every bite was lead in my mouth.
The next day I did not seek him out, but nonetheless came upon William Buckland on the beach, for once without Mary. He greeted me heartily, but when I mentioned being disappointed that we had not seen him the day before, he looked surprised. 'Was I meant to dine with you, Miss Philpot? Are you sure? Because, you see, yesterday I heard a man had found part of a long sequence of vertebrae down at Seatown, and I had to go and see for myself. And do you know, I'm glad I did, for they are well preserved and yet quite different from Mary's creature's vertebrae. I am wondering if they might be from a different animal altogether.'
Unrepentant at his social error, he also did not sense that I was upset. To him it was perfectly normal that going to see a set of unusual vertebrae would take precedence over dining with ladies.
I said nothing but 'Good day, sir,' and turned away. It was then I understood that only a woman beautiful enough to distract him or patient enough to put up with him would manage to marry William Buckland.
I thought that was the end of my new regard for men. I had never imagined there would be a Colonel Birch.
The summer Colonel Birch arrived in Lyme, Mary was in a peculiar state, pulled this way and that. On the one hand, the creature she and Joseph had discovered had become quite famous. Charles Konig bought the original specimen from Bullock's and put it on display at the British Museum. He named it an ichthyosaurus, which means 'fish lizard', for its anatomy falls somewhere between the two. He and others studied it and published articles in which they speculated that the ichthyosaurus was a marine reptile, for it breathed in air like a mammal but swam like a fish. I read these papers, lent to me by William Buckland, with great curiosity, noting that none of them discussed the thorny questions of extinction or God's hand in the creature's disappearance. Indeed, they did not bring up religious issues at all. Perhaps they were copying Cuvier, who never mentioned God's intentions in his writings. It was a relief to me to accept the ichthyosaurus as what it was--an ancient marine reptile with its own name.
Mary found it harder, and often still called it a crocodile, as did most of the local residents, though eventually she settled on ichie. To her the new scientific name took her creature away from her even more effectively than its physical removal. Learned men were discussing it at meetings and writing about it, and Mary was excluded from their activity. She was relied upon to find the specimens, but not to take part in studying them.
And even that hunting was proving difficult--she had not found a complete ichthyosaurus in over a year, though she combed Church Cliffs and Black Ven every day.
One day I suggested we look for brittle stars and crinoids on the beach towards Seatown, several miles east of Charmouth. We did not usually go so far afield, but I thought a change of scene would do Mary good, and suggested Seatown to get her away from her endless tramping up and down the same beach in search of an elusive monster.
We chose a sunny day when the tides favoured an early start. She left behind Church Cliffs and Black Ven willingly enough, but at Gabriel's Ledge, just beyond Charmouth, she kept turning and looking behind us, as if the cliffs were calling her back. 'There was a flash back there,' she insisted. 'Didn't you see it?'
I shook my head and continued along the beach, hoping she would follow.
'There it is again,' Mary said. 'Oh, look, Miss Philpot, do you think he's coming for us?'
A man was striding up the beach. Although there were other people out, taking advantage of the mild weather and the glorious morning light, he cut through them as if he knew exactly what his goal was, and it was us. He was tall and erect, and wore the high boots and long red coat of a soldier. The uniform's brass buttons winked in the sun. I am not often moved by the sight of a man, but having this one make it his clear purpose to reach us was a thrill I will long remember.
He smiled as he approached. He was a striking figure of fifty or so, with the straight military bearing so pleasing in a man, trim and upright and confident. His face was weathered, his eyes slits against the sun and wind, but he was handsome with it.
When he removed his cocked hat and bowed, I could see the parting in his bushy black hair, which was threaded with grey.
'Ladies,' he announced, 'I have been searching all morning for you, and am delighted to have found you at last.' He put his hat back on, making the white plumes it was trimmed with waggle. His hair was so thick and wavy the hat was in danger of springing off.
I have never trusted a man who leads with his hair. Only a vain, overconfident man does that.
'I am Colonel Birch, late of the 1st Regiment of the Life Guards.' He paused, looking back and forth between us, then settled his attention on Mary. 'And you must be the remarkable Mary Anning who has found several ichthyosaurus specimens, is that right?'
Mary nodded, unable to stop staring at him.
Of course, anyone who knew of Mary would also know that she was young and of a low background, and there could be no mistaking me for her, with my twenty extra years etched onto my face and my finer clothes and bearing. Yet I felt the sharp dart of jealousy pierce me, that a handsome man was not striding along the beach for me.
It made me more prickly than I'd intended. 'I suppose you'll be wanting her to find you one, rather like
