Saraband for Two Sisters (22 page)

I combed my hair, patting it into shape, hoping that he would ask to see me, but he didn’t.

A few days later he called again. This time I was alone and he asked if I would see him and I received him in the parlour.

‘I have to confess a little duplicity,’ he told me. ‘I learned that Sir Gervaise and his lady would not be at home today. So I called in the hope that you would be.’

‘You … wanted to see
me
then?’

I felt as though the sun had suddenly burst forth and was shining more brilliantly than it did in the summer and that the entire universe was singing with joy.

‘I wanted to talk to you rather specially.’

‘Yes?’ I asked breathlessly.

‘Pray sit down,’ he said. I sat on the window-seat and folded my hands in my lap. I dared not look at him in case I should betray my feelings.

‘I think,’ he said, ‘that we have become good friends. Do you agree?’

‘Oh, I do. Indeed I do.’

‘You exaggerated what I did on my first meeting. It was no more than any man would have done.’

‘I shall never forget that you risked your life for me.’

‘Oh, you must look at life rationally. Villains like that are always cowards. They attack women and children. Moreover, I was armed and I assure you I ran no risk. But what I was saying was that we have become friends. I have hesitated over this and perhaps I should have been wise to hesitate still further. You are very young, Angelet. I may use your christian name?’

‘Please do. I like you to.’

‘It is a charming name and may I say it suits you.’

‘Oh, please, you must not have too good an opinion of me. I shall never live up to it …’

I stopped short. I had made it sound as though we would be together. I was blushing hotly.

He ignored my outburst and said: ‘How old are you, Angelet?’

‘I shall be eighteen in June.’

He sighed. ‘That is very young. Do you know how old I am?’

‘I hadn’t thought of age in connection with you.’

‘What a charming thing to say! It is good, too, because I am considerably older than you are. I shall be thirty-four years of age in September. You see, there is a great difference in our ages.’

‘Does that matter with … friends?’

‘It is a question I have been asking myself these last weeks. Perhaps I should not have spoken to you yet.’

‘I am sure it is always better to say what is in one’s mind.’

‘I have made up mine to ask you to marry me.’

‘Oh!’ I could say no more. I felt my whole body tingling with delight. It had really happened then. I had not been wrong. I said to myself: Oh Bersaba, I am going to be married. Think of it. I am going to be married to a general in the King’s Army, the most wonderful, most gallant man in the world.

Bersaba had once said: ‘I wonder which of us will marry first?’ and Bersaba had wanted to be the first. She always wanted to be the first in everything and somehow I had wanted her to, for it had seemed her right.

But this was different. More than anything I wanted to marry Richard Tolworthy.

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘you are startled. You are wondering how I, who am so old, can dare suggest such a thing to you, who are not yet eighteen. That’s what you mean, is it not?’

I laughed—strange rather hysterical laughter it sounded. I could never be clever as Bersaba was and I tried fleetingly to imagine what she would say in these circumstances. But what was the use? I was myself, not Bersaba, and I had never been able to say anything but that which first came into my head.

‘I mean nothing of the sort,’ I cried. ‘I mean only that I am so happy that you asked me. I have been so immodest. I thought perhaps you were interested in me and I let myself dream that you wanted to marry me and … I just could not have borne it if you hadn’t.’

He came towards me then and I stood up. I expected him to take me into his arms and hold me tightly. But he did not. He took my hand and kissed it as he might have done if we had just been introduced at a ball.

‘You are a dear child,’ he said, ‘but impetuous. Can you really mean this?’

‘With all my heart,’ I said.

He pushed me back gently on to the window-seat and went and sat in a chair some distance from me.

‘You must not make a hasty decision, my dear.’

‘I don’t understand you. Were you hoping I would say no?’

He smiled at me. ‘I asked you because I hoped you would say yes. But you are young.’

‘That,’ I said rather tritely, ‘will in due course be remedied.’

‘But as you grow older so shall I. You must listen to what I have to say very carefully. When you are twenty-four years of age I shall be forty. Think of that.’

