Portrait of Jonathan

by Margaret Dickinson

  ‘We are unfortunate in our connections, are we not, Grandfather?’

  He nodded. ‘It is a blessing we have each other now, my dear.’

  Jonathan’s hand covered hers briefly in a swift gesture of comfort, then he rose and left her abruptly, but not before his action had brought tears of gratitude and love to Lavinia’s eyes.

  During the months that followed her return however, Lavinia had little time to worry unduly about the growing hostilities between the rival companies, for her life was a whirl of social gaiety and the most enjoyable was to be the ball given for her by her grandfather.

  It was to be held at Lord Rowan’s town house, which had been closed down for a number of years since his virtual retirement to ‘Avonridge’. But he re-opened the house now for Lavinia’s benefit, for not only must she entertain her guests somewhere in town, but during the Season she could not impose upon the Eldons’ hospitality too long. Lord Rowan, much to his surprise, found that city life was not so wearisome as it had previously become now that he had Lavinia with him. Now she was home with him again, he had no great desire to return to Warwickshire alone, but decided to remain in London with her. The Eldon brothers—particularly Giles—were happy to act as Lavinia’s escorts to the various functions to which she found herself invited.

  ‘I don’t doubt, Jonathan,’ Giles would say teasingly to him in Lavinia’s presence, ‘that you and I will have to fight off all the many suitors for Lavinia’s hand.’ And he would assume a mournful expression.

  ‘Ah, but you must not fight them all off, Giles,’ she would respond playfully, ‘only the less desirable ones.’

  To which Giles would reply, clutching his heart dramatically. ‘Ah, why dost thou wound me so, fair maiden, dost thou not know I pine daily for thy favours?’

  Whereupon Lavinia would dissolve into unladylike giggles, whilst Jonathan would smile his curious half-smile and finger the scar on his cheek thoughtfully. Who would have thought that the woe-begone, shy child Lavinia had been could be transformed into a confident, self-possessed young woman, well able to match Giles’ teasing.

  The invitation, which Lavinia wished to extend to Phillippa Selwyn to attend the ball, caused her some concern and she felt obliged to discuss the matter with Jonathan, for she did not wish to cause the Eldons any embarrassment as they, naturally, were her principal guests—but she felt that if Jonathan himself were agreeable then the other members of his family would follow suit.

  She did not relish the prospect of raising the subject with him again, for the last time it had been mentioned, the day she had returned from France, he had obviously been disturbed to learn she knew of the incident between Viscount Selwyn and himself.

  Unfortunately, Jonathan was at this time a difficult person with whom to hold a conversation, for when he was not actually absent for several days at a time, he always seemed anxious to be off again—his preoccupation with the steamship increasing each day.

  One Sunday afternoon, Lavinia decided to take the landau to ‘Eldon House’, thinking that Jonathan could not possibly be engaged in business upon the Sabbath. She knew too that she did not need to be ceremonious about her visits there, as she was treated as one of the family. The August day was warm and she took a great deal of trouble over her appearance. Her dress was emerald green silk with matching frills being the new style—less crinoline, but draped at the back to form a bustle and train. The bodice was tight-fitting with white lace at her throat. Her hat, matching green, had a white feather. Her parasol too was emerald.

  The drive to ‘Eldon House’ was pleasant, but she enjoyed it with only half her attention for her mind was preoccupied with the speech she proposed to deliver to Jonathan. She alighted from the vehicle and entered the house, the butler opening the door immediately the landau drew up. The butler announced her and she went into the drawing-room to greet Lady Melmoth.

  ‘My dear Lavinia, what a pleasant surprise.’

  ‘Good afternoon, Lady Melmoth. I really came to see Jonathan—is he at home?’

  ‘Why yes. I believe he is in the little room he calls his study. You know where it is?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then ran along and find him, dear.’ Lady Melmoth smiled and watched the girl go, thoughtfully. Now why, she pondered, should Lavinia seem rather agitated? Lady Melmoth shrugged and picked up her book again.

