Bella Poldark (19 page)

'So it should. I was being instructed in the way the Swiss build cuckoo clocks. But you might have chosen a less tedious dance than this.'

'There's a waltz to follow.'

'I am promised for that.'

'No you are not. Anyway I have possessory rights.'

'Oh, la. I feel faint. Who is that you were nodding to?'

'Your husband.'

'Oh, la, again. You and he are oil and water, are you not? You don't mix. But both of value in their own way.'

Ross smiled grimly, but did not comment.

'Mayhap some day,' she said, 'I can bring your heads together.'

'To bang them?'

'Yes, possibly.'

'We have tried fisticuffs more than once, but the bloodletting has not eased matters.'

'Just exactly what have you got against him?'

'Dance with me till midnight and we might have made a start.'

A loud shout of laughter came from the end of the room, where Valentine was drinking with Christopher Havergal.

Harriet said: 'Why does not George invite your wife to dance?'

'Ask him. In any event she would refuse.'

'Has he done her some hurt?'

'Only . . . well, only that she has been wholly involved in the trouble he has tried to wreak on the Poldarks.'

'Then why do you ask me to dance?'

'Because I like you.'

'That reminds me, when I danced this tedious dance in my girlhood - about forty years ago - the exercise had a more interesting termination. After the last step the partners bowed and kissed.'

'Indeed,' said Ross. 'I have been waiting forty years for the opportunity.'

With Geoffrey Charles's permission but unknown to the rest of the company, Isabella-Rose had stolen up the spiral staircase to the minstrel's gallery and whispered a request for a special kind of waltz that she had danced in London. It was called a valse a deux temps, and was a quick six-in-a measure dance with two steps to each measure. She and Christopher led off, he managing expertly with his false foot; and soon there were others on the floor. In a formal ball it might have been frowned on, but in this pre Christmas dinner mood everyone took it as an excuse for high jinks. Ross bent to kiss Harriet, she as willingly gave him her mouth. Then they were off. Surprisingly, it was a success. Grasping her brutally round the waist and holding her close to him, he slid and hopped and swirled, and somehow she kept her feet and avoided his. Someone had fallen down ahead of them, but they swayed past. In the middle of it all Ross was conscious of a voice trilling, a soprano's effortless ability to soar above the common noise. While she was dancing at top speed Bella still had the breath for using her voice in high clear spells. Ross suddenly felt very happy. For the first time since Jeremy's death he knew himself to be happy. He had come to the dinner in a wayward eccentric mood, half-rebellious, half-pleasurable. Now suddenly, with this exciting woman in his arms, the beat of the music and the clear pure tones of his daughter's voice soaring at intervals above them all, he knew himself to be happy. The dance at last came to a stop. Everyone was laughing and trying to get their breath. Harriet's great dark eyes were darker than ever as she looked up at Ross.

'By God!' she said. 'I thought you were lame.'

'By God!' said Ross. 'I had forgot it!'

They both laughed. People were moving off the floor.

'I must return you to your cuckoo clocks,' Ross said.

'Pray come again,' she said.

'I will.'

They had not joined in the dance, but for a while stood together in a corner watching, then they had drifted into the back parlour to drink lemonade. They said nothing, but neither showed any inclination to break away from the other. They were islanded by people of another class. But they were in no way ignored; other guests spoke freely to them; twice Esther excused herself briefly to see Amadora and ask if she could not help with the waiting on. She was smilingly refused. When she came back the second time Ben said: 'Reckon you got a good mistress, eh? Reckon she must've caught it from the Poldarks.'

'Caught what, Ben?'

'Makin' friends of their servants. Was they like this at Tehidy?'

'Well, no ... I didn't expect it there.'

'Did you expect it 'ere?'

She gave a little nervous spluttering laugh. 'Well, no. But I suppose I been upped a bit on account of Lady Poldark being my aunt.'

'I see,' said Ben grimly. She was alerted by his tone. 'I've no wish nor thought to be anything more than what I were born to be. Tis their kindness, not my seeking.'

