A Summer in Scarborough

by Blake Smith

  It was with that object in mind that she remained nearly silent for the rest of their short journey, making only an occasional civil remark when the conversation seemed to call for it. Luckily, they very quickly gained the tiny village of Whitfield, learned that it possessed both a respectable inn and a wheelwright, and were deposited at the inn.

  Anne thought she might have been able to sleep in the hedgerow, such was her weariness, but the Fox and Goose was a much better choice. They were shown to a private parlor, and though Sir Henry joined them at Lady Catherine’s invitation, she was pleased overall with their accommodations.

  She was less pleased at her mother’s manner. Anne did not suspect Lady Catherine of seeking Sir Henry’s acquaintance for her own sake, but she knew not what to make of her behavior. Lady Catherine had usually been civil to any respectable acquaintance of her husband’s, of which there were many, but to invite the man to dine with them!

  Luckily, she had some relief in the presence of Mrs. Jenkinson, who could not always be frantic over Anne’s health, and immediately favored her with a series of rather elliptical remarks on the subject of riding in the baggage coach with the servants, which she’d been obliged to do. Anne felt a little sorry for her, and carefully did not mention that Sir Henry’s carriage was large enough to have accommodated all of their party.

  Mrs. Jenkinson seemed soothed by her remarks, and the evening passed off smoothly enough, though Anne was so weary by the time they sought their bedchambers, she only heard Lady Catherine repeating her command that Sir Henry should come to Scarborough, not the gentleman’s reply.

  CHAPTER four

  But Sir Henry Thornton, helpful though he might be, could not travel with them. Lady Catherine expressed her disappointment, but Anne was not sorry for it. She was already growing annoyed with travel- not with the landscapes they passed through, but with being trapped in the carriage with such uncompanionable people. For though the wheel was replaced quickly enough, and they lost little time for having stopped in Whitfield, Lady Catherine scarcely opened her mouth the next day, save to remark on how the delay would affect the remainder of their journey.

  And Mrs. Jenkinson was no better. Being away from Rosings had not altered her character, either, and she was often expressing her concern for Anne’s health. Anne herself resolved to say as little as possible, lest she say something terribly uncivil, and kept to her resolve for the remaining three days of the journey.

  Their road took them within ten miles of Pemberley, and Anne was sorry that they were not to call upon the Darcys. Lady Catherine was not at all reconciled to her nephew’s marriage, though it had taken place over a year ago and already produced an heir to the estate. Anne thought the continuing feud absurd; the marriage could not be undone, and she’d always been fond of her cousin, though not to the extent of breaking her heart when he became attached to another woman.

  But Lady Catherine commanded that they were to drive straight through the neighborhood, and she must be obeyed. So it was shortly before dinnertime on the fourth day of the journey that they found themselves pulling up in front of the house Lady Catherine had taken for the summer. It was a fine place in a fashionable area of town- Anne could see that simply by looking about herself- but she wished to know more of their neighbors and the town itself.

  Brooke Street was a well-paved modern avenue, rising slightly above the Scarborough proper, but only a short walk from the sea. As Anne stepped out of the carriage, a breeze caught her hat, and she smiled as she put a hand up to stop it flying away. How unlike the neighborhood of Rosings, where everything was green and stately! The white-painted houses of Brooke Street were not so large as a country mansion, and shared their walls with one another, but Anne was delighted with the place, thinking that though sharing a small house with her mother and Mrs. Jenkinson might become tiresome, she might seek solace in Georgiana’s company, or in a bit of shopping. At Rosings, she could not walk to see her neighbors because of the great distances between the houses, but here she might pay calls without requiring use of the carriage.

  “I might go out, with only Harris to attend me,” she said to herself, “and Mamma will never know.” For she thought that ladies of her age were permitted to walk in such places with only a maid for chaperonage, and no one thought ill of them for it. Georgiana would be kept closer to home, of course, since she was but eighteen years of age, but Anne resolved to visit as much as her strength would allow.