  Lavinia made her way through the numerous corridors to the back of the house where she knew Jonathan’s study to be. She knocked on the door and hearing his soft tones call ‘come in’ she entered. He was sitting at a desk, but not working. He was leaning back in his chair his elbows resting on each arm of the chair, his finger-tips together. He was staring up at the portrait of himself which Lavinia had painted and which now hung above the fireplace directly opposite his desk.

  ‘What is it?’ he said absently without turning, obviously thinking it was one of the servants.

  ‘I w-wanted to talk to you, Jonathan,’ Lavinia said hesitantly.

  She saw him jump and when he leapt up and turned to look at her, the startled expression on his face surprised her.

  ‘Vinny! I was just thinking about you—I mean—’ he ran his hand through his hair. She had never seen him so disconcerted before, but the next moment he was in command of himself again and later she wondered if she had misunderstood his words. Could he have been so lost in thought—as he obviously had been—on account of her and the portrait which seemed to command his attention?

  ‘Come and sit down. What brings you to “Eldon House”? I would have thought you would have been out driving with an admirer on such a beautiful afternoon.’

  She laughed gaily as she sat down. ‘Perhaps I would be, if I had an admirer.’

  He stood beside her chair and looked down at her for a moment before turning away and going to stand beside the window. He leant against the frame and turned back to face her, so that his face was in shadow whilst the light was full on her.

  ‘Jonathan—I want to ask you something. It’s rather— difficult—rather personal—so forgive me if …’ she paused, took a deep breath and began again. ‘You will be coming to the ball, won’t you?’

  ‘Why, of course. I wouldn’t miss that for the world,’ he said softly.

  ‘Well—you know of my friendship with Phillippa Selwyn. Would it cause you or your family embarrassment if I sent her an invitation?—I would not ask her brother, of course, but I’m sure she would feel hurt if she were not invited. But on the other hand,’ Lavinia rushed on, rather disconcerted by Jonathan’s silence as he stood, quite still, in the semi-shadow. ‘If it would prevent you or any of your family from attending, or cause you any—any embarrassment, then I won’t invite her.’

  The room was still, the only sound being the steady ticking of the mahogany grandfather clock in the corner, as Lavinia waited anxiously for Jonathan’s reply. Had she angered or offended him?

  ‘Is it so important to you that I—that we—should attend in preference to Lady Phillippa?’ Jonathan’s deep tones asked.

  ‘But of course,’ she said her brown eyes widening in surprise. ‘How can you ask such a thing? You know how much you—all your family mean to me,’ she blushed and looked down at her lap, her fingers plucking nervously at her lace gloves. Jonathan turned away quickly and looked out of the window. There was an even longer pause. At last he said, ‘Send an invitation to your friend—Lord Francis too, if you wish—all that happened a long time ago and is best forgotten by all concerned.’

  Lavinia fancied she detected a note of bitterness creep into his tone.

  ‘No—I shall not ask Lord Francis for I don’t like him much anyway, but I shall ask Phillippa, if you’re really sure …’

  Jonathan turned from the window and came to stand before her as she rose now to leave. He took her hands in his.

  ‘It was sweet of you to be so concerned on my behalf, my dear. But I wish you had known nothing of the incident.’

  She smiled gently at him, lovin
g him the more for admitting his shame. The face of Lady Anthea floated before her. Tears welled in Lavinia’s eyes as she imagined the suffering Lady Anthea had caused Jonathan.

  ‘My only sorrow is how you were hurt by it all.’ She bent her head briefly and laid her cheek against his hand for an instant. Then, astonished and chagrined by her own daring and revealing show of emotion, she pulled herself free and ran from the room without looking back.

  Lavinia did not see any of the Eldon family again before the ball and the lapse of time allowed her to hope that Jonathan would have forgotten her rash, display of affection towards him.

  Her excitement grew as the evening approached. Her delight in her new ballgown knew no bounds. It was white silk, the low neckline trimmed with lace which also edged the folds of the train. The over-skirt, decorated with pink roses, was looped beneath which the material was pleated. She wore long gloves, pink to match the roses, and her black hair, with small curls framing her forehead, was dressed in a profusion of ringlets cascading to her shoulders.

  Lavinia had, as she had told Jonathan, invited Phillippa only and not Lord Francis. She was unconcerned whether her action in so doing caused a stir in various social circles. Jonathan’s feelings were far more important to her than the whispers behind fluttering fans and gloved hands.

