The Wittier’s always spent their Christmas holiday at Mr. Wittier’s mother’s country estate, and most of the time Isabella spent it with them, unless she was invited elsewhere. This year she had received no offers and she thankfully retired to the country with her cousins. She thought the distance from town would do her good.
The old Lady Wittier lived in her ancestral home, coming from the Percy family, an ancient English family. She kept her title upon her marriage to the less patrician, Mr. Wittier, who had held the advantage of rather great funds from a mercantile family past. Upon the death of Mr. Wittier, Lady Wittier had retired to her ancestral home in the countryside, which was a grand old house of menacing gray stone and small windows. In some ways, it was not the most welcoming of manorial estates, but Lady Wittier was still held in great esteem by the neighborhood, partially due to her grand old fashioned style of embellishing what there was to be had.
When Isabella and the Wittier’s were guests at her home, they not only spent time at the Percy estate, but they were also involved in all of the other gentry’s festivities, which would have rather perished than exclude the great dowager of their neighborhood. They planned to spend one month at the Percy estate, making the most of the season.
The weather was rather disheartening the evening of the Derbyfield’s ball, but as it was looked forward to with heated anticipation every year, there did not seem to be a lack of company, Isabella observed upon entering the gaily-decorated hall. Outside the snow swirled about, plainly visible in the large glazed windows, but inside, thanks to the two fires on either side of the hall and to the number of guests, Isabella felt no cold. She thought to herself that she might be quite warm if she were dancing. It was certainly warmer than the jaunty carriage ride they had suffered through in order to attend. A servant helped remove both Evelina and Isabella’s ermine lined cloaks, and Lady Wittier led the family into the thick of the crowd.
The music was gay and the tables thick with foods that looked particularly inviting, and immediately Isabella felt as if she should truly enjoy herself. The company to be had was also a welcoming sort of people, most of whom she had known since her youth, so that she was greeted with many smiles and cheerful hellos. Thomas followed at her side and danced the first two dances with her. Isabella found herself smiling more than she had in months. The candlelight playing along the walls and the thick evergreen roping hanging along the ceiling made for a very festive atmosphere--she felt herself very much in the spirit.
"Would you like some punch?" Thomas asked. "Yes, thank you." Thomas wandered off and Isabella stood along the wall, waiting for his return. She wore a wine red silk dress, white gloves, and white gardenias from the hothouse in her hair, which was swept up on her head in little ringlets. Her cheeks were somewhat flushed from the combination of the cool air and exercise, and her eyes sparkled in the candlelight. She was taping her foot under the skirt of her dress and looking over towards the musical ensemble, when someone approached from her right, drawing her attention.
"Alex!" she exclaimed being completely taken by surprise. She had not anticipated seeing him over the holidays. "Hello Isabella." She had not spoken with him or even seen him from afar for a few weeks, as his presence in their home had ceased completely since their emotional meeting in the Wittier parlor. "What brings you here?" Isabella asked as she impulsively grabbed one of his hands. "I was invited by Daniel More to spend the holidays with his family here." "Indeed! I did not think you so intimate with him. Was he part of your Oxford class?"
Thomas returned carrying a crystal glass of punch for his cousin. "Reginald! Why didn’t I know you would be here?" he said, clapping Alex on the back. "I came with More." "Really? Well, all the better. I’m afraid Gerald is off somewhere with Evelina. Introducing her to someone or other. I’ve taken on Bella here, as you see." "Would you mind if I ‘took’ your lovely cousin on for a bit?" Alex asked with a smile. Turning to Isabella he continued, "if you would agree to dance with me?" Isabella, still much in shock, had never taken the punch glass from her cousin, and now, forgetting about it completely, she agreed.
At first, with Alex holding her on the dance floor, she thought that she might faint, but soon enough she felt strength to speak once more, being overcome by curiosity. "Really, it does seem strange for you to show up in the Percy’s neighborhood of all places." Alex’s smile was playful: "You think so?" Isabella blushed and looked down for a moment. "Well, I was surprised. Shall you be staying with the Mores throughout the holiday?" "That is my intention at least." "Indeed, you should have told Gerald that you would be here. To think that we might never have met while in the same small neighborhood." "I did not want to intrude any further into the Wittier family. I’m afraid that I’ve trespassed quite enough on Mr. Wittier of late…and perhaps other family members…?"
