Portrait of Jonathan

by Margaret Dickinson

  ‘Who—who, Grandfather?’ she cried.

  ‘No, no, Jonathan, of course.’

  ‘Jonathan! Here. Jonathan here? Oh where?’

  ‘There—see, over there.’

  Lavinia followed his pointing finger and indeed, alone at the back of the waiting crowd was Jonathan, standing patiently until they could join him. Giles waved and after a few moments, Jonathan saw them and returned the wave. Lavinia, her heart pounding foolishly, fluttered her hand briefly in greeting, but only once for she did not wish to appear over-eager.

  ‘I knew he’d come,’ Giles repeated. ‘I know he’s so busy just now with the ship nearing launching, but I thought he wouldn’t let me—you down.’

  Lavinia was quick to hear the slip of his tongue.

  ‘You, Giles? Let you down? Giles, did you ask him to meet us?’

  ‘No—of course I—er—um,’ he subsided in embarrassment. ‘Well, I did just say—but he was coming anyway, really he was.’

  The joy of seeing Jonathan waiting on the landing stage was diminished now for he had not come at his own wish but at Giles’ insistence.

  ‘Giles,’ she said in sudden alarm, ‘you’ve never—told him, you wouldn’t betray my trust, would you?’

  ‘No, Vinny, I wouldn’t do that. Maybe I am always putting my foot in it—I have just now—but I don’t break a confidence like that.’

  She smiled. ‘Thank you, Giles.’

  Lavinia and Phillippa took their leave of each other before disembarkation. It was obvious that Giles and Francis did not wish to prolong each other’s company and when Francis heard that Jonathan awaited them he was as anxious as Giles that they should part company. With promises to correspond and to meet again at a later date, the two girls separated, Phillippa to try her hand in the marriage-market and Lavinia to meet again the family she loved so dearly—and one person in particular.

  As he came towards them, she saw Jonathan had not changed at all and now the long months were behind her it seemed but yesterday since she had seen him.

  But there was a change—not in him but in her and she could read in his eyes that he saw it immediately. She was no longer a shy, awkward girl, but a woman—Giles had said beautiful. In Jonathan’s eyes as they met she saw first joy, then surprise swiftly followed by a strange look of hopelessness which she found hard to understand.

  ‘My dear Vinny,’ he said softly as he took her hands.

  ‘Jonathan,’ was all she found she could say for the lump in her throat. Her eyes filled with tears as he kissed her cheek in a brotherly manner.

  Then the two brothers one on either side each took her arm.

  ‘Who would have thought, Giles, that this is the same little girl we rescued that night?’ Jonathan smiled that strange half-smile as he looked down at her.

  ‘I almost didn’t know her,’ Giles said. Jonathan’s smile broadened.

  ‘She couldn’t change so much for me—I knew she’d be beautiful one day.’

  Lavinia blushed.

  ‘Now we’re embarrassing her—besides, you’ll make her conceited,’ Giles admonished his brother playfully. ‘It’s not only her appearance that’s changed—she’s already put me in my place.’

  ‘Really,’ Jonthan raised his eyebrows. ‘I thought we could trust you, Giles?’

  ‘Oh not like that—dash it all,’ Giles said quickly. ‘You tell him, Vinny.’

  ‘You remember me telling you in a letter, Jonathan, of my friendship with Lady Phillippa Selwyn?’

  She thought a look of pain crossed his face but he replied steadily enough, ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, at the time I thought your reply—your warning almost—a little strange, but now I understand.’

  Jonathan looked down at her. ‘Who told you?’ he asked sharply.

  ‘Why—Giles, but I knew before about— about it, but not who else was involved—at least I did not remember the name.’

  The hurt on his face was more than she could bear.

  ‘Oh Jonathan, I’m sorry—I should not have said anything. I should not have caused you to remember her, forgive me,’ she said softly.

  ‘I’ll see about your trunks, Vinny,’ Giles said gruffly, and disappeared swiftly into the crowd.

  Jonathan and Lavinia found themselves alone. They faced each other amidst the scurrying travellers, but alone in the crowd.

  ‘It’s not remembering which hurts, Vinny, but that you should know.’

  ‘Why—why should it matter my knowing?’

