The Gathering Storm (The Jacobite Chronicles Book 3) (43 page)

“But he can, Beth,” Caroline pointed out gently. “Within the boundaries of the law, of course. If he wants to hit his wife, within reason, he can. You know that. Every woman does.”

“Yes,” said Beth, “I do. I’m sure Anne does, too, although she’s too sweet-natured to think any man she loved would ever beat her for pleasure. I also know Richard. I just want to warn him that there will be consequences when he does hit her, that’s all.”

“
When
? You’re really convinced he will, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” said Beth, “I am. But I know you don’t believe me.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you, exactly,” said Caroline. “I just don’t see it as inevitable, as you seem to. I couldn’t imagine anybody hitting Anne. I don’t think she’s done one provocative thing in her whole life. You’re worrying too much.”

“I hope so. But at the very least Anne will appreciate the gesture I’m making in throwing a party for her. And she’ll know she has a friend in me, if she needs one.”

“Where is the rich, influential man, anyway?” asked Caroline.

“Upstairs, dousing himself in cologne and despairing over whether to wear the lime green or the sulphur yellow, most likely,” said Beth. “I’d better go up myself and start to get ready.”

“And I’ll go home and remind Edwin that we’re to be here at seven. He forgets everything now if it isn’t about politics or Freddie. It’s nice that he’s starting to see the fruits of his labours, but it’s hard sometimes to see so little of him. I’ll see you later. And I’ll let Anne know she has a friend in me as well. After all, my family are peppered with enough impressive titles to make Richard’s eyes pop, even if they don’t bother with me much, Aunt Harriet excepted. Although they are softening a bit, now Edwin’s on the rise. Apparently cousin John actually grunted good morning to Edwin the other day when they passed each other in Westminster.”

“What’s cousin John, then?” said Beth, walking Caroline to the door.

“A viscount. We’ve got one of everything in the family, from duke to black sheep.”

“The black sheep being you,” Beth said.

“Yes.” Caroline smiled. “Every ancient family has to have one. I’m just following tradition. See you at seven.”

The dinner was a great success, as Caroline had predicted. The food was excellent, the wines expensive, the servants obsequious. Sir Anthony wore neither lime green nor sulphur yellow, but russet velvet, and the conversation sparkled as far as was possible given the qualities of the guests, which consisted of the entire Cunningham family, Lord and Lady Winter, Thomas Fortesque and his daughter, and the Harlows.

Anne, in the difficult position of being still within the mourning period for her late husband, whilst at the same time celebrating her recent marriage to her present one, had chosen to wear a soft dove-grey silk. Her burgeoning waistline was concealed by the hooped skirt, and she was radiant. There was no other word to describe her. She radiated happiness and good health, and had from the moment she entered the house and accepted Beth’s congratulations by enfolding her in a warm, if awkward embrace, due to the voluminous skirts both women were wearing.

At the table, Beth utilised the espionage skills Alex had taught her, watching Anne carefully whilst effortlessly maintaining a vacuous conversation with Isabella and Clarissa regarding the rain which had fallen almost without pause during their stay in Manchester, and half-listening to the conversation at the other, male dominated end of the table, which was turning to politics and the war in Flanders.

No,
she thought after half an hour of intense if subtle observation,
Richard hasn’t been cruel to her yet.
True, he was not showing obvious signs of helpless infatuation as Anne was, blushing every time she mentioned his name, and casting demure glances at him from under her eyelashes every few minutes, but Beth would not expect any man to show slavish infatuation in public. Except Sir Anthony of course, who did it for effect when the need arose. But when Anne caught Richard’s eye he returned her smile, and when she needed to leave the room for a few minutes he escorted her to the door with the utmost consideration. He even waited for her and led her back to her chair, tenderly kissing her hand before returning to his seat, which caused a little flutter of romantic sighs from the other ladies, Caroline and Beth excepted.

If Caroline was too practical to sigh, Beth was too stunned by this loving gesture. She had expected at best that he would be friendly towards his wife, vaguely attentive when the need arose. And at worst she had expected him to be indifferent, and to see signs of anxiety in Anne, a need to please born of fear rather than love. But she saw none of this, nothing other than a genuinely warm regard, affection even, on Richard’s part, and complete infatuation on Anne’s.

