Part 2 (1/2)

She did as she was told, her eyes flying wide at the strength of the cordial; hiccupped; coughed; coughed; and then stared at me in outrage. ”That was nothing less than liquid fire!” and then stared at me in outrage. ”That was nothing less than liquid fire!”

”Very true,” I said with amus.e.m.e.nt. ”You are beginning to be restored to yourself. Now tell me, if you will, how you came to be in Lord Byron's charge.”

The girl flushed to the roots of her hair, and set aside her brandy gla.s.s. She could not meet my gaze, I found, as though I were a governess intent upon scolding her.

”I am only a little acquainted with his lords.h.i.+p,” she said, ”and must confess that I have never felt any particular partiality for him. But it is-was-otherwise with him; he appears to have formed an attachment, and has pressed his suit most ardently in recent weeks, whenever he is in Brighton-for Brighton is my home, Miss Austen.”

”And being unable to return his lords.h.i.+p's affection, you have repulsed his advances?”

She lifted her eyes to mine. ”At every turn! We have only met some once or twice, at the a.s.semblies-he is but rarely in Brighton, being much taken up with Lady Oxford and her set, who remain fixed in London.”

Lady Oxford-the Countess of Oxford-was rumoured to be Byron's latest paramour. A very great lady of some forty years of age, and the mother of five hopeful children-possibly by as many fathers-she had taken up the young poet as her latest lover, and kept him the whole of the winter at Eywood, the Earl of Oxford's estate in Herefords.h.i.+re. Or so I had gleaned, from the veiled hints of the Morning Gazette's Morning Gazette's Society pages. Now it seemed Lady Oxford's protege was determined to play her false-with a girl young enough to be her daughter. Society pages. Now it seemed Lady Oxford's protege was determined to play her false-with a girl young enough to be her daughter.

”His lords.h.i.+p will will descend upon Brighton without warning,” Miss Twining persisted, ”to indulge his pa.s.sion for sailing; and on such occasions condescends to enter the Rooms at the Castle of a Monday evening, or even the Old s.h.i.+p-which a.s.sembly you will know is held on Thursdays-from time to time.” descend upon Brighton without warning,” Miss Twining persisted, ”to indulge his pa.s.sion for sailing; and on such occasions condescends to enter the Rooms at the Castle of a Monday evening, or even the Old s.h.i.+p-which a.s.sembly you will know is held on Thursdays-from time to time.”

This flood of information conveying very little to me, being a stranger to the town and its delights, I contented myself with a mere, ”I see.”

”His lords.h.i.+p never dances, however,” the girl hurried on, ”being ashamed, so they say, of his lame foot. But he often skirts the edge of the a.s.sembly with one of his intimates-Mr. Scrope Davies, or Mr. Rogers-to whom he alone will speak; and being forced to sit out several dances myself, I have had some once or twice the privilege of conversing with him. I never sought his attentions, I a.s.sure you-tho' all the town is wild wild about Lord Byron, and celebrates his verses, and swoons at his every entrance-I cannot about Lord Byron, and celebrates his verses, and swoons at his every entrance-I cannot like like him, Miss Austen. Indeed, he frightens me.” him, Miss Austen. Indeed, he frightens me.”

This last was uttered in a whisper; I saw the threat of renewed tears, and said hurriedly, ”But this morning there was a change?”

She swallowed convulsively. ”I am afraid I have been very very foolish.” foolish.”

I glanced at Henry.

”I was strolling with my maid along the Steyne, intending to exchange a book at Donaldson's, when Lord Byron's chaise came up alongside. Or rather-I should properly say Lady Oxford's Lady Oxford's chaise, for it bears her ladys.h.i.+p's crest, and is excessively well-sprung-the squabs are straw-coloured satin.” chaise, for it bears her ladys.h.i.+p's crest, and is excessively well-sprung-the squabs are straw-coloured satin.”

”Indeed-it was an admirable equipage,” I stammered. Lord Byron had used Lady Oxford's chaise Lady Oxford's chaise to abduct another woman? ”And his lords.h.i.+p invited you to take a drive?” to abduct another woman? ”And his lords.h.i.+p invited you to take a drive?”

”He was all politeness. He told me he was bound for London, and should be deprived of my society for at least the next fortnight; he added that my cruelty should be beyond everything, did I not consent to spare him a few moments. He pined already for my society, he said; could I not bear him company so far as Donaldson's, so that he might cherish my image the length of his journey to London?”

The gentleman was, after all, a poet, and the most celebrated Romantic of our age; what girl of fifteen should be proof against such ardent address? Miss Twining had dismissed her maid, and ascended into the carriage.

”But he did not stop at Donaldson's,” she said wonderingly, ”and indeed, he urged the coachman to all possible speed, so that we bowled out of town along the New Road at such a pace, I was forced to cling to the side-straps in sheer terror!”

