The American Duchess (11 page)

“But don’t you see how awkward a situation that puts me in?” she asked earnestly.  “Lord Castlereagh is a Tory—Lady Castlereagh is a Tory; Lord Bridgewater is a Tory-Lady Bridgewater is a Tory; Lord Holland is a Whig—Lady Holland is a Whig. You are a Tory— and I am a Republican!”

“Practically a revolutionary,” he said good-humoredly.

“It’s not funny, Adrian! I
do
believe that all men are created equal.  I am proud that my country elects men like Mr. Adams, a farmer from Massachusetts, to be our president.  I hardly agree with a single solitary thing I hear the people in your party say!”

His face became very serious. “Listen to me, Tracy.  I am not asking you to change your opinions. I do not
want
you to change your opinions. I am perfectly capable of representing what I believe in; you do not have to carry my flag.” He got out of his chair and came across to the sofa on which she was seated.
“Ma mie
,
”
he said softly. “Do you understand what I am saying? You are not to worry about such things.  Just be yourself.”

Tracy was not totally convinced by his words, but she lacked the will to resist. He had possession of both her hands and was bending toward her. She wanted to tell him that it was not quite so easy, but it was impossible to think when he was so close to her. She felt herself to be, as always, completely in his power. “Yes,” she heard herself murmuring weakly. “I understand.”

That discussion had clarified for Tracy some worrying things about Adrian that she had been noticing for a while now. It seemed to her that, below the level of a certain social class, he never really
saw
people. As far as he was concerned, one footman was interchangeable with another.  He was always courteous, sometimes he even knew their names, but they didn’t exist for him as persons.

Tracy was very different. Democracy to her was not a political theory or a form of government; it was a way of life. Her sense of human equality was as natural to her as breathing. She found the class-consciousness of the English profoundly disturbing. It disturbed her most of all that her husband so spectacularly represented all of its blindest beliefs.

And yet—much of what was most admirable in Adrian sprang from his feelings about aristocracy. He was, in so many ways, deeply admirable. Aside from his extraordinary personal charm, he had intelligence and seriousness. His sense of duty was as integral a part of him as his title. 

He
was
a duke. It was an inseparable part of him. She had thought, once, that she would be happier marrying him if he were an American. But as the weeks went by, she realized that the very idea of Adrian as an American was ludicrous. If he were an American, he would not be Adrian.

She thought deeply about their discussion and made some choices.  She would not change her politics, but she would do whatever else she could do to help him advance his career.  She would do it, she told herself grimly, or die trying.

She figured out that she ought to entertain for him. Parliament was not in session, but the government had remained in town to try to deal with the country’s economic crises, and there was a long succession of dinners and receptions, which she and Adrian attended.  The wives and daughters of some of England’s highest nobles were her hostesses and the important role of these women became clearer and clearer.  She would have to do something to show Adrian’s world that his wife was up to standard as a political hostess.

       She also took the step of announcing her own political beliefs instead of just standing mute while other people talked.  Her first sally came at a dinner party, when she and Adrian were standing with a group of people waiting for the meal to be announced.  The discussion, as usual, centered on politics, and Mr. Park, who was at the Treasury Board, turned to her with a courteous smile. “What would you do, Duchess, if you were in Parliament?”

It was the sort of question she would previously have turned aside with a laugh and a comment about her ignorance. Tonight she took a deep breath, sent a dazzling smile around the group, and answered him. “If I were in Parliament, Mr. Park, I should vote for every reform that could possibly be voted for. I should be for universal manhood suffrage, workers’ rights, tenants’ rights, the education of everybody, and the abolition of the House of Lords.”

When Tracy had smiled all the men in the group had imperceptibly leaned toward her. When she finished speaking they were all still staring with pleasure at her lovely, animated face. Lord Liverpool, the Prime Minister and a very stiff Tory, said to her husband, “You’ve married a regular revolutionary, Hastings.”