Isabella searched his face for something, and then answered genuinely: "Alex, if you mean to ask…you’ve done nothing to offend me." He smiled with satisfaction. "That’s very good to hear, Isabella. I’d wondered. I was badly behaved and…" "Yes," Isabella conceded with a bright flush in her cheeks betraying her momentary embarrassment at recalling their last meeting. "I’ve kept away, thinking perhaps that you were displeased with me." "I wish you hadn’t, for even if I had been displeased, my displeasure with you is never of the lasting sort."
Alex smiled brightly at her cheering admission. "And I must confess that I knew we would eventually meet here. If my noble intention had been to stay away from the Wittier family to avoid vexing them, my choice of residence is proof enough of my lack of fortitude in such a resolution." "I’m glad then. Alex, you must come and visit Lady Wittier’s." "That’s very good of you, but I’m afraid she seems a bit too grand for me to presume to show up without an invitation." "My invitation isn’t good enough?" "Then you’re inviting me to pay you a visit?" "Yes, essentially, that’s what I’m doing, Alex," she said laughing. "Then I shall brave Lady Wittier’s wrath to see you, Isabella." "How very good of you. But Lady Wittier is not so severe as that: she is rather old fashioned, but she is a kind lady."
After their first dance was over, Gerald found them and set to making plans with Alex for the following day. Alex thought it a good idea to spend the day with Gerald, as he hoped that it would gain him an invitation to dinner, thus giving him more time with Isabella. He had come to the Percy’s neighborhood with the explicit hope of spending the holiday with Isabella: he had procured himself the invitation to the More’s solely for that reason.
Seeing his dearest from across the room, as he had done before walking over to her, she had seemed to him the most beautiful lady in the entire hall and perhaps the entire world. There certainly was no other young lady for him. He had waited patiently for her to be alone, and then gone over with no words in mind with which to explain his mysterious appearance. And, it had not seemed as if she cared too much his reason for being there, other than that expressed through her natural curiosity. Indeed, her chief response seemed to Alex to be one of delight at his arrival, no matter what the cause. He was sure that she ascertained that he was there for only one reason: to see her.
As the night ended, Alex walked Isabella out to Lady Wittier’s carriage, to hand her inside. "You’ll be coming by tomorrow then?" she asked as they stepped outside the door. The snow blew in their faces and Alex hoped she was warm enough. "Yes, I will. I’m sure I shall see you." "Yes, do try to come sit with me for a time at least. I shan’t be going out in this weather." They came to the carriage, and Mr. Wittier helped Lady Wittier inside, before turning to bid Reginald adieu. Thomas helped Evelina inside and Gerald waited for Reginald to hand Isabella in before saying goodbye to his friend and jumping inside to firmly pull the door of the carriage tightly closed. Alex stepped back and the carriage driver moved the horses into the dark white night.
Successes
When Gerald and Alex returned in the late afternoon, Mr. Wittier invited Alex to stay for dinner on behalf of Lady Wittier, who at the moment was not disposed to meet with her young visitor. Isabella, upon hearing her uncle’s invitation, felt herself begin to glow with anticipation. It had been quite some time since she had been afforded two evenings in Alex’s company. She was sitting upstairs with Evelina when the call to dinner was made and she eagerly hurried down the steep stone stairs of the grand house.
Evelina stopped her halfway down by laying a hand on her shoulder and whispering: "Bella! Stop just a moment, for I have something to ask of you." "What is it?" she asked with some degree of annoyance at being prevented from rushing to the dinning room. "I mean to ask if you will accept Reginald?" Isabella was aghast; she could not even formulate any words. "I only ask, because Thomas has told me that he intends on asking you!" "Why would Thomas know such things before I did?" she asked, mildly scolding her cousin. "Thomas is a gossip, Evelina, and you shouldn’t set such store in everything he says. Half the time he is teasing you, after all." Isabella began down the steps again, but Evelina whispered as she followed: "all the same, I would like to know what you’ll say."
