Miss Price's Decision

by Eliza Shearer

  “I am glad to hear you enjoyed them.”

  “And have you followed my advice? Have you been true to your truth?” I asked, playfully.

  The minute I uttered those words, I wanted to take them back, for his brow furrowed, his jaw clenched and his friendly manner became earnest and grave. It took him a few moments to respond.

  “I have pondered your words more than you can possibly imagine. They have helped me find the courage to pursue what I once thought a lost cause and now appears to be within the realm of possibility. Should I fail in my endeavour, my consolation must be the absence of self-reproach. In any case, I can assure you that my newfound determination on this particular matter owes much to your advice.”

  His words were so solemn, so far from our previous small talk, that I did not know how to reply. Luckily, at that moment the door opened and the last guest came in.

  Jamie.

  His eyes met mine the second he stepped into the room, even as he was greeting the hosts and excusing his lateness, blaming it on a very urgent dispatch received from Bombay that same afternoon which required immediate attention. He looked very handsome in his light summer jacket, and although his hair was combed back, a rebel lock of hair, perhaps the one I had loved all those years ago, insisted on escaping the constraints of the comb to frame his forehead.

  Good manners required him to speak to all of the other guests situated between the door and my location at the window, so for what felt like a lifetime I only glanced at him occasionally, counting the number of people he had to greet before reaching my corner of the room. I could feel my hands shake and my insides tremble, but I tried to remain composed in every possible way. Mr Darcy, who was still standing next to me, seemed to sense where my interests lay and offered to fetch me a drink. It was a move exquisitely timed to leave me on my own just as Jamie was about to speak to me.

  “Miss Price.”

  “Mr Gartner.”

  “I will never get used to you calling me that.”

  “You started it.”

  His brown eyes smiled at me.

  “I am leaving next week for Calcutta,” he said, just as I had uttered the precise same words, with Mansfield Park as the name of my destination.

  We both smiled sadly. He looked at me with intent.

  “There is no time, so allow me to speak plainly. I am departing for the East Indies, but I intend to return to England at the earliest opportunity. Will you wait for me?”

  “Wait for you?”

  “The minute I saw you in London, after all these years, I knew that I could never love another. I followed you to Bath, which was no easy feat on account of my duties, and my only regret is that, in spite of my efforts, I could only see you once. After our encounter at the ball, I searched for you everywhere, but I never ran into you again - not at the Upper Rooms, or the Lower Rooms, or the Pump Room even.”

  Jamie’s words were spoken in quick succession. I wanted to ask him a million questions, but the thought of losing him again had my throat gripped as if it was an invisible hand.

  “Lady Bertram seldom goes out in company,” was all I managed to say.

  “I befriended the Allens, and with them, Miss Morland. She always said you were her particular friend, and because of your supposed closeness, I assumed that you would have told her about our past promises and mutual affection. Alas, I was wrong. What was meant to be a way to ingratiate myself so I could know your whereabouts landed me in a very delicate position. I am afraid I showed little skill at flirting.”

  “On the contrary, I believe you were very accomplished, but with the wrong person.” I was looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

  “I am ashamed to admit that I never saw Miss Morland as anything else than a way to communicate with you.”

  I looked away.

  “Perhaps.”

  “I have little to offer you just now, but once I have established my position in Calcutta, I will come back for you.” Jamie was whispering now, his voice fast and grave. “May I ask you once more if I might hope that you will await my return?”

  Jamie looked as serious as that January afternoon by the Square Tower. He had kept his word that time, and I had only reason to fear he might not do the same in future. With a trembling voice and a burning face I asked the question that had been torturing me for weeks.

  “What about Mrs Robinson?”

  Jamie gave me an incredulous stare, then smiled as if he understood, and shook his head.

  “I have the highest regard for Mrs Robinson, although I am afraid she is rather disillusioned with me at the moment. The change in my departure date means that I will not be able to attend her upcoming nuptials. She is marrying one of the writers who regularly attends her literary saloons.”

