Page 23 of Searching for Mr Tilney

There was a little money over, and Mama said I might choose a parasol. When we walked into Sevenoaks, we saw some pretty cream parasols in the shop window, but I had my heart set on the dearest green silk, edged with fringe that I spied on a shelf behind the counter. It is my very own parasol, and I feel most proud and very grown-up.

Thomas teased me mercilessly when we went for a walk in the afternoon, and took it from me, parading along in imitation of what he flatters himself is matchless mimicry.

‘How very grave I’ve become,’ he declared in a high-pitched voice, one hand on his hip, ‘I fancy myself quite the little woman!’

We had the first sitting today - Mr Humphry came over to Sevenoaks, and made a sketch of Cassy to begin with. She was very pleased because Mr Humphry remarked on her watercolour paintings, and suggested she might be depicted looking very accomplished with her paintbrush in hand, and her painting box at her feet. When it came to my turn, I felt rather shy so Mr Humphry suggested I hold my parasol to give me something to think about, and then Thomas came in to pull faces, immediately putting me at my ease, which helped very much. He is such a clown - I could not help but smile, and I know forever more I shall not be able to look at my picture without remembering my cousin Thomas who made me smile and feel less afraid. Mr Humphry said he liked my expression, and he was very pleased with the first sketches. He’s coming again tomorrow, and will make notes on colour and perhaps try a drawing of me sitting down too.

***

I think my mother thought our uncle was to make some sort of financial settlement on us when he said he wanted to “help the girls”, and though I think she likes the idea of us being pictured for posterity with the idea of reminding our Kentish cousins that we are young, desirable, and marriageable, there is no guarantee that we’ll be married off or left a legacy, and she mentions the fact every time she’s on her own with my father. I was about to knock upon her chamber door this morning before I went down to break my fast, when I heard them discussing the situation. Thankfully, Cassy has no idea how much our mother is hoping such an alliance will take place.

‘If only we knew exactly what Uncle Frank has in mind. If a settlement were to be drawn up conferring a certain amount a year if the match were to take place, I would feel easier,’ said my mother.

‘But, Cassy is full young to be engaged just yet, and Uncle Frank may still leave something for the girls, regardless of them being allied with their cousins. However much we might think it a fine thing for either of them, I do not think Cassy shows the slightest inclination for Lucius or matrimony, and besides, I have a feeling her heart may be engaged elsewhere.’

‘I suppose you mean Mr Fowle,’ answered Mama. ‘He may well be smitten - indeed, I have always suspected he admired her, but I am not assured of Cassandra’s feelings. In any case, we do not see the Fowles very often, and he may yet look around for a wife who will bring her own portion to add to a curate’s stipend.’

‘They’ve always been very fond of one another, and we know he always asks after Cassy whenever he sees Jemmy. If anything, absence makes the heart grow fonder. You know how true that can be, my dear,’ said my father. ‘You surely have not forgotten how it was with us.’

There was a pause, and I knew my father was kissing my mother on her cheek. I took the moment to knock, and when prompted opened the door. They were standing hand in hand looking like any young couple, though I knew it was many years since they’d married in Bath, the city they loved, where much of their courting was played out.

Breakfast is a splendid affair at the Red House, and my uncle who has a hearty appetite always has a fine selection of breads, toast, pound cake and coffee or chocolate to drink. Thomas had a brown moustache after drinking his chocolate this morning, and insisted on speaking French when I tried to point it out to him from the opposite side of the table. When he stopped being silly and making me laugh he asked if we could be excused to go riding.

‘Don’t forget Mr Humphry will be along later,’ said G-U-F. ‘He’s occupied at Knole this morning, making sketches of Madame Baccelli.’

‘It is a very shocking business; the way the Duke of Dorset conducts his life for all to see,’ said Mama, lowering her voice. ‘We heard La Baccelli thinks nothing of scandalising all of Kent by wearing the Sackville jewels at every ball. We read all sorts of gossip in the newspaper. Tell me, Uncle Frank, is it true what they say about the Duchess of Devonshire falling for his charms? She’s no more sense than Lady Foster or Lady Derby had.’

G-U-F nodded, and buttered another slice of toast. ‘Aye, ’tis too true. A mistress in town and one in the country, and others in Paris besides if I’m not mistaken. The duke cannot resist a pretty face, and the women all fall over him in a rush to be first at the post. He’s the most eligible gentleman of his generation, if a man of few words, but he equally knows the devastating effect of his handsome looks. The duke is never happy unless he has several amours and intrigues going on at the same time.’

I was fascinated, and as my mother realised I was rapt by the conversation she made her usual comment about little pitchers having big ears. It’s always very disappointing and happens so often when a conversation is becoming particularly interesting.

My sister said she would finish some work she had put by, and wait for Mr Humphry, as she was to sit first, and she and my mother took themselves off to the garden. Lucius disappeared, saying something about finding some sport, thankfully, so we didn’t feel we needed to ask him if he wanted to join us.

Thomas and I set off down the familiar path to the stables where we could hear Allegro whinnying as he recognised our feet crunching on the gravel. I have no fear of him now and threw my arms round his neck, groomed to silk, like a satin ball gown. He nuzzled my hand, searching for the sugar lump I always brought him.

Thomas led him out, while I fetched the steps, rehearsed in the events of mounting as if I’d been riding all my life.

‘I’ve got an idea, Jane,’ he said, checking the saddle and securing the reins. ‘Why don’t we ride down as far as Knole today … I promised to take you. I know an old gate that leads into the grounds … my grandfather used it all the time when I was little.’

‘Do you think we ought? Won’t we be trespassing?’ I asked. ‘And, I shouldn’t like to be late for Mr Humphry.’

‘Mr Humphry will be occupied at Knole for most of the day, I’m certain. Look, I’ve got two slabs of cake and a bottle of spruce beer in my bag. I don’t suppose we’ll be missed for one minute. We can sit and enjoy our picnic, watching the deer.’

It was too tempting, and Thomas convinced me that all should be well. No one would mind, he said, he’d been on his own many times and never seen a soul in the woods.

‘But, it will be a long way for you to walk, will it not?’ I said, conscious that Thomas always kept to my side where he could, making sure I did not fall.

‘I thought we might ride together,’ he said, grinning at me, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. ‘I’ll sit behind you … there’s plenty of room; you’re such a little thing.’

The heat of the sun was already making me feel hot, and Thomas complained that he was wearing too many clothes. He threw off his coat, and knotted the arms round his waist before unbuttoning his waistcoat and shoving the garment into a bag that he slung across his back. I didn’t stop, for a minute, to think of any impropriety or anything else. All I could think was what fun we’d have - it was such an adventure!

***

Caroline,

Bath, Somerset

December 1975