by Jane Ashford
He suffered Elisabeth’s examination with no change of expression. Indeed, it seemed to her that he allowed her time to weigh him before speaking. Then he said, “How do you do. I’ve just been telling your cousin that William and I were at Oxford together and did later join the same regiment. I left the army soon after, however, to pursue my fortunes abroad, and was thus luckier than he.”
“Indeed?” replied Elisabeth. “I’m sorry to say I never met my cousin William.”
Lavinia nodded. “Yes. It is very sad. William was younger than I, of course, and he was still at school when I made my few visits to Elisabeth’s family. Then her mother died and William went into the army, so there was no further opportunity. I told him of you, Elisabeth, several times. But you know what boys are, I daresay he wouldn’t have reminisced. And then, well…well, I simply lost touch. I should not have done so.”
Smiling slightly, Elisabeth looked up and met a twinkle in the eyes of Mr. Jarrett. In spite of their paleness, she noticed, they compelled one’s attention.
“I should have come more often,” continued Lavinia. “I knew it even then. But Father began to be ill, you know, and there was no one else to look after him. Nursing an invalid takes so much of one’s time. But I blame myself still. I could have visited you, and I should have.”
With just a shade of difficulty, Elisabeth disengaged her gaze from Mr. Jarrett’s. “Well, it wasn’t entirely your fault, Cousin Lavinia,” she said. “My father hardly encouraged visitors after my mother’s death.”
“Yes, dear, I know,” responded Lavinia, “but that doesn’t really excuse me.”
Elisabeth thought it best to abandon this subject. “You’ve been living abroad, Mr. Jarrett?” she asked, looking briefly into his face once again, then turning her eyes to the floor.
“Yes, chiefly in the West Indies, though I also spent some months in New Orleans.”
“The West Indies,” echoed Elisabeth. “I’ve heard that it is very beautiful there.”
He shrugged. “There is beauty, right enough,” he replied, in a curious, almost grim tone. “But there is also much that is not beautiful. It’s an uncivilized part of the world, Miss Elham, whatever the planters may pretend.”
He said this with no hint of boastfulness. Elisabeth was frankly intrigued. “And did you, that is, were you a planter yourself?” she asked.
“I?” He smiled at her, his teeth very white against his sunburned skin. “Oh, yes, I tried my hand at raising sugar cane. I tried many professions.”
“Sugar cane?” put in Lavinia eagerly. “I have read of it. It seems quite mysterious to me. I can never get, you see, how it looks. It is the silliest thing, but I always visualize fields full of peppermint candy sticks.” Her companions laughed. “So foolish of me,” she murmured.
“I fear the reality is not nearly so romantic,” Jarrett told her. “The plants are tall and thin indeed, but they are green and not particularly appealing. They’re chiefly good for making rum.”
“Oh, rum,” answered Lavinia wisely, “such a nasty drink, I believe.”
Elisabeth and Jarrett shared a smile. “Have you returned to England recently?” she asked him.
He nodded. “A matter of weeks. I feel very much a stranger here yet.”
“It must be very different.” Elisabeth’s eyes held a faraway look. She was imagining to herself the difference.
“Yes,” he said rather curtly, “it is.”
His stern expression quickened Elisabeth’s interest and made her wish to explore this subject, but Lavinia had other ideas. “Mr. Jarrett, you simply must tell me all you know of my brother,” she said. “I saw so little of him after he left home, and I’m interested in all the details, you know.”
Mr. Jarrett bowed. “I should be delighted. But unfortunately, I’m forced to leave rather early this evening, as I’m engaged to a party of friends. Perhaps you will allow me to call one day this week?” His eyes turned toward Elisabeth as he said this.
“Oh, certainly,” fluttered Lavinia. “No question. A friend of William’s. We shall have so much to discuss.”
Mr. Jarrett seemed not quite satisfied. “If Miss Elham agrees,” he put in smoothly.
Elisabeth inclined her head.
“Thank you,” he continued. “I shall look forward to it. And now I must take my leave.” He bowed formally.
