Page 14 of Twice Shy
It was greeted by stunned silence. Elizabeth continued to read silently to the end of the missive, her cheeks gradually becoming suffused with colour, and she did not make any further comment. With unusual tact, Amelia did not pry, thinking the verses simply too awful. They were, but were not Elizabeth’s primary concern, and she left her cousin almost immediately, her brow furrowed.
In the privacy of her room, Elizabeth unfolded the letter again. The verses were bad, and that annoyed and embarrassed her, but what was worse was Mr Escott’s conclusion.
The difference that your Pulchritudinous Presence has made, even in so Swift a time, to my works, inclines me strongly to the belief that you were Sent by the Omnipotent to Inspire Me in all myDoings. You Must know already, how I revere You, most excellent Maiden. I am Convinced that You will not only be the Ideal Helpmeet, but the Lydia to my Horace, and a Fount of Felicity. Be Assured that it shall not be long before I Reveal All, Offer All, and Anticipate your Acceptance with Joy.
75Elizabeth sat upon her bed heavily. It was, of course, quite ridiculous. No man could fall in love with a woman upon the basis of two public encounters, and indeed Mr Escott did not mention ‘love’ at all. He had simply decided she enabled him to write better poetry – though on the evidence of the stanzas before her she doubted this – and therefore assumed she would be pleased to marry him to advance his ‘career’. Were it not so appalling it would be laughable. Her first thought was to cry off from any evening parties that she thought he might attend, but common sense told her that to do so would be impossible, and that it might even encourage him, thinking her overwhelmed by the honour he did her. That she despised him, and that until the next month she was underage and could only enter into an engagement with her uncle’s permission, had clearly not occurred to him. His self-belief was total. Well, he was in for a shock. Elizabeth looked grim. He would find his plans overset, and that his ‘goddess’ was the sort who was quite capable of launching thunderbolts.
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CHAPTER SIX
Lady Chalford, when told of the forthcoming outburst of poetry, and Elizabeth’s consequent reluctance tobe present, responded in a way that Elizabeth found most unsympathetic.
‘Not attend Emily Cowper’s soirée, when she has been so kind this Season? Nonsense.’
‘This is a very particular thing, Aunt. I shall be a laughing-stock. I am sorry, for Lady Cowper has been kind to you, as her friend, and to Amelia, but …’
‘You are part of this family, Elizabeth, and you will act as such.’ Lady Chalford waved away Elizabeth’s remonstrance. ‘You may not like it, indeed I know you cannot, but I assure you that not being present when Mr Escott delivers his verses will only ensure that they are repeated to you until you are heartily sick of them.’
‘I am after one perusal, Aunt.’
‘You would be the more so if everyone you met for the next week quoted them at you, but if you hear them first77hand, then that will not happen.’ She paused. ‘At least,’ she amended, ‘not nearly as much.’
Elizabeth groaned.
‘Perhaps,’ offered Amelia, ‘he will have gone over his lines again and, er, improved upon them.’ She did not sound hopeful of this.
‘Or made them even worse.’
‘It might not be clear that he means you, Elizabeth.’ Lady Chalford joined her daughter.
‘Oh, it will, ma’am, since he alludes to me by name.’
‘Oh dear.’
‘And compares me to Queen Elizabeth.’
‘He does? Was not she the one who had lots of people burnt at the stake? Hardly felicitous.’ Lady Chalford’s history was sketchy.
‘No, that was her sister. Queen Elizabeth was the one whose sailors defeated the Spanish Armada. She is also famed for not having married, so why, other than the name, he picked upon her—’
Her ladyship interrupted. She did not applaud her niece’s erudition, but rather warned her against sounding too bookish. ‘It is better to err on the side of ignorance, my dear, especially in something such as history, which everyone knows is about the past, which is best left to itself, being full of violence, immorality and peasants in misery.’
This comprehensive dismissal of the subject left Elizabeth so much at a loss that Lady Chalford was able to introduce an entirely new topic of conversation and refuse, steadfastly, to return to Elizabeth’s forthcoming lauding in verse.
78It was with a sense of impending doom that Elizabeth prepared for Lady Cowper’s soirée, which she would otherwise have had a reasonable expectation of enjoying. Whilst she did not sing at such functions herself, and considered herself a mediocre pianist, she did enjoy the sound of both the piano and the human voice, excepting when that voice was Mr Escott’s reading his poetry. She resolved to sit out of his line of sight, lest he address the verses directly at her, and strive to remain impassive.
Lady Godmanchester was present, but her lord was not in attendance.
‘He has strong views upon “caterwauling by amateurs”,’ she whispered to Elizabeth, and giggled. ‘He has sought refuge with Lucius Radstock for dinner and a quiet evening of piquet. Poor dear.’
‘Well, at least they will not be present to hear me thoroughly embarrassed by the Awful Escott.’
‘Oh, he isn’t reading, is he?’
‘Yes. And he sent me a copy of the verses that I might be the first to see them. I only wish I could be the last. They are truly terrible.’
‘If they are then they will be shown up by others. I know Miss Campsey is singing, for her sister told me so, and she has a delightful voice, and Sir Oswald Tiverton writes the most diverting ballads, treating things like losing a button in the grand histrionic manner. Last time I heard him my eyes watered.’
