And then I look at Thomas and forget everything else. Wouldn’t it be lovely to finish the evening in each other’s arms and then to go out into the moonlit night and drive away, just the two of us? I think this, but I dare not say it.
Now the first dance is over. People are moving in every direction. Some crowd around the fireplaces, others meekly return to their chaperones, others like Jane stand talking and laughing with their escorts. Suddenly Thomas bends down, kisses my hand and whispers, ‘Have you got the forget-me-nots safe?’ I whisper,’Yes,’ but I dare not tell him that I have tucked the pressed flowers into my stays! Jane sees Newton and calls across to him. Phylly, who is talking with some gentleman by the fireplace, cannot restrain herself from saying, ‘Jane!’ sharply, and everyone looks at Jane, who laughs.
And in this moment of confusion, when no eyes are upon us, Thomas leans down and kisses my hand – his gaze never leaving mine. Even through the silk of my glove I can feel the warmth of his lips and it takes all my strength not to fall into his arms.
Jane is telling Newton all about her cousin Phylly.
‘And then she put on this hat and stood on her toes and peered into the mirror in the shop and she gave this little chirping sound and said, "Oh, fancy me! How pretty!" She was just like a little parrot in a cage! I could have died laughing!’
Newton laughs heartily, though with a slightly guilty look around, to make sure that Phylly has moved away. But she is talking earnestly to Harry, so Jane and Newton start exchanging jokes about her and about parrots. I am just thinking of asking Thomas whether we should join them, when I notice an elderly gentleman in naval uniform staring at me. He sees that I have seen him, but he does not smile nor move towards us. He has a rather disagreeable face, I think.
‘My uncle!’ exclaims Thomas. ‘He must have got my letter and followed me to Bath. Wait for me,’ he says abruptly. He takes me over to Jane and then crosses back across the room towards the gentleman in uniform. They talk while I watch anxiously. The man in uniform takes a folded letter from his pocket, holds it up rather threateningly towards Thomas and then speaks vigorously, tapping the letter against Thomas’s chest as if to emphasize his point. Thomas faces him with a hard look, saying nothing, just bowing slightly from time to time. Jane speaks to me, but I don’t reply. I am watching intently.
They have finished talking now and Thomas is leading him towards me, threading his way through the throngs of people laughing and talking happily.
‘May I introduce my uncle to you, Jenny?’ asks Thomas. His voice has the crisp, assured note that I am now beginning to recognize means battle. He takes me by the arm and I drop a curtsy to his uncle – very splendidly attired in the full uniform of an admiral of the fleet. ‘I didn’t know that he was in Bath, Jenny,’ he says in my ear.
‘Miss Cooper, this is my uncle, Admiral Williams. Sir, I have the honour of presenting Miss Cooper.’
The admiral bows stiffly and I curtsy again wordlessly, thanking my lucky stars that Jane and I had been practising our curtsy earlier in front of the splendid looking glass in our bedroom. He does not speak to me, but addresses Thomas in a brusque tone, ‘Your sister, sir, was without a partner for that dance. She is standing over there with that fool of a governess that you engaged for her. She’s too young for this sort of affair. She would be better off in school. Anyway, Bath is not what it was in my young day. Where is the master of ceremonies? It’s his business to find partners for young ladies and gentlemen.’
Thomas is calmly saying something about Mr King, the master of ceremonies, but his uncle cuts him short and orders him to fetch his sister.
Now I am alone with the admiral and I stare at him wordlessly, wondering whether I should say something as he looks me up and down, as if mentally assessing the cost of my muslin gown and my white cotton gloves. I am on the point of asking him whether he is enjoying Bath when I hear a voice behind me, a familiar voice with the Hampshire burr in it.
‘And she’s a lovely little dog, that black pointer of mine. I could give you one of the puppies when she has them in June.’
There can be only one man in Bath who would be discussing black pointer dogs at a ball so I swing round quickly as Jane says thoughtfully:
‘I quite fancy myself in a shooting jacket. Dearest Harry, could you get one of those for me, also?’
And then she dropped a neat curtsy right before the astonished admiral.
