Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Jasmine woke up to the sound of a seagull’s cry and stretched before her window. What a lovely day! The sun’s brightening rays held hope for a promising garden party. For one brief second, Mr. Dilbert intruded into her thoughts but not even the looming cloud of his presence could ruin the picture. Fortitude to bear him would come in the form of the stalwart Captain Laurence.

Though Jasmine only spent an unwelcome moment thinking of him, Mr. Dilbert had spent his whole evening pondering her. Even though all the sisters were lovely and talented, he could sense Miss Bertram’s superiority. She would be the fortunate daughter. He had memorized the most flattering speeches to use at the appropriate times. In his arrogance, he only allowed himself six days for courtship before returning to the parish. Should not this prove sufficient for his task? Had not God created all things in six days? What was winning a young girl’s heart compared to that? How daunting could such a simple thing be? He felt confident he could secure her parent’s approval and sweep Miss Bertram off her feet in the allotted period.

In his enthusiasm, Laurence arrived at the vicarage sooner than expected, was greeted by a servant, and directed to the vicar’s study. The den was brightly lit and had three windows that faced the back garden. The rich mahogany desk and chairs accented a room made for practical use. One entire wall was covered by an enormous bookshelf from top to bottom. Laurence had only a second to scan some of the theological titles.

“I trust you slept well, Captain,” said Rev. Bertram as he stood from his desk and went over and gave him a friendly handshake.

“Very well, sir.”

“No dark dreams for your sunny disposition?” the vicar probed.

Laurence paused before replying. Jasmine’s father had every right for his inquiry. He was still pretty much a stranger to them. “I’ve had my share of nightmares, I suppose. Anyone fighting a war would block out certain pictures, if he could.”

Rev. Bertram looked at him compassionately. “I hope from this home only good memories will be added to your storehouse.”

Laurence smiled to himself. It was certainly turning out that way.

“Tell me about your family and your upbringing.”

Laurence dove in and hardly came up for air. Rev. Bertram was a sympathetic listener and Laurence found himself sharing more than information—he revealed his heart and his struggles.

“I understand your shock and grief over your father’s death. I also lost my father at a critical time in my life,” Rev. Bertram said. Laurence did not inquire and the vicar continued. “I loved him very much. He died in a hunting accident. I was only fourteen at the time.”

“Do you still miss him?” Laurence whispered.

“Yes. I used to think that time would lessen the loss but I don’t believe it does.”

Both men made eye contact and a common bond was immediately felt. A moment later a servant entered and announced that breakfast was being served.

They found everyone seated at the table but Jasmine.

“I suppose my eldest is looking for a pair of shoes as usual,” said Rev. Bertram. Laurence bit the corner of his lip to suppress a chuckle.

“She is notoriously late, but you are probably already acquainted with this,” he said turning to the captain.

All Laurence could do was nod his head slightly. He did not know if a more exaggerated movement would be in poor taste. He had hardly known Jasmine a moment before he found out she was late for something.

The object of his thoughts came breezily into the room and apologized for her tardiness. She sat down opposite him and mouthed the words, “They match.” Laurence was tempted to look under the table and confirm the truth with his own eyes. Right now, however, her shoes would have to wait for there was more to notice than her feet. She glowed in white muslin and a blue satin ribbon on the high waist empress style gown was its only color. He saw her hair up for the first time.

Laurence was looking forward to having an enjoyable day, but had not expected to find amusement so early in the morning. By hints, looks, and outright display, he realized Mr. Dilbert was setting his sights on Jasmine. He was not jealous. Being aware of her disposition toward suitors, he knew Mr. Dilbert’s affections would suffer an early death. He was curious, though, to see what method Jasmine would use to dispatch him.

