Colonel Brandon's Diary, Page 2

  ‘I do not think I like your idea of being a man.’

  ‘No? University has taught you nothing, then. A pity. I was hoping you would learn to hold your liquor and develop a taste for women, so that we could carouse together, as brothers should, but it seems that you have returned as dull as you went.’

  We went into the house together, but we could not think of anything further to say to each other. We parted in the hall, he to go upstairs and I to go in to my father.

  I found him in his study, looking through a pile of papers.

  ‘So, you are back,’ he said, glancing up once then continuing with his work.

  ‘Yes, indeed, Father, as you see.’

  ‘And what have you been doing since you went away?’

  ‘I have been studying, sir.’

  ‘Studying?’ He threw his quill down on the desk, then looked up at me in astonishment; whether feigned or real I could not tell. ‘Studying! You take my breath away. I had no idea you would do such a thing. It seems I have raised a scholar! Dear me.’

  ‘Hardly that,’ I said uncomfortably, for somehow he always manages to disconcert me.

  ‘No? ’

  ‘No, sir, I have simply been trying to repay your kindness in sending me to Oxford by working hard for my degree.’

  ‘A degree?’ he asked, as though it were some kind of rare and exotic animal. ‘So that is what you hope to gain, is it? It seems an unusual desire for a young man of your background. Pray, tell me, what do you intend to do with it when you have it? Do you mean to set yourself up as a clerk, perhaps? Or maybe you have higher aspirations?’

  ‘I have indeed, sir,’ I said, trying hard not to squirm.

  ‘I am glad to hear it. And to what do you aspire? To become a schoolmaster, perhaps, or do you hope to reach the exalted ranks of a tutor?’ he asked satirically.

  ‘No, indeed . . .’

  ‘No? Surely you do not have an even higher calling in mind, for what could be a higher calling than looking after another man’s brats; brats who will treat you with insolence, at best, and more probably openly revile you? ’

  ‘I hope to go into the law.’

  ‘Ah. The law,’ he said, leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingers. ‘The law,’ he repeated, savouring the words as though they were a glass of wine; though what his pronouncement would be on the vintage, I could not guess. ‘I congratulate you,’ he went on, with a smile that lacked any humour. ‘If you work hard, then at the end of ten years you might have enough money to buy yourself a horse.’

  ‘The law has greater rewards than that — ’ I said, stung to reply.

  ‘But not for an honest man,’ he interrupted me, ‘and you have always struck me as honest, James. Unless you mean to surprise me? ’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘I should not have sent you to university this year, it was too soon, but I allowed myself to be swayed by your tutors, who assured me that you had learnt everything they could teach you, and that you were intelligent and likely to thrive. But you were not mature enough. And now you have set your feet on the wrong path and you stand in need of some advice. Abandon all these notions of hard work and degrees and do what I intended you to do when I sent you to Oxford in the first place. Make some friends — ’

  ‘I have friends, sir.’

  He raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Really? You pick a strange time to mention them. Nevertheless, I am very pleased to hear it. Friends are the basis of life. They can be very useful if treated properly, so tell me about these friends of yours, James, and tell me of what use they can be to you?’

  As so often, when talking to my father, I felt as though we were speaking different languages, which shared the same words but not the same meanings.

  ‘I do not understand you, sir.’

  He sat forward in his chair and rested his elbows on his desk.

  ‘Dear me. I must have been very remiss in my duties towards you if you do not know what I mean by useful. What connections do they have? What help can they give you? And how many sisters do they have?’

  ‘I never took any account of those things . . .’

  ‘You astonish me. How is it that a young man such as yourself, not deficient in intelligence, an avid student — so he tells me — with no defects of person or manners can fail to take account of such things? Tell me, how do you mean to live once you are out in the world?’

  ‘By going into the law, sir, as I have already told you.’

  ‘And as I have already told you, a man cannot live on what the law provides. Therefore, my advice to you, James, is to return to Oxford in a better frame of mind than the one in which you left. Think of your friends in the light of the help their families can provide. They might have livings at their disposal, or better yet, they might have impressionable daughters with generous dowries who would welcome the attentions of a handsome young man such as yourself. Cultivate those who can be useful to you and disregard the rest.’

  ‘I do not think — ’

  ‘No, my boy, I’m well aware of that!’ he said with a dry laugh.

  ‘What I mean is, I prefer my friendships to be with my friends.’

  ‘Ah. I have not just raised a scholar, I have raised an idealist, it seems. Well, my boy, I wish you well of it,’ he said, taking up his quill. ‘I hope you will be very happy. You will invite me to your lodgings one day ten years hence, I hope, so that I might see the splendours you have won with your labours.’

  He said no more, but turned his attention to his books, and after waiting a minute or two to see if he would speak again, I left the room.

  I wriggled my shoulders, as if to shake off something unpleasant, a habit acquired through long years of conversations with my father, and then I found myself wondering what he would have said if I had told him of my plan to marry Eliza. Would he have congratulated me on becoming affianced to an heiress? No, probably not. He would have berated me for not finding another one. Nothing would please him more than to marry Eliza to an earl and gain a string of great relations, and I believe he would have laughed at me if I had told him of my intentions.

