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Authors: Lucy Muir

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“Only the view from the bow is better than the view from
here, I believe,” Shelley said as he showed Elisabeth where to hold on to the
mast. Elisabeth looked dubiously at the large mainsail billowing to port and
started as the heavy boom creaked.

“You are safe here at this time,” Shelley assured Elisabeth.
“The boom will not swing this way. I often come to stand at the mainmast or bow
and allow my mind to empty of all but the wind and sky and sea. Only do not
come without my permission,” he added with his characteristic sweet smile, “for
at times it can indeed be dangerous.”

He pulled a chunk of his ever-present bread from his trouser
pocket and tore off a piece, holding it out to Elisabeth. “It is good to eat
some plain bread while you are at sea, Miss Ashwood, it will help keep you from
becoming seasick.”

Elisabeth took the bread, her fingers brushing his in the
process. She felt her hand tingle at the touch and looked away over the
bowsprit of the sloop, conscious of the power of the large wind-filled sails to
her port. She munched on the dry bread as she stood in silence with Shelley,
gazing out at the vast reaches of water that stretched beyond the cliffs edging
the bay. Elisabeth turned slightly to starboard so she could not see the cliffs
but only the sea. In an instant she seemed to be in another world, one composed
only of the sight, sound, smell and taste of water, wind and sky. On impulse
she untied and removed her bonnet, the better to feel the salt breeze, dangling
it at her side as her soft brown curls teased loose from her pins and whipped
about her face. She felt Shelley’s presence beside her and tuned to smile her
pleasure.

“You feel it too,” Shelley said softly, his intense gaze
meeting hers. “You understand. I knew you were a kindred soul. You feel one
with the sky and sea and long to sail out and soar across the vast oceans
forever and never return.”

“Yes,” Elisabeth agreed, for truly under the enchantment of
the moment she desired nothing more. Suddenly Shelley bent forward and his lips
were upon hers. It seemed utterly natural and somehow inevitable and Elisabeth
melted into the embrace, her soft lips parting at the touch of the poet’s. For
endless seconds the kiss seemed to join her soul with Shelley’s in an eternal
spiritual yet physical union.

Suddenly sloop’s bow plunged into a trough between waves and
Shelley’s lips were separated from hers as he shifted to keep his balance. It
was enough to allow common sense to dispel the mists of desire and Elisabeth
pulled back, dropping her gaze to the deck as she felt the color mount to her
cheeks. Shelley raised one long-fingered hand to brush a blowing curl from
Elisabeth’s face and at the touch she looked up and their gazes locked. Joined
in their mutual love of the sea, Elisabeth longed to lean against his tall form
and feel the strength of his arms around her. She knew she would do whatever
Shelley wished and in a flash of understanding realized how a woman could lose
her reputation in one unguarded moment. Elisabeth drew back a step in
involuntary alarm, glancing uneasily behind to the stern of the sloop. Molly
still rested, eyes closed. Earlywine stood at the helm, although his attention
was in another direction where ships were visible on the skyline. Sherbourne
was not in sight and Elisabeth felt a wave of relief that he was still below.

The spell broken, Elisabeth was shocked by her behavior,
wondering how she could have allowed the poet to take such liberties. Yet at
the same time she knew how easily one could succumb to the free spirit that was
Shelley. Nor was she the only one, Elisabeth thought ruefully, remembering the
words of Lord Sherbourne, Lady Parker and Mrs. Shelley herself. The rumors
about the poet’s many conquests must be true. She must regain control of her
senses and remain impervious to Shelley’s appeal. Her heart was Sherbourne’s
and Shelley belonged to Mary, her friend. What a narrow escape she had had, and
how fortunate it was that Sherbourne had not seen her as he came up from the
cabin below.

“I must have seafaring blood,” Elisabeth said lightly in an
effort to return the mood to normalcy, “for the sea calls to me in a way I will
not forget.”

Shelley smiled and in his eyes Elisabeth read his knowledge
of his both his effect upon her and her susceptibility to him. But he said
only, “We must tack again before long, so please allow me to escort you back to
your seat.”