They entered the stately dinning room and Evelina wondered at the food already set on the table. Her grandmother always had the best of everything. Isabella, on the other hand, saw nothing on the table; her eyes immediately were riveted to Alex, who was already seated. The gentlemen stood up upon the ladies’ entrance and both girls curtseyed to Lady Wittier who sat at one end of the table, Mr. Wittier at the other.
"Good evening, ladies," Lady Wittier spoke as she sat in her chair, looking extremely regal in her attire and carriage. "Good evening," they both answered. A servant pulled out their chairs and they were seated, Isabella across from Alex, whom she proceeded to engage in a gentle smile. "Your uncle, Miss Bloomingfield, has done me the service of introducing me to a young friend of your cousin Gerald. Are you acquainted with him?" "Yes, Lady Wittier," she said blushing, feeling as if the looks she had been giving Alex had not gone unnoticed by the old lady. Throughout the meal, Isabella felt as if she was sitting across from a secret affianced, rather than her friend of old, and owing to this new feeling, she could not control the color in her cheeks and she could not trust her tongue to speak.
She looked forward to the time when she would be given some peace, as the men retired to a separate room for some time. When that time came, she suffered herself to finally breathe and sat somewhat more at ease against the sofa, collecting her thoughts as Lady Wittier and Evelina also took their seats. Evelina could never be counted on to speak when in the presence of her grandmother, as she felt somewhat overwhelmed by her and needed drawing out as a result. Regardless, Lady Wittier always thought Miss Bloomingfield a very good sort of girl whom she did not mind being solely in conversation with for any extended time. Her attempts were almost worth nothing this evening, however, as Isabella found herself unable to raise her spirits to common conversation, feeling almost exhausted from the dinner.
"Miss Bloomingfield, are you feeling well tonight? You do not seem to be yourself." Isabella saw her cousin sit forward in her seat, eager to expose Isabella’s discomfort, which she rightly attributed to Reginald’s presence. Lady Wittier also took note of this, and was somewhat surprised by her granddaughter’s sudden burst of confidence. "Is there something you wish to say, child?" she asked, turning to address Evelina. Evelina turned bright red, considering that her grandmother might not wish to hear such gossip, and knew not what to say any longer. "No, ma’am." "I was sure that you did," Lady Wittier said raising her eyebrows before turning back to Isabella.
"You have not eased my mind as to your well-being, Miss Bloomingfield." "Forgive me. I am not myself, but I am not ill. Presently I shall be all right." "All mystery tonight, it appears between my two young companions," Lady Wittier said, seemingly bemused. "The foibles of youth, while perplexing, do offer me some entertainment, I must own. I have not had such an interesting dinner in months. My own granddaughter will not speak, but alternately smiles and leans forward, only to retreat and purse her lips! And Miss Bloomingfield…well, seeing that you are discomfited, I will not heighten your condition by commenting on it, but I find it all very odd."
Isabella swallowed, now wishing the men were back, so that at least she would not have to be questioned on her strange behavior, for she knew it must appear extremely perplexing to everyone around her. Or if only Lady Wittier would retire early, she could be left alone with her cousin, who now appeared so out of sorts from this slight scolding that she knew Evelina would not be in the mood to tease her.
Isabella stood up and turned to Lady Wittier. "Forgive me, but I have forgotten my embroidery in my chamber, and if you will excuse me, I will go and fetch it, so that I may be occupied." "Certainly. Bring back your wits as well," Lady Wittier responded, gesturing for Isabella to go. Evelina followed her cousin’s exit with her eyes, wishing that she had thought of such a clever excuse so as to be gone for a few minutes.
Isabella hurried into the hallway and was just about to make her way up the staircase, when Alex, who appeared to be leaving, met her. "Isabella," he said distractedly stopping in front of her. "I was just going to pay my regards to Lady Wittier." "You’re leaving?" she asked quietly, unsure whether she was pleased with this announcement. "Indeed, I thought it best, since the gentlemen will soon be joining the ladies, and I felt my presence not wanted." Isabella blushed hotly and looked towards the staircase, to which she wished she could flee.
