Miss Price's Decision Read online

  “Indeed! I certainly have never seen any fashionable spots,” I said. “And think of the shopping! We will find the most heavenly fabrics in London, and see all the elegant people, and take note of the latest fashions.”

  “Oh, Susan, you know how to cheer me up. But Sir Thomas, do you think it is wise?”

  Sir Thomas gently patted Lady Bertram’s hand.

  “I am convinced that you will enjoy it very much, dear, and I will make sure you are perfectly comfortable at all times.”

  “In that case, I cannot object to going,” said she, smiling in his direction.

  We all drew a breath.

  ”I shall write to Julia first thing tomorrow morning so she knows to expect us,” said Sir Thomas with resolve. Then, turning to me, he added in a business-like tone, “Susan, please speak to Mrs Wilkinson to make all the necessary arrangements on behalf of Lady Bertram. She should not be disturbed or troubled in the slightest and I trust you will protect her from unnecessary hassle. Her health and happiness is my greatest concern.”

  Sir Thomas looked at his wife with tenderness and took her hand to his lips. Lady Bertram blushed most becomingly. Edmund was also holding Fanny’s hand tight, and she was smiling gently. As for me, I am ashamed to admit that something had been stirred deep inside my spirit. I supressed a smile. A change of scenery was coming, at last.

  Chapter 2

  “May I have a word with you, miss?”

  Mrs Wilkinson, the Mansfield Park housekeeper, was at my bedroom door. On my bed there was a sprawl of gowns, gloves and shawls. I was in the process of deciding what items should be packed for the upcoming trip to London, but everything looked too tired, too old or too outdated to be given the privilege.

  “Of course. Please come in,” I replied.

  The housekeeper approached me with her usual competent air, but I noticed her brow was creased. I wondered if there was a problem with the preparations. My uncle had tasked me with overseeing them, but Mrs Wilkinson and Chapman, my aunt’s lady’s maid, were bearing the brunt of the work.

  “As you know, Chapman has served Lady Bertram faithfully for the last ten years. She is devoted to her mistress and works to the highest of standards.”

  “So Lady Bertram tells me,” replied I with an encouraging smile.

  “Well, Chapman has a most particular request. Upon hearing that the family is to travel to London, she was wondering whether she could be granted a few weeks to spend with her family while her ladyship is away.” Lowering her voice, Mrs Wilkinson added, “My understanding is that her mother is very unwell, possibly on her deathbed.”

  “I do not think her application can be declined. Given the circumstances, it would be uncharitable to do so. Have you spoken to Lady Bertram yet?”

  “I have not. I wanted to hear your opinion before engaging a new lady’s maid as a temporary replacement. You know how little Lady Bertram likes change, so I thought it more prudent to consult with you.”

  I nodded.

  “You have done well. What do you recommend?”

  “Murphy has shown an interest in replacing Chapman in her absence.”

  “Murphy!”

  The young maid was the last person I would have considered for the role. She had been in service for little over a year, and only on account of her uncle being one of the footmen.

  “The girl is very eager, and we have no other option unless we bring someone from outside the household. Chapman assures me that she can teach Murphy the basics of her new obligations before her ladyship’s departure.”

  I sighed.

  “In that case, I suggest you speak to Sir Thomas at your earliest convenience. He will be able to explain the situation to her ladyship.”

  “Thank you, miss,” said Mrs Wilkinson with satisfaction, and promptly left the room.

  I stared at the pile of clothes in confusion. I needed some fresh air. Opening the cabinet in the corner, I took out an old leather pouch and battered cardboard portfolio. Then, I grabbed a threadbare blanket from the chest at the foot of the bed and headed outside.

