Charlotte
Page 1
Copyright © 2013 Linda Phelps
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 1482021544
ISBN 13: 9781482021547
eBook ISBN: 978-1-63002-982-1
Also by Linda Phelps
Have U Seen Me?
Have U Seen Uncle Leo?
Caddie!
In memory of another Jane
Contents
Prologue
Book One
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Book Two
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Book Three
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Book Four
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Prologue
TEN YEAR OLD CHARLOTTE, the eldest of the three Lucas children, was allowed to accompany her parents to London to see her father receive his knighthood from the King himself. She stood in a gallery at Saint James, awed by the fine room, but rather bored by the ceremony itself, which was very long. Mr. William Lucas was not the only man receiving elevation this day.
Charlotte occupied herself with examinations of the women whose husbands were being similarly honoured. They had all, like her mother, dressed in their very finest clothing and sported elaborately styled hair for the ceremony. By the time the child had selected the women whose apparel she found most enviable, the installation ended in a bit of pomp, and the family, walking more proudly than was their wont, went in search of the carriage they had hired for this grand occasion.
“Well, my dear Lady Lucas, how like you your new name?” asked Charlotte’s father, once they were safely ensconced in their conveyance. He bowed to her..
“Oh, my dear Sir William,” her mother said, smiling in utter satisfaction. “To think I am now riding with a knight! And such a gallant one!” As she returned his bow, their eyes met. Charlotte, who in general spent little time in the exclusive company of her parents, watched them with interest.
“Lady Lucas,” said her father again, taking his wife’s hand.
“Sir William,” said she, blushing with pleasure.
“Why do you call Mama ‘Lady’ Lucas?” demanded the little girl.
The honour and the process which conveyed the title had been explained with clarity to Charlotte earlier, but she had been too distracted by the novelty of the streets through which they traveled to attend to what she was told. Her mother explained again. “And so your father is now known as Sir William, and I as Lady Lucas,” she said with an air of fulfillment.
The child pondered this for a moment. “Then I am Lady Charlotte!” she proclaimed. It seemed a fine reward for remembering not to fidget during the ceremony.
Her mother explained that the title did not and would not belong to the Lucas offspring.
“But I wish to be addressed as ‘Lady Charlotte,” protested the child.
“Then when you are grown, you must find a knight to marry,” said her mother.
Charlotte, after the hours she had recently spent watching various elderly, plump, grey haired men achieve the rank, faced the reality that any such person she might marry would not wear armour and ride a huge horse with velvet saddle trappings. She examined her mother’s suggestion. “Where will I find one? And when? I long to be called Lady Charlotte.”z
“When you are grown,” said her mother, “but you must wait for the knight to find you, as I have done,” Again she smiled at her husband.
Feeling rather left out, Charlotte promised herself, “My knight will be a good deal more handsome than Papa. And richer. And younger.”
Two candidates upon which to focus her fancies appeared before her in the play the family attended that night. “Lover’s Vows”, was a presentation of the Covent Garden playhouse. This was the first time Charlotte had visited a theater.. The play ruled her imagination for years to come.
First appeared Frederick, dirty and ragged, but when he risked his life for the sake of his dying mother, one realized that his clothing hid an heroic and generous spirit. .By the play’s end, when he had been acknowledged as the son of the Baron, it was simple for one to see that he would soon be clean and dressed in handsome clothes befitting his newly recognized rank.
Then there was Anhalt, a mere clergyman but how fine looking he was, and how learned! And did these qualities not win him the heart of the Baron’s daughter? She, with a forthrightness Charlotte had not expected in a beautiful, well bred young woman, spoke plainly to her long time tutor:
Amelia. What is the subject my father bids you teach me today?
Anhalt. – The count who seeks your hand. And love.
Amelia. [going up to him]. Come, then teach love to me; teach it me as you taught me geography and languages
Anhalt. [turning from her] Pshaw!
Amelia. Ah! You won’t. You know you have already taught me how to love..
Anhalt. You misconstrue everything I say or do! The subject I come to you upon was marriage.
Amelia. [Curtsying] A very proper subject from the man who has taught me love, and I accept the proposal.
Anhalt needed convincing. The two were of different ranks, he a lowly tutor, she a pampered Baron’s daughter. In time he succumbed to her endearments and determination, the lovers agreeing that they would go through life hand in hand. They were a handsome couple, especially since Amelia was costumed in the lustrous dress of a time some hundred years in the past.
Amelia’s pert behavior was a revelation. Despite the fact that Charlotte’s mother and their neighbour, Mrs. Bennet, spoke continuously on their desire and need that their daughters find husbands, neither lady had hinted to Charlotte that it was acceptable for a woman to make the offer of marriage herself. Here, on stage, the strategy seemed to work so well for Amelia that the little girl made note, should she ever have need of such a tactic
She found the befuddled Anhalt to be much less of a knightly figure than the ragged Frederick. One could imagine Frederick once he had come into his own. With better clothes and perhaps a sword and a fine horse, his superiority was unquestionable. He was the man Amelia should have chosen, had it only not been revealed that he was, in fact, her brother.
