PoetsandPromises (3 page)

“I allow you are correct but that long title came forth so
unexpectedly. In truth I did find it diverting but not in a slighting way,”
Sherbourne defended himself as they walked the short distance back to the
viscount’s town house.

“You have political and literary interests yourself, you
always have, so why should you find it odd that Miss Ashwood has an interest in
those topics as well?”

“Come, Earlywine,” Sherbourne protested. “Would you not be
very surprised indeed if one of your sisters asked for such a book?”

“Yes, I should,” James confessed, “but in my sisters it
would be something out of the common. With Miss Ashwood it clearly is not.”

“Sometimes, James, I believe you should have gone into
politics,” Sherbourne commented. “You are wiser than you appear.

“Tell me, how may I recover from such a bad start?” he
asked, swinging his stick abstractedly as they walked along.

James thought for a few moments. “Was not your father a
friend of Leigh Hunt?” he asked in a seeming non sequitur.

“Yes, he was,” Sherbourne allowed, “and I corresponded with
him at long intervals while he was in prison. I have met him once since I
returned from India but—” he began and then broke off as he saw where his
friend was leading.

“You are brilliant, Earlywine! I shall persuade Hunt to
attend a dinner at my sister’s. It is the very thing! With Miss Ashwood’s
interest in Godwin’s work she must warm to me for making such an introduction!”

“See, it is not so difficult,” Earlywine laughed. “You may
see gratitude from Miss Ashwood yet, if not for your offer of marriage then for
introducing her to the literary set.”

“Your words put me in my place quite neatly but I accept
they are warranted,” Sherbourne replied. “I must confess that despite Miss
Ashwood’s diffidence I find her a very taking young woman, and it is very
humbling to find that one is apparently not admired by one’s intended wife.”

“Told you emotions are not that easy to dictate,” Earlywine
reminded his friend, satisfied that for once he had indeed put Sherbourne in
his place.

“I realize it is not the most acceptable thing for me to
ask, Miss Ashwood,” Lady Parker commented after the gentlemen had left the
drawing room, “but how did you find my brother after so many years? Much
changed, no doubt.”

“Yes, of course he appears much older,” Elisabeth concurred.
“But then my last memory of him was of being taken to task by him for hiding
behind a sofa to listen to the gentlemen talk while they drank their Port after
dinner. Truly I must confess I saw little of the young gentleman just finishing
Eton in the reserved gentleman he appears today,” she finished ruefully.

“I must agree that the conversation of the gentlemen after
dinner is superior to that of the women waiting in the drawing room,” Lady
Parker agreed. “Your preference at so young an age showed unusual
discrimination.

“But please do not judge my brother too hastily, Miss
Ashwood. India has the tendency to change people. It is a difficult life there
in the heat and dust and disease. Some India destroys but others she refines,
stripping them of all illusions. My brother is one of the latter, I believe.”

“I did not take Lord Sherbourne in dislike,” Elisabeth
assured her hostess. “It was only that the meeting was more awkward than I
expected—and that in itself I
should
have expected.”

Lady Parker smiled her agreement and excused herself to
consult with the cook about dinner. Revati deserted Elisabeth’s lap to follow
her mistress downstairs but Elisabeth remained seated in the drawing room for
several minutes, thinking over the meeting. If she were honest she would have
to admit that she wished it were Mr. Earlywine who had proposed a betrothal
with her instead of Lord Sherbourne. It was not that the viscount was not
well-looking or courteous. But he had indeed seemed reserved, and worse,
appeared to take her lightly. Still, the meeting had to have been awkward for
him as well. His own last memory of her was of a child of ten years who hid
behind furniture to eavesdrop on her elders!

Perhaps the dinner would go better, Elisabeth thought as she
rose to retire to her room for a while. How she wished she had Jane to discuss
her dilemmas with! Here in London she had no one. It simply would not do to
speak slightingly of Lord Sherbourne to his sister and Molly was too young and
entranced by the idea of her mistress marrying an earl to understand.

But she did have one outlet! Inspiration striking, Elisabeth
hurried to her bedchamber to find her letter-case. Hastily unrolling it, she
took out paper and pen and sent Molly to procure some ink. She could not speak
to Jane but she could write to her.

