Free For Myself Alone: A Jane Austen Inspired Novel by Shannon Winslow Page B

been so thoroughly overcome as to forget her responsibilities altogether.
    “Jo, my dear, I thought you and I might have a little chat,” she said one morning, coming into my room.
    “If you wish, Mama.”
    She sat down upon the bed beside me. “Mr. Pierce is a delightful young man, and you like him very much.” It was a statement, not a question. “As do I, to be sure. Yet I do feel it is incumbent upon me to recommend a bit of caution. I can well imagine what you must be feeling. A first romance is a very intoxicating thing. It is easy to find oneself… swept away… by a flood of unfamiliar emotions,” she said with a far-off look in her eyes. “Still, you mustn’t lose your head. Use the good sense God has given you, as you would in making any other important decision.”
    “Mama, really, I do not think this is necessary.”
    “I know, and you are probably right, my dear. Yet I could not bear to see you hurt when I might have prevented it with a word or two of warning. So humor me just this once, and then we shall say no more about it. All I am advocating is that you proceed slowly; take plenty of time to get to know the gentleman before you commit yourself in any way. It is for his protection as well as your own that you should. Nothing will give me more pleasure than seeing you well married someday. But you are still young and there is no reason to rush.”
    “You needn’t worry, Mama. I have no intention of ‘losing my head,’ as you call it, for Mr. Pierce or anybody else. My wits have not as yet deserted me, I assure you.”
    “I am glad to hear it. See that they do not, and remember to come to me if you need advice. That is all I ask.”
    Mother seemed satisfied, having done her duty and being reassured that her daughter was in no immediate danger of making a fool of herself over the dashing Mr. Pierce. I was equally pleased to have soothed her unwarranted fears. And I meant what I said. My growing regard for Mr. Pierce notwithstanding, I still felt in full control of my faculties.
     
    ~~*~~
     
    The next two weeks passed most agreeably. Thanks to Mama’s conscientious supervision, my father continued his treatments at the Pump-room with impressive regularity, and followed his dietary guidelines with similar faithfulness. As a result, he steadily improved and began to feel equal to a more ambitious social schedule. Concerts, the theatre, and even an occasional ball were now within our reach.
    True to my word, I remembered to speak up on behalf of Agnes, who, by her own written account, continued to languish most grievously in Wallerton for lack of society and diversion. Now that Papa was feeling so much better, his spirits had improved as well. “The more, the merrier,” he said to my surprise when I asked permission to invite Agnes to join us. I posted a letter to her forthwith.
    Mr. Pierce’s behavior during this interval could not have been more effectively designed to please. His devotion knew no bounds other than what decorum and basic civility to others demanded. Miss Graham and Mr. Ramsey’s mutual fondness, though perhaps less ardent in nature, held fast as well. And since being introduced at the Grahams’ dinner party, Ramsey and Pierce had established a comfortable rapport between them. Being forced to choose between the society of my new bosom friend and that of Mr. Pierce would have been a painful proposition. Fortunately, I seldom had to sacrifice the company of one for the other since we were all four content to go about together.
    Although it was now November, exploring the streets and avenues of Bath remained our preferred choice for daytime activity. Winter clothing and exercise easily overcame all but the coldest temperatures. Precipitation could be more bothersome. Whenever the appearance of the sky was arguably in our favor, though, we would set forth on the gravel walk to the Royal Crescent or for a stroll along the Avon, umbrellas in hand. On those occasions when not even