Adrian smiled. “Yes, but I knew that before the fact, so I can’t complain.”

“Certainly not,” said Lord Liverpool, looking at Tracy with open admiration, and all of the gentlemen smiled in agreement.

Nobody seemed to be at all disturbed by her radical stand. As time went on, and she continued to speak her mind, she realized that they simply did not take her seriously. She was an American. They didn’t expect her to be sensible about politics.

Her initial feeling was indignation at what she saw as their smug condescension. Then her common sense took over. If they
had
taken her seriously, her marriage would be in deep trouble. All in all, she decided philosophically, as long as she had Adrian, she would tolerate being condescended to.

Chapter 14

For leaving apart what honor it was to all of us to serve such a lord as he whom I declared unto you right now, every man conceived in his mind an high contentation every time we came into the duchess’ sight.

—The Book of the Courtier

The unofficial government convention broke up at the end of August with everyone looking forward to pleasant leisure doings in the country. Tracy discovered to her dismay that it was a custom for political and society hostesses to entertain large parties of people at their estates for a week or more, but Adrian assured her that they would be spending a quiet month or two at Steyning Castle before undertaking any more socializing. She was delighted to hear this news; the last month had been rather a strain.

Aside from the politics, there were other aspects to life in English high society that Tracy found strange and upsetting. The political issue appeared to have been solved, but other problems remained. For instance, the amount of gambling that went on in her husband’s world shocked her to her core.

Tracy was a Yankee; she had a value for money. She knew where it came from—it came from hard work and effort. The sight of dozens of glittering aristocrats sitting up all night over a table of faro, winning and losing fantastic sums of money, disturbed her profoundly. Her husband did not seem to be interested in gambling, but she was uneasy. She said something of the sort to him once, tentatively, and had been surprised by the abruptness of his response. She said nothing more to him about gambling but the uneasiness remained.

The other aspect of English upper class life that shocked her was the promiscuity. She did not think she would ever in her life forget the casual words of Lady Fanny Melburn when she answered Tracy’s question about the identity of a very pretty young woman who was talking to the Duke. “Oh, that’s Sophia Hawley. One of the Hawlian Miscellany, you know.”

Tracy did not know. “The Hawlian Miscellany?” she asked, puzzled.

“The Hawley family,” her informant answered readily. “The children of the Countess of Cambridge.” Lady Fanny laughed lightly. “They are called the Hawlian Miscellany on account of the variety of fathers alleged to be responsible for their existence.”

Tracy, a true daughter of Puritan New England, was horrified. Marital infidelity was almost beyond the scope of her comprehension. Yet, once her eyes were opened, she saw it all around her in London. Among married women the practice of having lovers was too common even to stir much comment. The only rule, it seemed, was that one must keep up appearances.

This was a subject she never broached to Adrian. She was afraid to. She was afraid to find out what he thought on the subject.

She was very glad to be going home to Steyning Castle. She wanted
to have him to herself for a while.

Unfortunately, life at Steyning Castle was not quite the reprise of her honeymoon that Tracy had hoped for. For one thing, Steyning was a very much larger establishment than Thorn Manor. Tracy had been stunned to drive up to the front door of her new home and find forty people waiting for her on the lawn. They were the servants the Duke explained to her kindly, and Tracy felt her jaw drop. She thought she had had a large household staff in London, but it was tiny compared to this.

At Steyning Castle she had a housekeeper, a butler a cook and many many housemaids, footmen, coachmen, pantry boys, scullery maids and still-room maids. There were also grooms for the stables and gardeners for the gardens.

“I don’t see how anyone can say there’s an employment problem in England,” she said to her husband, after she had run the gauntlet of the servant line-up. “Half of the country appears to work for you!”