As Shelley helped Elisabeth back into the stern of the sloop
Sherbourne came back on deck. “Have you any orders, Captain?” Sherbourne asked
Shelley.

“It is time to relieve Mr. Earlywine,” Shelley stated.
“Would you like to take a turn at the tiller, Miss Ashwood?”

“Oh, might I?” Elisabeth asked, all that had just passed
between the poet and herself retreating to the back of her mind.

“I think you might. Sherbourne, come and instruct Miss
Ashwood on how to steer a sloop,” Shelley ordered.

Agreeably, Sherbourne stood at Elisabeth’s side at the helm
and explained how one pushed the tiller in the opposite direction one wished to
go and that small adjustments made large corrections. But, although Lord
Sherbourne was courteous to Elisabeth, she felt he seemed a bit more distant
than he had been. Surely he could not have seen Shelley kiss her? Elisabeth
asked herself fearfully, flushing in remembrance of her lapse. No, she decided,
it must be her guilty conscience at what had passed between herself and the
poet.

 

That evening an exhausted but happy Elisabeth returned to the
inn and was pleased to find Mary Shelley sitting with Lady Parker, quite
recovered and the color back in cheeks.

“I am happy to see you looking so well,” Elisabeth said,
going to kiss her friend’s cheek. “I do hope you shall be able to go with us
tomorrow.”

“Yes, I hope I shall,” Mary agreed. “Did you enjoy your
first experience of the sea and sailing?”

“Excessively,” Elisabeth replied, willing herself not to
blush as memories of a few minutes of that experience passed through her mind.
“Although I do not think Molly enjoyed it very much. She appeared to suffer
from the motion.”

“I am sorry your maid felt ill. Perhaps it will not be
necessary for her to go again tomorrow. But now we had best dress for our
evening meal,” Lady Parker commented as the gentlemen entered the room. “Dinner
has already been ordered.”

Elisabeth and Lady Parker walked together upstairs to their
chambers.

“I am so sorry you missed going sailing today,” Elisabeth
said to Lady Parker as they paused at the door of Elisabeth’s chamber. “It was
truly a wonderful experience.”

“We shall hope we may go with you tomorrow,” Lady Parker
agreed, “although we also had a pleasant day. Mrs. Shelley recovered by noon
and we spent the afternoon visiting shops and walking upon the sands.”

“How do you find Mrs. Shelley?” Elisabeth asked tentatively.

“I find her very interesting,” Lady Parker admitted. “Mrs.
Shelley has a sweet nature combined with a sharp intelligence, and she is quite
beautiful, of course. I quite understand her charm and appeal. But I still
cannot fully approve the connection, for both she and Mr. Shelley have chosen
to live outside polite society. Once you are married it is your husband’s place
to guide your friendships but I am responsible for your reputation until the
marriage has taken place. You are yet too young to be forgiven fast connections
should they become known.”

“No one will discover our friendship,” Elisabeth promised.
“Lord Sherbourne has always been careful of our meeting places and our times in
their company.”

“I hope you have the right of it,” Lady Parker responded.
“Now we had best hasten and dress or we will keep the others waiting for their
dinner.”

Chapter Nine

 

“I must confess that sailing in such a small craft is most
invigorating,” Lady Parker observed to Elisabeth as the
Swallow
moved swiftly
through the waves their second day in Lyme. “It is quite different than taking
passage upon an East Indiaman. One feels so very close to the elements.”

“Yes, there is nothing to compare to it,” Mary Shelley
concurred.

Brisk breezes had greeted the sailing party on their second
day out. To Elisabeth’s great relief, although Mrs. Shelley was again disturbed
by a slight illness that morning, it was not great enough that it prevented her
joining the others on the sloop. Elisabeth wished to avoid any occasions alone
with Shelley and the presence of six persons on the small thirty-five-foot
yacht ensured her wish would be granted. Molly, who did not wish to experience
another day of seasickness, had chosen to remain behind.

