The Imaginary Gentleman (3 page)

Edward smiled. “It is not like you to repeat a visit of form.”

“Perhaps I wish to show off my hero brother.”

Edward laughed and rang the bell at Number 54.

 

In the hall, Laura introduced Edward to the master of the house, having made his acquaintance at the Assembly. The master apologised for his lady's absence.

“I gave her no notice before calling,” said Laura. “Your wife received me—a complete stranger to her—very kindly last week. My brother and I are on our way back to the inn.”

Edward bent to sign the visitor's book. Laura had made up her mind not to run her eyes over the names and looked determinedly away.

The gentlemen began to discuss the progress of the war. Edward replied to queries about his career, all old tales for Laura, and she found that her gaze drifted down to the book. She bent her head, the better to read the names, running her eyes from her brother's name to the top of the page and saw nothing to interest
her. Her fingers all but twitched with the sore temptation to lift the corner of the page, but she resisted, attending again to the gentlemen's conversation.

“Why, Captain Morrison, we recently had a visiting ship's captain, whom you may well know. Let me see, now …” He made a comic little half-bow to Laura as he reached for the guest book, flipped to the previous page and ran his finger down from the top. Laura's eyes followed his finger. He turned back another page and was stabbing away at the name, his meaty palm covering much of the entries.

“Hah! I never forget a military man! Here he is! Captain Bonner. What a pity you have missed him—what stories you could share! He was a fine figure of a man.” He glanced at Edward's empty sleeve and he reddened slightly. “He arrived on the 10th of August, but stayed scarce above a week.”

He lifted his hand at last. Laura leant forward from his side to scan the list. Mr. Templeton's name was not there. She smiled wryly at herself—an old spinster of thirty resorting to such desperate measures to merely read a gentleman's name was a sight sorry enough to laugh at!

T
HURSDAY PROVIDED IMPROVEMENT IN THE
weather and in the colour of Mrs. Evans's nose, sufficient to calm her terrors. She was supported down the stairs and into the street. Once in the public eye, she was provoked that her brother could give her but little support. Instead of appearing frail and interesting on the arm of a naval captain, she must walk with her sister and have her brother limping on ahead of them—lurching almost, as he lacked the imagination to move with slow dignity.

“Do be kind enough to point out Mr. Templeton if you should see him, Laura.”

Laura was silent.

“I relied upon Mr. Templeton to liven me and have seen nothing of him.”

“You are much better now, Elspeth. The purpose of our visit to Lyme was to lift your spirits not to meet with Mr. Templeton, of whose very existence we were ignorant a week ago.”

“I cannot understand what has become of him these three days! A true gentleman would have sent a message if unable to keep his promise.”

Laura frowned. “I confess myself as surprised as you,” she said. “I took him for a person who would be scrupulous in honouring an engagement.”

Elspeth smirked. “You are not, perhaps, such a good judge of character after all, Laura.”

“I imagine he is still at this place near Axminster. Perhaps he is unwell.”

“You take it very calmly, Laura. I am excessively disappointed.”

Laura was again silent, lost in thought. Only two days had passed, it was true, yet she had expected at least to hear from Mr. Templeton by this time. He could have been overtaken by the rainstorm as he rode to Charmouth—surely he was now ill. Were he merely detained
on his mercy errand, he would have sent word. Did the wild weather on Tuesday lend a romance to their meeting that was not really there? No, she thought, from their very first meeting, there was a strong feeling of mutual interest between them. Certainly some indisposition or even an accident was keeping him from her.

Laura looked at her brother, walking ahead of them down the street. What pleasure she would have in introducing them to one another!

Elspeth sighed crossly. “You are not entertaining me this morning, Sister.”

They went along the path a little way, to where Edward awaited them, and Elspeth looked out into the harbour.

“What a pretty little bay,” she said. She sniffed and pulled a face. “It smells of fish!”

“A shocking occurrence by the sea,” said Edward, looking at Laura who had to hide a smile. He pointed to the breakwater. “Ah, the Cobb. A magnificent structure, is it not, Elspeth?”

“That great thing puts me in mind of a fearsome serpent!”

“Nonsense, Elspeth. In no time at all, you will be walking along the lower walkway—not everyone has Laura's confidence in walking along the top.”

“That is all very well for you to speak so, Edward. You lack my delicacy.”

“You waste your delicacy on your brother, my dear.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you care for me at all, Edward.”

“I like you best when you are sensible, Elspeth,” he said.

Elspeth dabbed at her eyes. “I wish to return to the inn.”

Her brother and sister acquiesced and turned back. Only the distractions of the tea shop and haberdasher's were permitted to delay the party's return to the safety of their sitting room.