‘It seems good arithmetic to me,’ I was growing frivolous in my happiness.

‘Now let me talk to you very seriously, Have you thought very much about marrying?’

‘Only vaguely. My sister and I used to talk about it sometimes. We used to wonder whom we would marry and who would marry first. You see, being twins we have always done everything together. There were so few eligible people surrounding us, and we guessed we would marry two of the young men of the neighbourhood,’

‘And you came to London and met me.’

‘And how glad I am! I was never more glad of anything in my life.’

‘You are at the beginning of your life, my dear. Let us remember that, I must make you see what life would be like if you married me. You have been here in this house and you have been to one or two balls and masques and there is no doubt that you have found life here a little more exciting than that in your country house. That’s true, I believe.’

‘Yes,’ I admitted, ‘but not because of the balls and masques.’

‘I am glad of that,’ he said. ‘I lead a quieter life.’

‘I shall be happy to share it.’

‘You have a good sweet nature and I believe you will make me very happy … if this marriage should take place.’

‘But it
is
going to take place. You have asked me and I have accepted. If we both want it it must take place, must it not?’

‘Yes,’ he answered, ‘if we both want it and there is no objection from your family.’

‘My parents would want me to be happy. They always have.’

‘Then I shall ask their consent, I shall speak to Sir Gervaise, who is your temporary guardian, and ask him to recommend me to your parents.’

I clasped my hands blissfully.

‘But first,’ he went on, ‘I want you to be absolutely sure what this means.’

‘I know that I want to be with you more than anything.’ I spoke fervently and the truth of what I said astonished me. Truly I loved this man.

‘I have pointed out to you the disparity in our ages.’

‘Which I accept and rejoice in. Do you think I want a young man with breeches like bellows tied up with fancy ribbons?’

He smiled. I noticed then that he rarely laughed and sometimes it was as though he smiled in spite of himself. He was a very serious man, this one I loved. I thought: I shall change that. I’ll make him so happy that he will laugh all the time.

‘There are certain things you must know about me. I have been already married.’

‘Did she die?’ I asked.

‘She died,’ he answered.

‘And it was very sad, I suppose.’

‘Yes, it was very sad.’

‘Then please don’t talk about it if it distresses you.’

‘I think you should know of it.’

‘Was it long ago?’

‘Ten years,’ he said.

‘But that is a very long time.’

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘it has seemed a very long time.’

‘And did you never want to marry anyone until now?’

He hesitated. Then he said, ‘I thought of it once … but decided against it.’

‘So you weren’t really in love.’

‘I thought it might be unwise.’

I got up and, going to him, stood behind him and placing my hands on his shoulders, laid my face against his head.

‘And you do not think it unwise now?’

‘I think this could perhaps be the right thing for me. I have to consider whether it would be right for you.’

‘No,’ I cried vehemently, ‘that is for me to say.’

He took my hand from his shoulder and pressed his lips to it.

‘As you see, Angelet, I am not a very merry man.’

‘No, you are serious. I like that. You are the King’s general. You have a high position in his army.’

‘Which takes me away from home frequently. Would you like that?’

‘I should not like you to be away from me but I would accept it.’

‘Then life is rather quiet in Far Flamstead. It is different from here. I do not entertain there very much. I never have. In fact I am not the most sociable of men.’

‘I am not very good at balls and banquets.’

‘We should have to attend them occasionally. Sometimes we should have to be at Whitehall.’

‘Then I should enjoy that because it was not often.’

‘You are determined to find everything to your liking.’

‘I believe that is how it is when one is in love.’

‘Oh Angelet,’ he said, ‘I can’t do this. You are too young. You have had no experience of living.’

‘You will give me my experience. Is that not what a husband should do?’

‘I am afraid,’ he said.

‘Please do not be afraid that I will not be suitable.’

‘I am afraid that I am the one who will fail you.’