As she gazed out over the bay, Elisabeth could not credit
how she had come to allow the poet to take such liberties the previous day. Yet
at the time it had not felt so much a dalliance as a spiritual meeting of two
like souls united in their love of the sea. How could she have so easily
forgotten both Mary Shelley and Lord Sherbourne, she wondered? Truly the poet
had an uncommon effect upon women. Even Lady Parker was not entirely immune,
Elisabeth realized, noting abstractedly that Lord Sherbourne’s sister was
watching Shelley with close attention as the poet stood at the helm. Once again
the captaincy of the sloop had transformed the dreamy poet into an adventurer
and a forceful figure of command.

This second day Shelley steered the yacht farther out in the
bay, allowing both Elisabeth and Lady Parker an opportunity to stand at the
helm and issue commands, prompted by the poet. By the time they returned to
their mooring at the Cobb everyone was quite tired out and they gladly retired
to their respective rooms for a rest.

After an hour’s slumber in their chamber Lady Parker and
Elisabeth ventured downstairs to the main room of the inn, where they found
Lord Sherbourne and Mr. Earlywine sharing a bottle of claret.

“Since we find you gentlemen at your leisure,” Lady Parker
said after greeting her brother and his friend, “we shall press you for your
company for a walk about the town while Miss Ashwood and I explore the shops.
Unless you have other arrangements with Mr. Shelley,” she added.

“Mrs. Shelley is still recovering from the exertions of the
day and Shelley is with her,” Lord Sherbourne elucidated. “But Earlywine and I
shall accompany you and Miss Ashwood with great pleasure.”

The shops along the narrow cobbled street displayed many
interesting items and the two women were often tempted inside as they made
their way down the main thoroughfare. Elisabeth had a delightful time
purchasing several interesting fossils and other items as gifts for her family
and her friend, Jane Fairacre. She was debating whether to purchase a
particularly fine but dear ammonite for her brother in one shop when a
well-dressed woman who had entered the shop a few minutes previously looked
their direction.

“Lady Parker, what a pleasure to see you here,” the woman
said, walking up to Sherbourne’s sister. “Miss Ashwood, good day. I see you are
inspecting the fossils. This shop has the finest specimens. I highly recommend
it.”

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Fortescue, and thank you for your
advice,” Elisabeth replied politely.

“It is indeed a pleasure to encounter you, Mrs. Fortescue,”
Lady Parker added, although Elisabeth saw a flash of apprehension cross the
older woman’s face and knew the encounter was not a welcome one. “Do you
holiday here in Lyme with your daughters?”

“Yes, they are quite set upon searching the cliffs for
‘tests’ although why they are interested in what I am told are fossilized sea
creatures I am do not fully understand,” Mrs. Fortescue replied, breaking off
as Lord Sherbourne and Mr. Earlywine, who had tarried outside to speak to a
fisherman for a moment, entered the shop.

“Mrs. Fortescue,” Lord Sherbourne said with a bow, “what a
pleasure to meet you here in Lyme.”

“Lord Sherbourne, Mr. Earlywine,” Mrs. Fortescue
acknowledged with a speculative gleam in her eye. “Perhaps our parties might
join for an excursion to the cliffs on the morrow? I know Susan and Judith
would be delighted to have Miss Ashwood’s company,” she finished, although her
glance went to the gentlemen and not Elisabeth as she proffered the invitation.

“It would indeed be delightful but I am afraid we are to
leave in the morning,” Lady Parker responded. “We are only searching for a few
last gifts to take home. I wish Miss Fortescue and Miss Judith Fortescue much
success in their fossil search.”

After a few more polite exchanges Mrs. Fortescue departed.
Elisabeth paid for her selections and the four companions walked slowly up the
street toward their inn. Lady Parker, who had been unusually silent since the
meeting with Mrs. Fortescue, suddenly gave vent to her feelings in tones of
suppressed agitation.

