Chapter Ten

Edmund

M eanwhile, Edmund had settled into his new life at Templeton Park. His habit was to rise before dawn, work for several hours in the grounds with the other men, and then walk up to the main house with his new friends to break his fast.

One particular morning, sitting at breakfast in the large kitchen with such a merry crowd, Edmund felt both relaxed and useful. The latter was a strange sensation, and not one that he had ever experienced in Bath. There, he was a figure who was recognized by all in the street, but as a useless ornament, the heir to the Templeton fortune and title, not as a man who had earned the right to anything through honest hard work or merit.

Edmund looked around the table at the smiling faces, the plain plates filled with fresh bread, cheese, and meat, and felt content.

I must tell Marianne more about my life here in my next letter. I had no idea work could be so much fun! And I am pleased every day to remember she has promised to wait before making any decision about being a governess. Oh, Lord, how I miss her! I wish I could have found the words to express how much I long for her in my last letter, but such sentiments are far better expressed face to face. There will be time enough for that when I return.

One of the men started ribbing Edmund about his work that morning. “You did not dig the hole for the fence post deep enough,” he said. “Could you not find the strength?”

“I tried my best,” Edmund said, “but ’twas slow going as there was a vast tree root blocking the hole and I had difficulty breaking through it.”

“Weakling!” another said.

“Do not worry Templeton,” the first man said, “we will make a proper man of you yet.”

Edmund grinned. “All the work I have already done digging ditches and putting up fences is making me feel more muscular.” He flexed a bicep ostentatiously.

The men started cheering at the sight and banged their cups on the table.

“Enough!” Cook said. “You men need to learn how to behave yourselves in my kitchen.”

The men all assumed expressions of contrition– and then burst into raucous laughter.

They are a merry bunch! I am enjoying working with them– and learning from them.

Then Mr. Grant appeared. “If I might have a word, Mr. Templeton, when you have breakfasted?”

“I will come now.” Edmund stood and followed Mr. Grant to his room.

“Pray sit down, sir,” the steward said. “I want to start by thanking you for all the help you have given us thus far.”

“I have done no more than your other workers,” Edmund said.

“You have done much more. ’Tis not only your physical labor that you have offered, but you have scrutinized many documents and suggested efficiencies and improvements.”

“Helping with the administrative paperwork of Templeton Park has given me much pleasure.”

I can scarce believe I am saying this, but ’tis true.

“Although,” Edmund continued, “I sincerely hope I have not been guilty of interference? ”

“No, quite the reverse,” Mr. Grant said. “Your contribution has been invaluable, especially as I have not been on top of things since my illness, which, thank the Lord, is lifting at last. And I have looked at the plans for the new workers’ cottages that you gave me yesterday. You have indeed been burning the midnight oil.”

“What do you think of the designs?” Edmund asked.

“They are inspired! These new cottages will have more light, and by virtue of their modern construction will be warmer and less damp than the present dwellings, many of which are sadly not fit for purpose, particularly for those workers with families.”

“I am glad! And I think ’tis important to site the cottages in a more suitable area, for it does not matter how perfectly they are designed if they are too near the river and will flood– oh, please accept my hearty apologies for babbling on, but I find I have developed a passion for design and long for the plans to become reality.”

“Well,” Mr. Grant said, “a letter came from your father this morning, to say he will visit us later this afternoon. I will show him your drawings.”

“Papa is coming here? How wonderful!”

And how terrifying. I wonder if he is still angry with me. I wonder, too, how much he told Mr. Grant of the real reason I came here– that I was in disgrace and had to be sent away until the gossip died down.

As Edmund walked back to join the men, a footman handed him a letter with a small bow.

’Twill be another from Mama, no doubt urging me to learn important lessons from my enforced exclusion from the season.

Edmund shoved the letter into the pocket of the rough jacket he had taken to wearing every day.

If my friends in Bath could but see me now, sporting these practical but far from stylish garments! I have not worn my usual tailored jackets and skin-tight pantaloons since my arrival, nor a fancy cravat, for such attire would have invited more teasing from the men, as well as being supremely impractical for the physical tasks I have been undertaking.

Edmund spent the rest of the morning working outside. In his next break, he remembered what was in his pocket and sat away from the others as he pulled out the crumpled paper.

Ah! This is not from Mama. ’Tis from Selina. The hand is similar, for sure, but Selina is wont to write the E of my name rather more flamboyantly. She started to do this when we were children, to tease me, and now it has become a habit. But wait! I must look inside, for the letter could be from Marianne.

Edmund tore open the seal and looked at the end.

Yours,

Mrs. Marianne Pembroke.

How formal! That did not bode well. But there was a whole letter to read before Edmund might be forced to give up hope.

Dear Mr. Templeton,

I thank you for your letter. ’Twas fascinating to hear about all you have been doing, and kind of you to share details of your new life with me.