But what was it that had made Anhalt love Amelia? It was her beauty, to be sure, and her wit, and her lack of womanly modesty. Charlotte reflected briefly upon the elements that had brought her own parents to marriage. The newly promoted Lady Lucas had neither beauty nor wit, or so it seemed to Charlotte, so what had brought her to the notice of Sir William? There seemed only one answer to that question. Her mother had surely overcome her own modesty and boldly told Sir William of her attachment to him, which act had brought her to his notice to such an extent that they had married.
Ladies in novels did not commit such outrages against the accepted rituals of courtship, but novels, as Charlotte was oft
en reminded, were stories of things that had not happened. Perhaps “Lover’s Vows” was a more accurate rendering of the ways that men and women came to form a union..
Had Agatha, Frederick’s mother, suffered two decades of desperation because she had failed to make plain to the Baron her desire to marry him? It was a matter to consider.
As the family rode back to their lodging Sir William asked Charlotte if she had enjoyed the play.
“Very much, Papa. I was so afraid that Frederick would be hanged!”
“Anhalt was a handsome man,” said Lady Lucas.
“Very fit,” agreed Sir William, “as I was when younger.”
“As you still are, my dear knight,” said Lady Lucas. She placed her hand on his cheek.
Charlotte, innocent but not naïve, turned to the window of the coach and watched the dark streets of London slip by.
She promised herself, “When I next come to London, I will dress as beautifully as Amelia, although more stylishly, and I will see every play that is here, and I will meet a man named Frederick, who will ask father for my hand. And should he fail to recognize the admiration I feel for him, if some feeling of inferiority prevents him from speaking, I will tell him directly how I feel, so as to relieve and delight his heart.
It happened that Charlotte did not see London again for many years, nor did the Lucas family finances ever permit her to dress as elegantly as she wished. As her memories of the city dimmed, her imagination embellished the occasion. Particularly did the Frederick she remembered grow in gallantry and courage. It need not be said that he was very handsome.
Frederick. In this house did you rob my beloved Charlotte of her honour. I am a sacrifice for the crime. You shall accompany me to the spot of execution. You will find how I, in despair, will, to the last moment, call for retribution!
Charlotte took to reciting these words to herself, playing the gallant Frederick, the evil Baron, and the ruined Lady Charlotte in turn. She was particularly fond of a scene she had invented.
Lady Charlotte. I beseech you, Baron. You have indeed wronged me, for which evil act I forgive you, but God will surely punish you. Do not compound your sin by hanging the man I love. I am on my knees to you. Spare Frederick’s life!
Baron. Take hold of yourself, Lady Charlotte, Frederick is a poverty stricken knight who thought to attack me and rob me. He must be treated as the law ordains.
Lady Charlotte. No! No! Frederick, my only love! I cannot live if you are gone! Baron, do not hang him!
Baron. Be still! Let the law take its course.
Frederick. Farewell my most beloved Charlotte. We shall meet again perhaps in the world to come.”
Lady Charlotte. No! I can’t bear it.
Baron. You must immediately learn to bear it!
Frederick. Sir, when you turn your head from my extended corpse, you will behold Lady Charlotte, my weeping love. Need I paint how her eyes will greet you?
It little mattered that in the play Frederick had committed his capital crime for the sake of his mother, not for a beloved lady. Whatever the circumstances only the Baron’s mercy could save him from the gallows. The scene as Charlotte imagined it regularly brought her to tears.
As the months passed, and Charlotte considered the various ways an actual Sir Frederick might locate her, she found herself enjoying speaking in the voice of other players. She liked most to play a woman like Amelia, although the parts of Frederick and the Baron were part of the repertoire. These three and several players with only a few lines, popped on and off the stage of her imagination. She added a rival for Frederick’s hand to the cast, and then a besotted suitor of Lady Charlotte who kidnapped her. Charlotte spoke for each of them in the ever more elaborate adventures of the lovers. Frederick and Amelia found the road to their happy ending blocked, not only by the Baron and evil rivals but occasionally by floods and earthquakes.
She took care to be solitary when telling herself these stories. She understood perfectly that anyone, such as a younger brother, catching her in such activities, would tease her without mercy.
On a few occasions Charlotte imagined the lovers to be married, having brought them to the required denouement, but their subsequent lives together were uninteresting. Even the little girl’s lively fancies could not give married life the suspense needed for theater.
Soon Charlotte made a decision. She would become an actress! She would wear beautiful gowns and live in London. The child spent hours when she appeared to be attending to other things fancying herself in front of an audience. Accordingly she practiced her facial expressions, movements, and intonations any time she had leisure. With such dedication to her craft, she developed that most important ability of a performer, the ability to see herself as others might see her.