She ignored the I-told-you-so glance thrown down the table at her from her husband, who knew exactly what she was up to, and instead watched Richard as he ate his soup. He looked up suddenly as though aware of her scrutiny, and their eyes met. Instantly she smiled, conjuring up an expression of such sisterly warmth for him that he was, for a moment, completely flummoxed. Something dark flickered in his eyes, and then he smiled back at her before returning his attention to his plate.

For the first time then, she saw him as others did, saw that he was indeed quite a handsome man, with an athletic build, tanned skin, dark eyes and hair. His face was lean, with none of the plumpness of cheek and double chin which marred Edward’s otherwise similar looks. She could still see brutality in the hard planes of his face, and in the habitual tightness of his mouth, but she also saw how irresistible that would be to women, who were attracted to the untamed quality of such men. She herself found that hint of ruthlessness and wildness deeply compelling in her own husband. Anne, and other women, would interpret this quality in Richard as a sign of strength and authority rather than of cruelty and vindictiveness as she, who had experienced it at first hand, did.

Had she imagined the smugness in his smile? She would give him the benefit of the doubt, for now. She had to; it was obvious that he had done nothing more than make Anne blissfully happy. She hoped it would long continue so.

“Will you go to the country to have your baby, Anne?” asked Caroline, when she had finished her soup. “It must be due very soon now.”

“Not until April,” replied Anne, blushing. “I have two months to wait yet. But I intend to stay in London now, and have it here. The midwife has already been arranged, and I am planning a nursery. The decorators will be coming next week.” She glanced at Richard and smiled.

Was there a slight tightening of the skin around his eyes? A pursing of his lips?

“Yes,” he said. “We have agreed that it would be better for Anne to be near her friends as the time approaches. I fear I will be recalled to Flanders before the child is born. I expect the summons any day, and it will give me the greatest relief to know she is surrounded by those who will care for her whilst I am away.”

“Oh of course we will, Richard!” exclaimed Charlotte. “You can depend upon it!”

“Can’t you defer your service until after the baby is born?” asked Caroline. “I’m sure if you explain the situation to your commanding officer he will understand.”

“I am afraid that to generals, war takes precedence over everything else,” said Richard. “Although my wife’s safe delivery is a matter of the greatest importance to me, of course my commanding officer will see it in quite a different light.”

“General Hawley is on excellent terms with my great-uncle Francis, if I’m not mistaken,” Caroline persisted, observing Richard’s smile become decidedly more forced as she continued. “He’s an earl, you know. I’m sure I could ask him to put in a word for you if you want to stay at home for a while.”

Edwin shot Caroline a puzzled look, but wisely forbore from commenting that as great-uncle Francis was one of the most outspoken and unwavering opponents of Caroline’s marriage, the likelihood of him putting in a good word about anything at her request was remote to say the least.

“Oh no!” cried Anne, putting an end to Beth’s anticipation as she waited for Richard’s response to being forced into a corner. “I wouldn’t hear of it! Richard is to take up his new commission, and needs to make the best possible impression. It would do his career no good if General Hawley thought him to be unreliable in his duty.” He gave her a look of inexpressible gratitude, and she smiled. “It is quite enough to know that his thoughts and affection will be with me, and that I have good friends who will call on me occasionally while he is away.”

“Of course we will,” Beth said. “You can count on my support and help in anything at any time at all, you know that. I am always here for you.” She cast a warning look in Richard’s direction, but he was watching Anne, and his expression was, unbelievably, one of the deepest regard.

“Quite right,” put in Lord Edward. “Ridiculous expecting a man to hang around and shirk his duty for a child that isn’t even his. Women’s business, that. No place for a man.”

An uncomfortable silence greeted these tactless words for a moment. Anne looked down at her plate. Beth glared at Edward.

“When I married Anne, I agreed to look after the baby as though it is my own,” said Richard. “It wasn’t why we married, of course, although it was the reason why we married so quickly. I intend to do the best for the child. I will return to Flanders because my country demands it, and because my wife wishes me to.” He smiled at Edward, who seemed to become suddenly aware of his faux pas.

“I certainly didn’t mean…” he blustered.