She had attempted to flee the carriage when it slowed at Lewes; and it was then that Byron subdued her, his superior strength and the natural fear she bore him, combining to render her pa.s.sive when he produced his cravats. His lords.h.i.+p was so good, at that juncture, as to inform Miss Twining of her intended fate: he travelled not to London but to the Border-a journey of several days' duration-with a Gretna Green marriage in view.

Apprehending that after several days in the gentleman's sole company, her reputation should be utterly ruined, Miss Twining cried-she pled for his lords.h.i.+p's mercy-a.s.sured him that she could not love him; but her shrinking only inflamed Byron further. He was unaccustomed, it seemed, to rejection; the adulation of all the Polite World having convinced him that Miss Twining must be hoping for just such an avowal of ardent love.

”Marriage?” Henry repeated, all astonishment. ”I had not thought Lord Byron much taken with the married state-unless it be to persuade those ladies already shackled with it, to break their sacred vows! He did you a decided honour, Miss Twining, in thus singling you out; you should be the wonder of your acquaintance, did they know of it. To make a conquest of Lord Byron!”

”Do not be so tiresome, Henry,” I retorted crossly. ”You must know that she abhors the man!”

Outside Lewes, Byron overmastered her, and a.s.sured Miss Twining that she should not prove so missish missish within a very few hours-for her honour depended entirely upon marriage, as she should be brought to understand. She screamed for the coachman's aid, at which Byron laughed diabolically, and gagged her mouth. within a very few hours-for her honour depended entirely upon marriage, as she should be brought to understand. She screamed for the coachman's aid, at which Byron laughed diabolically, and gagged her mouth.

”And if you had not heard me moan, Miss Austen,” she concluded, ”I should be entirely ruined. How I am to face Papa, I know not! He is sure to blame me-to be most frightfully frightfully angry-for fast behaviour in a female is what he cannot condone, and try as I might, I cannot regard my behaviour today as anything other than angry-for fast behaviour in a female is what he cannot condone, and try as I might, I cannot regard my behaviour today as anything other than fast. fast.”

”We shall engage to put the matter before Papa in the proper light,” I told her. ”He should do better to set the whole of the blame at Lord Byron's door-and I shall urge him most forcefully to do so. His lords.h.i.+p must be called to account for his insult, or no young female in Brighton shall be safe! Your father's interview must be absolutely discreet, however-the preservation of your reputation demands it. Is it known where Lord Byron lodges, when he is in Brighton?”

”He keeps a suite of rooms at the King's Arms, against those occasions when the whim overtakes him to sail. He has been staying at the King's Arms a good deal, of late....Oh, pray that he never returns!” Miss Twining cried.

”Undoubtedly he shall not,” I agreed, ”-gentlemen being loath to admit their losses, you know; Lord Byron shall find other fish to fry in London.”

”The blackguard,” Henry commented coolly. ”And now, Jane, the team is put to-if we make haste, we might be in Brighton within the hour. Miss Twining, you will of course accompany us?”

LADY O OXFORD'S CHAISE, WITH ITS OUTRAGED OCCUPANT, was nowhere in sight when we ventured into the stable yard. But I could not help noting, as Henry's curricle bore us away, two lengths of soiled linen lying trampled in the mud.

CHAPTER FOUR

Pleasures of a Prince 7 MAY 1813, 1813, CONT CONT.

THE C CASTLE I INN, BRIGHTON.

I FIND PROXIMITY TO THE SEA A DELIGHT ABOVE ALL FIND PROXIMITY TO THE SEA A DELIGHT ABOVE ALL others-one that is especially dear, in being the more generally denied. Some two years' residence in Southampton, and the example of my Naval brother Frank, taught me a degree of comfort with quays and small boats, the bustle to be found on every sort of waterfront, and I sometimes yearn for the vigour of that life in my present, quieter abode at Chawton. The desire for fresh salt air and the constant tumult of the tides overwhelms me, some once or twice, of a hot Hamps.h.i.+re noon. My acquaintance with watering places, however, is not great-on two occasions I have been at Lyme, so sweet in its autumnal a.s.sociation with vanished romance, that I wish still for another glimpse of the Cobb and the bathing machines at Charmouth. others-one that is especially dear, in being the more generally denied. Some two years' residence in Southampton, and the example of my Naval brother Frank, taught me a degree of comfort with quays and small boats, the bustle to be found on every sort of waterfront, and I sometimes yearn for the vigour of that life in my present, quieter abode at Chawton. The desire for fresh salt air and the constant tumult of the tides overwhelms me, some once or twice, of a hot Hamps.h.i.+re noon. My acquaintance with watering places, however, is not great-on two occasions I have been at Lyme, so sweet in its autumnal a.s.sociation with vanished romance, that I wish still for another glimpse of the Cobb and the bathing machines at Charmouth.3 Of Teignmouth and Sidmouth I have seen a little, and Ramsgate in Kent, and Worthing but twelve miles west on this same Suss.e.x coast. Yet I have never braved the mettle of Brighton, at once the most breathtaking and outrageous resort of the present age. Of Teignmouth and Sidmouth I have seen a little, and Ramsgate in Kent, and Worthing but twelve miles west on this same Suss.e.x coast. Yet I have never braved the mettle of Brighton, at once the most breathtaking and outrageous resort of the present age.

