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HOLCOMBE MANOR, KENT
July 6, 1813
Julia,
I shall come visit you in September if I can, and if not, as soon as I reach my majority.
Cynthia Pratt is an excellent example of all a young lady should be. Her conversation is all that is correct, her accomplishments are complete, and she is that perfect trinity of beauty, fortune and family. However, I find I would not trust her as far as I could throw her, and as she has a perfect figure, I imagine that wouldn’t be very far. I believe that Lord Harrington wanted very much to marry her, but the more he is acquainted with her person, the more he questions the relationship. Indeed, he seems to be more a polite acquaintance than a lover in his address.
Now, dear Julia, I must tell you a secret of mine. I have been riding with Lord Harrington, nearly every day for about a week. We have had private walks, and other opportunities to converse, and I find I am growing to care for him. I know very well the relationship can never be more than the friendship it is, so you need not scold me, but as I have taken such pains to hide how I am feeling, it gives me such relief to confide it to you. This is all in contrast to the attentions I have received from Mr. Lawrence, a guest who is a teacher of science and philosophy at Oxford. He is an excellent man, and already a good friend, and has requested the opportunity to court me. In fact, I believe he would propose marriage at the slightest encouragement. As you can imagine, I am at a loss, for I am now constantly finding my head at odds with my heart. Any advice you have for me would be very appreciated.
I was delighted to hear of how beautiful Greengate is, in particular the gardens, for I know how you enjoy your flowers. I am picturing you bossing around the gardeners for the sake of your peonies.
Love,
Jane
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HOLCOMBE MANOR, KENT
July 6, 1813
Aunt Jem,
I assure you I will give any proposal due consideration and inform you of my choice directly when I know it. Mr. Lawrence is a good man, and I do not doubt his sincerity or his worth, merely my own heart and its future direction. You need not scold me; I am aware I am being a ninny.
Love,
Jane
PS. I should like very much to hear your tales of Lady Harrington’s youth.
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AS JANE’S MORNING HAD been thoroughly productive (Lady Harrington would be proud), she walked with confidence toward breakfast, her letters in hand as Simmons fortuitously came in her direction.
“Simmons, would you be so good as to see these posted for me?”
“Of course, miss.” Simmons bowed and proceeded down the hallway as Jane continued toward the mouthwatering smell of sausage. She slowed as she passed Miss Pratt, who was watching her with an amused smile above her pointed chin.
“How often you seem to send letters, Miss Shaw.” Her look was knowing, but Jane kept silent. “Perhaps you should be careful who you confide in, for your correspondents may not be quite whom you think.” She pushed past her towards breakfast, leaving Jane confused by her insinuations.
Jane looked back to see Lord Harrington coming out of his study, mid-laugh with Lord Petersham. He smiled at her and Lord Petersham nudged him. She waited for them to catch up, but Lord Petersham merely gave her a nod with a significant look as he moved past.
“Miss Shaw, I was wondering if you would care for a rematch this afternoon.”
She looked up to find Lord Harrington’s smile aimed at her, his freckles pushed up under his lashes. She blushed, then looked down. “I assume you mean chess, my lord, and not another race where Mermaid humiliates Clover?”
“Indeed. I believe I will be free around two o’clock this afternoon. Would you say that is a good time?” His smile was now absent, his look earnest.
“I think that would be an excellent time.”
He smiled again, and together they entered the breakfast room to find George eating his breakfast with childish gusto while Miss Pratt gilded her toast with marmalade.
“My lord, how lovely to see you! Might I help you get a plate?” She had moved over to the sideboard where an array was set up. “Miss Shaw, you are looking well. Have you breakfasted yet?”
They answered simultaneously:
“Thank you, I see James has already filled one for me.”
“I have not, thank you.”
Lord Petersham between mouthfuls spoke up. “The buttered eggs are particularly excellent today.”
Lord Harrington grinned. “I should enjoy buttered eggs if you’ve happened to leave any for the rest of us?”
Lord Petersham grinned back, but didn’t bother to reply as he took another bite. Jane sat herself in an unobtrusive corner of the table. Lord Harrington glanced at her, then began doing justice to his breakfast as well.
“My lord, did you already have an opportunity to ride this morning?” Miss Pratt was all smiles; her toast untouched and soggy.
“I did.”
“I’m sorry to have missed it.”
As Lord Harrington’s mouth was full, he only nodded. Jane hid her own smile behind her cup.
“Come now, perhaps you can let me know when you’ll be riding tomorrow, for I have the greatest need for exercise and find Clover to be just the thing.” Miss Pratt’s eyes were wide, her excitement at a practiced level.
Lord Harrington swallowed. “I have given you leave to take her riding any time you wish, Miss Pratt.” He took a bite of toast, his glance brushing past Jane before looking back down.
Miss Pratt pressed her lips together as she considered her Jane, who was trying not to smile at her plate. “But Jane and I prefer your company when we ride, do we not?”
Jane looked at Cynthia, who very slightly raised her eyebrows. Carefully, she took a noncommittal bite of toast and looked innocently towards Lord Petersham, who had moved onto his sausages that were, “Most excellent.”
Lord Harrington grinned again at his brother, took a drink and sat back. “Miss Pratt, I apologize, but my rides tend to vary each day to please my schedule, and I cannot satisfy your requirement for my company.” Then as an afterthought, “Or Miss Shaw’s of course.” He nodded in her direction then started in on his own ‘most excellent’ sausages.
Very shortly they were joined by a crowd, and all conversation ceased to be of interest to most of the party and to the rest who were constrained by politeness, a great need to find themselves elsewhere meant that within a half hour, breakfast, and all talk of riding, was finished.