  He took her hands in his. ‘I’m not proud of what happened, Vinny, in fact I’ve always regretted it.’

  She smiled, anxious to excuse him. ‘You were young and impetuous—like Giles is now. He meant no harm in telling me—he was angry on your behalf. You see, Lord Selwyn was with us.’

  ‘With you?’ Jonathan himself was angry now. ‘He didn’t—I mean …’ Jonathan commanded his emotions quickly and managed to say calmly, but not before she had seen how her meeting Lord Selwyn distressed him, ‘What did you think of him?’

  She answered truthfully. ‘ Handsome and charming.’

  Jonathan’s face clouded.

  ‘But hard and,’ she continued, ‘I would say cruel. The only person he cares for—and I would guess ever will—is Francis, Viscount Selwyn.’

  Relief flooded Jonathan’s eyes.

  ‘You had me worried for a moment. I thought perhaps you had fallen for his charms.’

  She smiled, a little sadly. ‘ You need never worry about that, Jonathan, about me falling for the wrong man.’

  ‘How do you know …?’

  ‘I’ve got all your trunks and things,’ interrupted Giles. ‘Shall we go—or we’ll never make it to the hotel in all this commotion.’

  Lavinia heard Jonathan’s exasperated sigh, but there was nothing to do but follow Giles.

  Chapter Eight

  The surprise which had been apparent on the faces of both Giles and Jonathan on their first sight of the changed Lavinia was repeated in the expressions of her grandfather and the Eldons.

  Lord Rowan was staying with Lord and Lady Melmoth and so it was to ‘ Eldon House’ the brothers took her the following day.

  There was no ceremony about the greeting she received. As soon as the carriage stopped before the front door Lord Rowan—limping slightly Lavinia noticed immediately—closely followed by Lord and Lady Melmoth, appeared on the steps. Jonathan gave her his hand as she stepped from the carriage. But then she ran forward into her grandfather’s outstretched arms.

  ‘Lavinia, my dear, dear child. Let me look at you,’ he said when they had embraced and he held her at arm’s length. ‘ My dear child—no, I am wrong—you are no longer a child but a young woman.’ She saw the unshed tears glint in his eyes. ‘So like Mélanie,’ he added very softly, ‘in fact, exactly like Mélanie now.’

  ‘ ’Pon my soul!’ Lord Melmoth demanded of his wife. ‘Is it the same girl?’

  ‘It is indeed. Lavinia my dear,’ as she greeted her. ‘There, didn’t I tell you, Rupert?’ she added as the merry family party made their way into the house.

  The evening was a gay affair, Lavinia being the centre of attention and enjoying every moment. She had waited so long to be back here amongst the people she loved and to be worthy of their company—and to find that they were genuinely delighted in her maturity was all she could hope for—or almost.

  Though still a little shy of Jonathan—perhaps merely because she was fearful she would give away her feelings for him—she was now, nevertheless, able to meet his gaze, to converse with him without blushing in embarrassment and even to tease him a little as he and Giles teased her. Only once during that first evening did she feel a little disconcerted, a little of the old unsureness creeping back to prove that she was not wholly changed. The cause of this was once more the impetuous Giles.

  The family were, naturally, eager to hear of her life abroad, of the friends she had made—though she was careful for the moment to avoid the topic of the Selwy
ns—and of all she had learnt. Without thinking, Giles said, ‘And what of your drawings, Vinny, have you been committing more of old Jonathan’s face to paper?’ Then swiftly realising his error he added, ‘And all of us, of course. I hope you’ve done some more of me.’

  Lavinia hesitated—lost in confusion for a brief moment, her heart pounding wildly lest Jonathan or any member of the family should question her closely about her sketches, the ones Giles knew about. Recovering, she decided that there could be no harm in the family seeing the drawings and paintings she had done in France, for there she had been careful to do only an equal number of Jonathan as of the rest of the family.

  ‘As a matter of fact, Madame Givelle was very encouraging. She allowed me to use water colour and even oils on several occasions.’

  ‘Have you brought them back with you?’ Giles asked eagerly, and when she nodded, he added, ‘Do fetch them—please?’

  She smiled at her grandfather who nodded. ‘ Please, Lavinia.’

  She rose. Her grandfather had known of her sketching but had never asked to be shown her work until now.

