“I am glad to hear it. See that they do not, and remember to come to me if you need advice. That is all I ask.”
Mother seemed satisfied, having done her duty and being reassured that her daughter was in no immediate danger of making a fool of herself over the dashing Mr. Pierce. I was equally pleased to have soothed her unwarranted fears. And I meant what I said. My growing regard for Mr. Pierce notwithstanding, I still felt in full control of my faculties.
~~*~~
The next two weeks passed most agreeably. Thanks to Mama’s conscientious supervision, my father continued his treatments at the Pump-room with impressive regularity, and followed his dietary guidelines with similar faithfulness. As a result, he steadily improved and began to feel equal to a more ambitious social schedule. Concerts, the theatre, and even an occasional ball were now within our reach.
True to my word, I remembered to speak up on behalf of Agnes, who, by her own written account, continued to languish most grievously in Wallerton for lack of society and diversion. Now that Papa was feeling so much better, his spirits had improved as well. “The more, the merrier,” he said to my surprise when I asked permission to invite Agnes to join us. I posted a letter to her forthwith.
Mr. Pierce’s behavior during this interval could not have been more effectively designed to please. His devotion knew no bounds other than what decorum and basic civility to others demanded. Miss Graham and Mr. Ramsey’s mutual fondness, though perhaps less ardent in nature, held fast as well. And since being introduced at the Grahams’ dinner party, Ramsey and Pierce had established a comfortable rapport between them. Being forced to choose between the society of my new bosom friend and that of Mr. Pierce would have been a painful proposition. Fortunately, I seldom had to sacrifice the company of one for the other since we were all four content to go about together.
Although it was now November, exploring the streets and avenues of Bath remained our preferred choice for daytime activity. Winter clothing and exercise easily overcame all but the coldest temperatures. Precipitation could be more bothersome. Whenever the appearance of the sky was arguably in our favor, though, we would set forth on the gravel walk to the Royal Crescent or for a stroll along the Avon, umbrellas in hand. On those occasions when not even the most optimistic imagination could reasonably predict a dry outing, we were forced to be content with indoor entertainments, collecting at Susan’s house, or at mine, or at the Pump-room.
On one such dreary, gray morning, Mr. Pierce called early at Pultney Street with an equally gloomy aspect. After leaving his dripping greatcoat at the door, he came up to deliver distressing news. Papa was at the Pump-room, so Mama and I received him, immediately noticing his uncharacteristically low spirits.
“Is anything the matter, Mr. Pierce?” she asked.
“I have unpleasant news, I am sorry to say, although it will doubtless hurt me far more than it does either of you. Alas, I must take temporary leave of Bath and of all my excellent friends here. My father has recalled me to Surrey; I have just received his summons. He needs me at Wildewood and then intends to send me on to London from there, to attend to some business on his behalf. Much as I am loath to quit this place where I have been so happy, I have no choice.”
“This is unlucky,” exclaimed Mama. “However, as you say, you are obliged to obey your father. I hope your absence will not be lengthy, Mr. Pierce.”
“You are too kind, Mrs. Walker. Yet I cannot tell you how long I shall be detained. I really do not know myself. It may be as little as a week or as much as a month. My father does not say, and these things are difficult to predict. I will on no account stay away a single day longer than I must,” he declared, looking intently at me for a long minute. Then, upon rousing himself, he lamented, “Of all horrid things, leave-taking is the worst.”
I had been too disheartened by his news to speak before. Finally I asked, “Must you go immediately?”
“Tomorrow.”
That dismal word heralded the end of my season of peculiar bliss, the heady days of early infatuation. At least Mr. Pierce and I were to have the benefit of one last evening together before we endured the trial of separation. Thus the ball at the Upper Rooms that night took on new significance, serving as the culmination to our first month’s acquaintance and as Mr. Pierce’s take-leave ceremony. The Grahams and Mr. Ramsey were expected to attend as well, so it would be a proper sendoff.