Rev. Bertram watched the salvos aimed at Mr. Dilbert by his eldest daughter and observed that the curate’s skin was much thicker than he had, at first, surmised. Besides flattery, this was also helpful for anyone attempting ministry and the vicar inwardly congratulated him. His beloved daughter tried several times to get his attention by her glances, but the good Reverend chose to ignore her pleading eyes. She had to learn how to deal with persistent suitors on her own.

Jasmine made another attempt but chose a more pliable object. She began to work on Captain Laurence. Maybe he would come to her rescue and draw Mr. Dilbert’s attention away from her. But to her dismay, Captain Laurence seemed to be of the same mind as her father. Had they made some secret pact to frustrate her? Three men sat at the table and all of them were proving an irritation so early in the morning.

She sighed in exasperation and Laurence turned his head just in time toward Rev. Bertram so she could not see his smile.

Laurence brought his coach and Jasmine thought she would have some blessed relief when Mr. Dilbert’s request dashed all her hopes.

“Pray, Captain Laurence, may I ride with you since the other one is too full for me to sit comfortably?” Mr. Dilbert was busy with calculations. He felt in his heart that Miss Bertram would infinitely prefer him, as a clergyman, to a sea captain. She was the daughter of an Anglican vicar, after all.

Laurence nodded his acceptance. He could not refuse such a request, and secretly had no wish to. Though he was enjoying himself immensely, he did feel momentarily guilty at being entertained at Jasmine’s expense, but friendship comes gift-wrapped with such privileges, teasing and getting even are part of the package.

Jasmine sat on one side of the seat while the two gentlemen sat on the other. Laurence could feel her penetrating eyes boring into him, but he did not want to give away his secret delight so he kept a steady gaze on Mr. Dilbert. The young curate was hardly pausing for breath in his long-winded speeches on the wonders of nature, and needed no participant in his accounting as he performed magnificently on his own. He soared the heights and plunged the depths of God’s creation. Surely, he surmised, Miss Bertram would be moved, but he could not have missed the intended target of her heart more than if blindfolded.

Glancing out his window, Mr. Dilbert spied some mushrooms and went off on a wild tirade of their culinary delights. Laurence chanced a glance at Jasmine and saw her mouth the words, “I’ll get even.” He looked down, she had caught him. He had known this woman less than twenty-four hours and she was already reading his mind. He had to apply more caution. So far, to his knowledge, only Rev. Bertram and his eldest daughter had this trait. What would happen to him if the rest of the family displayed such prowess?

From the moment he sat down to breakfast, he had been trying to contain his laughter. If things continued any longer with Mr. Dilbert’s soliloquies and Jasmine’s facial reactions, he was going to burst aloud. Fortunately, his torment would not last long for Hamilton House was only five miles from the vicarage.

They drove up to a three-story Georgian mansion dressed in a tan stone façade. White Greek sculptures graced the pathway onto the greens. Jasmine looked out curiously. She needed some diversion from Mr. Dilbert’s running commentary that was now branching off into botany. Everything looked too perfect for her. She loved landscaping to have a natural appearance, and did not like to see the innate wildness of shrubs and trees become too contained or controlled. It reflected back on her intense desire for freedom.

As the coach pulled to a stop, the only one who seemed disappointed by their arrival was Mr. Dilbert, who was in fine form while discussing the beauty of a blasted tree.

Jasmine felt like blasting someone. Mr. Dilbert’s clumsy courtship tried her temper. She drew a deep breath and left the coach gratefully.

Laurence walked a few paces toward a slight incline for a better view of the grounds. He also wanted to observe Jasmine and Mr. Dilbert without his presence causing any distractions.

“Captain Laurence?” An unfamiliar voice behind him interrupted his thoughts.

Laurence turned around and saw a middle-aged man of average height in an ostentatious coat marked by too much lace and too much embroidery. It may be in place at St. James Court but definitely not at a lawn party. His coifed, thinning, brown hair looked contrived. His appearance, air and speech exuded his perceived superiority.