‘Jane, this is Thomas’s uncle, Admiral Williams. My cousin, Miss Jane Austen. And this is Mr Harry Digweed of Steventon Manor,’ I say.
Admiral Williams bows to Jane and then nods at Harry. He stares intently at me. I get the feeling that he does not think much of me. A tall, thin, kind-looking woman comes up, followed by Thomas. A blonde girl is clinging to his arm, looking up at him with adoring eyes.
Thomas smiles down at her and then, taking no notice of the admiral, says, ‘Jenny, I’d like you to meet my sister Elinor. Elinor, I’ve told you about Jenny.’
I smile at Elinor, but she does not smile back. She moves even closer to Thomas, squeezing herself up against him and looking up at him as if she is about ten years old. My heart sinks. I had hoped that we would be friends, but she is now eyeing me with an air of dislike. I wonder whether she is jealous of Thomas’s interest in me. I suppose since their parents died when Elinor was very young, she has got used to thinking of Thomas as her property. Neither she nor the admiral seems anxious to welcome me as a new member of the family.
I try to keep a smile on my face. I so want her to like me, for us to be like sisters. Elinor is a pretty girl, a little younger than me, I think – very pale, very thin – even her blonde hair is pale. Thomas has his arm around her now and is smiling down at her, his little sister. I find myself feeling slightly irritated. After all, she is not that young!
And then I look at the admiral who is still glaring at me critically. He glances up at the balcony where the orchestra are beginning to tune their instruments.
‘My dear,’ he says to Elinor, ‘I think if you look at your card you will see that the next dance has been given to Sir Walter.’ He looks at the governess and abruptly tells her to escort her charge. Then he says, ‘Perhaps, Miss Cooper, you will do me the honour of dancing this with an old man. Thomas, the Honourable Clotilde Wallop is here. You should ask her to dance. It was very kind of the Earl to put you up when you were in Hampshire. Come with me – I must greet her also. Excuse us for a moment, Miss Cooper.’
Thomas gives me an apologetic look and I try to smile cheerfully.
And now Thomas is bowing before Clotilde, the eldest sister of Newton Wallop. She is beautifully dressed in a flowing gown of gold silk embroidered with gold thread. As the daughter of the Earl of Portsmouth she will have a huge dowry. When the admiral makes his way back to me the look of satisfaction on his face is sickening.
‘And your family comes from Bristol?’ he says to me when we reach the bottom of the line and have the opportunity to talk to each other.
I nod silently.
‘And your father, is he a . . . merchant?’ He pauses before the word ‘merchant’. I’m not sure whether he is pleased at the idea – after all, most merchants in Bristol are rich – or whether he thinks I am under-bred, but I tell him briefly that my father is dead, but that he used to be a clergyman. This makes him look as though some bad smell has reached his nose. I see Jane laughing with Newton and I envy them their easy companionship. They are sharpening their wits on each other and whispering in each other’s ears.
‘Good, good,’ says the admiral, but the tone of his voice says, Bad, bad. ‘And where did you meet my nephew?’
‘At Basingstoke Assembly Rooms; my cousin Frank Austen introduced us,’ I say. I feel my face flush guiltily. What would he say if he knew that we had met at midnight on the streets of Portsmouth?
Thomas and Newton’s sister seem to be getting on very well. Of course he knows her – they were probably great friends when he stayed at their house not lo
ng ago. He is laughing at something Clotilde says, throwing his head back, the candlelight shining on his black hair. I gaze at it, wishing I was in his arms. Then I realize that the admiral has asked a question, so I apologize.
‘I just asked whether you are enjoying Bath.’ He sounds annoyed and I drag my eyes away from Thomas and tell him that I love Bath. I try to be enthusiastic about the Assembly Rooms, but he just nods in a bored way and then I fall silent. He asks me whether I have had a season in London and I am so taken aback that I blurt out the fact that my family could never afford something like that for me. He raises his eyebrows and greets an old acquaintance over my shoulder, but says no more to me, and I can’t think of anything else to say.
