PoetsandPromises (6 page)

“I see,” Lord Sherbourne said, and delighted Elisabeth by
turning his head and giving a wink. “It would seem Miss Ashwood is correct and
that you have made a conquest. We shall delay the outing to the bookshop until
the following afternoon.”

“His grace is only making a courtesy call because of our
mishap,” Lady Parker insisted but a delicate rose tinged her cheeks and she
quickly changed the subject to the bookshop and kept it there until the
gentlemen departed ten minutes later.

The next afternoon both Elisabeth and Lady Parker waited in
some agitation for the Duke of Norland to make his promised call. Elisabeth had
never been in the presence, in a formal call, of an actual duke and feared she
might make a faux pas. Lady Parker worried that her years in India might have
caused her to forget small points of etiquette the duke might notice. Both
Elisabeth and Lady Parker had dressed with care, Elisabeth in her new
jonquil-colored day dress and Lady Parker in a deceptively simple gown of a
shimmering fabric that appeared to change from gold to dark peach depending
upon the light.

“His grace the Duke of Norland,” the butler announced with
great dignity as the clock chimed the half hour.

“Your Grace,” Lady Parker said, rising and curtseying to her
noble guest as Elisabeth did likewise.

Elisabeth was impressed anew by the duke’s appearance, which
was in strong contrast to that of the literary set. His morning coat fit so
perfectly it looked as though it had been sewn on, the shirt that showed above
his buff waistcoat was of flawless linen, topped with an impeccably tied
cravat, his trousers fit like gloves and his boots were so shiny the fire’s
very image reflected on them. His graying hair seemed only to add distinction
to his appearance, not age.

“I had to assure myself that you were recovered from your
fall yesterday, Lady Parker,” the duke said, taking a chair at Lady Parker’s
invitation. “I have been berating myself for my clumsiness that caused such an
unfortunate accident.”

“You should not, Your Grace, as it was I who should have
been watching where I stepped,” Lady Parker protested.

“I hope your injuries have healed,” Norland said, looking at
Lady Parker’s still-bandaged hands with concern.

“They are much better, Your Grace. The bandages are only to
keep the salve on,” Lady Parker assured him. “Thank you for your kindness in
sending the basket of fruit. We enjoyed it excessively, especially the mango. I
had not eaten one since I have returned to London.”

“Ah yes, you have been returned from India only these last
six months, have you not? It must be difficult to accustom oneself to our chill
country after so many years in a warmer clime,” the duke said with a glance at
the blazing fire in the drawing room grate.

“You see I try my best to reproduce the warmth,” Lady Parker
said, following his glance.

“And I see your cat likes it as well,” the duke commented,
nodding toward Revati, who lay stretched before the fire. “That is a beautiful
cat. A French cat, is it not?”

“Yes, Revati is a French cat of the breed they say
originated in Ankara,” Lady Parker agreed. “Although she actually came to me in
India, where she journeyed with her former owners. She is nearly as
well-traveled as I.”

“I imagine you find your return to England difficult in
other ways in addition to the weather,” the duke commented.

“A bit,” Lady Parker said with a smile. “This morning I had
difficulty trying to decide which invitations to accept and which to decline,
for I often found I could not remember whether they were someone I had known or
not, as many of the young girls I knew are now women grown and married. And
since many of the families have been at their country estates since I returned
from India, I have not yet paid many calls and brought myself up to date. But
we shall make a start with Lady Earlywine’s come-out ball for her daughter, and
perhaps I shall be able to remember more after I see people again there.”

“I also have received an invitation from Lady Earlywine to
Miss Earlywine’s come-out ball,” the duke commented. “May I hope you will save
me a dance, Lady Parker?”

“I shall be among the chaperones that night,” Lady Parker
replied, “so I fear I will not be able to join those on the dance floor.”

“Then I shall be pleased to sit out a dance with you.”

Precisely when fifteen minutes had passed the duke departed,
leaving Lady Parker looking rather bemused.

“Truly, Lady Parker, I do believe I am correct and that you
have made a conquest,” Elisabeth reiterated.

“Nonsense,” Lady Parker replied, but her face had a rather
wistful expression as she gazed at the doorway through which the duke had
departed.

