Portrait of Jonathan Read online

  ‘Fetch your mother, Giles, she’s gone to bed,’ Lord Melmoth instructed.

  As Giles hurried away the other three men stood looking down at the sleeping girl with thankfulness in their hearts. Jonathan felt Lord Rowan’s hand upon his shoulder again and turned to see tears in the older man’s eyes.

  ‘My boy, I can never thank you enough,’ and his voice broke.

  ‘I shall have all the thanks I need as long as she is unharmed,’ he murmured, and Lord Rowan looked into his eyes for a moment and saw for himself the depth of Jonathan’s feelings for his grand-daughter. He nodded understandingly.

  Lady Melmoth entered with Giles following her.

  ‘Oh, poor child,’ she said at once. ‘ Look at the state of her clothes. Jonathan, carry her upstairs and put her in my bed. Giles, send for Doctor Benning. Rupert, show Lord Rowan to the guest room. You must rest now, Wilford.’

  Lady Melmoth was once again her usual self, her one thought being to care for the girl once again in her charge almost in the same way as before.

  Jonathan carried Lavinia upstairs and having laid her gently on the bed, he found himself shooed out by his mother whilst she and her maid tried to rouse the sleeping girl and help her undress.

  The door closed behind him shutting him out. He smiled ruefully to himself—naturally his mother was right, but he had a compelling need to stay with Lavinia, never to let her out of his sight again.

  Later, when the doctor had announced that her only injuries were scratches and a few bruises, and, of course exhaustion. Lady Melmoth reported that Lavinia was ready to sleep again after the doctor had examined her, but that she was, although desperately tired, insisting that she should be allowed to see Giles before she slept.

  ‘Now, only a moment, Giles,’ Lady Melmoth told him. ‘The foolish girl will not rest until she has seen you.’

  ‘Me?’ Giles asked incredulously. ‘Are you sure she said me and not …’ He hesitated and glanced quickly at Jonathan.

  Lady Melmoth, not understanding that Giles, knowing as he did of Lavinia’s love for Jonathan, could not believe that it was he and not Jonathan for whom she was asking, replied, ‘Naturally, she wants to see her grandfather, and everyone, later when she’s rested. She’s so weary, poor child, but she is adamant she must see you.’

  Giles saw the hurt in Jonathan’s eyes, saw the gentle smile fade from his brother’s lips and, in a moment, saw that Jonathan was convinced Lavinia’s first thought was for Giles and not for him. Giles sighed. Now it would be even more difficult to bring them together, he thought.

  Giles found Lavinia drowsy, willing herself to keep awake until she had seen him.

  ‘Giles—I just wanted to tell you—not to blame yourself. It was my fault—but I know you’ll have been—feeling responsible. Don’t worry any more.’

  Her eyelids closed.

  Lavinia slept soundly through the night and did not wake until four o’clock the following afternoon, when, except for the scratches and bruises on her face and hands, she seemed fully recovered and insisted on rising and dressing for dinner.

  When she came downstairs, she found her way firstly to Jonathan’s study, hoping to catch him alone. The memory of his words when he had found her had remained with her and she could not help but hope that they may mean something. She opened the door and found him sitting at his desk his head in his hands. Slowly he looked up.

  ‘Why, Lavinia.’ He rose from his desk, but she could not fail to notice his formal use of her name and the reserve in his manner. ‘I am pleased to see you have made a swift recovery.’ Lavinia sat down in the chair near the fireplace and he sat down at his desk once more. She looked at him for a long time without speaking. He returned her gaze for a moment then he looked away.

  ‘Those—scratches and bruises—how did they happen?’ A note of sharpness had crept into his tone and she noticed his hand, lying on the desk, clenched and unclenched nervously.

  ‘I’m not sure—I kept walking into hedges, I think. I escaped and walked all last night—that’s why I was so tired. No, the night before that, I escaped—oh dear I’ve lost track of time.’

  He looked at her in astonishment as she continued.

  ‘I’ve no idea where they took me—but it was into the country. I was completely lost when I did escape and so afraid they’d come after me that every time I heard something I ducked into a field or into a ditch—hence all the scratches.’

