Lament for a lost lover

“Many times I have reasoned with him. I have told him that unpunctuality is bad manners just as much as slamming a door in someone’s face. The implication is that there is something more interesting to claim the attention and therefore everything else can wait. That is what my husband Lord Eversleigh impressed on me. As a soldier he is naturally the most punctual man alive. I had to mend my ways when I married him. Really one would not believe that Edwin ... Ah, here he is. Edwin, my dear boy, come and meet our guests.” her annoyance had faded at the sight of her son, and I could understand it. I thought Edwin Eversleigh was the most attractive bled b^ ever seen He was tall and very slim. He faintly resembled his sister Charlotte, but the likeness had the effect of making her look more insignificant than ever. His hair was the same colour as hers, but it was more abundant and had a faint kink in it which made it manageable. He wore it to his shoulders after the fashion which had prevailed at the time when King Charles had lost his head. His loose-fitting coat of brown velvet was braided and tagged about the waist. His sleeves were slashed to show a very white cambric shirt below. His breeches matched his coat in colour. It was not his clothes, though, which I noticed but the man himself. I imagined he was several years younger than Charlotte; that he was his mother’s darling was obvious. The way in which she said: “My son, Edwin,” was very revealing.

I find it difficult to describe Edwin as he was at that time because to give an account of the size of his nose and mouth and the colour of his hair and eyes conveys little. It was something within him-a vitality, a charm, a quality which was immediately obvious. When he came into a room something happened. The atmosphere changed. Attention was focussed on him. I knew what Harriet meant when she said that some people had this quality. She had it, of course. I saw that clearly now. Edwin was looking at me, bowing, smiling. I noticed the way he half closed his eyes when he smiled, how his mouth turned up at one corner more than the other. “Welcome, Mistress Tolworthy,” he said. “We are delighted that you should come.”

“And that she has brought her friend, Mistress Harriet Main,” added his mother.

He bowed. “I shall be eternally grateful that you allowed me to come,” said Harriet. “You are a little rash, I can see,” he said, and I noticed that one eyebrow lifted higher than the other just as his mouth did when he smiled. “If I were you I should reserve a little of that gratitude for a while. Wait until you get to know us.” Everyone laughed.

“Oh, Edwin,” said Lady Eversleigh, “what a tease you are! He always has been. He says the most outrageous things.”

“You should banish me from polite society, Mama,” said Edwin.

‘Oh my dear, how dull it would be if we did. Let us go into dinner and all get to know each other.”

The hall was rather like the one at Congreve. There was a dais A on this the table had been set because it was such a small Only we did not sit in the traditional way facing the main hall but round the table as would have been done in a small room.

Lady Eversleigh sat at one end of the table with Lucas on her right and Harriet on her left. Edwin was at the other end with me on his right and Charlotte on his left. Sir Charles Condey was between me and Harriet.

“It would be so much more convenient if we had a small dining room,” said Lady Eversleigh.

“But we have become accustomed to makeshift in the last years.”

“Never mind,” said Edwin, “we are soon going to be at home.”

“Do you really think so?” I asked.

He touched my hand which was lying on the table-only briefly but I felt a thrill of pleasure in the contact. “Certain of it,” he said smiling at me. “Why are you so certain?”

“The signs and portents. Cromwell has kept his iron grip on the nation because he is a man of iron. Richard, his son, fortunately for England, has none of his father’s qualities. He has inherited the Protectorate because he is his father’s son. Oliver took it with his own strength. There’s a world of difference.” I wonder what is happening at our home,” said Lady Eversleigh. “We had such good servants ... so loyal. They didn’t want these Puritan ideas. I wonder if they have been able to keep Place going.” She turned to Lucas. “Isn’t it wonderful to contemplate going home?” Lucas said that it was, but that he could remember nothing of is home, although he recalled a little of his grandparents’ place in Cornwall.

“We escaped there,” I added. “My mother made the long journey across the country with Lucas and me. Our home, Far Flamstead, not far from London, had been attacked by the enemy but not completely destroyed.”