The Emperor (3 page)

Mary looked mystified. 'At what time, ma'am? How
could I accept Captain Harvey when he never offered for
me?'

‘
Oh, as to that, I expect he meant to,' Flora said, and
Mary, catching Charles's eye, could not prevent herself from laughing.

*

Later that day, Mary found Lucy alone in the library,
searching for a medical book to read.

‘
Nothing but novels,' she said with a sigh as she looked
over her shoulder to see who had entered.

‘
Oh, don't!' Mary begged. 'You sound just like James's
wife. There is nothing wrong in reading novels.'

‘
Of course not,' Lucy replied, ‘if that is what you like. It's
just that I never have time for them. Does Mrs James say
they are had, then?'

‘
Oh no. If she would only say so, one could argue with
her. But whenever she sees me reading, she is bound to ask
me what book I have, and when it turns out to be something
jolly like
The Recluse of the Lake
or
The Mysteries of
Udolpho,
she turns up her nose and says 'Oh, a novel!' as
though I had done something vulgar; and then she takes up
a piece of sewing from the poor-basket, or a book of
sermons. She only asks me to make a point of her own
superiority. There's no bearing it.'

‘
Poor Mary. And poor Mrs James, too,' Lucy added
thoughtfully.

‘
I notice you haven't gone home with Chetwyn, for all
your sympathy,' Mary said caustically.

‘
As to that, I think Chetwyn prefers it when I don't go
with him. And there's nothing much for me to do there,
with you out visiting your friends, and Ned and Chetwyn
and Mama out around the estate all day, and James – God knows where! Probably in the Maccabbees Club; and that
leaves me all alone with Mrs James, and I've nothing in
common with her. All the same, I can't help feeling sorry for
her. You know and I know, Polly, that James only married
her out of duty, and he is not the sort of person to make the
best of things.'

‘
You mean he only married her out of spite, because he
couldn't have Héloïse,' Mary amended, 'and he's not the
sort of person to forgive her for not being the woman he
loves.’

*

Flora and Charles had no children of their marriage, though
Flora had two of her first marriage, her daughter Louisa,
now married and expecting her first child, and a younger
son, Jack, who was serving in the navy aboard her brother
William's ship. The heir to Charles's title and estate was
therefore his half-brother, Horatio, who was a Captain in
the 10th Light Dragoons, a very smart and fashionable regiment, permanently safe from actually having to go
abroad and fight, because the King refused to allow the
Prince of Wales to risk himself in active service.

Horatio had married Lady Barbara Rushton, the
daughter of the Duke of Watford, and now that she had
presented him with a son, Marcus, the line seemed to be
secured. Horatio had removed from Chelmsford House
after his marriage, and set up his household in Park Lane. It
had been something of a relief to Flora, who could never
quite convince herself that Horatio was not simply waiting
and hoping for Charles to die; though she acknowledged to
herself that the feeling was probably unreasonable, and that
her dislike of Horace's pale, protruberant eyes and white
eyelashes had prejudiced her.

He was certainly an ideal guest for her dinner party, for
he was a personal friend of the Prince himself, and had been
present at the wedding ceremony, and so could furnish all
the details that everyone would he eager to hear. He brought with him on her request two other Dragoons
officers: a Mr Danby Wiske, an extremely fashionable
younger son of a Yorkshire family, and a Mr George Brum
mell, whose father had been a Treasury official and much
valued by the King.

The small dining parlour, with its sea-green draperies and
peacock-blue upholstery, and the handsome mahogany
table which just held fourteen to a nicety, was as comfort
able as it was elegant. Dinner advanced with the afternoon,
and the candles and the dessert were brought in together,
the curtains drawn to cut out the grey twilight, and the
atmosphere set for a little cosy scandal.

‘Is it true that the Princess never washes? And that Lord
Melbourne had to tell her to change her linen when they
were on the boat coming across?' Lucy wanted to know.

‘Who could have told you that?' Charles asked, amused.

‘
Chetwyn, of course. And he said that the Princess's
father, the Duke of Brunswick, told Melbourne that she was
mad and ought to be locked up.'

‘
I don't suppose any of those things is true,' Flora said
hastily, seeing Lady Tonbridge looking disapproving.

‘
At all events, it seems that the Prince does not mean to
give up Lady Jersey,' said Lucy.

‘
He never did,' Charles said. 'Princess Caroline was told
from the beginning that Lady Jersey was to be a Lady of the
Bedchamber. What is more surprising is that Lady Jersey
should ever have ousted Mrs Fitzherbert. I for one always
thought that she was permanent.'

‘There's plenty of precedent for it, after all,' Mary said
unconcernedly. 'Kings have always made their mistresses
serve in their wives' households, and the wives have simply
had to put up with it. We learned that in history.'

‘
I have always thought,' Lady Tonbridge said, addressing the air with massive disapproval, 'that education of
that
sort ought to be confined to boys. It was never considered in my
dear father's household that education contributed to that
delicacy of mind which one looks for in females. My sisters
and I were taught to be accomplished, not learned, and we
all made extremely good matches.
That
was my dear
father's plan for his daughters.’

