PoetsandPromises Read online

  “I thought perhaps a marriage had been arranged for you with someone in the East India Company.”

  “No, I met my first husband after I arrived there,” Lady Parker said, and added perspicaciously, “Am I correct in guessing that had I answered ‘yes’ you would have asked me how it felt to marry someone I had not known well?”

  Elisabeth blushed. “Yes, I must admit I was. I thought that perhaps your situation had been similar to mine and that you married without knowing your betrothed well.”

  “I hope,” Lady Parker said, putting down her knife and fork and giving her full attention to Elisabeth, “that you have come to know Richard at least a little and that you are not entirely disinclined to a match with my brother?”

  “No, I am not disinclined to the match,” Elisabeth answered, knowing as she said it aloud that it was indeed the truth, despite their recent quarrel. “I find your brother very congenial.”

  “I am very pleased to hear you say so, because I should not wish you to marry Richard if you did not find him congenial,” Lady Parker said seriously. “Although as I said to you before, I am naturally prejudiced in his favor and believe any young woman should be pleased to make such a match,” she added with a smile.

  “What I have been leading up to asking,” Lady Parker continued, “is if you would allow me to announce your engagement with my brother. I must confess I feel I am perpetrating a bit of a falsehood upon society, pretending to be your sponsor only.”

  “Has Lord Sherbourne asked that you do this?” Elisabeth asked, her heart beating rapidly as she thought, Please say yes! Perhaps, she thought in sudden joy, this was Lord Sherbourne’s way of showing he was sorry for their misunderstanding.

  “No, I felt I should ask you first, and I was not going to mention it to my brother if you were disinclined. But I am certain he will agree. It has been his intention from the beginning to marry you, of course. It is all arranged.”

  Elisabeth’s happiness vanished in an instant, leaving her feeling dull and leaden. “I believe, Lady Parker,” she said slowly, “that I would prefer to leave the plan as it was originally, to which my father and mother agreed.”

  “Very well,” Lady Parker accepted. “The Season is nearly half over and I suppose it makes little difference now in any event.”

  Wishing to divert Lady Parker’s thoughts and change the subject to one less painful to herself, Elisabeth dared to ask the question that had long been on her mind. “If I might inquire, Lady Parker, it is obvious the duke calls to see you. Do you not wish to marry him?”

  Lady Parker poured fresh tea into her cup and took a sip. “It is only fair I be as frank with you as you have been with me. I care for the duke but I feel I cannot marry him. I told you I was widowed in India. That was true as far as it went but…”

  Abruptly, Lady Parker pushed back her chair from the table and rose. “Come with me to my bedchamber,” she invited, turning to leave the room.

  Elisabeth followed Lady Parker upstairs to her bedchamber, anxious to have her curiosity satisfied, for the door to Lady Parker’s chamber always remained closed and Elisabeth had wondered at what seemed to be an extreme desire for privacy.

  “Please come in,” Lady Parker said, opening the door.

  As Elisabeth crossed the threshold she felt as though she were entering another world. Brilliant color was everywhere. The walls were hung with brightly painted pictures of exotic beasts and strange beings, the bed was covered with hangings of bright pink and red fabrics shot with gold, comfortable-looking pillows with silk coverings and gold tassels lay upon both the bed and floor and brass figures graced small tables and bracketed shelves. Revati lay stretched out asleep on the center of the bed.

  “This is my sanctuary, my piece of India here in London. But here is what I wished you to see,” Lady Parker said, picking up a miniature off a small rosewood table near the bed. “This was my first husband. He was killed in the fighting, shortly after I married him.”

  Elisabeth took the miniature from Lady Parker and surveyed the likeness of a fair-haired gentleman in the uniform of the East India Company army. Both strength and sensitivity could be seen in the lines and contours of his face and Elisabeth felt sad that he had not lived to have a fuller life. Not knowing what to say, she handed the miniature back to Lady Parker in silence.

  “And this,” Lady Parker continued, picking up a second miniature and holding it out to Elisabeth, “was my second husband.”

