Page 5 of Visiting Miss Austen (Miss Austen #2)

Luncheon was served promptly at one o’clock; and I helped myself to the selection of meat tart, cheese, thinly sliced bread and butter, and dressed salad from the sideboard. Everyone else at the table was tucking in too, and for a time, no one spoke as they were too busy eating .

Then Lucinda enquired politely, ‘How is Uncle Max, Aunty Fliss? Is he well? ’

I took a sip from my glass of lemonade and deliberated. Taking up my cutlery again, I said ‘Quite well. Thank you for asking, Lucy.’

I decided it best not to mention his wine tipple .

‘And missing you, no doubt,’ said Jane, smiling at me from the other side of the table.

‘Perhaps. But it is understandable. We have not been apart for this many weeks since we were married.’

‘You won’t be able to go off on jaunts so easily when you begin having children, Felicity,’ remarked Elizabeth with a laugh. ‘At least not until they have grown somewhat or you have a trustworthy nanny, like Edward and me. Of course, we also have Jane’s dear sister, Cassandra, who has kindly offered to lend a hand while we are in Bath. You should write back to Max and remind him that he should relish his freedom while he can!’

Edward nodded in agreement. ‘Yes, I love our children dearly, but being away from them is a tonic for my ears.’ He smiled at his wife knowingly as only a father with a number of small children under six could.

Jane and I looked at each other. I had told her of Max and my decision to remain childless, and she approved wholeheartedly and did not judge me. It was not a secret as such, and she had undoubtedly told Cassie, but neither of them had let it slip to Elizabeth. For that, I was grateful. But now it was awkward, and I felt obliged to say something. But I had a feeling Elizabeth might choke on the cherry tomato she had just popped into her mouth if I told her the true state of our situation.

Fortunately, Lucinda, who was not privy to the information either, had been sitting quietly and now offered her own solution. ‘Should I write to Mama and suggest that Papa visit Uncle Max for a time? He does so love to go fishing with him.’

‘That is sweet of you to think of it, Lucy,’ I replied. ‘Yes, please do. I am sure Max would be glad of his brother’s company. ’

It was a good idea. Tobias was pragmatic and would keep Max from brooding .

Lucinda smiled happily and said she was glad to be able to help. Jane suggested then that we visit the circulating library after luncheon. Elizabeth was neatly distracted with the thought of getting a romance novel for herself and something for Edward. ‘Oh yes, he does so enjoy comic novels. Don’t you, dear?’

Jane winked at me, and I sighed in relief .

The day was fair and perfect for an afternoon stroll. Queen Square was most pleasing to the eye, and the streets were busy, but not so much that we were jostled. Passers-by smiled and nodded, and one young man even doffed his hat to us.

We strolled two abreast—Elizabeth and Lucinda in front, the former chattering and looking in shop windows and the latter listening quietly but offering decisive opinions when asked for them.

I was glad my young niece had been accepted so readily by Jane’s relations and was proving to be a help and not a hindrance, as Max had wondered in his letter.

‘Lucy is most agreeable,’ whispered Jane. ‘I can see why your sister-in-law thinks she should marry.’

‘But quite so soon?’ I replied. ‘She is only eighteen and barely out of pigtails.’

‘You yourself married at twenty,’ countered Jane. ‘It is not so much older than Lucy is now, and she is mature for her age.’

‘That was an exceptional circumstance,’ I said.

‘By “exceptional circumstance”, do you mean you fell in love with Mr Stonyface?’ teased Jane.

‘I think you’ll find that Mr Stonyface fell in love with me and proposed forthwith,’ I corrected.

‘Yes, the circumstances surrounding that event are still rather shady, but I shall get the truth of it one day.’

Not if I can help it , I thought, remembering Max’s drunken proposal in the field behind our house. That was a story best left untold, especially to an aspiring author.

After a short walk from Queen Square, we turned left at the end of the road and reached our destination: Milsom Street. It was the most fashionable street in Bath and where the wealthy came to shop, if the number of ladies in richly coloured silks and feathered hats was anything to go by.

