“You have wasted your time, then,” Sir Charles said, grabbing the bottle and pouring clumsily. “Give me five minutes in Belleville’s village, and I will have the names and talents of every woman of the town. You can have the list when I am done.”
Lord Longtown laughed but said nothing. Everyone knew that, for his brusque manner, he was devoted to the well-meaning but not clever Lady Longtown. General Tilney added nothing to the coarse talk either, but to Philip he looked as though he had heard it all before. A career in the army made that likely.
After hearing Sir Charles boast of all the women he had had and Dryden’s talk of how soon could he engage in intimacy with his betrothed, Philip’s patience was at an end. Such talk often left him uncertain of what to say, and now it only reminded him of Eleanor. It certainly made sitting on the other side of the table from her short-tempered father uncomfortable.
He was waiting for a pause in the talk to beg his leave from Longtown when General Tilney said pointedly to Sir Charles, “True, every man has need of a woman, but eventually he ought to think on his need for a wife.”
Philip had been bracing his hands on the table to rise, and he dropped them to his sides and leant back into the seat.
“Someday,” Sir Charles said with a sly smile, “but the talents of the former suit me for the present, and for now I need not come home to anyone who will scold me for sleeping elsewhere or question whither I go.”
“You might not have to leave home for it if you had a wife,” Vaughan said.
Sir Charles only laughed.
“And an easy maid will not combine skill and address to preside over your table,” said the general, “or be hospitable to your political friends. A man in the position you aim for needs a lady with some knowledge, one who can have an unreserved and pleasing conversation with anyone you brought to Colborne Park.”
Philip watched Sir Charles’s expression sharpen. In that moment, Philip saw all the cunning and alertness of an ambitious man.
“I got sixty-eight promises while last canvassing for votes,” Sir Charles said, nodding, “and only one refusal. Some doubtful, but most not at home, with whom I left printed cards requesting their votes. But it is a trial to be engaging and pleasing to a variety of people to secure that vote.”
Philip could envision him wavering the multitudes with food and drink and bribes.
“A wife could return calls,” Sir Charles went on, slowly, “encourage the ladies to convince their husbands to vote for me, and entertain my supporters for me.”
“A wife would make you more likeable in the eyes of many voters,” General Tilney agreed.
“It might be worth it as long as she is young and handsome,” added Dryden. Philip wondered if he was thinking of Lady Harriet.
Sir Charles sat back in his seat and threw Dryden a disdainful look. “What is the point of marrying a heedless little thing who can hardly manage an account book? I can have the young and handsome who is tending to my fire or changing the sheets whenever I wish it.”
“A man wishing to enter public life might not want that habit universally known,” Philip said.
“Maybe not,” Dryden said with a smile, “but it might endear him to more men than you think.”
Before Philip could do more than feel revolting thoughts about the habits of both Sir Charles and Lord Dryden, General Tilney leant forward, resting an elbow on the table. “You might do well to find someone in a situation like Eleanor’s, a young lady who has presided over her father’s table and who could manage both Colborne and a house in town once you are elected,” General Tilney said. “I ought not to boast of my own child, but I have not had to concern myself in a single household affair for five years.”
Philip turned his scoff into a throat-clearing cough. Eleanor was a capable woman, he knew, but her father personally directed the proceedings of the housekeeper and the cook over Eleanor’s instructions. She was constantly overridden and, in Philip’s opinion, demeaned. General Tilney introduced himself into Eleanor’s every arrangement of Northanger’s daily economy, both petty and significant. Nothing she did ever met his exacting standards.
“I hardly know how to reply to your very obvious hint that I marry your daughter, General,” Sir Charles said.
“It is hardly an instruction. You are sensible enough to know that you need a wife to further your career, and what manner of lady would complement you. I would expect a man such as you to find out a lady’s character for yourself. You must not take my word for it,” he said, smiling.
Philip refrained from rolling his eyes. The general always wanted people to take him at his word and do exactly as he instructed.
“You have my leave to spend time with Eleanor to see if she is the sort of lady who would suit you,” the general went on. Sir Charles bowed his head. “Brampton?” Philip started and hoped very much that the general had not noticed. “What say you, Brampton? You are her second cousin and have known her since you were children. Could Eleanor be a suitable wife to help a man who wishes to enter public life, in fact help further his career?”
A weighted feeling settled over his chest. If he had the mettle to ever defy General Tilney, he would do it now, and say that Eleanor would not make Sir Charles a good wife because no matter her talents, Sir Charles could never deserve her or make her happy. But he had no right to speak into how the general managed his affairs. He could not confront a man like him—he lacked the courage. Besides, if Philip ever did, he would be cut from every circle the general moved in.
And having a home of her own away from her father is what Eleanor desperately wants.
“I suppose that someone with knowledge of current events and history,” Philip said slowly, tightening his fists in his lap, “someone self-possessed, who can have a conversation with anyone, would be an asset to a man determined to be elected to office. Miss Tilney is... poised, confident, and... and all of those things.”
He could not say that there was beauty in everything Eleanor said and did, that her personal graces would be a credit to any man with the sense to appreciate her. Philip stood quickly and stammered something about being ready for a cup of tea to clear his head.
He entered the drawing room in a dreadful mood. He took a teacup from Lady Longtown, and absently bore her repetitive chat about her friends in Kent, and did he think Vaughan would deliver a letter to a mutual acquaintance for her. All the while Philip watched where Eleanor and Lady Alice were in conference, with Eleanor nodding along, looking nervous.
The other men soon came in, with Vaughan briefly clapping him on the shoulder in sympathy as he passed him by. Lady Alice left Eleanor and came up to him and said quietly, “We are going to play some games to allow the ladies to mix a little more with the men.”
