The next morning, Laurence and his friends left to purchase sabers. Jasmine found out that the weapons had nothing to do with the duel, but were to be an addition to his collection. She smiled ruefully at her drama of the previous week and cautioned herself concerning her overactive imagination. She did not want fainting to put her in the same category as Mr. Dilbert.
Her sisters were in search of bonnets and Jasmine went along out of boredom. Observing people along the way might prove profitable; she could get new ideas for her stories. When they turned off Queen Square, she saw Laurence and his friends coming down the opposite side of Gay St. some distance away. Her sisters did not see them and went into a shop instead. Jasmine thought it would be a good moment to watch them unobserved.
She saw two women walking toward Laurence who happened to be a few paces behind the other men. When one of the ladies dropped her handkerchief right in front of him, Jasmine rolled her eyes at the overdone manipulation. Women really did need to come up with a new idea, she thought. If Laurence had only handed it to her, it would have been fine, but the woman began speaking to him and out of politeness, he paused to introduce his friends. Jasmine had seen enough and crossed over to his side of the street. She came up to them without any introductions.
“Excuse me,” she said abruptly. The young woman had been in mid-sentence when Jasmine interrupted her. “I have to speak to Captain Laurence,” she said grabbing his hand.
Jasmine left two stunned young ladies in her wake. Bennett, Andrews and Miles grinned like schoolboys. This was satire à la mode. They never expected to see Laurence willingly led away by any woman. Only Jasmine would have the audacity to do such a thing. If she was there, then maybe her sisters were nearby. They excused themselves from the young women in search of others who claimed their affections.
Jasmine had made a definite breach in decorum, but she did not care. Neither did Laurence. As far as he was concerned, she could lead him away any time she had the urge. His masculinity was not suffering in the slightest. He had not known she was anywhere in the area. He thought of implementing a plan where he could bump into ‘unsuspecting’ women just to get a response from her. Every dark cloud had a silver lining: these annoying women were paying off! Hoping this would become a regular occurrence, Bath now scored second after Lyme Regis as his favorite place. He was enjoying himself immensely. They were attracting attention like a new circus in town. It was a strange thing anywhere to see a woman leading a man by the hand.
“Miss Bertram, I am shocked at your want of decorum! What will people say? There goes the mad vicar’s daughter who grabs men’s hands? Consider my delicacy; I have been locked away in a world of masculinity and I’m not accustomed to such rough treatment from women. What den of iniquity are you leading me into?”
He loved baiting her and could always count on her to bite. Jasmine let go of his hand and turned to face him with her hands on her hips. She looked as if she wanted to give him a spanking; the picture enhanced his mirth. He was almost a foot taller than she was and more than twice her size. Her anger turned her cheeks rosy and enchanted him more.
“I don’t care what people think of me! This will only add fodder to their gossip, so let the biddies talk! I broke the rules because I saw the game that woman was playing. Don’t tell me you fell for her dropping her handkerchief!”
“Are you trying to protect my virtue from wanton women?” his eyes sparkled with delight.
“Do you have any ‘virtue’ to protect, Mr. Pirate?” she countered.
Laurence threw back his head and laughed jubilantly. She was more fun to spar with than his friends were. He knew what to expect from them; her replies always took him by surprise. What was any woman compared to her?
“Little one, that is something you will never know.” He thought it wise to keep her guessing. He would not satisfy every curiosity she had.
Jasmine, however, showed no interest in his diversionary reply. “Whoever that woman was she had no originality.”
“How would you have been original?”
Jasmine paused for a moment and brightened when an idea came to her. Laurence thought she would mention what she would do, but Jasmine thought actions would go much further than words. Walking across the street, she tripped on the curb, leaving her shoe behind. A moment later, a young man bent down to retrieve it, took off his hat, and introduced himself. Jasmine smiled sweetly as he placed the shoe in front of her, and held out her hand for his assistance. He spoke to her for a few moments, gave her his card, bowed, and left. She turned her head and looked directly at Laurence, who had been watching the whole thing in frustration mingled with jealousy. She walked back to where he was and handed him the card: “Lord Anthony Tenny” a prominent London address marked his residence.
By this time, Bennett, Andrews, and Miles had found Jasmine’s sisters and were only a few paces from them. They had witnessed the whole thing. Andrews grabbed the card before Laurence could tear it up and whistled as he showed it to the others.
“Ah, the eldest son of the earl of Sussex! He is the ‘catch of the season,’ as my sister would say, being the richest and most eligible bachelor in London.”
“It’s a good thing I’m not trying then. Even if I were, I could catch any fish in the sea,” Jasmine replied looking expressively at Laurence. She then took the card from Andrews and tore it up. “What do you think of my method? Was I obvious? Did I show more creativity than that woman?”