  I did not go far, certainly not to the forest behind the hill, with its meandering paths full of promise, or to the fountain that welcomed visitors in the main approach. I chose a spot not far from the shrubbery, sat down on the blanket and prepared my drawing materials. They were nothing fancy, just a few used pencils, crayons and bits of charcoal that I had found in the deserted Mansfield Park nursery, as well as and a handful of scraps of paper. In the pouch, amongst the sketching materials, rested my most precious belonging, a silver fruit knife that had belonged to my sister Mary. Having it there and seeing it every time I sat down to draw never ceased to fill my heart with tenderness.

  I began to sketch the opening petals of a perfectly pink camellia. Calmness soon enveloped me like a warm shawl and I let out a sigh, allowing my thoughts to drift to my Portsmouth days. Mary was my best friend for the first twelve years of my life, until her premature death robbed me of the pleasure of her company. Losing the person I most cared for was not unlike having my soul cleaved into two. I was lucky to have Fanny — gentle, thoughtful Fanny — but Mary’s nature was so full of life, so powerful and resolute, that I could not help but miss her at times.

  Of course, Mary’s demise had the unexpected consequence of bringing me closer to Jamie. He was a lively Portsmouth boy who used to play with many brothers, and was closest in age to Richard, who was just a couple of years older than me. When Mary died, Jamie’s kind heart and willingness to listen at such a difficult time made a powerful impression on my tender spirit. Jamie had experienced the loss of his father just a few years earlier, and appeared to understand my grief and inner turmoil better than I did. In the two years that followed the death of my sister, my affection for Jamie grew until it became something else.

  I finished my sketch and narrowed my eyes to appraise it. My drawings never turned out to be quite what I had in mind, but this one was acceptable. More to the point, my frayed nerves were now soothed. Mary and Jamie may no longer part of my life, but their memory never ceased to comfort me.

  Just a week after the decision to leave for London had been made, all was arranged. Mr and Mrs Yates confirmed that they would be able to accommodate us at Berkeley Square. Mr Munro, for his part, managed to obtain a much-coveted appointment with Dr Levain, the highly respected Harley Street physician who specialised in disorders similar to my aunt’s.

  On the day before our departure, my sister Fanny, her husband Edmund and their little boy William joined us from Mansfield Parsonage. It was a glorious day. After lunch, Sir Thomas excused himself on account of having to go over some estate business with Mr Shillington, his steward, prior to the journey, and the rest of our party sat in the chairs outside, in a shady spot by the old oak tree. Lady Bertram began fussing over the toddler, who was remarkably well behaved, but as soon as the tea things were brought in, William traded his grandmother’s attention for the sponge cake. My aunt watched him eat with a beatific smile. Then, her expression changed and she let out a deep sigh.

  “I do not know if going to London is a good idea. I fear I do not have the inclination, and I am so very tired! Maybe it would be best to cancel the trip altogether.”

  Edmund took it upon himself to convince Lady Bertram that all was perfectly settled, that she would enjoy seeing Julia very much, and that the new turnpike road really made the journey very comfortable. However, I noticed that it was Fanny’s silent looks that told him what to say and how to say it. I marvelled once more at the luck of my sister in securing such a favourable match, particularly given her retiring disposition. She was a woman delighted with her fate, and very much in love with her husband.

  I wondered if I would be fortunate enough to feel such synchronicity of hearts with another human being. I had had it once, a long time ago, but I had lost it. Surely, it was something too rare to be repeated in a short human life.

  Some time later, Fanny asked me to show her Lady Bertram’s roses
, which had just been pruned. As we were inspecting the work of the head gardener, my sister spoke to me, her voice barely a whisper.

  “Please look after Lady Bertram. The smallest disruption in habit is quite capable of rendering her most miserable. Promise me that you will do your best to ensure she is as comfortable as possible during her time away from Mansfield Park.”

  “Of course, sister. You know that I am always by our aunt’s side.”

  “I realise you care for her very much, but I sometimes worry about you.”

  I looked at Fanny with irritation.

  “You need not concern yourself.”