"It seemed to me that my presence has been making you uncomfortable tonight, and I have no wish to make you uneasy, Isabella." "Indeed, it has made me uneasy, but for reasons you may not guess at, Alex," she whispered so quietly that Alex had to hang on every word in order to clearly make her out. "Will you relieve my suffering then, Isabella, and reveal your feelings, so that I may not forever wonder?" Her heart began to beat, as she wondered whether he was making another proposal or not. She looked about her, fearful that they would be discovered in such a private and unexplained conference.
"Isabella," he said calling back her attention by softly touching her hand clasped in front of her. "You do not truly mean to ask me these things here, like this, where we at any moment may be approached without warning, do you?" "Indeed, I know not what to do…I’ve been so long in suspense that now seems as good a time as any. For tomorrow, I’m afraid you might not even allow me into your presence." "I looked forward to your visit all day," Isabella protested. "Besides," she added, "I would not deny you such a small thing, Alex." "Are you sure? Tonight you seem so upset that I wonder at such a promise." "Please, Alex, ask me not why I acted so at dinner, for I am ashamed to admit it." Alex was extremely confused by these professions, but refused to be turned away.
"Isabella," he said, grasping her hand as she turned once more to go up the stairs. "Pause for one moment to hear me. I shall either speak now or tomorrow and I see your apprehension only grows with time. Perhaps I was wrong to stay away so long after…" he trailed off, unable to mention their last meeting in London. Isabella blushed again and attempted to pull away once more with more urgency. "I mean not to attempt what I did then, Isabella, dear. Please, have no fear of me right now. I shall be decent. It was passion that drove me…but now I am under obedient regulation."
Isabella was somewhat soothed by his words and stopped resisting, resigned to hear whatever it was that Alex would ask of her. "I am your devoted listener," she responded in order to make him speak again, as he seemed almost lost in gazing at her. "I am almost afraid to begin once more, Isabella…you have not taught me to hope…" He looked down at the floor before gathering himself to begin once more. "My wishes for my future, for our future, Isabella, my dear, are the same. Indeed, I know you might think me precipitous in bringing about such a claim on you. You have at times painted me unknowing in my own feelings on the subject of love, and perhaps that is my own fault for not making my feelings more clear; I chose you for my most hoped for companion in life many years prior to this moment. I thought I had only to hope for your acceptance of my offer, not thinking of my situation in life as a serious barrier to our happiness. Yet you have taught me to see that and now perhaps you shall be more willing to pay my addresses heed, since I am not the same man who made you my first offer. I am now in possession of a seat in Parliament and I am not without friends who are willing to help me become more suitably positioned for a life with you. So, I have endeavored to improve my situation, in hopes that you…"
"Oh Alex, no more, please!" Isabella cried, raising her hand to bring to an end to his speech, immediately stopping him and draining all color from his face. "Please, don’t torture me anymore by making reference to such mercenary views, which you now attribute to me. Indeed, it was my own shallowness that prevented me from seeing the earnestness of your offers and feelings, as I do now. I wonder that you would even make me such an offer believing me to be such a person." Her voice was soft and pleading, but Alex was baffled as to what she meant by these statements: he knew not whether she was allowing him to go on with his offer or whether she was trying to gently let him down, so he stayed silent. Isabella blushed, forcing herself to continue without any apparent encouragement: "I have determined since…our last meeting in my uncle’s house…that should you ever choose to honor me with…" She sighed, almost overwhelmed with her efforts and she felt herself begin to tremble.
Alex stepped forward, "pray, lean on me, Isabella." She allowed him to slip his arm around her waist. Alex paused for a moment, before feeling it necessary to speak once more. "Isabella, my dearest, are you then willing to become my wife and be no longer parted from me?" Isabella wanted to make certain that her words would be heard, so that Alex would be in no doubt of the strength of her feelings. She lifted her head to look into his eyes, and spoke as clearly as she could, yet still softly. "I’ve known for so long now that I could never truly be happy without you. I’ve learned within the last few months that it is wrong to condemn you as well, since I’m assured of the strength of your feelings for me. I shall never oppose your will ever again, Alex, dearest. If you should say ‘we shall marry tomorrow,’ I would only be too glad to obey you."