That was more like it! Fascinating was an appreciative word, was it not? So was kind . Edmund felt exceedingly pleased that Marianne appreciated how diligently he had thrown himself into his new work.

For I am determined to make her proud of me, particularly as she was rightly disappointed by my recent behavior in Bath.

“Templeton!” came a shout. “Five minutes, then back to work. We must finish the fence.”

Edmund gave a cheery wave of acquiescence and returned to the letter.

Poor Nelson has been very ill, but George has worked his medical magic... I have recently received a letter from my friend Charlotte in the Lake District; she has found me a position in a household nearby. I am not at liberty to delay, as the family are keen to appoint a governess as soon as possible. First, I will travel to my parents’ house in Clifton, to sort out various books and necessities, then I plan to proceed to the Lakes by stagecoach.

Edmund’s heart sank– oh, why had Marianne not waited as she had promised?

Perchance she rates me very low, especially when compared to her husband, the gallant war hero.

Edmund stuffed the note in his pocket and ran back to his work. Never had he worked so fast or furiously. He dug holes, rammed in posts, and pounded with a hammer as if his life depended on it.

“Careful, Templeton!” one of the other men said. “You will split the fence post with that sort of treatment.”

How has everything gone so wrong? Did Marianne not realize that ’twould take time for me to adjust and make myself worthy of her love? For I certainly said as much– did I not?

Edmund put his hammer down. What had he said? He had asked her not to make a quick decision about becoming a governess, yes– but had he begged her not to leave because he loved her with all his heart, body, and soul?

But surely she must have known that any talk of love had to wait till I was completely worthy to seek her hand?

The scales fell from Edmund’s eyes.

Marianne can have no idea of the depth of my affection! She must be thoroughly confused, for all she has heard from me is a criticism of her choice of employment, which I described as “lonely drudgery”– and the arrant nonsense I spouted about desiring to remain unwed for years, if not forever.

Besides, a young woman in her position is not afforded the luxury of waiting; not all are born with a silver spoon in their mouths. How blind I have been, in so many ways. And what a fool I am.

“Edmund, my boy! There you are!” Lord Templeton stood beside the fence. “Mr. Grant said you would be out here. I must say I am impressed to see you doing an honest day’s work as part of a team. How does it feel?”

“It feels like something I ought to have done a long time ago, Papa.”

Lord Templeton looked him up and down. “And you are looking well! All this fresh air– and daylight– is agreeing with you.”

’Tis true about the daylight– it does make one feel more alive. Why, in my former Bath life there were sometimes days when I scarcely caught an hour or two of natural light by rising so late.

“Come back to the house with me, my boy. We should talk.”

Edmund and Lord Templeton walked to the main parlor where a footman served them with a glass of Madeira.

“I have seen your plans for the new workers’ cottages,” Lord Templeton said.

“I know they would be costly,” Edmund said, “but when I think of the conditions that people have been living in, it does not seem right– not when we have so much.”

“I heartily agree with you. And ’tis exactly for this sort of reason that I want you to work closely with me, for a younger pair of eyes and a more modern approach is what the estate needs and deserves.”

“I would be honored to work with you, Papa. I admire you greatly. And I apologize for not fulfilling my duty before.”

“Ah, Edmund, you are turning into a young man of whom I can be rightly proud.”

The two men drank in silence for a few minutes. They had not been in the habit of talking in this manner before, and to Edmund, and perchance to Lord Templeton too, the situation was feeling a little odd.

“But what is the news from Bath?” Edmund said. “How is everyone? I hear Nelson has not been at all well.”

“Nelson is much recovered, I am glad to say. ’Twas touch and go for a while, and there was one night in particular when the pug ran such a high fever that George was afeared he could do nothing for him. But he pulled through. ”

“And Mrs. Pembroke?” Edmund said. “I believe she is to leave the Crescent? Or has she already left?”

“She has plans to leave; however, Lady Barrington is not at all pleased and every day finds a fresh excuse to detain her, usually to do with Nelson’s health.”

Marianne is still in Bath! Oh, how I long to see her to put things right. And to tell her how much I ardently love and adore her and wish her to become my wife.

“Edmund,” Lord Templeton said, “we must arrange your return to Bath. I think you have done enough here for now and should come back with me tomorrow morning.”

“You want me to return? But what about my duties at Templeton Park?”

“Of course I want you to return! As for your duties, there are many business documents at home I would like to mull over with you, and we can search for an architect in the city to build these workers’ cottages of yours. We will be a team. What say you?”

“I accept! Joyfully!”

I have found my purpose at last– and now I am ready to follow my heart.

“Excellent news!” Lord Templeton said. “And there is another reason you must return to Bath forthwith. The Prince Regent himself is to attend a ball in the Upper Rooms soon, and your mama is most keen that all the family should be there.”

