Page 18 of Searching for Mr Tilney

‘Cluck, cluck, you have no idea, how perfectly foul,’ Jane retorts, and then she laughs, throwing her head back as if she’s made a huge joke. At the same time, an image comes into my mind of a good-looking young man, a good few years older than myself. He is tall and dark-haired, with very intense eyes. I feel my heart flutter with pleasure.

‘If you are referring to Mr Fowle, as your poor attempt at a joke must hint, then I cannot tell you.’

‘But I thought Jemmy wrote to say his friend was coming to Bath.’

‘Our brother is in Oxford and cannot always be relied upon.’

‘You’re just saying that so you are not disappointed if he does not appear. I hope he’ll come; it is such a long time since I saw our dabbling duck.’

‘Mr Fowle’s schooldays with our father are a long time ago … he’s on his second curacy now at Welford.’

‘And do you still like him as much as you ever did?’ Jane asks.

I have a feeling that Cassandra will not divulge her innermost thoughts and feelings.

‘I like him well enough,’ I reply.

‘Like him! Cassy, you are too reserved, and I do not believe a word of it. Even when we held the first ever Christmas theatricals, anyone could see how you worshipped him. He was the kindest sort of brother then, another to add to our family lot. But, he’s always singled you out, and shown the greatest affection, you must admit that, and now the case is completely altered. He is a dashing young man of twenty four, and you are both of an age for falling in love.’

I smile, despite trying very hard not to let Jane see my feelings. ‘I do not think Mr Fowle sees me in any way other than one of his best friend’s little sisters. I’ve many hearts to conquer yet, you know, before I find a husband, and even if I should “set my cap” as our great-uncle might say, it will have to be on a rich gentleman to satisfy our mother.’

‘I shall keep Lucius at bay, do not fear, my dearest sister.’

‘It’s keeping our mother from propelling me into his path, that’s the true problem.’

Jane smirks. ‘All will be well … I shall distract her at the water fountain whilst you knock down the Pumper, and run mad to your lover. Whence, Mr Fowle will proceed to bend upon one knee and ask for your hand before whisking you off to Gretna for love in a rural cot, and an assignation at the blacksmith’s anvil. And once wed, our mother will have to give up her dreams of having you married off to our cousin.’

‘Jane, you have too much imagination, though I’ve never been to Scotland, and I would love to see a highland reel.’

We both burst out laughing, and suffer uncontrollable giggles until our mother turns with a warning look that we’ve seen many times before.

As it turns out none of the expected parties have arrived at the Pump Rooms after all, and though I am relieved not to have seen Lucius and his family I can hardly disguise my disappointment that Mr Fowle is not there.

‘He may come yet,’ says Jane, and I know none of my thoughts are hidden from her. ‘In any case, you are to attend a ball at the upper rooms this evening, and he is sure to be there. If only I could come with you.’

‘At this moment in time, Jane, I wish I was staying at home.’

‘You will think quite differently when you’re there, I am certain. I know you will never want for partners. And we know you are certain of securing at least one partner if Jemmy’s last letter is to be believed. Mr Fowle is on his way to Bath to rescue a certain young hen from being plucked by wily foxes.’

‘Oh, Jane, you are such a tease.’

‘I know, I cannot help it, but you must admit, dear sister, my observations conjure up such a good picture. And remember, you must make a note of everything - I want to know who was there, and what everyone said. And I need to know everything Mr Fowle says to you. For the purpose of literary research, of course.’

I shake my head at my little sister; we finish our water, and set off for home. Our great-uncle’s generosity means that the Pulteney Street townhouse has become our temporary home, at least for a while, and it is a good deal grander than any lodgings my father could have secured. It is a change from The Paragon where Aunt and Uncle Leigh-Perrot reside or Bennett Street, which is a little cramped, where our other cousins the Coopers live. It would be something to live in style in such a manner - a house in the country and a house in Bath. My mother certainly seems to be enjoying her time spent here, and is less susceptible to her frequent illnesses she seems to suffer at home. I am quite anxious about this evening, and will miss my sister’s company though our cousin Jane Cooper will be there, and I daresay we’ll have much to talk about if we’re left without partners.