  She fetched the folder of her work from her trunk and three oil paintings—one of Jonathan, one of Giles and one of her grandfather.

  ‘I didn’t have time to do one in oils of you, Lady Melmoth, or Lord Melmoth, or I would have done. As you can imagine, oils are rather more expensive and there was only a limited amount available.’

  She laid the folder and paintings down on a small side table.

  ‘Which do you want to see first?’

  ‘The oil paintings,’ said Giles excitedly. ‘Stand over there, Vinny, and we’ll view from here.’

  She took the three paintings to the far side of the room and held up the one of her grandfather first.

  ‘My goodness!’ said Lord Rowan.

  ‘Vinny!’ cried Giles.

  ‘Good Lord,’ exclaimed Lord Melmoth whilst Lady Melmoth clapped her hands and said, ‘ Lavinia dear, it’s wonderful.’

  But Lavinia’s eyes were on Jonathan’s face. His eyes were intent upon the picture, then his gaze met her eyes. He was the only one who had said nothing.

  Slowly, he smiled and she knew in a moment that he too liked the painting but was less voluble in his enthusiasm than the rest.

  ‘Then there’s this one of Giles.’ She held up the portrait of the laughing Giles. She had caught his impish humour to perfection. The family laughed delightedly.

  ‘Oh I say,’ Giles laughed the loudest of all. ‘Vinny, please may I have it?’

  ‘Of course. If you like.’

  Shyly now, she picked up the one of Jonathan and turned it towards them. She knew herself that she had put her heart and soul into this painting of Jonathan and she held her breath for fear anyone would guess.

  There was a small silence before Lord Rowan said, ‘That’s really excellent, my child. They are all good, but that one …’

  Oh dear, she thought, he’ll give the game away. She dare not look at Jonathan, but put the painting down and turned quickly to the folder of her sketches.

  ‘I’ve some here of Lord Melmoth and you too. Lady Melmoth.’

  These were passed round being smaller than the paintings and also they did not need the distance at which the oils needed to be viewed.

  ‘Lavinia, you indeed have a great talent, my dear. I had no idea. I do wish you had shown me your work earlier,’ Lord Rowan said with some regret. ‘Perhaps Madame Givelle’s school was not the right one in view of this, perhaps I should have sent you to a school of art.’

  ‘Oh no, Grandfather,’ Lavinia cried. ‘ No one could have been kinder or have done more for me than Madame Givelle.’

  ‘I say, look at this one of me, Evelina,’ Lord Melmoth chuckled delightedly. ‘It’s really quite exciting to have one’s portrait done. Rowan, you must supply the girl with oils—she must do us some more oil paintings. These sketches are good, but those paintings, especially that one of Jonathan, are superb. I say—hold it up again, Jonathan. Let’s all have another look.’

  Lavinia gasped and turned in surprise to see that Jonathan had moved, unnoticed whilst the others were looking at the sketches to pick up the portrait of himself and was standing looking down at it. Reluctantly almost, he held it turned away from himself towards the others, and as he did so his eyes met Lavinia’s. She saw the question in his eyes—a question she could not and would not answer. Why was the painting of him so much better than the others?

  ‘I still think the one of me is the best,’ Giles remarked and picked it up. Lavinia felt a flash of warmth towards him for his thought—she guessed Giles, knowing her secret, was trying to divert the attention away from the portrait of Jonathan. He was successful in his endeavour, but a little time later Jonathan catching her for a moment apart from the rest said in his soft tones.

  ‘Vinny, may I too ask for my portrait?’

  She looked up at him, startled for a moment.

  ‘If you wish, b-but it isn’t as g-good as they make out.’

  He smiled. ‘Dear Vinny,’ his voice was no more than a whisper. ‘You haven’t changed so much, after all.’

  He turned on his heel abruptly and left the room, pausing only to pick up the portrait of himself which he tucked possessively under his arm.

  Lavinia watched him go. Much as she loved him, she would never understand him, she thought.

  Later, Giles apologised for his thoughtless slip regarding her drawings, which could have caused her more embarrassment than it had done.

  ‘Vinny—I’m sorry. When will I learn to guard my foolish tongue?’

  ‘No harm done, Giles.’

