The story of and Rosamond Oliver from Miss Oliver's point of view.
St John is determined to sacrifice all to his missionary ambitions but love is stronger and more complex than he realised.
I have based this first chapter around dialogue from the original novel, however the dialogue/speech in the next chapter will be my own.
Enjoy!
It was a pleasant evening; the sun just setting above the moors cast on the spread of bronze heather and heath a deeper hue of golden lustre, which blended softly with the prettily shaded sky; full of pinks and bright oranges. I walked quickly up the incline of the vale and along a track bordering the fields. The air seemed alive with birdsong and I could hear the gay bleating of lambs somewhere in the distance. It was, I thought, the perfect night for a walk.
I was on my way to see the new school mistress at Morton school, as Papa had told me she was come. I had an interest in visiting the school and its new mistress besides that of philanthropy or neighbourly kindness, for I knew it to be a particular project of Mr Rivers, and I delighted in his every act! His deeds of christian charity especially, seemed to me another proof of his estimable character and good heart.
My spirits were high as I had only that morning quitted S— where I had spent my time dancing and talking with the charming and lively —th regiment. They were very good company; their quick, witty conversation, and gallant manner made them the most agreeable dancing partners in the room. Indeed they were extremely handsome, though theirs was a dark, bold, sort of good looks, not so captivating as my St. John's ethereal beauty.
The dancing had lasted into the early hours of the morning and I myself was scarcely glad to stop when I did at 2.o'clock a.m. It had been a welcome change from the usual gathering of tradesman from around Morton and I was still feeling the excitement from the night before as I made my way along the little lanes; everything was happy, and gay, and full of vivacity.
With my steps hastened by curiosity and a merry disposition, it was not long before the little school building came into view. It was a small rustic building that had once been a barn, but St John had renovated it along with the adjoining cottage—in which I had aided him in overseeing the furnishings and other domestic details. The old dishevelled barn now looked perfectly neat and orderly standing at the bottom of the long field.
It was a pleasant surprise to see St John standing with the lady by the gate. Carlo lay at his feet and I saw his old ears prick as he sensed me coming.
The lady at St John's side was a little short in stature, slightly built, with brown hair tied at the back of her head in simple braids, her light grey dress was un-embellished and prim; she was not impressive, neither was she ugly, she would perhaps be best described as plain—a very proper looking school mistress—nevertheless there was something I liked in her appearance, a kindness in her mien that pleased me and made me want to know more of her.
She too had her back to me, facing westward at the view of the setting sun with St John; I called out to him—" Good evening Mr Rivers and good evening old Carlo," I added playfully.
Mr Rivers did not turn from the view he was admiring ; I continued—" Your dog is quicker to recognise his friends than you are, sir; he pricked his ears and wagged his tail when I was at the bottom of the field, " I paused a little, still he did not turn to greet me," and you have your back toward me now," I said in a slightly disappointed tone, urging him to be cordial and friendly.
I approached the gate and bent down to pet Carlo, wrapping my arms around the old dog's velvety neck; his cheerful barks were far more welcoming than his master's stony silence.
I felt Mr Rivers finally turn to me and I lifted my veil and looked up at him, smiling. His features were as perfect as they ever had been; statuesque, faultless, and angelic, and his pale blue eyes, though they did not stay long on me before peering downwards at the floor, were enchanting, and looked so clear and profound that it appeared as though their depth might have been limitless.
A patch of white daisies, it seemed, were a far more pleasing prospect than myself, for on these delicate beauties Mr Rivers now fixed his azure eyes and did not even look up at me when he spoke.
" A lovely evening, but late for you to be out alone," he said.
I did not agree—the sun was not yet set and I could see no danger likely befall me in the humble Vale of Morton—at any rate, I had been intrigued to see the new school mistress and had hopes of making a companion of Mr Rivers on my return journey home; surely there could be no more reliable escort! Still, Mr River's watchful tone seemed to demand an explanation; " Oh, I only came home from S— this afternoon," I replied, "Papa told me you had opened your school, and that the new mistress was come; and so I put on my bonnet after tea, and ran up the valley to see her: this is she?" I added pointing to the lady a few paces from his side.
"It is," St John answered in reply. I turned to the neat looking lady.
