Authors: Cynthia Harrod-Eagles
Tags: #Aristocracy (Social Class) - England, #Historical Fiction, #Family, #Fantasy, #Great Britain - History - 19th century, #General, #Romance, #Napoleonic Wars; 1800-1815, #Sagas, #Great Britain, #Historical, #Fiction, #Domestic fiction, #Morland family (Fictitious characters)
‘
Oh, I am
véritable rustique,'
she agreed cheerfully, 'but
even I have heard about these things. It is a reaction against the French revolutionaries, who wore the topboots, is it not? And the Hessian boots are German, and therefore very much
comme it faut,
because the royal family are German too. You
see how knowledgeable I am?'
‘
I think they both look
splendid,'
said Bobbie fervently,
turning admiring eyes from one to the other. 'Your neckcloth,
sir,' he addressed Robert shyly, 'is it the Trône d'Amour tie? I
wish I could learn how to do it, but m'tutor is against excessive use of starch.' He sighed. 'I shall never get on if I don't
have the chance to learn the important things.'
‘
If you can learn to be like Mr Firth, you will get on very
well,' Héloïse told him comfortingly, but Bobbie looked
unconvinced.
‘
Why did you not come up at Christmas, Aylesbury?'
Roberta asked. 'You were missed, you know. Poor Edward
was quite lost. He had no-one to walk with, to avoid the dancing.'
‘
Oh, I'm quite a reformed character now,' Chetwyn said
quickly. 'You wait and see. When the Season starts, I shall
dance every dance and be the favourite of every hostess. How
are the plans progressing for the launching of Miss Nordu
bois?’
He gave a smile and a bow in the direction of Mathilde,
who was sitting as quietly and demurely as any girl 'not out' should. She was rather too thin and too tall, he thought, but
those things could be corrected with careful dressing. Though
not precisely pretty, she certainly had very lovely white skin
and her hair was at least unusual. The worst thing a young
woman entering society for the first time could be was insig
nificant.
‘
We have not had the opportunity to do anything yet,
except look through some of the ladies' journals,' Héloïse said,
with a smile at her protégée. 'Of course, we shall have to
choose colours very carefully, to make the most of her hair.'
‘
Just what I was thinking, ma'am,' Chetwyn said. 'The
most important thing is to be noticed, and the second most
important, to be noticed in the right way.’
Héloïse laughed, and was about to reply when the door
opened and Hawkins, taking it very slowly, announced the
Duc de Veslne-d'Estienne. Héloïse's face lit up. He came in
wearing his coat loose on one shoulder, for his right arm was
in a sling. He had been in the fighting at Austerlitz, and was
recovering in the safety of London from a broken arm. He
had been fortunate to escape, for, as Bobbie explained,
round-eyed, to Chetwyn, 'Boney would have had him shot, if
he'd caught him.’
He had been the first to call on Héloïse at Chelmsford
House when she had arrived yesterday, having learnt of her
visit from his servant, who had learnt of it in the usual
roundabout but infallible way that servants always knew
everything.
Now the greetings were renewed, and everyone had some
thing to say to the pleasant young man, except for Mathilde,
whose blushes clashed painfully with her hair, and who could
only look at him at all when he was looking elsewhere.
However, as the topic of Mathilde's come-out was now
resumed, and the Duc joined in with a discussion about the
guest-list for the ball with great and bilingual good-humour,
she was not often able to lift her eyes from the floor during
the following quarter-hour.
When Chetwyn and Robert finally rose to leave, Héloïse
tore her attention away from the Duc to say, 'But tell me,
how is Lucy? I have not been able to call on her yet, but mean
to do it tomorrow.’
Chetwyn shrugged. 'You may call, of course, but she may
not see you. She sees no-one now.'
‘What, is she ill?'
‘
Oh, she's well enough, as far as that goes,' Chetwyn said.
‘But she doesn't seem to want to talk to anyone. We hardly see
her ourselves, though we live in the same house. She takes her
meals in her room, and only goes out to ride in the Park with
her groom. But Hicks told me she thinks of going down to the
country in a few days' time, and I'm sure that will be better
for her.'
‘
Héloïse regarded him thoughtfully. 'Perhaps it may,' she
said. 'Well, I shall call tomorrow in any case, and hope she
may receive me.’
*
After talking it over with Roberta, Héloïse went alone to
Upper Grosvenor Street the next day, for they both thought it
more likely that Lucy would see Héloïse alone, than both of
them together. When she arrived, however, she found that Lucy already had a visitor. Hicks shewed Héloïse into the
breakfast parlour, where she was entertaining, or rather being
entertained by, Mr Brummell, in an even more exquisite
version of Robert Knaresborough's outfit.
