When Laurence got back from Scarborough, he received a letter from Christopher Bennett informing him that his ship would be landing at Portsmouth within days. Thomas Andrews’s vessel was undergoing repairs and Daniel Miles was visiting his family in Dover. They would pick him up along the way and would be in London within the week. It had been three long years since they were last together and he missed their companionship.
Laurence decided to tell them about Jasmine and her family. If she had been an only daughter, he would not have been so forthcoming. He loved his friends dearly, but competition was like opening Pandora’s Box, especially where Jasmine was concerned. Contact with three naval officers could prove risky especially with her maritime taste. He was uncertain about her affections and had detected nothing other than a fondness natural in friendship. After a short struggle, his generous nature proved stronger than his covetousness.
His friend surprised him by their early arrival and greeted him with hearty handshakes and slaps on the back. As if on signal and without a word, they headed toward the billiard room as if they had been doing it every day for years. They teamed up making their usual bets and played without much conversation. As usual, Laurence and Bennett won.
After the game, they went downstairs to the parlor and settled down in comfortable chairs with cigars and sherry. Each man took his turn sharing about his life during the absence. Laughter and snide remarks interrupted each narrative. Laurence waited until the end. They had served the main course, now he would bring in the dessert.
“Remember when we last met, we said that if we made our fortunes, we would look to settle down by the sea?” Laurence said.
They nodded.
“Well, about two months ago, I traveled to the southern shores and decided to stop in Lyme Regis.”
“Why there?” asked Bennett.
“I don’t know why. I did it on a whim.”
“We know by experience that strange encounters seem to follow you when you act on a whim,” said Andrews grinning.
Laurence laughed outright. “I am shooting true to form then, because I did have an encounter. It was probably the strangest one in my life.”
He paused for effect and saw Daniel’s face growing red with impatience. “Tell us now or we’ll roast your liver for supper!” he said frustratingly.
Laurence chuckled as he received his reward. “I recall it was a beautiful spring day. As I walked to the end of a bluff, guess what I saw?” he asked mysteriously.
“A woman!” Miles shouted.
“No! I saw a piece of paper floating on the wind, so I grabbed it. Guess what it said?” he continued.
“No trespassing!” volunteered Andrews.
“No. It was a story about a sea captain written in a woman’s hand.”
It grew quiet. There were no further interruptions. They leaned forward in their chairs with their cigars and drinks suspended. He gave the gist of what Jasmine had written, nearly quoting it perfectly.
“I assumed only a sea captain’s wife or daughter could have done it, but I was wrong. A vicar’s daughter had written it. I looked over the bluff and beheld the most beautiful woman I’d ever set eyes on.”
“Did she see you?” interrupted Miles.
“No, she was sleeping. I studied her a long time,” he said with a sigh.
Laurence proceeded to tell them everything about that first encounter without omitting the smallest detail of her appearance or actions. They listened like enchanted men while the ashes from their cigars fell unheeded on the carpet. Laurence halted the story at the door of the vicarage. “We’ve almost passed tea time, care for a break?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.
He baited the hook knowing Miles would bite for it. “Hang the tea! Get on with the story!”
Laurence grinned wickedly and proceeded with his narrative, pausing just before mentioning Jasmine’s three sisters. He had not included that vital piece of information when retelling the innkeeper’s speech. “Remember the last ball we attended a few years back?” he asked.
“You mean during the peace?” asked Miles.
“Yes. I know it is difficult to remember which one. They all seem to blend…” said Laurence.
“Into a patchwork of horrible feminine society,” finished Andrews for him.
Laurence chuckled.
“Yet you endured it with stamina,” supplied Bennett.
“I would have never forced myself to attend if you had not dragged me,” Laurence replied wearily to him. “Like a doctor, you kept insisting that it would be good for me.”
“But you didn’t obey your physician’s advice and take your medicine. You still abhor women.” Andrews summarized.
Laurence did not reply and gave them a half-smile. “Now, getting back on course, remember that last dance?”
They all nodded.
“I recall one lady was particularly stunning. You sighed when you found out she was married. Your phrase was, ‘I wonder if she has any sisters?’” Laurence said to Andrews.
