Five. A Man in Love
Five
A Man in Love
Tower Hamlets, June 28, 1865
Mrs. Denham Scott, care of The Fountain Hotel,
Portsmouth, Hampshire
June 28, 1865
My most cherished wife,
I opened your first missive to me as husband in both anticipation and dread—I had hoped our next reunion would be a most permanent one! Forces greater than us, however, seem to conspire its delay. I blame myself, firstly, for letting you out of my arms at all. Next, Charlotte—having seven siblings of my own, they make an easy and convenient target. But I only tease: please give her my most sincere brotherly affection. As the eldest myself, I understand your not wanting to leave her high and dry, as you say, given all you have endured together to get here.
My charms also appear to be no match for those of Miss Austen. You write of such a strange mission before you: I picture a straggling crew of Americans abroad, struggling with our different English ways—can one cut, then switch the fork? Is tea hot or cold?—whilst crammed into a Clarence to take in every square inch of ground where your beloved Austen once tread, only to descend upon the Knight family and Chawton Great House with barely a day’s notice. I am surprised that Justice Nash has inexplicably chosen to make the group tomorrow an even odder set, both in number and manner. I wonder if you will end up correct on his intentions regarding my new sister. I shall have to have a word with him, as the head of the family on this side of the ocean.
I would have had you home days ago if I could, but for now, I will draw it for you with words instead. A small but cosy terrace flat on the ground level of Hanbury Street in Tower Hamlets, off Whitechapel, and only a half hour distant from the paper. The landlady assures me that the brand-new water closet is in good working order, and there is a little nook by the front window where you can read, my darling. I have already started a small collection of novels for you from an amusing little bookshop in Bloomsbury, whose owner won it in a game of cards! Imagine what ideas that would give your Miss Gleason!
Across the way from our home is a rather impressive park for this area of London, where I see many pleasant strolls ahead, complete with a pram one day, and perhaps even a dog (whilst I am still the one drawing it all for you!). I have always wanted but could ill afford one (dog, not pram!), with so many other, more pressing, mouths to feed. But you inspire me to be more hopeful for the future than of old. I am only better for your presence and attendance on me, whilst you deserve only the very best.
In endeavouring to hasten your arrival, I shall make plain another, much bolder plan: I have arranged through connections an audition at the New Adelphi for Charlotte this Monday coming, with Fawcett Robinson himself. I am told he is then off as well, to business in Paris. I have no doubt that Charlotte will take the London theatre world by storm, and admit to a selfish interest in securing her companionship for you. And as it would also separate her from “le chaperon,” I would be Daedalus himself, killing two birds at once. You may thank me later, in your wonderful way.…
When you write the details of your return, do tell me more about the admiral. My editor at the Reynolds’s is most intrigued—our readership grows daily and clamours for gossip. Judging by the interest in all things Dickens, I should think any news of Austen would also be of appeal. And the old man sounds quite easy in his dotage, as well as, naturally, entranced by you. The daughter, however, sounds something awful—these women who never express their natural feminine inclination to motherhood and marriage, only to shrink within themselves while suffocating the lives of others.
Do you remember when we first met in private, that day on the Common, you in that lovely red coat—now with your garnet to match, that stone that dangles so temptingly only for me (do I make you blush?)—and Coco nipping about our heels, and you told me you weren’t certain you could ever leave America? Thank you for entrusting me with your happiness, my love. We have our entire lives to spend together, so I suppose I can wait a few more days, as difficult as that is proving to be, to prove my devotion to that worthy end.
Your most affectionate husband,
D.