The circulating library was located about halfway along, in a narrow honey-coloured limestone building. It had six windows, three small on top and three larger on the bottom, and was sandwiched between a bank and a bookseller—the prices of whose books Jane pronounced ‘extortionate’.

‘Why’, she asked, ‘would we bother buying a book for two pounds when we could borrow multiple books for a monthly subscription of five shillings?’

I agreed that it was a much more sensible arrangement.

Elizabeth wanted to stop in at a milliner’s across the street, but Jane was itching to go to the library, and so was Lucinda. In the end, we said that we would meet Elizabeth inside and order a book for Edward. ‘Anything that’s comical or adventurous—Jane knows what he likes.’

I was not sure of the protocol, but Jane said it was a matter of perusing the library catalogue and choosing a title. The clerk would then retrieve it for us. We could also take light refreshments in the reading room if we so desired.

‘How civilised,’ I said, wondering if there was any proper food like cake to be had. I could definitely get used to visiting the library if there was cake.

I myself was not interested in scouring the catalogue. So I waited, feeling a bit bored, while Jane and Lucinda pored over it, discussing various titles. I went over to the other side of the room to look out the window and saw Elizabeth crossing the street, clutching a hatbox, which made me smile. She seemed to have ventured out more with the aim of shopping than visiting the library.

When I returned to the counter, Jane was checking out a book for Edward and already had one for herself sitting on the counter.

‘What’s that?’ I asked, peering at the brown leather cover.

‘Volume two of The Monk by Matthew Lewis. It’s just been returned,’ she said, sounding pleased.

‘What’s it about?’

Jane motioned me away from the counter and said in a low voice, ‘I will tell you later. It’s rather scandalous. The clerk warned me it was not for young ladies and was reluctant to let me have it. But I insisted, saying that I had read volume one and had not been overly shocked.’

‘Gracious,’ I said, intrigued.

Jane grinned. ‘Shall we see if there’s anything to eat in the reading room? Lucinda has already gone in.’

‘Ooh, yes.’

I had high hopes. But in the reading room, there were only a few hard-looking biscuits and tiny fish paste sandwiches, neither of which appealed, and cups of fruit-flavoured cordial that was bright orange. It was most disappointing.

Elizabeth joined us presently and agreed, saying it was not edible, so we decided to take our leave and have afternoon tea at home. Lucinda and Jane strolled off together discussing their books, so Elizabeth fell into step with me.

‘I hope you don’t mind,’ she said conversationally. ‘But I took the liberty of picking up this from the library. I thought you might find it helpful.’

Reaching into the pocket of her striped skirt, she drew out a pamphlet. She handed it to me, and I sighed inwardly when I saw the title: The Mother’s Companion: A Guide to Pregnancy and Child-Rearing.

I promptly handed it back to her. ‘That was kind of you, but I won’t need to read it.’

There was an awkward silence as she put the pamphlet back in her pocket, and we continued walking. But the subject was obviously still uppermost in her mind as she said, ‘How long have you been married now, Felicity?’

‘Two and a half years,’ I replied warily, having a notion of where this was going.

‘Forgive me for asking, but is there a problem?’

‘A problem?’ I echoed.

‘Yes, I feel for you as I myself was pregnant almost immediately. In truth, I believe I conceived on our wedding night. But two a half years —that is a long time to wait.’

She leaned in closer to me. ‘Can he not?’ she whispered, then lifted her little finger into the air along with an eyebrow.

I inhaled sharply. That was going too far!

‘It is a common issue and nothing Max need be ashamed of,’ continued Elizabeth blithely. ‘Edward was the same for a while between our second and third. But the doctor prescribed a daily tablespoon of ginseng and a cold bath once a week, and he was ready to go once again—’

‘I assure you, Max has no problems in that department,’ I interrupted hastily, not wanting further details of Edward’s marital prowess.