In mid-March the weather suddenly warmed, the remainder of
the gowns Lady Parker and Elisabeth had ordered were delivered and Elisabeth
surprised herself by beginning to feel a certain anticipation for the Season.
She had to admit she wished to wear her new gowns in Lord Sherbourne’s presence
and see admiration in his eyes. It was a bit disconcerting to find she cared as
much as she did for his opinion since they had overcome their initial
awkwardness. No longer did Elisabeth view her future as bleak or feel the
arranged marriage was the end of her happiness. The promise of a new kind of
happiness had entered her life and she was even anxious for it to arrive. The
only flaw marring Elisabeth’s contentment was that she had heard no more of the
Shelleys, for she had enjoyed Mary Shelley’s conversation and light spirit and
found it odd she had heard nothing after Mary Shelley’s insistence that
Elisabeth visit them. Elisabeth was reflecting on this fact while working on
some embroidery late one morning the week before Easter day when Sherbourne
arrived.

“Good morning, Charlotte, Miss Ashwood,” he said. “Miss
Ashwood, I come bearing an invitation I feel sure you will wish to accept,” he
announced, handing Elisabeth a folded note.

Wondering what it could be, Elisabeth unfolded it and read
aloud. “Sherbourne, spring has arrived. You and Miss Ashwood must join us for a
picnic at St. James this afternoon at three of the clock. Shelley.”

“Shall we go, Miss Ashwood?”

“Oh yes, I was thinking about them but a moment since and
should like it above all things!” Elisabeth exclaimed without waiting for Lady
Parker to give her permission.

“Richard,” Lady Parker said in a warning tone. “I do not
know that this is wise.”

“It is only a meeting in St. James Park, Charlotte,” Lord
Sherbourne persuaded. “I do not think there will be any harm in it. Most of the
ton
prefer Hyde Park, and with the Season not begun there will be few
people about. Miss Ashwood’s maid may accompany us if you wish.”

“Mr. Earlywine,” the butler announced before Lady Parker
could continue her argument against the outing.

“Lady Parker, Miss Ashwood, good morning. Sherbourne,
thought I should find you here when you were not at home,” James said, assuming
the privilege of a close family friend by taking a chair without being asked.

“Earlywine, we have just received an invitation to a picnic
with the Shelleys at St. James this afternoon—would you care to join us?” Lord
Sherbourne asked his friend. “They do not stand on ceremony and would be
pleased if you would come.”

“Should like it immensely,” James accepted. He turned to
Lady Parker.

“Lady Parker, I come with orders from m’sister and mother to
thank you for assuring that ‘Melia’s come-out ball will be a success. My sister
is to have a duke attend and they have no doubt that the acceptance is due to
the fact you will be there. It is a great honor for the daughter of a mere
baron, and m’sister is in alt.

“Begging your pardon, Miss Ashwood,” James added as he
realized Elisabeth also was the daughter of a “mere” baron.

“Granted,” Elisabeth said, amused to see Earlywine make even
such a small error in etiquette, although he did not appear unduly overset by
it, for his blue eyes twinkled mischievously as he gave a slight bow in
acknowledgment of her forgiveness.

At half past two that afternoon the three friends set out to
meet the Shelleys at St James, Molly accompanying Elisabeth at Lady Parker’s
insistence. The park, not far from the town house, was not as popular as Hyde
Park but it contained many more flowers and the spring bulbs were making a fine
display. Elisabeth admired their beauty as they walked over the grass. She had
chosen to wear one of her older walking dresses, feeling it would be appropriate
for a picnic. However, she knew it to be one of her most flattering older gowns
and was pleased to see the admiration in both gentlemen’s eyes.

“Where shall we find Mr. and Mrs. Shelley?” Elisabeth asked.
“The note did not specify.”

“One may always find Shelley where the water is,” Lord
Sherbourne informed her, gesturing toward the canal with his walking stick.

“I believe I have spotted them,” Earlywine said, veering off
to the right where two figures could be seen running along the canal bank.

Puzzled, Elisabeth wondered what the husband and wife were
doing. As they neared the canal Elisabeth was astounded to see the Shelleys
were chasing after paper boats.

“Oh dear, mine has swamped,” Mary Shelley exclaimed as her
paper craft suddenly tipped and began to sink.

