Searching For Captain Wentworth (18 page)

It was something
of a magnificent spectacle to see all of Bath
decked out in their finery at the Upper Rooms. The
place was full,
every passage
and staircase bursting with giggling debutantes, dour
matrons, and gambling card-players, waving to other
revellers in
recognition as
they tripped along in the tide, washing them through
the doors of the ballroom, the tea and card-rooms.
Our party headed
f
or the Octagon
Room. Whilst Mr Elliot and Emma jostled for the
best view by the fire, simultaneously grabbing the
finest place from
which to be
admired, I glanced round to take it all in, committing
to memory the beauty of the women dressed in bright
silks and
white muslin,
the splendour of the men in dark evening dress. The
looking glasses over each mantelpiece captured a
cluster of
fractured images
displaying a handsome head, the eager glances of
a young girl, or the silk-shod foot of a nimble
dancer in each pane
of scalloped,
rococo glass. Plumes nodded, satin rustled and
diamonds glistened under chandeliers sparkling with
candlelight.

In the glowing
room incessant chatter was the order of the evening,
the rising hum of expectant voices reaching a
crescendo as the
rooms filled. A low
guffaw, a crystal laugh, and the distant tuning
of instruments were the sounds I caught above the
rest. Candles
guttered as the
noise of a hundred voices, all talking at once, rose
in the heat, along with the scents of orange
blossom, jasmine and
lavender,
masking those other smells of warming humanity, which
had my nose wrinkling at the sour odours seeping
from cloth, stale
with sweat.

I had a very
good view of the door and saw the second that the
Austens arrived. Wearing white muslin with a glossy
spot, setting
off her slender
figure, Jane dashed through first, child-like in her
movements, her bright eyes alert. With her hair
swept up into a
pretty
arrangement of twisted silk, several tendrils escaped from
her cap, kissing the base of her neck as she moved.
As she quietly
observed all
before her, I couldn’t help wishing I could read her
thoughts. I wondered if she, like me, would be
storing away the
evening’s
conversations to be brought out and examined for
inspiration later on. Also in white, her pretty
sister came in next
wearing an
elegant muslin embroidered at the hem. Mr and Mrs
Austen followed in their wake, dressed in their
comfortable country
clothes, both
smiling and bowing to all their friends.

I almost didn’t
see him at first. Charles came dawdling along
at the back stopping to talk to his friends, to
listen attentively, or
laugh out
loud at a shared joke. I imagined they must be other
sailors from the way he greeted them. Dressed for
the evening I
couldn’t help
staring as he nonchalantly strolled across the room.

Every detail of
his appearance sharpened into focus. Dark curls fell
on the high collar of his black coat, cut to
display a flash of white
silk
waistcoat with buttons faced in pearl, that led the eye to the
swell of satin where his breeches began. Defining
his muscular
legs, they
finished at the knee where silk stockings delineated the
curve of shapely calves leading down to a pair of
gleaming dancing
shoes. He looked
beautiful if I can use that word to describe a man,
and I knew I was not the only woman in the room who
glanced his
way or sat up in
their chair. I wasn’t standing near the fire, but I felt
the rush of heat on my cheeks as I stared.
Something about the cut
of his
dark coat emphasized his broad shoulders, and the crisp
cotton kerchief at his neck exaggerated his tanned
features making
him stand out
from the crowd. His air of self-assurance might have
come across as arrogance in anyone else, but to me,
he simply
looked perfect
lighting up the room with a personality so magnetic,
he seemed to draw everyone around him. The family
took up
station by the
fireplace opposite. Jane glanced across with a smile,
and I saw her point me out to her brother. Our eyes
met across a sea
of people and
Charles smiled broadly. I cannot say what made my
heart flutter at that moment, but I felt he’d
curled a finger round my
heart. I
couldn’t sustain his gaze and looked away.

‘Who is that
fellow over there with the Astons?’ said Mr
Elliot, making me feel instantly cross that he
couldn’t even
remember his
neighbours’ name.

‘I’m sure I have
no idea,’said Mrs Randall, looking at me as
if she were sure I could supply the answer. ‘He is
a very fine
looking
gentleman. Perhaps he is a relation of the Austen family; a
noble peer, I daresay, by his attitude and
deportment.’

I spoke out. ‘He
is the Miss Austens’ brother, Mr Charles
Austen, lately returned from his duties at sea as a
lieutenant on the
frigate,
Endymion.’

‘Oh, a sailor,’
uttered Mr Elliot, turning back with utter
disdain. ‘Well, I suppose a clergyman’s son has to
make his way in
the world as any
other. But he should be careful about giving
himself such airs or he will be sorry when he is
found out to be a
nobody; a person
of obscure birth. I might have guessed he was no
gentleman for his face is the colour of my mahogany
secretaire.’

‘The Navy has
done so much for us that I am convinced of
sailors having more worth and warmth than any other
set of men in

England,’ I
said, but even as I uttered the words I felt sure I was
repeating something I’d heard spoken before. They
came out so
naturally that I
couldn’t stop them.