“Yes,” Laurence replied. He was about to extend his hand in greeting but realized that would be taking liberties with a man like Sir George, never mind that Sir George had taken liberties by addressing him without a proper introduction.

“I knew it! I have a sense about people right away. I received a note earlier this morning from the vicar about your interest in some of my property.”

Laurence nodded in the affirmative and that was all the encouragement Sir George needed. He waited patiently for the man to introduce himself, but the baronet rambled on about his lineage, landholdings and mansions.

Jasmine and Mr. Dilbert waited by the carriages for her family’s arrival. While the captain’s coach had made good time, her parents lagged behind. She could not use them as cover and had to think of another means of camouflage. Most of the people she saw were strangers to her. She heard a few accents and realized that people had traveled a great distance for this gathering. Fine dresses, bonnets, feathers, fans and parasols—all the accoutrements necessary for women of high bred society were on display. With all the fusion of colors and patterns, Jasmine felt as if she were at a circus. Looking for someone familiar besides Mr. Dilbert, she turned around and saw Captain Laurence conversing with Sir George as they walked up a slight slope.

Mr. Dilbert was buzzing about her like an annoying fly as she busily thought how to shoo him away. She decided to follow Captain Laurence and Sir George, and reasoned that the view from the top of the hill might provide the necessary means of escape. She would spy out the land to see if it showed any promise.

“I shall attend you and take care of your every wish,” said Mr. Dilbert puffing out of breath as they climbed.

Jasmine saw Sir George and Captain Laurence deep in conversation while walking down the incline. They were heading toward a green that was set up for archery. A table with bows and arrows had a few bushes and trees around it providing the necessary shade. It would give her the perfect cover she needed from Mr. Dilbert. Her mind was in full gear as she planned her escape.

Sir George was in good humor. In Captain Laurence, he saw a man of taste and wealth who would be able to relieve him of some financial embarrassment. The note he received from the vicar was a godsend. He watched the arriving coaches with heightened expectation and had the captain within his sight like a hound on a fox.

“I hope you don’t mind, Captain Laurence, but I promised two young ladies a demonstration in archery. It is a little hobby of mine,” said Sir George smugly.

Laurence did not mind, he had a passion for all sports of weaponry. “I shall be delighted to watch,” he said with genuine interest.

Jasmine spied this from above and wanted to join them desperately. “Mr. Dilbert, since you wish to assist me, could you get me a glass of punch?” she asked sweetly.

She knew he would have to walk down the hill and back up in order to find her. Many distinguished people were strolling about the lawn, and since the refreshments were on tables closer to the house, it would take him more than a few minutes to complete his assignment.

“Your wish is my command.”

Jasmine rolled her eyes at the overdone cliché. She wished she had the nerve to command him to go back to his parish. She ran through a cover of bushes as soon as he was out of sight, and breathlessly approached the archery table from a different side.

“Ah, Miss Bertram is running away from suitors again, I see,” said Sir George expressionless.

The two ladies giggled.

Sir George was his own brand of oddity: one could not tell if he was being witty or serious. Unmarried at thirty-five, he fancied himself the last word on issues he knew nothing about. He had never pursued a woman in his life, since he secretly felt he was in a class all his own.

Sir George, with some pomposity, took a bow and fitted an arrow while addressing the ladies as if they knew nothing of the sport. His arrow hit second row from the bulls-eye. It was only a fair shot, but he had to make more of it. “Well, I suppose it is not too bad considering the distance. Now would any lady like to try?”

Jasmine paused for a second out of politeness. She could clearly see by the disdain on the faces of the other two women that they thought archery beneath their dignity. She was more than happy to reply in the affirmative, whereupon, Sir George picked the bow and arrow and taught her the stance.

“No, straighten your bow arm,” he said as he proceeded to tap her arm with an arrow, using it as a guide. “Yes, that’s better! Now aim for the circle in the center,” he finished.