  Elisabeth took the second miniature and examined it in surprise. It portrayed a very handsome man with dark expressive eyes and dark skin. A jeweled turban was on his head.

  “As you see, my second husband was Indian,” Lady Parker said quietly. “He was a prince in his own country but Indian. There are but few English women in India, Miss Ashwood, and the truth is that most of the men in the East India Company, especially in the remote stations, marry women who are native to that land. But rarely—one might almost say never—does it happen the other way around. My marriage was not received well by the other Englishmen. We were at a very remote station but even there many of the English would not receive me in their homes. When my second husband died of cholera and I returned to England to live with my brother I chose to reassume my first husband’s name, hoping that since we had been in such a remote corner of the world no one in England would learn of my second marriage. Perhaps it was cowardly of me but I had no desire to defend my choice to those who never knew him and never could.”

  “I think you were very brave,” Elisabeth said honestly. “But why does this mean you cannot marry the duke? He would understand, I am certain.”

  “No, I cannot,” Lady Parker said with resolution as she placed the miniatures back on the table. “You have commented yourself on how proper His Grace is in all his actions. I could not risk putting him in a position where his honor would demand he give his hand in a marriage he no longer desired.

  “You see, Miss Ashwood, I know what it is to be outcast by society, to be beyond the pale. It is all very well to say principle comes first and that I did right but it is also lonely. Very lonely,” she repeated, absently stroking Revati. “And that is why I have been against your association with Mr. Hunt and Mr. and Mrs. Shelley and the others who are members of a set that has chosen not to abide by the rules of society. You have not yet enough knowledge of the world to make that terrible decision.”

  “Now,” Lady Parker said, “we have been serious long enough. Shall we go downstairs and decide which entertainments we wish to attend this next week?”

  Elisabeth followed Lady Parker back downstairs in a somber frame of mind. Was it the loneliness of the outcast that caused Mary Shelley to plead so desperately for Elisabeth to continue her friendship with the poet’s wife? She had wondered at Mrs. Shelley’s odd insistence. Intuitively Elisabeth knew the answer was “yes”.

  After helping Lady Parker sort through a large pile of invitations, Elisabeth excused herself to go take a rest.

  “Of course, I should not have kept you so long, Miss Ashwood,” Lady Parker apologized. “Oh, I forgot to give these to you,” she added, holding out three missives. “These arrived in the post today.”

  Elisabeth inspected the inscriptions as she went upstairs, seeing that one was from her father and one from her friend Jane but she did not recognize the handwriting on the third. Curious, she opened it first and saw it was from Mary Shelley. She scanned rapidly through the contents as she went into her bedchamber, her expression changing from excitement to disappointment. Mary. Shelley asked if she, Lady Parker, Lord Sherbourne and Mr. Earlywine would meet her husband and herself in Lyme Regis for a day of sailing. Elisabeth had longed for such an opportunity ever since Shelley had described the experience so vividly at the Hunt’s that first day she had met them but Elisabeth also knew that Lady Parker and Lord Sherbourne were both extremely unlikely to agree to such an outing. Elisabeth dropped onto the bench at the end of her bed and thought what to do. If she were to mention the i
nvitation, no doubt Lord Sherbourne would consider it proof of her interest in Mr. Shelley and Lady Parker would feel she had ignored her cautions earlier in the day. She would have to send a refusal without even asking. With a great sigh at the loss of such an opportunity, Elisabeth picked up her other letters and slit the seals.

  Earlywine dropped casually into a comfortable armchair at Lord Sherbourne’s town home sitting room. “There’s a gray at Tattersall’s I have been admiring—d’you have the leisure to take a look at him with me? I would appreciate your opinion before making the purchase.”

  Sherbourne looked up from the missive he had been studying. “Certainly, it would be my pleasure.

  “It would appear from this note I received from Hunt this morning that Miss Ashwood has turned down a proposal for a day’s sailing in Lyme Regis—an invitation that apparently included you as well, by the way,” Sherbourne said, his tone thoughtful. “It is odd she never mentioned it. Not that it makes a difference, since such an excursion would be out of the question, but I would think she would have informed the other parties included in the invitation.”