  And the sea! Surely she would be allowed to indulge herself with walks along the water, and perhaps a bit of sea-bathing. Lady Catherine could hardly say that it was unhealthful; all of the best physicians recommended sea-air and sea-bathing to invalids. Anne hoped she might derive some benefit from these remedies, but she must admit to herself that she also simply wished to admire the beauty of the place, the vast blue-gray water, nearly the color of her eyes; the whitecaps that danced so merrily upon its surface; that fine planting of trees that marked the edge of the parkland north of Brooke Street.

  The inside of Number Twelve was no less to her taste than its surroundings. Everything had been decorated in the light, elegant style she favored, though Lady Catherine instantly announced that the chairs were sure to collapse the moment one sat on them, and that white curtains were not at all the thing. But Anne’s spirits were not dampened by these remarks, and she was positively enraptured to discover that her bedroom had a fine view of both the sea and the woodland.

  They dined simply that evening, Anne having pled weariness to avoid going out again. And she was tired by the exertion of the journey and the newness of her lodgings. Resolving to call upon the Hursts on the morrow, she sought her bed with a light heart.

  Yes, it was good to be at the seaside.

  CHAPTER five

  The next morning saw her rise with more than her usual alacrity, the sun having woken her with its light peeking through the window curtains. Unfortunately, there was little to do at such an early hour. She could not visit her neighbors, or go to the shops, or any of the things she planned to occupy her time. Even breakfast was not to be served for another three hours.

  But Harris, that good woman, was kind enough to bring Anne a cup of chocolate and a biscuit warm from the oven, and after donning one of her new morning dresses, Anne was well entertained by sitting by the window and alternately nibbling her repast, reading the book she’d intended to read on the journey, and looking out at the sea. Though it was early, a great many fishing boats, tiny and colorful, were bobbing about on the waves. Closer to Anne, the streets were populated mostly by tradesmen and deliverymen. The rumble of carts over the cobbles was a constant hum in her ears, and though she suspected it would eventually become tiresome, for now, the novelty was stronger.

  Anne passed a very contented few hours, and was happy to call upon the Hursts at the proper hour. Of course, she most wanted to see Georgiana, having only a slight acquaintance with Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, and it was with a light heart and light steps that she accompanied her mother to Number Eight, Brooke Street. Lady Catherine was frowning darkly at the prospect of paying a call instead of waiting to be called upon, but Anne could not sit in state with only her mother and Mrs. Jenkinson for company.

  The ladies of the house greeted Anne with warmth, and her mother with civility, exactly to both their tastes. Georgiana was looking well, and Anne told her so at the first opportunity, when Lady Catherine was lamenting the horrors of their journey to Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley.

  “Oh, you’re very kind,” her cousin replied, smiling. “I was so pleased when Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley invited me to accompany them. Pemberely is wonderful this time of year, but I have always liked the seaside.”

  This was the longest speech Anne had ever heard from Georgiana. “I had forgotten that you have been to Scarborough,” she noted, “You shall have to show me all of the sights, and tell me which are the best shops.”

  “Surely Lady Catherine will do that,” Georgiana murmured, but there was a touch of m
ischief in her eyes.

  “No doubt she will,” Anne said, glancing at her mother to be sure she was well occupied. “But you have been staying in this place, and she has not.” Perceiving that the others had paused in their conversation, she next asked Georgiana, “Is Mrs. Annesley with you?”

  Georgiana’s smile vanished. “Sadly, she is gone to stay with her sister for a time, to care for her during an illness. I am sorry to lose her, but she assures me that she will return to Pemberely before Michaelmas.”

  “And you have such kind friends here.”

  “I do.” There was a slight pause, then, “Mrs. Hurst talks of having a ball here later in the summer.”

  Anne had been twice to balls, held by the neighbors of Rosings on the occasion of one of their daughters’ coming out, and was happy to think she might have the opportunity to attend another. As a near relation of Georgiana, and one of the most respectable families in Brooke Street according to Lady Catherine, it was unlikely that she would not be invited, and she expressed her pleasure in the idea as only a young lady could do.