“Or in desperation even a cousin would do,” added Miles.
Laurence took a deep breath for effect and they looked at him with unblinking eyes.
“Well…Miss Bertram has three lovely sisters,” he finished triumphantly.
The men opened their mouths and stared at Laurence stupidly. They found it hard to process the information. If they had leaned further in their chairs, they would have fallen to the floor. Laurence was in pure delight and ended their suspense by describing each one. “Of course, nothing I can tell you will do any of them justice. You will have to see them in order to understand what I’m saying.”
“You mean to tell us that you were in the company of four women and you did not encounter any suffocation?” Andrews asked pointedly.
“I had troubles with my breathing but not for the reason you suppose,” Laurence replied sardonically.
“When do we get to meet them?” said Miles eagerly.
“I doubt I can be done before two months. I still have a lot of business to attend to,” Laurence added.
“Such as?” Bennett prompted.
“The builders have only started making renovations to the house. Each room has to be painted and refurnished. It is completely uninhabitable at the moment.”
“Can’t you live at an inn and make any changes from there?” asked Andrews.
“Impossible. I’ve already thought of that. London has the variety and quality of items I need to purchase. I can’t waste my time going back and forth.” he explained.
“Then what can we do to help you get things done faster?” Bennett asked seriously.
Men of the navy never waste time: they make the most of every opportunity because they never know when they will get another chance. Laurence looked at them soberly understanding their urgency--he put aside the joking and baiting.
“Let’s plan the business details tomorrow. Four of us of working together should get things done quickly. Let us save tonight for us. There’s still plenty more of this story if you want to hear it.”
They nodded eagerly in response.
A few hours later, while they were eating supper, Laurence finished the narrative. He did not know his friends saw more than he intended. They watched his face soften and observed his involuntary smile. They saw a look in his eyes they had never seen before; this and more played out on his features. His face was a map they could easily read. They concluded in their hearts that Laurence had been sunk like a mighty battleship--he was in love with Miss Bertram! Laurence was a notorious woman-hater. None of them thought he would be the first one to go. Something had to be different about her. He would not fall for just any woman; they would, but not Laurence. They were anxious to meet her.
“It seems she has already contradicted your favorite axiom. I think your most cherished being, ‘There are no women as exciting as life at sea,’” Andrews mimicked Laurence.
“That had an early death; I think it lasted only a few short hours.”
“So, Miss Bertram has inadvertently sent your preconceived ideas to the grave?” probed Bennett.
Laurence’s face revealed his chagrin. “Yes, it’s such a smug, pompous way of thinking. I admit it. I was almost daring the Almighty to prove me wrong and secretly wanted to be so. Now He has shown me up and I am still reeling from her effect on me.”
“Do you think she’s the one who can beach you?” asked Miles.
Laurence made no immediate reply; his thoughts were far away. “There’s not a boring bone in her body. I have never been so fascinated in my life! From the first moment I saw her, she broke all the rules. I can’t compare her to anyone I’ve ever known.”
“Did she really chase Mr. Dilbert with bow and arrow?” asked Bennett smiling.
Laurence nodded affirmatively.
“Do her sisters share her ability?” teased Andrews.
“I am not privy to such information, but I know their father is a marksman. Such an accomplishment is vital for a father of four lovely daughters. I would caution you, therefore, to handle these women carefully,” Laurence said dryly.
“I will do my utmost to be on good terms with them. I would hate to see an arrow directed my way,” Miles said with mock fear.
“From what you have told us, they seem like a wonderful family. You have found something priceless, Michael. You did not have to tell us,” said Bennett wistfully.
Laurence understood his heart; Christopher’s life was much as his own had been, for he lost his mother at the age of nine. They had been the only children in their families and spent lonely childhoods. Both of their fathers were sea captains. Bennett’s stepmother treated him harshly upon his father’s death and he ran away to sea at sixteen, serving on the Sky Hawk two years before Laurence came aboard. Quickly, they became friends.
Andrews joined the crew a year later and although he was closer in age to Laurence and Bennett, being eighteen at the time, he bonded more with Miles in character and disposition.
