Jane Rubino - Lady Vernon and Her Daughter: A Novel of Jane Austen’s Lady Susan

“I cannot say whether you are right in the general sense,” replied Reginald with a smile, “but I think that in this particular case, we must yield to Mr. Manwaring’s affection for his sister and Lady Vernon’s for her daughter. In any case, when there is to be such a private ball in London as Sir James Martin means to give, I cannot think that even Miss Vernon’s delight in the curiosities of Kent would have her prefer the country over town.”

Miss Vernon’s blush was understood only by Reginald; Lady deCourcy supposed that it was a mark of chagrin at the mention of Sir James Martin, and she declared that Miss Vernon was of an age when the loss of one ball was of no consequence. “If she should stay another month, she may accompany Catherine to town, as there are some small errands and purchases that I wish her to make, and if at the end of that, Miss Vernon does not like to be left in town, she may come with me to my sister Hamilton’s at Gisbourne—I am certain that she would find it very picturesque. Indeed, the parsonage is one of the prettiest cottages in all of England, do you not think so, Reginald?”

“I think that everybody will always think cottages to be pretty and charming, save for those who are compelled to live in them.”

“Nonsense,” declared Catherine. “I am very sorry that I have been compelled to leave Parklands Cottage—though it is so spacious and well appointed that it is an affront to call it a cottage at all—and Kent is much more to my liking than Sussex.”

Sir Reginald saw a pained look pass over Miss Vernon’s countenance. “I must think that it is your fondness for your mother and me that influences your attachment, Catherine, and Miss Vernon can feel no less for Churchill Manor. Affection will always make a castle even of a cottage. But even if Gisbourne’s parsonage were a palace, I do not think that Miss Vernon can put off her return to London, as I understand that the ball Sir James Martin gives is in her honor.”

“And it is an honor that is not undeserved,” added Lewis deCourcy.

Lady deCourcy and her daughter said no more, and soon afterward the party broke up to allow the gentlemen to rest and refresh themselves after their journey and the young ladies to attend to packing their belongings for the return to London.

Sir Reginald repaired to his son’s apartments and asked his brother to join them. “I think, brother, that I may be frank with you. I have laid my misgivings before Reginald and your long-standing acquaintance with Lady Vernon must make you a party to them. Many things that Miss Vernon has said—but more particularly what she has not said—have made me uncomfortable with Charles’s manner of dealing with her and Lady Vernon after Sir Frederick’s death.”

Lewis deCourcy looked very grave and gave a brief account of his interview with Lady Vernon on the subject when she had stopped at Bath. “Charles may not have done wrong in doing less than was stipulated by Sir Frederick’s will—I am only surprised that he has not done more. I know that the terms of the will were such as made sense at the time it was drawn, and indeed there is some merit in keeping fortune and property together.”

“Yes,” agreed Sir Reginald. “I would be remiss if I did not leave a good portion of money with Parklands, as I wish always for Reginald to keep it in proper style. But if the residue should be insufficient for Lady deCourcy’s comfort, I know that you, Reginald, would need no written document to compel you to do right.”

“I would not wish to remove any advantage from my niece and her children,” said Lewis deCourcy, “but I have often thought that it was a great pity that Sir Frederick and Lady Vernon did not have a son. If only Miss Vernon had been a boy—”

“I am sure that my son cannot agree with you there,” said Sir Reginald, smiling. “Charles has written to Catherine and suggested that I come to town for the benefit of a London practitioner, which I am inclined to do.”

“That cannot be necessary, brother. I have not seen you in such excellent health for some time.”

“For that, I credit Miss Vernon. Indeed, I do not think that I have ever been less in need of doctoring than in this past month. Charles’s invitation is given only with the object of securing a more comfortable situation at my expense—but he does not anticipate the price I mean to exact for his convenience.” 

The party did not reassemble again until dinner, and Sir Reginald immediately announced his intention of accompanying his son and brother to town.