Ben looked at her carefully. 'I haven't the words, Essie. Not any of the words still. But I've a taking for you, Essie.'

She flushed. 'I'm glad, Ben.'

'You're - glad?'

'I'm glad.'

'Then look, I'll say no more now. D'ye ever get a day off?'

'Haifa day.'

'I'll meet ee. Fix a date an' a time an' I'll meet ee. If there's some girl ye'd like to bring with ee -just for form's sake . . .'

Esther took a deep breath. 'I'll come alone.'

Four miles seemed a long ride home, but there was no opportunity for private conversation because Dwight and Caroline and the two girls accompanied them halfway until their paths diverged, and Captain Prideaux, though sleeping at Trenwith, had gallantly insisted on escorting Clowance. Cuby partnered Clemency, and they chatted quietly together in the wake of the others. The night was very dark and very quiet. The cloud cover had continued, blanketing out the stars, and they had to be on the constant alert lest one of the horses should stumble on a stone.

It was nearly three a.m. They had been at Trenwith for twelve hours. When they got home, Matthew Mark was up and alert and waiting to take the horses. Clowance kissed her parents a tired goodnight; there were kisses from the other girls, who were sleeping in Jeremy's old room. Ross and Demelza went into their bedroom together. They had both drunk a lot more than normal. Ross broke a yawning silence. 'By God, that was a marathon! Never in my life have I seen so many of my friends and neighbours so much the worse for drink. Where was George spending the night?'

'He didn't confide in me. Did not Harriet say?'

'No.'

'No doubt she was too overwhelmed by the attentions you paid her.'

Ross chuckled. 'I have been enjoying myself.'

'So it seems.'

'But very decorously. I was still your loving husband. Mark that. For an hour or two I slipped a trace. I had the Christmas impulse.'

'Was that the Christmas impulse? Astonishing! But I suppose ... I suppose, yes, we have been married - in June we shall have been married thirty-two years. It is a long time. So suddenly you exhibit an entirely new mood that I have never ever seen before. Is it really, truly a new mood, kissing flirtatiously every woman in sight and enjoying a lecherous prancing with the wife of your arch-enemy? Dear life, I ask myself is this a new mood, or have you been suffering all these years - all these thirty-two dreary years hiding these strange impulses from me?'

'You were not, I thought, above flirting - lecherously, as you call it! - flirting lecherously with Vyel Vyvyan, and your daughter's intended, Christopher Havergal, and Harry Beauchamp, and Lieutenant Lake.'

Demelza spat as if there were something stuck to her tongue. 'I am astonished - quite astonished that you had any attention left to take note of what I was doing! Did you tick my partners off on the fingers of one hand while with the other you fumbled with Harriet's stays? It's -- it's an outrage that--'

'What is an outrage?'

'That you should try to shoulder the blame upon me when your behaviour was the gossip of the room. Why I--'

'Blame is the wrong word,' said Ross, 'and I'd call anyone out who tried to prove that there was some other motive in me than the spirit of Christmas--''Well, you cannot call me out, though I would take a wager that I am as good a shot as you!'

'With paper darts, no doubt--'

'You kissed . . . How many people did you aim your paper darts at? You kissed--'

'Yes, I kissed Amadora's mother and Clowance and Morwenna and Amadora herself and Harriet! And - and I should have kissed you twenty times over if I had been able to come near you in the crush.'

'All very well to say that, but--'

'Yes, I say it, I say it. And I have greatly enjoyed the evening, and I hope now we shall get a few hours' sleep. I am for Truro later today.'

Demelza sat on the bed. 'What is she really like?'

'Who?'

'Judas God, you know who.'

'I fancy her stays are laced - have, to be laced -- tighter than yours. But well, if we must discuss it at this late hour, she's - I like her. She's a challenge. Do not forget that I did not fight with George all night. Was that not an achievement? Was that not what you most wanted? Peace on earth and good will towards men.'

'And good will towards women? I saw him watching you. I think Harriet will come in for a wigging.'

'I feel sure she will be able to hold her own.'

'When you were prancing with her I could not help but recall all the trouble that sprang from your love for his first wife.'