Laurence did not reply, but left his friends and Jasmine’s sisters without a good-bye. He held Jasmine’s hand tightly and began walking very quickly to a coach. He was breaking his own rules of etiquette. He was not going to let anyone get close to her now. It had been a warning. He should have realized that Jasmine would not react like other women. She was original in every way and had made the whole occurrence on the street look authentic. What woman would use clumsiness as bait for a trap? Her power to attract men was the kind of gunpowder he did not want to ignite even in an innocent way. She had proven her point; he heard the message loud and clear.
Jasmine breathlessly got into the coach and Laurence glanced at her uncertainly. She had won her match in triumph, her coup de maître. If he was stung, she did not want to rub salt in it. She was more concerned about the woman.
“Who was the lady that waylaid you?”
“She introduced herself as Miss White. I’ve forgotten the name of the woman who was with her,” he said distractedly.
“Was she pretty? I was at such a distance I could not tell. When I came up to you, I didn’t bother looking at her.”
“I suppose you could say she was pretty--I don’t really care.”
“How can a man not care if a woman is pretty or not?”
“The same way you don’t care if a man is handsome or not!” he said curtly. “You didn’t seem caught up with Lord Tenny. I assume if he had made you swoon you would not have torn up his card. You gave him quite a smile. It’s a wonder he had wits enough to introduce himself.”
“You didn’t answer my question about the method.”
“Oh, you’re creative all right! I concede the point. I would have been completely taken in, and I do not fool easily when it comes to your gender. You could be a very dangerous woman, if you tried, Jasmine.”
He meant it to be a warning, but it sounded like an insult to her. It was obvious Laurence was ill humored. She was not in the best of moods herself. She decided not to pursue the subject any further and they went home for the first time in uncomfortable silence.
Laurence was not in high spirits. He had no desire to attend the dance at the Assembly Ball Room that evening but, as Jasmine was going, he would not remain at the house. She wore her pink gown, which did not improve his temperament. She was exquisite. It brought back all the memories he had when he last saw her wearing it. He sighed for the weariness of it all. He did not want to spend his time fending off suitors. He would do his utmost to commandeer her dances, or at least, hand her off to Bennett if he got tired.
He escorted her into the Grand Room and struggled with jealousy when he saw many men looking at her. She seemed distant and he felt she danced with him out of obligation. After two numbers with her, he let Bennett take over. Deciding to watch the field, he scouted for trouble. He glanced about the room and saw Miss White, but had no interest in asking her to dance even though she looked his way with an inviting smile. From the corner of his eye, he saw Lord Tenny approach Bennett and Jasmine after their dance, and disliked him immediately. He was not pompous in manner or style, but seemed too formal to suit his taste.
She accepted her new partner and Laurence noted with envy that most of the people in the room were looking at them. They danced very elegantly together. He noted that Lord Tenny did most of the talking while Jasmine smiled politely. Toward the end of the next set, she made eye contact with him appearing to say, “Help me.” He gladly accepted the call. At the close of the dance number, she introduced him to Lord Tenny.
The two men sized each other up. If Laurence had not been jealous, he would have observed Lord Tenny with a more critical eye. He had always been a man of sharp discernment, but his insecurity, and jealousy, as well as the uncertainty of Jasmine’s affections clouded his judgment. It was a bitter brew; he was not savoring the evening.
To any impartial observer, however, Captain Laurence was in appearance far above the earl’s son. Lord Tenny had a small build and slight stature. His shallow complexion, long slender face, and Roman nose exuded aristocracy.
Tension filled the air. Lord Tenny was not pleased with Captain Laurence. He felt inferior just standing next to a man of his height and could not look at him with any satisfaction. He felt his pride but took care not to show it. His family tree could rival anyone in Bath--who was this Captain Laurence compared to him? His inbred arrogance made him presumptuous. He concluded that Miss Bertram would prefer dancing with him again, and he was about to ask her, before she excused herself. He stood with envy and shock as Laurence led her off the floor.
“Please take me outside where I can breathe some fresh air,” she pleaded.
Laurence was happy to be alone with her and away from a roomful of men. He risked a question. So far, his record of inquiries only brought trouble when it came to her. “How did you like the earl’s son? Did he meet with your expectations?”
“He was the most boring conversationalist I’ve heard since Mr. Dilbert!” she admitted. “He only talked about his lineage and property. At least the curate talked about a blasted tree--which would have been welcomed.”
Laurence laughed at the reference; his good mood rebounded. Lord Tenny was no longer a threat. He found a bench enclosed in a bower. No one was out mingling with nature; people preferred their own kind. Honeysuckle perfumed the air. Jasmine sat in pensive mood, the moonlight glistened in her hair. He studied the flowers for a moment, broke off a sprig of honeysuckle, and handed it to her. She smiled at him, held it to her nose, and sighed. A sacred stillness enfolded them. She picked a blossom, turned it upside down, and twirled it with her fingers.