  ‘I know—but it could have embarrassed you considerably. I’m truly sorry and yet, I’m glad it gave us a chance to see your work. I’m really delighted with this,’ he indicated the portrait of himself.

  ‘Lavinia,’ she turned to see Lady Melmoth beckoning her to sit beside her on the chaise-longue. ‘We must discuss some of the details, my dear, for your coming out. As you know your grandfather has asked me to make all the necessary arrangements, which,’ she glanced smilingly at Lord Rowan, ‘he knows will give me interminable pleasure.’

  Lord Rowan and her husband joined in laughter.

  ‘Firstly, we must arrange a grand ball at your grandfather’s house.’

  ‘At “Avonridge”?’ Lavinia asked.

  ‘Oh no, here in town. This is to celebrate your homecoming. You must let me know if there is anyone whom you met whilst in France you would like me to invite.’

  Lady Melmoth continued whilst Lavinia found Giles watching her, his face unusually serious. No doubt he was thinking of her particular friend, Phillippa Selwyn, and wondering whether Lavinia would invite her and her brother to the ball.

  Jonathan returned at that moment and came to stand beside the sofa to listen to his mother recounting all that she had planned for Lavinia. He looked down at Lavinia, amusement in his brown eyes.

  ‘It would seem, Vinny, that you will be occupied for upwards of a year, but don’t forget the most important event some time in September.’

  She looked at him questioningly.

  ‘You are committed—whether you like it or not—to launch your namesake, the “ Lavinia”.’

  ‘Oh!’ Lavinia clasped her hands delightedly. ‘But that is the best yet. Oh, I don’t mean to be ungrateful, Lady Melmoth, but that is—well—something special, is it not?’

  Lady Melmoth laughed and glanced with affection at her son and Lavinia.

  ‘Of course it is “special” to all of us and since it is named after you, naturally you must launch it.’

  ‘Are things going well, now?’ Lavinia turned back to Jonathan, who seated himself beside her. ‘No more trouble?’

  ‘Not at present,’ he sighed and the smile left his face to be replaced by a worried frown. ‘ But things are very unsettled.’

  Lavinia saw him glance at Lord Rowan in unspoken question.

  ‘You may as well tell her, my boy
. She must know sooner or later.’

  Lavinia looked from Lord Rowan back to Jonathan. He in turn regarded her face intently for a few moments—she had the fleeting impression he was absorbing every detail of her face as if to imprint it indelibly on his memory.

  There was silence in the room as they all waited for Jonathan to speak. He sighed softly so that no one but Lavinia could have heard it. He seemed to pause to recollect his thoughts, as if something had caused him to forget what he had been about to say.

  ‘We couldn’t tell you everything in letters, Lavinia, it would not have been prudent. Hostilities between the Keldon Line and Thorwald, Myron and Company have grown considerably. Although they have not—to date—attempted further sabotage of the steamship, our informants tell us that they are nevertheless scheming to bring about our downfall.’

  ‘But what can they do?’

  ‘As you know, the steamship is virtually untried as yet, and whilst we,’ he included everyone present, ‘have faith in its potential there are many who are sceptical. At the same time there are those who fear its success—as do Thorwald and Myron for if it succeeds, the days of the clipper ships are numbered and for those companies who have not had the foresight to plan to turn over—eventually—to steam, it could spell ruin.’

  ‘I see. And Thorwald and Myron do not intend to invest in a steamship.’

  ‘No—they have not the capital. You see, because it is yet unproved, it is a financial gamble. Let’s face it—if we fail, we could be ruined.’

  ‘Come, my boy. Severely hit maybe,’ said Lord Rowan, ‘ but we have not sunk our “all” into this venture, although we do have great hopes of its success.’

  ‘So Thorwald and Myron,’ said Lavinia thoughtfully, ‘must see to it that our steamship fails to ensure their own survival.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘I see.’

  There was a moment’s pause before she added quietly. ‘I suppose my father and brother are still in partnership with them.’

  Jonathan hesitated as if unwilling to hurt her. ‘Yes, I fear so.’

  She looked down at her hands ashamed of her connection with such rivals who would stop at nothing to bring ruin upon the man she loved. Then, remembering, she looked up to meet Lord Rowan’s eyes. He too, after all, was as closely related to them as she was herself.