The Emperor (69 page)

‘
Oh Lucy,' Charles said, laughing, 'you do one such a lot
of good.'

*

 
The season was cold and damp, and Charles did not mend
as he should. A week later Lucy found him lying back on his
pillows, and breathing with such difficulty that he could only
speak slowly, with frequent pauses. Roberta was clearly
worried about him, though she said little, except that he had
a troublesome cough for which the doctor had sent some
soothing syrup.

‘
If only it were cold and dry,' she said to Lucy, 'it would
not be so very bad; but the damp air oppresses him, and
even the best of fires does not seem to help much.’

Lucy visited every day after that, when engagements
permitted, and though he did not get worse, he did not
improve either. Then came the day when she called at
Chelmsford House on her way back from a drive in the
park, and Hawkins greeted her with an air of suppressed
excitement. With a glance towards the porter's room he
said, 'His lordship has a visitor already, my lady, who
arrived unexpectedly a few minutes ago.’

Lucy paused in the act of taking off her gloves. 'Oh, then I had better not disturb him, Hawkins. Perhaps you will tell
her ladyship that I called?'

‘
I am quite sure her ladyship will wish you to step up, my
lady,' Hawkins said, 'the gentleman being of your acquain
tance. It is Captain Weston, my lady.’

Lucy's heart seemed to jump into her throat, and she
knew she was staring like an idiot, but for the moment she
could not govern herself. Hawkins gave her what was almost
a friendly nod. 'I understand that Captain Weston called at
Upper Grosvenor Street before coming here, my lady. May
I shew you up to his lordship's room?’

Lucy found her voice at last. 'Thank you, Hawkins, but
don't trouble to announce me. I know my way by now.’

She mounted the stairs slowly to give herself time to
think, and paused before the huge mirror on the wall at the
turn of the stairs to examine her appearance. Her face
looked pale and her eyes wide, and she adjusted her expression carefully. She was wearing a pelisse of grey grosgrain
deeply trimmed with muscovy sable, and a ridiculous hat
decorated with a veritable salad of fruit — plums, cherries,
grapes and apricots — and with a half-veil of fine black net,
which she knew became her. She presented a smart,
fashionable, and expensive appearance, and yet she
suddenly felt as shy and awkward as a schoolgirl at the
thought of seeing him again.

She continued up the stairs to Charles's room, scratched
at the door, and opened it. Roberta was sitting beside the
bed holding Charles's hand. Weston was standing on the other side, and all three faces turned towards her as she
entered, but Lucy saw only his. His colour was a shock to
her — she had forgotten how brown he must be after a year
in the Mediterranean — and she noticed that the front part of
his hair was bleached by the sun, and that the back part had grown so long he had tied it in a queue with a bit of ribbon.
As if he had heard her thoughts, he bowed his greetings to her and said, 'Yes, Lady Aylesbury, I need to send for the
hairdresser before I am fit for company! But I knew Lady
Chelmsford would forgive me, and I hope you will too.'

‘Weston,' Lucy said foolishly, 'how came you here?'

‘
Why, I walked up from Whitehall, ma'am,' he said with
a teasing smile.

‘You know very well what I mean,' Lucy said unguardedly.

‘
My ship lies in London Pool. We brought in despatches,
and when I had made my number at the Admiralty. I called
at Upper Grosvenor Street, but your servants told me you
were gone to the Park, and would probably call here after
wards. So I took the liberty of coming to pay my respects to
Lady Chelmsford — '

‘
And hoped to take two birds with one shot,' Roberta
finished for him.

Lucy recovered her composure sufficiently to greet
Roberta and ask Charles how he was. He was not looking
well, his face grey and pinched, his lips with a bluish tinge,
and his breathing audibly no better. But he returned her a
cheerful answer, and said, 'It's good to have Weston back,
even though it will be but a short visit.’

Lucy turned an enquiring look on the captain.

‘
No more than a week,' he said, meeting her eyes. 'I hope
not less, but I have no security of that.’

In that case, she wanted to cry, we must waste no time;
but she forced her eyes away from his glowing brown ones,
and said, 'You find poor Charles in bad case. If only he
could have a cruise in the Mediterranean like you, I believe
he would get better. He needs sunshine, you see, and there
is nothing else we can give him that does him any good -
though I did prevent the burning of pastilles Sir Arthur Bury
recommended,' Lucy added, with a stern look at Roberta.
‘The folly of it - to be taking up the air with burning
rubbish, when Charles can hardly breathe!'

‘
But tell us about the war, Weston,' Charles intervened
tactfully. 'What news do you bring?' Talking made him
cough, and Roberta profferred a cup of watered wine, but
he waved it away, and nodded to Weston to continue.

‘
Well, what can I tell you?' he said. 'We still have the
upper hand at sea, though things have not all gone our way
of late. Admirals Nelson and Keith cannot agree about
anything, and quarrel continually, and Nelson is making a
great cake of himself over Lady Hamilton - wife of Sir
William Hamilton, you know, the ambassador to the Court of Naples. She flatters him in the grossest of terms, and he
takes her advice about everything. It is quite absurd.'

‘But is peace any nearer?' Roberta asked.