“When I was very young, I remember father telling me that flowers were the skirts of fairies. I imagined them dressed in different colors and textures dancing on lily pads in the pond. We would hunt for morning dew on cobwebs, because he told me fairies used them as tablecloths for their toadstools. He always fed my fancy.”
Laurence smiled at the picture. “There are worlds inside you, things that have not yet been written. I look forward to reading them one day.”
“The one thing the world doesn’t need is another story written by a wide-eyed dreamer.”
“On the contrary…the world is in desperate need of them. The authors I love best have taken me to places I have never been to before. I open the cover of a book and step into another world. You are a creator, Jasmine. Don’t ever look down on that.”
“I shall endeavor to do my best for the sake of your admiration. I shall burn all my sketches on the nature of manhood. There are things I have written on your gender that make ‘The Flight of Mr. Dilbert’ look tame by comparison.”
“How massive is this work? Is it exhaustive? Will it feed a bonfire? May I watch?” he teased.
“I think the blaze could warm you up on a cold night. It would serve a dual purpose then.”
“How did it aid you before possibly benefiting me?”
“It was a means of venting. If I didn’t have this, I don’t know what I would have done.”
“Or which suitor you would have killed. I thank God for ink and pen!”
“I have not added to the volume in quiet some time. Be at peace!”
“The lava has cooled and the volcano is now dormant?” he suggested.
Her smile tantalized him like the Mona Lisa. There was so much mystery behind it. Laurence had no idea of his healing effect on her life. He had much to do with assuaging her eruptions, but she did not disclose it to him.
His good mood turned to playfulness and Shakespeare. He sat down and patted his lap.
“Come, sit on me!” he grinned, taking lines from The Taming of the Shrew.
She did not miss a beat. “Asses are made to bear and so are you,” she said pointing the honeysuckle at his nose.
“Women are made to bear and so are you,” he responded.
“No such jade as you, if me you mean,” she retorted.
“Alas, good Kate: I will not know then thee; for knowing thee to be but young and light.”
“Too light for such a swain as you to catch and yet as heavy as my weight should be.”
“For I am he am born to tame you Kate: and bring you from a wild Kate to a Kate conformable, as other household Kates.”
“And have you thus ‘politically begun your reign?’ Are you going to ‘kill me with kindness?’” she chuckled.
One moment with him had driven out twenty minutes of the tepid Lord Tenny. How she infinitely preferred Laurence to any other man!
“I would no sooner tame you than I could the wind. I would no sooner master you than I could the waves. Any man foolish enough to try would be defeated before he has begun,” he said soberly.
Laurence was more changeful than the sea himself; switching from playful to serious in a moment’s time. He fascinated her. Since she did not want to pursue herself as his only subject, she went back to Shakespeare.
“Where did you study all this goodly speech?”
“It is extempore, from my mother’s wit,” he caught on.
“A witty mother! Witless else her son.”
They broke into laughter.
“So you do not practice your witty and excessive statements as a gentleman whom we both know does,” Jasmine said referring to Mr. Dilbert.
“Alas, in this case, my lady, practice does not always make perfect. But let us say that when I am with you, I must have the full strength of my natural wits about me.”
“Touché!” she said gallantly.
They went back to the dance as refreshed by the surroundings as with each other’s company.
The next morning everyone met for breakfast a little more subdued. This would be their last day together. The admiral and his wife were leaving early for London the next morning. The Bertram family would be making for Lyme at the same time. Laurence and his friends decided to depart for London with the admiral.
Jasmine’s emotions were going through their morning exercises. “You’ve only just come from London three weeks ago! Must you depart again so quickly?”
“I know,” he smiled sadly. “It seems insane to leave just now, but we have urgent business to attend to.”
Jasmine had no idea how much it was costing him. He ached for her. He had talked with his friends the night before about a plan he knew would bring her pleasure. For her sake, he would suffer the pain of further separation.
The clouds hanging over the morning like a shroud, released its pent up promise. The rain poured down incessantly. Since there was no sight worth seeing nor activity worth doing that brought them more pleasure than to be in each other’s company, the whole group stayed home and had a leisurely day together. The married couples talked of meeting again in Bath the same time next year.
They culminated the evening around the piano singing all sorts of tunes together. Admiral Stowe, Laurence, Bennett, and Andrews sang rousing seafaring songs. Some of them were so comical and nonsensical that it kept the laughter going long into the night. Jasmine and her sisters sang ballads and hymns while Rev. Bertram and his wife graced the evening with a duet. They sang exceptionally well together. He loved singing with her and never made sport of it.
Mrs. Stowe felt uncomfortable singing and did not participate. Her voice had always been weak and affected. She was a wonderful listener, however, and gave each performer a rousing ovation.
Due to his tone deafness, Miles had mercy on them all by not joining in. For Daisy’s sake especially, silence on his part, was golden.
The next morning the house seemed empty to the servants--all the songbirds had fled.
