PoetsandPromises Read online

  Elisabeth darted a quick, sharp glance at Lord Sherbourne. “Thank you, my lord,” she answered, “but I do not particularly care for novels, except as a very occasional diversion.”

  Sensing a faint hostility in Elisabeth’s tone, Sherbourne wondered what he had said that could possibly have been offensive. “What, then, do you prefer to read, Miss Ashwood?”

  “I enjoy biographies and histories, and I found Mr. Godwin’s Enquiry Concerning Political Justice and its Influence on Morals and Happiness very thought provoking,” Elisabeth answered.

  Lord Sherbourne could not prevent the smile that briefly touched his lips at the long title that issued forth with such seriousness from the young woman. “I see,” he answered. “No doubt the circulating library also has copies of Mr. Godwin’s and other political and philosophical works as well as the more popular novels, Miss Ashwood. I am sure you will be able to find works to your taste.”

  Brief as it was, Elisabeth had seen the half-smile and the slight mortification she had felt upon realizing how pompous her answer must have sounded increased. Worse, she had to acknowledge to herself that she very much wished she had made a good impression on Lord Sherbourne. Did he not understand how awkward she felt at this meeting? Where were the compassion and understanding she saw in Mr. Earlywine’s eyes? Anger began to replace her embarrassment. Lord Sherbourne was no Reverend Fairacre to guide her education and taste but a gentleman who found her interests in pursuing a course of improving reading laughable. She willed herself to regain her composure.

  “Thank you, Lord Sherbourne. I am certain I will find volumes of interest at the circulating library,” she forced herself to answer politely, if coolly.

  “Do you enjoy the opera, Miss Ashwood?” Lady Parker asked, entering the conversation in an evident attempt to steer the discussion in a new direction.

  “I have never had the opportunity to attend, Lady Parker,” Elisabeth answered, gratefully turning her attention to her hostess, “but I have found pleasure in hearing songs from operas sung during musical evenings at our assembly rooms.”

  “Then an appreciation of fine opera music is something we all share,” Earlywine stated. “Perhaps Sherbourne will obtain a box at the Lyceum for the Season and you will be able to see an entire opera performed.”

  “An excellent idea,” Lady Parker concurred. “Richard, will you see to it?”

  “It will be my pleasure,” Sherbourne replied. “Now, if you will forgive us, we must take our leave. Mr. Earlywine and I have business still to attend to this morning.”

  “You will both return this evening to dine with us, of course?” Lady Parker invited as the gentlemen rose from their seats.

  “Thank you, Lady Parker, I shall be delighted,” Earlywine said with a bow. “Miss Ashwood,” he added, bowing to her also.

  As Sherbourne and Earlywine exited Lady Parker’s town house and began walking down the street the viscount looked at his friend ruefully.

  “I seem to have muffed it royally. I have no doubt Miss Ashwood is at this moment wishing with all her heart that you were the one to whom she is to become betrothed.”

  “You need not have smiled when she mentioned Godwin’s work,” James reprimanded his friend. “Now she most likely feels you do not take her interests seriously, or worse, find them amusing. Nothing is more likely to set a woman’s opinion against you.”

  “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 J
ane,” 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.

  Chapter Three

  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 t
hought 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.