When the dance finishes, I curtsy to him and he allows me to make my own way over to where my two aunts are sitting with Phylly perched on the bench below them. He doesn’t think that I am worth paying any more attention to. I am acutely miserable and feel that I should have tried harder to impress him.
‘Who is that?’ Aunt Leigh-Perrot is staring at the admiral.
‘Admiral Williams, Aunt,’ I say. ‘Where’s Eliza?’
‘Dancing with a Frenchman,’ says Mrs Austen. ‘Is that the uncle of Captain Thomas, then?’
I nod; she looks interested, but I think I have made rather a mess of it. Harry and Jane come up at that moment. Harry very nicely asks Phylly to dance and she bounces up from the seat and looks triumphantly at Jane.
And then Newton comes to claim Jane once again and I am still waiting, scanning the crowd, looking for Thomas. Now he is talking with another lady. He knows so many people here at Bath.
I can see Newton’s sister deep in conversation with Elinor – they are laughing and talking as though the best of friends. And now the music begins.
Then Thomas comes to claim me and everything is wonderful again. I decide not to think about relations. My brother and sister-in-law don’t like Thomas, and his uncle and sister don’t seem to like me. I’ll worry about it tomorrow, I tell myself.
Evening has come and the windows at the top of the walls have turned dark – they are like black mirrors, and the reflections of the five chandeliers sparkle in their panes. The fires burn with a red glow, but the crowd is so thick that I have a feeling that we are in our own little bubble of light.
‘I have written to your brother,’ says Thomas softly in my ear. ‘I am going to see him tomorrow. I shall set off first thing in the morning and be back in Bath by evening.’
And then he is gone, crossing hands with Phylly while Harry twirls me around and I skip neatly under our clasped hands.
‘You’re a good dancer, Harry,’ I say, and he smiles.
‘Thanks to Mrs Austen! She wouldn’t let any boy get away with doing it clumsily. We boys, the four of us, had such fun at the parsonage in the winter evenings. My father and mother aren’t too sociable, and the old manor house is a terrible tumbledown old ruin – old as the great King Henry VIII, they say – but there was always a welcome for us at the Austens’.’
And then Thomas was back and he and I went down the line. Jane, I notice, is chattering happily with Newton Wallop and both of them are laughing again. I look to see if Lavinia is dancing, but she isn’t – just standing beside her mama, fanning herself so vigorously that no one can see her face. Phylly comes up to her and starts chatting. They both look across at Jane. I turn back to Thomas and blush when I see the look in his eyes.
‘What are you going to say to Edward-John?’ I ask when we reach the end of the room.
‘I will make him see reason,’ he says airily, and then he frowns. ‘Why on earth does my uncle allow Elinor to dance with Sir Walter Montmorency?’ He spits the words out through clenched teeth. His expression is dark and stormy. ‘I don’t care for that fellow; I’ve heard some stories about him, some scandal...’ He looks down at me and seems to decide to say no more.
‘He looks very charming,’ I say. I must confess that I don’t want to talk about Elinor. ‘Anyway, your uncle seems to like him.’
Thomas shakes his head. ‘I don’t trust my uncle,’ he says. ‘He’d like to make a splendid match for Elinor – she’s barely sixteen, too young to be thinking of getting married. She’s young for her age,’ he adds hastily as he sees me smile. ‘She’s scared of the admiral though, and she’ll do anything to please him. The trouble is that he can’t resist telling everyone that she will have a dowry of twenty thousand pounds from him when she marries with his approval.’
‘What about you?’ I ask anxiously. ‘Do you have to get his approval before you marry?’
Thomas shrugs. ‘He can keep his money, as far as I am concerned. I want to choose my own bride.’
He hasn’t said no, I notice. I want to ask him whether he will forgo any fortune from his uncle if he marries me, but he is looking across at his sister again. His face softens as he watches her. ‘It’s different for poor little Elinor. She’s a child that craves approval. She can’t stand up for herself.’ He looks down at me and says, ‘Will you try to keep an eye on her for me, Jenny? Perhaps you and your cousin could befriend her. She is very shy and timid. It would do her good to have some girls of her own age to have fun with. She’s a funny girl; I can’t make her out. She’s always trying to please, and it makes her seem scared stiff half the time. It’s as if she has no mind of her own. She shouldn’t be thinking of marriage for another few years.’