Jasmine wore an angry flush as her arrow struck only a few inches from true center. Everyone gasped but Laurence. As she turned and asked for a different bow, Laurence noticed with admiration that she chose the best one for her weight and height. She strung it herself and put an arm guard on.

By this time, it was dawning on Sir George that Jasmine was something of an expert. Her arrow hit even closer to center as further proof. She fitted another arrow quickly, aimed carefully and it hit a fraction’s distance from her last arrow. She fitted one more but Mr. Dilbert’s sudden, whining voice caused her to miss the target. The arrow landed in the grass a few inches from his left foot. He gasped and fell in a heap on the ground. John Dilbert had fainted. Sir George ordered two servants to carry him to a nearby bench with instructions to prevent any further spells.

Laurence suddenly turned to Sir George and the ladies. “I feel I must redeem my masculinity from fainting fits and arrows shot wide of the mark.”

Only a twinkle in his eyes betrayed any mirth. Jasmine read him perfectly and turned her head to hide a smile. She watched curiously as he aimed and the arrow hit perfectly in the center. Jasmine was impressed, only her father could beat her in archery. Laurence fitted another arrow, which she thought senseless since nothing could improve his last shot. She was wrong. Laurence split his arrow.

Jasmine stared at him in disbelief as she went up to the target with the others. “Captain Laurence has won for his gender! No one can make a shot like that, not even my father who was captain of his archery team at Oxford. I salute you, sir!” she said with an exaggerated bow.

Laurence nodded his head slightly to acknowledge her tribute. He had never split one before and was as surprised as Jasmine. The others began praising him.

With his confidence restored by Captain Laurence, Sir George upbraided Miss Bertram of her aim of Mr. Dilbert’s feet.

“Sir, I did not come here for exhibition or to embarrass you. I shot to communicate that what I aim for—I get, and what I don’t aim for, I don’t get,” Jasmine said defiantly.

At that very moment, Mr. Dilbert began rousing from his faint. Jasmine had a wicked thought and proceeded with it.

Laurence watched the workings in her mind. He knew she was up to something. Her face was too mischievous for innocence. She still had the bow and arrow in her hand as she proceeded up to Mr. Dilbert.

When he saw her, thus approaching, he lost all sense of decorum and ran from her screaming, “No more arrows, Miss Bertram! No more arrows!”

She pursued him. What a switch! It was the sweetest sensation to have a man running from her. Justice was long overdue: the scales had finally tipped in her favor. God had given her the opportunity—she would be an utter fool to waste it. Now she could get even with all the suitors who had plagued her. Poor Mr. Dilbert was simply the wrong man at the wrong time, but he would have to suffice.

People were shocked by the sight. This provided necessary entertainment for some since, only moments before, a few had been saying how boring lawn parties were getting.

Mr. Dilbert’s wish had come to fruition. Some very prominent people from London were there, and he would get the attention he craved, though not in the manner he would have chosen.

In mid-flight, some form of common sense seemed to penetrate his head. It may be possible to outrun Miss Bertram, but he could never outdistance her arrows. He checked himself and turned toward her. It was the bravest thing he had ever done in his life.

“I must leave right away! I must get my baggage! I must see your father!” he yelled to her as if she were deaf.

No amount of apology could soften the impact of Miss Jasmine’s arrow, and she decided to give the man some dignity and stopped her pursuit. She did not know it at the time, but not only did she rid herself of an annoying suitor, she also protected her sisters as well. Mr. Dilbert would not connect himself in any way to a family whose daughters used such weapons. He had grown insight—his life meant more than the prospect of ten thousand pounds.

Jasmine doused her laughter but could not extinguish her smile. She did not think the man capable of such speed. Mr. Dilbert ran to her parents as if they were a fortress of protection. She turned around and saw Captain Laurence and Sir George approaching.

If Laurence had trouble containing his laughter earlier in the morning, his task was now colossal. It required a strength and discipline he had only used before in fighting. He never expected to apply it for such an occasion.

