My Dear Charlotte

by Hazel Holt

  As I mentioned in my last letter, I was eager to see in what manner Mr Russell and Miss West conducted themselves. Miss West – in blue crape with ribbon trimmings – and her mother arrived first. I saw Mrs West casting glances round the room as if searching for someone, and, when Mr Russell arrived with his cousin, she said something to her daughter (which alas I could not hear) that caused her to look annoyed, but another word from her mother appeared to subdue her.

  Upon Captain Tilson asking her to dance she accepted, slightly reluctantly though her mother nodded approval. I observed, however, that, in the course of the dance. Miss West glanced quite often towards that part of the room where Mr Russell was in conversation with Mrs Holder. Since he was not dancing he had every excuse for not approaching Miss West – he did bow as he passed them on the way to speak to Mr Holder, but that was all. Mr Rivers, on the other hand, was most attentive. I think I told you that he was previously much struck with Miss West and, certainly, appeared determined to pursue the acquaintance. To my surprise Mrs West seemed positively to encourage the attention. Perhaps she hopes to make Mr Russell so jealous as to bring him to the point. Whatever her reason I cannot but be sorry for Mr Rivers since there is no likelihood of Mrs West’s taking the lesser prize for her daughter.

  I could not follow Mr Rivers’ progress since young Tom Chamberlyne, at home from Oxford, asked me to dance and, in all conscience, I couldn’t bring myself to hurt his feelings by refusing him, though it meant taking my eye off the drama. When I had returned to my place Mrs West had departed into the card room and Miss West was dancing with one of the sons of Mr and Mrs Cooke who, you may remember, have an estate near Axminster.

  In spite of his declared wish to renew his acquaintance with his friends at Lyme, Mr Russell did not stay long – we had a brief conversation about very little – and went away quite soon, taking his cousin with him. I noticed, as they left, that Mr Rivers looked wistfully at Miss West, dancing with one of Captain Tilson’s brother officers, whose name I do not know, as if he would like to have stayed. However, he dutifully followed his cousin home.

  Poor Miss Craven and her mama must have been sadly disappointed. Without Mrs Woodstock’s eye upon him, Mr Russell exchanged the merest civilities with them and made his escape as soon as he decently could. But Miss Craven may still find a husband. She is, for the most part, silent and not ill-looking if one can overlook her freckles, and I am sure that may easily be done by contemplation of her fortune, so I shall not feel sorry for her.

  So it would appear that Mr Russell has not yet broached the subject of his engagement (if such it be) to his uncle. I suppose he feels it is too soon after his aunt’s death and he may not yet be sure of his inheritance. Also the circumstances of the death being what they are, he would not wish it to be known that there was any reason he wished his aunt ill. There, I have given you a motive! though I am sure we are already agreed that Mr Russell is the most likely person to have benefited from his aunt’s death.

  You must tell Robert that our father gives 25s. apiece to Seward for his last lot of sheep, and in return for this news, our father wishes to receive news of Robert’s pigs. He was interested to learn that farmer Claringbould had died and that Robert means to get some of his farm. Please let him know how this plan progresses.

  I forgot to say that the evening was cool enough for me to wear my new muslin shawl which gave me great satisfaction though no-one remarked upon it.

  Your affectionate sister,

  E.C.

  30th August

  My Dear Charlotte,

  Your letter has brought its usual measure of satisfaction and amusement. Your offer of cravats is very kind, and happens to be particularly adapted to my wants, but it was an odd thing to occur to you.

  Yesterday brought a visit from Sir Edward to our father who invited him to remain to dine with us. I am sure our mother was relieved that we had planned a respectable saddle of mutton for today, which Cook roasted to perfection. Had he come yesterday he would have had to suffer one of my experiments, viz: ox cheek with dumplings – excellent fare to be sure but not to be offered to Sir Edward Hampton of Marshwood Abbey. Our mother took the opportunity of demanding of Sir Edward what progress he had made in his investigation and was anxious to be assured that Dr King could in no wise be held in any way responsible for what might or might not have happened.

  “I do believe,” he said, “that Dr King did all that might be expected of him. Since I believe Mrs Woodstock had always complained of ill health there can hardly have been a suspicion that her death was anything but natural.”

  “I imagine,” our father said “that Dr King, above all others, was aware that Mrs Woodstock’s illnesses were usually a means of getting her own way and did not indicate any disease or a less than robust constitution.”

  Sir Edward was silent for a moment and then he said with a sigh “Indeed, sir, this brings home what a disadvantage it is to me to be obliged to pursue this matter having but recently come into the county. I have no knowledge of the people concerned or what might be the reason for this crime – if, indeed, crime there be.”

  Our mother, divided between a desire to protect Dr King from any imputation of negligence in not remarking upon the cause of Mrs Woodstock’s death and the pleasure of having a real mystery upon our very doorstep, ventured to remark that there may well have been several persons who might have benefited from her death.

  Sir Edward said “That may be true. Indeed, it must be unusual to find any death about which this might not be said.”

