Searching For Captain Wentworth

by Jane Odiwe

  At breakfast next morning, I decided to make a bid for freedom. I knew if I could get out to the gardens I might have a chance of seeing Jane and Cassy, but Mr Elliot had other ideas saying we had an engagement that couldn’t be missed. William Glanville, a distant cousin by marriage, had arrived in Bath on the previous afternoon and had invited us to visit.

  ‘You are to make yourself very amiable in the company of this gentleman, Sophia, for the sake of your sister,’ he said. ‘He is a widower who has made it known amongst the acquaintance of our circle that it is time he thought about marrying again. He is rich, the owner of several properties in the land. His largest estate is in the north, a gothic castle, that I am sure would satisfy all the romantic notions of any young woman.’

  I breathed with relief. It was impossible not to think of poor Sophia being paraded before this Mr Glanville like a prize cow being led to the slaughter, but at least, it seemed she might be spared the ultimate sacrifice. That unenviable lot would be left to her sister Emma to fulfil.

  I was surprised to find that Mr Glanville was not the grieving widower, but young and good looking, appearing to be both charming and very hospitable in an old-fashioned way. He was confident and dressed expensively in clothes that were cut to show off his tall, slim figure. I thought of all the men in my own time that I knew, and decided I was definitely a girl with a preference for nineteenth century manners.

  ‘My dearest cousins, I am so delighted to make your acquaintance once more. It has been too long, but I hope we will make up for lost time now we are together in Bath. Tell me, have you visited the theatre yet?’

  Emma lost no opportunity in speaking up, blushing pink as she spoke. ‘No, Mr Elliot, we have not yet had that pleasure. Is there a play that you would recommend?’

  ‘Why, “The Rivals” – Sheridan’s masterfully funny play is a wonder not to be missed. I am certain it would be to your taste. I know young ladies like a romance, and those two heroines, Lydia and Julia will not disappoint. I shall arrange a box if you would like it.’

  ‘Oh, Papa, may we?’ Emma was smiling and happier than I’d ever seen her. Mr Elliot agreed to the idea, but Mr Glanville rapidly moved on to other subjects. He shared his love of poetry, not forgetting to ask our opinions on our own favourites, which had me almost scratching my head in remembrance of schooldays and appropriate poems. When he talked about his anticipation in dancing at the balls, I began to think that perhaps Emma could do a lot worse than marry this man who would at least be able to give her a comfortable life and who seemed to share an interest in like- minded passions.

  When we found ourselves back at Sydney Place, Mrs Randall sought me out, saying that she was delighted by the visit, confiding that the summer before he’d married had been a time when Emma’s first hopes with that gentleman had been disappointed.

  ‘You were away at school, so I daresay you knew little or if you remember at all, but we expected a match for your sister then.’

  ‘No, I do not remember.’

  ‘It was the talk of Bath. Mr Glanville sought your sister out at all the dances during the first month of the season. Everyone admired Miss Elliot, she was in her bloom and as pretty as a picture. But when Miss Ancaster came along with her family estates and fortune, we knew that Emma’s hopes would be dashed.

  Your sister’s dowry and lineage could not possibly compete, though I shall always say that on beauty alone Emma won the day. I do believe your sister suffered when he withdrew. Did she never write to you about her disappointment?’

  ‘Possibly she did, but I cannot recall the letter,’ I said truthfully. ‘So, Mr Glanville made his choice based on wealth and gain and not on the suitability of a partner by any other means.’

  ‘Only a foolish young man would have acted to the contrary,’ admitted Mrs Randall. ‘But, now his wife has been in her grave these last twelve months along with her poor dead babe, perhaps he is ready to start looking about for someone to take her place. This invitation is very encouraging, though, in any case, as a family connection I am sure he would have sought our acquaintance.’