“How marvelous! ’Twill be wonderful to see everyone gathered together again. But Papa, would you grant me a small favor?”

“Name it, dear boy.”

“Would it be possible to visit Clifton on our way back to Bath? I have a call I wish to pay– and a question I must ask Mr. Oakley.”

Lord Templeton raised an enquiring eyebrow– and then a broad beam of approval spread across his face.

*

Marianne

That evening, Marianne was trying to reason with Lady Barrington.

“Aunt! There is nothing wrong with Nelson; he has almost fully recovered. I must be allowed to prepare for my return to Clifton, and thence to the Lake District. I cannot let Charlotte down, nor the family I am to work for. I have given my word!”

But Lady Barrington continued to refuse to countenance the suggestion that she would be able to manage Nelson in his convalescence without Marianne to aid her.

“And ’tis not only Nelson who needs your help,” Lady Barrington said, “for there is my knee to consider.”

“Your knee?”

“Yes. It has been troubling me much of late.”

Marianne regarded Lady Barrington most severely. “I saw you chasing after Nelson on the lawn this morning– your knee was not troubling you then.”

“The stiffness comes on very suddenly– and have I mentioned the excruciating pain?” Lady Barrington screwed her eyes up. “Ouch! Like that! As if from nowhere.”

From nowhere, indeed.

The next morning, Marianne and Lady Barrington were at breakfast in the parlor when Jane appeared.

“Excuse me, Lady Barrington; Madame Dubonnet is at the door.”

“Pray show her in,” Lady Barrington said. “Ah! Madame Dubonnet. Thank you for visiting.”

This is an early call. I wonder what she wants? And why is her servant carrying an enormous box?

“I have here your ball gown, Mrs. Pembroke. I hope you will be pleased with it.”

“My ball gown?” Marianne said. “Aunt! I do not understand. I was not expecting any further generous gifts.”

“As soon as I heard the Prince Regent would be attending a ball in Bath, I took the liberty of asking Madame Dubonnet to make you another frock.”

“’Tis cut from the emerald silk you so admired in my shop on your first visit,” Madame Dubonnet said.

“Yes, and will match your eyes perfectly,” Lady Barrington said.

“Perhaps I might see the gown on you?” Madame Dubonnet said. “There could be last-minute alterations needed.”

“Of course,” Lady Barrington said. “We will go up to Marianne’s chamber for the fitting.”

Soon Marianne had been helped into the dress and was standing in front of her mirror with Lady Barrington, Madame Dubonnet, and Jane around her. She moved gently from side to side, feeling the material of the bell-like skirt swish against her legs, while the beads and spangles on the hemline glinted softly.

Marianne imagined herself at the ball. But with whom would she dance? Edmund was far away at Templeton Park. Perchance Captain Wyndham would take pity on her, although now he was engaged, he should perhaps save all his dances for his intended.

“Well, what do you think of the fit?” Lady Barrington said to Madame Dubonnet.

“Very good,” she said, “although I believe Mrs. Pembroke has lost a little weight since I first measured her in January. I always allow for some adjustment in the bodice, so if I could just tighten this here– ah! That is better.”

Madame Dubonnet stood back to admire her handiwork, and then a roguish smile came to her face. “Sometimes I find my ladies lose weight when they are pining for a certain someone.”

Lady Barrington raised her eyebrows and smiled– while Marianne struggled not to show her annoyance at Madame Dubonnet’s over-personal remark .

’Tis not surprising my form has changed, for my appetite has deserted me of late and I have spent many nights tossing and turning, wondering what is to become of me.

Marianne stood up straight and regarded herself again in the mirror.

But all is well now. ’Tis merely last-minute nerves. I am to have a new life in the Lakes; all is settled, and I shall enjoy it. I am determined to.

“But what is this?” Madame Dubonnet said, looking around the room. “I see you are in the midst of packing.”

“Yes,” Marianne said. “I have accepted a position as governess with a family.”

Madame Dubonnet’s hand flew to her mouth a second too late to stifle her exclamation of horror. Then she recovered her powers of speech. “But Mrs. Pembroke! You will have no need to do this if you wear this beautiful dress at the ball, for every young man will be pursuing you. Why, the Prince Regent himself...”

Madame Dubonnet stopped dead, perhaps realizing that ’twas not quite appropriate to talk of the Prince Regent in so familiar a manner, nor to speculate as to what he might or might not do if he saw a beautiful woman at a ball.

“Marianne will shine like a diamond,” Lady Barrington said. “And for that reason, I know she will manage to delay her journey for a few more days– for ’twould be criminal to miss the ball of the season. Especially after Madame Dubonnet has gone to all this trouble with the emerald silk.”

Marianne bit her lip. Her wishes had been overruled yet again by the whims and caprices of others. She had been thwarted in her desire to control her own destiny; she had been defeated.