"Do you think you shall like Morton?" I asked
"I hope I shall. I have many inducements to do so." She answered.
An odd reply, I thought, and rather in the manner of St John ; rationally spoken and considered, though not unfriendly.
"Did you find your scholars as attentive as you expected?"I continued.
"Quite."
"Do you like your house?"
"Very much."
"Have I furnished it nicely?"
"Very nicely, indeed."
Not one for conversation, I supposed, she seems to answer every question in three words or less.
"And made a good choice of an attendant for you in Alice Wood ?" I inquired. I had chosen a local girl whose father worked for papa, she was not very handsome, but sweet and hard working, and I was keen to know if I had made the right decision.
"You have indeed. She is teachable and handy."
I smiled and was pleased that my efforts had been a success.
"I shall come up and help you teach sometimes," I added, eager to enliven my day with a new occupation, and looking forward to the probability of seeing more often,"It will be a change for me to visit you now and then; and I like a change." Turning back to Mr Rivers who still stood examining the daisies I continued, "Mr Rivers I have been so gay during my stay in S—. Last night, or rather this morning, I was dancing till two o'clock . The —th regiment are stationed there since the riots; and the officers are the most agreeable men in the world: they put all our young knife-grinders and scissor-merchants to shame," I laughed . I suppose I wished to inspire a little jealousy in him; I thought it might rouse him from his somber mood.
It certainly seemed to have an effect upon him, as he turned very stern and brooding, and lifted his eyes from the daisies to me; his gaze was hard, and cold.
I laughed again—it seemed the best answer to such an unnaturally solemn stare. Still he stood with the same expression, unrelenting and uninviting, and I thought that his clear blue eyes appeared more than ever like ice.
His strange silence and gaze quelled my laughter and made me uncomfortable; I bent down again and caressed Carlo to avoid them.
"Poor Carlo loves me," I said,"He is not stern and distant to his friends; and if he could speak, he would not be silent."
Mr Rivers had always been rather reserved, but I was surprised that evening by his diffident coldness towards me; indeed, he had of late been less frequent in his visits to papa and somewhat shorter in his conversation, and it hurt not a little to see him so stern.
"Papa says you never come to see us now," I said, looking up,"You are quite a stranger at Vale Hall. He is alone this evening, and not very well: will you return with me and visit him?"
"It is not a seasonable hour to intrude on Mr Oliver," he answered.
"Not a seasonable hour! But I declare it is. It is just the hour when Papa most wants company: when the works are closed, and he has no business to occupy him. Now, Mr Rivers, do come. Why are you so very shy, and so very sombre?"
He did not answer my question, and it suddenly crossed my mind that I had been very impertinent and very unthinking—how could I have forgotten! Mr Rivers' father had so lately passed away, and his sisters so lately left Moor House; Mr Rivers had much cause to be sombre!
"I forgot!" I exclaimed shocked at my own heedlessness,"I am so giddy and thoughtless! Do excuse me. It slipped my memory that you have good reasons to be indisposed for joining in my chatter . Diana and Mary have left you, and Moor House is shut up, and you are so lonely. I am sure I pity you. Do come and see Papa."
"Not to-night, Miss Rosamund, not to-night."
His refusal, though gently spoken was resolute and I could see that to urge him further would be in vain.
"Well, if you are so obstinate, I will leave you; for I dare not stay any longer: the dew begins to fall. Good-evening!"
I offered my hand to him, he held it with his own, though it was but a phantom of a touch; light and brief.
"Good-evening," he echoed—and it was truly as little as an echo; so strangely low and insubstantial his voice sounded. I turned away, but fearing by the unnatural quality of his voice and the parlour of his complexion that Mr Rivers might be unwell I returned.
"Are you well?" I asked.
"Quite well," and with a bow he turned and began to walk away down the steep, and uneven track back to Moor House while I took my own opposite path home. I looked after him when I reached the meadow, and hoped he might glance back at me, but he never did.
This will hopefully be a multi-chapter story when I have time; I will be very slow in updating until around the end of June. Reviews are always very appreciated, as is constructive criticism. Thanks for reading! If you have any little plots you would like to happen feel free to PM me, I'm welcome to suggestions but if I don't use them it's not because I don't like them I probably just have something else that I've set my mind on!
Thanks!