  Our mother, who, as you know, takes no account of satirical remarks, continued, “Well, have you considered James Russell? He has a great deal to gain by his aunt’s death.”

  “Indeed? I was not aware that he was her heir.”

  “Mrs Woodstock made him an allowance that let him live in London in great style, but she kept him on a very tight rein – he was always at her beck and call. But now she is gone he can bring his uncle round to do whatever he pleases.”

  Our father, displeased at the turn the conversation had taken, interrupted to ask Sir Edward about the prospects for the coming season’s shooting and no more was said about it. However, I saw that Sir Edward appeared to take note of what our mother had said and will presumably consider it.

  Later when the tray came in and our mother was pouring the tea and when our father had gone to find some documents he wanted our guest to see, Sir Edward thanked me for the treat I had given his boys.

  “It was my pleasure, sir. It gave me the excuse to indulge in a pastime that has long been a favourite in this family.”

  “George tells me that there are even finer specimens at Charmouth.”

  “Certainly there are – the cliffs there are more extensive than at Lyme and so there is a greater variety.”

  “You are well informed, Miss Cowper,” he said.

  “As I said, sir, it has long been a family pastime.”

  “Then perhaps it might be agreeable to you to accompany my sons there on another expedition?”

  “I would be very happy to do so, sir, but I fear we must wait a while for the opportunity. It is still a busy time of the year and my father requires the horses for the farm.”

  “I would not dream of putting your father to that inconvenience and would of course send my carriage to convey you if you will let me know which day will suit you.”

  “That would be most kind of you, sir.”

  “On the contrary, the kindness is all on your side Miss Cowper.”

  “I can assure you that I will take as much pleasure as the boys may in such an expedition.”

  Our mother, who had caught my reference to the boys, broke in with praise of them, commenting on their liveliness and intelligence. “George puts me in mind of William at that age,” she said, “and John has much of Frank’s enquiring mind, wanting to know the why and wherefore of everything.”

  “I trust, ma’am that they were not troublesome to you.”

&
nbsp; “Oh no, it is delightful to see high spirits in boys of their age – it was a great pleasure to see them.”

  “I fear they have now outgrown their governess and I am glad that they will be soon gone to school. Meanwhile I am most grateful to Miss Cowper for her interest in them and for the time she has given to their entertainment.”

  “Oh Elinor always liked scrambling about among the rocks with her brothers; Charlotte did not care for it.”

  And, indeed, dear Charlotte I remember many lectures you gave me about my unladylike behaviour, when I walked back through the town with my petticoats muddy and bedraggled from searching for fossils when the tide had just gone out, which Frank always said was a splendid time to find them.

  Our father coming back into the room, the conversation turned to a certain boundary dispute he was concerned about for one of his tenants. However, before he left, Sir Edward arranged to send his carriage next Tuesday if the weather should be fine.

  Mrs Holder’s niece, Miss Porter, is recently come into the neighbourhood but is not much admired; the good-natured world, as usual, extolled her beauty so highly, that all of Lyme have had the pleasure of being disappointed

  I called yesterday on old Betty, who inquired particularly after you, and said she seemed to miss you very much because you used to call on her very often. This was an oblique reproach to me, which I am sorry to have merited, and from which I will profit.

  I am quite angry with myself for not writing closer; why is my alphabet so much more sprawly than yours?

  Yours affectionately,

  E.C.

  4th September

  My Dear Charlotte,

  We were glad to hear that Mary’s new nurse is come but sorry to hear that Mary thinks she has no particular charm either of person or manner; but as all the neighbourhood pronounces her to be the best nurse that ever was and since Mary is finding the baby fretful and tiring, I expect her attachment to increase.

  Sir Edward’s carriage duly arrived, but with Sir Edward in it. I had expected only the boys and their governess and was greatly surprised by this addition to the party.

  “I trust you will not object,” he said observing this, “to another member of the expedition, but George was anxious that I should see for myself the wonders of the shore that you have revealed to them. He did even offer to let me have the use of the small hammer which you were so kind as to lend him.”

  “You are most welcome, sir,” I said. Indeed I could hardly say otherwise since he had provided the carriage.

  Our journey to Charmouth was enlivened by eager questions from the boys as to the finds my brothers had made and where the finest specimens were to be found. Miss Blair occasionally remonstrated with them when their voices rose too loud, but, poor soul, she was constrained by the unaccustomed presence of her employer, and her faint protests were, in the main, ignored.

  On our arrival at Charmouth we left the carriage and made our way down that path, which you will remember leads down to the shore. It was a fine day, though not warm, and I was glad that I was wearing my kerseymere spenser. The boys ran on ahead with Miss Blair while we followed more sedately behind. However, once we reached the shore I was much in demand for knowing which rocks they should strike and, when they had done so, what were the names of the treasures thus revealed.