“My dear Jane,” she began writing as soon as Molly returned
with the ink, “I arrived at Lady Parker’s town house on Half Moon Street this
afternoon…” An hour later Elisabeth sanded the letter and sent Molly to leave
it with the others to be franked, feeling much better for having shared her
thoughts and concerns with her friend.

“What will you wear for dinner, Miss Elisabeth?” Molly asked
her mistress later that evening.

“I think my white muslin with the green stole,” Elisabeth
replied, thinking that she did not have a great deal of choice. Although her
parents had supplied her with three new gowns, that was all they had been able
to afford in their distressed circumstances. Most of her gowns were several
years old, and although they were passable in a country setting, Elisabeth
suspected they would not be in London. Still, the white muslin was new and fresh
and the green stole looked well with her brown hair. She had a simple necklace
of pearls that would not look amiss, and with matching ear drops, Elisabeth
hoped she would pass muster.

Indeed, when Elisabeth entered the sitting room later that
evening to find the gentlemen already arrived, neither appeared to find her
appearance lacking. Both Lord Sherbourne and Mr. Earlywine made her pretty
compliments, bolstering her confidence. Elisabeth endeavored to speak more
often to Lord Sherbourne than she had in their initial meeting, and by the time
dinner was announced, she was feeling much more at ease.

Lord Sherbourne escorted Elisabeth into the dining room and
seated her at the right of his sister, across from Mr. Earlywine. Servants were
busy placing serving dishes on the table from which tantalizing, although
unfamiliar, odors arose.

“Have you an adventurous spirit, Mr. Earlywine?” Lady Parker
asked. “Finding that Miss Ashwood had a taste for some of my Indian sweets I
dared to risk having Cook prepare several dishes reminiscent of those we
consumed in India. If you would prefer plain English fare, I believe Cook has
included several of those dishes as well.”

“I have always enjoyed a good curry,” James assured Lady
Parker as he helped himself to the dish in front of his plate, “and shall be
most interested to sample other Indian dishes.”

Elisabeth helped herself to a dish of lamb in a savory sauce
that was in the serving plate before her and she found she enjoyed the spicy
meat dish quite as much as she had enjoyed the sweet the day before. She was
trying to determine precisely what spices had been used in the preparation of
the dish when she was addressed by Lord Sherbourne.

“Miss Ashwood, since you are conversant with the works of
John Godwin, may I also assume you are conversant with those of Leigh Hunt?”

Warily, wondering why Lord Sherbourne had introduced a topic
that had caused them discomfort that morning, Elisabeth agreed that she was. “I
have often read his newspaper,
The
Examiner
, Lord Sherbourne, and
it includes many pieces he has written himself.”

“I am acquainted with Mr. Hunt, as was my father,” Lord
Sherbourne explained, “and I am pleased to inform you we are the recipients of
an invitation to an afternoon at his home in Hampstead. Should you be pleased
to accompany me there?”

“Oh I should enjoy that above all things, Lord Sherbourne!
Thank you,” Elisabeth exclaimed, smiling at Lord Sherbourne with genuine
pleasure.

Sherbourne returned Elisabeth’s smile. “The invitation is
for Saturday next. I shall call for you in the carriage at half-past two
o’clock.”

“I shall be ready,” Elisabeth promised with another smile.
“It is extremely kind of you to obtain the invitation. I shall look forward to
it excessively.” Finding that Lord Sherbourne’s visage no longer appeared as
remote as she had imagined it to be that morning, for the first time since
arriving in London Elisabeth felt that the marriage might not be as bad a thing
as she had feared.

Absorbed in their first genuine pleasure in each other’s
company, neither Elisabeth nor Lord Sherbourne noticed the look of concern that
crossed Lady Parker’s face at the turn the conversation had taken.

Sherbourne called at his sister’s early the next afternoon,
hoping to persuade Miss Ashwood to go for a drive and perhaps increase the
understanding that had begun to develop between them on the previous evening.
He remembered how Elisabeth’s eyes had sparkled, filled with animation and
interest instead of the careful politeness she had first exhibited during their
meeting. It had transformed her face from one of simple prettiness to a kind of
beauty and he was very glad he had taken the trouble to ride out to Hampstead
and speak to Hunt that afternoon.

