I give a little shiver and hand him the rest of my ice. I don’t know whether it is the ice making me cold or the expression on his face.
For a few minutes nothing is said while he moodily spoons the rest of the ice into his mouth, but then he touches the curl that hangs down over my forehead and smiles at me.
‘There’s no need for you to be scared of anyone.’ His voice is very gentle now, and his brown eyes are soft again. ‘If Augusta scolds you, stand up to her. If she finds out about Southampton – and it doesn’t really matter if she does; she or anyone else – then just say that you did the right thing and you saved your cousin. And if that doesn’t work, send for me – night or day, I’ll come riding to the rescue with my two pistols at the ready.’
And then he laughs, and I laugh at the thought of Augusta being threatened with two pistols.
And after that it is time to line up again. This time Jane, partnered by Tom Lefroy, is beside me. I see her looking up at Thomas as they cross hands together in the middle of the line.
‘Oh heavens, my dear, what a very fine beau you have found for yourself. I do declare that he is almost as fine as Valancourt in The Mysteries of Udolpho,’ she murmurs in my ear when she returns to my side. I am not embarrassed. I just chuckle. Suddenly I feel full of confidence. The most handsome man in the room is my partner and I feel as though I am in heaven. I see Lady Portsmouth staring at me, but I don’t care. Nothing matters except Thomas.
‘Jenny, let’s not dance the next dance,’ he says.
I have lost count; I don’t know whether it is the fourth or the fifth dance, but I don’t mind as long as Thomas is with me.
‘Let’s go and sit out in the colonnade again.’ He leads me over to a small stone bench beside one of the tall marble pillars. I sit down and cool first one cheek and then the other against the cold marble of the pillar. He sits down beside me. There is barely room for the two of us.
‘Are you tired?’ I ask.
He shakes his head. ‘I just want us to talk,’ he explains.
He tells me about the East Indies, and about the tigers and elephants that he has seen and about his voyages to the other side of the world – to the West Indies. I tell him a bit more about my life in Bristol – about my brother and his wife and about my life before that. I tell him about my mama, and tears come into my eyes. He puts his arm around me and holds me very close to him for a minute. When he releases me I know I am blushing, but it doesn’t matter. Here under the palms no one can see my hot cheeks.
And then, as the music slows and the dance is finishing, he says, ‘Perhaps you will come and see my home one day and meet my uncle and my sister – will you do that?’
I can’t say anything. He doesn’t seem to want an answer. He can probably read it in my smile.
‘Sitting under these palms makes me feel as if we are on one of those islands near Barbados that you were telling me about,’ I say.
‘I wish we were,’ he answers. ‘You can’t imagine what the islands are like, Jenny. The sea is so blue and the sands are so white. The sun is dazzling.’
‘Mama would say that is bad for the complexion,’ I say, smiling. It’s strange, but it is the first time since Mama died that I am able to mention her without pain.
‘You would sit under the shade of the palm trees during the day,’ he says, taking my hand to pull me to my feet. The master of ceremonies is calling everyone to take their places for the next dance. ‘And by moonlight you could bathe in the warm sea,’ he whispers in my ear as he escorts me across the ballroom so that we can join the long line of gentlemen and ladies.
I’ll remember this all my life, I think: the candles flickering in the cut-glass chandelier; the sudden scent of lavender water wafted on the hot air; the pungent smell of hot wax and of buckskin gloves; the musicians playing very softly, the voices murmuring, exclaiming, laughing; the gentlemen handsome in black coats, but more dashing in the red coats of the army or in the royal blue of the navy; the pretty whites, pinks, blues and yellows of the muslin gowns as we all cross and cross back from partner to partner.
Saturday night, 2 April 1791
I’m sitting here thinking about the ball — trying to put off the moment when I must write down what happened after those first most wonderful, magical few hours …
Everything was going well.
