"When did you first fall in love?"
"I think, I first fell in love when I was in fifth grade with this boy who kept his glass ruler in the sunlight and made rainbows on my desk with it." Saiber, Stardust and Sheets
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II.
March 18, 1812
Dear Jem,
I hope this letter finds you, Mother, and our family well, as always.
Belle and I are settling into our new home and are enjoying filling it with things that belong to us. I am especially enjoying seeing Belle take command of her own space and asserting her opinions and her authority over what is hers. It truly delights me.
But I must confess, writing to inform you of the progress of Belle's dress shop or our flat was not the purpose of this letter. I returned home this evening to some rather interesting news that I thought you would most definitely care to hear.
Belle was visited by two customers only this afternoon with whom we all share an acquaintance. Mrs Martin and her daughter, your Miss Cressie, came to order a ballgown for the latter's debut for this upcoming Season. It seems she did not fall off the face of the Earth after all! She is in London and preparing to enter into the marriage mart that is London in the summer.
What you do with this information is entirely up to you, brother, but I thought you would want to know. While I do not know the particulars of your acquaintance with Miss Martin, or how you parted, I do know that you were terribly fond of her, and that her absence has caused you pain.
No matter how we both enjoy vexing each other (you more than me!), I do sincerely wish for your happiness and felicity in your future union. Be the lucky woman Miss Martin, or another.
Should you decide to descend upon London in the near future, know that your brother and sister-in-law would be happy to host you. However, if you would prefer not to encroach upon the hospitality of two newlyweds who are so enjoying their privacy, I would tell you that my bedroom in the home of Jack and Claire is currently vacant.
I look forward to your reply.
Your brother,
Peter
Jem had read his brother's letter at least five times before he had left for home, and another time through before he had walked through the door of the Denham family home in the Ashwood village.
Jem had begun the letter dryly, truly wondering why his brother had sent an express to inform him of the progress of the dress shop. While he was certainly pleased for his brother and new sister-in-law, Jem had very little interest in silks and satins. But Peter had predicted this, and the true purpose of his letter had floored Jem.
The very idea that he knew exactly where Cressie was felt ... troubling. He felt extremely unsettled in his stomach, which was not the way he imagined he would feel if he had ever had the chance to see her again. But Jem presumed that he felt this way because of his terrible conduct at the Winter Assembly, and he knew that the feeling would never allay unless he apologised and corrected his behaviour.
On his walk back to his house, Jem's thoughts had momentarily strayed away from his own desire to correct the faux pas that was his panic proposal and had settled on the purpose of Cressie's being in London.
Cressie was in London to find a husband.
Cressie was in London to find a husband.
If he had not already felt ill, Jem's stomach churned.
The beautiful young woman, the girl with the curly, golden mane, and the warm brown, dimpled eyes who yearned to swim in the ocean, was going to be married off to someone ... someone who didn't understand her ... or someone who had no desire to.
Jem certainly didn't know Cressie as well as he would have liked to, but he certainly had the desire to. In their brief meeting, he had seen her spirit in her smile and the way her eyes flared when she spoke of something she longed to do. Cressie's spirit flowed within her veins and Jem's own yearning to know her had certainly never dissipated.
What made him sick was the vision of an old, portly gentleman seeing the beauty that was Cressie and marrying her to stow her on a mantle with his other trophies that gathered dust.
Jem was certainly no gentleman, but ...
"Jeremy Denham!" The door to his house swung open, and his mother stood in the entryway admonishing him. "What are you doing lurking about thus? I saw a great tree of a man skulking about from the window and I thought a marauder had come upon us all! Walk in the door properly, would you?"
Jem had quite possibly heard his mother use his given name five or six times in his life. It almost sounded foreign to him; Jem was so unused to hearing it. He had once posed the idea to his family that he would start going by his full name in an attempt to sound more refined and ... gentlemanly. But his family had quickly squashed that idea. They could never see him as a Jeremy. He would always be Jem. Or Jemmy, when they felt particularly inclined to baby him.
Jem obliged his mother and entered into the house, bending down to kiss her cheek. Mrs Denham was not satisfied with that as she quickly secured her youngest born child into a tight hug, before she kissed him several times on his forehead.
Jem was the farthest thing possible from a gentleman.
"Mother," he grumbled. "I am not an infant."
Mrs Denham laughed. "Says who? You are my baby whether you like it or not." But she did released Jem, who promptly righted his posture and straightened his coat. Mrs Denham pursed her lips as she appraised Jem. She left her cane leaning against the door as it closed and reached up to brush off his shoulders. "So handsome," she mused. "When did you get so handsome?" She smiled. "Come now. Supper is almost ready Amélie has been working her usual wonders in the kitchen. Alex had brought over a new ingredient that he has been cultivating. She had prepared something called an avocado pear. Have you ever heard of it?"
Jem adored his mother. He would always greatly respect her for the childhood that she had made certain he would enjoy. Jem never knew the troubles that some of his other siblings had faced, and he knew that he had been greatly protected by them all because of the age he had been when his father had died.
What frustrated Jem now in living at home with his mother was that he felt like a child, and not like the young man he longed to be. While he would never be a gentleman, he certainly had the ambition and motivation to make his way in the world.
He had felt more frustrated than ever seated at the table with Mrs Denham and Amélie with the knowledge that Cressie was in London husband hunting. And that was nobody's fault except for his own. Had he not panic proposed, he might have artfully formed an attachment to Cressie, and she in return. Instead, he had frightened her off.
Perhaps he had decided the minute he had read Peter's letter that he would be travelling to London, because his plan was firm in his head by the time that he had consumed his supper of avocado pears and plantains.
***
Jem was early to Ashwood House the next morning in a deliberate plan to catch both Grace and Adam together. They could always be found in the nursery in the early morning spending time together as a family before Adam went to his study to work.
