Portrait of Jonathan (9 page)

The morning of their embarkation at Dover found them at the harbour
early, having stayed overnight in an hotel nearby. The quay was a seething
mass of people scurrying hither and thither intent upon their own affairs.
Lavinia was bewildered and a little frightened by it all. Although she was
a city girl, she had never seen such a throng. She held on tightly to her
grandfather’s arm, afraid that she would lose him in the crowd.

‘There they are,’ a voice cried close at hand and Lavinia turned to see
Giles pushing his way through the people to reach them, and following in
his wake was Jonathan.

‘Couldn’t let you go without saying a proper “ goodbye”, Vinny. Good
morning, Lord Rowan.’ Giles was breathless.

‘Good morning, my boy, Jonathan,’ as the latter reached them.

Lavinia knew herself to be pink with the pleasure not only of actually
seeing Jonathan but also with the thought that he had taken the trouble to
come all this way to see her. Giles’ next words were to dispel some of the
magic of her thoughts.

‘Jonathan had to come down here on business, so I decided to come with
him and see you off.’

So Giles had come especially, Lavinia thought, but not Jonathan. However,
she consoled herself, he had come, and she had had her wish to see him
just once more granted. Giles chattered on in his usual boyishly impetuous
manner, whilst Jonathan merely smiled down at her. At last Jonathan drew
her aside from the other two for a brief moment and spoke softly to her
alone.

‘Don’t be sad at going, Vinny. When you return you’ll be an accomplished
young lady with no reason to be shy or afraid of anyone.’

‘You r-really think so?’ Her eyes gazed into his appealingly, but her
tone was disbelieving.

‘You haven’t any need now, although I know you won’t believe me—but
perhaps when you come back you will do so. Vinny, when you come back …’
his voice took on a note of urgency, but at that moment Giles called.

‘It’s time Vinny and Lord Rowan were going aboard, Jonathan.’

‘All right,’ he replied. ‘ Vinny—you will write to me—to us—and let us
know how you are and …’

‘Yes—yes, I’ll write and,’ she paused uncertain whether she dare say what
was in her mind.

‘Yes?’ he prompted.

‘And I sh-should like to know h-how you—all—are, and about the clippers
and your steamship.’

She saw the gleam of pleasure in his eyes at the mention of the
steamship. Then he laughed. ‘If I wrote to you on that subject, Vinny, I
should bore you to tears.’

‘Oh no—no—
you
c-could never do that,’ she cried and then blushed
and hung her head at the thought of her boldness.

‘Really, Vinny,’ Jonathan said so softly that she could scarcely hear
him. ‘I’m glad.’

‘Hey, you two,’ Giles broke in again. ‘Come on, or you’ll miss it.’

He appeared beside them and took Lavinia’s hand and placed it through his
arm. ‘Allow me to escort you, ma’am.’

‘Allow
me
to escort you, ma’am,’ said Jonathan, his face breaking
into one of his rare wide grins so that he looked almost as boyishly young
as Giles. Only the scar was a sharp reminder that his youth had been
somewhat carelessly misspent.

Lavinia took the arm Jonathan offered her and tried to laugh gaily, but
the effort almost choked her with the thought that she would see neither
of them for almost a year and so much could happen in that time.

As the boat drew away, Lord Rowan and Lavinia stood by the deck rail and
waved to the two brothers until they were mere specks in the distance.

‘They’re fine young men, Lavinia, I should be more than happy if you
eventually pick a husband who is their equal.’

Lavinia looked up to meet his eyes and knew by her expression that she
betrayed herself if her grandfather could see it. She looked away quickly.

‘Ah,’ said Lord Rowan quietly. ‘I seem to have struck upon a note which
responds, have I, Lavinia?’

‘Please, Grandfather, do not ask me.’

Tears were too close for her to discuss her feelings rationally at this
moment and besides, she wanted no one else to learn of her hopeless love
for Jonathan. It was bad enough that Giles should have learnt of it.