 

By the following day, Edward was restless from so little activity and proposed a walk with Laura upon the cliffs as far as Charmouth. Elspeth subsided onto the sofa, bemoaning the dangers.

“So wild a proceeding for a young lady! It is four miles, at the
very least, and a stiff climb at the beginning.
You
will pay a penalty, Edward.”

“I will pay it without complaint,” he said.

She settled for sending the carriage to meet them at Charmouth.

Laura and Edward ascended the steep street; then crossed the fields towards the top of the cliff. Soon they found a spot where the view over Lyme opened before them. The captain, too proud to let his sister indulge him, had forced the pace. Now he drew breath sharply.

“Let us enjoy this spectacle for a few moments,” he said.

“I have tired you, Edward.”

“I will do very well, Laura, if you will just help me to sit here by this rock.”

She helped Edward to lower himself onto a patch of tough straggly grass, where he leant against the rock, facing the view of Lyme Bay. He patted the ground next to him.

“Thank you but that grass looks prickly. Perhaps we might turn back soon, Edward.”

“I will be thinking I am with my other sister, if you continue to be so assiduous in your care of me.”

“Never that!” She pointed out at the sea beyond the breakwater. “Look there, Edward! Are they not the fishing boats returning?”

“I believe you are right.” He took out the small spyglass from his pocket, unfolded it and studied the boats as they came back to harbour.

“That dark weedy patch in the bay would be a splendid spot for fishing.”

“Oh, yes,” she said absently.

He swept the glass further across the bay. “I will show you how the fishermen are using the tide to sweep them back towards the harbour.”

“Mmmm.”

Edward lowered the glass and looked at Laura sharply. She was gazing around her unseeing, and he wondered if she thought of the
mysterious Mr. Templeton. She felt his gaze and stared at him defiantly, until he laughed and raised the eyeglass again. The path was well back from the unstable cliff, and wound through scrubby foliage so that she could not see far. Leaving him to enjoy his amusement, Laura looked around a great clump of gorse and a longer view of the path opened before her.

She was caught by a kind of breathless laughter, for, some distance ahead, she discerned a familiar figure walking in her direction. Knowing how little her brother would like another man to watch him raise himself clumsily from the ground, she said, “Edward, there comes one whom I would wish you to meet.”

He looked into her face and chuckled.

“Hush!” she said and helped him to his feet, bending to retrieve his stick from the ground.

“Laura, I did not think to see you blush so!”

“I am not blushing, as well you know.” However, her eyes shone.

Laura watched as Edward folded his spyglass with irritating deliberation.

“Come,” she said, standing at the bend in the path, looking back at Edward as he came to her. She stepped a little aside so he could get a good footing on the path.

Only then did Laura turn. She could see how the path continued to wind through the gorse. Laura stared. The path was deserted. Quite simply, there was no one to be seen in the entire stretch of the trail before them. Laura gave a small half-laugh of surprise, of embarrassment, of bewilderment. Edward began to speak, stopped, and she sensed his desire to laugh, so she turned away and frowned out across the sea of heather, her bonnet screening her face from his scrutiny, while the sea birds swooped and squawked above.

“You've merely made an error,” the captain said, the laughter not altogether extinguished from his voice.

“It was something else I saw,” she said, sounding somewhat bitter when she wished to sound wry. “A tern or perhaps something larger, a rabbit.”

She felt little amusement in her own jest. She felt herself to have
something in common with that furry creature just then. She knew her brother would be holding back a witticism or two.

“You are very good to me, Edward.”

“You deserve more than my paltry supply of goodness.” She felt the sympathy now, in his look, as he surmised her disappointment.

“Come,” he said. “Let us on to Charmouth. I believe we are suffering from an excess of fresh air and bird squawks.”

They finished their walk in awkward silence. Edward's thoughts were engaged with the new impression that his sister, at the age of thirty, was at last in love. There seemed no other explanation for her fancied sighting of the man on the cliff path. The whole matter seemed unsatisfactory; he wished to make this gentleman's acquaintance as soon as might be.

The carriage awaited them in the yard of the Charmouth inn, and Laura entered it at once. If Mr. Templeton was in the village, she had no intention of revealing herself. A basket of refreshments had been prepared with slices of freshly baked pound cake, some bread and cheese and a flask of wine. With shaking hand, Laura poured herself a glass and took a small bite of a slice of the cake, its faint aroma of Madeira failing to please her in her unsettled state. The captain stood alongside the carriage, enjoying a tankard of ale and a hefty slice of beef pie brought out from the inn, while Laura sat well back from the window.