“Of course you didn’t,” interrupted Sir Anthony, waving his hand at the servants to signify that the plates be removed. “When do you expect to embark, then, Captain Cunningham?”

Richard beamed at the baronet, obviously flattered by the premature title. He was still a lieutenant, although he did not enlighten the company.

“In March I expect, if we are to be ready to campaign in April. I await the king’s command.”

“We’re all awaiting the king’s command,” said Thomas Fortesque. “It’s rumoured that he has designs on making Cumberland Commander-in-Chief. It’s ridiculous, if you ask me. He’s a mere boy.”

“He acquitted himself remarkably well at Dettingen, did he not?” said Sir Anthony.

“Yes. But it takes more than showing great bravery and getting shot to make a man fit to command more than forty thousand men. He has great potential, true, but he’s too young and inexperienced for such a post.”

“Is it not more of an honorific title than an executive one?” asked Sir Anthony. “After all the last time the army had a Captain-General was in ‘21, and it’s done well enough without one since then. He will have no control in financial matters, and little say in the matter of appointments. That’s the king’s prerogative.”

“Don’t we know it,” grumbled Thomas. “Cumberland would never be appointed otherwise. But you’re right. He will have no defined responsibilities. But Prince William doesn’t seem a man to be content with a mere empty title. And he has great influence with his father. That’s what worries me.”

“It’s as well for you then, Richard, that your sister is on such excellent terms with the prince,” said Lady Winter. “I’m sure she will have you a general in no time.” She smiled at Beth before casting a sly glance down the table at Sir Anthony. “You
are
still on good terms with him, are you not, Lady Elizabeth? I hear you have not visited the palace recently.”

Beth, who had been enjoying Richard’s consternation at the disturbing thought that his sister might have influence with the C-in-C of the army, registered this barb belatedly.

“It’s most unusual for you to be so misinformed, Wilhelmina,” replied Sir Anthony mildly. “She accompanied me there only a month ago, and Prince William kindly entertained her whilst I discussed matters of state with His Majesty.” He smiled warmly at his wife, throwing the conversational ball to her now she’d had time to prepare herself.

“Yes,” she put in before Lady Winter could make any insinuations as to the nature of the entertainment Cumberland had provided. “We had a very interesting conversation. He took me for a walk in the gardens, which are very lovely even at this barren time of year. He is most partial to
helleborus niger
, and wished me to see it. Do you grow it yourself?” She looked at Lady Winter and smiled sweetly.

“Oh, of course,” the lady affirmed uncomfortably, unwilling to admit she had never heard of it. “It is one of my favourites.”

“I don’t suppose the prince mentioned anything of his future appointment or his intentions to you, did he, as you seem to be in his confidence?” Thomas asked.

Sir Anthony shook his head slightly, but Beth didn’t need that gesture to know she must not mention what Cumberland had said. On the other hand, she didn’t want Richard to think that the duke never talked about military matters to her either.

“I’m sure you realise, Mr Fortesque, that even if the duke were to have discussed anything of the sort with me, I could not divulge anything that was said in confidence. We talked about gardening. I am sure he would not mind me saying that he is a keen gardener, and hopes to pursue his hobby when he has his own household.”

“Which reminds me, my dear,” said Sir Anthony. “Whilst I was out today, who should I encounter but the Prince of Wales, who was taking a constitutional with his dear lady wife, the Princess Augusta, you know. He reproached me for not having visited him for some considerable time.”

“You can’t visit him, though, and remain on good terms with the king, can you?” said Edwin. “George even dismissed his own servants for lighting Frederick’s lamps, didn’t he? And Handel was ordered to refuse Frederick’s invitation to a concert.”

“Well, yes, but that was a long time ago. A lot of water has passed under the bridge since then.”

“A lot of very dirty water,” said Edwin. “There’s no love lost between those two.”

“Maybe not. But nevertheless the prince pointed out, quite rightly, that it was most remiss of me not to have introduced my wife to him. Like his brother, he takes a keen interest in gardening, and wishes me to see the progress he has made at Kew House. So I have accepted an invitation for Wednesday week. I’m sure I will be able to square it with the king. He and I are really the greatest of friends. He knows where my loyalties lie.”