PoetsandPromises (19 page)

Elisabeth had indeed not seen the Shelleys or any other
persons of the literary set since the day she and Lady Parker had lost their
vouchers to Almack’s and had assumed she might never see them again. She was
therefore surprised to hear Lord Sherbourne offering her the choice of
attending, but then she supposed that a private gathering in the country at
Marlow would be unlikely to be glimpsed by any of the
ton
. Elisabeth
felt pleasurable anticipation at the thought of seeing Mary once again, along
with a less admirable desire to flaunt those who had condemned her for her
friendship with the poet’s wife.

“One may as lief be hung for a sheep as a lamb,” Elisabeth
commented. “And the invitation is no doubt meant kindly. It would seem churlish
to refuse.”

“Very well,” Lord Sherbourne said, “I concur. I shall send
an acceptance directly.”

Midsummer’s day dawned balmy and sweet with no threat of
rain or wind and Elisabeth found herself looking forward to the dinner at
Marlow with great anticipation. At least there she would be free from the
disapproving looks she still encountered even when riding in the park with Lady
Parker and the Duke of Norland. Since she and Lord Sherbourne were to be the
guests of honor, Elisabeth chose her dress with care, selecting a gown of
pale-blue silk trimmed in embroidery of a darker blue. Molly arranged her hair
in a new style, drawing curls up in bunches at the back of Elisabeth’s head and
then adorning them with dark-blue silk ribbons and feathers. Viewing herself in
the cheval glass, Elisabeth felt she looked well enough for a guest of honor.
However, remembering the gardens and woods of Marlow, Elisabeth forewent her
silk slippers and instead chose a sturdy pair of kid shoes.

When she descended the stairs early that evening after Lord
Sherbourne’s arrival, Elisabeth knew by the brief yet thorough glance the
viscount bestowed on her that for once she did not look like the brown wren Mr.
Hunt had termed her. She was equally impressed with the appearance of the
viscount, for the stark severity of his conventional black coat, white linen
shirt, black breeches and buff waistcoat suited his rugged, tanned visage. Lady
Parker added her approval of Elisabeth’s appearance and Molly draped a light
shawl about her mistress’ shoulders before the three left.

As Lord Sherbourne’s town carriage approached the Shelleys’
house at Marlow, Mary, energetic as ever despite her now large figure, ran
forward to embrace Elisabeth as soon as Lord Sherbourne handed her down from
the carriage.

“I am so pleased you came,” Mrs. Shelley said into
Elisabeth’s ear. “I was not certain you would, for of course we heard of your
humiliation when your vouchers to Almack’s were taken away. Did you mind
dreadfully?”

“No,” Elisabeth answered honestly. “Although I was
distressed to cause Lady Parker such anxiety, given that she felt responsible
for my disgrace.”

“But I daresay all is forgiven now that Lady Parker is to
wed the Duke of Norland,” Mrs. Shelley commented shrewdly as she led Elisabeth
toward the house, Molly following.

“Yes, of course,” Elisabeth said and then laughed, the
amusing side of her “disgrace” striking her. Mrs. Shelley joined in, her clear
laugh ringing through the warm evening air with an infectious gaiety.

“One weathers disgrace, as I know, but it is at times
difficult,” Mary commiserated when their mirth ceased. “One must remember what
is important in life, and I assure you it is not the opinions of others.

“But now you must come in,” Mary Shelley said, drawing
Elisabeth through the front door of Albion House. “We have prepared a feast for
you and Lord Sherbourne with all our friends invited, for feasting has no joy
with no one to share it.”

Inside Elisabeth found the drawing room was filled with the
people she had met at the Hunts’ and at the Shelleys’ before: John Keats,
Thomas Peacock, Hazlitt, Claire Clairmont with her baby Allegra, Shelley, Mr.
and Mrs. Hunt and a woman who was introduced to her as Mrs. Hunt’s sister, Bess.
Mary urged everyone into the dining room where Elisabeth saw a table laden with
roast fowl, savories and other tantalizing dishes, as well as the loaves of
bread and platters of dried fruit on which Mr. Shelley subsisted. Glasses were
filled with the diners’ choice of water or a white wine and Elisabeth and Lord
Sherbourne were toasted repeatedly before the guests got down to the business
of eating. Mr. Hunt, who considered any meal a failure if it was not
accompanied by a lively discussion, chose to introduce the topic of love
unbound by marital ties.