They said goodbye, and Mr. Jarrett turned and walked away. Elisabeth noticed that he didn’t stop to bid his host and hostess good night, even though the viscountess was walking toward them, but went directly out of the drawing room. She shrugged, but later she mentioned him to Lady Larenby.
“Jarrett,” repeated the other, frowning and putting her finger to her lips. “I can’t recall…wait, I believe Maria Coatsworth mentioned his name to me. She’s old Lady Brandon’s companion, you know. Such a poor cowed creature; I always feel so sorry for her. She asked if she might invite an acquaintance of hers; I’m sure the name is the same. She said he was recently back from the tropics and knew no one in London. And so he has turned out to be a friend of your family as well?” She looked about the room.
“He has gone,” said Elisabeth. “He said he had another appointment.”
The viscountess smiled. “Well, this is hardly likely to endear him to me. A hostess never appreciates a guest who rushes off to another party. But how strange that I didn’t meet him at all. I’ll make a point of doing so another time, so that I may scold him.”
“Yes,” said Elisabeth. “I thought it strange that he did not bid you good night.”
“Well, perhaps he’s shy,” suggested Lady Larenby. “He knew no one here. I’m sure he felt somewhat uncomfortable.”
Just then a group of guests came up to say good night to their hostess, and Elisabeth excused herself. She went to gather her party, for it was getting late. Lavinia was agreeable, but Elisabeth had some trouble pulling Belinda and Tony away from their new friends. They insisted that it was terribly early to leave, but when Elisabeth pointed out that more than half the guests had done so, they reluctantly consented.
When Elisabeth reached her bedroom later that night, she sat down in the armchair wearily. She had never realized how very exhausting a life of leisure could be. She’d rarely been so tired when she was earning her own living.
Nine
Invitations did begin to come in after their introduction at Lady Larenby’s house, and soon Elisabeth felt as if she saw her younger cousins only when they all went out together for the evening. Tony was kept constantly busy by his new friends, and he was seldom to be found about the house. Belinda’s activities were less mysterious, but she too was often occupied. Even Cousin Lavinia seemed to have more to do than Elisabeth; she was always hurrying off on one errand or another.
Thus, when Mr. Jarrett called the week after the Wincannons’ evening party, Elisabeth was the only member of the family in the drawing room to receive him. She was sitting in an armchair by the window, a volume of Scott open before her, when Ames ushered him in. “How do you do,” she said. “How sorry Cousin Lavinia will be to find that she’s missed you.”
“She is out?” asked Mr. Jarrett.
“Yes. She’s gone in search of rose pink embroidery cotton, but she may return at any moment. Sit down, won’t you?”
When they were seated opposite one another in front of the fireplace, Mr. Jarrett said, “I must apologize for my departure after we were introduced last Friday.”
“You needn’t tell me,” replied Elisabeth playfully. “But Lady Larenby was quite out of charity with you. She plans to scold you roundly when she meets you at last.” He’d begun to look a little alarmed, and she smiled. “No need to worry,” she added. “She’s very charming. You simply wounded the hostess in her by hurrying off to another engagement.”
Mr. Jarrett’s frown didn’t lift. “I suppose I have been rag-mannered again. Onl
y now have I realized that I never introduced myself to her or her husband.” He ran a hand through his sandy hair and sighed. “Having been out of England for nearly twenty years, I’m unused to polite society. Will Lady Larenby forgive me, do you think?”
“Oh, of course,” answered Elisabeth. “I was only teasing you a little.” He looked up, and once again, the power of his gaze surprised her. What was it about the man, she wondered, that held one’s attention so. She blinked. “Tell me about the West Indies, Mr. Jarrett,” she said. “I’ve always longed to see such places, but I’ve never had the opportunity to travel. Where did you live?”
He made a deprecating gesture. “I was settled in Martinique for a while, then moved to Jamaica. There is little to tell, I fear.”
Elisabeth smiled. “I cannot believe it. Even the names are beautiful. Martinique. Now I grew up near a village called Sterington-on-Marsh. You cannot tell me that such vast differences in the names of places do not spring from widely divergent ways of living.”
