Book Overview

The refitting at Portsmouth of the frigate that was to be his enabled Captain Grundy, newly promoted, to visit his father and his fair cousin in time for Elmsworth’s Spring Ball, one of the most prized of the monthly gatherings which the town in all but title now merited.

It was with great pride that Hester introduced her cousin to the set, who were agog to meet a young man about whom they had heard so much. He, in his turn, was happy to meet his cousin’s friends, with each of whom he had gallantly promised her that he would dance.

Resplendent in his uniform, which added dash to a face that was more honest than handsome, and with a pleasing manner, he won the admiration not only of the set, but of every other single female in the room, as well as their mothers. The latter judged him excellent husband material, whilst their daughters were merely giddy for his attention.

For his part, Captain Grundy, acting with due impartiality, danced first with his cousin, whom he then permitted to chuse the order in which he would dance with the rest of the set, before he was allowed to partner others in the room.

Nobody could take offence that Hester’s first choice for him was Miss Lancing, the pre-eminence of whose father all but commanded it, and whose sad want of sparkle was unlikely to eclipse the merits of those to follow. Poor Eliza scarcely lifted her eyes above his chest as she struggled to answer his questions, until the kindness of his tone by degrees reassured her; at which point she lost sufficient shyness to meet his eye, which met hers with sympathy rather than the disparagement she too often faced at home.

As a result, by the time they returned to the others, her face was flushed with sensations far pleasanter than shame.

Hester’s next choice was Kate, for no better reason than that in his youth Dr Grundy had courted Mrs Fawcett before either had married, which gave the captain an opening topic of conversation, which he broached as soon as the usual pleasantries had been exchanged.

“It seems, Miss Fawcett, that when my father first lived here as a young man, before he went abroad to study, your mother held the key to his heart,” he said with a smile.

“Really, sir, I never heard any such thing,” she replied, not at all amused. “I trust you are not implying that she dallied with his feelings, for that she would never do.”

In truth, Kate knew the story very well, since it had been of sufficient surprise to Elmsworth that Miss Chisholm, as Kate’s mother was then, should have preferred a mere attorney to a scholar of good family; as a result, the tale had rumbled on, to the amusement of Henry and his cousin, who felt that proud Miss Chisholm had missed her opportunity –but to the fury of Kate.

Not only did she resent any idea that her father had married only for money (though there was no denying the value of Miss Chisholm’s ten thousand pounds), but Kate had heard the rumours that Dr Grundy’s pursuit of fun and fortune at the time had been more single-minded and selfish.

“You mother’s intentions were entirely honourable,” the captain replied, breaking into her thoughts. “If my father has a fault, it is that he lacks that easy conversation with which those who have it the more readily press their suit. He was thus no match for your father.”

“Have a care, Captain Grundy, for your implication is all too apparent: that my father’s sole virtue was a silver tongue, by which my mother was all too readily beguiled.”

They relapsed into angry silence. He was astounded that remarks intended only to amuse could have been taken so amiss; whilst Kate resented his presumption that her parents’ motives were his to debate.

A silver tongue, she thought, more properly belonged to Dr Grundy. His dalliance in Vienna, already alluded to, was not without precedent. Having failed to win Miss Chisholm, being at the time a second son with no more than academic plaudits within his grasp, he had – thus it was said – so successfully defended the honour of a young, widowed and consumptive Roman contessa, that on her romantically early death she had bequeathed him a fortune sufficient to secure the hand in marriage of an English lady much pursued by rivals for her thirty thousand pounds, a prize far greater than Miss Chisholm’s ten.

“I see that I have offended you,” he said, recovering himself. “Be assured that such was the opposite of my intent. I trust that you can forgive a sailor’s bluntness.”

“If you can as readily forgive mine,” she replied, reminding herself contritely that Captain Grundy was hardly to blame for his father’s exploits, or that in his childhood, he had lost not only his real mother, but both his foster parents, and that Dr Grundy – in taking back his son and adopting Hester as his ward – had finally done right. “Had I been born a man,” she continued, “it seems my frankness would have been suited to shipboard life.”

“As you were not, I should not wish you exposed to its privations.” He held up his hand to forestall her protest. “Though I do not doubt your willingness to endure them.”

Accepting the compliment with better grace, she begged him to tell her of the Navy. “You may spare me a description of the privations, but I would learn more of the workings of a ship, and by what means you are able to traverse the oceans so skilfully.”

He needed no encouragement, and the remainder of the dance passed pleasantly enough. Appreciating her grasp of past difficulties in computing longitude, he judged that she would be a better midshipman than wife; while she remained certain that Mr Catesby in his dedication to Sanditon Bay was the worthier man, disappointed though she was at the absence which this had enforced upon him.

Captain Grundy’s next partner was Amelia, who had every intention of flirting with him, if only to show Major Lancing that her happiness by no means depended on his company, however delightful. She hoped that Captain Grundy – also an officer in uniform – would prove as lightly amusing and impervious to marital design as Harcourt Lancing. Sadly, his bow was made without irony, and his expression, as he led her onto the dancefloor was suggestive of a man steeling himself for action. For this, he might perhaps be forgiven, since Hester’s paeans of praise for her friend had led him to expect a personality he could not hope to match. As a result, the more she sparkled, the more he became taciturn.

“Forgive me,” she said, defeated at last, “You must find me the dullest company.”

“On the contrary, Miss Warren, it is I who is the dullard,” he replied, his honest face struggling between regret and cheer. “Such wit as I have pales before yours.”

Abashed, she fell silent. Here was a man whose duty to his ship and its crew must weigh so heavily upon him that he found her vivacity shallow.

“My wit was misplaced. I hope you will not dismiss me as entirely empty-headed.”

“Your loquacity…” He coloured. “Your eloquence, I should say, precludes it.”

Soon after, the dance ended and she released him with some regret, knowing that she had not acquitted herself as well as he deserved. For his part, Captain Grundy had no qualms. He judged Miss Warren to be pleasant enough, but inferior in every way to Miss Hardcastle, whom he knew to be Hester’s favourite amongst the set, and whose undeniable allure had caught his notice from the start.

Abigail for her part was predisposed to admire a man as organised as a naval captain must self-evidently be, and she rewarded his request for the pleasure of the next dance with a smile of unaffected delight, which captivated him entirely.

Indeed, so pleased were they in each other’s company that he engaged her for as many dances as she had free.