Breathtaking, indeed, from the moment our curricle began its descent from the sweep of untenanted Downs, a rolling country of gra.s.sland that affords a magnificent view of the well-ordered town at its foot, and the sea beyond, dotted with s.h.i.+pping and pleasure-craft. The sun, just past its zenith, glinted on the stately white buildings as we approached; on a welter of Corinthian columns and Adam-esque facades, and the cla.s.sical purity of the Marine Pavilion, the Regent's residence.4 The New Road swung directly past its western lawns, so that a splendid view of the edifice-all but dwarfed by its ma.s.sive new stable block, constructed in the Indian stile-was obtained directly upon entering Brighton. The New Road swung directly past its western lawns, so that a splendid view of the edifice-all but dwarfed by its ma.s.sive new stable block, constructed in the Indian stile-was obtained directly upon entering Brighton.

We turned into Church Street, and the direction of Miss Twining's home.

She was deathly pale as the curricle pulled to a halt, and had to be lifted to the paving by my brother. We each supported her up the steps, and waited for some response to Miss Twining's pull of the bell. During the short interval from Cuckfield, she had informed me that Lord Byron took her up in his chaise at a few minutes past eleven o'clock; it was now nearly half-past four. Her poor Papa must be frantic with worry.

The heavy oak was pulled back; a bent form in livery stared impa.s.sively out at us. ”Miss Cathy,” it said. ”You have been wanted these two hours and more.”

”Oh, Suddley!” she cried, and stumbled across the threshold. ”Indeed I did not mean to run away!”

”Miss Twining has met with a sad accident,” I said as I followed my charge within doors, ”and requires rest and refreshment. She was so good as to permit us to escort her home. My name is Austen; if Miss Twining's father should care for an explanation, we should be happy to offer it.”

”That will do, Suddley,” said a voice from the far end of the hall.

He was a soldierly-looking man, endowed with Miss Twining's dark hair, but scowling in a manner a.s.sured to quell a more ardent spirit than his daughter's. ”Well, miss? And what have you to say for yourself? Gadding about in hoydenish pleasures-making a sport of my name throughout Brighton, I've no doubt, and not yet returned from school a month! I do not know what is to become of you-I declare that I do not! A disgrace to your name, and your sainted mother's memory-Good G.o.d, Catherine, have you no conduct? Have you no shame?”

”Sir-” Henry started forward, part anxiety and part indignation.

”Father, may I present Mr. Henry Austen, and his sister, Miss Austen, to your acquaintance? Mr. and Miss Austen, my father-General Twining.”

”And who are they they, pray?” this personage demanded, as tho' we were absent from the room entirely. ”It is unusual, is it not, to force one's notice upon young ladies entirely unknown to one? And in mourning too! I cannot think it becoming.”

”It was I I who forced acquaintance upon the Austens, Papa,” Miss Twining returned tremblingly. ”Indeed, they have been my salvation this day, and are deserving of considerable grat.i.tude-but I should prefer to tell you who forced acquaintance upon the Austens, Papa,” Miss Twining returned tremblingly. ”Indeed, they have been my salvation this day, and are deserving of considerable grat.i.tude-but I should prefer to tell you all all in greater privacy. May we not go into the drawing-room?” in greater privacy. May we not go into the drawing-room?”

”Very well,” he said grudgingly. ”But I shall offer no refreshment. It is not my policy to reward impudence. Encroaching manners! Town bronze!”

He eyed my brother dubiously as he swung past Henry towards the drawing-room; a tall, spare man of advancing years-perhaps in his middle fifties-but still powerfully built, with a breadth of shoulder and a strength of limb that suggested the seasoned campaigner. His forehead jutted over deeply-set eyes of an indeterminate brown; his thin lips appeared permanently compressed, and his chin protruded pugnaciously. A man of ill-managed temper, I concluded, and frequent periods of oppression; an uneasy man to endure. He was dressed in dusky black rather than regimentals, and swung an ebony walking cane.

”It is a pleasure, sir, to meet any member of Miss Twining's family,” I managed, hoping to spare our acquaintance further mortification; but her father was not inclined to tact.

”-Having a.s.sumed, no doubt, that such a forward young woman had no relations at all.” He eyed her with disfavour as he ushered us through the doorway. ”I understand you were taken up in Lord Byron's carriage, miss-oh, yes, you need not look so startled, the maidservant has been your Judas! Thought to elope with the Rage of the Ton, did you? And when did you discover your mistake? When the fellow achieved his object-then wanted no part of you?”