Portrait of Jonathan

by Margaret Dickinson

But the following afternoon found her seated beside Jonathan in the brougham, her cheeks pink with excitement. She was wrapped warmly in a fur-trimmed cape which Lady Melmoth had given her.

  The East India Docks, which she had never visited before, were a different world to her. The wharves seemed cluttered with cargo being unloaded from the tea clippers. Cranes lifted the tea-chests and boxes from the shops on to the wharf, and then the men with running-barrows methodically moved the chests again, though how, she wondered, they knew where everything was or where it should go, she could not imagine. Voices filled the air—instructions from those in charge, with replies, sometimes, of disagreement if the order was impracticable. Horses harnessed to carts stood patiently whilst receiving a load. The men were dressed in work-a-day clothes, many in shirt sleeves and cloth caps, some had a leather apron over their trousers. Here and there smartly dressed gentlemen in top hats and frock coats stood watching the proceedings. They must be shipowners, Lavinia thought.

  ‘Take my arm lest you slip, Vinny—mind that rope.’

  Shyly she put her arm in his and although the surroundings captivated her attention, she was nevertheless conscious the whole time of his nearness. The masts of the sailing ships lined up along the wharves resembled a forest of tall, straight trees. Jonathan pointed out the ships belonging to the Keldon Line.

  ‘Do they only carry tea, Jonathan? Surely it is a wasted journey if they go from here empty?’

  He smiled down at her. ‘No, they take a great deal of merchandise from this country on their outward journey—almost everything you could think of: lead, iron, cottons. And of course, on the return although the main cargo is tea, they also bring other merchandise back—silks and so on.’

  They walked on. The sight of the clippers enthralled Lavinia, not only because they were Jonathan’s ships, but the thought of them travelling gamely across the wild oceans captivated her romantic imagination.

  ‘Come,’ said Jonathan. ‘I want to show you my pride and joy.’

  Eagerly she followed him as they returned to the brougham to travel a short distance.

  ‘This is Blackwall,’ Jonathan explained as the vehicle drew to a halt once more, ‘ where ships are built.’

  They walked some distance amongst the workmen—carpenters, blacksmiths and joiners. Jonathan greeted many of them by name and they grinned and touched their caps to him. It seemed he was a regular visitor here and was popular with the shipbuilders.

  ‘Here we are.’

  Above them rose the enormous skeleton of a ship in the process of being built.

  ‘We’re keeping to much the same graceful shape of the clipper ships, Vinny.’

  As Jonathan spoke, Lavinia looked up at him. His eyes were afire with enthusiasm, and his gaze roamed over the lines of the unfinished ship caressingly almost. It was obvious to her, in a moment, that all his hopes and dreams were bound up with this ship.

  ‘But she will be fitted with a compound steam engine, which we hope will mean she should be able to travel from China to England non-stop.’

  As Lavinia seemed puzzled Jonathan continued. ‘You see the steamships are having a hard fight to prove themselves against the clippers. They have to carry huge quantities of coal—which naturally takes up valuable cargo space, or they have to make frequent stops to refuel, and that can cause a lot of difficulties in various ways. But with this more economical engine plus the fact that the Suez Canal will be opening soon—the steamship will begin to prove itself.’

  ‘I see, and will the clipper ship be useless then?’

  ‘Oh no—they’ll last for many years and be worthy craft, but gradually they will be superseded by steam, there’s no doubt about it. But all changes of this nature don’t happen overnight. It takes years of gradual development, of trial and error by the inventors and a good deal of risk on the part of the shipping companies like ourselves.’

  ‘What are you g-going to call her?’ Lavinia asked.

  ‘We haven’t decided yet—it will be some time before she is launched, they’ve only just well begun. But I had wondered about “Mélanie” after your grandmother.’

  ‘My grandfather is involved with the s-steamship then?’

  Jonathan nodded.

  ‘He must be a very—forward-thinking p-person,’ she murmured.

  ‘He is. He’s a wonderful man, Lavinia. You’ll like him.’

  Lavinia looked away, none too sure. She was afraid of the proposed meeting between herself and her grandfather, and, even more, she feared her return home to her parents, which must be inevitable once she had met her grandfather. But with determined resolve she put such dismal thoughts from her mind and continued to enjoy her precious afternoon spent with Jonathan.

