Portrait of Jonathan

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by Margaret Dickinson


  Melmoth and Rowan were very similar in character and manner, though Melmoth lacked Rowan’s inches in height and consequently his more dignified bearing. Melmoth too was somewhat careless in his speech whereas Rowan’s cultured words were always precisely pronounced. He was the epitome of dignity but wholly devoid of any air of pomposity. That his sternness was often more apparent than Melmoth’s was, perhaps, caused by the various blows which life had dealt him, firstly in the disappointment in his only son and then the grief at his wife’s death. Now, loneliness was his greatest enemy, for whilst he shrank from the rigours of city life, it was apparent that there was still something lacking in his secluded country life.

  But now Lord Melmoth thought he had found the answer.

  ‘Tell you the truth, Rowan, it’s an enforced visit,’ Melmoth began before he had even sat down. He was inclined to be impatient like his younger son and could not bear to delay when something was worrying him.

  ‘Trouble?’ Lord Rowan’s eyes were sharp.

  ‘Well—yes, you might call it that.’

  ‘What is it, one particular ship or the whole fleet?’

  ‘What? Oh no—nothing to do with business, my dear fellow, nothing at all.’

  The Earl of Melmoth settled himself comfortably in an armchair whilst Jonathan went to stand before the long windows which looked out over a smooth lawn sloping down to the banks of a stream which wound its way to join the Avon.

  ‘Really?’ Rowan’s eyebrows lifted slightly, but he waited for his friend to continue. He merely signed to his butler to bring his guests refreshment and settled himself in the armchair opposite Lord Melmoth and waited.

  ‘It’s family trouble. Rowan.’

  ‘Ah!’ Lord Rowan sighed. ‘I’m sorry to hear that, Melmoth,’ he glanced briefly at Jonathan’s stationary figure at the window and added quickly, ‘but you know I’ll do anything I can to help.’

  ‘What? Oh Lord no! I mean,’ said the flustered Melmoth, ‘not my family, dear fellow, yours.’

  There was a moment’s pause before Lord Rowan sighed again, leant back in his chair, his elbows resting on the arms, his fingertips touching.

  ‘Tell me the worst, Rupert,’ he said resignedly, using his friend’s christian name which he did rarely and only in moments of intimate friendship.

  ‘I’m not putting this very well, but it’s rather difficult, so bear with me, please.’

  Lord Melmoth recounted the full story to Lord Rowan starting with the invitation from his son, Gervase Kelvin, and ending with Lavinia’s visit to Lord Myron, and the reason for their journey to see him. At the point in the tale when Melmoth touched, though lightly in order to try and save his friend’s feelings, on Lavinia’s visit to Lord Myron’s house, he saw Lord Rowan stiffen in his chair and in his eyes was an expression of rage and disgust.

  ‘She’s not harmed though, Wilford, we made certain of that,’ the Earl of Melmoth hastened to reassure him.

  ‘That makes my son’s part in it no less shameful,’ Lord Rowan muttered.

  ‘You cannot blame the girl—she is far too young to realise what was happening,’ Melmoth added.

  ‘No,’ Lord Rowan sighed, ‘no, poor child, she is but an innocent victim. And you say Gervase had the audacity to ask to join our Company?’

  Melmoth nodded. ‘I don’t understand it, Wilford, if he’s trying at the same time to ingratiate himself with our rival, Myron.’

  ‘He’s about some underhand practice, I don’t doubt,’ Rowan replied, and Melmoth was prompted to feel sorry for the man who must, of necessity, speak ill of his own son in such a way. The bonds of family affection are hard to break, but in the circumstances of all the past and now this latest incident, Melmoth could not be surprised that Rowan had little feeling for his son.

  ‘Forgive me, Lord Rowan,’ Jonathan had moved from the window, ‘if I presume too much, but do you think it possible that your son could be trying to be taken into our Company for—er—spying purposes?’

  ‘Quite likely, my boy. But what prompts you to think this?’

  ‘I heard—two or three years ago it is now—that your son was already an associate of Myron and Thorwald, so why, unless he’s been thrown out—which is unlikely as Lavinia was being sent to Myron—should he interest himself in our concern?’

  The two older men exchanged a look.

