Henry Tilney's Diary (9781101559024) (5 page)

‘Well, this is certainly good,' said Mama. ‘Simple elegance is always preferable to studied artifice.'

‘The Count de Vereza – Hippolitus – has been admiring Julia, and the marchioness's heart has been corroded with jealous fury,' Eleanor helpfully explained.

‘Dear me,' said Mama.

I continued:

‘She is making that up,' said Eleanor crossly.

‘I thought she might be,' said Mama, with a smile at me.

Eleanor gave a dreamy smile.

‘Well, it is all innocent enough,' said Mama approvingly. ‘You may read it with my blessing. But now I think I will have a rest before dinner. I am a little fatigued after our exertions.'

‘I wonder if there will be any counts at the supper party on Saturday,' said Eleanor.

‘About a dozen, I should think,' I said, ‘and they will all be ensnared by your charms. Indeed I think it certain that they will all be fighting over you, for the heart must be either fickle or insensible in an uncommon degree, which can boast of freedom in the presence of Eleanor.'

‘Now you are laughing at me,' she said, but she was beaming with happiness.

I left her to her daydreams and, making the most of the fine weather by calling my dogs, I went down to the river to do some fishing. The sport was good and I caught three fine specimens which were served up at dinner.

 

 

 

Eleanor and Mama spent the day sewing, aided by Mama's maid. Frederick was still lying low, and I rode over to the Maples. Stewart was at home and Charles Plainter was there. All three of us rode down to Copse End.

‘My sister is looking forward to the supper party,' said Stewart. ‘Mama wants her to marry Frederick.'

‘She is too late. Frederick is going into the army.'

‘Yes, I had heard something about it. Been behaving too wild, has he? I thought as much. But nothing so trifling as that will stop Mama,' he said. ‘She and Pen are determined to have him.'

‘No amount of determination will make Frederick do something he does not want to do,' I said. ‘Frederick goes his own way. He . . .' I was going to say that he had had his heart broken, and then decided against it. ‘. . . does as he pleases.'

‘Will you be there?' asked Stewart.

Charles said that he would be there with his family, whilst I said that I would be there for supper, but not afterwards.

‘I have escaped, too,' Stewart said. ‘I have to attend the parties at our own house but Mama says that I am still too young to go to our neighbours for evening parties, for which I thank God. I wish I could stay sixteen for ever. Supper parties are bad enough, but dancing is worse. Give me my horses and dogs, my old clothes, let me do as I please and I am happy, but stuff me up in all that rig and make me play the courtier and I am miserable.'

I was not entirely of his way of thinking.

‘I like company, if it is good, but too often it is tedious. Everyone says the same things over and over. However, my sister Eleanor will be having supper with us, it is her first grown-up party, and her delight will carry me through.'

 

 

 

Papa has spent the day harrying the servants, making sure that everything will be ready for Saturday. One of his old friends, the Marquis of Longtown, is coming and my father wants to make sure everything is perfect. Mama and Eleanor have again been sewing, and Frederick at last seems to be coming out of himself. He suggested that we should go riding this afternoon, and although I had already been out this morning I obliged him. He talked to me a great deal, about his fears for the future, his disappointment in love and his feeling of purposelessness.

‘What use is an heir before he inherits?' he asked. ‘There is nothing for him to do.'

‘Except go into the army,' I said. ‘Perhaps you will like it.'

‘It will at least get me away from here. The general will never hand over the reins whilst he has breath. If I had enough money I would buy a place of my own.'

‘Then marry an heiress,' I said lightly. ‘Stewart says his sister has set her cap at you.'

‘What, Pen Maple?' he asked incredulously, reining in his horse, and then he began to laugh.

I had not heard him laugh since his disappointment and I was very pleased to hear it. His horse danced beneath him, snorting, as if to join in the amusement.

‘Yes, both she and her mama are determined to have you,' I said, stopping beside him.

‘Penelope Maple is the last woman on earth I would marry,' he retorted.

‘You have still not forgiven her for beating you at sledging down the back hill when you were eleven then?' I asked.

‘Did she? I had forgotten that.'

‘Surely not. You must remember the terrible trouble she was in when her mother discovered she had taken a tray from the kitchen and used it as a toboggan.'

He roared with laughter.

‘So she did,' he said.

‘Does that make you look more kindly on her?' I asked.

‘Of course. I will marry her tomorrow,' he said.

‘You could do worse,' I remarked.

The laughter left his eyes and his mood became dark.

‘I could do better,' he said.

He set off again, trotting at a sombre pace. His gaiety had gone and although I tried to bring it back again I did not succeed.

 

 

 

The abbey was full of activity today as the house was prepared to receive our guests. Mama took to her room this afternoon to rest and Eleanor, full of energy, darted from room to room, unable to settle in her excitement at the idea of attending her first grown-up party.

‘You will wear a hole in the carpet,' I told her. ‘Do sit down.'

‘Henry! How can you sit still?' she asked me.

‘Easily. Come and sit down, bring
A Sicilian Romance
and we will see what is happening to Julia now that she is in love with Hippolitus. Will she win him, or will her evil father and even more evil stepmother ruin her happiness for ever?'

‘I hope that Julia and Hippolitus get married and live happily ever after,' she said.

‘It will be a very short story if they do. Ah, here is Julia, thinking of her One True Love:

‘Of what use was that?' asked my sister unsympathetically.

‘Do you not think you might faint, if you were in her predicament?' I asked.

‘I never faint,' she declared. ‘I think Julia ought to run away with Hippolitus.'

‘It seems that Hippolitus is of your mind,' I said, continuing, ‘for Hippolitus suggests that very thing. And Ferdinand, that most noble of brothers, agrees that it is the only way to happiness.'

Eleanor seized the book from me in her eagerness and read,

I read over her shoulder as she fell silent in her perusal of the lovers' miraculous escape to the shore, but we did not read at the same speed and so I reclaimed the book, continuing to read aloud:

‘Again,' said Eleanor, not impressed with Julia's fortitude.

I closed the book dramatically and said, ‘And now, it is time to dress.'

‘Oh, no!' said Eleanor.

‘Oh, yes! You cannot be late for your first supper party.'

‘But poor Julia! What is to become of her?'

‘What indeed?'

‘Do you think she will be forced to marry the duke?'

‘It seems to be the lot of heroines to be forced into unhappy marriages,' I said.

I stood up and walked towards the door, whilst Eleanor danced along beside me.

‘I wonder if I will be sacrificed to the ambition of my father when I am older?' said Eleanor with interest.

‘I think it most likely,' I said with a smile.

‘Then I must hope I fall in love with a good and wealthy man like Hippolitus before that happens.'