  ‘I hope for Emma’s sake, everything will turn out as she hopes.’ I wanted to add that I would find it very difficult, if not impossible, starting all over again with someone who had not even wanted to marry me in the first place, preferring to choose someone who had more money, but tried to remember that my own thoughts were modern ones. Their way of going about courtship and marriage was accepted by everyone. I’d read Jane Austen’s novels over and over again to know that much. And I didn’t know quite what to think about the charming Mr Glanville any more.

  When Mrs Randall left me, the impossibility of my escape from the nineteenth century began to hit me with a force like a blow to the head. I hadn’t really wanted to come back again, I’d wanted to sort things out with Josh, and now, I didn’t know if there was any chance of doing either.

  The sound of a gong calling everyone to dinner broke my thoughts and as I passed the cheval glass in the corner of my chamber, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. There was something about the eyes I recognized, but the face that stared back was not mine even though it moved in just the same way. I stuck out my tongue, trying to catch out the vision in the glass. Why I was so astonished when my mirror image did the same, I don’t know. I remember thinking how much more of myself I seemed to be able to see in Sophia’s face, in her figure and in the way that she walked, and for a single moment, I could not remember anything about myself or the life I’d left behind.

  The afternoon light was fading into early evening twilight and the glow of candlelight could be seen through windows across the meadows in the curve of the Paragon and beyond to all the terraces and crescents of Lansdown lit up like tiers in a vast amphitheatre.

  The talk at dinner touched upon one subject only, that of Mr Glanville and of the honours Mr Elliot felt by being received so cordially.

  ‘Family connections remind one of our place in society and it will be to our great advantage to be seen in the company of our noble cousin. Blood and good breeding will always find one another. Emma, you behaved very prettily this afternoon. And, I am sure it did not escape the attention of our host that you are in very good looks.’

  ‘I flatter myself that I take after you, Father,’ Emma answered, with a smirk. ‘Indeed, I have often traced my features in your handsome portrait at the Hall, and I am blessed to have the luck to witness that face whenever I stand before the glass.’

  ‘And Sophia has equal good fortune to look like her dear mama,’ said Mrs Randall.

  I chanced to look up from the plate of food that I wasn’t entirely certain about. Everything had arrived on the table at once. Arranged symmetrically on white gilded Wedgewood with a laurel motif, the mahogany table gleamed under candlelight, bearing plates of salmon with bulging, glassy eyes, jellied tongue glistening with gelatine, Florentine rabbits complete with heads and furry ears, oily mackerel in a sea-green sauce, a quivering white blancmange, and the only dish I was tempted by, a syllabub, like a dish of snow topped with crystallized flowers. I hesitantly tasted the cold mackerel that stared at me balefully from my plate. Was it my imagination or was the green gooseberry preserve that covered it doing more to disguise the fact that the fish had not seen the sea for quite some time?

  Mr Elliot looked me up and down through his quizzing glass in such a way that I very quickly returned my gaze to my plate.

  ‘She does, indeed, and whilst she may never equal her sister in handsome looks, she has got over that most trying age and there is an improvement in her complexion, which was rather sallow. At least, Sophia has the advantage over her sister Marianne. The last time she came home from school, she had a nervous tick that rendered both eyes a most unattractive shade of puce. I do hope she will be improved in the summer.’

  Whilst smarting on Sophia’s behalf it occurred to me that I didn’t really know about this other sister Marianne, youngest of the Elliot girls and fortunately for her f
ar away at school.

  Mrs Randall looked at me as she spoke up with a kindness that made me warm to her even more. I felt sorry for Sophia, but at least Mrs Randall seemed to have her best interests at heart.

  ‘The Elliot girls will be admired wherever they go, not only for their beauty which they all share, but for the qualities inherited from their parents whether they take the form of physical and intellectual attributes or whether they are hidden in other talents that make up a person’s character. Those qualities of sense and amiability in Mrs Elliot, that made her the dearest cousin and friend to me, are the treasures that lie within them all. I witness those traits every day and am constantly reminded of her quiet strength.’

