Lament for a lost lover

It was strange to think of Lucas as a married man. His bride was a pretty girl and they were clearly in love, which delighted my parents. Although they wanted a suitable marriage for Lucas, they would not have been completely happy if the pair had not been in love.

He was no longer my little brother. I could not subdue him. I was the sister up from the country and he could patronize me as I used to him.

It was a turnabout I did not relish, and I knew then that my mother was right. I had shut myself away with no interest but in domestic matters when great events were going on in the world.

Lucas’s wedding was celebrated with a banquet and a ball. I knew little of the new dancing but I had a natural rhythm and was able to make a reasonable showing. My parents presented me with pride to people whom they thought would please me, and so I met several young men who, I suppose would be called eligible. Many of them had known Edwin and the fact that I was his young widow made me a figure of interest. But having known and loved Edwin I found everyone of them suffered in comparison. Their wide breeches edged with lace, their flowing cravats, their enormous wigs, their brocade and satin coats, with ribbons everywhere, about their waists, in their shirt-sleeves, even tying their periwigs, made them seem like exquisite popinjays. It was hard to think of these delicate scented creatures as men. How different from my father and Lord Eversleigh in their uniforms which gave them such dignity. I felt nothing but the need to escape from these scented creatures with their swift repartee and a sort of spurious wit and constant innuendo.

I was a widow and therefore no inexperienced virgin. I was supposed to understand and to respond to their overtures.

I was rather relieved when Carleton Eversleigh took my hand and led me into the dance. “I am not an expert performer,” he warned me. “But at least I can rescue you from poor Jemmy Trimble. He’s a foolish fellow and I could see how he wearied you.” I raised my eyebrows and he went on: “Mind you, you might consider the change one for the worst.”

I replied: “It was good of you to give me a thought.” It is not good at all to follow one’s inclination. I saw you and ought how charming you look in fashionable garments. You should adorn the fashionable scene more often. You bring a freshness to it. You have a look of coming from another sphere.”

“The country mouse, perhaps?”

“Mice can be such pretty things, especially when they come from the country.”

“And what are all these exquisite creatures? Cats, I suppose, come to catch the mice?”

“Exactly. They are on the prowl. You see they have so recently been let out to roam freely. They can now adventure in the open. Their wickedness has become merely amusing. It earns them a laugh from their friends instead of eternal damnation as in the past.”

“You are very flippant.”

“It was ever a failing of mine. But without flippancy of any sort I will say how it delights me to see you here. You have at last decided to trust precious Edwin to his nurses. I’ll warrant you are wondering even at this moment whether he is safe. Admit it.”

“I do think about him.”

“Old Sally Mullens looked after his father and his aunt. She is like an angel with a flaming sword. I can tell you I had one or two brushes with her when I was trying to make a man of Edwin. She was afraid a little rough treatment would kill her darling. I wonder if history is going to repeat itself?”

“What do you mean?”

“We can’t have little Edwin growing up into an effeminate young gentleman afraid to venture out in case a drop of rain gives him a cold.”

“I shall know how to bring him up.”

“In some ways, yes. You will smother him with love and devotion. But even now he is aware that if he becomes too venturesome Mama is thrown into a panic. ‘What would your dear mama say?’ asks Sally Nullens. ‘That’s dangerous, that is.’ And little Edwin thinks: ‘I must be careful. I am so precious. I might get hurt if I did that.’ That’s no way to bring up a boy, Cousin Arabella.”

“You exaggerate. He will be taught riding, fencing, everything that a boy ought to know.”

“He lacks a father. Now a child needs both his parents. The mother’s loving care and the father’s guiding hand.”

“It is good of you to be so concerned.”

“Concerned. Of course I’m concerned. We are talking about the future Lord Eversleigh.

Young Edwin will have a big responsibility and so will you.”

“His grandfather is going to live a good many years yet.”

“We hope that will be so, but when a grandson inherits he usually does so before he is mature. That is why Edwin will have to be rather especially reared for his role. I promise to help you. It is, after all, my affair. In a way I am his guardian. I know the Eversleigh affairs as well as my uncle does. You forget that before Edwin was born and after his father was dead, I was the heir to all that will now pass to your son.”