  I stared at Jamie in disbelief and opened my mouth to speak, but at that moment Mr Darcy returned with my drink. Grinning like a fool and doing my best to ignore my drumming heart, I introduced Jamie to him. The two men began to converse about British interests in the East Indies and as my heartbeat steadied, I was finally able to compare them. Now that they were together I could see that, although their features were remarkably similar, their figures, address and disposition could not have been more different. Mr Darcy was a few inches taller and had a more refined air and a slightly distant demeanour, which I now knew was more due to natural timidity than pride. Jamie, on the other hand, was more muscular, with bigger hands and wider shoulders, and a naturally affable temperament and eagerness to please that made him an easy conversationalist.

  The rest of the evening flew by. I had no other opportunity to speak privately with Jamie, but whenever our eyes met, I felt my cheeks blush with joy and my stomach fluttered in the most delightful manner, my whole being basking in the enchanting warmth of reciprocated love.

  On our way back to Berkeley Square that night, as soon as Lady Bertram was lulled to sleep by the gentle rocking of the carriage Sir Thomas cleared his throat.

  “I conducted some discreet enquiries during tonight’s dinner. The general agreement is that Mr Cole’s professional ability is admirable, but I am afraid that his morals are much more dubious than I anticipated.”

  “So do you believe me?” I asked, my nails digging into the palms of my hands.

  “More than that, Susan. Mr Yates was kind enough to confirm he was a witness to Mr Cole’s attempted assault on Murphy. I cannot in all conscience engage such a man in any capacity, so I will have to find someone else to assist me. Thankfully, Mr Allen had some helpful suggestions.”

  A covert smile escaped my lips. I could not wait to tell Murphy; she would feel vindicated.

  After a short silence, my uncle spoke again.

  “My probe on Mr Cole was not the only thing to occupy me tonight. Mr Gartner and I spoke for some time in the smoking room, and I have formed a very favourable opinion of him. I understand that you have known him a long time.”

  “All my life,” I replied, blushing.

  “He speaks highly of his late benefactor, a Captain Robinson who as well as adopted him and gave him an education, but he did not say much about his life in Portsmouth. May I enquire about his birth family?”

  “Mr Gartner’s family was very respectable. His father was a man of the cloth who died aged not yet five and thirty. Mrs Gartner’s health proved very expensive, and Mr Gartner was forced to earn a living from a young age. However, he was always a very bright boy, eager to learn and ambitious in his sights.”

  “Mr Allen believes Mr Gartner has excellent prospects if he proves his worth in Calcutta.”

  “I am sure he will.”

  My heart was beating so fast that I thought it louder than the sound of hooves on the muddy streets.

  “Am I to think that he is someone that you are particularly attached to?”

  My flushed cheeks deepened to the point that I feared my hair would turn red. The shame of hearing my uncle speak to me on such frank terms!

  “I have always held him in very high reg
ard.”

  “In that case, I believe you will be interested in the unusual request Mr Gartner made to me. He asked if I would mind if he wrote to me every so often, telling me about his experiences in the East Indies. He said he does not expect any kind of responses in return, and that his pleasure will be in writing to me in the hope that I might find his anecdotes amusing enough to share with my family.”

  Sir Thomas was looking at me pointedly. All I could do was smile, for I knew what the purpose of Jamie’s letters was. Corresponding with me was completely out of the question, so he was trying to find a way to keep in touch. I smiled.

  “Mr Gartner has a way with words, sir. I am quite convinced that you will think highly of his letters once you start receiving them.”

  “You assume I acquiesced to his request. Do not look so frightened, child, of course I did, but only because I had a vague idea that he was a good friend of yours. I also suspect that there might be some ulterior motives to his letter writing, but I shall keep them to myself for now. I have learnt through bitter personal experience that it is useless to query young women about their affections, for at best one is likely to upset them, and at worst to obtain an undesirable outcome, assuming they are indeed being true to their feelings.”

