meet with Captain Trayton-Camfield and be introduced with all due decorum as a matter of course, and I do not think you will have to wait very long before we will be assured of seeing him again! I would lay a bet that he will see to it himself. Mark my words, Lydia: if we do not formally meet before the week is out, I shall forfeit my subscription to the Castle assemblies!”
“He is very handsome, almost as good looking as Mr Wickham,” Lydia said sighing, “whose eyes are the most beautiful of anyone I have ever known, deep brown like a cup of chocolate, all velvety on the bottom.”
“Lydia, I believe you are quite right,” Harriet replied. “Next to my darling Henry, George Wickham has the sort of eyes that could command one to do almost anything, but perhaps as a married woman, I should not say so,” she giggled. They laughed so loudly that the “duchess,” who was passing out of the inn as they were entering it, glared in their direction, pursed her lips as though she had detected a nasty stink, and announced in a loud voice that she was concerned that the Ship Inn was not continuing to attract the right sort of clientele, that in its heyday there had not been a single personage accommodated there under the rank of a duke, and that in future, she was considering a move to Worthing, which she deemed far more refined!
Tuesday, June 1st
How wonderful is the sight of the sea, its sound so delicious on the ear, and its vast waters swimming with gentleman bathers! We have rooms overlooking the water, which provide the most excellent looking post! It is heaven, indeed!
There is an odd assortment of people staying here: Mr and Mrs Rand are a very jolly pair, though she must spend a small fortune on rouge, which I fear is daubed on in vast quantities in an effort to match her husband’s ruddy cheeks. Mrs Falkener, “the duchess,” enjoys snubbing us whenever she can, which only has the effect of making me want to behave outrageously whenever we see her. Harriet has discovered that she is a close friend of a royal duke, but I think if I describe that relationship as “intimate” that will be nearer to it! She is not a titled lady of any description but likes to give the impression that she is of great rank. Dr Blair is a man with a permanent cold who hides whenever he sees “the duchess” approaching— she has a habit of engaging him in conversation on her ailments, of which there are many; the poor man can be seen glazing over as soon as she starts. Then there is Signor Ricardo, the Italian opera singer with a cockney accent who performs once a week at the Promenade Grove. Captain and Mrs Montague are gentility itself—I am tempted to change my allegiance to the navy he looks so well in his uniform. And finally, there is the beautiful Miss Westlake. She appears to be a pleasant enough young woman and is a fount of gossip about the notables in Donaldson’s and Tuppen’s. Mr Wickham has wasted no time in introducing himself to that lady!
Wednesday, June 2nd
We have been to Donaldson’s library to sign the arrivals book and take out our subscriptions for all the entertainments. Everybody who is newly arrived is quizzed to an extent that is enough to unnerve all but the most confident creature. We have taken out subscriptions for the Castle and Ship assemblies, will attend card parties, the Promenade Grove, and public teas for our delight.
I amused myself by looking at the scandal sheets, which are laid out on a central table for everyone’s perusal. Poor Prince George and Mrs Fitzherbert, their caricatures are most cruelly drawn. It is rumoured everywhere that they are secretly married, and Harriet says that they even have a love child! I do hope the royal couple will be in Brighton shortly; I long to see them.
A souvenir fan caught my eye, which I bought before I could be talked out of its purchase. It is very fine, made of ivory and parchment, painted with scenes showing the layout of the different
“He is very handsome, almost as good looking as Mr Wickham,” Lydia said sighing, “whose eyes are the most beautiful of anyone I have ever known, deep brown like a cup of chocolate, all velvety on the bottom.”
“Lydia, I believe you are quite right,” Harriet replied. “Next to my darling Henry, George Wickham has the sort of eyes that could command one to do almost anything, but perhaps as a married woman, I should not say so,” she giggled. They laughed so loudly that the “duchess,” who was passing out of the inn as they were entering it, glared in their direction, pursed her lips as though she had detected a nasty stink, and announced in a loud voice that she was concerned that the Ship Inn was not continuing to attract the right sort of clientele, that in its heyday there had not been a single personage accommodated there under the rank of a duke, and that in future, she was considering a move to Worthing, which she deemed far more refined!
Tuesday, June 1st
How wonderful is the sight of the sea, its sound so delicious on the ear, and its vast waters swimming with gentleman bathers! We have rooms overlooking the water, which provide the most excellent looking post! It is heaven, indeed!
There is an odd assortment of people staying here: Mr and Mrs Rand are a very jolly pair, though she must spend a small fortune on rouge, which I fear is daubed on in vast quantities in an effort to match her husband’s ruddy cheeks. Mrs Falkener, “the duchess,” enjoys snubbing us whenever she can, which only has the effect of making me want to behave outrageously whenever we see her. Harriet has discovered that she is a close friend of a royal duke, but I think if I describe that relationship as “intimate” that will be nearer to it! She is not a titled lady of any description but likes to give the impression that she is of great rank. Dr Blair is a man with a permanent cold who hides whenever he sees “the duchess” approaching— she has a habit of engaging him in conversation on her ailments, of which there are many; the poor man can be seen glazing over as soon as she starts. Then there is Signor Ricardo, the Italian opera singer with a cockney accent who performs once a week at the Promenade Grove. Captain and Mrs Montague are gentility itself—I am tempted to change my allegiance to the navy he looks so well in his uniform. And finally, there is the beautiful Miss Westlake. She appears to be a pleasant enough young woman and is a fount of gossip about the notables in Donaldson’s and Tuppen’s. Mr Wickham has wasted no time in introducing himself to that lady!
Wednesday, June 2nd
We have been to Donaldson’s library to sign the arrivals book and take out our subscriptions for all the entertainments. Everybody who is newly arrived is quizzed to an extent that is enough to unnerve all but the most confident creature. We have taken out subscriptions for the Castle and Ship assemblies, will attend card parties, the Promenade Grove, and public teas for our delight.
I amused myself by looking at the scandal sheets, which are laid out on a central table for everyone’s perusal. Poor Prince George and Mrs Fitzherbert, their caricatures are most cruelly drawn. It is rumoured everywhere that they are secretly married, and Harriet says that they even have a love child! I do hope the royal couple will be in Brighton shortly; I long to see them.
A souvenir fan caught my eye, which I bought before I could be talked out of its purchase. It is very fine, made of ivory and parchment, painted with scenes showing the layout of the different
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