Weston shook his head. 'I'm afraid it may be a little
further off. That fellow Buonaparte - he has taken supreme
power in Paris, set himself up as first consul and moved into
the Tuileries, for all the world as though he were king.'

‘
I thought there were three consuls,' Lucy objected.
Weston bowed.

‘That is true. The
coup d'état
last December replaced the
Directory with a three-man consulate, Buonaparte, Camb
acérès, and Lebrun. The wits call them "he, she and it".
Buonaparte may be a soldier, but Cambacérès is a devoted
gourmet with strange sexual tastes, and Lebrun is a book
keeper and dedicated to figures. Neither has any desire to
argue with Buonaparte, and in any case, they are intended
only as makeweights. Their powers are defined purely as
advisory: only the first consul can promulgate laws, and now
that he has had the constitution endorsed by plebiscite, it is
virtually a dictatorship.'

‘
Until he loses a few more battles, and his supporters turn
on him,' Charles said.

‘
He who lives by the sword shall die by the sword,'
Roberta nodded. 'He took power by force of arms, and he
can be removed in the same way.'

‘
Well, yes,' Weston said cautiously. 'However, I don't
think it does to underestimate the man. We all thought he
was finished when he abandoned his army in Egypt, but
somehow he has turned it to his advantage. God knows
what he is going to do next, but one thing is sure - whatever
his move, it will be a bold one.'

‘
As long as we keep control of the seas, we are safe,'
Lucy said, rather tactlessly, considering Roberta came of a
long line of soldiers. But Roberta turned it graciously into a
compliment towards her other guest, and said smilingly, 'As long as we have able captains like Mr Weston, I am sure we
need fear nothing.’

Weston laughed and said, 'Now I know it is time to take
my leave! Indeed, I am sure I have tired the invalid long
enough. I will call again before I sail, Lady Chelmsford, if
you will allow me?'

‘Please do,' Roberta said.

‘
I had better go too,' Lucy said. 'Charles is looking
fagged to death with our noise. I'll call again tomorrow,
Roberta. Captain Weston, I have my curricle outside. May I
convey you somewhere?’

*

Alone at last in the morning room at Upper Grosvenor
Street, Lucy and Weston faced each other. It was not as she
had imagined the first meeting. She had thought that she would fling herself at once into his arms, but there was a
curious shyness to be overcome first.

‘
Why did you take so long to write to me?' Weston asked
at last.

‘I told you in my letter - I was very busy.'

‘
Your letter told me nothing. It was an example of its
kind - two pages, crossed, telling me all and revealing
nothing! What was it, Lucy? Did you have any doubts? I
guessed that that was the case. And yet now I see you face
to face, you do not seem to want to send me away.'

‘I don't,' she said bluntly. 'Yes, I had doubts. They are resolved now. Chetwyn and I –' She hesitated.

‘
You need tell me nothing about that. It is not my busi
ness,' he said gently.

‘
Oh, there is nothing to tell. We go our own ways, and
see little of each other.'

‘
You sound as if you minded. Poor Lucy,' said Weston. 'I
wonder if your doubts are as firmly resolved as you think?’

She met his eyes squarely. 'Do you love me?' she asked
abruptly.

‘
You mean, do I love you
still?
Oh yes – more than ever.
A year at sea,' he added with a grin, 'concentrates a man's
mind wonderfully!’

Lucy was satisfied; but there remained this strange
shyness, and she couldn't find the right words to carry her
over the breach. 'Did Jeffrey enjoy life aboard the
Semele?'
she asked at last, diffidently.

Weston gave her an amused look. 'What do you care
about Jeffrey? Come here.'

‘
Why?' she said defensively, but took a step forward all
the same.

‘
Because,' he said, meeting her half way and taking her in
his arms, 'I want to kiss you, fool.’

When she removed her lips from his at last, she sighed
and rested her chin on his shoulder and remarked obscurely, 'Yes, I was a fool. So we have a week,' she went on, 'before
you go back to sea.'

‘More or less.'

‘
Then we must not waste a minute of it, I once said of
Mary that it was a foolish trick to fall in love with a sailor,
and I'm still of the same opinion.'

‘
Are you in love with me, Lucy?' Weston asked. 'You
have not said so.'

‘I don't know. I feel –'

‘Yes? What do you feel?'

‘
A great gladness that you are here. A great dread of
your going away again.'

‘It will do very nicely to begin with,' he smiled, releasing her from his arms and taking her hand. 'And now, do you think we
might retire to your chamber? A year is a very long time, and
you did say something about not wasting a minute.’

 
Lucy certainly had every intention of visiting Chelmsford
House every day, but somehow there never seemed to be an
opportunity. Weston was obliged to call at the Admiralty
the following day, so Lucy drove him there, and waited until
he was finished to drive him home again. By then it was time for dinner, Weston being accustomed to ship-board
hours, and the rest of the day just disappeared in mysterious
fashion.

On the day after that he had to go to his ship, and Lucy went with him, as eager to inspect the pride of his heart as
he could be to shew it to her. They took oars from West
minster Steps to London Pool, and Lucy was astonished at
how rapidly they crossed the width of London. 'It would
have taken so much longer by road,' she marvelled.
'London traffic is beyond anything.’