  By this time, Lady Catherine had listened to their conversation, and said severely, “I have no doubt of it being a respectable affair, but, Anne, I am sure you will not be well enough to attend.”

  “Perhaps,” Anne said mildly, then to stave off any further attacks, asked Mrs. Hurst how Mr. Hurst did.

  Though she had but a slight acquaintance with Mrs. Hurst, she knew the lady’s face well enough to see she disliked the question. Or her husband, perhaps? Lady Catherine had once said that Mrs. Hurst’s family had not examined Mr. Hurst’s situation very closely, and had been taken in as to the size of his fortune. If Lady Catherine was correct, Anne could have some sympathy for Mrs. Hurst- to be deceived in such a way, and because of the negligence of her relations, who should have had her interest at heart- it was an intolerable situation. Anne was grateful that her mother, whatever else she might be, was not likely to make such a mistake, if only because her own vanity obliged her to know everything about her acquaintances.

  Luckily, Mrs. Hurst could not see her thoughts. She said, “Mr. Hurst is well. He has gone out- to his tailor, I believe.”

  But scarcely had she finished her sentence than a man’s footsteps were heard outside the drawing room and Mr. Hurst appeared in the doorway. He gave a general, though civil greeting to the ladies, but Anne barely heard it. She was too busy staring.

  Entombed at Rosings, she had little opportunity to examine the vagaries of male fashion, and she couldn’t say if Mr. Hurst’s appearance was of the latest style or not. She could, however, safely say that he looked absurd, and that she dearly hoped not all men were dressing so ridiculously.

  Mr. Hurst was an otherwise handsome man, about thirty years of age, and Anne liked the soft, curling style of his hair. But such was the rest of his attire that she’d found it difficult to discover even those points of compliment. His coat was bright red, his trousers more yellow than the sun, and his upright collar and ornately tied neckcloth impeded his movement so much that he was finding it difficult to lower his chin far enough to look at the ladies, who were seated.

  Mrs. Hurst looked upon her husband with complacency. Though she did not seem to like him, his appearance gave her some pleasure. Only to be expected, Anne thought, rather sourly. Though Mr. Bingley and his two sisters had been well educated, their father had been in trade, and the children must have kept some remnants of his poor taste.

  In this opinion she was joined by her mother, who looked upon Mr. Hurst with disdain. Lady Catherine had been reluctant to visit the Hursts at all, thinking that they should call upon her, and it was only by skillful manipulation that Anne managed to bring her to Number Eight at all. Thus Lady Catherine had frowned and grumbled her way through the visit, lamenting the difficulties of travel to Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley’s ears while they responded with no more than common civility.

  Anne had realized the instant they stepped into the drawing room that the visit was not likely to end well, and was confirmed in these thoughts when Lady Catherine rose, looking down her nose at Mr. Hurst. “Your lady has informed me that you have been to see your tailor; I am glad to hear it,” she said coolly. “Scarborough is not London; such dress is rather too much for the seaside.”

  Mr. Hurst was thankfully a well-mannered man, and said only, “I am always happy to have advice from Your Ladyship,” while Georgiana and Anne stared at each other in dismay. Lady Catherine had always been forthright, and was of high enough rank to speak her mind in most circles without incurring the ire- or worse, the laughter- of the people around her. But to do so among friends- that was enough to make Anne blush and wish herself somewhere else.

  And at that very moment, Lady Catherine was saying, “Come along, Anne; you are looking unwell,” and Anne was obliged to rise and bid Georgiana farewell.

  “I wish you needn’t go,” Georgiana said quietly. “But there is a public ball at the Upper Assembly Rooms tomorrow evening; you must procure tickets. We shall all be there, you know.”

  It was the first Anne had heard of a public ball, and she liked the idea. Now she must only convince Lady Catherine to like it as well.

  But there would be no convincing Lady Catherine of anything at the moment. She swept out of the house, Anne following reluctantly behind her, and stalked up the street to Number Twelve. Anne quickly fell behind; the hill was not steep but she was little accustomed to even the lightest exercise.