The joy with which Alex heard these words went beyond anything he had hitherto experienced, and he had all he could do to keep from sealing their engagement with a kiss. He feared to do so at this moment, as they were in the hallway, completely without privacy. Indeed, it now seemed to him rather dangerous that he was holding Isabella in the manner that he was, so he slowly released her.
"My dearest, my soon to be wife, permit me to leave for a moment and acquaint your uncle with our wishes. I must confess I am eager to gain permission for our union. Only then shall I feel truly at ease." "Indeed, you need not ask my permission. Fly to him, and I shall return to Lady Wittier’s side." Her smile was so sweet and complying that Alex felt as if he might himself need support as he hurried back from whence he had come.
Isabella slowly reentered the room where Lady Wittier and Evelina were sitting in silence. Evelina looked up, glad to see that her cousin had returned to relieve some of the awkwardness. Lady Wittier, however, saw that Isabella was not carrying her embroidery with her.
"Miss Bloomingfield have you deceived us as to your purpose in leaving the room?" Her words were not harsh, as she found Isabella’s behavior rather amusing, but Isabella felt a wave a guilt wash over herself and she knew her face was glowing. "I…" she stuttered, unable to think of anything to excuse herself. "Well, it matters not. If you wished to stand in the hallway for some time, Evelina and I will try not to be affronted." Isabella looked at Evelina as she sat down and was met with a look of amazement. She knew that she was now becoming quite a mysterious object to her two female companions, but she could say nothing to relieve their curiosity.
A moment later Gerald and Thomas entered the room, both coming to sit on either side of Isabella with a look of mischief about them. "Will you not even greet your grandmother?" Lady Wittier scolded. "Oh, but we’ve come to tease our Bella," Thomas said, taking his cousin’s hand, which she distractedly pulled away. "I’m sure Miss Bloomingfield would rather you did not, gentlemen." "She would not be so cruel. She has, after all, already taken away the rest of our entertainment for the night," Gerald scolded teasingly. "Indeed!" Thomas continued with the attack "Broken up our party with her commands! And possibly broken up our fun for good, for you know how young men change once they are…"
Isabella interrupted by standing up: "Thomas, would you please fetch me my shawl…I’ve forgotten it, and I believe there is a draft." Thomas stood, "yes, of course, Bella, I know you wish us all to be gone," he said as he obligingly left the room. Isabella sighed and sat back down.
"You are very evil to torment Miss Bloomingfield, Gerald. You should as a grown man be above such behavior by now. I do not know what your father does with you." "Bella doesn’t mind, ma’am. She is very good to us." "Indeed, and you try her goodness. Perhaps your sister will not be so good when her time comes," Lady Wittier said, bringing about more blushes from Isabella. Isabella forced herself to speak, knowing that she only made herself more of a target through her silence: "Lady Wittier, do not worry yourself about Gerald. I’m afraid that teasing me is irresistible to him at this moment, but he is mostly very good."
Her words immediately chastised her cousin. "Then forgive me, sweetest Bella, but I knew you would not hate me for it. Besides, you are right in the difficulty of the moment, as you had led me to believe that your intentions were otherwise." "Enough!" Lady Wittier proclaimed, "this is a disgrace to speak in such a way when the only people suited to defend Miss Bloomingfield are not present." "Oh, I may defend myself, ma’am, but thank you," Isabella said giving Gerald a stern look.
Thomas burst back into the room, obviously having come from a run. "What is this all about?" Isabella asked, as Thomas panted, handing her the shawl. "I ran so as not to miss anything," he explained, sitting down alongside her once more. "Why, Gerald, you look rather silenced. Don’t tell me that these ladies have chastised you while I was gone!" he exclaimed. "Indeed, they have, and I’m resigned to keep quiet." "Quite right of you," Lady Wittier nodded. "Well, I shan’t keep quiet! I missed everything I see, and I think it isn’t fair." Gerald leaned across Isabella, whispering to his brother, "I’m sure we shall get a chance to privately rail against our victims later, Thomas." Isabella sighed, avoiding their stares, and Gerald leaned back to prop his feet up on an ottoman, resuming his typical bearing of ease and boredom.