I am dressed at last, and feel quite satisfied with my appearance, though I’m unwilling to believe that I look as beautiful as Jane tells me. My gown is adapted, a cast-off from Aunt Leigh-Perrot, but in the most ravishing duck-egg striped silk, and designed in the English style. My aunt has lent me a painted fan, and I’m wearing one of Jane’s ribbons in my hair, which has been styled, so most of it is piled up on top of my head, leaving a section to curl down one side. I can see the disappointment in Jane’s eyes at being left behind, and wish more than ever that she could come with me. But, the carriage is at the door, and I follow my parents to sit on the hard leather seats, waving a kiss to my sister who is quickly ushered back inside by the housekeeper.

Chapter Ten

The Assembly Rooms are lit up with torches glowing in the fading light. There is so much to see and take in, and I try to commit it all to memory because I know, however late it shall be, my sister will still be up when I get home and will want to know every last detail. The women look like unearthly creatures, exotic in their coloured silks and satins, with towering hair and feathers so tall I feel under-dressed and somewhat like a country rustic, which I suppose is exactly what I am. And even if I could, I’m not certain I should wish to be quite so fancily or saucily attired. They have the appearance of expensive dolls, the kind that mantua-makers show in their shop windows, with their false hair and rouged countenances.

A blur of people walk past me, and I’m smiling and curtseying everywhere I go. All of our relations are in attendance, the Motley-Austens with their son Lucius who grins and stares at me until I do not know where to look, cousins Jane and Edward Cooper with their father, Uncle and Aunt Leigh-Perrot, all smiling and making small talk, though, as Jane would say, eager to have one another over the moment they are out of earshot.

It’s while we are standing in the Octagon room waiting for things to happen that I become aware of him. Despite the furious paced chattering, and the high-pitched laughing, the great guffaws and the mounting excitement, I am suddenly aware, by some kind of sixth sense, that I am being scrutinised from a distance. When I look across the room to the party of people standing by one of the great mantelpieces his eyes connect with mine, and I feel the familiar pull, the fluttering deep inside me along with the wild beating of my heart. He’s here. Mr Fowle is here in the same room, and I dare not look at him any longer than it takes to acknowledge him with a smile. But in those seconds I’ve noted how much he’s changed since I last saw him. He’s taller, broader, and his hair, which a few years ago was wildly curly and tawny brown, has been slightly tamed, darkened to a charcoal shade that matches his eyes and the dark brows that give him a brooding look sometimes. I dare not look again, but I still feel his eyes watching me and cannot help but hope that he likes what he sees. Or is he wondering whatever became of Cassy Austen who once promised to be a beauty, but is hardly more than a country wench with little style and fashion.

My mother is securing a first dance with Lucius. He has improved since last summer when we saw him in Kent, he’s taller and more filled out, but there is still something wanting in his behaviour. Jane says she thinks he is quite mad, and I must admit there is something about him that unnerves me. I do not like to judge, but his previous conduct gave us reason on several occasions to be on our guard. He is quite a handsome young man now, but he possesses the arrogance of a youth who thinks his attentions to young women must be wanted. He preens, and stares, not only at me, I notice, but also at any young woman who takes his fancy. He makes remarks about them to his father, seeming not to care whether he’s heard or not, though his mother’s hand on his arm indicates that she, at least, disapproves. I care not for his regard, and while it pleases me to know our cousins, I feel Mama is still hoping for something more between us. Not that she would force me to anything I do not wish, but I know her hopes for me and what I feel is my duty to my family are inextricably linked. My parents require me to make a good marriage, one which will help the family prosper, and what could be more easily accomplished, than by marrying a wealthy cousin? We are too young to marry, though I feel the wheels are being set in motion to that end. I would be foolish to discount it entirely. And yet … I know my heart, and it does not yield easily where it has no desire. In fact, I know it will not give way at all.

I cannot remember the first time I realised I was falling in love with Tom Fowle. I think I’ve always loved him in one way or another, though he behaved only ever as a brother to his sister when I was very young. I felt something change between us when he visited us in Steventon last spring, though I hardly dared hope that what I felt for him was reciprocated. But, his manners were different during those few days he stayed with us, and he treated me like an equal for the first time. Sitting in the garden with Jemmy on a sunny day, he poured my tea, and fussed over me with shawls and blankets at the slightest breeze. He made me a daisy chain and crowned me “Queen of Steventon”. Placing the ring of small white flowers in my hair so gently, the touch of his fingers on my curls stayed with me throughout that golden afternoon.