~ Treasures From An Earthen Pot ~

by

Margaret Birks and Jean Rosser

Isabella sat in Lawrence’s dining room and, as she looked around, she experienced one of those moments which most people have once or twice in their lives when, for a short time, all one’s senses seem to work together to produce a picture which lives on vividly in the mind for ever. The table was the focal point of her vision; a long rectangle of wood, highly polished, and so dark it appeared black, in which the flames of the tall white candles were reflected sharply. The wine glasses glittered and the silver sparkled. Rachel had just served the soup and Isabella imagined she could distinguish the smell of each individual vegetable. The steam from the soup rose like mist on a cold clear evening, and although a fire burned in the hearth, the atmosphere in the room seemed wintry.

Lawrence sat at one end of the table, appearing distinguished but austere in his black coat. Isabella sat on his left, then Doctor Carter, dapper as always, but silent, anxiety clouding his eyes. Hannah and Jacob, unable to hide their discomfort, sat very close together. Isabella fancied she could hear their quick shallow breathing, perfectly synchronised, as they looked neither to right nor to left. Annie came next, and seemed reassuringly normal as she turned from an unsuccessful attempt to draw out Jacob, towards Tom, who had resumed his usual sullen expression and looked as if he would rather be anywhere else than here. Then came the Quillans; Caroline, unusually quiet, Charles, his merry face wearing an unaccustomed frown, and Benjamin, who had eyes only for Rose who sat at his other side. Rose, flushed with excitement at this her first grownup dinner party, sat between Benjamin and Richard, her eyes wide as she seemed to be trying to memorise every detail of the scene.

Mary sat on Lawrence’s right and Isabella thought she had never seen her look more beautiful. Her golden hair had recovered its shine and she had dressed it in ringlets which suited her small face. Her dress, adorned with silver lace, was pale blue which matched her eyes and showed up the delicate pink of her complexion. She was smiling up at Richard who was gazing lovingly at her, his fair head bending to catch some remark she had made. His sudden laugh broke Isabella’s vision and she shivered, as the players in her scene became dinner party guests once more. Her soup was still hot; the experience had lasted only for seconds.

She became aware that Richard had asked her a question. “I’m sorry Richard I was miles away.” She tried to smile but her face felt stiff.

“I was asking if you had enjoyed the Dickens Reading tonight,” he said.

“Oh yes, very much,” she was able to reply. “Lawrence, Henry and yourself were excellent. It was as good as a play. I overheard many complimentary comments from the audience afterwards. It seemed to put people in the right mood for Christmas.”

“Of course, Arthur Hall must take most of the credit for the evening,” broke in Lawrence. “Although he has only been in Stoke a short time, he soon learned where the talent was to be found, and organised us very efficiently.”

Richard grunted, “I suppose we couldn’t have arranged it so quickly without him,” he admitted, “but he did rather bully us. Perhaps it was to his advantage not to know us very well. I can’t help feeling that anyone else would have been careful not to tread on too many toes.”

“I heard some talk of it becoming an annual event,” said Charles, and Isabella suppressed a shudder. After tonight, would they want to even remember the Dickens evening let alone repeat it?

As Rachel served the main course, Richard, whose manners were impeccable, turned from Isabella to Rose and Isabella heard him complimenting her on her dress and asking her about her life on the boat. After her first few monosyllabic replies, she was soon chattering away to him as if she had known him all her life. Lawrence, on the other hand, seemed reluctant to speak to Mary, and when he did so it was in stilted tones.

“You look well, Miss Irving. Living at Richard’s house must suit you.”

“Oh, I’m not at Richard’s house, Lawrence,” she said, puzzled by his formality. “I’ve been staying with Isabella. Didn’t you know?”

Lawrence turned to Isabella, but she was conversing in low tones with Doctor Carter, and before he could attract her attention, Richard had turned to Hannah who was seated opposite him.

“I hope you have fully recovered from your indisposition, Mrs Irving,” he said. “I was sorry to hear that you were ill.”

“I’m feeling much better thank you,” she replied, flushing. “Mary has been such a comfort. I hope your aunt wasn’t too inconvenienced?”

“My aunt?” asked Richard.

“Your aunt who was to chaperone Mary at your house,” said Hannah.

“Oh no. I was able to put her off although she was disappointed not to have met Mary. I told her that she would meet her at the wedding, which would be soon, and she was happy to hear that.”

“When is the wedding to be?” asked Rose.

“In the new year we hope,” said Richard, looking fondly at Mary, who realising that she had become the centre of attention, blushed becomingly. Lawrence pushed aside his almost full plate and signalled to Rachel to serve the dessert. As she cleared the main course, she was surprised at how many of the guests had poor appetites, and when she reached Lawrence she said quietly, “I hope the meal was satisfactory, Mr Lawrence.?”

“It was fine Rachel. I’m just not feeling very hungry,” he said.

“Mr Lawrence looks very pale,” Rachel said to John when she returned to the kitchen. “And Miss Isabella doesn’t look well either. I hope Hannah’s illness isn’t catching.”

Conversation over dessert was sporadic. Richard obviously felt that he had done his duty by Rose, and spoke exclusively to Mary in hushed tones. Most of the others ate in silence although Annie continued to try to entertain both Tom and Jacob in turn without much success, and Rose and Benjamin chattered to each other without apparently picking up the mood of the others. Everyone was relieved when Isabella suggested that the ladies retire to the drawing room. The gentlemen joined them after only a few minutes.