But when he entered his sister’s drawing room he found her
alone except for Revati, who lay stretched out before the fire, enjoying its
warmth as much as his mistress.

“Where is Miss Ashwood, Charlotte?” he asked his sister. “I
thought to invite her for a drive this afternoon. The roads are clear of snow
and as the Park is near empty this time of year I thought we might have the
opportunity to become better acquainted.”

“I saw your tilbury coming up the street and set Miss
Ashwood to a task for me elsewhere,” Lady Parker confessed. “I wished to speak
to you alone. Please sit down.”

Sherbourne looked at his sister inquiringly as he took the
chair on the opposite side of the drawing room fire.

“Richard,” Lady Parker said with sudden resolution after a
moment of silence, “I understand why you have invited Miss Ashwood to join you
for the afternoon at Mr. Hunt’s—I realize the two of you did not get off to a
good beginning yesterday morning and that the invitation pleased her. But I am
not sure I should allow Miss Ashwood to accept your invitation.”

“What do you mean? Why should Miss Ashwood not go?” Lord
Sherbourne asked, feeling quick despair at the thought of having to disappoint
his betrothed’s hopes so soon after having raised them.

“Richard, Hunt’s set is a fast one,” Lady Parker said
slowly. “I am aware it includes Lord Byron and Mr. Shelley and many others who
would never be received in a proper London drawing room. I am responsible for
Miss Ashwood’s reputation and safety until she is married to you. It would do
her no good to gain a reputation of being fast.”

“Few members of the
ton
are ever seen at Hunt’s,
Charlotte,” Sherbourne pointed out to his sister, determined that Miss Ashwood
would not have to forgo the outing. “I had at first asked Hunt to come to a
dinner here but he countered with the invitation to one of his literary
afternoons and I could not refuse. A single afternoon visit to Hampstead is
unlikely to destroy Miss Ashwood’s reputation. Moreover, Byron is now in Italy
and Shelley married.”

“Yes, after his former wife drowned herself in Serpentine,
freeing Mr. Shelley to marry his mistress,” Lady Parker replied tellingly.
“Richard, you know I have the right of it. Hunt and his set could be dangerous
acquaintances for Miss Ashwood.”

Sherbourne lapsed into silence, giving due consideration to
his sister’s words. Was introducing Miss Ashwood to the literary set a danger
to her reputation? He had to acknowledge there was a risk, however small,
should she be seen in their company. But still he could not bring himself to
give up the idea, as it was the only thing that had given him any hope of
reaching a better understanding with his intended.

“I truly do not believe anyone will come to know of one
afternoon spent at Hunt’s home in Hampstead,” Sherbourne stated after several
minutes of quiet reflection, appreciating his sister’s rare ability to allow
silence to reign when it was appropriate. “Even if it should become known, a
single visit in the afternoon in company with so many others would surely not
harm Miss Ashwood’s reputation irreparably.

“And I would have thought that you, of all people,
Charlotte, would have understood that those who are a bit different and do not
conform to all of society’s mores may have reputations that are not entirely
deserved,” he added in a quieter tone.

His sister’s face paled. “That was unkind, Richard. I would
not have thought it of you.”

Immediately remorseful, Sherbourne knelt on the floor next
to his sister’s chair and took her hand. “Forgive me, Charlotte. I spoke out of
turn, disliking the thought of having to give up the one thing I have done that
appeared to earn Miss Ashwood’s approbation. You cannot have failed to notice
that we did not renew our acquaintance well yesterday morning. Please allow me
this chance to establish a rapport with Miss Ashwood. I cannot fail to marry
her now—honor demands I go through with it whether we suit or not—but it would
be an uncomfortable beginning to a marriage if we return to the coolness that
marked our first meeting.”

“Very well, Richard,” Charlotte said quietly, pressing her
brother’s hand to let him know she had forgiven him. “I agree to the afternoon
in Hampstead, although it is against my better judgment. But you must promise
me that if I hear the least rumor about Miss Ashwood you will end the
acquaintance immediately, at least so far as she is concerned.”