Rev. Bertram and his wife approached with the curate hiding in their shadow.

Sir George, who always had a heart for a fellow sufferer, commented to the beleaguered man. “I say, you look quite done in. You must not exert yourself further. Allow me to help you; my carriage is available at your convenience.”

Mr. Dilbert nodded his head like a reed blowing in the wind and mopped his brow. A servant led the chastised man away to the carriage house.

Rev. Bertram waited discretely for their retreat before correcting his wayward one.

“My dear, you are turning to desperation. Is no man safe? You are now getting rid of suitors with bow and arrows? Where did you get your inspiration?”

“I’m afraid I got carried away. It must have been the heat of the moment,” she blushed shamefacedly.

“Cupid’s arrow held no potion for you? Alas, I fear love was not on your mind. I can only reason your aim had to do with your aversion to shoes. Mr. Dilbert should be thankful you have no vest fetish. I have never seen a man more frightened in my life!”

The twinkle never left his eyes. Mrs. Bertram looked away from her husband and daughter. Laurence sensed a dam of laughter would soon be breaking.

“I am sorry, father, I didn’t mean to frighten him that much…only a little.” She handed her bow and arrow contritely to her father.

Sir George was relieved to see them in the hands of a man again. What he lacked in wit he made up for in wisdom. He would never volunteer to show a woman the skill of archery again. If Jasmine only knew she had taken care of two birds with one stone she would have been amazed. Unbeknownst to her, Sir George had begun to notice her. Even his company of one was beginning to bore him. Now he was deathly afraid of her. That one arrow served her with great economy.

“There, there, my child! This has been a day of flights: the flight of my daughter from Mr. Dilbert; the flight of my daughter’s arrow toward Mr. Dilbert; and the eventual flight of Mr. Dilbert himself,” the vicar said with forlorn voice.

Mrs. Bertram could contain herself no longer and walked hastily toward a garden pathway. Jasmine was gasping for air, and Laurence turned away with his shoulders shaking from suppressed laughter.

Sir George’s lack of humor made it impossible for him to understand Rev. Bertram’s true light. “I pity you, sir, if your daughter is now given over to bow and arrow to manage her suitors. I fear this is one daughter who will never wed.”

Rev. Bertram wisely steered Sir George on to a different subject and watched his daughter and Captain Laurence running toward some trees.

They broke down before they could reach them and their laughter spilled over everyone within distance. They found a bench surrounded by bushes, sat down, and grabbed their sides for the pain of laughter.

“To see you advancing on poor Mr. Dilbert as he screamed out, ‘No more arrows, Miss Bertram, no more arrows!’ is more than a person can bear.”

Laurence wiped tears from his eyes. He had never witnessed a more comical sight. The heat of their laughter cooled until they chanced a glance at each other—then the volcano erupted again.

“It was wicked of me, I know. Yet I was vexed, something drastic had to be done.”

“Is this a new method or an old and tested one?”

“I have never used this one before,” she said dryly, “but if you vex me, you know enough of my ability to be warned ahead of time.” She cocked an eyebrow at him and he shivered with suppressed delight.

“Say no more, my lady, you have put the fear into me,” he chuckled affectionately. He enjoyed sparring with her. He thought nothing could surpass the first day he met her, but every day brought new surprises. Jasmine and her family were his treasure. Like a pirate hoarding his gold, he would not carelessly divulge where his hidden troves lie.

At the supper table that evening, Rev. Bertram stood and made a formal announcement. He used such a solemn voice that Laurence thought it had to be of some importance.

“We have had an eventful day of epic proportions. It is far too rare to waste on muddled memories.”

“Hear! Hear!” cried his daughters in response.

“Father, I propose we record the events in verse while everything is still fresh in our minds,” said Jasmine with equal sobriety.