‘Oh, then why have you not ...?’

Lord, she was not going to let it alone.

‘It is simple enough,’ I said tightly. ‘I have decided not to have children, and Max supports my decision. I thank you for your concern, but we are both perfectly happy, and there is no problem or anything else that needs discussing.’

Elizabeth seemed not to know what to say to this except to mutter ‘extraordinary’ under her breath and was content to be silent for the remainder of the walk until we reached the house .

***

I mentioned the conversation to Jane later on when we were getting ready for the ball, and she was shocked at Elizabeth’s gumption.

‘I am sorry she interrogated you so. She should not have made enquiries of that nature,’ she said, smoothing her white muslin down over her pink silk slip. I gestured she should turn around so I could do up the small ivory buttons. ‘It is only because she is popping them out left, right, and centre that she thinks every other woman must do so as well.’ She shrugged her shoulders in indignation, and the button I was struggling to do up slipped out of my grasp .

‘Speaking of popping out, stand still. These buttons are fiddly.’

‘Sorry.’

‘Well, I told her the truth, and she barely managed to disguise her shock. I am only mentioning it to you because she may want to discuss it, so be warned.’

‘If she does, I will say that she needs to keep her nose out of your affairs!’

‘All right, but perhaps word it more gently. I do not want to offend my host when I have only just arrived. ’

I knew Jane could be snippy when she decided to voice her opinions.

Her buttons done, I turned my attention to my own white gown. It was the nicest and most expensive one I owned. The muslin was shot through with gold silk thread, and it had a small train. My dressmaker had assured me it was the height of fashion in Paris. Not that I’d had any chance to wear it yet living in Derbyshire—balls were few and far between in our part of the country.

Once we had affixed our white ostrich-feather headdresses, we were ready .

‘Good enough for first bench material I should think,’ Jane declared, looking at her reflection in the mirror.

‘First bench?’

‘Yes, the first bench is closest to the dancing and where the eligible young men can take their pick of a partner. Elder ladies and children are on the second bench.’

‘I should be on that one then since I am an old married woman,’ I said. ‘Look, I have crow’s feet.’ I scrunched up my eyes, causing faint wrinkles to fan out .

Jane giggled. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You will be on the first bench with Lucy and me. I expect you to be in high demand since you look so beautiful.’

‘You have to say that as you are my friend, but thank you.’

There was a light knock at the door, and Lucinda called out, ‘Are you ready? Can I come in?’

‘Speak of the devil,’ I murmured, and Jane giggled.

‘Yes, come in, Lucy!’ she called back.

I had been buoyed up by Jane’s compliment, but seeing Lucinda looking pretty as a picture in a flower-sprigged muslin made me deflate a little .

‘Aunt Elizabeth arranged my hair,’ she said, patting her updo self-consciously. Soft dark ringlets framed her heart-shaped face, and her pert bosom swelled propitiously above the low rounded neckline of her dress. In short, she was a peach ripe for the plucking. Mr Hart might have competition once the other young gentlemen clapped eyes on her.

If so, then he might be free to ask me to dance , I thought but quickly pushed the notion out of my head. I should not expect to be the object of his attention, not with my being married and delectable Lucinda on the scene. But there was nothing wrong with observing him from a distance, was there?

‘You look simply delicious!’ said Jane approvingly, and I nodded .

‘Lovely!’ I contributed.

But Lucinda looked anxious rather than pleased .

‘Is everything all right, dear?’ I enquired.

‘I confess I am nervous about attending the ball. I want so much to speak with Mr Hart again, but what if he does not come over?’

I let Jane do the reassuring while I filled my small green velvet reticule with a clean handkerchief, my fan, a tin of lip salve, a pot of rouge, a vial of scent, and some spare pins in case of a hair emergency. It rather bulged at the seams with all these items, but I deemed them all completely necessary.

‘He has said he wishes to become better acquainted, so I do not think you have anything to worry about,’ Jane soothed. ‘If he does not stand up with you at least once, I will be most surprised.’