She renewed her acquaintance with the Duke’s sister, who was reserved but shyly friendly, and made the acquaintance of Mary’s governess, Miss Alden. Miss Alden was a pleasant, intelligent woman of about thirty, and Tracy had great hopes of making a friend of her. However, to Tracy’s dismay, the English consciousness of class interfered with this promising idea. Even when they were conversing alone together about books, two women who had quite a lot in common, Miss Alden always made it clear that she knew that Tracy was the Duchess and she was just a governess. Miss Alden never sat until Tracy was seated, never spoke until Tracy was finished speaking, never disagreed with any opinion Tracy might advance. Tracy felt as if they were both caught in a cobweb of convention and protocol from which escape was impossible. She was the Duchess. The social distinction between her and the governess was too great to be overcome. She found the whole relationship very depressing.

And always, at the back of her mind, was the thought of her father. She did not consciously think of him all the time; indeed she tried not to. But the awareness of him and his illness was always there, a dull ache that became noticeable as soon as she was quiet and had time to remember. She wrote him long, newsy letters full of cheerfulness. And she cried when she folded them up to be sent.

There was another reason as well for the unsteadiness of her emotions. She thought she was with child. For the time being she kept her suspicions to herself. She did not want to tell the Duke until she was certain. Having a child would be a very serious matter to him; she did not want
to
make a mistake.

She was quite certain of its importance, although he had said nothing to her on the subject. He rarely spoke about the things that deeply mattered to him. For all his charm and his instinct for relations, he was a very reserved man. For instance, he rarely ever mentioned his years in the army. Only once had she gotten an inkling of how he felt about the war. Lord Mulhaven had been talking about the military situation in Greece and had asked the Duke’s opinion. “About war I agree with Wellington,” her husband had answered shortly. “The only thing as bad as defeat is victory.” And he had removed himself from the conversation.

Tracy respected his reticence. He had been an exceptionally good soldier, as she discovered from sources other than himself, but the war had evidently left some scars. To her mind, a war
should
leave some scars, and his sensitivity only increased her admiration for him.

She admired him. She loved him. But he seemed more than ever obscure to her. He was as busy at Steyning Castle as he had been in London. He was a landlord on a scale unheard of in America, even in the South. In addition to his work for the government, he was Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports, and as such presided over the local court of Shepway as chief magistrate. The extent of his duties and responsibilities staggered her.

It was the precise nature of her duties and responsibilities that remained unclear. Adrian always managed to find a part of the day to take her driving. He held a Public Day and introduced her to his tenants. He appeared to expect no more of her than that she be an ornament to his home, but that was not a position that appealed to Tracy.

She seemed to be so extraneous to his life and his activities. She wanted to share with him some of his life at home, since she was so unable to share in his political life. He was often closeted for hours at a time with his man of business and estate managers, but when she asked him what they spent so many hours doing, he had answered with unusual shortness, “I am trying to rectify the neglect of generations. It is not an edifying job, I may say.” His attitude had not encouraged further inquiry and Tracy, feeling rather snubbed, had said nothing more on the subject

Clearly, he did not want her to intrude into his domain. He was also, equally clearly, a very busy man who did not have the day to devote to entertaining his wife. She had too much time on her hands and began, tentatively at first, to take up the reins of her household. Here she met with rather more success. Mrs. Map, the housekeeper, was very pleasant and the servants adored the new Duchess. She was so lovely, so friendly, so interested. She noticed them. She noticed Molly, the sixteen-year-old scullery maid who was red-eyed from crying because she was homesick; she noticed the gardener’s assistant, whose face was swollen with toothache; she noticed the lumpy mattresses in the servants’ wing and ordered new ones.

She was shocked by what she regarded as the servility of the British working class and spoke her mind forcibly to Miss Alden one afternoon. Mary was out riding and Tracy and the governess were having tea in the library. “I’ll tell you what I think of the whole English servant system, Miss Alden,” she said, angrily stirring sugar into her tea. “I think it is disgusting.” She had just sent the gardener’s assistant to the dentist, and she was really disturbed.