‘I suppose the
profession has its uses but I have my own
objections to the Navy’s place in society. Men who
would never
have been raised
to honours in the past are now moving in the same
circles as their betters, though I can assure you
not one would find
a friend in me.
Besides, I could never be seen consorting with such
weather-beaten creatures. A sailor is old before
his time; a man’s
youth is cut off
in its prime. They are exposed to every sort of foul
weather and as a consequence are as wrinkled as a
walnut and not
fit to be seen.’

I was just
thinking that this speech had more than a familiar
ring to it when I chanced to see that its effects
on two people
standing less
than two feet away had been both painful and
mortifying. Unknown to me Jane and Charles had
walked over
from their place
on the other side of the room.

They’d obviously
heard every word judging from their expressions,
though they both
assumed smiles
as soon as they saw that I, too, was quite horrified
by the conversation that had just taken place.

Mr Elliot did
not acknowledge them for the second time and I
saw Emma turn, linking her arm in his to lead him
away. Mrs
Randall smiled
at my friends, but followed the other two, so I was
left alone to think how I could possibly apologize
for their
abominably rude
behaviour.

I didn’t know
what to say or how to start. I couldn’t bring my
eyes to look at Charles even though I knew he was
looking at me
intently and was
very thankful that Jane was the first to speak.

‘Well, is there
anyone here worthy of our notice, do you
think?’ Her face was alive with humour, her words
peppered with
irony.

‘Only the
first-rates, eh, Miss Elliot?’ Charles declared with a
smirk and a wink.

I knew they were
teasing, but I couldn’t decide if their
comments were in reaction to my family’s rudeness,
or an allusion
to their pompous
and snobbish behaviour, and I didn’t know how
to reply.

‘And speaking of
which, Miss Elliot,’ he continued, ‘do you
see the lady over there in white whispering in the
ear of the
gentleman that
she insists is her nephew? That’s the Dowager, Lady
Nethercott.’

‘Oh, goodness,’ I
said, hoping to sound suitably impressed,
though from what I could see she was dressed in
sheer, clinging
muslin, a style
for young women half her age with the bloom of
youth painted on her face with a heavy hand. Her
companion was
gazing at her in
a way I thought unlikely for a nephew to look at his
aunt.

‘Do you mean the
old lady both nakedly and expensively
dressed, exposing far more bosom than she ought at her age?’
quipped Jane.

‘Hush, my dear
sister, please lower your voice! No one is old
in Bath or can expose too much flesh!’

‘Charles, you
have quite misled Miss Elliot,’ Jane scolded.
‘My dear friend, it is clear that my brother has
picked her out for
amusement.’

Charles grinned.
‘Well, perhaps I did, but you seemed to share
your part in the joke.’

‘Now look, our
neighbour cannot think what to make of us,’
said Jane taking my arm. ‘Shall we start again? Let
us pretend that
we have not yet
been introduced. Miss Elliot, it is a delight to see
you again. You remember my brother Charles, I
think.’

I nodded, unable
to suppress a smile, and plucking up the
courage to look up found him gazing steadily at me,
a flicker of
amusement
crossing his face. ‘You have not forgotten me since
Saturday, I hope, Miss Elliot.’

It was my turn
to smile. ‘No, I remember you very well.’

‘You saw Miss
Elliot on Saturday?’ asked Jane, looking from
one to the other of us.

‘Yes, we
happened to bump into one another in Sydney
Gardens. Unfortunately for Miss Elliot, she was
craving solace and
quiet. That she
did not find it is quite certain, as I am afraid I rather
forced her to enjoy my company and urged her to
take a turn with
me.’

‘I remember you
saying that you had no wish to go out
walking that day,’ Jane continued, searching her brother’s face. Her
eyes sparkled in a most teasing way. ‘But, perhaps
the sight from
an upstairs
window of a pretty girl entering the gardens quite
changed your mind.’

‘I think perhaps
it was not so much his choice of companion that led him into the gardens as
much as the desire to find a level
walk,’ I said, before she could insinuate anything more. ‘I believe
you were climbing up Beechen Cliff, Miss Austen, a
jaunt that
requires both
stamina and endurance. You would have to be a very
good walker to contemplate such exercise and
perhaps the idea of
such a testing
ramble proved too much for some.’

Jane laughed.
‘How refreshing it is to find someone who can
tease my little brother as well as I can. What do
you think, Miss
Elliot? Will he
dare to give us his opinion? I cannot wait to hear his
answer.’

‘I will have you
know that I am an excellent walker and any
time that either of you would like the challenge of
a walk up that
noble cliff, I
will be only too pleased for you to witness my vigour
and fortitude in the accomplishment.’

‘Miss Elliot,
how can we refuse him?’

‘I do not think
we can.’

‘No, indeed.
Charles, let us meet very soon. Miss Elliot, I
hope if you have no other engagements that you will
be able to
accompany us. I
expect my sister will join us also, and if the fine
weather continues, we should consider a picnic.’

‘Miss Elliot, do
you think you would be able to come?’

Lieutenant
Austen, I discovered, had dark brown eyes flecked with
amber and gold, at once attentive and almost
hypnotic as he held
my gaze.

‘I hope so,
though I am not certain of our present
engagements.’