  On their drive back home, Jonathan pointed out various places of interest to Lavinia.

  ‘But I am forgetting, Vinny, you live here, you must have seen these places a hundred times and here I am showing them to you as if you were a stranger to London.’

  ‘No—I haven’t seen them before—truly. Mama does not believe in visiting p-places of interest. I’ve heard about them, of course, and occasionally seen such places as the Tower or the Houses of Parliament and even Buckingham Palace. But it’s not the same as really visiting them for that purpose. I try to read as much as I c-can, but it’s not always easy. Papa says it is a waste of time educating a girl and Mama says all the m-money for an education must go for Roderick.’

  ‘Poor child,’ Jonathan murmured under his breath and hoped that above the rattling wheels of the brougham Lavinia had not heard him. He could not bring himself to answer her. He was so overcome with anger against her thoughtless, selfish parents that he could think of no suitable reply.

  Lavinia fell silent too. But the glow of the afternoon remained with her for a long time and indeed helped her to face the meeting with her grandfather with a little more equanimity.

  The day arrived all too soon for Lavinia for she wished her stay with the Eldons could last for ever, and the meeting with her grandfather, she imagined, would terminate her stay here. She felt sure she would then be despatched home to her parents, and that the Eldons had, in fact, only extended their hospitality to her until her grandfather had met her.

  In her room, dressed in the blue afternoon dress Lady Melmoth had bought her, Lavinia heard the carriage arrive. She could not bring herself even to peek out of the window—so afraid was she that he was a terrifying person. A few moments elapsed. Then she heard the maid’s footsteps outside the door and her soft knock.

  ‘Will you come down now, please, Miss Kelvin? Lord Rowan has arrived.’

  ‘Y-yes.’

  The footsteps moved away. Lavinia remained sitting before her mirror as if rooted to the dressing-table stool. She could not move, fear held her captive. But she knew she must go down. She could not disgrace the Eldons who had been so indescribably kind. They wanted her to meet Lord Rowan so she would do so.

  The length of the stairs seemed all too short whereas normally it seemed interminably long. Lavinia paused outside the door of the drawing-room and took a deep breath. She reached for the knob with trembling fingers.

  ‘Oh!’ she gave a startled cry. Someone had come up from behind her and taken her hand.

  She looked round to meet Jonathan’s brown eyes and see his small smile.

  ‘Don’t be frightened, Vinny. He can’t help but love you.’

  Before she could reply, he opened the door and led her into the room.

  Chapter Five

  Lady Melmoth was seated on the sofa looking up at her husband and a stranger who stood together in front of the fire. Giles stood behind his mother. He turned and smiled at Lavinia as she entered with Jonathan. But immediately, Lavinia’s eyes went to the stranger. He was an elderly man, but so tall and straight that his appearance belled his age. His hair was silver and he had a moustache which ended in two sharp points.

  Lord Rowan turned, mid-sentence, and caught sight of Lavinia’s small figure standing besi
de Jonathan, almost shrinking towards him for protection.

  Her huge brown eyes were riveted upon her grandfather’s face. Instantly, he saw the likeness between this child and his wife, Mélanie. Although this girl was only a shadow of Mélanie’s beauty and personality, he could see at a glance she was a potential beauty. What chance had she had, he thought angrily, with Gervase as a parent?

  Lord Rowan had stopped speaking without finishing his sentence, losing concentration as his attention was caught and held by the sight of his granddaughter.

  ‘Here she is, sir,’ Jonathan was saying leading her forward.

  She came, unwillingly. Lord Rowan could see, to stand before him and submit to his scrutiny. She had lowered her eyes now and was looking at the floor, afraid to meet his gaze.

  He cupped her chin with his strong fingers.

  ‘Don’t be afraid, my dear,’ he said softly.

  She raised her eyes slowly to look into his blue, clear and honest eyes, which were at one and the same time stern but kind. He smiled down at her and Lavinia felt the warmth of his regard. She smiled back tremulously and in that moment there was created a bond of affection and mutual trust, nothing would or could ever break.

  All in that moment, Lavinia knew she had found someone she could depend upon, someone who would care for her and care about her. Lord Rowan too realised that here was a child so unlike her parentage that it was as if they did not exist but that she was his own daughter—his and Mélanie’s child.