‘This must be the strangest proposal ever made,’ I said. ‘You ask me to marry you and then you proceed to tell me why I shouldn’t.’

‘All I want is for you to be sure and not to discover that you have made a terrible mistake.’

‘I am sure,’ I cried. ‘I am. I am.’

Then he stood up and he held me in his arms. I had never been embraced by a man before so I had no way of judging it.

I thought he was very tender and I knew that I was going to be very happy.

He called next day and asked to see Gervaise. They were together for some time, during which I waited in a fever of impatience. I knew that all would be well because the decision would rest with my parents, and I was sure that if I told my mother I loved this man and could never be happy without him, she would surely give her consent. Then I supposed I would have to wait for my father’s, but that need not be so, for he would sanction anything of which she approved and she knew it.

Gervaise sent for me and when I went in Richard was with him.

I could see that Gervaise was a little disturbed, for I had come to know that he was a man who felt he had a duty towards me and would regard that duty with the utmost seriousness.

‘You know, my dear,’ he said, ‘that General Tolworthy is asking for your hand in marriage. I believe you have accepted his proposal.’

‘Yes,’ I said warmly and happily, ‘I have,’

‘Then,’ said Sir Gervaise, ‘I will write at once to your mother, and you perhaps should do the same, as the General will, and the letters can be despatched today.’

‘I understand Angelet’s father is on the high seas,’ said Richard.

‘He often is,’ I cried, ‘and we never know when he will be home. My mother will speak for them both.’

Richard looked askance at Gervaise, who said: ‘I believe that could be so. Let us all write our letters and they can then be despatched without delay.’

I went to my room, my head whirling with delight. I wrote to both my mother and my sister, and I knew that they would read the happiness in my letters. When I tried to describe him it was difficult. I could not say he was like this or that one, for there was simply no one like him. He was different from all other men. He was important. He was a general in the King’s army. He was a friend of the King’s and the Queen’s and he would defend them with his life. He was serious. They need not think he was a frivolous man of the town. No, he was a steady clever soldier, and his great concern was that he should make me happy.

I knew my mother would never be able to withhold her consent when she read my letter.

Carlotta was piqued when she heard the news.

‘I simply do not believe it,’ was her first comment. And afterwards: ‘I always thought there was something strange about Richard Tolworthy.’

‘There was a time when you thought him rather attractive,’ I pointed out, and added maliciously: ‘That was when you thought he preferred you.’

‘That’s nonsense,’ she said. ‘In any case you’re far too young for marriage.’

‘I shall be eighteen.’

‘You are immature for your age,’ she told me, and walked out of the room.

Yes, she was very angry.

Ana whispered to me: ‘She is angry because she does not like any but herself to be preferred.’

Mab said the same and I knew that they were right.

Richard left on duty and said that he would be away for a week or so and as soon as he was free to do so he would call on us.

Meanwhile we waited and I lived in a dream. I did not look into the future. I could not because I found it very hard to imagine what it would be like. There was a house, Far Flamstead, which I had not seen and which Richard had not described very clearly. He was not good at descriptions, I thought fondly. I knew its whereabouts roughly but he had never suggested taking me there, which was perhaps rather strange, but I had a notion that he wanted to wait for my family’s consent before he regarded us as betrothed.

It seemed a long time before the letters came.

‘My dearest Angelet,’ wrote my mother,

‘I was surprised to hear the news and your happiness came through to me. I wish it were possible for us to come to London, but that is quite out of the question. Bersaba is not yet strong enough to travel. My dear child, I understand how you are feeling. This is a wonderful thing that has happened to you. Sir Gervaise has written to me and so has General Tolworthy. He sounds a very serious man and eager to care for you. And you are truly in love with him. You could not disguise your true feelings from me if you tried.

I wish your father were here, but you know we can never be sure when he will return, and Fennimore is not even here either. I know that you do not want to wait. I have experienced this myself when I was your age, so I am writing to General Tolworthy and to Sir Gervaise and telling them that they have your family’s consent to your marriage.