“I promise, Charlotte,” Lord Sherbourne said, rising,
pleased that he had convinced his sister to allow the visit. “Now please have
Miss Ashwood summoned that I may invite her out for a drive in the Park.”

During the three days between Lord Sherbourne’s receipt of
the invitation to Hampstead and its fulfillment, Elisabeth found that her
feelings toward Lord Sherbourne continued to warm until she began to hope that
there was a possibility of her becoming quite fond of the viscount and of
having a marriage that was, if not a love match, at least a comfortable
partnership. She began to see him in a positive light, acknowledging his many
good points. He was a well-looking man, was of good if somewhat reserved and
stern character, and when he chose to be he was an excellent conversationalist.
During their drive in the Park the viscount had endeavored to draw her out and
question her about her life at Thornhill and she in turn had been fascinated
when he opened up enough to share a few stories of his life at the remote East
India Company station in India. But most of all, it was the invitation to
Hampstead that softened Elisabeth toward her future betrothed. To meet Leigh
Hunt and possibly other great literary men such as Hazlitt or Lamb! How Jane
and Reverend Fairacre would enjoy hearing of such a meeting! What a long letter
she would have to write.

When the day of the excursion finally arrived, Elisabeth was
in a state of mixed pleasurable anticipation and anxiety, looking forward to
meeting Mr. Hunt but also fearing that her scholarly accomplishments would
appear few indeed in such company.

“Lady Parker, what gown would be appropriate to wear to a
literary gathering?” Elisabeth asked as she entered the drawing room on the morning
of the promised Saturday excursion.

“I believe that any of your afternoon gowns would do,” Lady
Parker said, raising her head from a book with an indulgent smile at
Elisabeth’s eagerness. “I doubt the company there will place as much attention
on attire as the
ton
, given they are at pains to disagree with society
on most particulars.

“I am pleased you are looking forward to your outing this
afternoon,” she added slowly, “but I should perhaps confess I was not in favor
of it.”

“Why is that?” Elisabeth asked curiously, sitting next to
the cat at the other end of the sofa and automatically stroking Revati’s long
silky fur.

“The literary set is considered fast,” Lady Parker
explained, closing her book and setting it aside in order to give Elisabeth her
full attention. “Several of their members are not received by polite company,
although some are,” she added fairly. “I am responsible for you and your
reputation while you reside in my home and there is a danger, however small, of
your reputation being damaged by being introduced to Mr. Hunt and his friends.
For that reason I must ask that you not to mention this outing to anyone in
London outside our immediate family and Mr. Earlywine, of course, who already
knows of it. And I trust your maid’s discretion is to be relied upon?”

“I shall do as you request, Lady Parker,” Elisabeth agreed,
glad the prohibition would not prevent her writing to Jane about it, as writing
to her friend about the meeting was something she anticipated withalmost as much pleasure as the visit to Hampstead itself. “And
Molly will not speak of it to anyone if I so request.”

“I should caution you also,” Lady Parker added, “not to take
offense at any quirks of behavior you might meet with there. My brother has
told me that Mr. Hunt, and Mr. Hazlitt as well, should he chance to be present,
may at times be rather prickly and rude.”

“That surprises me,” Elisabeth confessed. “One would think
those of a literary turn of mind would be serious, sober and thoughtful in
their speech and actions.”

“I believe it to be quite the opposite from what my brother
has told me,” Lady Parker said dryly. “Were it as you imagine, no doubt the
members of the literary set would be entirely accepted in society.”

“That is true,” Elisabeth acknowledged, much struck, but on
the whole Lady Parker’s warnings and cautions increased rather than deterred
her interest.

“I must go and dress now or I shall not be ready when Lord
Sherbourne arrives,” Elisabeth added with a glance at the ornate ormolu mantel
clock.

Later that afternoon Elisabeth at last found herself seated
in Lord Sherbourne’s carriage passing the rolling hills of Hampstead. Molly sat
quietly next to her mistress, apparently unaffected by the outing, but
Elisabeth’s nervousness increased with each turn of the carriage wheels. She
hoped that she had at least selected a proper gown to wear. After much internal
debate Elisabeth had chosen a fawn-colored afternoon dress topped with a brown
pelisse and matching hat, both trimmed in a darker brown, hoping the ensemble
was an acceptable compromise between the extremes of too casual and too
elaborate a toilette.