He sat slowly on the bed beside her. 'God, yes. But that was deeply deeply serious. This was froth. A mischievous impulse. But who put us together at the dining table in the first place?'

'Amadora, no doubt, who does not know our history.'

He took her hand. She wriggled to be free and then gave up. He bit each of her fingers gently in turn.

'All very well,' she said.

'I know.'

They were silent for a while. She said: 'That port was not as good as our port.'

He said: 'They talk of midsummer madness. Never of Yuletide madness.'

'Have you made an assignation with her?'

'Merciful Christ! I tell you it was froth.'

'The village will be talking.'

'Let 'em. I'm sick of gossip. I'm sick of this village, though I would not move away from it for all the tea in China. Give me a kiss.'

'Not likely.'

'Have you dried up - after thirty-two years?'

'There are better times to suggest it than after you have been fondling all sorts of other women.'

'Fondle be damned! I'm not Hugh Bodrugan.'

'Come to think of it,' Demelza said, 'there's a growing likeness.'

A brief convulsion of the bed suggested that Ross was either hiccuping or laughing.

'To tell the truth . . .' he began.

'Oh, that will be a nice change!'

'To tell the truth, it occurred to me tonight that there might be some point in smothering a few old feuds. In fifty years the tide will be coming in and going out just as it does now, the blowhole will spout, the wind and the sun will blow and blaze just the same; but we shall all be gone - or nearly all of us. I suppose, if I'd gritted my teeth, I could have gone up to George and grasped his hand.''Instead you poured oil on old embers by grasping his wife.'

He put his head on her not very sympathetic shoulder.

'I thought Bella was splendid,' he said.

'So you are converted.'

'That was a brilliant idea at midnight - whose was it, I wonder? - a brilliant idea to play the Floral Dance. At least I danced that with you!'

'You did.'

Just before twelve the trio playing the music had been reinforced by two extra drummers, and as the clock struck, so they had opened with the Floral Dance. In fact it was ideally suited to the limitations of the dance floor, since a procession could be formed around the enormous table, each man with a partner doing a hop and skip three times, followed by an exhilarating triple twirl. Round they had gone and round they had gone to the thud, beat, thud of the big drums. It had gone on and on, on and on for almost twenty minutes, when the music ended in a final clash, and everyone stood panting and sweating and smiling and laughing at everyone else.

'A great idea,' said Ross. 'Geoffrey Charles's, I suppose.'

'Yes.'

'Bella does not shout now,' Ross said. 'I'm totally converted. She doesn't strain. Her voice is so clear.'

They were little songs, you know. She specially asked not to sing anything which might seem she was showing off her paces.'

'Maybe I like all voices like that, at half-pitch, men's as well as women's. And I loved her dearly for singing that song you first sang in that house when we were first married. Will you sing it for me now?'

'Tomorrow, Ross. Do you think you can get round me so easy?'

'Yes.'

They sleepily undressed. He said: 'What do you think of Lieutenant Lake?'

'A fit companion for Valentine, maybe.'

'That is not a very good recommendation.'

'He made a great fuss of Cuby. I must ask her. He said in Brussels he was Jeremy's gaming partner.'

Jeremy left few debts,' said Ross. There was a brief silence.

'I think from something Cuby said the other day she did not quite like David Lake. Perhaps that is the reason. With her brother clinging desperately to his castle and burdened down with racing debts, Cuby does not favour the gaming tables.'

'At least Valentine did not disgrace himself tonight.'

'Except by coming uninvited. I suppose George and Harriet may be staying with him at Trevaunance? It would be the only house in the neighbourhood that had vacant bedrooms.'

Ross thought over the complications of that suggestion. He did not quite like it. Why did he not like it? Had he not emphasized all through the evening that this was the season of good will?

