The Regency (84 page)

‘
No, of course not. I'm sorry, darling. I'll let you know my
decision as soon as I can.’

*

The news came of another victory for Wellington's army on
22 July at Salamanca, where Marmont's army had been
utterly defeated. Fourteen thousand of the French had died,
and the remnant, thoroughly demoralised, had scattered and
were said to be straggling back towards France.

John Anstey called to give Lucy the earliest news of it. ‘So
now the road is open to Madrid,' he said. 'It's the most
marvellous victory! Shews how a compact force of ours can
overthrow a great mass of Frenchmen. And the Spanish
irregulars are picking away at the French in the south and
wearing them down. If Wellington can hold Madrid and break
the French supply-line, victory may be in sight at last.'

‘Victory?' Lucy said. 'I can hardly believe it.'

‘
Victory in the Peninsula,' John explained. 'For the rest —'
he shrugged. 'But for the moment, we're making as much of
it as possible. The Opposition's been damned noisy lately
about the cost of the war. Liverpool's seeing the Regent at the moment, about another title for Wellington. He's to be made
Marquis for Salamanca. I wish to God we could bring him
home, to shew him to the mob, but of course he can't be
spared.'

‘
How often have we heard those words,' Lucy said.
'Collingwood — Haworth —’

John looked at her with sympathy. 'Still no word about the
little girl?’

Lucy shook her head. 'I still have four people looking for
her, but after so long, I don't suppose they will find any
tracks. I can only hope she's on a ship somewhere.'

‘You've written to her father?'

‘
Oh yes. Now I dread receiving his reply.' She reached out
a hand blindly for Thomas, stationed at her side, and drew
him against her. 'Africa was the dearest to his heart. He
hardly knows Hippolyta, though he loves her for Mary's sake,
but he had Africa with him from birth. Losing her would be a
dreadful blow.’

There was nothing John could say to comfort her, so after a
moment he changed the subject. 'Have you set the date for
Flaminia's wedding yet?’

Lucy roused herself from a deep reverie. 'What? Oh, yes, I
meant to tell you — it's to be the fourteenth of September.
You will come, of course? And bring Louisa — unless you've
got her pregnant again?'

‘
Lucy!' John gave her a look of exasperated affection. 'I suppose, then, that you won't be going out of Town for the
summer? You'll have too much to do, with a September
wedding?'

‘
That's right. I've decided to keep this house on, and she
can be married from here. There'll be too many guests for the
other house, what with all the Chetwyns and Manverses and Cavendishes, to say nothing of the Sale side of the family. The
Knaresboroughs will be staying, of course, and the Ballincreas,
and I suppose I'll have to give the old Marquis a bed, if
he's fit to make the journey. And out of courtesy I'll have to ask Cavendish, the children's other trustee, to stay, though I
expect he'll prefer to stay in a hotel. Hicks keeps rubbing his
hands at the thought of having the house full, but as far as
I'm concerned, the whole thing is a nuisance — a necessary
evil.'

‘It's a good match for her,' Anstey mused. 'Of course,
Wyndham's a bit of a stick, but I meet young Sale at the club,
and he seems a very decent sort of fellow.'

‘
He's of her rank; the family is all right, and the settle
ments are good,' Lucy said tersely.

‘
How hard you've become, Lucy,' Anstey said. He remem
bered the merry, passionate, tumble-haired child she had
been, and was saddened. 'Is that all you care about?’

Lucy looked annoyed. 'Of course, I'm glad he's a pleasant,
personable man as well; but I would hardly have been doing
my duty if I hadn't settled her as well as possible, would I? I
never thought you would be so romantic, John. You've a large
family of your own — don't you want them to be established
creditably?'

‘
Yes, I'm sorry. I was being unjust,' he said frankly.
'Forgive me.’

Lucy nodded. 'Minnie seems to like him well enough. He
came courting and did it very nicely, paid her a compliment or two, bowed over her hand — attentive, but not fulsome. I
must say I liked him better for it, and Minnie is half-way
convinced she's in love with him. And she likes being the centre
of attention for once in her life, opening wedding-presents,
visiting silk-warehouses and so on.'

‘
Everyone loves a wedding,' Anstey smiled. 'I suppose
Hippolyta's going to be a bridesmaid?'

‘
Yes, and Fanny and Rosamund; and Helena Greyshott's
daughter, Thalia, is to be flower-girl. I think Fanny's enjoying
herself most of all. I heard her say to Rosamund the other
day that as a bridesmaid she gets all the glory and a new
gown, without actually having to get married.' John laughed,
and Lucy gave an unwilling smile. 'James is going to have
trouble with that girl before he's done.'

‘
She's certainly set the town by the ears. Is James coming
to the wedding?'