  Lavinia and her grandfather stood at the foot of the six steps which led down from the double doors into the ballroom and as each guest was announced they greeted them as they came down the stairs into the ballroom. Many of the guests were entirely unknown to Lavinia herself but were families whom her grandfather knew and whom he thought it polite to invite. Several of the younger guests were the friends and acquaintances Lavinia had made since her return from France, when her life had become a social whirl. Many of the young men were anxious to claim a dance with her and Lavinia soon found her programme filling up rapidly. She watched the door anxiously for the arrival of the Eldons, for she did not want her card to be completely filled before Jonathan, and of course Giles too, had at least had had an opportunity of claiming a dance with her.

  ‘You look very charming in that gown, my dear,’ remarked her grandfather, when there was a pause between the arrival of guests. She smiled up at him, her brown eyes dancing.

  ‘Then it is all thanks to you, dear Grandfather. I can never thank you enough for having changed my life from what it was to all this.’

  He patted her hand. ‘All the thanks I need are to see you happy—you are happy?’

  ‘Yes, yes I am,’ she squeezed his arm and glanced up at the doors as the Eldons were announced. ‘ Even more so now,’ she murmured, and though she had not intended her grandfather should hear, she realised he had done so for he gave her hand an answering squeeze in understanding, although she knew he would not know to which of the two brothers standing side by side at the top of the stairs she had given her heart.

  ‘Vinny, you look absolutely beautiful,’ Giles came bounding down the stairs followed more sedately by Lord and Lady Melmoth and Jonathan.

  ‘Good evening, sir. Let me have your card, Vinny, before all the dances are taken. Ah, only just in time I see. Now, that one and that one …’

  ‘Now Giles, leave some for me,’ and adroitly Jonathan flicked her card from Giles’ fingers and casually pencilled his own name beside the three remaining dances on her card. He returned her programme to her with a slight bow.

  ‘Oh well, I got two,’ Giles grinned and winked in conspiracy at her.

  Later, examining her card to see whom her various partners were, Lavinia saw that two of the dances with Jonathan were the waltz. How fortunate that she had learnt to waltz at school in France.

  Lavinia danced several dances with young men anxious, she knew, to charm her, whilst in themselves she found no fault, she could have no interest in them. Then as the orchestra drifted into the three/ four time she knew it was time for Jonathan’s first dance. Patiently, she waited until he should claim her, willing herself not to search the ballroom for her.

  ‘Vinny, may I claim this dance?’ said a soft voice at her elbow and there he was. She rose and he slipped his arm about her waist. They slid gracefully and easily into the steps as if they belonged together. His chin was no more than an inch from her forehead and his nearness to her made her heart pound.

  ‘I haven’t seen you dancing before, Jonathan,’ she looked up at him.

  He was smiling down at her with that curious half-smile.

  ‘I have been waiting until now—until my dance with you.’

  She lowered her eyes as a quick thrill of delight ran through her to think that he had been uninterested in dancing until his dance with her.

  They danced on in silence.

  All too quickly the music ended and her first dance with Jonathan was over. He raised her hand to his lips.

  ‘Until the next waltz, Vinny.’ And he left her quickly and moved through the throng of guests. She watched him go, her eyes following him until her next partner claimed her attention.

  A little later, Lavinia found herself partnered by Giles in a quadrille.

  ‘You look absolutely lovely, Vinny. You know, I still can’t get over the change in you. Why, you’re the prettiest girl here.’

  Lavinia laughed at his flattery, but nevertheless she enjoyed hearing his words.

  Just as their dance was coming to an end, there was a stir amongst the guests and whispers. Simultaneously, Lavinia and Giles turned towards the door and saw the reason for the disturbance.

  At the top of the stairs surveying the gathering was Lady Anthea Thorwald, resplendent in a gown of midnight blue, cut very low to reveal her lovely white shoulders and neck. And at her side, of all people, was Lord Francis, Viscount Selwyn.

  Lavinia gasped and turned to Giles.

  ‘Giles—what are they doing here?’

  ‘Eh—what?’ As he turned she saw his face was serious—gone in an instant was all his gaiety.