“You are up to your usual tricks, introducing such a topic
at a betrothal feast,” his wife reprimanded him, glancing apologetically at
Lord Sherbourne and Elisabeth.

“Nonsense, Sherbourne does not mind,” Hunt insisted.

“Who are you to be a proponent of love free of marital ties,
in any event,” objected Hazlitt, “when you are yourself a model of wedded
bliss, if such a state may be said to exist?”

“It is true I am supremely happy with my Marianne and seek
no embraces out of the marital bed,” Hunt agreed, putting his arm around his
wife’s plump shoulders and squeezing her affectionately. “But I will defend the
right of those who wish not to be so bound to follow their own codes of
morality.”

“At least you are consistent,” Shelley spoke up. “Godwin
pretended to advocate free love and then opposed Mary’s affection for me—until
we were married last December, after which he wished to become reconciled,”
Shelley finished with disgust. “I despise a hypocrite above all things.”

“I have long felt you are too hard on Godwin,” Hunt
objected, always happy to take the opposing side in any disputation. “Mary is
his daughter—you cannot expect a man to be rational about his own daughter. He
has an instinct to protect her.”

“If one’s beliefs are true one must follow them at all
times, not only when one is pleased to do so. I believe love is a law unto
itself—beyond all rights of man to constrain it,” Shelley stated passionately.

“What do you say, Peacock?” Hunt asked, seeking to continue
the argument.

“I say that at this moment I am more interested in the
contents of my plate,” Peacock replied in mild tones.

“Hear, hear!” Keats seconded.

The other guests laughed at Hunt’s failed attempt to keep
the topic going and conversation veered to other subjects. Elisabeth noted that
Lord Sherbourne seemed to be enjoying himself as he entered the discussions but
she, shy of offering her thoughts in such exalted company, simply listened
while she sipped at her wine. Elisabeth found she quite the liked the light
delicate flavor of the clear wine, not too dry or too sweet, reminding her of
rushing brooks and new green vegetation. Keats, seated to her right, noticed
that Elisabeth was enjoying the wine and, approving of any enjoyment of good
food and drink, took it upon himself to keep her glass filled.

When everyone was replete from the feast Mary Shelley stood
and tapped the edge of her knife on her plate to capture the guests’ attention.
“It is time for us to celebrate the coming of the solstice with a fire,” she
announced. “Let us adjourn to the glade.”

The guests all trooped out to the small woods, in the center
of which was an open glade where a bonfire had been prepared. The guests seated
themselves on rugs that had been spread around the edges of the fire, all
except for Elisabeth and Lord Sherbourne, whom Mary led to two chairs that had
been draped with lengths of green cloth. While Lord Sherbourne and Elisabeth
took their places on their makeshift thrones, Mary motioned for her husband to
light the bonfire. While the flames took hold Mary picked up two circlets of
entwined flowers.

“Now we shall crown the King and Queen of Midsummer,” she
proclaimed, advancing to Elisabeth and Lord Sherbourne and placing the flower
circlets atop their heads. “Subjects, you must make your obeisance and declare
fealty,” she added, curtseying gracefully before Lord Sherbourne and Elisabeth
and placing a flower on the ground before them. The other guests willingly
entered into the playacting, lining up to bow before the royal couple, offering
variously a coin, a piece of food or a flower. After making their obeisances
the other guests returned to their places on the rugs where they reclined and
watched the flames of the midsummer fire as they conversed and sipped more
wine.

As the longest day slowly and regretfully gave up the sun’s
rays, Elisabeth began to have a feeling of unreality, fed by the strange
festivities and the unaccustomed amount of wine she had drunk. In the
lengthening shadows a heavy sensuality settled upon the air and Elisabeth
noticed that Hunt and his wife leaned into each other as they watched the dying
flames, as did Mary and Percy Shelley. Elisabeth watched Mary in envy as the
poet pulled his wife close and she rested her head upon his shoulder, a look of
utter contentment upon her face. Elisabeth glanced over to Sherbourne, longing
to be able to do the same, but even had they been seated nearer together she
doubted she would have dared to touch her betrothed, so deep was the gulf that
was now between them. Sitting on his pretend throne in his evening dress
Sherbourne looked truly regal, the flimsy crown of flowers accentuating rather
than taking away from his strong masculinity. How she wished she might feel
those strong arms holding her once again, the warmth of his body filling her
with longing for she knew not what. As pictures of herself once again in
Sherbourne’s arms filled her mind, Elisabeth was overcome with a longing to
smash through the wall he had erected between them. But how, how could she do
it? A memory of the advice Miss Thibeau had given her flashed into Elisabeth’s
thoughts. If there were ever a time she should try to follow the artist’s
advice and tempt and tantalize Lord Sherbourne this was it, but how?