That night supplied all the magical delight that failed to develop at my first ball in Bath weeks before. On the earlier occasion, I had lamented the lack of a partner who could please me and be pleased by me. Now, I rejoiced in the fact that I had found one who did both. Instead of only glimpsing a handsome stranger across the room as I had done then, I gazed at him across the set, dance after dance, counting him as my very particular friend.
Mr. Pierce escorted me to the dance floor once again after the tea break, boasting glibly, “With you on my arm, Miss Walker, I daresay I am the envy of every man in this room.”
“Mr. Pierce, really! You exaggerate most alarmingly. I am sensible enough to know that there are probably dozens of girls in the room much prettier. If you would but open your eyes and look about yourself, you would see that it is true.”
“Well, perhaps I am prejudiced. Still, if the men are not envious, it is only because they do not know you as I do. Your beauty they can judge for themselves, but your other charms may not be so readily apparent. How can anyone who has never had the pleasure of speaking to you know the melodic tones of your voice, for instance? How can he be expected to appreciate your clever wit?”
“Yes, I believe you are prejudiced in my favor, Mr. Pierce, possibly to the point of blindness,” I said, pleased nonetheless. “No one else has yet discovered me half so amiable. Unfortunately, now that you have spoilt me with this sort of high praise, I am bound to grow quite desolate when I am once again deprived of it.”
As we reached our places on the floor, he pressed my hand and whispered in my ear, “Henceforth, you need never be without my praise and adoration, Miss Walker.”
In that instant, Mr. Pierce had exchanged his light, flirtatious tone for one quite serious. When I faced him across the set, I found his look equally earnest. His statement was tantamount to a declaration of love; the words implied it and his manner confirmed it.
I could still feel his warm breath against my hair, hear his words echoing in my mind as the dance began. I barely noticed the music or saw the other couples, so fixed was my attention on Mr. Pierce, and his on me. We moved through the entire dance in a trance-like silence.
At its conclusion, Mr. Pierce continued resolutely. “Miss Walker… Jo… when I return to Bath, my father will be with me. I have written him about you, and he is most eager to make your acquaintance.”
“I shall be very pleased to meet him, sir.”
“Will you not call me Richard?”
“If you like... Richard.”
“Yes, that is much better. In fact, I quite like the sound of it,” he said with a satisfied smile.
11
Agnes Arrives
Mr. Pierce’s absence cast a pall over his friends left behind in Bath. No doubt I felt the loss most acutely, but my pain was eased by the remembrance of all that had passed between us at the ball before his departure. He left me in little doubt of his intentions and wishes. My own feelings were more difficult to define. I could no longer deny being completely enamored with him. He charmed and fascinated me beyond anyone I had hitherto encountered, and my preoccupation with him defied my own reason. But was that love? Since mental confusion is said to be one of the most promising symptoms of the disease, I decided it was perhaps just as well that Richard had gone away, so that I could ponder the question in solitude.
My isolation lasted but two days before Miss Pittman made her entrance onto the scene. We were all three at home to receive Agnes and her unavoidable effusions of happiness. She declared Bath the most charming place she had ever seen, and her kind hosts the
most obliging creatures in the world for enabling her to visit it, thereby securing her felicity and her eternal gratitude. My parents accepted this extravagant praise with grace and relative composure.
Agnes and I demonstrated less restraint. After such a protracted separation, we required fully ten minutes to reaffirm our mutual affection before the flood could be stemmed and our sensations returned to tolerable good order. When this unbecoming display proved too tiresome for my father’s nerves to bear, he gave us leave to continue the reunion in private.
“I am so grateful for your invitation, my dearest friend,” Agnes resumed after we retreated to my own chamber. “I shall be forever in your debt for taking me away from dreary old Wallerton to such a fresh, exciting place. I can hardly wait to see the famous Pump-room and to meet all your friends! Your last letter was full of hints of some new development but very little solid information. What a tease you are! Now, do not keep me in suspense any longer; tell me your news. What has happened?”
