Hello again! I’m back with the next section of my work-in-progress, an epistolary novella with characters from Sense and Sensibility, Persuasion, and Northanger Abbey! If you missed the first four parts (or need to refresh your memory on what’s going on), you can read the previous sections here.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Captain Jennings to Captain Wentworth
Dear Wentworth:
Your congratulations on my escaping Mrs. Lordson’s ball were premature: I received a note on the day itself from my Aunt Jennings, begging me to take her place as escort to Miss Dashwood. I could not refuse.
At eight o’clock my aunt’s carriage arrived with Miss Dashwood in it. I may say that she was very elegantly dressed, but she looked perfectly miserable. Since we could not spend our journey in silence, I greeted her in what I hoped was a civil but unenthusiastic manner. She responded with equally civil but terse replies, and was exactly the dull creature that I perceived her to be at our first meeting. After a few remarks we were quiet, and I thought how insufferable the evening would be with such a silent partner. With no regard to courtesy, gallantry, or gentlemanly behavior, I heaved a sigh and looked out of the carriage window.
“I am sorry,” she said.
“Sorry?” I repeated, somewhat surprised.
“I only meant … ah …” She looked confused, as if she was also surprised at her own statement. “That is to say, I regret that you have been compelled, against your will, to accompany me tonight.”
Another young lady might have said this sarcastically, but Miss Dashwood seemed truly apologetic. I began to feel a little ashamed of that sigh.
“Nonsense,” I said. “It is true I am here because my aunt requested me to come, but I must protest the idea that I was forced to do it. At all events, you cannot go alone to a ball.”
“Mrs. Jennings said so, but I was perfectly willing to go alone!”
“Were you? But my aunt is quite right, you know. It would be thought very odd of you if you attempted such a thing. Were you so very eager to escape me?” I said the last half in jest, but I could see from the stricken look in her eyes that I was not far from correct. Some inkling of the truth began to dawn on me. “Forgive my plain speaking, Miss Dashwood, but I can only guess that if my aunt makes no secret of her matchmaking to me, that it is no secret to you, either.”
There was a reluctant nod. I laughed. “I see how it is. She has told each of us that we ought to marry each other!”
A quick, relieved smile told me that I was correct.
“It has gone against my nature to be so rude,” she said, “but I confess I was rather indignant that Mrs. Jennings thought my marriage should be arranged by her taste and preference rather than my own! Although she is been very, very kind, and I know she means it for my good!”
“Oh, yes,” I said. “She means it for my good, as well; she is chock-full of good intentions. And just look at the result: we have each been so anxious to avoid giving the impression that we have any interest in each other that we have been perfect models of coldness. Well, now that we understand each other, we can be as friendly as we like without fearing it will be misinterpreted.”
Miss Dashwood leaned forward in the carriage and said earnestly, “Captain Jennings, you are very kind. I see that Mrs. Jennings has told the truth about you. Her praise was so elaborate I thought you could not possibly be as good a gentleman as she said. But now I see that you are truly kind and noble, and I am very grateful.”
I thought I was long past the age of blushing—whoever heard of a captain in His Majesty’s Navy actually blushing at the praise of a young woman? All I can think of is that she was looking very pretty in her ball gown and with such relief on her face. For a moment she looked at me radiantly and I basked in the glow of her regard. After a few moments, however, her brow clouded and she said, “But how will we keep her from thinking that we are going to make a match of it? If we are friendly to each other, she is sure to keep throwing us together. And she will talk of it to all her acquaintance, and everyone will think we are as good as betrothed to each other. And that would prevent …” Here it was her turn to blush and she ceased speaking abruptly.
“Which would prevent us from making other matches for ourselves,” I supplied, for I could tell she had that Mr. Thorpe in her mind. “Well, perhaps I will invent for myself some lady in Somerset that I am pining to meet again. I will take care to inform her of this at the earliest opportunity. And perhaps if a gentleman should show you particular attention, I can tell her that he is a capital fellow and she will be satisfied.”
She nodded eagerly at this, and we finished our journey to the ball in a much easier frame of mind that we had started it.
I am shocked to see the length of this letter, and you will be relieved to hear that will not recount the rest of the evening in such detail. Suffice to say, I rather enjoyed myself at the ball. I had worried that such an uninteresting girl as Miss Dashwood would be a wallflower and I would be fettered to her side all evening. Happily, Miss Dashwood rather attached herself to the Thorpes: she chatted with the daughters and danced with Mr. Thorpe and many others of their set. She was such a different creature than the one I met at that dinner at the Ferrars’ that I could scarcely believe it. Young Thorpe rather monopolized her, a little more than I felt was seemly, but perhaps he is simply an ardent young man who has yet to learn patience in the art of wooing. I could not say they make a handsome couple, and I felt a slight qualm about telling my aunt that he had fine qualities and would make a good match for Miss Dashwood when I know nothing about him. I suppose I investigate him a bit so that I can say it with confidence. Although, as my aunt is acquainted with his mother, surely she would know anything there was to know about him?
Having written the words on paper, though, I am reminded that while I do not doubt her kind heart, I do have some reservations about her judgement of people. I would not like to see Miss Dashwood married into a vulgar, ungenteel family, which the Thorpes may well be. If you happen to know anything about them, do let me know.
I will not inflict such a lengthy letter as this on you again!
Leave a Reply