Yet should she not surrender gracefully? For all things considered, would it hurt that much to delay her journey by mere days? Hopefully her new employers would be understanding. And the dress was certainly very beautiful– and she did so love dancing.

Marianne nodded .

“That is settled, then,” Lady Barrington said. “And pray show us what else is in your box, Madame Dubonnet, for I believe I ordered matching gloves and dancing shoes.”

“Oh yes, and something for the hair,” Madame Dubonnet said. “Mrs. Pembroke’s curls are her crowning glory. See here; I have had a seamstress stitch this stunning green silk band, fully embellished with a floral design to match the decorations on the dress. And I have taken the liberty of adding a few extra spangles and some feathers.”

“The embellishments are simply stunning,” Lady Barrington said. “Marianne, you will shine brightly like a tropical bird, as I predicted.”

Marianne examined the delicate creation. “Thank you– ’tis enchanting.”

I dread to think how many hours the poor seamstresses must have had to spend on this– let alone the whole outfit. Ah! How fortunate I am.

“And now I must leave you,” Madame Dubonnet said.

“I expect there are many others in Bath who are desirous of your services,” Marianne said.

“Yes, indeed. I have had orders from ladies all over the city, but I promise you one thing– not one of them will outshine you.”

I cannot believe that is true– this must be the sort of flattery Madame Dubonnet is wont to dish out. But I do adore the outfit and look forward to wearing it.

“Jane,” Lady Barrington said, “could you help Mrs. Pembroke out of her dress while I go downstairs with Madame Dubonnet? Thank you, my dear. And dress warmly, Marianne, for we shall be on our way soon.”

“On our way?”

“Yes, to Molland’s. I thought we would go there for coffee this morning. Did I not mention this before?”

“No, Aunt; you did not.”

Madame Dubonnet and Lady Barrington swept away, and Marianne surveyed the room in dismay.

I had anticipated a morning at home to continue my packing .

’Twas proving very difficult for Marianne to decide what to take with her for her new life. She had no wish to offend Lady Barrington by leaving some of her new garments, but her trunk had limited space– nor would she have much need for fashion or flamboyance in the future.

Oh! I should have asked Madame Dubonnet to make me a sober and plain outfit, befitting the station of a governess– although I still have all my old mourning clothes I can use up. I wonder where they are?

“Jane,” Marianne said, “have you seen the gowns I had when I first arrived in Bath? My black, gray, and lavender frocks? I wondered if you had taken them to launder and press, for I have not seen them for a while.”

“Oh, no, madam,” Jane said. “All those gowns have gone.”

“Gone? What do you mean?”

“Not long ago, when you were out one day, Lady Barrington asked me to help her go through your wardrobe. We removed all the drab colors, boxed them up, and they have been given to the poor.”

Without asking me?

“I did notice some reorganization of my wardrobe but thought ’twas part of a general tidy up. I had no idea my possessions had been disposed of.”

I have been so distracted with myriad new outfits that I quite forgot about my mourning clothes.

“I am so sorry, Mrs. Pembroke. I did not realize this was done without your permission. Lady Barrington said you were quite happy for her to cull your garments– or did she perchance say you would be quite happy for her to do so? I cannot remember.”

Marianne sighed. “No matter. I will have to manage the best I can. ’Tis not your fault, Jane.”

Very soon Marianne was racing down Milsom Street with Lady Barrington and Nelson.

“We need to get to Molland’s quickly,” Lady Barrington puffed, “before they run out of my beloved marchpane cakes. ”

“Is your knee not troubling you now?” Marianne asked innocently.

“Oh, no. As I explained before, it comes and goes. I shall probably suffer for this haste later in the day, though.”

Thankfully, there were still plenty of marchpane cakes left for Lady Barrington, and she was thrilled when she managed to secure her favorite table in the bay window upstairs.

“I always like to sit here,” Lady Barrington confided. “It has by far the best view of the street. And we are lucky– we have the room to ourselves, so Nelson is free to scamper about while we chat.”

Marianne peered down onto the street while the maid came to take their order. There were throngs of people shopping today, a positive riot of color– and so many adorable hats, many with the most delightful decorations.

I am going to miss the hustle and bustle of a city, for the family I am to work for lives in quite an isolated house.

Charlotte had done as Marianne asked and found her a family in need of a governess, but she had not been as enthusiastic about the whole business as Marianne would have liked. In her letter, she had written,

The family I have found will, I know, be kind to you, and their children are very dear– yet I still believe that being a governess is not your ultimate destiny. ’Tis not too late to change your mind, dearest Marianne.

“Ah!” Lady Barrington applied her quizzing glass to her eye as she peered out of the window. “Here is someone we know. Captain Wyndham! And the young lady must be his intended. I will go down and ask them to join us at our table.”

Before Marianne could stop her aunt and suggest that perhaps Captain Wyndham and his intended might have other plans, Lady Barrington had run into the street and accosted them.

