After tea, Mr. Price offered to take Edmund for a tour of the docks, in a manner that did not allow for the possibility that his guest might not be interested, while Julia remained behind in the hopes of recommending herself to William’s mother. She was taken aback, however, when Mrs. Price directly declared, “So, you fancy yourself in love with my William, do you?”
Susan, her face betraying a guilty conscience, dragged Betsey to the hallway to try on their new bonnets before the little mirror, and then led her outside. For Betsey, the pleasure of showing off her new bonnet before her friends won out, but narrowly, over her urge to crawl under the table to listen to the interesting conversation.
Alas, Julia would not find in Mrs. Price a champion of romantic attachments. Although Miss Frances Ward had disobliged her family to marry a lieutenant of marines, she did not endorse a similar course for her oldest and favourite child.
“I haven’t forgotten, Miss Julia, what it is to be carried away by love. Nature plays a cruel trick on us, when we are young—our passions run so high...” Mrs. Price closed her eyes, briefly, remembering. “Happiness—very happy indeed, we were. Then came the hard times. Another baby every year. And opening your eyes in the morning, to the sound of a baby wailing in its cot, and the only thing you can think about is how in the name of heaven were you going to pay the bills and feed the children, the worry and the endless work, until you fall into bed exhausted at the close of the day.”
“My dear Aunt Price... I hope that the help you received from my parents... My father’s assistance... And of course, taking Fanny to live with us...”
But Mrs. Price was in a bitter mood and would not be placated. “Oh, yes, I was bewildered when they proposed to take Fanny, and not one of my boys. My oldest girl gone, and Susan barely old enough to fetch and carry. I was left with six small children, and another on the way, without Fanny to help me! You cannot begin to imagine! Well, Miss Julia, shall this be my reward—for you to steal William away from me as well?”
“Oh, but of course not, Aunt Price. I know he loves you exceedingly.”
“When I was your age,” continued Mrs. Price, ignoring her, “I never dreamt I would grow old one day. We none of us intend to. Once, I was considered to be something of a beauty, like yourself. Once, my hair was the same beautiful colour as yours. I had pretty dresses to wear, and a little pink parasol. And I went with my sisters to the assemblies at Northampton, in my white gown, and with little dancing slippers with rosettes on them. And I never sat down, let me tell you, for want of a partner.
“Yet, here I am, with half of my teeth out of my head and my back aching so badly that some mornings I can barely get out of bed. So please tell me, Miss Julia, if you take William from me, what am I to live upon in my old age, after losing my health in rearing up ten children? After I have buried my husband? Where shall I live? Where shall I go? If you have no consideration for poor old widows, I am sure my son William does! He knows what is due to his mother! He is the oldest son, and he will be the head of the household one day, responsible for Susan and Betsey as well, if I should lose Mr. Price.”
Julia was mortified. In her world, money was simply something which flowed out of her father’s purse, as needed. She and her brothers and sister were secure in the expectation of handsome dowries and settlements. In none of the genteel families of her acquaintance were the children responsible for the maintenance of the parents.
“But—but—I am sure dear Uncle Price is very hale, and you need not have any concerns on that score, Aunt Price? He looks very well, indeed,” Julia said uncertainly, recalling her uncle’s short, thick neck, the large bulbous nose marked with blue veins, and his ample belly. “And, should the worst occur, naturally my father would make some provision for you.”
“How generous you are with other people’s money! As though I had any expectations of your father!” Mrs. Price tossed her head proudly. “And my William will do very well for himself—if, that is, he does not make a foolish marriage.
“Tell me, miss, what can you do for my William? You cannot help him in his career—you have no relatives with influence at the Admiralty. Rather, you will only hold him back. You have some monies from your father, I suppose, but you will be used to living as a great lady, at a high expense, and your expectations will far exceed your income—you will plunge him into miserable debt.”
“Aunt Price,” Julia stammered and blushed. “Please, I am by no means extravagant in my expectations. A large income is not necessary for my happiness.”
“No? Perhaps you should look carefully around you, before you decide how large an income is necessary for your happiness,” Mrs. Price snapped.
Julia was very quiet when Edmund came to escort her back to the Crown Inn.
* * * * * * *
The Crocodile anchored safely at Portsmouth and the cold sleet and grey skies of England were a foretaste of paradise for the survivors of the journey. Thirty-four of the crewmen had perished of the fevers which haunted the African coast. William Price became first lieutenant when Captain Columbine’s wasted body, wrapped in his shroud, went over the side.
The news of Edmund and Julia’s visit brought the most acute sensations of pleasure and pain. It could only