“I knew it was not well-considered to come here to Lyme for
this excursion, Richard! What a narrow escape we had—suppose the Shelleys had
been with us! It would have been Miss Ashwood’s ruin!”

“But they were not and Miss Ashwood’s reputation is intact,
Charlotte,” her brother assured her. “We shall be leaving in the morning and we
shall not be traveling with the Shelleys. You need not fear our being
discovered.”

“Suppose Mrs. Fortescue and her family should come to our
inn for dinner while we are dining with the Shelleys tonight?” Lady Parker
fretted. “We are not as safe as you imply. I shall not rest again until we are on
the road back to London.”

“I am certain the Fortescues would stay at an inn closer to
the cliffs, Lady Parker,” James said reassuringly. “That is what my sisters and
I did we came to fossil hunt.”

“Perhaps that is the most likely,” Lady Parker agreed but
her worried expression did not leave her countenance until long after their
dinner was over and she and Elisabeth had retired safely to their chamber
without the Fortescues entering the inn.

 

The journey back to London passed uneventfully. The five
travelers, worn out from the unaccustomed exertions of their expedition, spoke
little. Elisabeth covertly watched Lord Sherbourne during the journey home,
trying to divine by his facial expressions and rare words whether he had seen
the kiss between Shelley and herself. But try as she might she could tell
nothing. The viscount spoke less than he had their trip down but no one else
spoke much either and Lord Sherbourne’s quieter demeanor might have been as
much from the rigors of their excursion as displeasure with her. Certainly he
was unfailingly courteous to her the few times they did speak. Overall,
Elisabeth decided as the miles passed, she was rather more reassured than not,
for surely if the viscount had seen her embrace with the poet he could not have
been so unruffled in manner, given his anger toward her after the visit to
Hampstead, where Shelley had only touched a lock of her hair. Had he seen the
kiss no doubt he would have been even more angered.

 

Once back in London Lord Sherbourne and Mr. Earlywine delivered
Lady Parker and Elisabeth to the town house on Half Moon Street and went their
separate ways. Lady Parker, declaring her intention to rest, instructed the
butler that she would not be receiving any callers for two days and retired to
the refuge of her bedchamber.

Elisabeth was at first grateful for the time to recover from
the tiring journey and the opportunity to write a long letter to Jane about
their Lyme excursion but when Lord Sherbourne, who usually walked over to his
sister’s town house daily, did not appear in Lady Parker’s drawing room the
second morning, Elisabeth began to wonder why. Might he have seen Shelley’s
kiss after all? She had been somewhat reassured by his courtesy to her on the
return journey but now she recalled that the small looks of understanding she
had become accustomed to exchange with the viscount during their conversations
had been lacking, as had the occasional touches of his hand when they had a
moment unobserved by others. Had he only been tired or abstracted? Or had he
been brooding over the kiss? Elisabeth sighed involuntarily as she pretended to
work on a piece of embroidery.

“What is it that causes you to sigh so dolefully?” Lady
Parker inquired from behind her desk where she sat going through her post. The
older woman was wearing one of her new gowns from Madame Parenteau, an
ivory-colored gown with wide bands of multihued embroidery around the sleeves
and neckline.

“I was only wondering why Lord Sherbourne has not called
since we returned,” Elisabeth admitted.

“No doubt my brother had business to take care of after
being away several days,” Lady Parker commented as she continued to sort
through her accumulation of bills. “Richard has had much to concern himself
with since his unexpected accession to the viscountcy. He hopes to have all in
order before the end of the summer so that he may remove to the country to take
over the full running of the estate.

“But,” she finished with a smile, “I have no doubt Richard
will call soon—indeed he must call tonight, for we are attending the musicale
at Lady Havelock’s.”

“I had forgotten,” Elisabeth admitted, relieved that she
would see Lord Sherbourne soon. “Perhaps his grace will call this afternoon,”
Elisabeth added with a sidelong glance.

Lady Parker’s face lit with pleasure and Elisabeth thought
what a pity it was that Lady Parker felt she could not marry the duke when it
was evident she cared for him deeply.