Jarrett returned her smile. “I would never say that, no.”
“Well, then. There must be a great deal to tell of a place called Martinique. It is a French name, is it not?”
He nodded. “The island is French, and most of the inhabitants, except the blacks, of course.”
Elisabeth’s eyes widened a bit. “I…I hadn’t thought. Were there, do you mean, slaves?”
The lines around Jarrett’s mouth deepened. “Yes, Miss Elham, I do. So you see, I was right to say that everything is not beautiful in the Indies.”
“Yes.” Elisabeth stared across the room for a moment, then said slowly, “I knew, of course, that such practices were common elsewhere. But somehow, my knowledge was…was of an abstract nature. How can they let it go on?”
Mr. Jarrett seemed impatient. “If you travel in Russia, Miss Elham, you will see slaves. Indeed, if you were to look into some of the manufacturing plants in this country, or better yet into some of the slums not more than a mile from this house, you would see them also, though they don’t bear the name. Men in the Indies are no better or worse than their counterparts elsewhere. It is part of human nature to enslave.”
This harsh indictment left Elisabeth speechless for a moment. Finally, she said, “You’re very cynical, Mr. Jarrett. For my part, I prefer to believe that mankind is more compassionate.”
Mr. Jarrett smiled at her. “And I hope you will never have reason to think otherwise,” he said. “I must again beg your pardon. You can see, no doubt, how unhappy I was in the Indies. I didn’t like it, and I was not a success there. As soon as I was able, I returned. It is hot and provincial, and the work is bitterly hard, even if one is not a slave. As I must have by now made you aware, there is no society to speak of; thus, I have lost whatever manners I once possessed. I think you would find traveling much less exciting than you seem to imagine. Let us talk of something else.”
Elisabeth was taken aback by this abrupt command, but she was less offended than interested. This man was an original. “Very well,” she answered. “But I must say, you’re a great disappointment to me. I understood that travelers were uniformly eager to tell about the countries they visited. You’ve quite discredited that impression.” She saw that he was frowning and hurried on. “Tell me instead about my cousin William, then. We’re a very odd family, you know. We’ve all kept very much to ourselves, so that I’m ridiculously ignorant about my relations. Was cousin William like his sister?”
Mr. Jarrett smiled. “Not very like. There was some physical resemblance, I believe, though I never met Miss Ottley as a girl. William was extremely level-headed and sensible, and very intelligent. He was one of the finest officers in our regiment.”
“Ah. It’s doubly sad, then, that he was killed.”
Mr. Jarrett nodded soberly. “When I got the news in Martinique, I was stunned. He was one of the best friends I ever had, indeed, one of the only friends I had left in England,” he added more quietly.
“Lavinia told me he died very bravely,” put in Elisabeth sympathetically.
“Yes. He led his men in a suicidal charge which turned the tide of battle in his area, though it did not, of course, turn defeat to victory. That has never reconciled me to his death, however. I’ve never understood why anyone imagined that it would do so.” He looked up and smiled. “But he was a good man and a jolly one; you may be proud to claim him as part of your family.”
“Indeed, I am,” answered Elisabeth. A silence fell, as she cast about in her mind for a subject that would cause this oddly interesting man to reveal more of himself. But he spoke first.
“You are also new to London, I understand?” he said. “Your cousin mentioned that you’ve recently taken up residence in town?”
Elisabeth nodded. “During the past few months.”
“Your cousin was full of your kindness to her,” he replied. He looked full into her eyes and smiled. The whiteness of his teeth and their evenness was again striking against his tanned skin.
Elisabeth looked down. “I’ve been very fortunate,” she told him. “It’s easy to be kind in such circumstances, is it not?” She felt a little flustered by his bluntness of speech and steady gaze.
“It is,” he agreed. “That is a truth not many discover. I see you are an intelligent woman, Miss Elham.”
Elisabeth smiled ironically. “Why, thank you, sir.”