When the two young men returned to Place House David went straight to bed, but Valentine climbed to the attics to see if all was well with Butto. His story of having 'bought' the young ape from a Lascar was not altogether accurate. (He had thrown the man a shilling.) Just off Arwenack Street in Falmouth, near the church, there was a small square flanked by stone-built cottages with a few broken steps at the end leading up to a sail-maker's yard. Hearing shouts of laughter and shrill screams of annoyance, Valentine had looked in and seen a group of boys aiming stones at a small fat ape, while its presumed owner danced round behind his barrel organ crying for them to stop. The ape was sitting on one of the cottage chimneys, while the owner of the cottage through an attic window was trying to poke the animal off its perch with a broom handle. The man was shouting and swearing at the lads, for some of their stones were hitting the area very near him. The screams were from the ape.

'Here! Stop this! Stop it, I tell you!' Valentine struck one of the boys across the shoulder with his cane, and there was a pause in the stone throwing while the issue hung in the balance. Some of the lads looked as if they might turn their marksmanship on the intruder. But his rich clothes and air of authority gave them pause. Then David Lake came shambling in, and they took to their heels up another narrow alley between the cottages. The organ grinder was silent and so, except for an occasional whimper, was the ape, who, dug violently in the back by the broom handle, shifted his position to a chimney further along the row.

' 'E will kom down,' the Lascar said, showing a lot of subservient teeth. The will get 'im down.'

He began to dance up and down as excitedly as apparently he expected the ape to do.

'Butto, Butto, 'e is my own animal. I bring 'im from the jungle.'

'Butto,' said Valentine. 'Is that his name? I think I rather fancy him. Butto. Butto. Good boy.'

The animal fixed this new person to use his name with coal-black eyes and seemed to be weighing up the situation.

'Well, then, get him down,' Valentine said harshly. 'See if you can. Let's have a closer look at him.'

It was Valentine who eventually persuaded the animal to come down by offering him a piece of cake, but even then he cowered in a corner, lame and pathetic. He seemed to take a cautious fancy for Valentine, and presently they were in touching distance.

'Look at his feet!' Valentine exclaimed. 'This criminal has been trying to turn him into a dancing bear! Kick him into the harbour, David!'

David made a menacing move towards the Lascar, who dodged away, but stood at the entrance to the alley shouting abuse.

'See,' said Valentine. 'These great feet. They're badly blistered. That's the way they teach a baby bear to dance. Start the music and then stand him on a bed of hot coals. And look at the stick the fellow has been using - sharp and bloodstained. I have a fancy to take this poor creature, this Butto, home.'

'For Gawd's sake,' David said, 'you'd never get him home. He's too big. You're crazed. You're off your head!'

'Maybe.' But this opposition was just the thing to make Valentine more determined. He sent David off to buy a laundry basket, and while he waited he fed the ape with two more buns and made soothing noises with his lips to calm him down. It was a nightmare of arms and legs and scratches before the squealing, wriggling weight was pushed into the basket and pressed down fighting until the lid was shut and secure. Then it had to be tied firmly to David's saddle. (Valentine had cunningly argued that David's horse was the more docile.) They left Falmouth, pursued until they were well out of the town by the Lascar shouting that he had been robbed.

Once they reached Place House it had been a question of finding somewhere for the beast to live, and Valentine had allotted him the two back attics. But as he entered them on the night of the ball he realized this could only be very temporary because of the smell. No wonder the maids complained.

He shut the second door behind him and whispered,

'Butto!' Two brilliant eyes at once blinked up at him in the candlelight.

'Butto,' he said again. 'I've brought ee a morsel or two t'eat. Here, my handsome.' He held out half a watermelon that he had crushed open downstairs, and watched Butto relishing the juicy fruit until saliva ran down his jaws. When the animal was grunting and blowing with satisfaction Valentine opened a cupboard - which had not yet had its doors torn off its hinges by Butto -- and took out a bottle of salve. With patience and good temper he persuaded Butto to let him put the salve once again on his blistered feet. This he succeeded in doing, receiving one bite (almost a love bite), but satisfied with the recovery. The soles were already hardening. It was perfectly clear now that if Valentine had adopted Butto, Butto had also adopted Valentine. When the healing cream was put away the ape wanted to curl down with Valentine for the night, but Valentine gave him a couple of love taps on his cheek and slid away to return to the human occupied part of the house on the floor below.