  They had gained the entrance of Number Twelve and were removing their bonnets before Anne had enough breath to speak. “Your Ladyship, I wish you would not speak so to Mr. Hurst. He is a silly man, it is true, but he has the power to forbid us to see my cousin while she is a guest in his house.”

  “If he dares to do so, Georgiana shall come to us,” Lady Catherine said with all of her customary assurance. “And I should be glad of it; what my nephew is thinking, letting her stay with such people, is utterly mysterious to me.”

  Anne wished for the confidence to argue further, but eventually decided to remain silent. Lady Catherine could never be argued out of anything she wished to do, or persuaded to act when she disliked a scheme.

  But there was one bright spot in her mother’s obstinacy- Lady Catherine had already convinced herself that it was proper to send a message to Mr. Croydon, the master of ceremonies for the Upper Assembly Rooms, announcing their arrival in Scarborough and asking to be added to the guest list for all the gatherings hosted there. Perhaps ‘asking’ for an invitation was not the correct phrasing, Anne thought. Lady Catherine’s missive to Mr. Croydon was more akin to a royal command.

  It was shortly before dinner that they received Mr. Croydon’s answer, and Lady Catherine looked satisfied as she read the note and refolded it. “Well, Anne, I hope you are not ill from traveling,” she said. “We are to go to the Assembly ball tomorrow.”

  Anne allowed herself to smile.

  CHAPTER six

  As she dressed for the ball, Anne was assailed by nervousness. She knew how to behave, and was well-practiced at several popular dances, having continued to rehearse the steps in secret long after Lady Catherine had dismissed Signor Bellini from the house for some imagined slight.

  But Anne had had little opportunity to go into society, and wondered what awaited her at the Upper Assembly Rooms. Would anyone dare speak to her, or would they be driven away by Lady Catherine’s forthright chaperonage? Would it be a terrible crush of vulgar persons? Would she be stared at?- her new gown was very becoming, and in her opinion, it was not possible to be too finely dressed at a gathering such as this, but she could not say if people might stare anyway.

  It was all very worrisome; her hands trembled slightly as she was handed in to the carriage, and she couldn’t even tell herself it was due to the cold. The evening was warm and kissed by only the gentlest breeze; Anne had worn a cloak at Mrs. Jenkinson’s bidding but hardly needed it.

  The Upper Assembly Rooms were in Queen Street, not far f
rom Number Twelve, and as Anne entered the atrium in Lady Catherine’s train, she began to hope that the gathering would not be hopelessly vulgar. She had seen a few carriages that could only have been hired for the evening, but on the whole, most of the equipages were quite respectable. The rooms themselves were well-appointed and as Anne looked about the entrance hall, she saw that her fellow ball-goers were behaving as well as anyone might expect. There was no dashing about, no crude halloo-ing of their friends, and everyone was dressed neatly and in what she thought might be the fashion.

  Lady Catherine, of course, thought it all absurd. “Do not plan to stay the entire night in this company, Anne,” she said as the entered the larger of the two ballrooms. “Such a group of shabby-genteel persons I’ve rarely seen gathered in one place- complete mushrooms, all of them; I’m sure of it.”

  “Not all of them, Your Ladyship,” Anne said quietly. “See, there is Georgiana, talking with Mrs. Hurst. Both of them look very well tonight, do they not?”

  Lady Catherine, not finding anything to criticize in either lady’s appearance, merely harrumphed. “I shall sit with the other dowagers, I suppose. You may tell Georgiana to come to me when she escapes from that woman. And remember not to overexert yourself; it would not do to become ill when we’ve only been in residence for two days.”

  Anne assented to all of this advice and once she’d seen her mother settled upon the best chair and holding court among the chaperones in her usual fashion, she went to meet Georgiana.

  Her cousin was delighted to see her. “Oh, Anne, I so hoped Lady Catherine would allow you to join us! It is not, of course, the very highest society,” she said glancing about the room, “but I think we shall enjoy ourselves very respectably tonight.”