And then I had to spoil it all. I think it started when he said, ‘Don’t stand there; that candle is drooping; you’ll get hot wax all over you,’ as I took my place beside Elizabeth Bigg. His hand was on my arm and he moved me down a little, just as someone would move a child.
‘Don’t pout,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t like to see the candle drip on your curls.’ He was quite casual about it. A minute later he was looking with a puzzled frown on his face at someone at the top of the room, near the doorway.
I could see that Elizabeth Bigg had heard what he said and I felt very embarrassed. I felt annoyed that he was treating me like a child. I remembered all the things that Jane told me, and what Eliza told me. I wanted to behave like a sophisticated woman and I tried to flirt with him, but it didn’t seem to work. He just looked amused and the frown disappeared from his forehead. He took no notice when I used my fan and cast down my eyelashes and then peeped up at him. I even tried saying, ‘Oh la …’ but he didn’t seem to respond. He just danced with a faint smile on his face and a look as if his thoughts were far away.
When we sat out after this dance, it seemed as if Thomas was still thinking of that terrible night again. He started questioning me about it. In a way it was a relief to pour it all out — I often had nightmares about it still. I told him all about the sailors who shouted, ‘Look at that little beauty!’ and called to me to join them, about the inn full of drunken men, and the lady who stared at me with such disapproval and then pulled down the blind. When I had finished he took my hand and kissed my fingers, but his face was very serious and his brown eyes were dark and hard.
‘Promise me that you will never do a thing like that again,’ he said.
I took my hand away from his and shrugged my shoulders. He was treating me like a little girl again, I thought. Men should fall at your feet — if I could believe Eliza and Jane — not order you to do things.
‘I don’t know,’ I said, and I thought I sounded grown-up and sophisticated. ‘I suppose it was rather an adventure.’
I could see a flush come to his cheekbones — it surprised me that I could see it as his face was so tanned and his colour so good already. His eyes were still very hard. I looked down and played with my fan, placing it into the ‘maybe’ position. Already I was wishing that I had not said that. It sounded silly. When I looked up he was not even looking at me. He was looking quite away from me.
‘Excuse me for a moment,’ he said, and then he walked away from me. I was left sitting by myself, eating my ice; after a minute I pushed it away. It had begun to melt and the taste was too sweet. What was he doing? He had gone towards the door and had now completely disappeared. There was a crowd of naval men near the door, all laughing, and I wondered whether he was among them. But no, he was so tall that he would have been head and shoulders over most of them. He must have gone out. But why? And where had he gone? Surely he wasn’t so offended by my silly remark that he was going to leave me alone here.
‘Are you all right, Jenny?’ It was Frank passing by. He stopped, looking concerned. I smiled up at him, thinking how nice he was.
‘Yes, I’m fine, Frank,’ I said, trying to sound normal.
He hesitated for a moment, and then his eyes went to a tall figure approaching — two figures. Frank nodded to me and then walked away as Captain Williams and his companion drew near.
‘Miss Cooper, may I introduce First Lieutenant Price?’ I got up and curtsied, and Lieutenant Price gave me a splendid bow.
‘It’s an honour to meet you, Miss Cooper. Would you favour me with the next dance?’
But this was the last dance! I couldn’t believe that Thom
as would want me to be with someone else for the last dance of the evening. I looked at him and saw that the flush was still on his cheeks and his dark eyes were still hard. He hardly seemed to look at me, just bowed and took his leave as if we were almost strangers.
Lieutenant Price was a good-humoured, cheerful young man who seemed to want to earn his captain’s approval by paying me lots of compliments. Funnily enough, although I was worried about why Thomas had suddenly shot off like that, I found it quite easy to respond to him. I even practised flirting with my fan and saying, ‘Oh la, sir, you make me blush.’ It was all a game — like playing pontoon — and I thought that I could probably get used to doing this.