  Sir Thomas’ eyes looked moist. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket, used it to wipe his face and remained silent. He must have been speaking about Fanny; from some of the conversations I overheard upon arriving in Mansfield Park, I knew that Sir Thomas had pressed her to marry the man that would later be Maria’s downfall. I had never asked her directly because I did not wish to upset her, but I knew my sister well enough to sense that she must carry some sense of guilt for having refused the very same person who would go on to disgrace the family. Then it dawned on me that perhaps Sir Thomas was not thinking of my sister. There was another possibility: that he had maintained a similarly uncomfortable conversation with my cousin Maria, and that it was that remembrance that had put him in a melancholy mood.

  I cleared my throat. Sir Thomas may have been deceived in the past, but he no longer deserved such treatment.

  “Sir Thomas, you have always been very kind to me and I also speak for Fanny when I say that you have become like a second father to us. Therefore, it is only proper that I should not even attempt to disguise the truth from you.”

  “You speak with much confidence for a young woman, Susan.”

  “The fact is that I love Mr Gartner, sir. I have always loved him, and I know that he loves me in return. Please rest assured that there is no secret engagement or anything untoward in our attachment; Mr Gartner is too honourable to ask for matrimony when there is little he can offer just yet, or without applying for permission first to those who ought to have a say in the matter. However, I know he will be back for me one day, and ask for my hand in marriage.”

  Sir Thomas looked at me with surprise before regaining his composure.

  “This is quite an extraordinary admission, child. If I understand correctly, you intend to wait for Mr Gartner’s return, even though his journey is perilous, his success in his responsibilities uncertain, and his survival in hostile climates unknown. Is that right?”

  “He will be back for me.”

  Sir Thomas smiled.

  “In such case, you may want to know that he most pointedly asked me if he could come and see me in Mansfield Park at the first opportunity upon his return Calcutta. He ignores when that is likely to be, but was adamant that it would be sooner than the usual four or five years. I have not yet given him an answer. Do you think I should agree to his proposal?”

  “I think it would be a wonderful idea.”

  Chapter 19

  Two years and seven months later, I was sitting under the shade of the large apple tree with my watercolours and painting materials while my aunt observed my work while stroking her dog, now fully grown, on the front lawn of Mansfield Park. It was a blustery March morning, with clear blue skies and the sort of wind capable of keeping the tiniest of clouds well away. After the barren winter months, the Park was slowly but surely beginning to transform with the arrival of spring. Little buds were emerging amongst the foliage, and I was trying to capture their innocent beauty to the best of my abilities. I had drawn the outline of the leaves partly covering them first, and was now concentrating on the rather more delicate aspect of the closely knit petals to reflect their tight embrace.

  I looked up. In the lawn in front of me, my cousin Julia was taking a short walk, her arm around her husband’s and her prominent belly now evident under her gown. Her temperament had mollified since she was with child, and the change had been a blessing for everyone. Even her relationship with Sir Thomas had transformed as steadily as her changing body. It was now perfectly within the expectations of a proper and desirable bond between father and daughter, so much so that Sir Thomas did not appear to be permanently annoyed by Julia’s choice of husband.

  Walking slightly behind Mr and Mrs Yates were my cousin Tom and his betrothed, a lady that looked so joyous and contented that I found it difficult at times to recognise in her the wretched, jealous woman of yore. Caroline Bingley had received the shock of Mr Darcy’s engagement to Miss Elizabeth Bennet with as much anguish as can be expected, but it always appeared as if she secretly suspected that it was meant to happen, and so got over the worst of the heartbreak relatively quickly. Perhaps she had suffered too much for too long, but the fact was that she was soon welcoming the attentions of Mr Bertram, future baronet and heir to Mansfield Park.