Silence gradually fell on the group as the last rays of the
sun vanished and the eerie midsummer twilight crept in. Mary Shelley rose. “The
longest day has ended. It is time to take leave of the King and Queen of
Midsummer,” she announced. Taking the lead, she stood before Lord Sherbourne,
curtseyed, approached his “throne”, gave him a quick kiss on his lips,
curtseyed again and walked back toward Albion House, leaving the glade. One by
one the other guests followed Mary’s example, Marianne Hunt giving Sherbourne a
hearty buss as Leigh Hunt bestowed a chaste peck on Elisabeth’s cheek while he
murmured his good wishes in her ear. John Keats, greatly emboldened by the
wine, kissed Elisabeth full on her lips and then blushed, while Hazlitt and Mr.
Peacock contented themselves with saluting Elisabeth’s hand. Finally only two
guests remained, Claire Clairmont and Shelley himself. Claire walked forward
first, touching her lips to Lord Sherbourne’s, after which she ran after the
others back to the house.

Now only Shelley stood before Elisabeth and Lord Sherbourne.
The tall poet bowed ironically then stood a moment transfixing both with his
intense gaze, seeming to search their deepest hearts.

“Sherbourne, I wish you the best,” he spoke. “But those who
do not appreciate that which they have should willingly share it with others.
Love is a force that must be obeyed.”

So saying, the poet reached out to Elisabeth, pulling her up
from her throne and into his arms. He swept her into a tight embrace, his mouth
covering hers as he pressed the length of his body against her own. Stunned by
the poet’s audacity, Elisabeth began to pull away when she suddenly remembered
the advice of Evonne Thibeau. This was her chance! Here in this isolated glade,
empty of all others but the poet, she must tempt and tantalize Lord Sherbourne
by emulating Miss Thibeau’s flirtatious manner. Emboldened by the wine, knowing
she might never again have another such an opportunity, Elisabeth intentionally
pressed into the poet and wrapped her arms around him, knowing this action
would command Sherbourne’s attention and raise his passions. A moment later she
abruptly pushed away from the poet’s embrace and whirled to face Lord
Sherbourne. Provocatively, in the best imitation of the Frenchwoman that she
could give, Elisabeth boldly looked the viscount over from head to toe and then
ran her tongue lightly over her lips as Shelley vanished into the darkness.

Elisabeth waited, her breath caught in her throat, hoping
for a response, but Lord Sherbourne remained seated on his makeshift throne.
She wondered if she had lost all in her desperate gamble and only made herself
look foolish instead of provocative. As the moment seemed to stretch into an
agonizing eternity Elisabeth forced herself to walk forward, swaying her hips
in an exaggerated manner. She gave a mocking curtsey and then dared to raise
her eyes to the viscount’s. For a fraction of a second she saw naked longing
and desire before Sherbourne reached up and pulled her down into his lap,
covering her lips with his and enveloping her in a hard, punishing embrace that
immediately softened into an embrace of love and longing. Elisabeth’s heart
raced and her breath quickened as the viscount held her close, his love as
evident as his passion. She relaxed into his body, feeling she might faint from
the unaccustomed sensations whirling through her veins. He kissed her again,
briefly but fiercely, and then spoke into her ear.

“I think we had best leave the glade and return to Albion
House now or you will be ruined in truth,” he said quietly. “Come,” he added
gently, helping her up. Taking Elisabeth’s arm, led her out of the glade.

The small church was packed on the morning the Duke of
Norland and Lord Sherbourne were united to their chosen brides in the home
parish of Lady Parker and Lord Sherbourne. Those fortunate enough to have been
invited to attend were able to watch the entire ceremony from inside the church
and marvel at the beauty of the two brides. Lady Parker glowed in a shimmering
gown of peach silk that changed to gold and bronze with each movement of the
skirt. Miss Ashwood was demurely beautiful in a gown of blue silk overlaid with
white lace. Both brides looked up at their husbands with evident love, causing
envy to stir in the breasts of all the unmarried men present and many of the
married as well.