‘Very well, my dear,’ Lord Rowan put his arm about her shoulders and she
leant against him. Together they watched the disappearing coast of
England.

The school itself offered no fearful prospect of misery for the next
year. It was a charming old house—rambling was the only word to describe
it, Lavinia thought. A maze of corridors, classrooms, bedrooms and
dormitories, and so on. The headmistress was a small woman, but
exquisitely proportioned. Her serene face, still beautiful, was at one and
the same time kindly and homely, but worldly-wise and intelligent. Madame
Givelle was eminently suited to her profession.

‘You are very welcome, Mamedolselle Kelvin,’ she said, her English most
beautifully pronounced with only the merest hint of an accent. ‘Lord
Rowan, I am happy to make your acquaintance. I am sure your grand-daughter
will be happy here and you have my personal assurance that she will be
well cared-for.’

‘I am sure of that, Madame, for I selected your establishment only after
very careful consideration and on the finest recommendation.’

Madame Givelle smiled and turned to Lavinia. ‘ Well, my dear, I will
leave you to say “good-bye” to your grandfather. When you are ready, knock
on my sitting-room door and we will have a little talk.’ She waved her
elegant hand to indicate the door of her room at one side of the vast hall
in which they were now standing and then she left them.

‘Now, my child, no painful “good-byes”,’ her grandfather said briskly.
‘The time will soon pass and you will be back home with me.’

He kissed her on both cheeks.

‘Au revoir,’ he said softly, turned and walked away quickly before
Lavinia had had time to utter a single word.

When the front door had closed behind his tall figure, she stood for a
moment to swallow the lump in her throat and to wipe the tears from her
eyes. Then, taking a deep breath to compose herself, she went and knocked
upon Madame’s door.

Life at Madame Givelle’s finishing school was, at
first, very strange for Lavinia. She had, whilst in her parents’
household, never enjoyed much social life. She had never been allowed to
make friends with girls of her own age, and so to be plunged into the
midst of about thirty of forty young ladles, all of whom possessed an
abundance of self-confidence which Lavinia did not, was in itself a
challenge. But the whole atmosphere of the school was relaxed and
friendly. To her surprise there were few strict rules and the members of
staff were far from the stern taskmistresses she had anticipated they
might be. As if following Madame’s lead, they were kindly and sympathetic
towards her and gave no indication that she was, at first, different from
the rest of the pupils in their charge. It was not a school for academic
learning only—though they had such lessons—but in the main the
establishment was designed to equip girls of social standing with the
graces and manners befitting their station, to give them self-confidence,
charm and, in short, to make them worthy of a husband of high rank, for
the thought uppermost in every girl’s mind was of the husband she would
one day hope to secure.

So Lavinia soon found herself reasonably happy in her new surroundings,
and although she missed Jonathan, her grandfather and the Eldons
intolerably, she comforted herself with the thought that when she returned
she would be more the kind of woman whom Jonathan could admire. So she
applied herself diligently to her lessons. Her favourite lesson was
dancing—she loved the graceful steps to the music, learning the art of
curtsying in the long, full skirts. Not so popular with any of the girls
was the deportment class where they had to walk about with a heavy book
upon their heads to acquire an elegant walk, and for the girl with a stoop
there was the ordeal of spending some time each day strapped to a
blackboard so that she might grow tall and straight. Fortunately, Lavinia
had a natural grace and straightness of back which allowed her exemption
from this. They learnt embroidery, making numerous fine samplers of
different stitches and only when they could perform each stitch to
perfection were they allowed to progress to the making of something more
useful. The girls, too, were encouraged to paint, mostly in watercolours,
and in this class Lavinia found she excelled. Soon her portraits of her
fellow pupils were in great demand and before her year was out, she was to
have painted almost every one of the inmates of the school—including
Madame Givelle herself who, to Lavinia’s great delight, insisted that her
portrait should be framed and hung in her sitting-room. She was allowed to
experiment with oils and found this medium even more to her liking.
Lavinia found she enjoyed working with colours even more than with pencil
and she also painted the faces of her grandfather and the Eldon family
from memory—this time being careful however, to paint only one of
Jonathan. But she could not help taking greater care over the portrait of
Jonathan. There was no doubt that of all her work this stood out as her
masterpiece. It was as if all her love for him transmitted itself through
her brush on to the canvas. The portraits of her grandfather and of the
Eldons she kept to take back with her—perhaps this time she would show
them to her grandfather for Madame Givelle had complemented her on her
talent and had told her that she must continue to work hard at her
painting. The pencil drawings she had done previously—the ones Giles had
come upon unexpectedly—had been left at home, but now she had a new set of
drawings and paintings which were undoubtedly an improvement on her
previous efforts now she had had encouragement and advice from the art
mistress.