  I returned to my room and found that my trunk had already arrived. Dawkins had unpacked it and my evening clothes were laid out on my bed.

  I had time to write a few letters before changing for dinner and then I went downstairs. Eliza was in the drawing room, her hair bound up with a ribbon that matched the blue of her eyes. Harry was already drunk. As we walked into the dining room, his gait was unsteady. My father merely smiled, as though Harry afforded him great amusement, and I guessed that this was not an unusual state of affairs.

  ‘I will be giving a ball in three weeks’ time,’ said my father to me as we began our meal. ‘It is a long time since we have had such a gathering at Delaford and it is time we entertained our neighbours. They need an opportunity to criticize our house, find fault with our arrangements, disparage the efficacy of our servants and revile our taste. Your studies will allow you time to attend, I hope?’

  ‘Yes, Father. As you know, I am on holiday now.’

  ‘Very true. But an industrious young man such as yourself might wish to work on high days and holidays. Indeed, if you are to advise the neighbouring farmers on their contracts, you must work hard now to make sure that you do not lead them astray in the future.’

  Eliza glanced at me and we both hid our laughter behind our napkins, whilst Harry laughed outright.

  ‘What! You mean to become a lawyer!’ he said, reaching for the bottle and pouring himself another drink. ‘My brother, the attorney!’

  ‘It is a noble calling,’ replied my father gravely. ‘If your brother applies himself, then he might one day own a gold watch.’ He turned to Eliza. ‘I hope you are looking forward to the ball, my dear. Now that you are seventeen it is time you went into company. You have your new gown, I know, and a very pretty gown it is, I am sure, but is there anything else you require? You have only to ask and it will be yours.’

 
; ‘A fan, perhaps,’ said Eliza, ‘and some new slippers.’

  ‘Then you must go into town and buy anything you wish. You will be opening the dancing with Harry, so you must look your best.’

  Eliza looked at Harry and then sighed as he spilt wine down his coat, but he only laughed and poured himself another glass.

  I was glad when the meal came to an end. When Eliza withdrew, my father and Harry were silent, and I waited only five minutes before following Eliza. She was singing with great sweetness when I entered the drawing room, and as I sat and listened to her, I thought I would endure a dozen such evenings for the pleasure of hearing her voice.

  My father and Harry did not follow for some time, but when they returned, they robbed our time together of its sweetness. Eliza finished her song and then retired. I soon followed. If not for Eliza, I would be off again tomorrow, but her presence keeps me here.

  Friday 26 June

  I rose with the dawn, awakened by the birds, which sang lustily outside my window. I was soon dressed and went down to the stables, where I lost no time in saddling Ulysses and setting off across the fields. There was an early mist which hugged the ground, turning the green fields white, but it soon burnt off to reveal a glorious day. The sky was a brilliant blue and skylarks soared, and I felt my heart expand with the joy of being at home again. I rode down to the village and then I walked back along the country lanes with the trees making a canopy above me.

  I returned to the stable yard with a hearty appetite, and having given Ulysses into the charge of my groom, I went inside. There was no sign of Harry but my father was there, eating his breakfast. He looked up once as I entered the room, but after a few remarks on the poverty of lawyers, he returned to his steak. Soon afterwards he finished his meal and, without another word to me, left the room. I helped myself to ham and eggs from the food laid out on the sideboard and made a hearty meal.

  Sitting back at last, I looked out of the window, over the lawns and down to the lake. It was a perfect morning for rowing, and I decided to see if the boat was in good order or if it had been allowed to decay.

  I went down to the boathouse and I was pleased to find that the boat was sound. Once I had taken it out and tied it up by the jetty, I returned to the house to ask Eliza if she would care to spend the morning on the water.

  As I approached, I heard music coming from the ballroom. When I passed the window, I saw Eliza practising her steps with an elderly gentleman whose hair was white and whose shoulders were bowed. I laughed, and she turned and saw me. I clutched my hand to my chest in a charade of a broken heart, and she had the goodness to laugh, too. I heard her dancing master asking her what she found so amusing, and she was chastened until the lesson came to an end.

  I waited for him to leave and then I joined her in the ballroom.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked me. ‘I thought you were out riding.’

  I pulled a tragic face.

  ‘I have come to release you from our engagement. I see now that I was wrong to ask for your hand. Your dancing master is so handsome that I cannot keep you from him. I wish you happy, my dear.’

  She looked at me saucily, and stopping only to fetch her bonnet, gloves and parasol, she took my arm and walked out into the garden with me.

  ‘Were you a little bit jealous?’ she asked me.

  ‘My dear Eliza, I was so jealous that, if he had been as handsome as you declared, I would have asked my father to dismiss him at once.’

  ‘Good. I am glad you were jealous.’

  ‘And I am jealous of Harry for being able to open the ball with you.’

  She frowned.

  ‘I would rather open it with you. But I am only to dance the first two dances with him and then my card is empty.’

  ‘Then you must dance the next two with me.’

  She sighed happily.

  ‘Is this not perfect, James?’ she asked, looking round her. ‘The sun up above and the scent of the roses perfuming the air? How I love the summer. I believe I could never bear to leave here, with everything so dear to me, if it were not for you. We must have a rose garden when we are married.’

