“Philip, I have enough trials without you hating me for this.”
If only he could tell her that he felt this way not because he hated her, but because he loved her more than anyone else on earth. “You know I don’t hate you. I want you to be happy, even if it means seeing you wed to someone else.”
ChapterThree
After the encounter in the kitchen garden with Philip, Eleanor went to her own apartment expecting to indulge in a long cry. She was weary and heartbroken, and Philip had known that she needed to be alone. It had been years since she burst into tears when she thought of her situation and her hopelessness, about her father’s constant harshness, and her pining for a man she could never have. But she found that when she was by herself, she had already spent all of her tears in front of Philip.
I think my feelings are too oppressed now even for tears.
A feeling of tenderness had pierced her when she first saw Philip in the drawing room, and for a moment she had reconsidered her entire plan. But General Tilney’s ill temper, his tyranny, his unkindness to Henry, it all reminded her of why she had to secure her independence from Northanger, even though it would cost her Philip, cost her his affection and possibly his respect. The knowledge that she was hurting him, that she was slicing his heart, made it all the harder.
It was better for Philip to learn of her intentions now, in person, rather than have him learn of it when she signed her name Lady Dryden. But how much harder it would be to carry this out in front of him. For a while, after what happened in January, she had a few fanciful imaginings of what it would be like to be Mrs Brampton, to live a retired yet happy life in Philip’s cosy house near to Belleville Hall, to be free to make the choice she wished.
A desponding turn of mind would not help, and if she was to free herself from her father, she must lay the ground now and try to attach herself to Lord Dryden. She remembered him as an agreeable young man, but could recall nothing specific about him. When she was secure of him, she supposed there would be leisure enough for learning his tastes and his interests.
Does it matter what he is like? Nothing is in question but the desire of being well married enough to satisfy my father.
Eleanor took particular care of her appearance so she would look her best when she met Lord Dryden. Before going downstairs, she looked into the glass; all traces of her previous tears were gone.
“Your plan is a good one,” she whispered to herself, willing it to be true.
In the drawing room, she scarcely had time to curtsey to Lord Dryden and be introduced to Sir Charles Sudbury before her father noisily pulled out his watch. “Eleanor, if you are going to keep Lord Longtown’s dinner waiting, you might have at least made enough alterations to your dress to have made it worth inconveniencing the entire party.”
She wanted to say “The hour has only just struck,” but there was no point in making an uncomfortable situation worse.
Lady Longtown hurriedly pulled the bell, and they moved through to the dining-parlour. Philip gave her a commiserating look, but everyone else fell silent and avoided her eye. General Tilney seemed unaware that he had subdued everyone’s spirits. Philip looked mortified on her behalf, but, truly, it was hardly the unkindest thing her father had ever said to her in front of others. Still, as she sat herself near to Lord Dryden, Eleanor did wish her father would drop the subject.
“Early rising and a proper disposing of time are essential to a person of character,” he was saying to the men, “and unfortunately there is an aversion to punctuality in too many young people.”
Eleanor calmly took a bite of food, avoiding looking at anyone. No one who spent five minutes in Northanger could honestly say she was not regular and punctual.
Lord Dryden said, when it was clear that General Tilney expected some manner of agreement, “Yes, no one admires a procrastinating spirit. Brampton, Vaughan says you have been doing calculations for a balloon ascent?”
Although she could not claim his attention, Eleanor was glad to see Lord Dryden be pleasant. He was hale and hearty like the marquess, but not so brusque. He did not appear to be a man of substance—he expressed no unique opinion or great insight—but he was attentive to the conversation.
What mattered was that her father would approve of her eventually becoming a marchioness. Lord Dryden was not the man she had envisioned for her future life—Eleanor pointedly did not look at Philip—but he might be an agreeable husband.
He is a more cheerful dining companion than Sir Charles Sudbury.
Eleanor looked across the table in distaste at Lord Dryden’s friend. Sir Charles was about the same age as Dryden and Vaughan—a little older than Philip, perhaps thirty. There had been talk around the table about him canvassing for the election, and his confidence was alarmingly close to arrogance. Sir Charles had a handsome face, with his dark eyes and noble mien, but there was something in the way he argued pettily with Lord Dryden about the distance from Colborne Park to Welland, how he boasted about improving his home, and the way he talked over Alice that she could not like.
“Sir Charles, did you happen to bring Repton’s proposed designs with you?” General Tilney asked with interest.
Eleanor watched him shovel his quail into his mouth before answering. “I did,” he barked. “He presented the whole of it bound in a large red book.”
“I have long thought of improving the grounds at Northanger,” said the general. “I have hisSketches and Hints on Landscape Gardening. Would you allow me to see his designs for Colborne?”
Sir Charles scooped another bite of quail before agreeing. “I consider myself an arbiter of taste,” he added through his food, “and Repton did well. I even implemented most of his suggestions.”
How generous of him to take the advice of the expert he hired.Eleanor thought it all well and good for her father to like this baronet. Perhaps he would be occupied over the rest of their visit with Sir Charles Sudbury while she encouraged the attentions of Lord Dryden.
After the meal, Lady Longtown looked ready to stand, but before she could, Lord Dryden called her attention, “A moment, Mamma.” He looked round the table at everyone. “Before we separate, I have news. Before I came to Welland, I had just returned from Lord Brant’s.”
Eleanor noticed Alice’s curious expression darken while Lady Longtown’s eyes brightened with a hopeful look.
“I am pleased to say that Lady Harriet Burlington has agreed to make me the happiest of men.”
The family received this news with varying degrees of pleasure. Her Ladyship came round the table to embrace her son and asked repeatedly how did Lady Harriet look when he proposed and how soon could she call at Lord Brant’s to speak with her. Alice put on a face of patience and wished “Georgie” to be very happy, but it was clear to Eleanor that she did not think he would be with Lady Harriet. The marquess, not known to speak and to be terse when he did, went so far as to shake Lord Dryden’s hand and say that he was “very glad.”