Lavinia also found, much to her surprise, that she enjoyed the learning
of French. At first she had been distressed to find that she was the only
pupil there who had not previously learnt anything of the language. But
her quick mind soon rescued her from the bottom of the class, finding that
she had perhaps a natural feeling for the language because it was her
grandmother’s tongue.

Letters arrived frequently from her grandfather, to which she replied
with the same regularity. She also received letters from Lady Melmoth and
Giles, but from Jonathan there was no word. She had been half-afraid that
his promise to write had been just an idle one, as people do when they
part. So that when a letter with strange handwriting arrived one day, she
had ceased to hope that it might be from him, and when, on opening it, she
saw the name ‘
Jonathan
’ at the foot of the page, she could scarcely
believe it possible.

Without reading it she slipped it into the pocket of her morning dress
for she had no wish to read it amongst the other girls who at any moment
might peep over her shoulder. She would wait until she could slip away to
the dormitory and read it in private. Some time later in the morning,
after two hours of lessons on which she had found concentration difficult,
her thoughts ever wandering to the letter in her pocket, she found herself
running with undignified haste up the stairs to her room. With trembling
fingers she sat down on the bed to read the letter, holding the page
tenderly as if it were her most treasured possession.

‘My dear Lavinia,

‘I trust this letter will find you as it leaves me—in good health.
We have heard with pleasure from Lord Rowan of the comfort and
suitability of your residence. I, for my part, hope you are happy in
your present surroundings.’

Lavinia could well imagine him pausing at this point to consider a topic
on which he could write to make the letter of reasonable length, and
falling back on the one subject which occupied the majority of his
thoughts.

‘The steamship progresses favourably and we hope she will make her
maiden voyage within a year or so. Rivalry grows between our Line and T
& M. As you know the first clipper into the East India Docks in
London with a new cargo of tea commands the higher prices and
competition between the captains of the clippers of rival companies
springs up automatically. Ships are now racing across the seas to be the
first in port and folk here in London are even placing wagers as to
which ship will be first home. Of course, other companies are involved
too, but our greatest rivals are those afore-mentioned.

‘Giles became involved (almost) in a brawl last week because someone
dared to lay his wager against our line in favour of T & M.’

The letter ended, rather abruptly, as if he had
suddenly thought that Lavinia may not be interested in the only topic
upon which Jonathan found he could write at length. It was strange that
the quiet, reserved Jonathan could release such thoughts in a letter.
Yet Lavinia, too, found herself in a similar position. It seemed that
for both of them it was easier for them to put their thoughts down on
paper, in the rather more impersonal form of a letter, than if they were
conversing face to face. In her reply, Lavinia was somewhat surprised to
find herself saying things to him she would never have dared to say
directly to him.

‘I am quite well settled here,’ she wrote, ‘and happy, but I do miss
Grandfather and all of you so much.

‘I am so glad the steamship progresses—will it be ready by the time
the new canal opens? I would think that the first ships to make use of
the much shorter route would reap the most benefit—and I remember you
saying that clippers would be unable to use the canal.

‘I can sympathise with Giles’ feeling at hearing disparagement of
our Line—but please tell him to take care, it will hardly help the
Company if he gets himself harmed, even in its defence!’