  I struggled to eat as much of the cold fish on my plate as I could. The second course arrived with plates of roast beef and duck, as well as apple pies and custards, but my appetite had gone.

  Mr Elliot turned the conversation to Monday’s ball. ‘Mr Glanville will be in attendance and has made his request that we should be there to join his party.’

  That wasn’t quite how I’d remembered it, but I felt sure that Mr Elliot would find some way of putting himself forward. The thought of the ball filled me with dread, and as Emma spoke excitedly about what she was to wear and which dances might be performed, all I could hope was that the tedium of an evening spent with the Elliots might be relieved with some conversation from Jane and her brother Charles.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Time seemed to pass slowly before the ball. Over the next few days it was impossible to get out. I was thwarted at every attempt to escape; I saw nothing of the Miss Austens and could only hope that Mr Elliot hadn’t upset them too much. On Saturday morning Emma spent the entire time trying on dresses asking my opinion about which gown she should wear for the ball and how to dress her hair. It was impossible to concentrate on anything. As far as I was concerned, there was only one thing to think about. I had an idea that if I could get to the gate in Sydney Gardens, I might be able to get back to my own time. It was the only hope I had. After nuncheon, I chose my moment carefully, when Mr Elliot’s snores resounded loudly from his favourite chair and when I knew that Emma and Mrs Randall were closeted away upstairs discussing gloves and fans. I slipped away out of the house and across the road.

  It didn’t take long to find the white gate, although I knew as soon as I saw it that it was hopeless. The gate was locked, and in my heart I knew it had been a futile exercise. Without the glove, it was impossible. There was nothing for it, but to return to the house.

  I wandered along the gravel paths trying to convince myself that I’d been given an opportunity that most people only dream about. But the world was changed beyond anything I had ever imagined, and I tried not to think about the fact that I could be imprisoned there forever. I felt so completely alone.

  It was then that I heard a voice calling me. ‘Miss Elliot, you are not lost, I hope.’

  Charles Austen was hurrying towards me. I had to smile. ‘Lieutenant Austen, I have not yet ventured into the Labyrinth, and can safely find my way home, thank you.’

  I wondered if I’d sounded rude, but I didn’t want him to think that I was a helpless female who couldn’t walk round a park without needing male assistance. He touched his hat and I thought he might walk away, but then he seemed to change his mind.

  ‘My sisters are clambering up Beechen cliff this afternoon,’ he said. ‘I must admit I had not the energy for such a jaunt today. I wanted peace, solitude, and a level walk.’

  There was more than a hint of laughter in his voice. I wondered if he was finding it difficult being in the company of such strong-minded women after being on a ship completely dominated by men. When I thought about Mrs Austen’s apparent hypochondria and her interfering ways, I could understand why a profession that took you away from home for months and even years at a time might be such an inviting one.

  ‘I enjoy being on my own, and the gardens are so convenient,’ I began.

  ‘Do you always prefer your own company to that of being in society?’ His face looked serious for the moment, though his dark eyes twinkled as if there were some hidden secret only he delighted in.

  ‘Oh no, but I do love to have time to think,’ I said, knowing that this was perfectly true, ‘and I can never think so well in a room full of people as I can on my own.’

  ‘Your thoughts mirror my own, exactly. And even if you do manage to slip away with your thoughts in a crowded room, there is always someone who wants to know just what you are about. In my house, Miss Elliot, it is impossible to have private thoughts.’

  I imagined that it would be far more difficult. At least in the twenty-first century you could be in a room full of people watching television and no one would know whether you were far away with your own thoughts or whether you were taking in everything on the screen. It was much more difficult in a time where conversation ruled the day and where you needed to be taking notice of what was being said at all times so that you could respond. I was learning how different it was to have your attention constantly demanded.

  Opinions were always required, and yet, I was beginning to feel that the only opinions considered worth having were those that matched everyone else’s.

