Supervising Sally (15 page)

It was different for Sally, but so far as Phoebe could judge she did not appear to favour any one man. Phoebe was certain she had forgotten Cowper, but Sally seemed to distribute her favours evenly amongst the young men she knew. Phoebe had half expected her to be falling in and out of love every week, but this had not happened, for which
Phoebe was truly grateful. The girl needed more time to meet several men before she made a choice, and Brussels was an ideal place in which she could do that.

It was time for the last dance, which Phoebe had promised to an elderly man, a retired colonel who said he had known her father when he took the waters at Buxton. He looked tired, and she suggested they sat out. As they were sitting watching the dancers, a lady Phoebe did not know approached them.

‘Colonel, how nice to see you looking so well. And your companion is Miss Kingston, I believe?'

‘Lady Mickleton. Yes, you are correctly informed.'

The colonel rose to his feet and bowed over her hand. He did not appear to be overjoyed at this meeting.

‘I have a message for you, Miss Kingston.'

‘Then I will take my leave,' the colonel said, and moved away.

Lady Mickleton took his seat and smiled at Phoebe. ‘I am so glad to be able to speak to you. Zachary has told me how cleverly you are managing Sally Benton. But I have heard a few other people who are not so approving. Forgive me, child, but I felt someone ought to let you know, and Zachary does not feel it is his place to speak. We are old friends, you understand. '

‘What is being said?' Phoebe asked, puzzled.

‘Well, you are a paid companion, I think. Some of the highest sticklers are of the opinion you should not be treated as an equal to Sally.'

Phoebe paled. ‘They think I should sit in the chaperons' corner, and not dance? Is that what you are trying to tell me?'

Lady Mickleton laughed, and seemed a little embarrassed. ‘Well, yes, child. You are very young, and not, I think, accustomed to Society. It's hardly surprising if all the attention
here in Brussels has gone to your head. My dear, don't look so shattered. You will not be ostracized, if you take a little more care. I'm not advising you to give up dancing totally, just to be a little more careful not to dance every single dance. Some of the old tabbies will say you are on the catch for a rich husband.'

Phoebe stood up. The music had come to an end.

‘Thank you for the warning, my lady. I will, of course, heed it.'

On the following morning the Bradshaw sisters were shown into the drawing-room where Phoebe and Sally were discussing the rival merits of primrose or sea-green silk for a new ball gown Sally wanted. Phoebe, still upset over her encounter with Lady Mickleton the previous evening, and wondering if the woman had been right, tried to appear welcoming, but before she could say more than a few words Hermione burst into eager speech.

‘Phoebe, have you heard the news? That monster is marching towards Paris. We really have to get out of Brussels. Reginald's friends say they are going within days, and shutting the house, so we will have to go too.'

‘Where is Reginald? What does he say?' Phoebe asked.

‘He's still in Ghent, and he sent a message to say he was in the middle of delicate negotiations and could not leave, but we must stay here, and if the Pottertons leave, we must come and beg Sir William to take us in until he can come back and find us somewhere else to live. He knows there would be no room for him as well here.'

‘There's no room for you!' Sally said. ‘There isn't a spare bedroom in this house.'

‘Well, we thought you and Phoebe would be willing to
share, and we could share too,' Dorothy said. ‘Just for a few days. Then no doubt Reginald will be going home, and you must come with us, Phoebe. Jane and your mother would never forgive us if we left you here, in danger.'

Sally, Phoebe could see, was flushed with indignation, and just about to reject this suggestion. She put her hand on Sally's arm.

‘Dorothy, don't you think all this is a little premature? We don't know where Napoleon is, and even if he is marching towards Paris, that does not mean he will come on here. The Pottertons may not leave, and if they do Reginald may be back before they go.'

‘It's so frightening,' Hermione said. ‘Please, Phoebe, Sally, help us.'

‘If there is any need we will do what we can,' Phoebe said, and gripped Sally's arm tightly, shaking it a little.

Sally sat back in her chair and glowered, but Phoebe finally got rid of the sisters without promising anything, by suggesting that if they were anxious about leaving Brussels they should be packing what they could in preparation.

‘Of all the impertinence!' Sally almost exploded when they left. ‘Asking us to share a room! I've never met them before we came here, and they are only distantly connected with you. They've been encroaching ever since we met.'

‘It won't be necessary,' Phoebe tried to reassure her. ‘They can be unpleasant if they feel inclined, so I did not want to give them any cause while we are all still here. But I suspect Reginald will head straight back to England if there seems to be the slightest danger. You won't have to refuse them.'

‘It would give me the greatest pleasure to tell them exactly what I think of them,' Sally said, her expression mutinous.

‘Let your father do it,' Phoebe advised. ‘This is his house, he would have to be consulted. Besides, he may decide to leave himself if there appears to be any danger.'