Lieutenant Price was full of praise for his captain when we had reached the end of the line and were marking time. He seemed to really worship Thomas. He told a story about how once when they were in action his captain had been prepared to sacrifice his own personal prize money of at least five hundred pounds when they had an opportunity of capturing a Spanish frigate because one man had gone overboard. Thomas had ordered the boat to be lowered, but while this was being done he himself had dived into the water and rescued the drowning man by the hair of his head and held him out of the water until the boat arrived to pick them both up.
‘He’s the bravest man in the world and the best captain! And do you know something, Miss Cooper? He’s the youngest captain in the whole British navy and yet middle-aged men are proud to serve under him!’
And this bravest man in the world, this youngest captain in the navy, this hero who was willing to sacrifice life and fortune for his men, this man handsome as a god, this kind, beautiful, exciting man had danced with me for almost the whole evening, I thought to myself as we went home in the hired coach.
But why did he suddenly leave?
If it were something to do with the ship, then surely Lieutenant Price would have told me about it. Goodness knows he talked enough about that ship.
Could it be that he thought I was too young, too silly, for him and he suddenly tired of me and handed me over to one of his junior officers?
I’m not going to think of it any more tonight or I won’t sleep. I’ll just think about that time when we sat under the palms and talked about the white sand of Barbados.
Sunday, 3 April 1791
When I woke up this morning I felt quite exhausted. I asked Jane to tell Frank that I was too tired for a riding lesson. Jane decided that she was too tired to do her piano practise so we both curled up on my bed and discussed the ball. I told her all my worries and fears about Thomas not dancing the last dance with me, but she brushed them aside. When I told her that Thomas had left the ballroom for a few minutes, she suggested that Lord Portsmouth probably sent for him to come to the card room to make a fourth at the whist table.
‘He couldn’t refuse — after all, he has been staying there at Hurstbourne Place as a guest for the last week or so. My father always says that the earl lives for his card games.’
I turned that around in my mind. It did seem to make sense.
‘Well, I won’t expect to see him this week as he is going to the Isle of Wight tomorrow to visit his uncle and his sister.’
Then I told Jane all about how he wanted me to meet them, and Jane got very excited about this. She told me that everyone was looking at us and talking about us and speculating on whether it would be a match. All three of the Bigg girls were certain that he would propose.
‘Shocking behaviour!’ Jane giggled. ‘Sitting out, dancing with only one man, exposing yourself to the gossip of the county …’
‘Did my aunt say that?’ I asked the question anxiously, but Jane shook her head. ‘No, no, but never mind about Mama … Tell me, did he make an offer?’
I told her no, that he just spoke of my visiting his sister and his uncle, the admiral, and Jane nodded wisely, as if she were at least thirty years old.
‘That’s the first step towards making an offer,’ she said sagely.
‘But what if his uncle doesn’t like me?’
‘It doesn’t matter — he’s of independent means.’ Jane was always very sure of herself when it came to matters like that.
‘In any case …’ It was nice to have a best friend to talk things over with, I thought. My mind was full of worries, though I felt happier than I had ever felt before. For the first time, yesterday, I had tasted Champagne, and I felt as if the wine was still bubbling inside me. However, Jane’s question made me bite my nails anxiously. Would Thomas ask me to marry him? This would be every girl’s dream — that the man she loved would propose marriage. But perhaps it was just a dream. I got off the bed and walked over to the window.
‘What is troubling you, my dear Miss Cooper?’ enquired Jane. ‘Don’t you want to get married then? Perhaps you want to become a writer, to devote your life to your art. Is that it?’
I shook my head, laughing. Jane always managed to find something ridiculous to say.
‘Or an artist, a painter?’ Her eyebrows were raised.
‘No, I’d just like to be married,’ I said.
‘I wonder how much a year Captain Williams possesses?’ murmured Jane, sounding like a concerned mother. ‘I must have a chat with Frank about this.’
‘Don’t,’ I said. Somehow, inside all my happiness, there was a vision of Frank’s young, hurt face as he stepped politely to one side when Thomas was escorting me. I don’t think that Frank is really in love with me — boys are younger than girls in these matters, Jane tells me — but I think he feels something for me, and I thought that he looked a little jealous when he saw how Thomas’s arm was still around my waist even though the dance had finished. ‘Don’t,’ I said again. ‘I don’t mind how much Thomas has. I’d marry him if he didn’t have a penny.’