  ‘Sit down here beside me, my dear, and tell me about yourself—we have many years to catch up on, have we not?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said shyly.

  ‘Well,’ Lord Rowan said, though not unkindly, ‘I’m waiting.’

  ‘There’s n-not much to tell. I haven’t any of the usual accomplishments—all the money was spent on a tutor for Roderick. Papa considers it unnecessary for a girl to be educated—though I can read and write legibly,’ she added, anxious not to disgrace herself immediately in his eyes. ‘And l-love sketching, though I do it in secret. Papa and Mama do not approve and Roderick laughs at my efforts. You—you w-won’t tell them, will you?’ Her brown eyes were pleading.

  ‘No—no—I won’t tell them.’ There was a strange catch in Lord Rowan’s voice. Even though Lavinia had said all this without a trace of self-pity for she had merely stated the situation as it was, she little realised how pitiful it sounded to her listeners.

  ‘I know a lot of places in London. Giles took me driving—and the docks and the clippers and even the new steamship—Jonathan t-took me.’

  ‘Well, now, it seems that your education during the past week or so in the hands of these two fine young men has improved,’ Lord Rowan teased, and Lavinia blushed. ‘But I am going to suggest taking you away from them.’

  The look of misery which came to Lavinia’s face could not help but wring the hearts of all in the room.

  ‘You mean—I m-must go home?’ she whispered.

  ‘Home with me, I mean, back to Warwickshire.’ ‘To “Avonridge”,’ her face brightened a little, ‘for a holiday?’

  ‘No,’ Lord Rowan touched her hair gently. ‘No, not for a holiday—for good. I want you to make your home with me, if you would like to do that.’

  ‘Like it—like …’ But she could not go on for tears of happiness choked her.

  ‘There, there,’ he soothed, putting his arms about her. ‘Are you so averse to the idea?’

  ‘Oh no, no,’ she cried fiercely, throwing her thin arms about his neck and holding on to him so tightly as if she would never let go. ‘It’s the most wonderful thing that could ever happen.’

  Her words ended in an emotional squeak, so overcome was she by her good fortune, and everyone in the room laughed, though kindly thus relieving much of the drama of the moment. Lavinia, through her tears, laughed too and burled her head against her grandfather’s shoulder, smiling happily to herself.

  So it was settled between them, her parents being considered a secondary problem. In fact, Lord Rowan paid a swift and unexpected visit to his son’s dwelling, putting forward the proposition and extracting agreement from the spluttering Gervase and the nervous Sarah, and leaving before they had time to retract their consent.

  Lavinia seemed perfectly happy to make the break with her parents and brother without even seeing them again and this, to Lord Rowan and the four members of the Eldon family, whilst pitiful, served to emphasise the misery she must have suffered under her parents’roof. No doubt the last act of their misuse of her—using her as a pawn in a tactical game with Lord Myron—had severed any bonds between Lavinia and her parents.

  A few days later, Lavinia left ‘ Eldon House’ with Lord Rowan to journey to her new home in Warwickshire, her only belongings being the clothes given to her by Lady Melmoth and a few sketches. Although Lavinia already loved Lord Rowan dearly, she could not help but regret leaving ‘Eldon House’—the kindly Lord and Lady Melmoth, the gay Giles and, of course, Jonathan, whom least of all she wished to leave. She was heartened by the fact that Lady Melmoth pressed her to come and stay with them again any time she felt so inclined, and also to hear Lord Rowan giving open invitation to the Eldons to visit ‘Avonridge’.

  The journey was long but of infinite interest to the girl and Lord Rowan was amused by her obvious delight in the countryside and all the sights and sounds which were so unfamiliar to a city-dweller.

  They made the journey leisurely enjoying frequent stops and an overnight stay at about the half-way stage.

  ‘Oh, the trees and fields!’ Lavinia was ecstatic in her praise, and lost much of her shyness in her enthusiasm. The days were cold, but bright, and the countryside was peaceful and welcoming to the child from the smoke and dirt of the city.

  At last the carriage turned off the road through wrought-iron gates which were opened by a man who rushed out from a small cottage near the main gates. He touched his cap respectfully to the occupants of the carriage. Lavinia saw two small girls staring at them from the cottage windows—it was a tiny cottage, whitewashed, the windows painted black with a thatched roof. On up the lane through magnificent parkland. Deer raised their heads questioningly.