  ‘Being out of the house and walking are what I enjoy when I need to think,’ I said. ‘And, if you can walk and see nature in all its glory; that is all to the better. When I am at home and can only see the grey buildings of the town, I long for the countryside. To see vast landscapes with fields stretching away before you lifts my spirits like nothing else.’

  ‘Forgive me, Miss Elliot, but I believe I have been mistaken in thinking your family home is in a country village in Somerset.’

  I suddenly realized what a silly mistake I’d made. ‘It is in Somerset,’ I said, thinking quickly, ‘but we are often in London for the Season, and then the countryside seems so far away.’

  Oh dear. I knew he was looking at me with a puzzled expression, and as I didn’t know what else to say, I thought now might be the time to move on.

  ‘Would you take a turn with me, Miss Elliot?’ Charles Austen held out his hand, and I couldn’t help noticing the tan leather of his gloves, suspecting that he kept his white ones for more formal occasions. ‘Take my arm, like my sisters do.’

  Without another thought I held out my hand, which he took up linking his arm with mine. We walked in silence and I wondered what he could be thinking about, if he was enjoying the chance to have a few private thoughts without being asked about them.

  ‘It’s good to be walking on dry land again,’ he said at last. ‘I do not have the opportunity for much exercise when I am away at sea. Of course, on the occasions when we put into port, it’s a different matter. I love to go exploring if I get the chance.’

  I looked up at him and smiled. ‘Your sister told me that you are a lieutenant on the Endymion. Is the life of a sailor as adventurous as it sounds?’

  ‘Miss Elliot, my life on board ship has been an exciting one thus far, and I have travelled to many parts of the world that I never thought to see. I have been extremely lucky.’

  ‘But it must be a perilous one also in times of war.’

  ‘The life can be dangerous, but not all my duties involve fighting at sea, whether it be attacking gunboats or capturing privateers. Awhile back I had the good fortune to accompany Prince Augustus to Lisbon for the sake of his health. The climate is milder and the young prince was to spend winter there. I spent three pleasant days in Portugal’s capital and found my royal passenger to be jolly and affable!’

  ‘But the conditions on board ship, they cannot be as comfortable as one might enjoy at home, can they?’

  ‘Not perhaps as home comforts might be, but the accommodations are very adequate. It is true, life in the Navy would not suit everyone, but like my brother Francis, it suits me very well. If I could convey to you, Miss Elliot, the sense of pride I feel when we put out to sea and the great satisfaction felt by us all when the tasks
our Admirals set for us to do have been accomplished, you would comprehend my devotion to the job in hand. And, once engaged in our mission and our duties, any sense of danger or peril just disappears.’

  ‘How wonderful it must be to have a career where you feel your every action makes an important difference.’

  ‘Well, I do not know that I have yet proved myself to be indispensable, but I hope I will establish in time that my superiors were right to believe in me enough to set me on the road I have chosen. With luck and hard work I hope to make my mark. The opportunities to make a career in one of the noblest professions are there for the taking. I am not rich yet, Miss Elliot, but one day, I trust there will be a chance to earn my prize money.’

  ‘Your sisters told me that you have earned some prizes already, but that you spent it all on them.’

  ‘It was nothing to spend a little to see the delight on their faces, I can assure you. My sisters do not have much in the way of treats or luxuries and when I saw the topaz crosses all I could think about was how much delight they would give.’

  ‘Your sisters are very lucky, I think, to have such a thoughtful brother, Lieutenant Austen.’

  ‘You do not have any brothers, Miss Elliot?’

  ‘No,’ I answered. ‘I always wished to have one.’

  He said no more. We walked on with our own thoughts as we came back around the gardens to the entrance once more. I’d enjoyed being with him. He made me feel safe and I knew instinctively that he was someone I could rely on. I’d never had a brother and hadn’t Jane said I could have my share in one of hers?