He returned her smile, a hint of self-mockery dancing in his eyes. “And a reader.” He picked up the volume of Scott she’d laid aside. “Ah, this is the fellow who’s all the rage nowadays. I haven’t yet tried him. Shall I?”
“Certainly,” answered Elisabeth. “You won’t care for Scott, but he’ll provide you with subject matter for drawing room conversation.” Her eyes twinkled.
He gave a crack of laughter. “Something I want badly, I suppose you mean.” He leafed through the book. “But why do you say I shan’t like it?”
“Oh, it is very romantic. Not at all your sort of thing.”
He raised his eyebrows, his smile widening. “You think not?”
“Oh, no. A man who can talk as you do of the Indies, and who won’t even relate his adventures there, can have no interest in Scott’s imaginary pirates and brigands. You’ll find it stupid and silly, I predict.”
Mr. Jarrett laughed again as he put the book back on the table. “You are severe. I see that I must guard myself. I’m not to be allowed any airs, it seems.”
“Was it only airs?” asked Elisabeth, cocking her head at him. “How disappointing.”
Jarrett threw up a hand. “Peace, Miss Elham. I cry mercy. You must not make a game of a poor provincial, home at last.”
Elisabeth sobered immediately. “Indeed, I didn’t mean to do so. I hope I haven’t offended you.”
“Of course not. I don’t think you could.”
Before Elisabeth could reply to a remark she took to be a compliment, Lavinia came into the drawing room, all aflutter to find Mr. Jarrett there. The conversation turned back to her brother once more, and she told a number of anecdotes involving William, turning to their visitor for corroboration in each case. He obligingly gave it, but after a few minutes, he rose to take his leave. In spite of Lavinia’s protests, he insisted on going.
“Well, if that is not exceedingly fractious,” continued Lavinia when they were alone once more. “If I had but known, I certainly wouldn’t have gone out this morning. I might have picked up the things I needed another time, you know; and in any case I couldn’t match my yarn. Can you credit it, Elisabeth? They’ve discontinued making the shade I need. How vexatious that Mr. Jarrett couldn’t stay for luncheon. It is so seldom that one meets anyone acquainted with the family. Of course, Uncle Elham was a sort of recluse, and so was your own father, Elisabeth. Not of course, that he was at all like your uncle. Tony, now, has turned out quite differently, fortunately.”
Her
flow of talk continued, but Elisabeth answered somewhat absently. She couldn’t put their oddly arresting caller out of her mind.
* * *
The next event of importance on their schedule was the visit to Vauxhall Gardens in the party of the Duke of Sherbourne. All of them were to attend, and Belinda was wildly excited. When their host’s carriage came to fetch them, it was seen to contain his mother also, and sitting across, next to Lord James Darnell, was a younger woman. The duchess introduced her as Jane Taunton, a young friend. As Elisabeth sat down in the chaise, she said, “I’ve brought Jane along to meet you, Elisabeth. You’ll be great friends, I’ll be bound.” The two women looked at each other. Jane appeared a little older than Elisabeth; she wasn’t at all pretty, being over tall and very thin with pale hair, freckled skin, and washed-out brown eyes. Her expression was not encouraging.
The duchess laughed. “Yes, I daresay you will eye one another like strange cats for quite a while. And now you’re angry because I’ve forced you upon one another. At any rate, Jane is. But I know what I’m about.” She leaned back in the corner of the carriage, chuckling.
By this time, Belinda had settled herself, and they started out. There was little conversation as they drove, and soon the duke was escorting the ladies to the box he’d reserved for the evening and seating them at the table. Elisabeth was placed at the duke’s right hand next to Lord Darnell. Belinda was across from her, on the duke’s other side, then Tony, Lavinia, and the duchess at the bottom of the board. Jane Taunton was on the other side of Lord Darnell.
It immediately became apparent that the duke meant to devote his attention to Belinda. Tony began to look bored almost as soon as he sat down; Elisabeth hoped, a bit ruefully, that he would last the evening. Lavinia and the duchess became engrossed in a discussion of the latest on dits, occasionally trying to pull Jane into it, so Elisabeth perforce turned to Lord Darnell.