Lady deCourcy endeavored to express something like concern and protest—“You are not in health to stand the journey, I think” and “There is talk of the influenza in London”—but after one or two more attempts, she decided that having Sir Reginald go to town would entail no difficulty or sacrifice on her own part, and that her time with Catherine might be even more pleasant when free of those inescapable attentions one is obliged to direct toward one’s husband.

The remainder of the dinner passed in pleasant conversation. Sir Reginald and Miss Vernon engaged in a spirited discussion of one or two projects that they had begun in the hothouses, and Lewis deCourcy joined his brother in recollections of some youthful incidents that the young people found highly diverting.

When Lady deCourcy made a move to rise, her husband’s brother rose and bade her wait. “I have some information that I think—I hope—will bring as much joy to my family as it has to me.” And taking the hand of Miss Manwaring, who was seated beside him, he continued, “Miss Manwaring has done me the very great honor to accept my hand in marriage, and as her brother has given his consent, I hope that I may persuade you all to wish us well.”

Lady deCourcy was far too surprised to express anything like joy and yet not so surprised as to be shocked into silence. “Engaged?” she cried. “Engaged to Miss Manwaring? Why, what do you mean, brother? If you mean to have a joke at our expense, it is a very poor one! Surely you mean to tell us that you have got engaged to Lady Martin!”

Reginald was compelled to smile at Miss Vernon’s attempt to conceal her diversion at the notion of a union between his uncle and her aunt.

“I assure you, sister,” said Lewis deCourcy with greater civility and forbearance than the lady deserved, “that my inexperience with the decorums which are part of the practice is not so great that it would lead me to mistake the object.”

Reginald now put himself forward to announce his prior intelligence and express his pleasure in the connection. “Though if I cannot bring myself to call you ‘Aunt’ you will forgive me,” he said to the young lady with a smile. “I hope that when the happy event takes place, you will consent to have me address you by your Christian name.”

Lady deCourcy was not quite ready to relinquish her protests. “You do not know what you are about. How can you think so little of your brother’s health? He cannot bear anything so shocking. A marriage to Lady Martin could be withstood well enough, but such a proposal as this will send him straight to his bed.”

“My dear, how could my brother’s happiness have anything but a most favorable effect upon me?” declared Sir Reginald. “I can think of only one other announcement that would make me happier than the prospect of my brother’s union.”

Then, rising from his chair, he went over to Miss Manwaring, took her hand and kissed it with great formality, then expressed his delight at the prospect of calling her “sister.”

Catherine, who had sat speechless throughout, suggested to her mother that it was time for the ladies to withdraw, and Lady deCourcy, with a reproachful look at them all, strode into the drawing room and took the chair closest to the fire.

Reginald accompanied the ladies in order to keep his mother from importuning Miss Manwaring. Fortunately for the young ladies, it was the custom for the children to be called down after dinner, and in entertaining them with some books and puzzles, Miss Vernon and Miss Manwaring were able to avoid Lady deCourcy’s disapproving glances.

“I think I have been very ill used for Miss Manwaring to have presented herself as an unattached young lady!” maintained Lady deCourcy to her son and daughter. “Catherine and I had quite settled upon her as the children’s governess—they must have a governess and Miss Vernon will not do, for once she is in town, she will not be allowed to quit her mother’s house again until she marries Sir James Martin. I cannot blame Miss Manwaring—it is a very great step up for her to be a deCourcy, but I pity your uncle—to have got so foolish in his stage of life. I think your uncle is very much to be pitied, do you not agree, Reginald?”

“I think I shall reserve my pity for the Reverend Mr. Heywood, who has seen two excellent prospects come to nothing. A gentleman’s joy of surviving his wife must be considerably lessened if his second choice marries before circumstances allow him to make her an offer.”

“Reginald, do not run on in the manner that you do in town—I cannot bear such levity when I have been thwarted in everything.”

“How can you think yourself thwarted in anything, madam? You have a daughter married and four handsome grandchildren, a husband whose health is remarkably improved, and a brother-in-law engaged to a charming young lady. That is a very strange notion of ill treatment.”

“You delight in provoking me.”

“Indeed, I do not—but it is a provocation that you will not have to endure for very long. Tomorrow I return to town and you may be at peace once more.”