“Come here, Nelson,” Marianne said. “You stay with me. Oh, ’tis wonderful to see you fully restored to health. I could not have born it if you had not survived.”

Marianne buried her face in Nelson’s neck to hide her emotions. Why was she so close to tears these days? And, sometimes, to anger?

As if I do not know! Oh, Edmund, how I long for you to return and take me in your arms. I wish I had never spoken to you unkindly– and I do not want you to change your character in any way, for I love you as you are.

But most of all, I wish you wanted to marry me. For I would accept you in a trice.

“What a shame,” Lady Barrington said as she returned. “Captain Wyndham and his intended are on their way to the Pump Room to meet with friends. But he was able to tell me some interesting news. I will ask for more refreshments and then tell you what I have discovered.”

Soon, more coffee and marchpane cake were brought to the table, and Lady Barrington fed Nelson sugary tidbits while she enlightened Marianne.

“I have it on good authority that many more officers from Captain Wyndham’s regiment will soon be arriving in Bath; ’tis the excitement of the Prince Regent’s visit that is acting as a draw. Anyhow, this means there will be positively hordes of eligible young men at the ball. Oh, my dear Marianne, I do hope I am not speaking out of turn, but would it not be marvelous if one of them could sweep you off your feet? And I do not mean simply for a dance.”

Aunt never stops with her scheming! If she thinks that I will have my head turned by an army officer at a ball, then she misjudges me. I am not that shallow.

Yet, was that not what happened once? For I met dear Richard at a ball. Oh, how muddled I feel! I do believe I have a megrim brewing.

“Do not look so disapproving, my dear,” Lady Barrington said, reaching out to smooth the lines between Marianne’s brows. She was always concerned to see a frown, and oft warned it could mar a beautiful face if worn frequently. “’Twill be fun for you to meet some more eligible young men; you could do with fresh blood to peruse.”

“But Aunt! That is not what I desire.”

“Well, what is? I know you say you want to become a governess, but I have never believed that for a moment. I think you are trying to punish yourself.”

“Punish myself?”

“Yes! You are punishing yourself for surviving when your husband– and the babe– did not. You might have cast off your widow’s weeds, yet you are still mourning.”

This is not fair! My aunt is completely impossible. And that reminds me.

“Who gave you the right to dispose of my old clothes? They will be useful to me as a governess.”

“You mean when you bury yourself in the middle of nowhere, and turn your back on fun and society? Do you seriously want to wear those dreadfully dull colors again– the ones you wore when first you arrived? The ones that did you no favors.”

Marianne sprang to her feet. “I will not stay to listen to this!”

“I know you think I am being cruel, my dear, but I have your best interests at heart. Why, I have even been pretending that Nelson was not fully recovered and that my knee was playing up again to get you to stay but a few more days so that you could attend the ball.”

“Where, no doubt, you want me to flaunt myself in front of these officers to encourage them to ask me to dance. Well, I am not going to! There is only one person I wish to marry, er, I mean to dance with.”

Lady Barrington smiled. “Admit it! You love Edmund and have loved him for a long time.”

Marianne felt as if she were simultaneously diving into a burning volcano and chiseling her way out of an icy glacier. Her resolve to keep her romantic sufferings to herself was finally broken, and she gave a great cry of anguish, then sat down and whispered, “Yes, I love him; I have always loved him,” before dissolving into a torrent of tears .

Lady Barrington rushed to cradle her niece, holding her tightly and patting her rhythmically on her back. “There, there, my dear, sweet child. I am sorry to have resorted to goading you in the way I did– but someone had to break through the carapace you had constructed around your feelings. I know how much you love Edmund– and I know you have loved him since the day you met. Even when you thought you were pretending to love him so that you would not be pushed to look elsewhere for a husband, even then I knew he had already captured your heart. Your aunt is not such a daft old fool as you think. Now, dry your eyes.”

“But what shall I do?” Marianne sobbed. “For he is far away, and I told him I hated him. And when Edmund wrote to me, he said nothing of what I had hoped to hear. Besides, he is banished to Templeton Park, who knows for how long? Perhaps forever?”

“I have it on very good authority,” Lady Barrington said, “that Lord and Lady Templeton sent him away not only as a punishment for his unfortunate high spirits in provoking a duel, but also because they wanted him to come to his senses concerning you, my dear. You are not the only person who has been denying their feelings and playacting, believe me! Both myself and Lady Templeton are fully convinced Edmund loves you just as much as you love him. Now, dry your eyes. Lord Templeton made a visit to Templeton Park yesterday, intending to collect his son and return today. What have you got to say about that?”

Marianne was entirely struck dumb.

A gigantic weight has been lifted from my mind– and I can hear a choir of angels singing the Hallelujah Chorus high in the sky above Molland’s. Oh, dare I hope there is a happy ending waiting for me after all?