After supper, Miles and Andrews played billiards, while Bennett and Laurence went into the study to talk. The dynamic of their relationship would adapt when the other two were around; Laurence and Bennett were often serious about matters, while Andrews and Miles lightened things up. Now Laurence could express everything he wanted to say about his feelings for Jasmine. Bennett was a good listener. He pent up everything but the floodgates were now open.
“When I’m in her presence sometimes I can hardly breathe. Have you ever felt that way before?” he turned to Bennett.
His friend shook his head. “I don’t recall being in love, nor even close to it.”
“It’s the strangest thing I’ve ever known. I am free and yet a captive at the same time. I still don’t understand it.”
Bennett looked at him sympathetically.
“You know me, Chris I’ve never been a romantic. I have mocked the poets…all the rubbish of love at first sight, yet that is what happened to me. I loved her from the beginning. I felt as if she were mine already. Am I insane?”
“I don’t understand what you are going through but I don’t think you’re mad,” said Bennett reassuringly.
“I can’t stop thinking about her! I love the wild things she does: like never keeping a bonnet on her head, or shoes on her feet.”
Bennett chuckled.
“You know what drives me to distraction? She ran from me. She did not want anything to do with me. I felt an excitement in pursuing her. She truly hates men! If she cannot outrun them, then she is lobbing arrows at them. She’s a fighter--I love that about her.”
“You may be attracted to a trait that carries its own danger.”
“I’ll risk it. She is worth it. She is untamable. Even if I find a way to win her, she will never be docile.”
“Isn’t that what you’ve been searching in vain for? I think she’s perfect for you.”
Laurence sighed, laid his head back on his chair, and closed his eyes. “Yes, she is perfect, at least for me.”
Bennett noticed his sighing and pining. “It seems like you have the symptoms of love. Do you eat and sleep well?”
“I sleep like a baby and eat like a horse. I do not think you can use that as a marker. I am not lovesick. I have never felt better in my life. I feel whole.”
Maybe he is not in love, thought Bennett.
“I respect her--I like her. I delight in the kind of person she is.” Laurence paused, shocked he was saying a thing he thought impossible before. He went on: “I have never looked beyond a woman’s face or her appearance before, but I’ve seen into Jasmine’s soul. I am in love with everything about her. It is not only because she is beautiful. There is something eternal in her I cannot grasp, but it has captured me.”
Bennett looked at Laurence, in wonder, knowing his friend was speaking the truth. Could such a thing happen to him? Laurence had made lieutenant and captain before them--would he now be leading the way in love?
The next morning his friends found Laurence already at the breakfast table. He wore a white linen shirt that hung over his pants. His locks were free from the queue and his long legs, stretched out on a chair, added to his unceremonious appearance. He looked up from his paper as his friends sat down. They were ready to start their day in London. Laurence scanned them thoroughly with a smirk on his face.
“A fine bunch of dandies, you are!” he growled affectionately.
“Actually, we never turn the ladies’ heads…you do,” said Andrews ready for a fight.
Laurence knitted his brow in displeasure. “Look at me! You can hardly say I am a woman’s image of a shining knight.”
Andrews completely ignored his comment as he turned to the others. “Have you never observed that strange quality in women where they prefer the roguish look in men? It seems to bring out the mothering nature in them and he becomes a project for their civilizing influences. Even with our meticulous grooming, women completely ignore us. Laurence could walk about town just as he is and ladies would be tripping over themselves to get near him. It is most unfair!”
Laurence banged the table with his fist as his scowl deepened. “Let’s change this stupid subject!” he commanded.
Andrews was savoring the moment. They all were; they had been the brunt of his teasing countless times. They could never outwit him for he was too quick. Here was his spot of vulnerability--Laurence always went for the bait on this subject and they reeled him in.
“Since we’re not aboard ship and are all of equal rank, except Miles here, we do not have to obey any command you care to give,” replied Andrews dryly.
“Are we going to eat a pleasant breakfast, or are you going to give me heartburn?” said Laurence using a different tactic.
Andrews was not ready to concede a truce. “Why should talking about women give you heartburn?” he asked with mock innocence.
“Would you feel better if we only mentioned one woman…a Miss Bertram?” said Miles with equal wide-eyed sweetness.
