Supervising Sally (22 page)

‘A whole year?' Sally was aghast. ‘Mama!'

‘You are both young,' Lady Benton began, and Sally interrupted.

‘But I know I won't change my mind!'

She had soon forgotten George Cowper, Phoebe thought, and then chided herself for the thought. Sally had used him as a means of rebellion. Her affection for Sir Henry, and his for her, were genuine. They seemed deep in love, and Phoebe felt considerable jealousy of her young friend.

‘Of course not,' Lady Benton said, ‘I am not suggesting that. You need to buy your trousseau, and there are a hundred other things to be done.'

‘I don't care for that sort of thing. Mama, Henry is a soldier, he could be killed at any moment!'

Sir Henry spoke for the first time. ‘We'll stop Boney, Sally, you needn't fear for me. And your mother is right. If you don't have a lovely wedding, you might regret it in the future. We're both young, we can afford to wait.'

He would be so good for Sally, Phoebe thought approvingly. He was sensible, and would control her starts.

‘We ought both to return to England at once, I need to finish the house, and you need to plan your trousseau,' Lady Benton said, but Sally looked at her in amazement.

‘Mama, I can't! You wouldn't drag me away from Henry now! There's no danger, I promise!'

‘If there is any danger, I will make sure Sally goes to England, Lady Benton. It would be hard on us to be separated so soon.'

A sensible young man, Phoebe decided. And it gave her a few more weeks of employment. She felt selfish at the thought, but knew she must begin to consider her own future.

‘Let the child stay,' Sir William said, beaming at his daughter. ‘We must give a small party for her friends, to announce the betrothal. A week today, a dinner, perhaps?'

‘A party, yes, but this dining-room is so small, it can only accommodate a dozen people. And we cannot comfortably have more than twenty people in this drawing-room. I would not wish to ask Madame Antoine's help again so soon, so is there a room in a hotel we could hire? It must be soon if I am to return to Benton Manor and the building work.'

‘Leave it to me,' Sir William said. ‘I agree we cannot ask Madame Antoine to lend us her house again, but she will know of other places.'

Zachary had more work than he wanted, with all the reports coming from France and elsewhere, but at least it diverted his thoughts from Phoebe and the puzzle of how he was to talk with her and persuade her he really wished to marry her. He excused himself from as many social occasions as he could, while the duke, giving the impression of calm and confidence they all needed, was seen everywhere, attended every party, and gave his own entertainments, mainly a weekly ball.

He was tempted to refuse the invitation to Sally Benton's betrothal party, a grand dinner to be held in one of the large hotels. Then he decided he had to begin seeing Phoebe again, and this would be an ideal opportunity of restoring contact. She could avoid him if she wished, and apart from the unlikely chance they would be seated together at the table, they need not speak. He might, however, be able to convey to her she had no need to fear anything from him.

When he entered the hotel room where the guests were gathering, he immediately saw Phoebe at the far end, talking to an elderly couple he had seen before, but did not know.

She turned away from them after a while and saw him, standing just inside the doorway. He saw her take a deep breath and straighten her shoulders, then, to his surprise, she walked steadily across the room and stopped a yard or so in front of him. Was she afraid to come nearer, he wondered, and gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

‘My lord, I want to apologize for my discourtesy. I was rude. It is inevitable that we will meet, Brussels society is comparatively small, and it will not do for us to be always trying to avoid one another.'

He wanted so desperately to take her in his arms and kiss her. She was so gallant. Was this love? Had he, all unaware,
fallen in love with her? But he must go carefully. At least this approach by her meant they could meet, and he would perhaps be able to restore their relationship to what it had been, and progress from there. He had a sudden strong conviction that he had to make this girl his wife, she was the only one who would do.

‘I have no wish to avoid you, Phoebe. I have always enjoyed your company and would prefer us to remain friends. Is that possible?'

She smiled, and relaxed. ‘Thank you. You are kind.'

He was nothing of the sort. He was selfishly considering his own desires, and for the first time since that inept proposal beginning to hope she might, at some later date, accept him.

T
HE NEWS IN Brussels was contradictory. Phoebe heard Bonaparte had a great army assembled in Paris, then that his support was crumbling. For the rest of April and all of May life went on much as usual. More and more troops arrived and were stationed in a great swathe to the south of Brussels. There was a feverish gaiety at the many entertainments. Sally was deliriously happy whenever Henry could find time to visit her, and miserable when his duties kept him away.

Lady Benton had returned to England, and wrote to say she had secured the services of a really estimable and efficient architect who had assured her all the building alterations would be finished by the end of the year, which would give plenty of time for the new rooms to be decorated before Sally's wedding. Had Sally, she asked, given any thought to bridesmaids? They had few relatives, and no small girl cousins, so perhaps Sally should have some of her friends. She must give urgent thought to this and make sure no one who ought to be included would be offended if not asked.