For a moment, I held back, anticipating with pleasure what the effect would be of the intelligence I had to share with Agnes. Then, at her insistence, I confessed. “I do have news that will surely surprise you, Agnes, for indeed it has astonished me exceedingly. You see, I have a suitor – Mr. Richard Pierce, from Surrey. He has been courting me these four weeks.”
Agnes squealed with delight, and then demanded a thorough description of the gentleman’s person, situation, and manners, along with a detailed account of all events leading up to the present. I gladly obliged her with an exhaustive report on the amiable Mr. Pierce and his solicitous behavior toward me, including the current state of affairs between us.
“You imposter; I have found you out. ‘Just a bit of sport,’ you boasted before you went away, as if you were somehow immune to the attractions of the male sex. Now look at you – blushing at the very mention of Mr. Pierce’s name. You are no different, after all. It only took the right man to teach you to know yourself.”
“I daresay you are right, Agnes. I am quite embarrassed to remember what I said then. What arrogance to think I could play with fire and not be touched by it. Mr. Pierce has opened my eyes.”
“Do you really think he means to make you an offer?”
“I can scarce believe it myself. Yet can there be any other interpretation of what he said to me at the ball? I think he is only waiting on his father’s approval.”
“And he knows nothing of your inheritance?”
“No. He must presume that I have a dowry appropriate to my station, although he has never asked and I have given him no reason to hope for more.”
“So, it is just as you desired. But you have not said how you will answer Mr. Pierce. Do you wish to marry him?”
“My father considers it an eligible match,” I hedged.
“I should think so! To be the mistress of a fine estate instead of a curate’s wife; that is a vast improvement. You are to be congratulated, my dear.”
“For my part, the decision has nothing to do with rank. Had I loved Mr. Summeride, I would have accepted him at once, regardless of his lowly state. But as you know, I have sworn never to marry anyone without benefit of love.”
“Then the only question that remains is do you love Mr. Pierce?”
“’Tis a difficult thing to answer with certainty. I admit that I like him very much. He excites and interests me more than anyone with whom I have ever been in company. I think most probably I am in love with him. That is, I believe I must be. Oh, I cannot seem to think straight where Richard is concerned.”
“My dear Jo, many people consider that the most positive proof of love.”
“I hope not, Agnes. I should be sorry to discover that I must surrender my reason in proof of my affection. In any case, I do not have to decide the matter this minute, which is clearly just as well. Now, as we are speaking of affairs of the heart, it is only right that you should have your turn. What do you hear from Arthur?”
“Arthur?” she snorted. “You should know better than to class him with your Mr. Pierce. Arthur is no romantic hero.”
“What? Surely there is no finer man in all the world.”
“Do not mistake me. I quite agree with you, Jo. I am dotingly fond of the dear boy. And I do not require grand passion. It will be enough for me to marry a gentleman of some prestige with a handsome income, which Arthur shall be when he is well established in his career with a sizable living in hand, or better still, more than one. You know how he excels at all things academic and moral. Barring any serious scandal, he is sure to make bishop someday. The Right Reverend Arthur K. Evensong: how well that sounds! I should much rather he had a real title, of course, but I intend to be satisfied with being wife to a bishop. No, all Arthur’s other merits aside, I only meant to say that he is not particularly romantic, not as you describe your Mr. Pierce – dashing to rescue your umbrella, contriving ways to meet you, wooing you so persistently, and saying exactly what a girl desires to hear.”
“Naturally, I am in no position to judge; Arthur would hardly show his most tender side to me. I thought perhaps with you, however…”
“You suppose wrongly if you imagine him more demonstrative in private. It is simply not in his nature.”
“A minor shortcoming, you must admit.”
“Yes, and one that I am perfectly willing to accept considering his other advantages. I thoroughly intend that he will make me an excellent husband one day, just as my father and his arranged together years ago.”