  ‘Giles, I didn’t send either of them an invitation. Why—how do they come to be here?’

  His face hardened. ‘They mean to cause you—and all of us I shouldn’t wonder—a great deal of embarrassment.’

  The other guests, over their initial surprise, resumed their dancing, but Giles and Lavinia moved to the side.

  Lady Anthea descended the stairs on Lord Francis’ arm, smiling smugly to herself, obviously well-satisfied with the stir their entrance had caused.

  ‘Oh dear,’ Lavinia sighed, ‘Jonathan will think I invited Lord Selwyn, but I told him I would not do so.’

  ‘They’re talking to your grandfather. What impertinence they’ve got! They know Lord Rowan is too much of a gentleman to ask them to leave, or do anything other than say they’re welcome.’

  At that moment, Lavinia found herself whisked away by her next partner. She knew she was ungracious towards the young man for throughout the dance she was preoccupied with her thoughts.

  The arrival of Lord Selwyn and Lady Anthea had undoubtedly spoilt the evening for her. The next dance was her second waltz with Jonathan and whilst she would not have sought him out, her partner happened to leave her at the end of the dance close to where Jonathan and Giles were talking in low voices. Lavinia tried to turn away, but Jonathan raised his voice.

  ‘Don’t ran away, Vinny, is it not our waltz next?’

  She felt herself blushing faintly, but she moved forward to join them. Her eyes sought Jonathan’s face—was he distressed by the arrival of Lady Anthea? Did he wonder whether she, Lavinia, had after all invited Lord Selwyn and so prompted the arrival not only of him but also of Lady Anthea too?

  His expression told her nothing.

  ‘Jonathan, I …’ she began, but at that moment she heard a soft voice and a swish of a gown behind her and she caught the scent of exquisite perfume. Lavinia saw Jonathan’s eyes leave hers and seek those of Lady Anthea.

  ‘Jonathan—how wonderful!’

  ‘Lady Anthea,’ Jonathan said politely, but again showing nothing of
what he was actually thinking. ‘This is somewhat a surprise,’ he continued mildly.

  ‘But not unpleasant,’ Lady Anthea smiled up at him, her eyes flirting with him.

  Lord Selwyn strolled up.

  ‘Ah, the radiant and beautiful Miss Kelvin,’ Lord Francis kissed her hand. ‘May I have the honour of this next dance—the waltz, I believe?’

  ‘I’m sorry, but …’ she hesitated and cast a pleading glance at Jonathan.

  ‘Miss Kelvin is engaged for the next dance with me.’

  ‘Ah, how de do, Eldon, didn’t see you there. Well, I trust? Ha-ha.’ And he laughed again.

  Jonathan nodded shortly, his eyes unreadable depths.

  ‘Let the children have their dance,’ purred Lady Anthea. ‘Besides, I want to waltz with you, Jonathan, it’s so long since …’ she seemed about to say more but altered her line of conversation. ‘After all,’ she laughed, ‘ they are more of an age, don’t you think?’

  Lord Selwyn joined her in laughter, but neither Jonathan nor Lavinia, nor Giles, who had heard the entire exchange of conversation, found her remark amusing. Indeed, Lavinia thought that Jonathan looked angry. The scar on his cheek seemed to stand out vividly.

  ‘Come then, Miss Kelvin,’ Lord Selwyn held out his hand to her as the orchestra began to play.

  ‘Jonathan, I …’ she hesitated again.

  ‘The child seems incapable of completing a sentence,’ remarked Lady Anthea.

  Lavinia turned away quickly and found herself in Lord Selwyn’s arms being led into the steps of the waltz. She did not look back but kept her eyes fastened on Lord Selwyn’s silk waistcoat, so that she would not see Jonathan waltzing with Lady Anthea.

  Lavinia remembered little more of the evening for she saw no more of Jonathan. He did not appear to claim his third dance with her. For the remainder of the evening she danced automatically, a fixed smile on her face which she prayed was convincing for the sake of her grandfather. But much later, in the privacy of her room, she was able to give way to the disappointment and she cried herself to sleep over the lost waltz with Jonathan, quite sure that this time her heart was completely broken.