  “I know you well, Susan. You have a sweet temperament, but your nature is inquisitive, and you are growing restless. I see it all the time, in your shrugs, your sighs, your lonely walks around the park. But you must reign in your frustration and be more patient. Apply yourself and be Lady Bertram’s main support. Your happiness depends on her wellbeing.”

  Her words only increased my annoyance.

  “If her ill health takes us to London, I may as well enjoy the journey.”

  Fanny looked at me with concern.

  “You do not realise the danger in your situation, Susan. I beg you, do nothing foolish. Do not discard the security that you have so painstakingly achieved after all these years. You must think about your position within the family.”

  “But I do not know if I want to stay at Mansfield Park forever.”

  “Well, then,” replied my sister in an even tone. “If you do not see your future here, try making the most of your London stay.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Fanny’s lips were just a line on her face. With a gentle movement, she took my arm and pulled me closer.

  “I am referring to your only other alternative, Susan. Do you not wish to marry?”

  “I can’t!” I exclaimed, my insides suddenly feeling as tight as a binding knot. Fanny looked at me with some surprise. I blushed and collected myself. I must not let the truth be known.

  “You are very pretty and lively, sure to attract male attention,” continued Fanny. “Our father is in no position to provide any financial support, but our uncle would not leave you destitute. He has been very good to Edmund and me, and he assisted our brother William in his naval career, too.”

  “But I do not want a husband,” I protested.

  “If you want to leave Mansfield Park, it is your only option.”

  “I could become a governess.”

  Fanny looked at me with pity.

  “Oh, Susan. I do not wish you the fate of a governess. It is the saddest of lives. Governesses are utterly dependent on the will of their masters, the disposition of their mistress and the obedience of their charges. But above all, dear sister, you would make a poor instructress.”

  “That is not true!” I hissed. “I am good at the fine arts, and even Sir Thomas admires my botanical sketches.”

  From beyond the rose garden, I could see Edmund’s enquiring gaze set upon us. Fanny gently shook her head and looked at me gravely.

  “You cannot rely on drawing flowers alone to work as a governess. What do you know, other than reading, writing and the most basic grasp of numbers? You are in no position to teach about history, geography, ancient mythology, philosophy or foreign languages.”

  I coloured.

  “We both know that as a young girl your education was much neglected, but you must admit that you have shown little interest in improving yourself since arriving at Mansfield Park.”

  I looked away. I had tried my best to read some of the many books she and Edmund had recommended over the years, but I remembered little about them. Fanny did not say another word, and squeezed my hand instead.

  We joined Lady Bertram, Edmund and little William for a while, but the mood of the day had changed for me and I extracted little pleasure from the rest of our time together. Soon, it was time for the young family to depart. There were hugs and the odd tear as my cousin and sister said their goodbyes and expressed their best wishes for a comfortable and eventless journey. Before leaving, Fanny searched my company again, and as she was adjusting her bonnet, she spoke to me in a whisper.

  “Promise me that you will at least consider marriage with the right man.”

  I heard Edmund ask his wife if she was ready to leave. I felt tears burning inside my eyelids but there was little else to say. I nodded, embraced her, and she was gone.

  The following morning, well before sunrise, we left the Park in the Bertram carriage. The first couple of hours passed in silence and darkness. I could not stop thinking about the conversation with my sister. A sensible match, one as far from my own mother’s marriage as possible, looked like my only chance at life outside of Mansfield Park. I should listen to the advice of my friends and find an honest and prudent companion, capable of providing for me and our eventual family. I should forget about promises long given when I was barely out of childhood.

  I sighed. If only I had been born a man, I knew exactly what my fate would have been. By now, I would be my uncle’s loyal steward in the West Indies, watching over the family’s interests in those lands. My uncle found the management of the faraway estate a chore, and of late had been keen to delegate some of the work to his heir. However, my cousin Tom did not appear too interested in the issues concerning the Bertram plantation, and his indifferent state of health had prevented him from returning to Antigua on his father’s behalf. I, on the other hand, could not imagine greater happiness than moving to the other side of the world to help my family through hard work and make the most of my moments of rest to draw the botanical delights that lived in such exotic climates. Alas, as a young woman, and an unmarried one at that, such a future was unthinkable.