  ‘Did you walk all the way back?’

  ‘No—I escaped the night before last and walked until daylight. I think it would be about mid-day when a carriage stopped and the one passenger was kind enough to bring me so far—then I walked again until you found me.’

  ‘Did they—your captors, I mean—did they mistreat you?’

  She glanced down at her hands in her lap and whilst she did so, Jonathan risked another glance at her. It was all he could do to control his emotions, to stop himself taking her in his arms. Last night he had admitted to himself that he loved her. In the darkness he had relived in thought all the time he had known her. It seemed, now that he had admitted it to himself at last, that he had loved her for a long time. He did not believe that it had been ‘love at first sight’, but there was no doubt that on that very first evening—so long ago it seemed now—in her parents’ house, he had even then felt the beginning of affection. Why else should he have worried about her visit to Myron? Why else should he have been so thankful that her grandfather had taken care of her? He remembered her year in France when he had looked forward to her letters without knowing why himself, without realising why the knowledge that she had met and continued to meet Francis Selwyn distressed him. He recalled the ball when Lady Anthea had so skilfully spoilt the entire evening for him by sending Lord Selwyn to dance with Lavinia. Then, he had only known that he had wanted to be with Vinny, to dance with her and look upon her smiling face and marvel at the change from the waif she had been to the beautiful young girl in his arms. He had not recognised these feelings as the beginning of love. Jonathan had never been sure what it had been that Lavinia had been trying to say to him before Lord Selwyn had whirled her away. He had thought at the time she would prefer Francis Selwyn’s company, but now he was not so sure. She had spent the last winter in Warwickshire with no apparent pining for city life and yet, on their last visit the way she had looked at him when Giles had mentioned Lord Selwyn’s visits to Lady Anthea had again made him wonder whether she was fond of Francis Selwyn.

  Then there was always Giles. Can I be jealous of my own brother? Jonathan had asked himself. In the darkness he had smiled sadly to himself. Giles was the one person to whom he could give Lavinia—if they loved each other—and not be completely heartbroken himself. She was certainly fond of Giles and he of her, but surely if they were in love, it would be acknowledged by now. Yet it was Giles she had asked to see first tonight, he had thought. Sleeplessly he had tossed and turned all night. Giles was certainly more likely to be able to win her love, Jonathan told himself. How could he, Jonathan, some ten years older than her, with an ugly scar down his face, hope to be worthy of her notice? If she were in love with any man, it must be either Giles or Francis Selwyn, he had told himself. In the cold light of dawn he had given up all thought of declaring his love to her. Now, as she sat before him, it was almost more than he could bear to see her sitting there, her lovely face marked by cruel scratches and a bruise on her forehead.

  ‘No, not really,’ she was saying in answer to his question regarding her captors’ treatment of her. ‘Jonathan,’ her brown eyes sought his. ‘ Your mother told me you were going to send a message to the steamship telling them to lose the race.’

  There was a pause.

  ‘Of course—what did you expect we should do? That was what they demanded.’

  ‘You would have done that—for me?’ she whispered, her eyes glowing.

  ‘Of course,’ he said abruptly. Fear that he would betray his feelings for her made his tone brusque. ‘I would
do it for anyone. People are more important than ships.’

  Though he spoke the truth, his words told only the half of it.

  The light of hope died in her eyes. ‘ Of course,’ was all she said.

  There was a pause before she said anxiously, ‘The message didn’t go, did it? We shall still win?’

  Despite the heaviness in his heart, her faith in the steamship pleased and amused him.

  He smiled. ‘The ship we were going to send out could not leave before noon today—so we were able to prevent it sailing.’

  ‘I’m glad—I would have felt awful if—if you’d—we’d lost the race because of me.’

  ‘I’ve told you,’ he said, ‘that wouldn’t have mattered a jot as long as it would have ensured your safety.’ His tone was a little sharp again. He could not bear to look at her sitting there looking so forlorn over the thought that he put the steamship before her welfare. If she only knew the truth, he thought, that he would see their whole fleet at the bottom of the sea before he would see a hair of her head harmed. He got up restlessly, afraid to meet her gaze, afraid she would see the passion in his eyes and be embarrassed by it.