  ‘I think you have a point, Eldon. But surely, if that is the case, he would not have wanted you to know about Lavinia’s proposed visit to Myron.’

  ‘True, but he may be relying on the fact that he thinks we do not know of his association with their Company. I recall that at the time I heard about it, it was only a vague rumour and, quite honestly, would have remained so had I not made it my business to find out—discreetly—whether there was any truth in it,’ he smiled.

  ‘And was there?’

  ‘Oh yes. Of course, he held a very junior position and, from what I could gather, they treat him rather shamefully as regards payment of salary.’

  Lord Rowan laughed but without humour. ‘ I doubt my son’s services are worth very much, Eldon. No doubt they only allowed him to join them in the hopes that his relationship to me could prove useful to them. I’m glad you told us, my boy.’

  ‘I did not do so before, sir,’ Jonathan replied quietly, ‘for I did not wish to cause you greater disappointment—and I would not have done so now but for the unexpected turn of events.’

  ‘But what of Lavinia?’ Lord Melmoth prompted.

  ‘I suppose legally I cannot force her away from her parents—but I rather think that if she has failed in her mission to Myron—and thank God she has,’ he added fervently, ‘then my son and his wife will have little further use of her. I shall count on that being so.’

  ‘Will you have her here, then?’ Melmoth asked.

  There was a slight pause before Lord Rowan replied.

  ‘I suppose I have little choice—she is my grand-daughter, but having recollections of her parentage, I doubt we shall have much in common,’ he sighed wearily, anticipating further trouble and heartache ahead of him, this time caused by his grand-daughter.

  Lord Melmoth and his son exchanged a glance and by mutual silent consent decided not to enlighten Lord Rowan as to Lavinia’s true disposition. It would be better for him to find out for himself.

  Whilst her husband and son were making their journey, Lady Evelina Melmoth was absorbed in her self-appointed task of caring for Lavinia. She had taken the girl to heart immediately and was determined to bring some pleasure and comfort to the child’s life. In this she was ably assisted by the kind-hearted Giles.

  Lady Melmoth allowed Lavinia to sleep late the morning after the night of her unfortunate adventure and so Lord Melmoth and Viscount Eldon had departed without seeing her again.

  ‘Now, Giles,’ said his mother when they had breakfasted. ‘I would like you to help me. I propose sending a message to the Kelvins explaining that their daughter is a guest in our house and that we shall be pleased to have her stay with us for an indefinite time.’

  ‘Shall you tell them anything about last night?’

  Lady Melmoth gave an uncharacteristic snort of disapproval.

  ‘I most certainly shall not. I propose to ignore the whole affair. Let them find out how she came to be here for themselves.’

  Giles sighed. ‘Lord Myron will no doubt have acquainted them with the truth by now. Perhaps they’re worried by her disappearance.’

  ‘I very much doubt that. However, I am not concerned with those wretched people only with their most unfortunate daughter. I shall take her a breakfast tray myself very soon. Then, when I can, I shall find her some pretty dresses—I might even call my dressmaker in. The poor child is so thin I doubt whether any of my gowns would fit her.’

  ‘Do you know how old she is?’

  ‘Ah, now let me see, she was born about the time her grandmother. Lady Rowan, died. That would be about eighteen years ago. Yes, she’ll be seventeen or eighteen.’r />
  ‘Really—she only looks about fourteen.’

  ‘The child has obviously been slow to mature because she has been given no encouragement or advice. To think what she must have suffered!’

  Mother and son lapsed into silence.

  ‘Do you think she would go for a drive with me?’ Giles murmured.

  ‘I shouldn’t rush her, Giles. Let us not forget what a terrifying experience she had last night. She may not want to see any man for some considerable time.’

  However, when Lady Melmoth awoke her protégé with a prettily-laid breakfast tray, she found the girl much improved. Lavinia was certainly quiet and most painfully shy which was evidenced by the slight stutter in her speech from time to time, but all trace of the hysteria and fear she had suffered the previous evening was gone. She merely seemed overcome with gratitude towards her rescuers and to the kind Lady Melmoth. The only cloud on Lavinia’s immediate horizon appeared to be her impending return home, but when Lady Melmoth imparted her proposed plan to her, the girl actually smiled and the brown eyes lost their haunted look—though only for a fleeting moment.