‘Dear, dear, dear.’ Jane clicked her tongue reprovingly. ‘You shouldn’t be like that. Now, me, I’m determined to marry no man with under ten thousand pounds a year. So, my dear young creature, will you accept him if he asks you?’
I nodded. ‘Yes, of course, but …’
‘But?’ Jane’s eyebrows rose. ‘Are his breeches just too white? Is that it?’
I went back and sat on the bed again.
‘I’m worried that people will think I’m too young. I’m only sixteen — perhaps I am too young — my brother is very particular about things. And Augusta was twenty-three when she married so I bet she will think that is the exact right age to get married.’ I remembered that Thomas had asked me for Edward-John’s address. Why did he want that? What was he going to write to them about? Surely he wasn’t going to mention marriage before asking me?
But if he did, what would Edward-John and, more importantly, Augusta, think about a girl of sixteen getting engaged to be married? I remembered overhearing Augusta whispering to one of her friends about how Edward-John would have problems if I ever did get married. I didn’t understand it, but I guessed that perhaps the fifty pounds a year that Edward-John has now to maintain me would have to be given up if I married. How would Edward-John react to that? Augusta was extravagant and always had to have the best of everything. I knew that Edward-John worried about the bills that came in from the haberdashery and furniture shops. It would be a blow to him to give up my little fortune.
‘I just know that Edward-John and Augusta will say that I am too young to get married,’ I said aloud. The more I thought about it, the more despairing I felt.
‘Well, look at all those queens that Cassandra was trying to make me study!’ Jane always had an answer to every problem. ‘They got married very young. Henry VII’s mother was married at twelve and she had a child at thirteen. And there was that unspeakably learned Lady Jane Grey — who only lived to annoy everyone by showing off the fact that she could speak Greek. Do you know that when she saw her husband’s body being brought back from the scaffold, she sat down and wrote a sentence about it in Latin and then another one in Greek? Well, she was not only married when she was sixteen, but got her head chopped off before she
was seventeen as well. Now, that was packing a lot into a short life! You’ll never do as well as Lady Jane Grey, my dear. Just be content with getting married at sixteen — and keeping your head on your shoulders, of course!’
And then we both rolled on the bed giggling and I began to feel quite a bit better. I would just have to wait until I saw Thomas again and then I could see whether he really did care for me. If he did, well, he would handle Augusta and Edward-John for me.
The rest of the day was quite uninteresting: church, dinner, music, card games in the parlour … Frank was missing because Mrs Austen had sent him over to Lady Portsmouth with a note saying how we had all enjoyed the evening, and then Henry went off to visit the Portals. Things were dull without them.
That night before going to bed, Jane said to me solemnly, ‘Don’t look so worried, Jenny. No man tells a girl that he wants his nearest relations to meet her unless he is on the point of proposing. You can take my word for that — I assure you I have made a life study of this subject.’
Monday, 4 April 1791
Tuesday, 5 April 1791
Jane and I were going out with a basket today. We had a slice of meat in it for George, and I had drawn some pictures of all kinds of meat. At the gate we met Mr Austen on his way back from church. He asked us where we were going and when Jane, who is always very courageous, told him, he looked a little embarrassed, gave a quick glance at the house to make sure that his wife wasn’t watching and then said that he would come with us.
George wasn’t alarmed — though I’m not sure whether he knew it was his father. He learned the sign for meat and then we put out all the pictures, made the signs, and one by one he was able to point to the pictures. Each time that he pointed, Jane dug into her basket and produced something. We didn’t have an orange and he was upset at that, searching the basket himself. Eventually he found a small piece of orange peel and he ate that. I hoped it wouldn’t harm him, but he seemed very happy.
I Was Jane Austen's Best Friend Page 20