  “There is your answer. Miss Ashwood no doubt knew it was out of the question and did not feel it worth mentioning,” James said practically. “How does your courtship progress? You have said little about it of late.”

  Sherbourne set the letter aside and turned his attention to his friend. “Not well. I am at fault. I fear I made some hasty accusations after seeing Shelley caress her face the day we went to Marlow. No doubt it was innocent but in truth although I must admire the man’s genius. He has an unenviable reputation with women and Miss Ashwood is an innocent for all her study. Miss Ashwood then countered with accusations that I have shown an interest in Miss Thibeau.”

  “It is difficult not to have an interest in Miss Thibeau,” Earlywine remarked.

  “Any man must appreciate her beauty,” Lord Sherbourne agreed. “And perhaps Miss Ashwood has a point that her admiration of the poet is no different.” He hesitated before speaking again. “I regret the quarrel deeply, as I felt we were coming to an understanding of each other, and had even planned to ask her if I might have our betrothal announced publically. I have tried to remedy the situation and had hoped I was making progress the night of the opera but I had the confounded luck to be asked to visit the comtesse in her box during the interval and could not refuse. I fear Miss Ashwood must have seen me there, for the rest of the evening she was markedly cool. “

  “You could still ask Miss Ashwood if you could announce the betrothal,” Earlywine suggested. “It might make her feel secure and she would not mind Miss Thibeau so much.”

  “She would never agree as things stand now,” Sherbourne pronounced. “And I am afraid if I were to ask and she were to refuse that things between us might never be repaired.”

  “I can tell you how to get back into Miss Ashwood’s good graces,” Earlywine said suddenly. “Accept the offer of the sailing excursion. Wouldn’t mind going m’self,” he added.

  “My sister would never agree,” Sherbourne argued. “She is unhappy enough with the connection as it is. She would never wish to risk Miss Ashwood being seen in the Shelleys’ company in Lyme.”

  “I believe that most of those who travel to Lyme Regis these days go to search for fossils along the cliffs,” James informed Sherbourne. “Ought to know—had to take m’sisters there once. Lyme is no longer a preferred destination for resorts and sea outings, at least among the ton. I doubt anyone who would recognize her would be among those we would encounter during the little time we would be in the town itself.”

  Lord Sherbourne considered his friend’s argument. It was true Miss Ashwood had shown a great interest in accounts of sailing since that first visit at Hunt’s in Hamptstead. With Earlywine’s backing he might be able to persuade his sister to the idea. Almost anything was worth the risk if it would restore the rapport he and Miss Ashwood had lost. He would indeed risk almost anything to have her once again look at him as she had the night she waltzed in his arms at the assembly rooms of Almack’s. He had seen total trust in her eyes as she had relaxed into his arms while they had whirled around the room to the intoxicating music of the waltz. He had felt they had merged into one, surrendering their hearts to the other, and had known by the blissful expression on Miss Ashwood’s face that she had felt the same. Yes, he would risk anything to have that restored between them.

  “I believe you have the right of it,” he said to James. “I shall convince my sister to allow the excursion.”

  “Good,” Earlywine said, rising. “That is settled. Off to Tattersall’s then.”

  Chapter Eight

  “How pretty that manor house in the distance—it is built of such a lovely pastel stone,” Elisabeth exclaimed as the hired traveling carriage rumbled through the rolling hills of Dorset on this second morning of their journey to Lyme Regis.Elisabeth could still scarcely credit that they were on their way to a sailing excursion with the Shelleys. She wondered how Lord Sherbourne had persuaded his sister to agree to the outing, for Elisabeth was certain Lady Parker did not approve.

  “I agree that Dorset has some remarkably lush countryside,” Elisabeth continued. “I had not realized such woods were to be found in Dorset. I suppose I thought only of the sea and such towns as Weymouth and Lyme.”

  “Dorset is known for its excellent fox hunting,” Earlywine commented from his seat across from Elisabeth, Molly and Lady Parker. “In autumn there is no finer countryside for following the hounds.”