  ‘We will have one, even if I have to make it for you myself,’ I promised her. ‘And we will have everything else your heart desires. My father may laugh, but I am young and ambitious, and I have a reason for succeeding. We will be happy and prosperous, Eliza.’

  ‘I do not doubt it.’

  We walked down to the water’s edge and I helped her into the boat. She steadied herself as it rocked from side to side and then, having gained her balance, she sat down, arranged her skirt and opened her parasol, which framed her face as beautifully as a picture.

  I climbed into the boat, untied it and picked up the oars. Having settled them into the rowlocks I pulled on the right oar and sent the boat out onto the lake. The water lilies were in bloom, their leaves as large as saucers and their white flowers opening like stars to reveal the gold at their heart, whilst around them the water reflected the bright blue sky.

  Eliza removed her glove and let her hand trail in the water. I watched the quicksilver liquid flow over her slender white fingers, mesmerized.

  ‘How perfect this is,’ she said. ‘To be here, with you.’ She murmured softly, ‘Rejoice, waters of the Lydian lake, and laugh out loud all the laughter you have at your command. Your master is home.’

  She smiled at me, and I was so much in danger of drowning in her smile that I reprimanded her, and said, ‘Your Catullus is faulty,’ hoping to break the mood, but it was no good; the mood was not to be broken.

  ‘My Catullus might be faulty, but not my heart,’ she said softly.

  I could fight it no longer. The splashing of the water against the oars, the soft kiss of the breeze, and the sight of Eliza there before me, drew me into the moment and held me there as though silken tendrils had wrapped themselves around my heart.

  ‘If I could write the beauty of your eyes,

  And in fresh numbers number all your graces,

  The age to come would say, “This poet lies;

  Such heavenly touches ne’er touch’d earthly faces.” ’

  As I spoke, I felt that Shakespeare must have written those lines for Eliza.

  She lay back, allowing the sun to slip beneath her parasol and drift across her face, painting her skin with golden rays, and I marvelled at her beauty, and the wonder of her loving me.

  ‘If I could trap a moment in time, then I would trap this moment and hold it for all eternity, with the sun on my skin and the water cool on my hand and the skylarks singing and you here with me,’ she said. ‘When I am old and grey I will come back here in my memory and we will be young again, in the first throes of love.’

  ‘When you are old and grey I will bring you back here and we will row on the lake, just as we are doing today,’ I said.

  We fell silent, needing no words, and we did not go in until the clouds began to thicken, and the first fat drops of rain began to fall.

  I tied up the boat and gave Eliza my hand, and we ran back to the house, reaching it as the rain began in earnest.

  ‘I have a fitting with my dressmaker this afternoon,’ she said.

  ‘Then I will not see you until dinner time.’

  ‘No.’

  We could not bring ourselves to part and we lingered there a while, but when the clock on the stable chimed, we knew we had to go our separate ways so that we could meet again this evening.

  I passed the afternoon on horseback, riding hard, and then went in to change for dinner, arriving early in the drawing room in my impatience to see her again.

  She came in at last, in a yellow dress that set off her hair.

  ‘Was your fitting successful?’ I asked her, going forward.

  ‘Yes. I need make only one more visit to the dressmakers and my dress will be ready.’

  ‘Good, good,’ said my father, who had entered the room in time to hear her. ‘You need something special to wear, for the ball wi
ll be one to remember. James, you must wear something special, too. In the light of your future plans, perhaps you will honour us by appearing in a periwig.’

  ‘I am glad I thought of going into the law, since it has afforded you so much amusement,’ I said, having grown used to his ways again.

  ‘My dear boy, pray do not do it on my account. Your brother affords me quite as much amusement as a man has a right to expect from his children,’ he said, glancing at Harry, who looked the epitome of a dissolute rake. ‘Indeed, I have been very fortunate in that respect.’

  Harry ignored him, but poured himself another drink and carried it through to the dining room.

  When we were all seated and the soup had been served, I said, ‘I am glad you are holding a ball, sir.’ For he spends too much time alone, and I am sure that that is the cause of his strange humours.

  ‘At this present time I must make the effort, indeed I must,’ said my father, tasting the soup and adopting a resigned expression, for, in truth, it was insipid. ‘It is not every day that my son and heir contracts an eligible alliance.’

  I almost dropped my spoon in my astonishment.

  ‘An eligible alliance?’ I asked, looking at Harry and then back to my father.

  ‘Yes, your brother is engaged,’ remarked my father calmly, between mouthfuls of soup.

  ‘But I have heard nothing of this!’ I said.

  ‘And will not hear anything of it, officially, until the ball,’ said my father. ‘That is when it is to be announced. The ball will add an element of grandeur to the announcement, and will lend it due weight and importance. Ladies like such things.’

  Eliza and I exchanged startled glances, for to hear of my brother’s engagement in such a manner seemed strange indeed.

  ‘And who is the lucky lady?’ asked Eliza.

  Harry lifted his glass to her and smirked. ‘You.’

  ‘Me? ’ she asked in bewilderment, then laughed.