THE
BRIGHTON TRAVIATA
Introduction
This story is based on characters in Jane Austen’s Persuasion (1818). Chastened and insecure, Mrs. Clay has fled Bath and William Elliot for Brighton, to review her options while maintaining a low profile.
This story was originally written as part of a series of stories to enter a writing contest where the entries had to be about 2,500 words or less. I ended up writing nine, one for each Austen novel, whether finished or unfinished, and submitted three. That total has increased to thirteen Jane Austen-themed stories, and I am currently working on the fourteenth.
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Eliza Boudinot led me through several wearying introductions, but finally over to a tall, broad man in elegant evening attire. His white silk cravat was tied perfectly, his round face clean of shadow, and his curling hair carefully pomaded.
“Violet,” Eliza said, “I would like to present to you one of Papa’s closest friends, Mr. Ormiston.” She turned to him. “Sir, allow me to introduce you to one of my closest friends, Mrs. Clay. Our fathers are solicitors, and have been partners for thirty years.”
“It is a great pleasure, Mrs. Clay.” His bow was as perfect as his appearance, though I saw his teeth were uneven when he smiled. “I am James McNab Ormiston.”
“As it is mine, Sir.” I dropped into a slow, graceful curtsey, and my smile was unforced. I liked the sound of his gentle tenor voice, and his hazel eyes remained upon me as I rose.
“I am sure you will have much to talk about, Violet,” Eliza’s lashes dipped in amusement, “since Mr. Ormiston’s father and brother are solicitors as well.”
“An interesting coincidence.” He brightened.
“I should like nothing more,” I smiled. Eliza responded in kind, then moved off gracefully through the throng.
We chatted and laughed over glasses of punch for several minutes. I heard the orchestra tuning up, and, just as I was hoping he would ask me for at least one dance, he chilled me with a question.
“I apologize for my curiosity, Mrs. Clay, but are you visiting friends here in Brighton, and have you been enjoying the city since you arrived?”
My gaze dropped for a moment. “I arrived only last week,” I replied. I would never reveal that I had fled from Bath, so I let him think I had traveled down from London for social pleasures. “Thank you for asking about my time here. I am happy to say that I have enjoyed myself since I arrived, visiting old friends like Mrs. Boudinot, Mrs. Levexier, the Pitcairns, and the Selkirks. Are you acquainted with any of them?”
“Yes, I am happy to say that I am acquainted with some of them. I have not met Mr. and Mrs. Selkirk, though I believe they are present this evening. I shall endeavor to introduce myself to them.” He brightened again. “Well, since you find Brighton enjoyable, I will be so bold as to suggest you come down as often as you can from London. I try to do so myself.”
“Why, thank you, Mr. Ormiston, and I do agree with you about this agreeable place.” We shared another polite laugh, and then he asked me for two dances. I forgot my anxieties, and gave myself over to the deepest pleasure as we danced.
* * * * *
An ember of pleasure from meeting Mr. Ormiston smoldered into the next morning, though the memory of it warmed me over the next few days. It certainly helped dispel the anxiety I had felt for weeks, since my plans with certain members of the Elliot family failed to come to fruition.
I must laugh at my own dissembling. I was loath to part from Sir Walter Elliot and dear Elizabeth, but I had to quit Bath in a hurried manner. I worried that hints or wisps of my – our – machinations may have floated to London, or even here. I also worried that the Elliots, father and daughter, would think badly of me for my inexplicable, hasty departure, but flee the city I did. That is how I, Violet Anne Clay, eventually arrived here.
I was waiting along the Seawall for Eliza. We had been out walking for some time, and now she was chatting with her friends, Mr. and Mrs. Paige, while I tried to appear pleasant, and calmer than my thoughts.
I did not come directly from Bath, however, for first I traveled to London, to check on my modest lodgings, and visit my widowed father for a couple of days. I dared not tarry in the capital, though, for I feared that William Elliot would easily find me there, so I wrote to Eliza and told her I would arrive in Brighton as quickly as I could.
