For Myself Alone: A Jane Austen Inspired Novel (22 page)

Yours ever,

Richard Pierce

“I do not understand,” I continue. “Richard meant for me to receive this before the notice from Mr. Dewberry arrived.”

“Look here at the date,” my father tells me. “This letter must have been misdirected at first, so it has come too late. Had you known all this before, would it have made a difference?”

I consider the question a moment and then shake my head. “This changes nothing; I would do exactly the same all over again. It pleased me very much to put the money to better use than if I had kept it. Besides, despite what he says here, I could never be certain Richard would stand firm against his father, now any more than in the past. No, I was satisfied with my decision before, and I will not allow this letter to cast doubt over it. But, dear me! According to this, we must expect Mr. Pierce to turn up at any moment.”

37

Telling Effects

When, a few days later, I deliver the news to Agnes of my bequest to her family, she exhibits far fewer scruples about it than did my brother. She accepts the gift at once with unabashed pleasure. However, the potential benefit to herself notwithstanding, Agnes can little appreciate my decision to divest myself of my fortune.

“I can understand your placing some of the money out of reach in the care of your friends, Jo, but how could you bear to part with all of it? I would not have believed you capable of such a rash act. Indeed, I thought you were only joking when you mentioned it before. Had I known you were serious, I should have counseled you very sternly against the idea.”

“Never mind, Agnes; it would have made no difference. Others tried to dissuade me, and I would not listen. You and I have chosen different paths, and we must, each of us, wish the other contentment in her own way.”

After I leave Agnes, I decide to call on Mrs. Evensong. The servant who answers the door shows me to the sitting room and goes to summon his mistress. When she enters, I am struck by how gaunt and pale, almost emaciated, she looks. The steady decline in Mrs. Evensong’s health has been so gradual that I suppose I have become accustomed to it by degrees. Yet, compared to the picture in my mind from former years, the change in her is startling. I can hardly keep my countenance.

“Ah, my dear Jo, how good of you to stop,” she says coming to me and taking both my hands with her thin ones. “I was hoping I would see you soon, for there is a delicate matter I wish to discuss with you.” My concern and curiosity are immediately aroused. We take seats together and she continues. “It is about Miss Pittman’s engagement.”

“Miss Pittman’s engagement?” I repeat stupidly.

“Yes, I was very much surprised to hear of it.”

Her mild tone and placid aspect gives no hint of the annoyance she might be expected to feel at the event. Still, I answer cautiously. “Of course. It was quite unexpected, even by her closest friends. I did not know you had become aware of it though, Mrs. Evensong. It has not yet been announced.”

“Your mama told me.”

“Ah. No doubt she thought you had a right to be acquainted with the fact, since Agnes was for so long intended to be your daughter-in-law. I pray you will not think too uncharitably of Miss Pittman for changing her mind.”

“I do not resent her for it, not in the least. I know she was perfectly free from any obligation to my son. Oh, you needn’t be afraid of owning it to me; Arthur has told me as much himself. I was in favor of the match when I thought they would make each other happy, but it is a long time since I believed that possible. So I harbor no ill will whatever against Miss Pittman for choosing someone who suits her better. Will you allow the same for my Arthur, Jo? Will you grant that he is also justified in preferring another?”

I study my folded hands for a diplomatic response to this uncomfortable turn in the conversation, finally saying, “I do not know that he does prefer another.”

“Of course he does, my dear.” She reaches over and strokes a gentle finger across my cheek. “If you cannot see it, it is only because some unpleasantness has clouded your vision.”

“It seems your son tells you everything.”

“Far from it. A mother does not need to be told when her child is in pain… or when he is in love either.”

“Oh, no,” I protest miserably. “You must not think he cares for me in that way, Mrs. Evensong. Arthur and I are friends… we were, that is.”

“Call it what you like, only tell me what has gone wrong between the two of you. Arthur will not speak of it, but you might if you choose. What can be so grave that you would turn your back on such a friend?” She draws a long, rasping breath and breaks into her now ever-present cough. “Come now, Jo,” she says when sufficiently recovered. “I can see you are nearly as wretched about this muddle as Arthur is.”