  ‘Oh Grandfather—is all this yours?’

  ‘Yes, my dear. Do you think you can be happy here?’

  ‘It’s wonderful—wonderful.’

  ‘There’s the house—see through the trees.’

  As they neared the house itself, Lavinia saw that it was rather severe-looking but nevertheless charming. It was square from the front, but the centre section was set back a little, the front entrance being exactly in the centre. Swiftly she counted the windows—there seemed to be so many—twenty, and then there were eight tiny dormer windows jutting out of the roof.

  Round the main door ivy grew softening the harsh lines of the building. The drive curved in a semi-circle before the house, but the smooth lawns were divided by paths and trees. Neatly trimmed hedges bordered the driveway.

  The interior of the house, Lavinia found, as Lord Rowan led her inside, was even more luxurious than the Eldons’ town house. She felt a little overwhelmed by the ornate, painted ceilings, the panelled doors and wide, sweeping staircase. She was unaccustomed to grandeur of this standard.

  Lavinia gazed around her and at last she glanced up at Lord Rowan to find him watching her.

  ‘Welcome home, my child,’ he said softly, and she read the tender affection in his eyes. ‘This house has been lacking something ever since your grandmother died. Now, with you here, I can see what it was. It will be a home once more from now on.’

  Lavinia blushed at the compliment. She was unused to such demonstrations of affection—indeed she was unused to being loved and she found it strangely moving to be welcomed into these beautiful surroundings and to realise that at last she belonged somewhere and to someone.

  If only Jonathan were here, her happiness would be complete. Be thankful, she reminded herself sharply, for your present good fortune.

 
; ‘Here’s Mrs Matthews, my housekeeper, to welcome us,’ Lord Rowan was saying.

  A buxom, middle-aged woman appeared in the hall. The smile on her rosy face was wide and cheerful. She wore a plain black dress, with a white lace collar, but her welcome belied the severity of her dress. She bobbed a curtsy.

  ‘Good afternoon, your Lordship, you’re a little earlier than we expected. Did you have a pleasant journey, sir?’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Mrs Matthews. This is my grand-daughter about whom I told you, Mrs Matthews. Have you prepared a room for her as I requested?’

  ‘Yes, sir. Everything’s ready.’

  ‘Go with Mrs Matthews, Lavinia.’

  As Lavinia stepped forward towards the stairs, she heard her grandfather say in undertones to his housekeeper, ‘Treat her kindly, Mrs Matthews. She has had an unfortunate time.’

  ‘Yes, sir, of course. Poor lamb!’ The woman clucked sympathetically. She turned and came after Lavinia who was ascending the staircase uncertainly.

  ‘Now, you come with me, my dear. I expect you’re quite worn out with all that travelling. You’ve got a lovely room at the front of the house, not far from his Lordship’s room, overlooking the park.’

  The woman chattered on in kindly tones, until Lavinia could not help but feel welcome.

  As she reached the last curve of the staircase which would take her out of sight of the main hall, she glanced down to see her grandfather watching her, a slight frown on his face. As her eyes met his, he smiled swiftly and turned to enter a room to the left of the hall. She felt a sudden fear. Although he seemed pleased to have her here, was she in some way causing him to frown worriedly?

  Lavinia promised herself solemnly that she would devote herself entirely to obeying her grandfather’s every command, and in so doing she would attempt with every day to repay the debt of gratitude she owed him.

  Perhaps, if she concentrated hard enough on other people and other things, she would not find Jonathan so much in her thoughts.

  The days and weeks passed, winter gave way to early spring, and Lavinia grew more contented with each passing hour. She enjoyed wandering through the vast number of rooms at ‘Avonridge’. The long drawing-room had windows down one side, the huge marble fireplace being on the opposite wall. The furniture—chosen with her grandmother’s influence Lavinia imagined—was in the French style, the chairs and small side tables with graceful lines and gently curving legs, and the chairs upholstered in rich brocade or tapestries which, she learnt later, her grandmother had worked. Various portraits lined the walls—ancestors, she presumed. The one immediately above the fireplace intrigued her. The gentle face held some resemblance to herself, Lavinia could see, but the woman in the portrait. Lady Rowan, was beautiful and elegant and the girl who stared up at it with soulful brown eyes envied the face on the canvas.