The Paiges were fine people, but I was tiring of their company. I resented having become a wanderer, driven from Bath and its amusements when my good friend confounded my efforts to secure Sir Walter as my second husband, then abandoned me when our relationship was discovered; in that, I lost another opportunity for Mr. Elliot and I to become more intimate, which I would have welcomed. However, much as he lost his chance to secure Anne Elliot’s hand for his very own, William Elliot seemed to appreciate my charms; I think that in time he may have found me a very pleasant, willing substitute, even if I did not possess the wealth, rank, and breeding of poor Anne. The thought of unlacing my corset for him made my pulse quicken.
Yes, I left one resort town for another, to flee the wrath of the Elliots, Sir Walter, Elizabeth, but even William, for now everyone knew of our aborted plans; and William, I knew, was displeased with me because Anne would not marry him, now that she was engaged to Captain Wentworth. Oh, it was all so very complicated! If only everything had worked out to everyone’s satisfaction, how much happier we all would be now; however, the only one likely to be happy is Anne Elliot. I certainly did not expect to feel so.
As my companions chatted away, I pulled on my gloves and tried to pay attention. A man walking along the strand suddenly stopped and came over to join us. “Why Mrs. Boudinot and Mrs. Clay! How wonderful to see you both again so soon!” It was Mr. Ormiston. I felt waspish, but it is my nature to be pleasing and agreeable, so I smiled at him.
“A fine blustery day is it not?” he continued. “I admire you for walking out in this brisk weather.”
“Thank you, Sir,” I said. “How are you faring today?”
“I am quite well, thank you.” He offered me his arm. “May I interest you and Mrs. Boudinot in a walk along the Seawall? Then I would be happy to offer you both a ride in my carriage, and I could invite you to share luncheon with me – that is, if you are agreeable to this suggestion, and do not have any prior engagements of your own.”
“I would enjoy that very much!” I brightened, my impatient brooding forgotten. “Thank you, Mr. Ormiston!” Finally done with the Paiges, Eliza turned back to us. Pleased at my lightened demeanor, she was grateful for the invitation, but demurred, pleading a prior engagement. I smiled at her little deception, for I knew she had no such engagement; however, she wished to allow me some time alone with this fine gentleman.
“I am so sorry, Mrs. Boudinot. It will be our loss, but I do understand.” He took my arm. “Let us be off then.”
* * * * *
I still thought I would prefer to be back in Bath with Sir Walter and dear Elizabeth, in spite of everything, but I was finding Brighton very attractive and diverting. I looked forward to more amusements now, like the ball given by Isabella Levexier and her husband Peter, a banker, a few nights later after our walk along the strand. I also hoped I would encounter Mr. Ormiston often, so I was very pleased when we met and exchanged greetings at the ball.
“You are a wonderful dancer, Madam,” he praised me during our second dance of the evening.
“Thank you for your compliment, Mr. Ormiston. I must return the favor, and say that I find it is easy, pleasurable, and dutiful to dance well when one has such a steady and accomplished partner to lead her.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Clay!”
“I also find you to be a fine and gallant gentleman,” I continued. I did not care if I overstepped the limits of propriety with that remark, for I was sincere.
He seemed at a momentary loss for words. “I am most grateful for your encomium. I have not enjoyed social events like this for some time, but I am happy to say I no longer feel this way.”
“I am very glad to hear it.”
He almost frowned, but then his expression cleared. “Mrs. Clay?”
“Yes, Mr. Ormiston?”
He cleared his throat. “I know this is already our second dance of the evening. Would you consider granting me a third?” He looked anxious and rather endearing, I thought.
However, his request gave me pause, much as I wished to grant it. It could be just a desire to continue one’s pleasure, but it could also mean more. A third dance suggested the couple was announcing the fact that their relationship was more than platonic. I appreciated his request, but he seemed hesitant enough about what he was asking, and this time I knew I would have to bow to decorous standards and refuse it.
“I am very sorry, Mr. Ormiston, but I am afraid I cannot grant you another dance this evening.” I looked as regretful as I sounded.
“I understand completely,” he replied, abashed. “Of course, a third dance would be unseemly. I had no right to ask you such a question. I do hope you will continue to have faith in my claims to be a gentleman, in spite of my lapse just now.”
“It is quite all right, Mr. Ormiston. I do appreciate your request, and am in no way upset or insulted by it.” I smiled at him. “You remain the gentleman you are.”
“Thank you, Madam!”