“Dear, dear Mrs. Evensong, I beg you would not concern yourself. You must save your strength.”

“Pray, excuse my meddling, but my son’s happiness is a matter of no small importance to me,” she says quietly. “Under normal circumstances, I would be slow to interfere, but I feel constrained to do what I can for him… whilst I am able. I fear I have too little time to be patient.”

I groan aloud, at the thought of losing this dear lady and also at her insistence that I should answer importunate questions about Arthur. Yet there is no help for it. The situation being what it is, I cannot deny her request. With tears now freely rolling down my cheeks, I abandon any further attempt to dissemble.

“Very well. If you must know, it is simply that I owe my first allegiance to Agnes. When Arthur cast her off, she was devastated. I mayn’t forgive him without being disloyal to her. Can you not appreciate the difficulty of my position?”

“Certainly, I can.” She is silent for a thoughtful moment. “Forgive me for saying so, my dear, but it seems to me that if Miss Pittman has put the matter behind her and is happy, you might consider yourself free to do the same. Holding on to resentment on her account will do no one, least of all yourself, any good service in the end.”

“But there is a principle at stake. Agnes’s current happiness does not change what Arthur has done.”

“My dear Josephine, you know you are like a daughter to me. I only want what is best for you, the same as I do my other children. Although nothing would please me more, I do not require that you should fall in love with my son. However, I must insist that you be fair to him. Hear Arthur’s side of the story before you condemn him. That is all I ask.” She leans forward and lifts my chin, looking me earnestly in the face. “You must promise me that you will do this.”

I answer without hesitation. “Yes, of course, Mrs. Evensong. For your sake, I will hear him out. I promise.”

Her taut expression eases and she slowly settles back into her chair. “Thank you, Jo. That means a great deal to me.”

~~*~~

Later, when I leave Mrs. Evensong, I come face to face with the subject of our discussion. He is coming in the door as I am preparing to go out. “Arthur! I… I did not expect to see you.”

“No, I am only this minute arrived from Oxford.”

I look away, but I can feel his eyes still resting upon me.

“How are you, Jo? You look well.”

“I am, thank you. You must have had a wet ride,” I say, noticing the condition of his greatcoat as he removes it.

“Yes.” An awkward silence sets in. “Well then… I suppose I mustn’t keep you standing here in the hall. Is your carriage coming for you? I did not see it without.”

“No, I came on foot.”

“I gather that the weather has been more obliging here; it does seem a fine day for a walk.”

“Indeed it is.” I feel as if I can bear his concentrated gaze no longer. “If will excuse me now…” I move toward the door.

“Please, one moment,” he says, stretching his hand out as if to touch my arm, and then withdrawing it self-consciously. “Can you tell me, is your brother Tom at home?”

“I believe so.”

“I wanted a word with him. Would you mind terribly if I escorted you back to Fairfield?”

“No, not at all.” It is more than mere politeness that makes me answer him so; a particular purpose has just popped into my head.

“Thank you. Let me just look in on Mother first, and then we can be off.”

As I wait for him, I plan my strategy. By way of an experiment, I think I shall see how Arthur takes the news that I am no longer a wealthy woman. He will find out about the business soon enough anyway, and to see his reaction for myself might be enlightening. If indeed he has any designs on me, which seems to be the developing consensus, I may well be able to observe his disappointment when I tell him.

We walk a little in silence before I bring the subject forward. “You have asked me nothing about the reason for our sudden trip to London, Arthur. Have you no curiosity why Tom was summoned to join us there?”

“I am sure it is none of my concern.”

“Nor is it a secret. My brother will tell you if I do not. No doubt he has already apprised you of certain facts about the unfortunate outcome of my brief engagement to Mr. Pierce – the threat of a lawsuit arising from my putting an end to it.”

“Yes,” Arthur says uncomfortably.