  She stood up. ‘I must go—it’s almost time for dinner.’

  He went and opened the door for her, a tight, wary smile at the corner of his mouth. She passed out of the room close to him but her eyes were downcast and she did not look up at him.

  Over dinner, the family demanded to hear the full story of the kidnapping.

  ‘It was wrong of me to have gone without Giles—I realise that now. I do hope you don’t blame him in any way,’ she turned her clear gaze towards Lord Melmoth. ‘I’ve already told him he is not to blame himself. Well—I went to the Gardens and Roderick was waiting for me near the fountain. We talked for a few moments—oh, he spun me a fine tale,’ she laughed. ‘I was completely taken in.’

  Merriment was in her tone, but her listeners could not share her mirth.

  ‘After a while he suggested we take a short drive. As, by that time, I was fairly sure his attempts at reconciliation were genuine, I consented.’

  ‘We left the park and drove for only a short distance. We slowed a little and two men jumped into the carriage and sat either side of me. Before I could utter a word or realise what was happening, they had tied a kerchief about my mouth and secured my hands behind my back.’

  She paused and turned back the cuff of her sleeve to reveal the tender skin on her wrists still bore the bruises and soreness of those bonds.

  ‘None too gently,’ she smiled ruefully, ‘ whilst Roderick just laughed. Then the driver whipped up the horses and we journeyed for what seemed an intolerable distance. I have no idea where we were for they drew the blinds down over the windows so I could not see out. At last we stopped and I was blind-folded too and led into a building—up numerous stairs and pushed into an attic and left alone.’

  ‘Didn’t they bring you any food?’ Giles asked.

  ‘Nothing. I must have been there for several hours before I managed to free the bonds round my wrist on a rusty nail. I had lost all account of time. Fortunately for me they had not bothered to secure the door. It was frightening trying to get out of that place—I was so afraid one of them would come at any moment. Anyway, I crept down the stairs in complete darkness and somehow—though I really couldn’t tell you how—I found a door into the open air.

  ‘Then I just ran as far as I could—I did look back once—the place seemed to be a derelict farm as far as I could see.’ She shrugged and spread her hands. ‘Then I just kept walking until the carriage stopped and brought me part of the way, then I walked again until Jonathan and Giles found me.’

  Though Lavinia, in the telling of her story, had minimised the danger and the treatment of her captors, no one was in any doubt as to the frightening circumstances in which the girl had found herself.

  ‘The sooner we return to ‘Avonridge’, my dear, the better,’ Lord Rowan said.

  ‘But Grandfather,’ Lavinia cried, her eyes wide, ‘we must stay until the steamship has won. I must!’

  ‘Do you still mean you’re interested in the race after all that’s happened to you because of it?’ Lord Melmoth enquired in surprise.

  ‘Of course I am—it’s nothing to do with the steamship, is it?’

  Only Giles of their number realised that it was not just the ship itself but because it was Jonathan’s pride and joy which caused Lavinia’s unfailing interest.

  So Lord Rowan and Lavinia remained in London until the Lavinia returned. The excitement grew in the city as day by day the ships drew nearer. Wagers were taken as to which ship would win. Rumours said that the Lavinia was first, then another said that the clipper was far ahead. The ships were to dock at the East India Docks, and the last day, when it was still undecided as to which would win, found the Eldon family, Lord Rowan and Lavinia near the docks awaiting the end of the race. They were able to find a spot where they could see some distance down the river and were joined by several other spectators, for the race had caused great interest in the city.

  Anxiety was again the over-riding emotion. With Lavinia safe again, and the message never sent to the steamship, there had been no setback in the race itself. Now all their thoughts were on it. Would their ship win and show the way to the future, or would the clipper come sailing in defiantly, smashing all Jonathan’s hopes and dreams and bring, if not total ruin to the Company, at least a financial disaster?

  Jonathan remained motionless, his only sign of anxiety seeming to be his total engrossment in watching for the steamship. Giles paced up and down muttering to himself, alternating between confident elation and despondency. Lavinia, her mood matching Jonathan’s, one of quiet but tense expectancy, went to stand beside him.

