Arriving in Brighton (Geoffrey)

[Miss Rebecca Winthrop]

The journey from Herefordshire to Brighton had been a long, arduous one for Miss Rebecca Winthrop. Her father, Mr. Harold Winthrop, was ill as always, and persuading him to take the journey at all had been quite difficult. It took no less an authority from Mr. Winthrop's own trusted physician, Dr. Wright, to convince him that the sea air of Brighton would be beneficial to his lungs, and even then, he had argued all the way. Until he set foot in the carriage two days previously, Rebecca had been certain that her father would refuse to go.

Once the trip began, of course, Miss Winthrop had been subjected to all of her father's rambling complaints. For a man who claimed to struggle for every breath, Mr. Winthrop never seemed to have trouble speaking of his many ailments, until poor Rebecca was very near to madness.

At every stop along the way, he threatened to turn back. He complained at every inn about the quality of the rooms, and was not satisfied with anything, from the air to the food to the bedding. Rebecca could not imagine that they would ever arrive in Brighton, but at last the carriage came to a halt in front of the rented lodgings which her older brother, Geoffrey, had secured for them.

He had hinted that he might be there to meet them, and Rebecca hoped that this would prove true. As much as she adored her father, she really couldn't abide by his company much longer. His complaints bored and annoyed her, and she longed to laugh and talk about happier subjects once again.

The carriage door opened and a hand reached in to help her out. She assumed it was merely Robert, the coachmen, although she could not see his face in the darkness of the carriage, which was always shielded from sunlight so as not to injure her father's delicate eyesight. She accepted his hand and allowed the man to help her out of the carriage, only then realizing that it was not Robert at all.

"Geoffrey!" she cried. "You don't know how happy I am to see you!"

[Mr. Geoffrey Winthrop]

Summer had come to Brighton like Hephaestus' fire-- sweltering and relentless. The unusual heat affected people of all means, be it the ladies playing croquet in feathered bonnets, or the oyster harvesters knee deep in the salty sea. The newly amiable weather affected Brighton giving it a sultry disposition, much to the delight of individuals who were eager to wear their holiday attire.

Mr. Geoffrey Winthrop was one of these individuals. He had come to Brighton to make arrangements for his father, Mr. Winthrop and sister, Miss Rebecca Winthrop to stay a couple of weeks. He had been recently debating whether to stay on with his family or rejoin his friends in London. He had heard a textile heiress had been newly debuted. He looked at himself in the mirror and straightened his cravat. 'I do have a strong esteem for textiles.' he cheekily laughed to himself.

The clock struck midday. It had come to Geoffrey's attention that his father and sister were due to arrive in Brighton at any minute. 'Poor Rebecca,' he thought 'she must have suffered father's tantrums the entire journey.' A small surprise would please her. As the carriage pulled in front of the lodgings, he quickly descended the stairs and pulled his hat low over his brow. Marching up to the carriage he took his sister's hand and helped her out of the carriage.

"Geoffrey!" she cried. "You don't know how happy I am to see you!"

Geoffrey relished her excitement. He feigned shock. 'Do you not recognise your own dear brother? I do agree that the Brighton air has refreshed my complexion but sister...am I much changed?' He kissed her hand and teasingly pinched her flushed cheek. Next, he helped Mr. Winthrop, who was already cursing the 'horrid weather'. He gave Rebecca a knowing glance. 'Father! How good of you to come!'

Geoffrey helped his undoubtedly fatigued father and sister into their rooms. The luggage followed shortly. After giving the cook orders to prepare the freshly caught partridges, he crossed the corridor to his sister's room and peeked in. He sighed as he caught sight of her arranging her jewelry. She looked more and more like their mother everyday. He gave a soft smile. He had missed her. However, putting all sentimentality aside, he burst through the door and galloped to her. Snatching a ruby necklace out of her hand, he dangled it above his head and out of her reach.

'Why sister,' he laughed, 'I do believe you have grown shorter! What has Father been feeding you?'

[Miss Rebecca Winthrop]

Any change in situation was beneficial for Rebecca. At home, she was often left alone to tolerate her father and his complaints. There were servants to care for him and callers to entertain him, but the society was rather limited for a young lady as spirited as Rebecca. There were only so many times she could abide his complaints, and although she could always play the pianoforte or take a long walk in the garden, it still seemed sometimes as though there was no escape from the drudgery of Haverford Park.

Any change of scenery or society, therefore, was a welcome one. After all, there were few eligible men in the area and village near Haverford Park. She quite hoped Brighton would improve her society in this matter. A previous trip to Bath had been quite a disappointment, but Brighton sounded so much more youthful.

Rebecca happily greeted her brother, but before she could begin questioning him about any potentially worthy acquaintances, her father was being helped out of the carriage, followed by all the hustle and bustle of unloading the luggage. She decided the subject would have to wait until later, when she could discuss it at greater leisure.

The rented house was not overly large, built in the style of a cottage orné, which was designed to look larger and more elegant than it really was. The inside, however, was surprisingly spacious and well-decorated. Rebecca was especially pleased to see that there was a large pianoforte in the sitting room, where she might be able to entertain a large group of guests.