“Well, a few days ago I had a letter from his attorney confirming it. We went to London to finalize some arrangements prepared for that contingency. You see, I had already decided that rather than allow the courts to take my fortune, I would prefer give it away. So that is precisely what I have done. I have given most of it to Tom, and the rest to other worthy friends.” I watch for some sign that Arthur understands the import of the information, but his pensive expression reveals nothing remarkable. Receiving no reply, I prompt him further. “So the money is gone… all of it.”

After a moment, Arthur asks, “What do you intend that Tom should do with this generous windfall?”

“I intend that he should use it to pursue his ambitions in architecture.”

“Then the money is not gone to waste. I should say instead that you have invested it well, and I am very happy for your brother.”

In amazement, I confess, “This is hardly the reaction I expected from you, Arthur.”

“I am sorry to disappoint you, Jo. What did you wish me to say? That I am shocked? Well, I am not. I know you never cared about the money, that it was in many ways a burden to you. It seems the most reasonable thing in the world that you should put your inheritance to better use than… ” He breaks off mid-sentence.

“Better use than what?”

“Never mind. It is not my place to say.”

“I have asked for your opinion, Arthur. I invite you to give it freely and honestly.”

“It is only that… well… most people would probably advise you to hang on to your fortune with all your might, in hopes that it would soon secure for you a brilliant marriage. Yet it has always struck me that, with money for bait, what a young lady is most likely to catch is a greedy husband. You understand that as well, or you would never have attempted to keep your inheritance from becoming common knowledge when you went to Bath. That is why what you have done does not surprise me in the least.”

“You presume to know me very well, Mr. Evensong.”

“I hope that I do.”

I consider what he has said as we walk on. “So, you think I was right to do as I have?” I ask after some minutes.

“It matters very little what I think, but yes, I do.”

Suddenly, I become conscious of someone on horseback approaching from behind. I glance round to find that it is Richard Pierce.

~~*~~

The sight of Richard gives me a momentary start, but nothing more. Although I half anticipate being overtaken by a resurgence of the powerful feelings he once inspired, to my relief, it never comes.

At the same time that I see Richard, he recognizes me. “Miss Walker! How fortunate,” he says, dismounting at once and coming to my side. “I was just now on my way to Fairfield.”

“Yes, we have been expecting you, Mr. Pierce,” I respond guardedly. “You remember Mr. Evensong.”

“Of course. How do you do?” he says with a scowl. Arthur acknowledges Mr. Pierce with a small bow, and Richard goes on. “Now that I am come, sir, perhaps I may relieve you. It would be my honor to escort the lady the rest of the way. We have personal business to discuss which does not concern you.”

Arthur gives not an inch of ground. “That is an honor I had hoped to reserve for myself, Mr. Pierce.”

“But surely, you will yield to the lady’s wishes,” Richard counters.

“Naturally. What is your command, Miss Walker? Shall I stay or go? I am completely at your service.”

Looking about myself, I discover that Arthur and Richard are not the only ones awaiting my answer. Our little gathering has drawn the notice of several passersby. Any stranger in town attracts a degree of interested speculation, but a gentleman overheard to be called Mr. Pierce – the known identity of my reportedly jilted lover – must arouse particular curiosity.

“We all have the same destination in mind,” I say with feigned cheerfulness. “Let us walk on together.” We do so, mostly in a tense silence, until we reach the grounds of Fairfield. Once safely away from prying eyes, I stop. “Arthur, would you mind…?” He takes my meaning and moves off a little to stand his watch at a discrete distance. With a measure of privacy established, I continue, “Mr. Pierce, there is no need for you to go any farther. I can tell you now that you have wasted your time in coming.”

“That cannot be true. Did you not receive my letter?”

“I did.”

“Then you know the measures I have undertaken on your behalf, how I am prepared to intervene with my father to protect you. You shall be spared the embarrassment of appearing in court, and your fortune will remain nearly intact. All this I have done for you. Surely you cannot fail to perceive it.”

What I perceive in that moment is that he presumes himself heroic for offering to rescue me from the peril into which he himself has placed me! I can hardly keep my indignation in check. “Do you desire my thanks for your trouble? Is that why you are here, sir?”