*

Edmund

The sun was shining when Edmund and his father reached Clifton. As they drove through the streets on their way to Sion Hill, Edmund felt happier than he had done for a long time– and yet more apprehensive too.

Asking Mr. Oakley’s permission to address Marianne is a terrifying prospect. I do not know what she might have told her parents about me; would she, for instance, have mentioned my irresponsibility? My lack of purpose and my poor judgement? I tremble to think in what light they regard me. And yet Mr. Oakley was extremely friendly when I met him before– he even said I could be relied upon, did he not?

“Do not look so worried, Edmund,” Lord Templeton said. “Mr. Oakley will give you his blessing– of that I am sure.”

“’Tis by no means certain, Papa,” Edmund said. “I fear I have lived a very superficial life until now, and Mr. Oakley might be rightly cautious.”

“We will see. I say, the views of the Gorge are quite splendid, are they not?”

“They are extraordinary! Might we stop for a minute here, Papa? I would like time to collect my thoughts.”

“Of course, dear boy. I will stay in the carriage. Take all the time you need.”

Edmund looked over the plunging ravine, the turbulent water down below glimmering in the sunshine. He had previously wondered whether he should try to secure Marianne’s affections before talking to her father, but in view of her great losses in the past, he thought the traditional way would be more respectful and proper.

And this is just the beginning of my quest, for I fully realize that even if Mr. Oakley gives his blessing, I still have to win Marianne’s heart. We have much to resolve.

The carriage made the very short journey from the Gorge to the Oakleys’ house, and while Lord Templeton knocked at the door, Edmund looked up at the ironwork balcony on the first floor. He had not taken much notice of this on his previous visit, but now he could see how closely it resembled the balcony Romeo had stood under when he had declared his love for Juliet.

Contemplating Romeo’s fate is making me a trifle uneasy; I must concentrate on the romance of Shakespeare’s great play, not the tragedy.

Betsy showed Edmund and his father into the parlor where the Oakleys were sitting.

“Mr. Templeton! What a pleasant surprise,” Mr. Oakley said.

Once introductions had been made, Edmund expressed how pleased he was to see Mrs. Oakley restored to health.

“Why, thank you. I am fully recovered now and can undertake all my usual activities. This morning I have spent time in my herb garden, which I always enjoy.”

A silence descended upon the room.

This is awkward! The Oakleys must be wondering why on earth we are here. How should we proceed?

Lord Templeton cleared his throat. “Mrs. Oakley, I wonder if you would do me the great honor of showing me your herb garden? I am particularly interested in horticulture– especially herbs– and I believe that Edmund has something he wishes to say privately to Mr. Oakley.”

Mrs. Oakley beamed– and she and Lord Templeton left the room.

Edmund need not have worried, for once he was alone with the man he hoped to call his father-in-law, Mr. Oakley made everything easy. ’Twas almost as if he had longed for this moment. And after a decent interval, Lord Templeton and Mrs. Oakley returned to find Mr. Oakley’s face suffused with joy, and Edmund’s with relief.

“But remember, Mr. Templeton,” Mr. Oakley said, “though I have given my blessing, ’tis absolutely Marianne’s choice whether she accepts you or not.”

“I take nothing for granted,” Edmund said, “and know full well I am not worthy to be accepted by your daughter– for she is perfection. ”

“She is our dear Marianne and the best daughter anyone could ever wish for,” Mrs. Oakley said. “And we are so proud to know you intend to ask her to become your wife.”

“Well,” Lord Templeton said, “once we have the good news we joyfully anticipate, I do hope you will both do us the honor of staying with us in Bath.”

“As it happens, we are going to Bath in a couple of days,” Mr. Oakley said. “Our good friends the Radcliffes are there for the season and have asked us to join them in their lodgings in Norfolk Crescent for a while. We are thrilled, because they have managed to obtain tickets for the ball everyone is talking about.”

“Ah! The one the Prince Regent is to attend,” Lord Templeton said. “We look forward to seeing you there; all our family will be in attendance.”

Well, perhaps not all our family, for if Marianne turns me down, I will not be at the ball. I will instead return to Clifton and, in a fit of melancholy, throw myself into the Gorge– or at least retire to Templeton Park for the rest of my life to nurse my broken heart.

As the Templeton carriage traveled through Bristol on its way to Bath, Edmund spied a particular lady in the street; this caused him to rap on the roof of the carriage with his cane.

“Stop, driver, if you please.”

“What is it?” Lord Templeton asked.

“I have seen Miss Steele,” Edmund said, “and I am keen to have a word with her.”

“Very well,” Lord Templeton said.

“Miss Steele! ’Tis I– Edmund Templeton.”

“I know who you are, sir,” Miss Steele said. “What a surprise to see you here.”