Laurence smiled to himself; he knew where they were heading. Deciding to get ready for their outing, he could not resist one parting shot. “I’ve been in the company of some fine ladies recently. I do not have women on my brain like you--a malady of being too long at sea, I fear.”
Hearty laughter trailed after him as he ran up the stairs.
Six days into the week, their busy schedule brought a respite. Since it was such a fine day, they agreed to meet at their favorite inn, eating outside and watching the activity on the streets. The men would have denied it, if confronted, but it was a very French thing to do.
Miles shared with them the way he and another lieutenant had of rating women. Every woman rated at least a one and the pretty ones were a six or seven. Only the most beautiful scored an eight or nine. No one had rated a ten--that was reserved for someone special. If, or when, that ever happened, the man was to lift up both hands with ten fingers spread and surrender. It was a crude, rude, boorish and boyish method, so they put it into practice immediately.
Women were everywhere in groups or with chaperons. It was hunting season on the streets of London, but who was catching whom? No matter how sharp the eye, one could not tell which gender had the upper hand, since peacock and hen were equally on exhibit.
Laurence was discrete with the display of his fingers and showed them next to his plate. Miles, who had no such delicacy, kept popping his in the air. The first few times he did it, the waiter came to the table thinking he was about to order something. Laurence was more severe in his judgment; no one rated more than a five with him. His friends were liberal. Laurence guessed rightly--they had been at sea too long. Jasmine and her sisters would give them discriminating taste.
Laurence’s friends guessed rightly too, for women were turning their heads to look at him. This had been a part of his life since he was eighteen. When he was younger, and more mischievous, he used to do all manner of things to shock them: such as putting his feet up on a table, or yawning loudly in their presence. As he grew older, he simply ignored them. Jasmine was his kindred spirit--she was as plagued as he was. He must gain wisdom by her methods. Where was a set of bow and arrows when he needed them? he chuckled to himself.
After their meal, they went into a china shop. Laurence was slowly metamorphosing, not realizing his viewpoint on women was softening. He responded in a courtly way to a young woman at the counter, who helped him decide on a tasteful pattern. When he was done with the purchase, he smiled brilliantly and winked at her as he went out the door. His friends, who were still in the shop, saw her drop a cup and saucer. Bennett tipped his hat and paid for it. What an unforgettable moment! Laurence, in all his innocent fondness, did not know what he was doing. Loving one woman made him free, for the first time, to express his appreciation for the whole sex.
The next time the men sat down in public to play the game, Laurence did not join them. They looked at him with quizzical faces. Where was that devil-may-care attitude? Tilting his chair up on two legs, he leaned it against the tavern wall and looked up into the sky with a dreamy expression in his eyes.
“All women rate a ten with me…God bless them! They are such wonderful, excellent creatures,” he finished with a sigh.
“I knew it,” whispered Andrews to Miles, “he is bedeviled.”
“This cannot be Laurence speaking, he has never used those words to describe women before,” observed Miles.
Laurence put his chair back down and rested his chin on his hand. He traced Jasmine’s name on his empty bread plate in an absentminded way. Bennett was the only one who noticed what he was spelling; the other two were busy looking at the women. Bennett also observed he had not eaten much food--the signs were not looking favorable.
It was a warm day and Laurence took his coat and cravat off. He opened his top shirt button to breathe more easily. This was a breach of decorum even in progressive London. Gentlemen never appeared in casual mode unless they were in private dwellings. Laurence never cared much for codes, but he had never broken this one before. His friends observed what he had done and looked at each other with questioning glances.
They were not the only ones who noticed. One young girl, not more than eighteen, missed a step up the street and almost fell. Laurence was oblivious to the chaos he was causing. He was daydreaming about Jasmine. His friends only chuckled.
“Maybe we should change the rating game to the affect Laurence is having on women. We should use one hand instead, five fingers going to anyone who actually gets hurt looking at him,” Andrews said softly to the other two.
Laurence, lost in his thoughts, had not heard a thing. He did not know he was a participant in this new game. The men switched effortlessly from one to the other. The game did not stop until they reached his house because, as they were walking home, they saw his effect on the opposite sex.