I smile to myself when I think how Thomas asked me to marry him although I am not much older than his sister. Privately I’m not sure that his view of Elinor as a sweet little child is quite accurate. There was something rather spiteful in the way that she looked at me and she definitely seemed to be gossiping about me to Newton’s sister. However, I promise him that Jane and I will do our best to be friendly.
I look thoughtfully over at Elinor. She is still dancing with Sir Walter. He is a very elegantly dressed man in pale primrose-coloured breeches. His hair is rather long, but it suits him. He has a very handsome face, almost as though he is a carved statue. I wonder what the scandal was, but guess that Thomas won’t tell me. Elinor is looking up at him timidly, her uncle watching her with a smirk on his face. Obviously he approves of her partner!
And then Thomas dances down the line and I wait, marking time. I see Elinor glance over at me. A look of dislike crosses her face. She stands on tiptoe, her mouth at Sir Walter’s ear. He looks across at me and doesn’t lower his voice.
‘A country parson, no breeding, no family, no fortune? What can your brother be thinking?’
My heart sinks.
And then Thomas is back and together we dance to the end of the line. Now we will wait here until our time comes to dance again. I decide that I won’t tell him about Sir Walter’s words. I don’t want to cause any bad feeling, and I still hope that Elinor and I might be friends eventually.
While we mark time Thomas starts to tell me about his home on the Isle of Wight and how his house is near to his uncle’s, and both of them overlook the sea but Thomas’s house has a woodland to the back of it.
‘If only I didn’t have this trip to the East Indies,’ he says, ‘and if only you could come and visit in May. The beech woods are full of bluebells then. I’d love to see you standing there among them – just you and the carpet of blue and green. It would make such a beautiful picture. Your eyes are the exact shade of the bluebells.’
And now the bell goes for supper. Everyone is streaming through the door leading to the Octagon Room. The card players are coming in from the card room. Elinor and her governess are just ahead of us and the admiral pushes his way past us to join them. There is no sign of Sir Walter Montmorency now, and the admiral looks angry. Colonel Forster comes up to ask Jane for the after-supper dance, and she writes his name on her little dance card. I see Lavinia glare at Jane and whisper to a girl sitting next to her. I do hope Jane is not getting herself a reputation in Bath! And then we have reached the opposite side of the Octagon Room and manage to enter the tea room
. The room is almost as beautiful as the ballroom, the walls a delicate shade of salmon pink and the three fairy-tale chandeliers lighting up the dozens of circular tables spread with snowy-white linen cloths. At the top of the room there is a row of white marble arches and beyond a long table spread with the most delicious food: sweetmeats, jelly, biscuits, cold ham, turkey and many other wonderful things.
‘Oh la,’ says Jane from behind us. She is with Harry now and I am touched to see how happy he looks. I’m glad I thought of suggesting that he come to the Assembly Rooms.
Jane seizes me by the hand. ‘Let’s join Eliza,’ she says rapidly. ‘The tables are just for six so that will save us making conversation with my mother and my aunt and uncle – not to mention dear Phylly!’
Eliza and her escort are already sitting at a table just next to one of the four fireplaces. She is smiling and waving so I follow Jane while Thomas and Harry go to get a tray of food and cups of tea for us.
‘Jenny,’ says Eliza softly, ‘your dear uncle, Mr Leigh-Perrot... who is his heir?’
I look at her in astonishment and she laughs. ‘You don’t think of these things at your age, ma chérie, but they are important, nonetheless. There are no children and will never be, so the fortune – and it is a considerable one if you add Mrs Leigh-Perrot’s to her husband’s – well, it will doubtless be left to one of the family – perhaps one of his nephews.’
‘To Jane’s eldest brother?’
‘Or to Edward-John,’ says Eliza. ‘Don’t think your brother won’t have thought of this. Let’s make sure that Mrs Leigh-Perrot is in favour of your marriage to Captain Williams.’
Jane Austen Stole My Boyfriend Page 8