  He was painfully aware of her presence, though he gave every appearance of being wholly absorbed in watching for his steamship. She, for her part, was willing her namesake to win for Jonathan’s sake. Suddenly she clutched his arm in excitement. Her sharp eyes had seen a shape looming up in the distance moving steadily towards them. Silently, she pointed, her hand returning to clasp Jonathan’s as they stood breathlessly watching the ship move nearer, waiting until they could be sure …

  Jonathan’s whisper was for Lavinia alone. ‘ It’s your ship, Vinny, it is the Lavinia.’

  ‘Oh Jonathan, it is—I know it is,’ she turned to him, tears running down her face. He looked down at her smiling tenderly.

  Then a shout went up amongst the crowd.

  ‘It’s the steamship—It’s the Lavinia.’

  People cheered, whilst Lavinia laughed and cried with happiness and Jonathan continued to gaze down at her.

  ‘It’s our ship, it’s our ship!’ The boisterous Giles bounced up and whirled Lavinia round to embrace her, lifting her completely off the ground. When she laughingly admonished him and demanded to be put down, she turned to find that Jonathan had disappeared into the crowd.

  It was indeed the steamship which had won the race and all the anxiety of the past months and weeks was over and ahead lay the fulfilment of all Jonathan’s plans.

  A little sadly, after all the excitement, Lavinia turned away. She knew she had no part in those plans and even though she knew the Eldons were her dearest friends, the future held no bright prospect for her without Jonathan.

  Lord Rowan insisted that they should return to ‘Avonridge’ the next day.

  ‘You’re looking so pale my clear child,’ he said. ‘After your frightening experience and the excitement of the race, it’s too much for you. Back to ‘Avonridge’ we go where you will take a good long rest.’

  Lavinia was not completely sorry to return to the place she regarded as her home for although she was leaving Jonathan, she realised he would now be so busy again that she would see little of him even if they did remain in town.

  As they travelled through the countryside a few days later towards Warwickshire, her grandfather said conversationally, ‘It’s time you were thinking about marriag
e, my dear.’

  ‘Oh no. Grandfather,’ Lavinia’s swift reply was scandalised.

  ‘Not that I want to lose you, my love,’ his kind eyes twinkled, ‘but it is my dearest wish to see you happily settled.’ His tone sobered. ‘Life has little meaning unless you have a loved one to share it.’

  Lavinia knew he was thinking of the idyllic years he had known with her grandmother. But how could she tell him she already knew this—how could she explain to him that there was only one person with whom she wished to spend her life? So she remained silent, hoping that this was merely idle chatter on his part, and not the beginning of a campaign to see her well-married.

  Four weeks passed in which she fully recovered and all the marks of her unfortunate experience disappeared without trace. She thought her grandfather had forgotten his words about marriage, so she was surprised when he announced one morning at breakfast.

  ‘I am expecting some guests to arrive this afternoon, my dear, one of whom will be a young man who, I believe, wishes to pay court to you.’

  ‘But Grandfather, I don’t want …’

  ‘Lavinia, you will oblige me by receiving this young man. I shall be most seriously displeased if you are uncivil to him.’

  She looked at her grandfather. She had never heard him speak so sternly and his face gave no sign that he was anything but serious,

  ‘Yes, Grandfather,’ she said meekly, and left the table without looking back so she missed seeing the mischievous twinkle Lord Rowan allowed himself behind her back.

  She spent the morning discarding all manner of wild ideas for escape from the preposterous idea that she should allow a complete stranger to court her. By mid-afternoon, however, she was resigned to the fact that she must, at least, receive the young gentleman for she could not so easily displease her grandfather after all his goodness to her.

  Mid-afternoon, which was the expected time of arrival for the guests, found Lavinia in her favourite spot, her grandmother’s small garden. Seated on the white painted garden seat, watching the sparkling fountain, she could not feel the peace and happiness she usually found in this secluded spot. She sighed. She supposed she must return to the house and meet her grandfather’s guests and her would-be suitor.