Shelley acknowledged their presence with a wave, plucked his
still-afloat paper boat from the water and came toward the three. “Sherbourne,
one moment,” he called as he strode over to a pile of belongings heaped under
some plane trees. There he pulled out several sheets of paper and joined the
others, handing them each a piece of paper. “We shall have a proper race now.
Mary, show Miss Ashwood how to make a boat,” he ordered his wife.

Bemused, Elisabeth glanced up at Lord Sherbourne as Shelley
sat on the ground and began to fold his paper.

“If you recall, Miss Ashwood, Mr. Shelley has a fascination
with water and boats,” Lord Sherbourne said
sotto voce
as Mary Shelley
approached. “It appears that fascination extends even to the paper kind.”

“Miss Ashwood, I am so pleased you were able to come,” Mary
Shelley said as she came up to Elisabeth. “Have you ever made a paper boat?”

“No, I fear my education was lacking in that respect,”
Elisabeth answered.

“Then allow me to show you how. Your maid as well,” she
added, noticing Molly standing a few steps behind her mistress. “Take your
sheet and first fold it thus,” Mary Shelley said, demonstrating.

Elisabeth and Molly copied Mary Shelley’s actions and in a
few minutes had creditable paper boats. They broke twigs for masts, attached
the twigs to the boats and joined the gentlemen at the water’s edge.

“When I give the word, you may launch your ships upon the
water,” Shelley ordered. “The last to stay afloat and moving wins, and all must
pay the winner a shilling.”

At Shelley’s command the five launched their paper boats
into the water and before long Elisabeth found herself running along the bank
with the others, urging her boat to go faster and even stooping to try to blow
into its sails. Earlywine’s boat and Mary’s soon swamped, Elisabeth’s stuck
against flotsam, Molly’s floated to the shore and remained there. Only
Sherbourne’s and Shelley’s boats finished, Sherbourne’s winning by few inches.

Flushed and laughing, the party retreated to a shady spot
near the trees and the losers cheerfully paid their shillings, except
Elisabeth, who had had no idea she might require to have coins upon her person
that afternoon. Mary Shelley pulled a rug from under the pile of belongings and
Elisabeth and Molly helped her spread it over the grass. Mary next took glasses
and a flagon of clear liquid from a basket, along with loaves of bread and
boxes of what appeared to be dried fruit. When the luncheon was spread out on
the rug everyone sat around the perimeter. Shelley reached for a loaf of bread,
tore a piece off and passed the loaf to Earlywine, who did the same. Mary
passed around the boxes of dried fruit, which turned out to be raisins. Glasses
and the flagon came next and when Elisabeth sipped from her glass she was
surprised to find what she had thought was white wine was water. All in all she
thought it a very odd luncheon, although the Shelleys ate with every appearance
of enjoyment and seemed to find nothing lacking. Elisabeth thought that
Sherbourne and Earlywine must find the repast as odd as she did herself but
they too ate with every appearance of enjoyment, far too well-bred to show any
surprise at the unusual collation.

When the group had eaten their fill Mary repacked the basket
and Shelley flung himself on his back, stretching out on the rug. “Ah, what
more can one ask—bread, the staff of life, pure water, dried fruits of the
vine, good company and my lovely Mary.” He reached up to his wife and pulled
her head on top of him. Embarrassed at such a public display of affection,
Elisabeth looked away, and noticed a figure in the distance seated under a
large plane tree.

“How odd,” Elisabeth said in surprise. “That person appears
to have an easel—could someone be painting outdoors?”

Intrigued, Shelley released his wife and propped himself up
on his elbows, peering at the figure. “I do believe you are correct, Miss
Ashwood. Let us discover what he or she is doing,” he proposed, jumping up and
striding toward the figure. The others followed, also curious, except Molly,
who remained behind to tidy things away.

As they neared the figure Elisabeth saw it was a woman and
that indeed she appeared to be painting. The artist had set up an easel and
chair, and a box of oils and a vase of brushes sat near her feet. As they
neared the woman looked up and flashed a brilliant smile. Dark, curly hair
peeped beneath a fashionable bonnet but her gown was hidden beneath a painter’s
smock stained in a rainbow of colors.