Toward the end of the week, Laurence had to make a quick three day journey to Lyme and though his friends begged him to attend, Laurence was adamant. They stood around him forlornly as the coachman loaded his trunk.
“I doubt I shall have any time to visit the Bertram family. This will strictly be a business trip.”
“Maybe you could use our assistance while there?” suggested Miles.
“Thank you for your consideration, Daniel. I know you have no other motive than for my welfare, but I can easily settle this on my own.”
“And what, may I ask, are we to do while you are away?” asked Andrews frustratingly.
“Play billiards until you are dizzy, for all I care. Just keep your hands off my brandy until I return,” Laurence grinned at them as he stepped into the coach.
No matter how the men suffered in his absence, three days later Laurence did return, and sadly, the men’s temperaments had not improved. They greeted him with long faces. Laurence would not answer any of their questions however, until he had bathed and refreshed himself with something to drink.
He sat down in his favorite chair with a sigh and smelled the sweet bouquet of his brandy. His butler lit his cigar. Now he was favorable to talk.
“What is the matter? Are you in no mood for a smoke and libations?” asked Laurence of them magnanimously.
His friends grudgingly sat down and after another gentle nudge from Laurence, accepted the bandy and cigar from the butler’s tray. Laurence did not speak right away and watched his friends as the pleasures began to take affect and they started to unwind.
Miles nodded to the butler for another glass of brandy but Laurence intercepted it with a shake of his head. “That’s enough. Your cheeks always give you away when you’ve had your limit. They are as red as a tomato.” That quick comment by Laurence only added to his color.
“How did you find your journey? Was it tolerable?” Andrews began the interrogation.
“I got everything that I wanted and more,” Laurence said with satisfaction.
“Such as?” Miles asked irritatingly.
“I stuck a deal with the landholder and increased my property by forty percent.”
“Is that all that happened?” Bennett further inquired.
Laurence smiled, “Ah, you all want to know if I encountered Miss Bertram again.”
“Did you?” Miles prodded.
He nodded. “Alas, it was only for an hour sitting in her parlor having tea, but a pauper must take what he can get.”
“We could have shared that hour with you,” remarked Andrews.
“I fear the overcrowding of that many men would have had a detrimental affect on Miss Bertram. It has taken her some time to adjust to me.”
“Are we never to see them, then?” whined Miles.
“Again, that depends on how quickly everything can get done.”
“What are we sitting here for? Let’s hop to it!” said Andrews enthusiastically as he got up for his chair.
There was plenty for each man to do during the next six weeks. Laurence needed the distraction to keep his mind off Jasmine. They worked at a rapid pace finishing everything before the end of the month. He could not have done it without them. Meeting the Bertram family was the greatest gift Laurence could offer them; he was sharing his treasure.
He sent off letters to Rev. Bertram, his steward, and housekeeper. His friends could see his increasing joy as the day drew near for their departure.
Rev. Bertram shared the content of Captain Laurence’s letter at dinner with the family and informed them of his coming from London with friends within the week. A formal party on the evening of his arrival caused great excitement.
Jasmine’s emotions took longer to settle than her sisters. She strolled down the garden path leading to the pond, but the peaceful surrounding could not calm her turbulent feelings. She sat on the bench, for only a moment, but got up again and walked down another trail in a distracted manner.
She was thrilled at the prospect of seeing Laurence again. She had loved every moment of that magical week…well almost, she thought to herself, as she tried to blot out his teasing. It had been a long, hard three months. She had made a pact of friendship with a man, and then he was gone. He came into her life suddenly and left just as quickly. He remained an enigma.
Mrs. Bertram watched her daughter walk the same garden path four times in a circle. Her pace was uneven; she was not doing it for exercise. She understood what was happening--she had displayed the same symptoms for her husband.
Jasmine counted every day as if she were in prison awaiting release. She wondered about many things. Her thoughts jumped all over the place, having neither sense nor logic. That fact alone was evidence enough she was falling in love. She was a writer, and until now, had processed everything in an orderly fashion.
Had the months of separation altered him in any way? He had never spoken of his friends before. Were they captains like him? How many would he be bringing? Would they be like him? Was there anyone like him?
She sighed without realizing. Her mother noticed--Jasmine was sighing a lot these days.