Jem knocked on the door and opened it when he heard his sister's soft call to enter. Inside the nursery he found quite the scene of a father who doted upon his daughters. Adam sat before a great doll's house that had been gifted to Perrie by Cecily last Christmas. Jem's niece, Jackie, had been given an identical one that she would share with Maria when she was old enough. Lily was seated upon Adam's lap as both girls smothered their father with commands about which dolls could go where, and what furniture belonged in what room.
The dark haired two and four-and-one-half year olds had quite the control over their father, and Perrie, who would be five in September, seemed to know how to get her way already.
Grace smiled at Jem in greeting. She was seated in a rocking chair in the corner, her hands resting on her belly. Seeing her sitting there happily filled Jem with relief that no serious injury had been caused by the accident the day before. "Good morning, Jem. You are here early," she remarked. "Did you have a sudden desire to play dolls?"
Adam turned his head and smirked. "Do join us," he encouraged. "Miss Pimsy is about to marry Mr Porky."
"Papa!" exclaimed Perrie, shock covering her sweet face. "Mr Porky isn't marrying Miss Pimsy! Miss Pimsy is the bridesmaid! He's marrying Miss Belle because she has the prettiest dress." Perrie shook her head at her father, as though he had missed the terribly obvious. "Here, Lily," Perrie held out one of the dolls to her sister, "you be Mr Porky because Papa keeps getting it wrong."
"Perrie, do not tell your sister or your father what to do," scolded Grace.
"But Mama!" cried Perrie, her blue eyes widening at her mother's sudden admonishment.
"But Mama nothing. Stop being a dictator, or we shall have to rename some of your dolls. Caesar and Brutus come to mind."
Adam sniggered at Grace's joke and Perrie was indeed most put out. She sighed dramatically as she reluctantly allowed Adam to re-join her game before graciously allowing Lily to be the Belle doll.
"You sound more like Mother every day," Jem observed as he sat down on Perrie's bed, the one nearest Grace's rocking chair.
Grace laughed softly. "Good. We five turned out well enough, did we not?"
Jem certainly thought his four elder siblings had become well-rounded and established adults. He was yet to join them. But he desperately wanted to. He wanted to be a man worthy of someone like Cressie.
Jem had considered lying to his family about his desire to go to London, but as soon as the thought had entered his mind, he had known it was the immature thing to do. After all Grace and Adam had done for him, he owed them the truth. And perhaps if they knew, they might be able to help him.
"I came here earlier this morning to share with you what Peter had written to me about in his express yesterday."
"Oh?" Grace inquired curiously.
"What express?" asked Adam from the doll's wedding.
"No, Papa, you must say 'man and wife'!" corrected Perrie.
"He wrote to tell me that Belle will be making the debutante gown for Miss Cressie Martin for the upcoming Season," Jem continued, his tongue nearly tripping over her name. "She and her mother are in London ... husband hunting."
Grace's lips parted in shock, and Adam's head turned towards them with his brows furrowed.
"And how do you feel about this news, Jemmy?" Grace asked after a moment.
"Sick." Jem couldn't hide the truth. It was most certainly etched all over his face.
Grace recoiled at his blunt answer, but she still appeared terribly sympathetic. By the way Adam did not appear shocked at this revelation made Jem realise that his entire extended family had most definitely been gossiping and fretting about this behind his back.
"Oh, Jem," murmured Grace.
"I came to ask if you knew ... if either of you knew if someone like me could go to London. Can men who are not gentlemen participate? Is it possible to meet with debutantes if you are not a rich lord with ten houses and three hundred servants?"
Adam's face softened and he offered Jem an encouraging smile. "Of course, it is. Half of the aristocracy haven't two shillings to rub together as they manage their fortunes so poorly. The Season is all about connections. Who knows whom? And luckily for you, dear brother-in-law, you happen to have a wonderful connection or two."
"I have only been to London the one time, but when I was there, I can heartily agree. Everybody was concerned about who had the best connections and who could secure them introductions," added Grace. "Quite frankly, I found the whole experience to be very superficial."
"But you would come?" Jem deduced from their explanations. The right connections would see him meet Cressie Martin again. "You would come to London with me?"
An expression of something crossed Grace's face that told Jem she was unsure of the idea. He final statement about London did give off the air that she had not necessarily enjoyed her time there. Perhaps that was the reason she had never ventured into Town since.
But Grace's sympathy returned as she looked to Adam. "What do you think?" she asked him.
"I won't have you do anything you do not wish to," Adam replied. "You will only be two months from delivering our child, as well."
Jem chastised himself for making such a selfish request, having momentarily forgot that his sister was expecting. "Grace, forget I asked," he said dismissively. "Never you mind it."
"No," Grace said forcefully. "No, I think it will be alright. I want to go. I have nothing to be afraid of or ashamed of. Besides, I imagine your mother would enjoy a trip to London for the Season, and I know Cecily will do everything in her power to look after me." Grace's eyes returned to Jem. "And I will do everything in my power to help you and Miss Martin find your way to one another."
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We love a smooth sailing plan because as we know, all goes well and to plan in a Laura story :)
*begins channelling my inner Shonda Rimes behind the scenes*
Nawww I just wanna shake my lil Jemmy and tell him that he doesn't need to change for nobody and the right person will love him just as he is hehehe
And they'll live happily ever after by chapter 5.
Now I'm imagining that scene from The Princess Bride were Valerie (I think that's her name) is screaming "LIAR! LIARRRRRRRRR" hahahahahaha, that's meeeeeeeeee hehehe
But, to London we go! Let's catch up with some old friends and unpack our new ones. And dw, I know you've missed Jack. I've missed him too ;)
Vote and comment!!