Chapter Two

Content warnings can be found here

Serafina sat beside the window and tried to ignore her mother’s subtle cough. It was their morning to receive, but given that it was out of season, and that the Tootings lived out of Town, their parlour was hardly a bustle of activity. In the circumstances, Serafina felt it entirely appropriate to make some headway with a book. 

Unfortunately, what she was reading was a sensible, serious tome on economical household management. The coughing would have been easier to ignore were she getting lost in something more along the lines of one of Mrs Radcliffe’s fictions or - better yet - the edition of Manfred under plain covers on her bedside table. 

Mrs Tooting coughed again.

Serafina tried to focus on the paragraph enumerating the qualities one should seek in a maid of all work.

“Serafina,” her mother said at last, impatient with underhand tactics.

“Yes, madame?”

“While some light needlework is appropriate whilst one awaits visitors, one must not show too much absorption in one’s own pursuits.”

She took the hint and laid down the book, not neglecting the bookmark she had spent last week constructing, describing it as, ‘a Crewel work sampler.’ Really, the result was quite pleasing. 

“Serafina, I don’t wish to keep harping at you. You know I’ve always taken great pride in your scholarly pursuits, but in your situation you cannot afford to overlook the more gaudy, worldly accomplishments, and before you show me that bookmark again, I mean the kind in which gentlemen tend to take pleasure.”

“Madame, I have very little interest in gentlemen who would take a pleasing singing voice over an ounce and half of solid good sense.”

“Still, there is no harm in displaying both, is there?”

 “Some gentlemen,” Serafina emphasised, “have a preference for women who shun such frivolous displays of vanity. They prefer worth that can be measured in effect.”

“Well, yes,” said Mrs Tooting, “but then we have heard rather a lot of Mr Thornton’s opinions on these matters lately, haven’t we? And markedly little of your skill on the pianoforte.”

“I don’t know why you mislike him so, mama. Mr Thornton is a worthy man, and he speaks much of the same sense as you. Besides, surely it is vain teaching a girl in my situation to take too much pleasure in pursuits that may well be beyond her means when she is wed?”

“Not if they enable her to get a man who will not place such things beyond her means.” 

“Surely that cannot be the only purpose of marriage.”

“Serafina, have you been reading sentimental literature again?”

“Of course not, mama. I would not any such thing that you had so expressly forbidden.”

Mrs Tooting pursed her lips and looked hard at her daughter. “And how does Mr Thornton feel about that manner of impertinence?”

“Our minds are in such agreement in so many matters, madame, that I can’t imagine him deriving any displeasure from it.”

Her mother did not quite manage to contain her laugh. “Really, you are not too old for a spoonful of castor oil.” She laid down her own work. “And, dear child, while I understand your preference, even your attachment, it will not do to count yourself so secure of him. Has Mr Thornton made any declaration?”

Serafina recalled a thousand little signs: the closeness, the whispering, the press of his hand at the end of a dance. “No, madame. He has been nothing but proper. Nothing that steps outside the bounds of usual courtesy.”

“And you must know that, even if he had, your father would never consent to the match. Don’t you see, then, dear, that you cannot afford to show a preference so marked? You have no end of admirers, yet you pay them so little mind. Why, merely as an exemplar, there was a most attractive gentleman at that Lady N---’s who paid you very particular attention. I have heard tell he is of excellent family, the son of a baronet. Yet you treated him with the greatest disregard.”

“Did I, mama?”

 “Child, do you even recall his name?”

Serafina crossed her feet at the ankle and resisted the temptation to pick up her book. “I confess I do not.”

“Quite. And that will have injured his pride, my dear, and if you hurt a man’s pride, he will never come back to you. Therefore, while Mr Thornton has made himself charming to us all, he has not made a positive declaration, and thus it is foolhardy to alienate men who would otherwise look upon you kindly.”

“I have no desire to gain a reputation as a flirt, madame.”

“There is no flirtation if you remain within the bounds of propriety, my dear. I’m sure I can count upon you to do that.”

“And if I have no inclination to do so?”

“To stay within the bounds of propriety, or to make yourself agreeable to gentlemen of your acquaintance?”

She smiled, “Either, madame.”

“Then, all I can say is that there is very little nobility to be found in poverty.” Mrs Tooting sighed. “It’s all very well for poets to harp on about the virtue of it, but as far as I understand, their begging letters are generally their most eloquent compositions.”

Serafina said nothing.

Mrs Tooting set down her work. “Oh, do let’s not quarrel. I understand your partiality, but you must not permit it to blind you. There are many other sensible young men who would be able to give you comfort, security and - no, don’t pout so - happiness.”

“By which you imply men of rather more substantial means.”

“While Mr Thornton is a very proper man,” her mother said, “and unquestionably decent, he is not, in the strictest sense, a gentleman.”

“But he has great prospects, mama.”

“You only call me mama, Serafina, when you are trying to get around me.”

“But mother, please, what is a gentleman? You speak as though we are of some ancient lineage, unsoiled by trade. I freely admit Mr Thornton has neither land, nor leisure. But his profession is respectable, his prospects good. More, he has sensitivity of spirit, discernment, good sense! Besides which, the things he has won, mama, have been earned by his own labours.”

“So does a farmer, my dear, that does not make him the most fitting prospect.”

“Mama...”

“No, Serafina. I have taken great care in rearing you, in circumstances that have at times been trying. More, I am proud of you - you are a woman of discernment and sensibility. But I fear none of Mr Thornton’s good sense or careful manners would appeal so much were he an ugly man, dear. A handsome face can be a dangerous thing, and caused too many girls to marry gallant soldiers, or handsome naval captains, only to find themselves leading lives of drudgery with coarse-mannered brutes who will never value their fine qualities. Or, clutching but the memories of a hero lost at sea.”

“There’s not much danger of that at the Treasury, madame.”

 “My point remains. In his small lodgings, what outlet will there be for your bookishness? If he were to go back to banking, and take a branch at a regional bank, would your Town manners serve you among vulgar, provincial wives?”

“No, madame.” Then, with renewed vehemence, “Yet I cannot but feel your concerns are baseless as far as Mr Thornton is concerned. Perhaps his circumstances are reduced, but he has had a gentleman’s education. His people were really of a class very little different than our own, until-”

“I hope you are not about to relay to me some information that was imparted in confidence, my dear,” her mother said lightly, her eyes upon her work.

“Not strictly in confidence, madam.”

“Nevertheless, prudence requires me to change the subject.”

Serafina had been trained much too well to sigh in exasperation. “But if he should address me, mama?”

“Then we shall converse again. But, my dear, do not hold out too much hope. Mr Thornton is well aware of his presumption in this matter. He has no right to lead you to entertain vain hopes. If he truly is a man of such sensitivity and discretion, then he will withdraw his suit.”

“But I love him.” She could not stop herself from saying it. 

Mrs Tooting only smiled, “You are almost a child in these matters. At your age, dear, I was in love half a dozen times a day.”

“Mama...”

But the footman announced, “Mr Thornton, ma’am.”