  Lady Melmoth found she enjoyed the entire day. She sent for her dressmaker who promised several dresses for Lavinia as soon as was humanly possible and, once Lavinia’s protests were brushed aside. Lady Melmoth and the dressmaker took complete charge and Lavinia was not consulted at all as to style or material. Indeed, there would have been little point, for the child, though well-spoken and well-mannered, was sadly lacking in knowledge of such matters. Lady Melmoth supposed.

  When Lady Melmoth found herself alone with Giles for a few moments she told him, ‘Giles, I have had a reply from the Kelvins—they are delighted to have their daughter stay with us for a time and thank us most kindly for our hospitality.’

  ‘Thought they would,’ Giles grinned.

  Lady Evelina wrinkled her smooth brow.

  ‘The only thing which worries me is that it may provoke them to think we want to strike up a closer liaison with the family, which, of course, we do not.’

  Giles groaned.

  ‘However,’ his mother continued briskly, ‘we’ll leave that side of it to your father and Jonathan. We must concern ourselves with Lavinia herself.’

  Lord Melmoth and Viscount Eldon were not expected to return for four days, but perhaps it was as well. Lady Melmoth thought, for Lavinia was so nervous and solemn. Even the ebullient Giles could only manage to raise a smile from her once or twice—a thing unknown amongst the fair sex when in his company.

  Lady Melmoth said little but watched the two young people with an indulgent eye. Giles and Lord Rowan’s grand-daughter, she mused, now I wonder? Here her brow creased as she was reminded of the fact that should Lord Rowan—though she could scarcely contemplate such a thing—refuse to take his grand-daughter into his care the Melmoths would be thrown into a proper dilemma. But never one to dwell upon gloomy thoughts. Lady Melmoth contented herself that her husband and elder son would not fail in their mission—they could not.

  The next day brought bewilderment and unexpected pleasure for Lavinia. The dresses arrived for her—the dressmaker must have been stitching through the night to have completed them in such a short time. There was a morning dress of green and white stripes, crinoline in style but not so voluminous as those worn by Lady Melmoth herself. She could see that Lavinia had no idea of present fashion nor knew how to handle tie wide, sweeping skirts, having been kept in child’s dress by her mother. The blue afternoon dress was trimmed with white lace on the sleeves and a lace collar, and the evening dress which Lavinia would be expected to wear at dinner was pale pink silk with short puffed sleeves, the crinoline skirts being decorated with bows of darker pink ribbon.

  ‘For me, for me,’ Lavinia whispered, her brown eyes searching Lady Melmoth’s face, incredulously, as each parcel revealed such treasures as the girl had scarcely seen before and certainly never possessed.

  ‘Of course, my dear. Come, try them on. Oh, how I love new dresses, don’t you?’

  ‘I—I’ve never had any—not Hike these,’ Lavinia murmured, though in complete honesty and with no trace of sympathy-seeking in her voice.

  It was surprising what a difference the new gowns made to her appearance.

  ‘Now, when I’ve dressed your hair in a fashionable style, my dear, you’ll be quite a young lady.’

  Lady Melmoth arranged Lavinia’s hair parted in the centre with a coil at the back, but leaving three or four ringlets over each ear—a softer, prettier style than that she normally wore.

  Lavinia stared at herself in the long mirror—her fingers moving nervously over the dress material.

  ‘I’ve never worn anything so—big. I—I don’t know how to walk in it.’

  ‘Just take a turn about the room—slowly, child, slowly, head high—don’t look down at your feet or you will stumble. That’s it, small steps and your skirts follow you, see?’

  ‘Yes, yes. Oh, it’s so b-beautiful.’ She turned and came towards Lady Melmoth who saw tears glistening in the girl’s eyes. ‘ How can I ever thank you?’

  ‘Nonsense, child. To see you pleased with them is thanks enough.’

  ‘Pleased! I am overwhelmed.’

  When they went downstairs to join Giles in the drawing-room, he, with the frankness of youth, was quite unable to conceal his astonishment at the change his mother had wrought in Lavinia’s appearance within a few hours. She was quite passably pretty now—transformed from childish styles to blossoming young womanhood. But to Giles, already stricken by a feeling of protectiveness for the innocent, maltreated child, she now appeared with added charms on the threshold of womanhood.