A brief silence followed this unanswerable remark, while
Lord Tonbridge looked unhappy and embarrassed at his
mother's suggestion that the Morland girls lacked delicacy. Lady Tonbridge had been infuriated at what she considered
Mary's presumption in making her son fall in love with her,
and had been triumphant when she married an obscure man
of neither fortune nor family; and not all the evidence to the
contrary would convince her that it was Lord Tonbridge
who had pursued Mary, or that she had chosen Captain
Haworth of her own free will.

Flora rescued the conversation. 'You were in the escort
which was sent to meet the Princess at Greenwich, were not
you, Mr Brummell?' Mr Brummell bowed assent. 'I believe
the coach was much delayed — was that Lady Jersey's
doing?'

‘
No, your ladyship,' said Mr Brummell, 'though I believe
Lady Jersey would he glad to take the credit. When the
coach did arrive, she demanded to be allowed to sit beside
the Princess, instead of taking the backward seat.'

‘
Claimed it made her sick, riding backwards,' put in Mr
Wiske.

‘
Dear me! What did the Princess say to that?' asked
Flora.

‘
Oh, she was not obliged to notice it,' Brummell said.
‘Malmesbury told Lady Jersey that if ruling backwards really
made her sick, she should have refuseu the position of Lady
of the Bedchamber, since taking the backward seat was one
of its duties. After that, her ladyship could not argue
further. She vented her spleen by criticizing the Princess's
clothes and appearance in a very audible voice.'

‘
The poor Princess,' said Louisa. 'I feel so sorry for her. I
should hate to travel hundreds of miles from a foreign land,
all to be insulted by Lady Jersey.'

‘
Indeed, ma'am,' Mr Brummell said with a droll look,
‘you need not put yourself at so much trouble. You might
go tomorrow only to Carlton House and be insulted by her
there.'

‘
It's Mrs Fitzherbert I feel sorry for,' Lucy said. ‘To be
put aside like that, after ten years' service, is very hard.'

‘
Mrs Fitz will be all right,' Horatio said. 'She has moved
into a very nice house in Tilney Street, just round the corner
from us, and there she sits, all right and tight, out of the
way, but not too far to be called back.'

‘
Thought she'd turn up at the wedding,' Mr Wiske
remarked. 'Lady Jersey did.'

‘I believe the Prince was drunk?' said Flora.

‘
We all were – as wheelbarrows,' said Mr Wiske. 'Can't think why royal weddings are always put on so late in the day. At Carlton House we are always three parts foxed by
that hour.'

‘
Lord Melbourne said that the Prince looked like
Macheath going to his execution,' murmured Mr Brummell.
‘A man doing a thing in desperation.'

‘
He'd had several glasses of brandy, according to
Bedford,' Horatio admitted, 'but, damnit, a man must get
his courage up for a thing like that. I could have done with a
glass or two myself, just to get through that tedious long
ceremony.'

‘
And the Archbishop did nothing to shorten it,' Mr
Brummell said innocently, 'lingering as he did over the
passages which refer to lawful impediments to marriage. I
wonder what he could have been thinking of?'

‘
Mr Brummell, I do believe you are very wicked,' Flora
said approvingly.

‘
Dashed good fellow, George,' Mr Wiske remarked to
Lucy, who was his neighbour, in what he evidently thought was an undertone, 'only, too particular about his waistcoats
and neckties and such. As good a fellow as ever lived. True
as turnips.’

And Lucy, liking him both for his loyalty to his friend,
and for the unexpectedly rustic simile, bestowed on Mr
Wiske a smile that made him first blink, then blush.

*

In the drawing-room, Lady Tonbridge was soon wanting
whist, and Horatio and Lady Barbara hastened to oblige
her, for she was a notoriously bad player who nevertheless
liked to play high, and Horatio was not so plump in the
pocket as to be able to resist such easy prey.

John Anstey and Charles retired to a table where the
newspapers were spread, and discussed politics. Flora and
Hannibal Harvey took possession of one sofa, and soon had
their heads together in the old manner, while Mary good-
naturedly took Louisa to another and let her talk about
babies and confinements. This left Lucy to entertain the
three unmarried gentlemen, and the division seemed natural
enough, despite her being a married woman. She had been
brought up with her brothers, and her weeks in the ward
room of the
Diamond
had taught her how to converse with
men on equal terms. Their group was the liveliest in the
drawing room.

They had been talking of hunting, and Lucy had noticed
that Mr Brummell's face was fixed in an expression of ironic disapproval.

‘Do you not hunt, Mr Brummell?' she asked.

‘
I fear I am obliged to, your ladyship,' he sighed. 'When
society is so misguided as to go out of Town in the middle of
winter, one is obliged to follow, whatever the inconveni
ence.'

‘
Do you mean you don't like the country? Why ever
not?' Lucy asked in astonishment.

He gave a delicate shudder. 'It is cold, Lady Aylesbury,
and wet, and muddy. I am a hothouse creature, I cannot
bear discomfort; and yet in a country house I am obliged to
creep from one inadequate fire to another, across the seas of
icy draught, and to spend a great part of each day in severe discomfort slaughtering birds and beasts to whom, really, I
wish no harm at all. How could civilization have gone so far
astray?'