I must tell you about the colonel.
He sat beside me at dinner today. This is not, in itself, a strong proof of the strangeness of his nature, though I was extremely surprised to find that he had at last discovered my name. And, by the by, he left me in no doubt that he had discovered it, for he used it at every opportunity. But the style of his conversation was a great shock to me.
In short, the colonel has heard the account of my skill as a future-gazer, which Catherine has been spreading so assiduously. And it was about that that he wished to talk. Did I often foresee the future? he wanted to know. And had I known about my gift for long? And – most particularly – what did I see in his future?
And I wondered that such a sensible man and one so successful in his profession should attach so much importance to such nonsense. It is so very strange, is it not, that men can be very clever about some subjects and foolish about others? With women I believe it is different; we are either wholly sensible or wholly foolish.
Well, the colonel talked so through the soup and the fish, with a digression or two upon the different modes of fortune telling that have fallen within his observation in various parts of the world, and I began to hope that there would be no need for me to satisfy him with a fortune; but, just as the mutton was put upon the table, he began to press me for an answer.
‘A man of action like yourself will make his own fortune,’ I said, meaning to be very clever and to flatter him into dropping the subject. ‘You can have no use for future-gazing.’
But, unfortunately, that only took me deeper into the matter. He confessed that in his professional life he did indeed, as I so aptly put it, make his own fortune. No man more so. There he never had a doubt; had never yet had to ask for anyone’s advice and sincerely hoped he would never need to. G_ _! m’dear, he’d put a gun to his own head rather than ask for help. With men and weapons he always knew just what to do. But, he didn’t quite know why it should be. Never had understood it, don’t y’know; but in matters of the heart – and here he cast a rather fearful look across the table at the Misses Harris – he had not quite the same d_ _ _ _d certainty.
He was not, he confessed, always quite the thing in society. Didn’t know what to say to the ladies. Indeed, sometimes he felt it necessary to quite shut himself away. Like a hermit of old – don’t y’know.
And he talked on until I began to fear that all the hopes and accomplishments of the Misses Harris would come to nothing if I did not oblige him with a reassuring fortune.
So I have agreed that I will soon look into his palm to see what I may of his future – though I do not quite know when this will be achieved since the colonel is as anxious as I am that we have no audience for the performance and I do not know how we are to gain a tete-a-tete without arousing the jealousy of the Misses Harris. However, I am determined that when it does take place I shall use the opportunity to discover a little more about him. I most particularly wish to know why he has so recently broken his resolution against marriage – has something occurred in his private life to incline him towards matrimony – or perhaps to free him for an advantageous match?
For, you see, a very intriguing thought came to me when the colonel spoke of sometimes shutting himself away. Eliza, you write in your letter that Mr Blacklock might be Mr Lomax, and I have wondered whether he is Mr Montague. But could he not also be Colonel Walborough – or indeed Mr Harris, or Sir Edgar, or Tom? Gentlemen are so free to move about in the world; they are not fixed in one place as women are.
I have contrived to send a message to the bobbing maid by Jenny the housemaid, whose home, you will remember (if you have been paying my letters the very close attention which they deserve) is at Hopton Cresswell and who, I am glad to find, is due to take her monthly day off again very soon. I have asked whether it is possible to discover from Mrs Potter’s Kate what Mr Blacklock’s appearance may be.
Unfortunately, before I can hope to receive any reply to this enquiry, I must go to Lyme. It is all quite settled. We are to travel there tomorrow and spend the night at an inn in the town. It is, as Catherine says, to be a regular exploring party, comprising myself and Catherine and the Misses Harris, escorted by the colonel and Tom Lomax. Sir Edgar condescendingly hopes that a little excursion will cheer the ladies and take our minds off the unpleasantness of late events and regrets that his public duties prevent him from availing himself of the honour of accompanying us, etc etc. Her ladyship is not to be of the party; she is indisposed. (I very much fear that she has procured a replacement for the physic which I poured away.) Mrs Harris stays behind to bear her ladyship company, and Margaret remains here too – because she wishes that she had been the chosen companion and, no doubt, hopes to prove herself better suited to the office.
Catherine is quite wild to go. She is very certain that she will find Mr Montague at Lyme, upon which she plans to throw herself into his arms, declare that she cares not whether they have bread to eat or not, so long as they can be together, and so live out the rest of her days in blissful poverty.
Oh, Eliza, I wish I too could believe that it will all be so easily settled!
Chapter Fourteen
Lyme was as beautiful as everyone had promised, and, afterwards, Dido very much regretted that she had not been in a state of mind to do justice to its views. The hours that she spent there were too crowded with incident and surprise to leave her memory with more than an indistinct impression of waves sparkling in autumn sunshine, a steep hill leading down to the curve of the bay, pretty little old houses tumbling almost into the sea and, of course, the great stone bulk of the famous Cobb, stretching out into the water like a sleeping monster.
She was enjoying this prospect about two hours after their arrival. She had walked out onto the Cobb, leaving her companions gathered around Miss Harris, who was attempting to capture the scene upon her easel. Dido rather doubted her success, for she seemed to have so poor a grasp of perspective that a lopsided sheep grazing upon the low cliffs looked almost large enough to devour the town; it was partly to conceal her laughter that she had separated herself.
It was exhilarating to be alone on the exposed stone walk with the wind driving the white-crested waves about her and snapping at her bonnet ribbons, and she was not pleased to see Colonel Walborough walking intently towards her, red-faced, head bowed against the wind, hands clasped behind his back.
‘Ah, Miss Kent, I wondered whether this might be an opportunity…’ he began and was then forced to pause from lack of breath. ‘My fortune, don’t you know,’ he reminded her and held out a large, plump hand. ‘You were so kind as to say that you would read my palm.’
‘Oh yes.’ Dido looked down at the hand and wondered what she ought to do with it. The rage for palmistry had not yet arrived at Badleigh and she had never witnessed the science. But she bent her head over the proffered hand and endeavoured to look wise.
The sunlight showed up calluses on the palm – no doubt caused by weapons and the reigns of horses. The lines crisscrossing the hard skin were unremarkable. What struck her most forcibly was the childish shortness of the big, square nails, which were bitten down almost to the quick.
‘Ah, yes,’ she said slowly with a shake of her head, which she hoped suggested profound musing. ‘I see that you are very worried about something, Colonel Walborough. Something is troubling you a great deal.’
‘You are right, m’dear. That is quite remarkable! Can you see that in my hand?’
‘Oh yes,’ Dido assured him. ‘It is all here to be read in your hand.’ She smiled and held aside the unruly ribbons of her bonnet, which were flapping about her face. ‘Now, let me see,’ she said, thinking much more of how she might discover information than reveal it. ‘There is something very strange here in these lines. Very strange indeed.’
She looked up and saw his eyes fixed intently upon her and his broad cheeks glowing in the wind. She could almost fancy that he was holding his breath. ‘Colonel, I see that you have lately undergone a change of heart. That you have taken a decision to alter the course of your life.’