  ‘How pretty you look, doesn’t she, Mama?’ he said taking Lavinia’s hand in his and placing it through his arm. ‘Why Jonathan and Papa will scarcely recognise you.’

  At this the girl blushed, but Giles was not to know that it was not his compliment which brought the colour to her face, but the mention of Jonathan’s name linked—however slightly—with her own.

  Lady Melmoth and Giles found it necessary to keep up the flow of idle chatter for Lavinia seemed shy to the point of awkwardness.

  ‘I shall take you for a drive tomorrow if it’s not too cold and show you the sights of London—but I am forgetting, you live here. Perhaps you have seen all there is to see.’

  The girl smiled wistfully. ‘ I scarcely think so, sir.’

  ‘Don’t call me “sir”, for goodness sakes. Reserve that for my father—or old Jonathan—if you must, but at least call me Giles.’

  The following three days passed in much the same manner: Lady Melmoth assisting Lavinia with her appearance and Giles exerting all his charm to entertain their guest and take her mind off her unfortunate experience. The drive through the city proved successful—Lavinia appeared to enjoy it, though Giles did most of the talking. Once or twice he managed to make her smile and so he considered his time well-spent. He found himself constantly thinking of ways in which he might bring a smile to her face and a light to those sad, brown eyes.

  Late afternoon of the fourth day brought the return of Lord Melmoth and Jonathan.

  ‘Ah, my dear,’ said the Earl entering the drawing-room, his hands outstretched to his wife, who was alone in the room, Giles and Lavinia being out driving once more.

  ‘Ah, Rupert, you are returned safe and well, I trust?’

  ‘Yes, yes, my dear.’

  ‘And your trip was successful?’

  ‘Well—er—now. I must tell you all about it, but first allow me to change from my travelling clothes—the roads are long and dusty.’

  ‘Of course. Jonathan, my dear,’ Lady Melmoth said as Viscount Eldon also entered the room. He kissed his mother affectionately on the cheek, and stood back to look at her, his strange smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

  ‘Mama has been enjoying herself, eh sir?’

  ‘Eh what—mmm?’ Lord Melmoth turned back from the doorway. ‘Why shouldn’t she enjoy herself, eh?


  But mother and son exchanged a secret smile whilst Lord Melmoth disappeared up the wide stairs muttering to himself.

  ‘But,’ Jonathan was saying softly, ‘we know just how she has been enjoying herself, don’t we, dearest Mama? And how is your little fledgling?’

  ‘Jonathan, my dear,’ Lady Melmoth put her hand on her tall son’s arm, ‘you’d never believe the change in the girl—she is quite a young woman once divested of those childish clothes and adorned in something more befitting her age.’

  ‘And just how old is she?’

  ‘I haven’t asked her, but she must be seventeen or eighteen. Giles is quite captivated by her,’ Lady Melmoth laughed.

  ‘Is he indeed?’ Jonathan said rather shortly and turned away abruptly. ‘ I too must change before dinner,’ and he left the room whilst his mother’s puzzled eyes followed him.

  What, she mused, was going on in the mind of her taciturn son?

  For a few moments before dinner the Eldon family found themselves together before Lavinia appeared.

  ‘Now, Rupert, tell me of your visit to Lord Rowan.’

  ‘Well, m’dear, Rowan was distressed at what we had to tell him—as I had imagined he would be…’

  ‘But did he say he would help the child?’

  ‘Well—yes,’ Lord Melmoth said slowly. ‘You don’t sound too sure. Surely he did not refuse—she is his grand-daughter?’

  ‘He was not unwilling, my dear Evelina, but somewhat doubtful of the success of such a move. Remember, my dear. Rowan hardly knows his grand-daughter. He has not seen her for a number of years and therefore has no notion of the girl’s adult character. He can only—unfortunately—compare her with her parents and in so doing is apprehensive. No doubt he fears she will bring similar trouble to him as her father before her did.’

  ‘Ah, I understand,’ his good wife said gently. ‘But did you not tell him of the resemblance between Lavinia and her grandmother, Mélanie?’

 

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