I looked down. “Yes, a third dance would be unseemly,” I murmured. I was disappointed, for I would have enjoyed dancing with him again, but I understood his caution. Thank goodness he did not know the reason for my own, as a result of my tangled dealings with the Elliots.
He gave a crooked smile. “Then we will have to hope for another ball soon, so that we can dance together again.”
“I cannot agree more,” I replied, and he laughed.
* * * * *
Yes, there was another ball, given by the Pitcairns, more walks along the Seawall and the strand. How I enjoyed the leisurely drives he took me on in his stylish, jaunty phaeton! I knew I should not be attracting attention, but I felt like a queen of Brighton society, though I was but a hopeless transient. I should be sweeping my surroundings with discreet glances, in case a member of the Elliot family or the Dalrymples suddenly appeared; my situation was precarious indeed. But I cared not for caution, and only desired to spend time with a most desirable man! His fine appearance, manners, and pleasant, intelligent conversation pleased me no end, and I resisted the urge to touch him as I wished. In short, I could not help myself, and did not wish to, or deny myself a moment when we could be together.
Three weeks passed in a whirl of gaiety. This evening we had just finished dining in the Paiges’ elegant home, and the assembled guests sauntered from the hot dining room to the scattered card tables. A large group of people was admitted to the card rooms that had not dined with us, typical of the Paiges’ loose entertaining. I looked forward to playing a number of games, with Mr. Ormiston as my partner for some of them. Of course, I must play with Eliza and Isabella Levexier as well.
“Not playing vingt-un for money, even though the Paiges sometimes do for a pittance? That is a scandal in itself,” Isabella remarked to her chuckling spouse. We all shared a laugh because we knew she enjoyed playing the game, just not gaining lucre.
“The only scandal is that I have the best luck of all of us,” declared Eliza. “Mark my words, tonight I shall win it all.”
While the others protested, her amused eyes flickered over to me. “Go on then, Violet,” she said in a low tone. “I do believe your next partner is awaiting you at another table. Do not tarry with us.”
“Oh, Eliza, do hush!” But I felt a flush moving upward through my body, and my smile grew wider. A minute later I went over and sat at the appropriate table, across from Mr. Ormiston.
“My dear Mrs. Clay.” Of course he had risen as I joined the table, and the Selkirks took the other two chairs.
The next two hours passed in a dizzying montage of candles flickering, heat, drafts from waiving fans, clinking glasses, laughter, and desultory conversation. Crystal everywhere, from the chandeliers, to the mirrors, and even the decanters, shined and reflected the light. I swear I heard every snap and shuffle of the cards. I felt lightheaded, as if I needed to go outside for some air, but then I would look over at Mr. Ormiston, and would feel less oppressed. I still had difficulty deciding how much of my precious coin to bet, but he pretended not to notice and praised every hand I played.
The Paiges did not adhere to strict notions of formality, so the company remained intact after the card games ended; the gentlemen did not abandon the ladies for port and cigars. I had been sitting with the Levexiers when they suddenly abandoned our couch to chat with our hosts. I was content to sit alone for a while, but Mr. Ormiston soon joined me, to my delight.
“How kind of you to join me, Sir.”
“I cannot leave a lady sitting by herself.”
“I thank you. I know you would not.”
“No, I would not.” He paused, looked away, and then turned back to me. How courteous, yet content his smile was! I wanted to stroke his cheek, so I swallowed and reached for my fan instead.
“It is quite sultry in here,” he said with sympathy as he watched me. “Ah, the breeze from your fan is comforting even to me! I hope it is having the effect you desire.”
“I believe that it is.”
He leaned forward, ever so slightly. “Mrs. Clay, I may be precipitous and rash, but I should like to ask you whether I may call on you regularly.”
My heart soared. “I am honored by your request, and happy to grant it. Nothing would please me more.” I relished my rapid conquest of the man, and longed to touch his elegant waistcoat.
“Thank you, dear lady.”
We were both too happy by thoughts of how much more time we would spend together from now on, that we remained silent for several moments. Finally, Mr. Ormiston excused himself to get us glasses of dessert wine. I waited patiently for his return, when a shadow fell over me.
“My dear Mrs. Clay.”
I looked up, startled. William Elliot stood there, dark and smiling. He took my hand in both of his, and raised it to his lips for a long kiss.