Héloïse thought at once that Lucy had the harried look of
an animal that had been mistreated, and that she was much
too thin.
‘
But Lucy, you are ill,' she cried, crossing the room to take
her hands. 'And your husband told me you were not! Here has been some mismanagement,
enfin —
do you not agree,
Mr Brummell?'
‘
By a strange coincidence, I was just telling her ladyship
that she is looking a little
mal soignée,'
he said with his funny
little closed smile, and a droll look at Lucy.
Lucy drew Héloïse down onto the sopha beside her and
said, 'Those were not his precise words, however. He has just
finished roundly abusing me, so you, my dear Héloïse, must
promise to leave me alone. Talk about anything but me, I beg
you. What brings you to London?’
Héloïse explained about Mathilde's come-out.
‘Is she old enough already? How time passes!'
‘
She's seventeen next month,' Héloïse said. 'I do so want
her to do well! She is such a good girl, and has worked so hard
at her lessons, and it would be the best way I can think of to
fulfil my promise to her mother that I would look after her, if
she were to make a good marriage.’
Lucy looked at her a little bleakly. 'A good marriage? What
is that, I wonder?'
‘
You know perfectly well, ma'am,' Brummell said with a
severe look. 'Pay no attention to her, Lady Strathord, but talk
to me instead. Who is this young lady? Who are her people? If
she is really presentable, you and I may make a success of her together.'
‘You, Mr Brummell? What interest can you have?'
‘
Lady Aylesbury could tell you that, if she weren't deep in
the dismals. My aim has always been to make London Society
the most brilliant, the most polished, the most elegant, the
world has ever seen. I mean, before I'm done, to have the last word on everything. If I have my way, no man or woman will
be accepted in the best circles, unless I say so.’
Héloïse laughed. 'That would be power indeed! But one
may trust your judgement, I am sure. How far have you got?’
He smiled enigmatically. 'How many men have you seen,
since you arrived, ma'am, dressed like this?' He made a grace
ful gesture towards his own immaculate legs. 'And I have
founded a new club — you must have heard about it? It is the
old glee-club on the corner of Bolton Street. Oh, you look
surprised, but when I tell you that the cook there is Jean-
Baptiste Watier, formerly
chef de cuisine
to the Prince of
Wales, and that the food is of unparalleled excellence, you will understand its attraction.'
‘
And you are obliged to sing for your supper?' Héloïse
asked innocently.
‘I am making some fundamental changes,' he conceded
with a smile. Not glees and catches, but deep play, macao
and hazard, are to be the order of the day; and, more import
antly, I shall be the arbiter in the matter of membership,
dress, manners, the laws of play — everything.'
‘But suppose no-one wants to be a member?'
‘
Leave me alone for that. Once I have refused a few
eminent people, everyone will want to join.'
‘
You are very clever at understanding people, Mr
Brummell,' Héloïse said. They exchanged a significant glance
with each other, and Brummell rose to take his leave. He
bowed formally over Lucy's hand, but held on to it for a
moment longer than was merely polite, and looked into her
face with real concern and affection. 'Come back to us soon,
dear ma'am,' he said softly. 'It is not the same without you.’
When they were alone together, Héloïse said diffidently, 'I
thought you might like to know how the baby goes on.’
Lucy's eyes met hers for the fraction of a second, and then
moved away. 'I suppose you would have told me if there were anything amiss,' she said bleakly.
‘
I did not very much like to leave him, or my Sophie,'
Héloïse went on. 'She is so fond of him — and he is the
dearest little thing, always happy. They keep me amused all
day long.' She paused, but still got no reaction from Lucy. 'In
the summer, you must come up and visit us again. It would
do you so much good, I am sure.'
‘
Perhaps,' Lucy said, and then, turning her face away, 'It
was kind of you to visit me. But I am very tired now ...’
Héloïse stood up obediently. It was of no use, she knew, to
push someone faster along the road to recovery than they
could keep their feet; but her heart ached with pity for Lucy,
shut away inside herself, suffering alone.
There was one other thing that needed to be said, however.
'Is it true that you are going into the country?'
‘
I thought I might,' Lucy said dully. 'I thought of going
down to Wolvercote at the end of the week. It will be quieter
there.'
‘And your husband? Will he stay here?'
‘
I suppose so,' Lucy said without interest. 'He and Robert
have plenty to keep them amused in Town this Season.’
‘
He is with him a great deal, this Robert, is he not?’
The ghost of a smile touched Lucy's lips. 'Where Chetwyn
is, there you are sure to trip over Robert. I've got used to it
now.'
‘
I think,' Héloïse said hesitantly, 'that you ought not to
stay away too long from Town. Unless Lord Aylesbury comes
down to the country too.’