“’Tis a happy coincidence,” Edmund said. “My father and I are travelling back to Bath, and I happened to see you from the carriage. Miss Steele, I simply wish to thank you for traveling to Bath recently to warn Mrs. Pembroke of possible danger. ”

“I felt compelled to do so, sir,” Miss Steele said, “for I did not like to think of a lady in peril. But I know now I was mistaken, for Mr. Teysen did not, after all, wish her harm.”

“Nevertheless, you wanted to help Mrs. Pembroke, and for that I am grateful. I expect you also know that Mr. Teysen intends to live a better life than he lived as Lord Steyne?”

“I do, sir, for the full story, including the tale of your bravery in chasing him across the roof of the Royal Crescent, is well known all over this city.”

“Well, I do not think he will be long in gaol,” Edmund said. “I wonder where he will go next?”

“He is out already, sir. He is here, in Bristol.” Miss Steele blushed deeply, and the rather hideous brooch she was wearing sparkled in the morning light.

Could it be that Miss Steele still has feelings for the old rogue? I see she is wearing the jewelry he gave her and did not sell it after all.

“I wish you well, Miss Steele.” Edmund doffed his hat and returned to the carriage.

She will need all the luck in the world!

Once Edmund arrived home, he wasted no time before going round to Number 4.

“I am afraid Marianne is not at home at the moment,” Lady Barrington said.

“Will she be long?”

I cannot wait to see her and learn my fate.

“She is out on the Crescent Fields with Jane and Nelson. Would you care to join them?”

“I would! Thank you, Lady B.”

Edmund ran to the fields. How glorious the world looked today! The crocuses were all open, and the trees displayed buds with their promise of summer around the corner; verily, the golden late afternoon light was magical in its intensity .

Marianne stood in the very center of the fields by an oak tree, throwing a stick for Nelson. How beauteous she was in her scarlet cloak, with cheeks aglow, sparkling eyes, and radiant visage.

I pray God she will accept me, for I think I will die if I have to live without her.

“I will go back to the house now, if you will excuse me, Mr. Templeton,” Jane said. “Lady Barrington told me earlier that when you arrived, I was to return immediately with Nelson, leaving you and Mrs. Pembroke to sort out the silly tangle. Oh, beg pardon, sir!”

Jane flushed scarlet and ran across the grass with Nelson yapping at her heels.

And so, we are alone at last.

“I must say what is in my heart,” Edmund said. “I cannot wait any longer.”

“But first I must speak,” Marianne said. “Oh, Edmund! I have not been fair towards you.”

“Me neither!”

After a rather topsy-turvy conversation about all the various ways the pair had misunderstood situations, said things they didn’t mean, assumed things that were not true, and made regrettable mistakes, they enfolded each other within an embrace so close ’twas as if they had become one person. Then Edmund declared his love, which was joyfully reciprocated.

And thus it was that in the middle of the Crescent Fields, in the very heart of Bath, Edmund and Marianne exchanged a heavenly series of kisses which felt radically different from all the ones before, for these kisses anticipated the joy they would have in their lives together and celebrated the lifelong commitment they had just made.

“Dash it all!” Edmund said, as they walked back to Number 4. “Can you see what I can?”

Marianne chuckled. “’Tis Lady B with her telescope. We should have expected it. ”

The day of the ball dawned, and the whole of Bath was in a frenzy of excitement to think that the Prince Regent would soon be amongst them in the Upper Rooms. Not for a long time had the ton turned out in such numbers, resplendent in their finery and eager to enjoy the music, dancing, refreshments– and the presence of royalty.

As Edmund enjoyed the first dance with his intended, his heart swelled with pride and love.

“You look more beautiful than any lady here,” he whispered in Marianne’s ear.

“And you look divinely handsome,” she answered. “Even more so than usual. Perchance ’tis a result of all that fence building and ditch digging.”

“I fully intend to carry on with physical work from time to time,” Edmund replied, “for to manage an estate properly, one should not be afraid to get one’s hands dirty. I am changing, dear Marianne.”

“But Edmund, I love you just as you are– and always will.”

“Well, perhaps I have not altered that much,” Edmund said, “for I would still like to swim in the river from time to time at midnight. Will that be acceptable?”

“Yes, as long as you take me with you. I have always wondered what it would be like to bathe by moonlight. But only if ’tis a boiling hot summer night.”

“We have not had a boiling hot summer for quite a few years– but perchance 1817 will surprise us.”

Edmund imagined frolicking with Marianne in the river, holding her gently to protect her from any fierce currents, and smoothing droplets from her divine countenance– until the rules of the dance caused her to link arms with another man and be whisked away.

Ah! Tis Captain Wyndham. ’Tis lucky I no longer feel jealous of this gentleman. He is a decent sort, and I wish him well. And now he is back dancing with his intended, and Marianne is opposite me again in the set.

“I have not told you Charlotte’s good news yet,” Marianne said to Edmund. “I heard this morning she has been brought to bed of a healthy son. All is well– and I am a godmother.”