Edward made up his mind to keep the incident upon the cliff secret from Elspeth.

 

On their return, they found Mrs. Evans was already interesting herself in her sister's arrangements.

“My dears, I have discovered from the servants here that no Mr. Templeton, no tall clergyman, has been seen at the inn this past week.”

“That is peculiar,” said Edward. “A young man who has walked into town will require refreshment somewhere. Perhaps he went to the Three Cups.”

“That cannot be it,” said Laura. “On Saturday, he joined Mrs.
Gurdon and me as we walked down to the sea wall and afterwards for refreshments in her sitting room just along the passage here.”

“So we have an acquaintance in common with Mr. Templeton, Laura?”

“Naturally, Brother. Did you imagine I had struck up a conversation with a stranger in the street?”

“Of course not. Nothing is simpler, then,” said Edward. “We must call upon Mrs. Gurdon, who may be able to solve the puzzle of the gentleman's whereabouts.”

“No, no, Edward,” said Elspeth, crossly. “Mrs. Gurdon has been very ill for several days. Otherwise, I should have scarcely forgiven her neglect of me.”

Edward turned to Laura. “How then is it possible that the servants here claim no knowledge of the gentleman?”

“I cannot explain it.”

“Your maid may have some news of him.” He rang the bell and asked for Sarah to attend them.

Sarah was able to enlighten them on Mrs. Gurdon's condition, having had a gossip with that lady's maid. The old lady had taken a fit of apoplexy three days before but was recovering. However, she was still frail and very much wandering in her mind. The physician had said she was to have no visitors yet.

“Did your conversation with your new friend touch upon Mr. Templeton, Sarah?”

“Mr. Templeton, sir?” She shook her head. “I know of no Mr. Templeton.”

“Of course you know of him, Sarah,” said Laura. “He is the gentleman with whom I was speaking three days ago, on Tuesday, near the Assembly Rooms, on that very windy morning.”

Sarah shook her head stubbornly.

“There weren't no gen'leman, miss, not as I saw.”

All three stared at the girl in silence and disbelief. Her chin stuck out and a pout appeared as she repeated, “There weren't no gen'leman—there were no one, save my mistress and me in all the street. I'm not lyin', miss. You tell me when Sarah Jones ever told you a lie.”

Laura felt very strange, as though silence filled her head, leaving her unable to think; it was like a noise that throbbed in her temples.

Elspeth said, “We know you for an honest girl, Sarah. That will be all. You may go.” The girl tripped to the door, glancing back once to see Laura sitting still and strange-looking.

“Let us all have a glass of wine,” suggested Elspeth. “Edward—would you be so kind as to assist our sister?”

Edward went across to the table and poured the wine. Elspeth looked significantly at Laura, who continued to sit enveloped in silence.

“Let
me
help you,” said Elspeth, arising from the sofa. She placed a glass of wine convenient to each and sank back upon her cushions. She looked at the light shining through the claret, imagining how well she would look in ruby-coloured satin, cut low in the bosom, with a long blonde curl straying over her shoulder. She took a sip.

“Laura, dear, you forget your wine!” she said.

“Thank you,” said her sister belatedly. Her numbed senses began to return to her and she swallowed a mouthful. As she began to think clearly again, she realised why it was that Sarah had not seen Mr. Templeton—and began to speak. “I became confused and forgot—”

Elspeth interrupted her sharply. “This must stop, Laura!”

“What must stop?”

“This talk of Mr. Templeton has given me a headache. Every day I wait for him to present himself and he does not! He has taken himself off without notice—after you have been meeting him alone! Where was Sarah when you saw him on the shore?”

“I met him alone but it was not by intention.”

“You have met him three times, you say, and yet I, your sister, know not even what he looks like, and your maid—who accompanied you on your walk—has never even heard of him! I am deeply shocked.”

“How do you dare—” began Laura, to be cut off by her brother's words:

“You are being hasty, Elspeth. I think it best if you apologise to your sister.”

“I—who am the wronged party—ought to seek pardon?”

“These are wild criticisms levelled at a sister who has never been anything other than a lady.”

“When I hear that Laura has done no wrong, I will take back my words and not before.”

“Then kindly refrain from remark for a few moments, at least.”

Ignoring Elspeth's huffy shrug, Edward turned to Laura. “Will you tell me the history of your meetings with Mr. Templeton?”

“Nothing could be simpler or more innocent. Mrs. Gurdon presented him to me at Number 54—no, it was in the street. Mrs. Gurdon greeted a gentleman by name and introduced him to me. We all walked down to the sea and then together back to the inn, where we took refreshment in Mrs. Gurdon's room. Mr. Gurdon was absent.”