Thomas and Gerald seemed momentarily appeased, which she silently thanked Lady Wittier for, and yet her mind was not at ease. She wondered what could be taking her uncle and Alex so long now. Certainly her uncle had already given Alex tacit consent during his bid for the seat in Parliament, and Alex had hinted that her uncle also had offered some establishment for them to live in upon their marriage, when he had mentioned his "friends". Surely they would not now let her linger waiting in this room, while they discussed particulars!
Just then Mr. Wittier and Alex entered the room. Isabella blushed as she met Alex’s gaze and he smiled kindly back at her, while her uncle watched his niece with pleasure, before greeting his mother and seating himself. Thomas leapt up and bowed ceremoniously: "let me give up my seat for you, Reginald, as I now believe you have more a claim to it than I do, as Bella’s mere cousin." If it had been anyone else, Isabella would have laughed at these proceedings, but she could not bring herself to do so. Evelina, on the other hand, found herself stifling a laugh and looking quickly back and forth from her cousin to Reginald.
"Thomas, for heaven’s sake, sit yourself down and shut your mouth. I imagine you are giving a great deal of pain to Miss Bloomingfield and your grandmother, both to whom you owe a great deal more respect than this behavior would cause one to believe." Thomas skipped across the room to a window seat, where he could watch the party undisturbed, and his sister, who wished to whisper with him about the night’s affairs, quickly joined him.
Alex having taken the seat offered to him, leaned closer to Isabella in order to speak quietly to her. "I hope that they have not been giving you too much grief." "No, indeed, do not trouble yourself about it. Their teasing shall mean nothing soon enough." Alex smiled, "I shall announce our engagement whenever you see fit. Your uncle, as I’m sure you have guessed, wishes us nothing but blessings and happiness." "I am so glad of it," she said beaming, "but I do not require a grand announcement. I would be satisfied that my friends and family merely became acquainted with it in a timely manner, so that I may not be forever tortured by such ruffians as these," she said smiling in the direction of Gerald, who now seemed oblivious to anyone else’s presence in the room. "I shall handle Thomas and Gerald in my own way later. You shall have to scold Miss Wittier, as she is a lady and I think it not fit for her to be dealt with so sternly as I intend with these gentlemen," Alex replied in a light manner. "I shan’t ask you to be gentle," she replied with a smile.
"Your father has invited me to come for Christmas dinner on behalf of Lady Wittier, but otherwise I know not whether I shall be able to visit you beforehand. Indeed, I shall have to make sincere apologies to the Mores for abandoning them completely." "I believe I have a better claim to you now," Isabella said lightly touching his hand before demurely placing her own once more in her lap. "Indeed you do, and I will let More know why I am dashing off to be with the dear Miss Bloomingfield. Nothing shall prevent me from telling everyone what an angel you are now." "You shall sorely misrepresent me, I fear." "You are right, such a description would not do you justice, as you combine the sublimity of an angel with that of everything that is attractive in a woman.* You may well try to stop me, but I promise you, it will be all for naught, for I believe it my right." Isabella smiled benevolently on him, thinking him the dearest man in existence, and he had indeed shown himself truer than she could have ever hoped.
As the evening came to an end, Alex promised to come as soon as he could, but as Christmas was only two days away, he was afraid he might not be able to come until dinner. So, Isabella bid him adieu and hurried to her room, so as to avoid her cousins’ questions.
*"the sublimity of an angel, mingled with all that is attractive in woman" (Burney, Fanny, Cecilia. pp. 572, World’s Classic’s edition, 1988) Spoken by Burney’s hero, Mortimer Delvile about the heroine, Cecilia Beverley, in his attempt to gain her acceptance to their proposed marriage.