‘
Yes, he and Héloïse will travel down, and take Fanny back
with them.'

‘
I expect half Fanny's pleasure in being a bridesmaid is that
it means she can stay in Town longer,' Anstey said shrewdly.
'How she'll settle in York, after a London Season, I can't
imagine. Are the happy couple to make a wedding-trip?'

‘
Sale's taken a house at Isleworth for six months. They'll
be going straight there after the wedding, but after that, I
don't know what's intended. Wyndham's signed over the
cadet estate at Stainton to them, but I don't know if Sale
will care to live there. It's in the Chilterns, rather far from
London for a club man. I suppose he might leave Minnie there
and live in London himself
en garcon,
or he might take a
Town house. By that time, it won't be my problem.'

‘
By then you'll have Rosamund ready to bring out,' John
said with a smile. 'If you can get her and Polly settled as well
as Minnie, you'll have nothing to reproach yourself with.'

‘Except having lost Africa,' she said quietly.

*

The news of the victory at Salamanca, and of Wellington's further ennoblement, was received in London with joy and
excitement, which after dark spilled over into rioting. Gangs of drunken men roamed the streets carrying flaming torches, chanting and singing, and attacking anyone they didn't think
was celebrating hard enough. They threw stones or poked
poles through the windows of houses not shining lights for the
victory. They overturned coaches and set light to them, and
terrorised pedestrians, and all through the night woke up
householders by firing pistols and muskets into the air, and
then demanding to know if they had heard the news, and
what they thought of it.

The following day, as the debris was swept from the
thoroughfares, the rumours began to circulate that the gangs
had not been genuine revellers, but had been mobs in the pay
of the war party in Parliament. On that night and the sub
sequent one, the riots were repeated, two houses were set on
fire, and eight people were killed, as well as numerous others
being wounded.

After the first night, Lucy had ordered the shutters to be
put up as soon as darkness fell, and had stationed servants
with buckets of water in case of fire, and they had sat it out with nothing more harmful than a few alarms, though Fanny
had complained bitterly at having to miss the assembly at
Almacks.

The following day while Lucy was sitting in the morning-
room with Docwra, Flaminia, and Thomas, opening the latest
batch of letters of congratulation and replies to wedding-
invitations, there was a rap at the street door.

Lucy looked at Docwra with raised eyebrows. 'Who canthat be? It's too early for visitors.'

‘
I didn't hear a carriage, m'lady,' Docwra said. 'Probably a
messenger with another wedding-present.'

‘At the front door?' Lucy queried.

‘
Some of 'em are told to deliver only by the front door,
m'lady,' Docwra said wisely. ‘So as to get the present noticed. Especially if it's a large parcel, and a messenger in livery.’

A few moments later, Hicks appeared at the door, his face
wreathed in very unprofessional smiles.

‘A visitor, my lady.'

‘
At this hour?' Lucy said. 'Send them away. And why are
you smirking like that?’

Hicks stepped aside, and Major Wiske came in. His face
was very thin and very brown and he had a partly-healed scar
on his left temple, half-covered by his hair. His eyes went
straight to Lucy, and he smiled in such a way that Docwra's
throat tightened, and she caught Flaminia's eye and jerked
her head significantly towards the door.

Lucy had stood up, her eyes wide, taking in everything,
including the scar. ‘Danby!' she said, and in her face surprise
and pleasure struggled for supremacy. He stepped forward and held out his hands, and Lucy crossed the room to him,
placed her own in his, and looked up into his face, astonished
at her own feelings. 'Oh, I've missed you!' she said in a low
voice.

‘
Can't be as much as I've missed you,' he said. Docwra
hurried Minnie and Thomas out of the room, and as soon as
the
door closed behind them, he folded Lucy in his arms and
held her tightly against him for a moment.

Released enough to look up at him, she asked, 'You're
wounded?'

‘
What, that scratch? Just a bit of flying granite, surface
wound, nothing.' He gave her a wry smile. 'Took a ball in the
shoulder, though, at Salamanca. Terrible waste — due for
leave anyway, no need to get m 'self shot too.'

‘
A ball in the shoulder? Where? Which one? Did they get it
out?'

‘
Now, now, steady! Of course they got it out, what do you
think?'

‘
I know about army surgeons,' Lucy said fiercely. 'Butchers
— and drunken butchers at that! Did it break the bone?
There may be splinters. You must let me look at it, Danby.
You don't want it going septic.’

He patted her shoulder comfortingly. 'We have an excellent
surgeon, thank you, ma'am, a skilled man, and as sober as a
Methodist. And it didn't break the bone, and it's healing
nicely, and as for shewing you — you must wait until we're
married for that!’