To be sure, her mother finally detected Charlotte’s plans. She was not by nature a quiet child. She was, in fact, sometimes punished for her failure to remain silent. The little girl tried to hide her fancies, but without knowing she had done so, she began to speak in the voices of her characters. As Amelia, she spoke in tones of sweetness, as Frederick, in a deep voice.
Lesser characters often spoke with an accent that was certainly not native to Hertfordshire, Eventually Lady Lucas took her to task and forced her to reveal her secret.
“,Mama, I am practicing to be an actress, like Amelia in “Lovers Vows”.
“An actress?” exclaimed Lady Lucas, with much the same tone she would have used had Charlotte expressed a desire to become a swineherd. “An actress!” and she explained to the child why that was impossible. Charlotte’s reputation, nay, the reputation of every Lucas would be destroyed by such decadence. “But you are young, my dear. Think of finding a good husband who will care for you and be father to your children. That’s what little girls should dream about.”
“But wives do not inspire applause,” cried Charlotte. “Husbands do not stand and clap their hands and shout ‘Brava!’ to honour wives.”
, Charlotte had gained personal knowledge of this husbandly indifference by observation of her father and a neighbour, Mr. Bennet, neither of whom was the least likely to express admiration for his wife in public.
“There are benefits to marriage much greater than applause,” said Lady Lucas. “For one, you might some day have a fine daughter such as I have,” and she gave the little girl a kiss
An intelligent child, Charlotte was able to recognize that practicality must take precedence over fancy, if only for the benefit of those her might watch her She did not stop her play acting, but she did make sure that she was not again detected in that activity. With a sigh, she relegated dreams of applause to the realm of faeries and other outgrown childhood fancies. In obedience to her mother, she transformed her fantasies into tales of courtship and marriage.
Hertfordshire was not fertile ground for such imaginings. Although marriages occurred regularly, they were not the food that nourishes ideas of romantic love. When the baker’s daughter and the farmer’s son were proclaimed by the rector as candidates for marriage, Charlotte puzzled over what might have drawn them together. They seemed much too ordinary to have felt love. How had either attached the other? Charlotte vowed that when her time came she would find someone superior to love, someone out of the ordinary, and then she would marry him.
That a lifetime with a husband inevitably followed the wedding day was something she neglected to picture.
Nor did she turn her mind to the children she would have. Charlotte was an observant girl; she recognized that Lady Lucas was carrying yet another baby sister or brother under the empire drape of her dress. Further, she knew from accompanying her mother to the home of the two little girls, that there was a baby brother growing under the drape of Mrs. Bennet’s dress.
She did not anticipate the arrival of these new infants with any joy. Charlotte’s knowledge of the tedium engendered by the presence of babies came from association with her younger brothers and with the two Bennet little girls, who were far too small to pro
vide her any kind of companionship,. These young ones seemed to her to be noisy and moist. The privilege of being mother to such bothersome creatures was not much of an argument in favour of the matrimonial state. When little Jane and Elizabeth Bennet clamoured for her to take them for walks and tell them stories, she could think only that the expected boy would be even more demanding.
In short, Charlotte was not looking forward to achieving the honoured state of motherhood. She understood that she could not realistically hope to be an actress: perhaps she had always known that. But in the next two or three years she would grow to be as beautiful as Amelia, and she would marry a wonderfully handsome man who would be rich (and possibly titled) and his name would be Frederic, He would provide their household with a regiment of servants, (she thought here of the ever increasing set of household chores for which she was given responsibility as the Lucas family grew) so that the less pleasant aspects of caring for babies would not be a bother to her.
In an attempt to anticipate the time when she would attend balls and dine with adults, she devoted idle moments to giving trial to various ways she might wear her hair. Even at the age of eleven she knew that no Baron or clergyman would seek her hand if she were not beautiful.
Charlotte was sure that curls falling past the ear would make her a beauty. It was really quite simple.
Alas, she knew no person equivalent to a Baron. Netherfield, the most significant house in the neighbourhood, was owed by an aging gout-ridden barrister and his two widowed sisters, the trio spending much of their time in either Bath or London, where the amusements were of a superior quality to those to be found in Hertfordshire. If she hoped to meet and marry someone of rank, she must herself visit London and Bath in the proper seasons. That is where the finest men were to be met. There she would dress beautifully and attend the plays and operas, and while not applauded, she would be observed and spoken of as “the beautiful Miss Lucas.” Even without a sizeable dowry, she would have suitors from which to choose.
Or should Charlotte, like Amelia, fall in love with a handsome and learned clergyman, one not clearly eligible to marry a knight’s daughter? Should Charlotte then take the initiative in courting him? Perhaps he would not realize her love of him. Perhaps he would feel himself unworthy of her hand. She would have need of finding a way to tell him. In this version he had kept hidden his love of her in the years since she was a child of ten, despairing of ever winning her heart. He would not recognize her feelings unless she made them very clear to him, as Amelia had done to her tutor. Then it would be discovered that Anhalt—or whoever—had been granted a fine living, and in time, when the grantor died, he would inherit the property of this wealthy man.