The Emperor (27 page)

When Mary Ann suggested that the first course remove should be onion soup, in the making of which Barnard was such an artist that his assistants spoke of it with hushed
reverence, he looked about him in desperation for a
weapon, and picked up the basting-ladle, which was so
heavy it needed two hands to manipulate; but when she
took up the slate and pencil and began to write her suggestions down, he began to weep in sheer frustration. Half an
hour later she left the kitchen glowing with more than the
heat of the fires, leaving the Frenchman twitching with
outrage; and at the door turned back to deliver what,
unknown to her, was the
coup de grace.

‘
By the by,' she said with a charming smile, 'I have long
thought the kitchen badly in need of modernization. You
should not have to cook over open fires: I must see about having a Rumford installed. If you manage so well now, just think what you may do with the right equipment!’

*

The cream ponies arrived at Shawes, and though Lucy was
still cross with James, she decided to give him another
chance, and took him to one side after breakfast and asked him to let Parslow come and fetch the phaeton.

‘
I promise you he will do it very discreetly. If you just
have a quiet word with Hoskins they can manage it between them.'

‘
Thank you,' said James, giving her a boiled look, tut I
shall make my own arrangements. You need not trouble yourself any further.’

Lucy shrugged and said no more, thinking there was time 1[7
for him to think things over and come to a better con
clusion. She did not think he would act immediately: but
only an hour later she was coming down the great staircase and happened to glance out of the window on the landing, and saw Durban leading the cream ponies into the yard.

‘
Damn Jamie,' she muttered to herself. Why must he be
so difficult? she thought. Oh well, I wash my hands of it:
I've done all I can. At least he had had the sense to send
Durban, who was no talking fool, rather than one of the
grooms.

She remained at her post by the window, and watched as
Hoskins came out from the stables and conferred with
Durban. Then James emerged from the house, and the
ponies were tied up while the three men disappeared into
the coach-house. Lucy could guess their errand. James was
intent on having the ponies harnessed to the phaeton at
once so that he could try them out, perhaps to see whether they needed any schooling or exercise before he had them sent up to Héloïse.

They were still in the coach-house when from the corner of her eye Lucy saw Mrs James appear below her in the staircase hall, emerging from the chapel passage, with the
little housemaid Betsey trotting at her heels: judging from
the basket carried by the former and the watering-can by the
latter, they had been arranging the altar flowers. To her own annoyance, Lucy felt herself give a guilty start. Mrs James looked up. She rarely smiled, and did not do so now, only
gave Lucy a long and slightly enquiring look, and Lucy
came briskly down the stairs, smiled as she passed, and said
brightly, 'What a lovely day it is. Let's hope it keeps fine for the week.’

*

Dinner during race week tended to be an evening affair, for
the family spent all day at the racecourse, and even when
the races were over, it took time to prise Jemima and Ned
away from the stables, where they would spend hours
making much of the horses and holding long post-mortems into the conduct of each race.

Mary Ann felt quite at home with a late dinner-hour, forat Hobsbawn House she had been accustomed to wait until
her father had finished his day's business before dining. She
went to the racecourse the first day in her own vis-a-vis with James sitting opposite her, while Chetwyn, Lucy, Ned and
Jemima rode in Jemima's elderly barouche. The parties
united in the grandstand, where the Morlands had their own
private box, and there they were joined by the six guests
from Shawes.

Mary Ann enjoyed the day very much. The weather was fine, the company agreeable and more than elegant; and if
she understood little about horses, she could enjoy the races
simply as a spectacle, and with Viscount Ballincrea's kind
help, she even made a few wagers. He appointed himself her
gallant for the day. She liked his pleasant humour and
elegant manners, and it was obvious that he admired her, which was balm to her bruised spirit, suffering under months of neglect and lack of appreciation. He was handsome, rich,
and titled, just about her own age, and she felt all the
compliment of his attentions to her.

In the middle of the day a large hamper made its appearance, and cold meats, pastries, fruit and cake were brought
out, complete with chilled champagne, and ices provided
from the Shawes ice-house. Elegant china, glasses and
silverware made the meal a little more than a picnic, and
Lord Ballincrea stationed himself at Mary Ann's side,
supplied her plate, and refilled her glass with such good-humoured punctiliousness that Mary Ann was glad to find James's eyes on them. It was good, she thought, through a haze of sun, excitement and wine, that he should see that other men found her worth talking to..She hoped he might come over to them; but after a moment he turned his gaze away and entered into conversation over the barrier with a lady outside their box whose large hat prevented Mary Ann from recognizing her face.

When the races were finished for the day, however, she had to give up her attendant for the time being, for Lord
Ballincrea had to return with the Shawes party to dress.
While he was saying goodbye to her, James strolled over. Ballincrea still had hold of her hand, and James gave them both a look of lazy amusement and said in a tone of
 
complete indifference, 'Well, madam, have you had an agreeable day?'

‘Most agreeable, thank you,' she said firmly.

‘I am come to tell you I do not return with you in your carriage. I am going with my mother and the others to Twelvetrees,' he said. Mary Ann smarted at the uncivility, and even Lord Ballincrea stared a little as with no more ceremony than a slight bow to divide between them, James turned and went away.

Ballincrea's manners were too polished to embarrass her
by noticing the incident any further, but he demonstrated
his feelings by bowing over her hand and saying with the greatest kindness, 'Allow me to do myself the honour of escorting you to your carriage, Mrs Morland; and pray let me hand you your wrap. It is easy to take a chill when the shadows lengthen after a hot day.’

