled away the intervening minutes in artless conversation, Agnes applied them to a more specific purpose. She had not yet exhausted her displeasure with Arthur, and she lacked the self-command which might have made the prudent concealment of her feelings possible. Consequently, she once again turned to Mr. Cox as the most convenient means for demonstrating her resentment to Mr. Evensong. By conspicuous attention to one and complete neglect of the other, she effectively drove home her point. Although I had long been in the habit of excusing my friend’s whims of behavior as harmless folly, even part of her charm, in this case my sympathies were entirely on Arthur’s side.
When the Messrs. Pierce, father and son, arrived nearly half an hour late, Arthur’s fortunes suffered another blow. Although reasonably civil to everybody else, Mr. Pierce addressed him with a distaste bordering on contempt. Even Richard, who could generally be trusted to provide a joke or a droll story to support the morale of his companions, was of no assistance. As soon as he entered the room, I apprehended that his customary conviviality had slipped a notch. Irritable he arrived, and irritable he remained.
“Is everything all right, Richard?” I asked at my earliest opportunity.
“Yes, quite all right,” he said with more annoyance than conviction in his tone. “But, I detest being late! It renders it quite impossible for one to start the evening off well. Do not you agree? Unfortunately, I am at my father’s disposal, and he would… Well, never mind. I just hope we have not spoilt your birthday, Jo.”
“If your being late was the only threat to the success of the evening, I should think we could withstand it well enough. But I have observed a worrying trend.”
Although the party carried on, supported by the good spirits and determination of the livelier members of the group, the quality of the celebration suffered from these detractions. The event was meant for my gratification, but I could not be happy with my friends in such distress. Richard’s uncharacteristic peevishness disturbed me more than anything else for reasons that I could not well define.
Dinner afforded a temporary reprieve from one source of aggravation. I had foreseen the problem of including Mr. Cox in this little gathering. However, he had by his frequent visits so insinuated himself into our society by this time that Mama considered it a serious breach of etiquette to exclude him. I could give her no just cause for doing so without casting aspersions on my friend as well. So invited he was, but placed as far from Miss Pittman at table as possible, thanks to my interference. This put it completely out of Agnes’s power to talk to, make eyes at, or court Mr. Cox’s attentions in any way during the whole course of the meal.
Mama had ordered a very good dinner with my preferences in mind. We began with a delicate soup and finished with cherry-water ice, with everything in between being equally agreeable to the palate. To accompany these dishes, hearty servings of discourse on a variety of topics were brought forward.
Mrs. Graham shared the contents of a letter she had lately received from Kent, in which the governess apprised her of the excellent progress toward proficiency in music, drawing, and French that her younger daughters had made during their parents’ absence.
She boomed out proudly in conclusion, “There are few young ladies in all the county who can equal our girls for grace and accomplishment, though I do say it myself. Did you know, Mr. Ramsey, that Susan has a very fine singing voice? Madeline’s performance at the piano-forte grows more exquisite every day. And our little Laura is quite talented as well, I am sure. She is only just sixteen but already shows remarkable ability. Why, she painted the sweetest little table for us last spring, all covered with flowers – dog roses and honeysuckle, I think she said they were. I couldn’t quite make it out myself; I have no eye for art. But her drawing master raved about it excessively, and everybody who sees it remarks its beauty.”
Mrs. Graham then called upon her husband to verify all her assertions about their daughters – which he did with some diffidence – leaving the rest of the company little alternative. No evidence to the contrary, we had to allow that the Miss Grahams were the finest girls in the world. Mr. Ramsey had no cause to doubt it; Susan, with her spirits so depressed, had not the strength to oppose; and my mother diplomatically suppressed any impulse she may have felt to put her own daughter forward as being entitled to a share of the honors. Mama talked about he
r sons instead, an altogether safer choice. Mrs. Graham could not possibly take offence at this since she had no sons of her own to suffer by the comparison.
“Tom is doing very well at Oxford this year. Are you not, my dear? In fact, I shouldn’t be a bit surprised if you take a ‘first’ in your exams.”
Tom laughed heartily. “Well, I shall be excessively surprised if such an improbable thing should occur.”
“I am sure you are too modest,” said Mr. Graham.
“Not at all, on my honor. Now, if you want a true scholar, my friend Arthur, here, is your man.”
I instinctively glanced at Mr. Pierce to see how he bore hearing Mr. Evensong praised. With knife and fork firmly gripped, he directed his concentrated attention – and any feelings of hostility – against the defenseless roasted guinea fowl on his plate.
Mama gave Arthur his due, then turned the conversation to her other son. “Our oldest boy, Frederick, has already finished at Oxford, you understand. He is now at Millwalk, his estate in Surrey, and getting on splendidly. Why, we never hear from him but what he tells us of some clever plan he has for improvements. I am sure he will make a great success of the place. Mr. Pierce, how near is Millwalk to your estate? Wildewood is it called?”
“Yes, madam. I think it might be as much as twenty miles from one to the other.”
For Myself Alone: A Jane Austen Inspired Novel Page 10