~~*~~
I wasted no time fulfilling Agnes’s wish to become immediately familiar with the people and places of Bath. The very next morning, we began by attending the Pump-room, to there parade up and down with the rest of the company – a ritual by now common enough to me but irresistibly novel to my friend. The exercise served the additional purpose of introducing Agnes to nearly all our acquaintance currently in town. As luck would have it, the Grahams arrived shortly after we did, enabling Agnes to meet the family about whom she already knew a great deal from my information. Susan joined us, and ten minutes later Mr. Ramsey appeared, undoubtedly by design. He took up his usual place at Miss Graham’s side and was introduced to the newcomer. After the customary civilities, he and Susan broke away to navigate their own course through the room.
As Agnes and I drifted about in the circulating sea of humanity, I soon became sensible of the effect my pretty friend was having on the members of the opposite sex. They had directly detected the presence of an attractive new prospect in their midst, and they apparently could not help but admire her beauty to the temporary exclusion of all other considerations. I was hardly surprised at this reaction; I had seen it a dozen times before. Heads always turned when Agnes entered a room.
Their resolute interest in Miss Pittman notwithstanding, the majority of the poor, simple fellows could do no more than look; it was not within their power to procure an introduction. There was one exception, however. Mr. Cox, on the strength of his prior acquaintance with me from the dance some weeks earlier, approached.
“Miss Walker, I am very pleased to see you again. How do you do?” Though he addressed me, his eyes were fixed steadfastly on Agnes.
“Very well, I assure you, Mr. Cox.”
Undoubtedly expecting the coveted introduction to come next, he waited and continued gazing at Agnes.
I was suddenly struck by an irresistible impulse to toy with him a bit first, so I insisted on hearing his considered opinion of the current break in the rain, and on the prospect for the weather continuing fair. Then, when I had delayed as long as I decently could, I gave him what he wanted. “Oh, I do beg your pardon, sir. Where are my manners? You will think me very badly brought up, I fear. Allow me to present my good friend Miss Pittman. Agnes, this is Mr. Cox.”
The lady curtsied and the gentleman complimented her with a deep bow. “I am honored to make your acquaintance, Miss Pittman. Have you been long in Bath?”
“No, sir, I arrived only yesterday.”
>
“Ah, then you are yet to discover all the place has to offer. There is much to amuse a refined young lady such as yourself – so much to entertain.”
Mr. Cox made it his business to act as our escort for the duration of our time at the Pump-room that day. On no account could he be persuaded to leave us unprotected and friendless in such a crowd. When he at last returned us to the safety of my father’s care, he left Agnes with this parting thought:
“I hope you will allow me to be of some small service to you during your stay here, Miss Pittman. I should be only too happy to show you the sights – and Miss Walker as well, of course – at any time you wish. Perhaps I might be permitted to call on you in a day or two.”
Given leave to do so, Mr. Cox reluctantly bid us farewell.
We left the Pump-room behind and turned toward home on High Street. Papa, who was in rare form, asked after Miss Pittman’s first impressions of Bath, and received a very favorable report. He then proceeded to expound on his own opinions of the place after a considerably more lengthy exposure.
“I must tell you, Miss Pittman, that when my wife and daughter first proposed this trip, I was less than enthusiastic. I did not think such a place would suit me at all, but I have since been converted. I find that a change of scene and society is just the thing; it gives new strength to the body and revives the spirit most remarkably. I feel like a new man.”
“Papa has been a model patient, and you see how much improved he is.” As if to emphasize the point, my father added a little spring to his step.
“Yes. You seem quite recovered, Mr. Walker,” agreed Agnes.
“Indeed, I am. Indeed, I am. Dr. Oliver says that two or three weeks more should do the trick. I shall be right as rain by then and ready to return home. Still, other considerations may detain us. We are in no great hurry to quit Bath, are we, Jo?”
“No, Papa. We certainly are not.”
~~*~~
For Myself Alone: A Jane Austen Inspired Novel Page 7