  I wondered if Tom and Miss Bingley’s concurrent experiences of unreciprocated love had slowly brought them together, first as mutual sources of solace, later as more than friends. They made a handsome couple, and Sir Thomas and Lady Bertram could not be more pleased with the match. Sir Thomas, because he recognised the young lady was well connected and had the appearance, manners and good breeding one might expect from the future Lady Bertram. His only initial objection, that of the origins of the Bingley family fortune, had been set aside the moment he had known the exact sum of the lady’s substantial settlement. As to my aunt, she wholeheartedly approved of Miss Bingley, chiefly because the young woman had an exquisite eye for fashion and liked to play with her dog.

  I smiled. Tom and Caroline’s growing affection for each other was not the only source of comfort for Lady Bertram. We had recently received a surprising piece of news from Northumberland. Maria’s neighbour, Mr Charlton, had requested her hand in marriage, as my Aunt Norris explained in a letter to Sir Thomas that he was good enough to share with the rest of the family.

  When they came into the parlour to tell me the news, Maria appeared as delighted with the gentleman as I ever saw her with a certain person whose name I refuse to write down. However, I had to stop her there and then and explain that your permission was necessary before she could give his proposal any consideration. Mr Charlton appeared surprised to hear about your existence, for we have been very discreet on the family circumstances for obvious reasons, but he left us with the promise to return today and discuss the matter further. After he left, I told Maria not to feel like she had to tell the poor man everything, for sometimes it is better to know too little than to know too much, but she was adamant that Mr Charlton must be acquainted with all the tragic events of her past before an engagement might take place.

  To Maria’s joy, the gentleman called again this morning, and we went on a long walk. Maria and Mr Charlton walked a few paces ahead of me, so I do not know the exact details of the conversation, but I can tell you that Mr Charlton was shocked to begin with, only for his stance to soften as Maria spoke. When we returned to the cottage he seemed more determined than ever to make Maria his wife and, although I expected some objections to there being no settlement, nor any possibility of one, Mr Charlton said he did not wish to talk about money. Instead, he repeated his offer of marriage, this time requesting me to intercede for him in order to gain your approval.

  Allow me to be blunt on t
he matter: Mr Charlton is not wealthy. His family home, once one of the grandest in the county and still in possession of some fine features, is old and draughty, with sparse interiors and few modern comforts. As for the man himself, I would not call him handsome, but I suppose he has pleasant enough manners and shares a love of horses with dear Maria. I can only blame Maria’s affection for him on the utter lack of proper society she has been subjected to in the last few years. She has accepted her fate with grace, although I cannot say I have done the same. The wild solitude of these northern lands does not agree with me, and I rather dread to think what living in the damp and crumbling Alnham Hall is going to be like for my poor joints, although of course, to prevent unnecessary expenses, we must vacate the cottage at the first opportunity after the wedding.

  I am, therefore, writing to you with the purpose of obtaining your permission to this union, on the understanding that Maria, once married, will remain in Northumberland, away from her family, for her sins are unforgivable. If you give your blessing to the couple, I would be very grateful if you could arrange for some calico, muslin and baize to be sent to us by return of post, so as to set Maria up in her new home, for I fear that Alnham Hall will be in dire need of such things, given that Mr Charlton’s wife died over a decade ago. Mr Charlton has expressed his desire to marry as soon as it may be practicable, and I could not agree more, for I have never been a proponent of long engagements.

  Sir Thomas did not object to the proposal. In fact, he spoke no more of it, but I knew him well enough to notice an improvement in his spirits. Having once disgraced her family in the worst possible manner, Maria’s marriage to a gentleman with a very modest fortune, which just a few years before would have been considered undesirable, was generally believed to be a satisfactory outcome, for it would give her a degree of respectability. Her return to the family circle was out of the question, of course, but nobody in the Bertram family could have wished her sorry situation to remain as it was. Needless to say, Lady Bertram was overjoyed with the news, although she did her best to hide her elation from her husband, and she soon arranged for a generous shipment of clothes, ribbons, buttons and china to help equip her daughter’s new home. Lady Bertram’s relationship with her daughter had been severed forever, but she had the consolation of knowing that Maria was happily settled at last, in spite of her past mistakes.