Her room was decorated in shades of lavender, her favorite color. She was quite enraptured with it, and immediately set to work on arranging and unpacking everything so that it was all just as she wanted it. She was just unpacking her jewelry when Geoffrey came up behind her and took her mother's ruby necklace from her, dangling it just out of her reach.

"You are not funny," Rebecca said, frowning and reaching for the necklace. She jumped up several times, trying to take it from him, succeeding at last on her third attempt. She laid it gently in the velvet-lined jewelry case, them straightened up to look at her brother more carefully.

"Have you been in Brighton many days? Please tell me what you know about Brighton... is the society more lively than Bath? Have you made any interesting acquaintances?"

[Mr. Geoffrey Winthrop]

Geoffrey had become accustomed to the idea that Rebecca was a very excitable girl. He knew that if it hadn't have been for her strict governess, she would have matured into an absolute hoyden. He quietly laughed at the thought of Rebecca prancing about in the fields, her petticoats stained with slimy russet earth. Geoffrey missed their uncomplicated infancy. Thoughts of society, money and acceptance often greatly contrasted with the simple childhood they had.

It must be noted that Geoffrey hadn't seen Rebecca in a fortnight, so the many inquiries were normal, but he could sense that she longed for a drastic change of society- a society that would entice and intrigue a most spirited girl. Geoffrey walked to her bed and draped his arms around a bedpost. He gave his sister a mischievous smirk. 'And by interesting acquaintances do you mean...eligible gentlemen? Haverford Park is quite dull with its lack of parties. And I know, as well as any other man, that one cannot waltz alone!'

Delighted at his innuendo, Geoffrey whisked himself and his imaginary partner across her bedroom floor. '1-2-3, 1-2-3. Waltzing is quite extraordinary, sister. Have you heard of it? The Prince Regent debuted it at the Pavilion this past season. Quite newfangled.' He came to a halt as he spotted a carriage moving across the bumpy cobblestones near their cottage. He went to the window and pulled a lavender drapery aside, gently squinting his eyes. 'That, my dear sister, is a certain Miss Bennet.' He turned back to Rebecca as the carriage moved out of sight.

'Miss Bennet is vile. Cavorting around with a soldier like clandestine lovers. Like a fishwife with her crude displays. I absolutely forbid you from speaking to her!' Geoffrey sighed. 'But as to your other questions, I've been here but a week and have become acquainted with a Mrs. Fitzherbert. She was very obliging and helped me secure this residence. However, she is not without fault.' He moved closer to Rebecca in a conspiratorial way. 'Most say she is frequently in Brighton because of a well-known gentleman.' He lowered his voice. 'Apparently she is the Prince's chère-amie and has been for quite some time.'

Geoffrey walked to Rebecca's plush bed and draped himself amongst the many pillows. He took out his gilt snuffbox and admired the chinoiserie figures on the lid. He quickly inhaled some tobacco he had placed on the back of his hand. Geoffrey felt in his heart that it was his duty to protect his sister from such scandal. Society was like a waltz itself and Rebecca would be ruined if she were to miss a step. 'But do tell me, sister, how was your journey? I know that you were very eager to visit here, so, you must have many plans for your holiday. What is it about Brighton that has captivated your imagination?'

[Miss Rebecca Winthrop]

Rebecca, on the other hand, postively thirsted for scandal and gossip. There was so little of either to be had in Haverford Park, with such a woefully limited society. A certain Mr. Hammond had recently become engaged to his cousin, a rather plain young lady who was rumored to have an inheritance of twenty thousand a year, but that was the extent of the news to be had there. Rebecca only found this information noteworthy because her father had once suggested that a connection between herself and Mr. Hammond would be beneficial to her future. Mr. Hammond, however, was not handsome, not interesting, not intelligent, and not titled, and therefore of no interest to Rebecca. His impending marriage relieved her of any potential danger of a dreadfully dull union.

She moved over to gaze out the window at the offending Miss Bennet, sniffling in distaste. "You needn't worry, dear brother," she assured him. "I would never form an acquaintance with someone as unfashionable as Miss Bennet. Honestly, that dress must be two seasons old at least! I think I can see fray marks at the hem, even from this distance."

She knew that many other young ladies her age found soldiers quite appealing, but Rebecca did not. They might look very handsome and polished in their uniforms, but she couldn't quite see them as true gentlemen. They had ranks instead of titles, and their wives didn't get titles at all. What fortune was there in marrying a soldier?

Mrs. Fitzherbert, however, was of greater interest to Rebecca. As scandalous as her relationship with the Prince Regent might be, she was still a connection to royalty. This could not fail to intrigue her.

Moving away from the window, Rebecca sat down on the edge of the bed and looked up at her brother. "How deliciously scandalous! The Prince Regent? Is he in Brighton now? I must meet Mrs. Fitzherbert. You will secure an introduction for me, won't you?"

Rebecca's plans were really very simple. She meant to meet an eligible, wealthy, titled gentleman here in Brighton, secure an engagement, and not to return to Haverford Park again. She left home so infrequently that this felt like her best chance to find a husband.

"I have no plans, dear brother," she said, a mysterious smile on her face that seemed to belie her words. "I only wish to dance, to explore, and to enjoy myself entirely!"