“Perhaps,” the older woman acknowledged self-consciously. “I
must confess I have been hoping he would, and that is why I wore this new gown.
But in the event he does call, I should tell you that I did not inform his
grace who made up our party in Lyme, although I do dislike such evasions,” she
finished unhappily. “I have felt the need of too many these months since I returned
to England.”

“His grace the Duke of Norland,” the butler announced as
that personage entered the room.

Elisabeth, her own spirits higher now that she knew she
would see the viscount soon, dared to give a sly wink to her hostess.

After greeting the duke Elisabeth made her excuses and went
upstairs, both wishing to give Lady Parker and her caller some privacy and also
wishing to have Molly help her select a gown for the evening’s musicale.
Elisabeth felt it would be important to look well in order to demonstrate to
Lord Sherbourne that she cared to appear her best in his company. She must do
all she could to restore the rapport that had been growing between them before
they sailed on the
Swallow
.

 

Lady Havelock’s house on Berkeley Square was far grander
than Lady Parker’s modest residence on Half Moon Street and Elisabeth looked in
appreciation around the large room where the musicale was being held. A
delicate frieze circled the walls below the ceiling and a fine painting of a
mythological theme adorned the ceiling itself. Thick Axminster carpets
cushioned the floor and a fine gilt harp and exquisite pianoforte held pride of
place in the area set aside for the musicians.

“I see Lady Earlywine,” Lady Parker commented to her brother
as they entered the room. “Shall we take our place in the empty seats behind
their party?”

Lord Sherbourne ushered his sister and Miss Ashwood over to
the empty chairs behind the Earlywines’ but did not take a seat beside them.

“Please excuse me,” he addressed his sister. “I shall return
shortly but I see the Comtesse de Fleurille and her niece and I must speak to
Miss Thibeau about my portrait.”

Miss Thibeau again. As Elisabeth watched Lord Sherbourne
cross the room and make his respects to the comtesse before taking a chair behind
that of Miss Thibeau, all her hopes for the evening vanished.

“Miss Thibeau looks charmingly in that Pomona green gown,
does she not?” Miss Earlywine asked Elisabeth, turning to visit with her
friend. “I wish I had her countenance,” she added with a wistful look.

“Yes, Miss Thibeau does look very well in her gown,”
Elisabeth had to agree, thinking how well the artist also looked next to Lord
Sherbourne. The contrast of Miss Thibeau’s dark hair and Lord Sherbourne’s
light was arresting, as was the contrast of the viscount’s rather stern visage
and the artist’s animated features.

“James is having his likeness taken by Miss Thibeau, as is
Lord Sherbourne,” Miss Earlywine confided. “If it turns out well I may have
mine taken. Have you thought of having Miss Thibeau take your likeness, Miss
Ashwood? Perhaps we might go to sittings together. James tells me Miss Thibeau
keeps a rabbit in a cage in her studio and that it appears to be quite a pet.
How odd that is but I should quite like to see it.”

“Yes, it would be interesting to see the rabbit,” Elisabeth
agreed, “but I had not thought of having my likeness taken.” Not feeling in a
temper to hear more encomiums on the artist, Elisabeth turned the subject. But
she remained excruciatingly aware of the artist’s presence and the charming
smiles that lady bestowed on Lord Sherbourne. Why had she been concerned about
the possibility of Lord Sherbourne having witnessed Shelley’s kiss? No doubt
the viscount would not have minded in the least had he seen it, for clearly he
was more interested in Miss Thibeau than herself, Elisabeth thought sadly.

Lord Sherbourne returned to his seat beside Elisabeth before
the music began but Elisabeth failed to appreciate the excellence of the
musician’s playing as the delicate notes of a harp concerto by Handel filled
the room. Instead she sat feeling that the delicate pink gown she had chosen
for the evening thinking it looked well with her soft brown curls made her look
unappealingly young and ingenuous. How could Lord Sherbourne be attracted to
her when he had the obvious admiration of a charming and talented woman of the
world?

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