Zachary was walking through the Grande Place early the following morning when he saw Phoebe, accompanied by Annie, coming towards him. Both carried baskets and had clearly been marketing.

‘Good morning,' he greeted them.

‘Is there any news?' Phoebe asked. ‘We cannot discover anything for certain, but there are rumours that the French are welcoming Napoleon. Is it true?'

‘Some are,' he told her cautiously. He did not wish to cause her any alarm, but the news they were hearing from France was unexpected and disturbing. Instead of halting Bonaparte, as he marched northwards at the head of a small band, one regiment had already joined him at Grenoble. ‘Where is Sally?'

‘She complains of a migraine and is lying in her room with the blinds drawn.'

‘Is it the news which has upset her?'

‘I don't think so. Her father insists we are safe, and says he has no intention of joining those who have moved to Antwerp, or even gone back to England. Sally is not afraid.'

‘I am pleased to hear it. You are not either?'

Phoebe shook her head. ‘Of course not. Napoleon has no army, apart from a few attendants, so what can he do?'

Zachary suddenly made up his mind. He enjoyed Phoebe's company, but apart from the few occasions when they had danced together, he normally saw her only when Sally was with her, and Sally's chatter irritated him. Here was an opportunity to get to know Phoebe better.

‘Then will you come riding with me this afternoon? I have a few hours free and thought I would go and look at the defences to the south of the city.'

Phoebe looked surprised. Was this the sort of invitation Lady Mickleton would advise her to refuse? Then she tossed
her head. She was doing no harm, and if the old tabbies Lady Mickleton said were criticizing her did so, she would ignore them. ‘Well, thank you. That would be interesting. I'd love to come, if Sally doesn't need me.'

‘If she has a real migraine she will want nothing more than a darkened room and quiet for the rest of the day. I will call for you at two.'

Phoebe was ready for him when he arrived, and they were soon trotting along the Charleroi road, through the Forest of Soigny.

Zachary explained what had been done, but confessed that the British expeditionary force was totally inadequate for dealing with Bonaparte if, by some great misfortune, the former emperor gathered an army about him.

‘Wellington came and surveyed the defences last year, but he left the Prince of Orange in charge, and he is not very experienced.'

‘He fought in the Peninsula though. He's a general.'

‘Yes, because he is a good soldier, and we need the Dutch support, but he is only three and twenty.'

Phoebe laughed. ‘My age, my lord, which you thought was too young to control just one young girl.'

Zachary glanced across at her. She was laughing at him, and he grinned ruefully. ‘I was wrong. I apologize.'

‘But I don't think I would care to be in charge of an army. Why was he put in charge here? He is not very popular, I understand, but I'm not sure why.'

‘He was put in charge because we are using Dutch troops. As for his unpopularity, that is mainly because he ignores the Belgians. He prefers to mix with the English and the native Belgians feel neglected.'

‘And many of them prefer the French. Some did well under French rule. Is there any possibility there might be some internal revolt in support of Napoleon?'

Zachary shook his head. ‘They are officials, in the main, not soldiers. But it is very unlikely Bonaparte will get here.'

They rode for several miles, and Phoebe asked many intelligent questions about Bonaparte and the recent wars. Zachary was surprised when they reached the small village of Waterloo.

‘We ought to turn back soon,' he said, ‘are you going out this evening?'

‘We have tickets for a concert, but if Sally is unwell we won't be going.'

‘Then let us ride a little further and have some wine at an inn.'

The wine at La Belle Alliance was thin and sharp, and they did not linger. Zachary escorted Phoebe back to Sir William's house and then went to his own lodgings. He had two rooms on the first floor, plus an attic for his valet. As he mounted the stairs he was surprised to hear voices coming from his parlour. He threw open the door and saw, reclining on a sopha which had been drawn closer to the fire, a slender woman in her thirties, dressed in a white round gown, with a travelling cloak thrown negligently on to a chair. Leaning over the back of the sopha was a tall, grey-haired man, stooped a little from age, his face lined and his cheeks ruddy.

‘My dear Uncle Jonas,' Zachary drawled. ‘To what do I owe this pleasure?'

Sally declared she was much better after her sleep, and did not wish to miss the concert that evening. When they arrived one of the first people they saw was Sir Henry ffoulkes, who came straight up to them, made his bow, and said he hoped the ladies were not concerned by the rumours of Bonaparte's advance across France.

‘We'll stop him,' he said confidently.

‘I'm not at all afraid,' Sally declared. ‘We have an army here to protect us, and that monster has just a few hundred men supporting him.'

Phoebe was observing the young couple closely, trying not to make it too obvious. Sir Henry, tall and willowy, handsome in a boyish manner, had fashionably cut blond hair. She judged him to be in his early twenties, and he was clearly attracted to Sally. By the way the girl beamed up at him Sally returned his regard. He always seemed to be present at all the functions they attended, and was one of the first to solicit Sally's hand for a dance at balls.