Lament for a lost lover

How excited Harriet was. I could see this was the sort of exploit which appealed to her. How right she had been when she had said she must adventure! We spent the rest of that day together, making plans. The two of us would leave as soon as the household had retired. We would ride through the night and by morning we should reach the inn where Edwin had stayed.

She knew which one it would be. She had heard him mention it, she said. L’Ananas in the village of Marlon.

“The sooner we join up with them the better. It is not exactly my fault for two women to be riding about the countryside together.” She had thought at first of dressing up as a man. That appealed the actress in her, but even she could not quite succeed in such role “As for you,” she said, “everything about you suggests you are of the feminine gender.”

I was in a fever of excitement. I wrote two notes, one to my mother-in-law and one to Lucas. I was sure, I said, that I should soon be back ... with Edwin. As for Lucas, he must return to Congreve-which he was going to do in any case-and look after the little ones.

“Oh, Harriet,” I cried as we rode along, “how glad I am that we did this! I wonder what Edwin will say?”

“He’ll laugh at you,” she answered. “He’ll say, ‘Could you not do without me for a few weeks?’” I laughed aloud with happiness. “Oh, Harriet, it is good of you to come with me.”

“Didn’t I tell you, you have only just begun to live.”

I felt it was true.

I was so happy as we rode through the night.

By great good luck we found the inn L’Ananas with the pineapple painted on its sign and there caught up with Edwin.

He, with his servant, was preparing to leave when we rode into the stables. I did not think he was altogether surprised, though he pretended to be, and I was exultant because I had come to him and grateful to Harriet. I myself should never have thought of undertaking such an adventure.

We dismounted and stood before him. He caught us both up in his arms and hugged us. “What ...?” he began. “Well ...” Then as Harriet had predicted he started to laugh.

“I had to come, Edwin,” I said. “I had to be with you.”

He nodded and looked from me to Harriet.

“It seemed the best thing to do,” she said.

He hesitated just for a second or so and then he said: “It calls for celebration. There’s nothing but mine host’s wine ordinary... and very ordinary, I warn you. Come let us go inside and we’ll drink to our reunion.”

He walked between us, an arm through each of ours.

“You must tell me all about it. What did my mother say?”

“She will know when she finds her note this morning,” I said. “Oh, notes, eh? Drama indeed! Bless you. I have never been more glad of anything in my life than the sight of you.”

“Oh, it’s all right, then, Edwin?” I cried. “You’re not angry? We haven’t been foolish?”

“Foolish, I dare say, but adorable.”

What an enchanting hour we spent in that inn. The wine was brought and we sat, Harriet and I, one on either side of Edwin.

“Do you know,” he said, “it’s a strange thing but I was hoping you would come. That’s why I hesitated about leaving here. I should have been on my way at dawn.”

“It was Harriet who thought of it.”

He put his hand over hers and held it for a moment. “Wonderful Harriet,” he said.

“I must admit,” I babbled, “when I first heard of it I thought it rather outrageous.

I didn’t really take it seriously. I wondered if you would be annoyed.”

“Have you ever seen me annoyed?”

“No, but perhaps so far there has been nothing to be annoyed about.”

“You are enchanting,” he said. “I could never be anything but pleased to see you. We shall have to do something about clothes, however. You both look too splendid to be welcome in Puritan England. Are you good sailors?” We declared we were excellent sailors, not that I could be sure of that-there was only one thing I could be sure of and that was that, when I was with Edwin, I was happier than I had ever dreamed possible.

“What Cousin Carleton will say when I arrive with two beautiful ladies I do not know. He is expecting me and my one servant. Well, the more the merrier.”

I was serious suddenly. “I hope we shan’t make it dangerous for you, Edwin?”

“Indeed not. You will make it easier. A Puritan gentleman escorting two ladies ... How natural. Whereas a man on his own with one who is obviously a servant ... that could arouse suspicions.”

“I can see’ said Harriet, “that your husband is determined to make us feel welcome.”

“Welcome,” cried Edwin, “as the flowers in May.”

I was so happy I wanted to burst into song. What particularly delighted me was his attitude towards Harriet. He was so charming with her and I could see that she felt as welcome as I.

We rode out in the pride of the morning, for we assured him we needed no rest although we had ridden through the night, and we sang as we went along-Edwin in the middle, Harriet and I riding on either side of him-on to the coast and England. Stepping onto one’s native shore from which one has been an exile for so many years must necessarily be an emotional occasion.