‘You cannot leave it any longer,’ I said to her this morning, when we met at Charles and Margaret’s house.
‘I know, but I am waiting for Frederick to be home,’ she said.
‘How so?’
‘Because our father will inevitably be angry with Fredrick about something before the week is out, and that will divert his attention from my sins,’ said Eleanor.
I could tell, despite her half-smile, that she was worried about telling him and I offered to do it myself.
‘No, there is no need, I have made up my mind to tell him on Friday,’ she said. ‘Frederick’s coming home tomorrow means that there will surely be something he has done to upset our father by the day afterwards.’
Charles, overhearing our conversation, said that Frederick would be sure to do something to upset our father within an hour of arriving at the abbey, never mind a day.
‘And if not,’ he said, as we went in to dinner, ‘send me a note, Eleanor, and I will do something to annoy him myself!’
Charles’s house was such a happy one that we were loath to leave. Though the building itself is in need of some repair and the kitchens are antiquated, the atmosphere is infectious. Eleanor was at her liveliest. I sometimes forget how lively she can be, how bright and sparkling, because the abbey crushes all the life from her and she is seldom anywhere else. I am looking forward to seeing her in her own home, where there will be nothing to crush her and everything to support her spirits.
When I returned to the parsonage I looked around it and made a note of the decorations I still need to complete before it will be fit to receive Catherine, for although I believe she could be happy anywhere, I want her to have a home she can be proud of.
Friday 19 July
A letter from Eleanor. She broke the news to my father and was alarmed at his anger, but upon her saying that the viscount approved of her choice, my father’s rage disappeared like a summer storm. His brow smoothed and his face was wreathed in smiles.
I have found the magic words, she wrote. Whenever he is angry I have only to say ‘the viscount’ and he is instantly in a good humour. Which is lucky, because Frederick has done nothing to anger him so far. And speaking of Frederick, Henry, I mean to invite him to stay with us after our marriage, and you and Catherine must come too. We will hold a house party. If Catherine and Frederick are to be related – and they are – they must put their differences behind them.
I applaud her spirit, but I fear it will not be so simple a thing to bring about. Catherine has still not forgiven Frederick for causing her brother so much unhappiness. She talks often of her family and she loves her brothers and sisters as much as I love Eleanor. It seems that James is still unhappy, and although I believe he does not regret Isabella, it has shaken his confidence in women and he avoids their company. It will not be an easy thing for Catherine to forgive.
Friday 26 July
Eleanor’s wedding day, and she has never looked more beautiful, but I am ashamed to say that I had eyes for no one but Catherine. She has become much more confident in the last few months, and although in one way it made me glad, it made me sad also, for there was something about her old naivety that I used to love. But just when I was thinking it had gone for ever, and was mourning its passing, she began to talk to me about her latest novel. Her eyes were wide and before long we were speaking of villains and dungeons just as breathlessly as before. She might no longer expect to find such adventures in England, but I am delighted to learn that she still believes such extraordinary people and amazing occurrences might exist on the Continent, and as the war makes travel impossible, I hope she will believe so for ever.
AUGUST
Thursday 22 August
Eleanor has been true to her word and she has invited us all to a house party at her splendid new home. Our father never tires of hailing her as ‘Your Ladyship’ and I believe he loves her now ten times more than when she was simply Miss Tilney. Thomas is truly deserving of her and he has made her very happy.
Eleanor, Thomas, Catherine and I walked through the grounds this morning and as we went down to the lake, Eleanor and Thomas were reminiscing over their first meeting.
‘I felt very awkward,’ said Thomas. ‘I knew so very few people and it was a relief to me to meet you’ – turning to Eleanor – ‘and find a kindred spirit. My poor servant was just as much overawed as I was, and the poor man was so flustered by all the grandeur of the abbey that he left behind a collection of washing bills in a cabinet. He only told me about it after we had arrived back at my modest rooms, when it was too late to reclaim them.’
Catherine started and blushed, then burst out laughing. We looked at her enquiringly, and she, torn between embarrassment and humour, revealed that she had found them late at night, but that her candle had been extinguished before she could examine them.
‘You need say no more!’ I exclaimed. ‘You were certain you had found a letter from Matilda, telling of her cruel treatment and unnatural imprisonment by her monstrous father – or uncle – or guardian – who was determined to force her into a distasteful marriage in pursuit of his own ambitions.’
She blushed again but admitted it was so, and we all laughed together.
‘I am glad they gave you such an adventure,’ said Thomas. ‘At least you had entertaining company from the start of your visit. When I arrived at the abbey I knew no one but Frederick.’
At the mention of Frederick, Catherine stiffened. Eleanor, seizing the moment, said, ‘My brother will be joining us tomorrow.’
‘Then you must excuse me if I withdraw,’ said Catherine.
‘But I will not excuse you,’ said Eleanor. ‘You must make your peace with Frederick. You are to be brother and sister, after all.’
Catherine did not like the notion but in deference to Eleanor’s wishes she determined to remain and to act with at least the appearance of civility.
I wonder what tomorrow will bring.
Friday 23 August
A surprising day. Frederick arrived this afternoon and although he did no more than bow to Catherine, he watched her throughout dinner and seated himself next to her when we retired to the drawing room afterwards.
Catherine tried to excuse herself, but he would not let her go.
‘You do not want to talk to me, I see, but I must insist, even though you are still angry with me for having come between your brother and his betrothed,’ said Frederick.
Catherine did not deny it.
‘You must have liked Isabella a great deal,’ he said.
‘I certainly did not,’ returned Catherine. ‘I never was more deceived in anyone in my life.’
‘But you thought she was good enough for your brother?’
‘No,’ said Catherine decidedly.
‘Then we have more in common than you suppose, for I did not think she was good enough for him, either.’
Catherine was surprised and then thoughtful. She said, with a frown, ‘Do you mean that you came between them deliberately, because you did not want them to marry, knowing they would be unhappy?’
‘Let us just say, I gave Isabella an opportunity to show her true worth and she availed herself of it,’ he said. ‘I felt it better that your brother should discover her true nature before he married her, rather than afterwards.’
‘To be sure, that would have been very dreadful,’ Catherine acknowledged.
‘You are angry with me at the moment, but do you think that one day we might be friends?’