“An excellent suggestion, my dear!” he smiled warmly at her. “What say you to this title, ‘The Reflections of a Day Spent at a Lawn Party’?”

Laurence was about to laugh but cut it short when he saw how seriously the rest of the family was taking this assignment. Obviously, what was novel to him was not new to them. Knowing the nature of the family, satire would be the content. He glanced around as each member of the family raised their hands in vote and fugitively he lifted his own in the air. He found an available desk, pen, paper, and prayed for inspiration. Engrossed, he did not hear the sounding bell until Jasmine came to fetch him.

“It is fine if you have not finished. Read what you have written,” she told him as they entered the parlor.

A sense of expectancy filled the air as Mrs. Bertram sat ready to compile the yet to be declared famous works.

Rev. Bertram stood up to speak. “Captain Laurence, since this is your first time, you have the option not to share.”

“No sir, I want to face every challenge with a ready attitude,” he said firmly.

Rev. Bertram smiled at Laurence approvingly. He read his on “The Pitiful State of Raising Daughters.” Much clapping and laughter rewarded him.

“Father, your pathetic voice and looks made it funnier,” added Daisy.

Mrs. Bertram read hers next on “Themes and Variations of a Wild Pastor,” her husband coughed and cleared his throat through much of it.

Jasmine then stood and crossed her hands in front of her in recital fashion. She cleared her throat and began with theatrical voice…

The Flight of Mr. Dilbert

He could not be discouraged in his pursuit.

Not all the poison in the garden could spoil his fruit.

Icy stare and cold reply were simply lost on him.

No matter what she did, she could never win.

Until one day, she chanced to spy,

an ointment in the soup to rid this fly.

A bow and arrow might do the trick.

He was approaching so she would have to move quick.

The arrow missed his foot by a little bit.

He fell upon the ground in a hysterical fit.

But just to make sure he understood,

she approached him again with some pointy wood.

The flight of the arrow…what a lovely sight!

It sent the flight of Mr. Dilbert to other heights!

Shouts of “Bravo, Bravo!” rang out while Jasmine bowed in melodramatic fashion. It was soon replaced by “Get off the stage!” and “Let someone else get a chance!” by her sisters.

Next, Rose read hers entitled “The Lack of Suitable Suitors,” while her sisters nodded their heads sympathetically.

Now, if Jasmine was the ham of the family, Laurence noticed that Violet was the shy one. Nevertheless, she gamely read hers entitled “On My Sister’s Blindness,” an obvious play of Milton’s work.

Daisy finally went up and read hers on “Horses.” Though the poem had little to do with the day, it was her favorite subject.

Laurence was impressed by all the recitals. Here was a family enjoying life and each other, salvaging good out of a situation and looking on the brighter side of things. His thirsty soul drank deeply of their delights.

He stood and walked to the front of the room. Every eye was locked on him. He wiped his sweaty hand on his trousers while the other one held his poem.

“I wanted to be humorous, but felt too deeply about all of you to be comedic. I did not write about the lawn party. I wanted to express what you mean to me.”

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

My Home Away From the Sea

Do you know I have found a treasure?

It’s not in silver, gold nor pearls.

It is where laughter is like breathing the air,

where love softens every eye.

It wraps around my soul like a forgotten lullaby.

I see the treasure and know all the pearls:

a father and mother like oysters surrounding their four little girls.

But their hearts are wide open to welcome me…

away from my wanderings, away from sea.

I never thought it was possible.

I never imagined it could be -

that a home would have a calling

as strong as my love for the sea.

There was nothing but silence as he handed his paper to Mrs. Bertram. She held his hand and said in a choked voice, “We will honor this, my son.”

Laurence looked into her face and the others and there was not a dry eye in the room, including his own.

Rev. Bertram stood up and said, “On that sweet note, let us prepare for Sabbath tomorrow. Captain Laurence, would you join us in our family pew?”

“I would be honored, sir.” He bowed and bid them goodnight.