“I must confess that I am quite at a loss what to expect
this afternoon,” Elisabeth ventured.

“I do not believe anyone ever knows exactly what to expect
at one of Hunt’s literary afternoons,” Lord Sherbourne answered dryly. “Hunt is
rarely alone, for he delights in gathering the most acute minds around him. One
never knows who one will meet at his home—Charles Lamb, Thomas Peacock,
Hazlitt, Wordsworth. But he is also rather argumentative, and you must not mind
if discussions become rather heated.”

“Lady Parker warned me their behavior might be rather
unconventional,” Elisabeth confided, her interest growing.

“Not everyone is difficult,” Lord Sherbourne added. Mrs. Hunt
is a very hospitable, comfortable woman, and their home is always open to their
friends.”

The carriage began to slow and Elisabeth looked out the
window with interest. The house and grounds of the residence they were
approaching appeared rather shabby, as though their state of repair was not of
the highest importance in the lives of the owners. Yet the house had a
comfortable country look, as though it was well lived in.

The carriage stopped and the driver clambered down and
opened the carriage door before going to attend to the horses. Lord Sherbourne
helped Elisabeth alight, as no servant came to assist them. Nor was the house
door opened at their approach. Lord Sherbourne knocked upon it with his stick
and a few moments later the door was flung open to reveal a short, motherly
looking woman with a large smile and two young children hanging at her skirts.

“Sherbourne, welcome to our home. We have seen you too
little since your return. Do come in,” she said in welcoming tones that matched
her smile. She turned her attention to Elisabeth. “And this is the young lady
you spoke of?”

“Miss Ashwood, may I present Mrs. Hunt.”

“Welcome to our home, Miss Ashwood. Come in, come in. We are
sufficiently rural to provide the peace and quiet necessary for reflection but
not too far from the few benefits of town such as music and conversation.”

“Your maid must come with me to the kitchen,” Mrs. Hunt
continued as she turned to lead them down the hall, “the cat has new kittens
that are so very sweet and she will enjoy visiting with my Polly. Sherbourne,
you and Miss Ashwood may join our other guests in the parlor.”

Mrs. Hunt waved her new guests into a large chamber opening
off the small hall and bustled on down the hall with Molly trailing behind.
Elisabeth and Sherbourne entered a rather messy room where papers and books
were strewn about everywhere. There was no order to the furniture and
everything but the books and papers was covered with a heavy layer of dust. A
short gentleman with sideburns came striding into the room from another doorway
at the far side.

“Sherbourne, the very person I need to take my side in my
discussion with Hazlitt and Peacock on the future of the Company in India. Your
presence determined our topic of the day but we could not wait for your arrival
to begin.” He turned to Elisabeth. “You must be Miss Ashwood, the admirer of
Godwin? She is a little brown wren, Sherbourne. Small, brown and sweet.
Charming. She can stay here with the Shelleys, Shelley is also an admirer of
Godwin.”

Hunt spoke so rapidly that Elisabeth had no opportunity to
reply. Remembering Lady Parker’s warnings of possible unconventional behavior,
Elisabeth stayed silent and tried to appear unsurprised at his manner.

“Shelley is a poet,” Hunt continued, turning to Elisabeth.
“In my mind he bids fair to outlast Byron, although Society is not yet of my
opinion. Come and meet him and decide for yourself,” he ordered, striding from
the room.

Lord Sherbourne and Elisabeth obediently followed their host
into a smaller sitting room on the other side of the hall. It contained less
clutter than the larger room but equal amounts of dust. Elisabeth noticed two
people sitting on a sofa near a fire and a stout young gentleman sat in a
corner reading a book. Hunt ushered them toward the stout young man. “You must
meet my newest protégé. Sherbourne, John Keats. John, the Earl of Sherbourne
and his brown wren—excuse me, my dear, I forgot your name,” Hunt said to
Elisabeth, surprising her by pausing and waiting for a response.