  Dawn finally came, and it seemed to remove the uncomfortable cobwebs of Fanny’s words. The sky was covered in thin blue cloud and the sun appeared now and then, giving the outside world a more cheerful appearance. As more could be observed from the carriage window, I became as excitable as a puppy about to be taken on its first hunt. Everything bewildered me, or made me wonder, or sent me in a reverie. The variety of landscapes, the half-feathered chickens at the side of the road, the many distinguishable trees and flowers, the different styles of buildings; they were all new and intriguing to me. Meanwhile, Lady Bertram, with her pug on her lap, would comment every ten miles how lucky we were to find all roads dry and practicable, how much easier the journey seemed compared to what she had feared, and how right Edmund had been with his assurances.

  We stopped for lunch at the Dunstable Inn, where we were served a rather tough beef stew, and resumed our journey. By mid-afternoon, the novelty of being on the road had worn off. For a moment I wished I had my sketching materials with me, but they were safely packed in my trunk, and in any case, it would be impossible to draw anything with the carriage being so shaken about. The constant rocking motion finally sent me to sleep, and when I woke up it was already dark. I looked outside and realised that we were in London, but to my disappointment I could not see anything other than the pools of light of street lamps and whatever happened to be right next to them.

  The carriage finally stopped outside the Berkeley Square residence of Mr and Mrs Yates. Even in the dark, one could see that it was impressive. The handsome white stucco house had suitably impressive columns framing the entrance and the largest windows I had ever seen outside of Mansfield Park. At once, a man with the expedient efficiency of a well-trained butler emerged from the main door and approached the carriage, followed by two footmen.

  Sir Thomas frowned and descended to speak to the servant, closing the door behind him. Lady Bertram was snoring by my side and I tapped her gently on the arm to wake her up.

  “We are in London, Aunt.”

  “Oh. Where is Sir Thomas?”

  As if on cue, my uncle opened the carriage door and offered his hand to his wife.

  “My dearest, we have arrived.”

  “And Julia? Where is Julia?”


  “The butler has just informed me that Mr and Mrs Yates are attending a prior engagement. They will be back late, so they will see us in the morning.”

  Lady Bertram’s lips drew a perfect oval for a few moments, but she quickly composed herself, and we all stepped inside the house.

  Beyond its impressive façade and the sweeping marble staircase that spiralled up from the foyer, the Yates’ London home was a rather long and narrow building. It had no doubt been built to provide a magnificent set of front rooms to impress the visitors; the rest of the house looked to be a bit of an afterthought, and it certainly was not as large as one might expect. I was keen to see more of it, but Sir Thomas decided that Lady Bertram was too fatigued for anything other than a cold repast in her bedchamber, so my explorations would have to wait until the morning.

  The butler, after instructing the footmen to unload the carriage and Wilcox where to stable the horses, ushered Sir Thomas and Lady Bertram to their chambers on the second floor. Murphy, now officially my aunt’s lady’s maid, went upstairs behind them to help her mistress undress. Meanwhile, a maid with an inscrutable look asked me to follow her. We walked to the back of the house and climbed up a steep wooden staircase until we reached a windowless corridor right underneath the eaves of the building. I followed her, feeling the floorboards creak underneath my feet with every footstep I took, until she stopped in front of an old door and opened it.

  The room was tiny, furnished with a chipped washstand in the corner and a battered bedside table flanked by two narrow cots. Although it was only spring, it was very hot, because the single window, located above one of the cots, was tiny. The room was smaller even than the one I used to share with Mary in my parents’ modest Portsmouth home as a child, with the difference that here the smell of dust and rat droppings was much more perceptible. I shuddered.