  “Certainly it ranks among the best in the country,” Sherbourne agreed. “But you are not alone in thinking of the sea when you think of Dorset, Miss Ashwood. You will find its seashore and cliffs quite the equal of those to be found anywhere in England.”

  “I must confess I have never been to the seaside, so I shall have nothing with which to compare them,” Elisabeth admitted with a half-smile, turning her head from the view outside and addressing Lord Sherbourne and Earlywine.

  “An Englishwoman who has never been to the seaside!” Earlywine exclaimed with a twinkle in his eye, empathizing with Elisabeth’s obvious pleasure in their journey. “Your upbringing has been sadly neglected. We must ensure that you see all the sights to be found in Lyme. We shall stroll along the Cobb, walk down to the seashore and explore every shop.”

  “Indeed we shall, and we shall begin with a walk along the Cobb this evening,” Lady Parker agreed good-naturedly.

  “Shall we have time to explore after settling at our lodgings?” Elisabeth asked doubtfully, looking out the carriage window once again, checking the sun’s position in the sky.

  “It is only a few hours more. Shelley will have ordered our dinner and there should be no difficulties with our rooms since he and Mrs. Shelley traveled down to Lyme several days ago. The sloop we are to sail upon is not his but one belonging to one of his friends,” Sherbourne explained. “And Shelley wished to familiarize himself with her before he took the four of us out for a sail. I am sure you must know that all ships of any size are referred to as ‘she’,” he added for Elisabeth’s benefit.

  “Yes, I managed to learn that much, although I know little of ships or the sea.” Elisabeth laughed, her smile lighting her face. “Have you sailed often, Lord Sherbourne?” she inquired enviously.

  “Only a few times, upon friends’ yachts. I do not have the passion for sailing that Shelley does, perhaps because I had little leisure for such pastimes during my years in India with the Company, but I have sailed often enough that I have obtained some knowledge of the art.”

  “Yachting will become even more popular now the Prince Regent and his brother have joined the Yacht Club,” Earlywine opined. “I hear the prince has a large yacht commissioned. She should be a beauty when she is finished. The Prince prefers sailing out of Brighton though.”

  The carriage slowed as the coachman turned into an inn yard and the passengers began to shift about to get their blood circulating properly again, as passengers do af
ter sitting in one place for a long time.

  “It is not long before you will become acquainted with the seaside, Miss Ashwood,” Sherbourne commented. “We shall eat and refresh ourselves at this inn and then begin the last leg of our journey.”

  Elisabeth smoothed the skirts of her light-blue traveling suit after they exited the carriage, hoping she did not appear too travel stained.

  “One always feels rumpled after a long carriage journey,” Lady Parker said, smoothing the skirts of her own forest-green gown. “But everyone is in the same predicament, so we need not be unduly dismayed by our appearance.”

  After a short repast of cold joint and cheeses at the inn while a change of horses was made, the party boarded their carriage once more and a few hours later Elisabeth had her first view of the sea and cliffs to the east of Lyme.

  “The cliffs have such interesting colors and features—and the sea, how immense it appears,” Elisabeth commented as she gazed out at the passing scenery.

  “That is Lyme Bay,” Sherbourne explained. “Lyme Bay is quite open and does not provide the shelter for boats that more protected bays do. That is why the Cobb was first built at Lyme, to provide protection for the town and create a sheltered harbor for shipping.”

  “Those cliffs you are admiring are full of fossils,” Lady Parker added. “Lyme has become more a destination for fossil hunters than for those seeking a seaside holiday these last few years, or so Mr. Earlywine has informed me,” she finished with a dubious glance at her brother’s friend.

  “I suppose fossil hunting must be interesting,” Elisabeth commented. “And perhaps I would enjoy it if I were knowledgeable about fossils but I am glad we are here for a sailing excursion rather than a fossil-hunting excursion.”

  “I agree with you most heartily, Miss Ashwood,” Earlywine stated with fervor. “I came fossil hunting here with m’sisters and pottering about the cliffs poking with sticks and hoping one does not become buried under a fall of earth is not my favorite pastime for a holiday.”