* * * * * * *
“Mr. Gibson, I must not continue to engross you. I promised to take you to Lord Mulgrave. We are fortunate, the First Lord is not often found outside of the Admiralty! Thanks to my uncle, I am well acquainted with the highest ranks of the Navy, and I would be pleased to introduce you to anyone able to give you the particulars you seek.”
“I am vastly obliged to you, ma’am. But will you not first do me the honour of introducing yourself, before I meet Lord Mulgrave?”
“Oh! In my vanity, I thought you knew who I am. I am such a particular friend of Lady Delingpole, that I supposed she had already drawn my portrait for you. I am Mary Bertram.”
“I am your servant, ma’am. May I ask, are you related to the Northamptonshire Bertrams? Of Mansfield Park?”
“Indeed, sir. By marriage.”
Mr. Gibson tried to maintain his friendly composure, but for him, the name “Bertram,” meant the family who he suspected of bullying and mistreating his friend Miss Price, when she was a child. He realized his arm, which was supporting the lady’s hand, grew rigid beneath her fingers. She gracefully withdrew it, and snapped open her fan.
“Indeed.” Mr. Gibson said after a moment’s silence. “Well. Indeed. And I trust that they are all—that is—I have the honour of being acquainted with some relations of yours. Miss Price and her brother, the lieutenant.”
“Do you indeed?”
“Yes,” answered William. “Indeed. Yes.”
He waited for the lady to speak again.
“Pray, Mr. Gibson, how long have you known little Miss Price? Did you meet her while you were in Portsmouth? Her family resides there. Her mother made a most imprudent marriage, you know.”
“An unfortunate marriage, you say, ma’am? A lesson for the rest of us, perhaps.”
“I should caution you, Mr. Gibson, that Miss Price’s true character is not soon understood. Fortunately for her, she possesses the ability of appearing to be the embodiment of wounded innocence. I have come to deeply regret my acquaintance with her. Were you aware of her involvement in an episode involving my late brother, almost two years ago?”
“Yes, I was ma’am, and may I say, I am very sorry for your tragic loss.”
Mr. Gibson wondered if his fair companion intended to lay all the blame for Henry Crawford’s misdeeds—his seduction of a girl of respectable family, his refusal to marry her, and his reckless driving—on Fanny! He was curious to hear Mary Bertram’s version of the tragedy, but he also expected to see Mrs. Butters and Fanny appear at the gathering at every moment. He added, “I happen to know that Miss Price is highly remorseful, and blames herself for circumstances which, in all candour, cannot with justice be laid at her feet.”
“You have your version of events from Miss Price directly, I suppose?”
“As well, I am a writer, ma’am, and as such, have a hunger for accurate information.”
“There is more to the story, Mr. Gibson, and were it not for my own pride and my sense of what I owe to my family, I would confide in you.”
“Indeed, ma’am, you are quite right in not unfolding so much to a scribbler, and that on such short acquaintance. I honour your discretion. Perhaps we will have the pleasure of speaking again in the future. How long will you be residing in London, ma’am? Do you divide your time between town and Mansfield?”
“I will take you into my confidence on that head, Mr. Gibson, as it is no secret amongst my friends. I am an exile. I am forbidden to return to my home in Northamptonshire.” Mary looked about her, then moved closer, standing on tiptoe and almost whispering into the writer’s ear.
“My husband has written to tell me that so long as his sister Julia remains unmarried, he forbids me his roof.”
“How eccentric of him! Are you to be looking out for a husband for her, then?”
Mary laughed. “I should be pleased to interview any applicants for the post. Miss Julia Bertram is a handsome, accomplished young lady, and will make someone a very good wife, to be sure.”
“Splendid, there should be no difficulty there. With you to champion her cause and with her own attractions, she is certain to make some fortunate gentleman happy before long.”
“Attractions or no, depend upon it, her father will insist she make an advantageous match. The family must repair their fortunes, after the unfortunate incident—oh, but of course you know all about it. Your ship intercepted Sir Thomas’ slave ship, did it not?”
“That is to say, the ship on which I served. Although I understand that Sir Thomas Bertram had been deceived by his business partners, for he was told the Clementine was transporting palm oil. We may at least acquit him of attempting to flout the ban on trading slaves.”
“True, true. But the result is, Miss Julia Bertram is now for sale to the highest bidder. If you knew Sir Thomas, you would understand he would not recognize the irony in selling his daughter now that he has been debarred from selling Negroes.”
Mr. Gibson was a particular confidant of Lieutenant William Price, and he knew the private hopes his friend cherished in regard to Julia Bertram. He could not help asking, “So, an alliance with a navy lieutenant of unblemished courage, enterprise and character, for example, would not satisfy Miss Bertram’s family?”
“Fortune, Mr. Gibson, more than rank or title or even character, is what is wanted here.”
Her companion nodded his
