Saturday, 22 June 2013

Simple Twists in Reality - Part X


When we arrive Lewis is there to meet us and, though my mother gives him a chilling stare, he seems only too happy to see us. We head for their parlour, filled with stuffed chairs and decorative lamps. We sit down and are given the option of cakes as a starter along with some cheese and bread. Lewis’ father, Nicholas, is away on important business in England and will not be back for another three days, so we are deprived of his company.

Lewis sits next to me on a rather small couch and mother sends me a warning glance, though I already know that Lewis is too close. He has always been like that, never abiding by the rules of respectability and pushing the limits.

I suspect that is one of the reasons that we get along so well, he is not uptight like so many of the other young men that travel in our social circle.

Maria, Lewis’s mother, and Victoria, his younger sister, walk in to the room and we engage in a conversation about respectable families. It is so nice to be able to see Victoria again. We have always been good friends and on more than one occasion I have helped Victoria with things. Her reputation is almost as good as mine and we spend much time together. I have missed her greatly since she went to spend four months with her English family, learning how to be a true lady. She has promised to teach me everything she has learnt. I cannot wait to have some time alone with her and hear all about her adventure.

Our conversation soon turns into a chat about how I must be in want of a good husband and of whom would be the best choice. Victoria and I share a look of discomfort and annoyance. Both of us have heard this conversation far too many times, with either of us being the subject. Mother immediately brings up Michael, saying he is most respectable and has a good position in society.

“I have never liked Michael. He is so self-absorbed and he is rude all the time.” Lewis, speaks up, surprising everyone in the room, except, it seems, his sister.

“Oh really darling. You just don’t like the fellow because he gets all the girls and leaves you none. Don’t mind Lewis. He and Michael never got off to the right start.”

“No, really mother. He fools around with girls as though they are not people, he is rude to everyone as though we are all beneath him, and he spends much of his time looking at things that he knows he can’t have, such as you Elizabeth.”

I am so shocked by the conversation that I can’t think of a single thing to say.

“Well… Elizabeth’s father does like the idea of Henry Rutherford as well. He is most charming and is related to English royalty, did you know?” Mother is clearly trying to steer the conversation toward a more agreeable subject without changing the topic.

“Mr. Rutherford is a very respectable and well off man. He could make you quite happy, Elizabeth. I would go for him over Michael any day.” I appreciate Victoria trying to soften the topic and create a more peaceful discussion.

“Henry? You have got to be joking Ri! As if Henry Rutherford could make Elizabeth happy. He is far too sensible and strait. He looks and acts as though he has a piece of lead pipe for a spinal chord. Not to mention that he would stop her visits to the theatre as soon as was possible.” I now feel particularly uncomfortable having been referred to in the third person.

Lewis continues, “There is not one man in this city that deserves such a woman as you, Elizabeth. They all have fatal flaws and are not worthy of such a perfect companion.” I have to put all my concentration into not staring and having my jaw drop to my feet, which is incredibly difficult.

“None except you Lewis, I suppose,” his mother says.

“Well, now that you bring it up, yes. None of the men here are worthy of you but, if I was given the honour, I would most certainly take the prize jewel of this city’s female youth, and would try my utmost to be worthy of the privilege bestowed.”

As always my mother comes through for me and ruins the moment of absolute shock by saying, “Well Lewis, though you may feel that you are the only man worthy of Elizabeth’s hand in marriage she must still find herself a respectable husband, and as you have no intention of asking for her hand in marriage, I think it reasonable that we should discuss other prospects.”

“Well… no. I would gladly offer Miss Elliot a marriage proposal if I believed it to be welcome. There are many men within this hell hole who have their eye on your becoming daughter and who is to say that I am not one of them?” Well, that shut my mother up. Problem is that is that it has also shocked Ms Winchester and I into silence.

“Why don’t we head into the dining room and see what cook has made for us?” I cannot express my gratitude to Victoria enough and as soon as mother, Maria and Lewis start to leave I hurry over to her and take her arm in mine.

“Thank you!” I whisper.

“Don’t mention it. I apologise for my brother. He is very passionate about you finding a good and responsible man to take care of you. I don’t believe he thinks your mother is up to the task, though he does trust your father more. You must forgive him for his behaviour.”

The remainder of the evening passes without further mention of this topic. The whole evening is rather uncomfortable in truth, as no one wants to say what their thoughts are on Lewis’ earlier comment, however, no one can stop thinking about it. Mother seems relieved when it comes time for us to leave. She reminds the family that they are all expected to be coming tomorrow night and that the whole evening will be great fun.

I thank Ms Winchester for inviting us over for such a lovely dinner and give Victoria a well-deserved hug. We leave without further conversation. As we leave I can hear Maria and Lewis having a heated discussion over what was mentioned throughout the evening.

Mother and I pass the carriage ride home in silence, neither of us wishing to say anyhting. When we get home father inquires as to how the dinner went and I make my way straight to my bedroom where I spare no time in getting ready for bed.

***

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