Oxhey received her in the hallway of Morland Place, with
Dakers and Durban hovering in the background; but
Durban had the tact to melt away as soon as he saw Mary Ann was not accompanied.

‘
Mr James has gone with the others to Twelvetrees,'
Mary Ann said in her most controlled voice. 'I shall take the
opportunity to check the arrangements for dinner, Oxhey.
There is plenty of time — I dare say her ladyship will not be
back for at least an hour.'

‘
You're looking fagged, madam,' Dakers said sternly. The heat has been too much for you. I am sure you have
the headache. It would be much better for you to go straight
upstairs and lie down for a while.’

This was one time when Mary Ann did not want sympathy. She wanted to be magnificent, not pathetic. 'I'm
perfectly all right, Dakers,' she said crossly. 'Please don't
fuss. Oxhey, come with me to the dining parlour, will you? I
want to go over the placings with you. Has the table been decorated as I instructed?'

‘
Let me order some tea for you, at least, madam,' Dakers
 
said, undeterred. 'I dare say you were drinking champagne, and to my mind that is never a good idea in the heat of the day.’

It was necessary to give Dakers something to do, and the
idea of tea was in any case appealing. 'Very well, have some
tea sent in to me in the dining parlour. Come Oxhey,' said Mary Ann.

By the time the party from Twelvetrees arrived, Mary
Ann was upstairs taking her bath, with Dakers at hand
laying out her gown, and the maid Betsey, whom Mary Ann
had taken more and more to herself, pouring the water and standing by with the towels.

The marble clock chimed massively from the open door of the drawing-room as Jemima led her party in, and she exclaimed, 'Good heavens, is that the time? I must have my bath. Oxhey, is everything ready for tonight? I haven't time to check anything.' She spoke unconcernedly, long accustomed to trusting her servants.

‘
Mrs James Morland has done so already, my lady,'
Oxhey said gloomily, 'and has seen to the table herself.'

‘
Well, that was kind of her,' Jemima said, not pausing on her way to the stairs. 'Is Rachel in my room? I will meet you
all before dinner, children.’

*

Mary Ann dressed with great care for that evening, in a
gown no-one had seen yet. It was of mazarine blue silk with a three-quarter length slashed gauze over-tunic, and a long
train. Her headdress was a chaperon of silver tissue and blue
velvet ribbons, and her hair was taken up and wound in and
out of it, and finished off with white feathers. The neck of
the gown was deeply décolleté, so that the whiteness of her bare neck and bosom were a fit setting for the magnificent sapphire and diamond necklace and earrings her father had given her a wedding-gift. Dakers so far forgot herself as to
clasp her hands and cry, 'Oh you look so lovely, Miss!' as
she turned from the mirror, and she responded as surprisingly
by kissing Daker's cheek before taking her fan and reticule from Betsey and walking downstairs.

She had no competition in the drawing-room from Lucy, whose advanced pregnancy required soberness of dress, or from Lady Morland, who was wearing black silk the better
to shew off her diamond collar; and though when the
Shawes party arrived, the women were very elegantly dressed, and the Hon. Helena was perfectly beautiful, she had the pleasure of seeing Viscount Ballincrea's admiring look, and of having him come to her side as soon as he had paid his respects to his hostess.

When Oxhey announced dinner, she had to step aside
and enter the dining saloon last on John Anstey's arm, for
all the other women ranked above her, but it gave her the opportunity to observe people's expressions when they saw
how she had decorated the dining table. The centrepiece
was the enormous silver epergne which her father had sent after Fanny had been born, and which depicted St Francis surrounded by animals and feeding birds from his hands; it appeared to be rising out of a sea of pink and white roses, which were massed about its base.

At intervals down the table were placed four five-branch candelabra, which bore white candles and were wreathed with ivy, which mingled with long ropes of roses trailing down the centre of the table and branching at intervals to
hang over the edge of the cloth between the guests. The wall sconces were similarly wreathed with ivy, and the fireplaces
were decorated with ropes of flowers looped in festoons
along the chimney-piece.

Most of the family's portraits of horses had been rele
gated over the years to the walls of the dining saloon. Each was decorated with a garland of laurel, and Mary Ann had
had the side tables rearranged so that candles could be set
up on them to illuminate the pictures. All the family silver had been got out and polished to a dazzling brilliance; and as a final touch, the fingerbowl before each guest was decor
ated with a raised relief of galloping horses. These Mary
Ann had ordered for the occasion from the silversmith in Stonegate.

She breathed a sigh of satisfaction at the sight of it all, knowing that at last she had done something to be noticed.
It was impossible for the guests not to comment. Jemima
had been startled into exchanging one unguarded glance
with James, but recovered herself almost instantly to reply handsomely to the compliments being offered her by the Ansteys and Ballincreas, saying, 'The credit goes not to me but to my daughter-in-law, Mrs James Morland. It was herown thought entirely. My dear,' to Mary Ann, 'how clever you have been. You have quite transformed this room.’

Mary Ann took her seat happily, replying with a smile
and a bow to all the compliments which were being pressed
on her. As dinner began, however, she was astonished to
find that the dishes on the table were not the ones she had
ordered in her long and painful conference with M.
Barnard. Only the onion soup was there of her first course,
and even that was supported by a chilled pink turnip soup
she had not even seen in the receipt book. The dishes were
magnificent: a whole salmon dressed with egg-sauce, a
glazed smoked saddle of mutton, a ragoo of veal kidneys, a dish of venison steaks in a plum and madeira sauce, another of green peas and spring onions, wine jellies, an orange pond-pudding — these were immediately to her view as she sat down, and there were other dishes further up she could not see — but they were not what she had chosen.