“How pleased I am! I look forward to visiting the Lake District and admiring your godson in the years to come.”

And one day, God willing, Marianne will hold her own babe in her arms. What a fine life we will have together.

Soon it was time for refreshments, and all went to the tea room, with the Prince Regent leading the way.

“I see Carter on the other side of the room, with Henry and Kitty,” Edmund said to Marianne. “I have an important question for him.”

“Do not be long!” Marianne said. “I will join my parents and the Radcliffes. Ah! There is Selina too, and George. I am so pleased I will soon be able to call Selina my sister.”

Edmund strode over to Carter, who was looking a little ill at ease wearing an exceedingly smart evening suit which Lady Templeton had insisted on having made for him especially for the occasion.

“I am not sure why I am here,” Carter said. “I feel like a tailor’s dummy.”

“You look very elegant,” Kitty said.

“Yes, and you are here because you are part of our family,” Henry said.

“Exactly!” Edmund said. “And now I have something most particular to ask. Will you be best man at my wedding?”

“Why, I thank you,” Carter said, “but I must decline, for what would people say?”

“I care not for tittle-tattle and gossip– you know that,” Edmund replied. “’Tis time you took your rightful place in the family as Mama’s brother in the full gaze of the world, not merely behind closed doors. My wedding will be a good time to make this clear to the ton . And Mama and Papa are in total agreement.”

“As are we,” Henry and Kitty chorused.

“In that case, I would be honored.” Carter raised his glass of Negus. “Edmund– your very good health. I know you and Mrs. Pembroke will be exceedingly happy. ”

When Edmund returned to Marianne’s side, she was chatting to Lady Barrington.

“I will be moving out of Number 4 soon,” Lady Barrington said.

“Moving out? Why?” Edmund said.

“Oh, did you not know?” Lady Barrington said. “Have I spoilt the surprise?”

“Possibly,” Edmund said, “but as I do not know the nature of the surprise, I cannot say for definite. Pray, reveal all.”

“Well, everyone knows that I will relocate to the north this summer. With Augusta and Amabella both expecting blessed events, it makes sense. And ’twill not be long before Aurelia and Alicia follow suit, I am sure. Anyhow, I am selling Number 4 to your dear papa.”

Ah, I think I begin to realize where this is going.

“The seed of this idea was planted a long time ago,” Lady Barrington said, “when we were in the Pump Room, back in January. I told your parents then that I would be spending most of my time in the north once my grandchildren arrived, and your papa was most interested in what I might want to do with Number 4. He thought it might be the ideal home for you and Marianne.”

What! But I had only known Marianne a few days. Papa certainly wasted no time in planning for our union.

“I have found a suitable new home near all four of my daughters– for they live so close to each other ’tis but a five-minute carriage ride between their dwellings. I will be able to offer help and advice, but return to my own house at the end of each day– this will suit us all splendidly. Oh, look! Here is your papa approaching now, Edmund.”

“What a splendid evening, is it not?” Lord Templeton said. “What have you been discussing? Everyone has gone very quiet.”

“I have to apologize,” Lady Barrington said, “for the mention of my imminent move has inadvertently let the cat out of the bag, thus spoiling the wondrous surprise of your wedding gift to the young pair here.”

“’Tis time they knew, so I thank you,” Lord Templeton said. “And Edmund and Marianne, to make it crystal clear, I am presenting you with Number 4 to celebrate your forthcoming nuptials. Will that be acceptable?”

Marianne’s eyes grew large and moist, and Edmund thanked his father profusely.

“Of course, you will both spend time at Templeton Park too,” Lord Templeton said, “but Number 4 will be your home in Bath.”

“And I will continue to live there with Marianne till the very day of your wedding in June, for she must be chaperoned,” Lady Barrington said, “then I will stay for a short time with Lord and Lady Templeton before finally moving to the north to be with my dear daughters.”

“We will miss you, Aunt,” Marianne said, “and Nelson, too.”

“You will not,” Lady Barrington said, “for you will be far too busy filling the house with children for that.”

Marianne blushed as scarlet as a military uniform.

“I insist you stay with us whenever you visit Bath, Lady B,” Edmund said. “You will always be welcome.”

“I thank you– and will take you up on your kind offer.”

Lord Templeton gazed across the room. “There is a crush at the door, and I see the Prince Regent is on the move. Let us return to the ballroom, for the music must be about to begin. Now, where is Lady Templeton? For she has promised me the next dance. Ah! There you are, my dear. Please, take my arm.”

The Prince Regent seemed in good spirits after the refreshment break and spent some time watching the revelry, tapping his foot to the rhythm of the country dances. As Edmund and Marianne twirled past, they were close enough to hear His Highness’s comment to his companion.

“I say– who is that handsome couple? They look very much in love.”