  After a while, Sir Edward, who had joined his sons among the rocks and had been fossiling with them with apparent enjoyment, rejoined me where I was in conversation with Miss Blair. “I think we may leave them to themselves for a while,” he said. “I am sure, Miss Cowper, you deserve a rest from their importunities. They will come to no harm if Miss Blair will keep an eye on them.” Miss Blair moved nearer her charges and Sir Edward continued,

  “This seems a convenient and tolerably comfortable boulder if you would be seated. I would be grateful for your advice on a certain subject.”

  As you can imagine, My Dear Charlotte, I was greatly surprised. I had assumed from his general attitude that Sir Edward has no great opinion of the female sex and could not imagine on what subject he would welcome my advice.

  “Indeed, sir, my mother and sister will assure you that I am always delighted to give my advice upon any subject, whether I am asked for it or no.”

  He gave the half smile which seems to be the furthest he is prepared to go in this respect, and said, “It concerns the fact that, as a new-comer, I have no knowledge of the people who may or may not have to do with the death of Mrs Woodstock. Therefore, I wondered if I might prevail upon the members of your family to aid me. Your father has most kindly been of invaluable assistance to me in many ways since I came into the neighbourhood and I feel he is the one person I can turn to for help in this matter. I am aware that he is naturally most reluctant to seem to be gossiping about his neighbours, but do you think he might be persuaded that it is in the interest of a legal investigation to make me acquainted with the histories and characters of persons who may be concerned?”

  “You wish help from all the members of his family, sir?”

  “Your mother, too. I am sure she is on terms with everyone involved and would, I think, be willing to pass on any opinions she might have.”

  “I am sure my mother would be delighted to help you, and, if it is put to him that it is his duty to support the law in this way, I do not believe that my father would have any objection to passing on to you his thoughts on anything arising in the course of your investigations.”

  “And you, Miss Cowper?”

  “You wish for my opinions, sir?”

  “Most certainly I do. It appears to me that you have a very keen eye for the flaws and foibles of your fellow creatures.”

  “That sounds a most disagreeable quality!”

  “No, for I believe it springs from a wish to perceive the true nature of a person. And that, you must agree, would be invaluable.”

  As you will imagine, this very odd remark took me quite by surprise so that I did not immediately reply.

  “Well, Miss Cowper,” he asked “will you help me?”

  And, of course, the temptation to be involved in our Mystery was not to be resisted, so what could I do but agree?

  Our father requires you to tell Robert that one of his Leicestershire sheep, sold to the butcher last week, weighed 27 lb. and 1/4 per quarter. I do not know precisely what this means, but no doubt Robert will understand.

  I am sure you will be interested to know how our father responds to Sir Edward’s proposal – I will do my duty and keep you fully informed.

  I do not remember if I told you that Mrs Heathcote wrote to tell us that Miss Blackford is married, but I have never seen it in the papers, and one may as well be single if the wedding is not in print.

  Your affectionate sister,

  E.C.

  9th September

  My Dear Charlotte,

  Your letter yesterday gave me some amusement, Mary’s comments being so far wide of the mark. While it is true that Sir Edward is in the comfortable possession of two estates and must, I suppose, be considered eligible, do assure her that he is not so regarded by me! A widower! and with two grown boys! Putting aside the fact that he is nearer my father’s age than mine, you must have noted that I find his manner and address on the whole stiff and lacking in ease. It is true that he unbends when he is with his children – a point in his favour certainly, but, as you know, I have always held that dullness in a man, whatever his wealth, makes him quite ineligible. It may be that our future conversations about the Woodstock mystery will lend some animation to our discourse, but even Mary could not expect an alliance to prosper with so little in common.

  I beg you will prevent Mary from putting such ideas into our mother’s head! Sir Edward already stands high in her esteem by his favourable comments on Dr King, and I have no doubt but that she will be delighted to give him the benefit of her opinion of all our acquaintance if our father does not intervene.

  You will be interested to learn that Mr Powlett gave a dance on Th
ursday, to the great disturbance of his neighbours, who, you know, take a most lively interest in the state of his finances, and live in the hope of his soon being ruined.

  I met Miss West yesterday coming out of Layton’s. She greeted me with the familiarity of an old friend and suggested we walk together along the Parade. “Since it is such a fine day and I am sure that exercise and sea air will benefit us both.” A sentiment I would agree with, but naturally resented as coming from one whose opinions on any matter I am not inclined to receive.

  “I do not believe I have seen you, Miss West, since the Assembly,” I said .

  “Indeed, I was not certain of being able to attend since I had been unwell almost up to the very day.”

  “How fortunate that you had recovered in time to attend.”

  “Oh mama made me her tincture of bark – very much superior to Huxham’s – and I recovered very rapidly.”

  “Mrs West is skilled in tinctures and draughts?”

  “Oh she was noted for her knowledge of herbs and remedies by all in Tonbridge.”

  “How very fortunate that you had such excellent remedies to hand so that you were able to attend the Assembly, though it was, I fear, very thin of company.”

  “I was most surprised. It was not very entertaining. At Tonbridge we rarely had fewer than two and thirty couple.”

  “Indeed I do not wonder you found it dull, though I am sure you did not lack for partners even though both Mr Russell and Mr Rivers were not dancing. “