‘Perhaps you should let Aunt Jane dance with him first t o determine if he is a man of consequence,’ I interjected, pulling on my gloves. ‘She is an excellent judge of character.’

I wiggled my brows at Jane, and she smirked .

Oh yes, both of us were eager to discover more about Mr Hart (on Lucinda’s behalf, of course!).

Even though the Upper Assembly Rooms—or ‘the rooms’, as Jane and Elizabeth referred to them—were situated not far from the house, a hackney was called for regardless. Edward did not want to walk the distance on crutches, and Elizabeth did not want to dirty the hem of her dress .

So just before seven o’clock, one gent in an evening suit and four ladies in muslins, full of excited anticipation of the evening ahead, were transported and deposited at our destination barely three minutes later. The driver commented with a laugh that his horse had hardly broken a sweat, but he obligingly helped us alight and was tipped for his trouble .

The exterior of the rooms was unassuming, a squat building of golden stone with a triangular portico. But I soon discovered it was not the case once inside. What a glorious and elegant sight met my eyes !

I found myself in an enormous rectangular dance room, painted eggshell blue with Grecian columns inset around the walls along with artworks and gilt-edged mirrors. I counted not one or two, but five crystal chandeliers lit with candles, and Jane told me there was space for at least 500 people. On this night, there were fewer than that number in attendance, but it was still crowded.

The first dance was about to take place; and with the swelling noise of the orchestra, the loud chatter of the throng, and the cloying heat, I felt a little dazed by the spectacle and wished I’d added smelling salts to my reticule.

When we had entered, Elizabeth had escorted Edward through to the octagon as he’d said he was quite happy to spend the evening playing cards, and she said she would see him settled but find us presently.

‘Quick, let us secure a spot on the first bench for the next dance while it is mostly unoccupied,’ urged Jane now.

An excellent plan , I thought and we pushed past the onlookers and sank onto the ‘bench’. It was a long high-backed settee with armrests and curved wooden legs. Upholstered in red velvet, it was placed at the front of the ballroom, giving us a clear view of the dance floor. It was also rather hard on one’s behind, being stuffed with horsehair or some such, but I supposed sitting in such a prime position was worth the discomfort .

I noticed we were gaining sharp looks from some of the other young ladies standing around the room, and there was whispering and peeking at us from behind fans going on. ‘Are you sure we can sit here?’ I hissed to Jane .

She shrugged. ‘You and Lucinda are high-ranking enough to warrant it, and Elizabeth mentioned she had informed the master of ceremonies of your presence in Bath. So do not worry about that. If anyone is likely to be turfed off the first bench, it is me.’

‘Let us pray that does not happen,’ I said. ‘At least before you have had one dance with an eligible gentleman.’

Speaking of eligible gentlemen, I surreptitiously scanned the groups of white-muslined ladies and tailcoated gentlemen who were performing a lively cotillion.

My heart skipped a beat when I caught sight of a certain someone.

I nudged Lucinda. ‘There is your Mr Hart,’ I said in a low voice .

‘Where?’ she said eagerly.

‘Over there, to the right.’

‘Ah, yes, I see. Oh, he is an elegant dancer,’ she whispered, a note of enthralment entering her tone .

Indeed he was, and though I attempted to watch other people, my eyes kept being drawn back to him. As well as being an elegant dancer, he also was not hiding the fact he was having a thoroughly good time, which I thought was capital. I approved of men who enjoyed dancing.

The dance ended, and the participants took their bows.

When Mr Hart straightened, he must have felt our collective gaze upon him as his eyes immediately roved over us ladies, as if he were at the butcher’s determining which was the choicest cut of beef .

Hastily, I averted my eyes and stared at the chandelier overhead. But it was too late .

‘Lord, have mercy,’ murmured Lucinda, who had started fluttering her fan at a great rate. ‘I can’t breathe. He’s coming over. ’