‘I trust this affair with Bonaparte will be over and done with so that everyone will have returned to England,' she concluded.

Phoebe received regular letters from her mother, who seemed resigned to living at Bradshaw Towers, though she said Jane was becoming anxious for Reginald's return. Beatrice wrote more plainly, telling Phoebe she had enjoyed the visit Mrs Kingston had made to Ridgeway Park, and had made her promise to visit again, though Jane had seemed reluctant for her mother to come, and had complained bitterly at the prolonged absence of Dorothy and Hermione. Reginald, it seemed, was permitted his absence since he was doing business, but Jane appeared to resent the idea of his sisters having an enjoyable social life.

Phoebe wished the three Bradshaws would go. Reginald spent a good deal of his time in Ghent, which left his sisters free to visit Phoebe on an almost daily basis. They appeared to think she could introduce them to the more important residents, to whose entertainments they had not been invited. They were especially disgruntled not to obtain tickets to the singer Madame Catalini's benefit.

‘But the Queen was there, and Lord Wellington, who was most affable, we heard. It would have been a wonderful opportunity to meet him,' Dorothy complained.

They also firmly believed she had more information than was available to them.

‘But Phoebe, surely Sally's fiancé knows what is happening? He's an officer, and they must have information we don't.'

‘If Henry has any private information, it would be his duty to keep it private,' Phoebe said for the tenth time. ‘If there are plans for troop movements, they would not want to risk them coming to the ears of the French, would they?'

‘But we wouldn't tell the French,' Hermione protested.

Phoebe closed her eyes and prayed for patience. ‘Of course not, but you might tell someone else who would, or you might be overheard speaking of it.'

‘Well, what about the Earl of Wrekin? He's working very closely with the duke, we hear. Doesn't he tell you anything?'

‘No, he does not,' Phoebe said, trying to keep her voice calm. She saw the earl occasionally at balls and picnics, but apart from greeting her and passing the time of day, he did not seek her out. She had not danced with him since that dreadful night when he proposed. Why had she been so vehement in her rejection? If she had been sensible, she could have asked for time to consider, and then she might not have rejected him at all. It was too late now, but she would never cease to regret her hasty temper. If only she had been calmer. Now she thought she would be willing to marry him on any terms. A loveless marriage would be better than the bleak future she faced without him.

Zachary was so busy he had little time for social occasions. Wellington believed the French would probably attack in July, despite the movement of the army northwards. He feared a flanking movement to the west, but was also concerned that Blücher's position was at Namur, to the south-east, and closer to the German border. That left a wide gap due south of Brussels.

When Zachary did see Phoebe he was careful not to appear to put any pressure on her. He never asked her to dance, fearing that any close proximity would make him forget his plan for a steady resumption of their former friendship.

At the end of May, however, he succumbed to his need to be with her and asked her and Sally if they would like to go with him to the review of cavalry.

‘Sir William will be going, and I can obtain rooms for you. I shall ride, but you can go by coach.'

‘I'd prefer to ride,' Sally protested.

‘It's thirty miles away, and the weather is hot. You will be more comfortable in a coach.'

‘Henry will be there.' Sally had not seen him for several days, and with the prospect of seeing him she was willing to travel however the earl suggested, so after her token protest she concentrated on planning which gowns to take.

Satisfied with his arrangements, Zachary hoped he would be able to talk to Phoebe in a more relaxed atmosphere than at the balls and Brussels entertainments. He ordered a hamper of food so that they could picnic on the way, and called for them early in the morning.

They joined a veritable procession of coaches and riders. Zachary and Sir William rode alongside, Sir William complaining of the dust thrown up by the carriages in front. When they had gone halfway Zachary turned aside into a narrow lane, and led them to a grove of trees where there was a small clearing.

‘We can picnic here,' he said, and Sally exclaimed in delight at the carpet of wild flowers. She jumped down from the coach and began to pick them, making them into a posy which she presented to Phoebe.

‘Here, you can pin them to your gown. They are mostly blue, so they look pretty against your lemon gown.'

Phoebe had been spreading out rugs in the shade of the trees for them to sit on, and unpacking the hamper.

‘It's years since I did this,' she exclaimed, smiling without reserve at Zachary. ‘As a child I used to love riding up into the country near Buxton, but I never had such delicious food as this.'

He knelt beside her and helped take out the food. ‘I'll take the wine and put it in the stream to cool,' he suggested.

‘A stream? Nearby?'

‘Yes, can you hear it?'

She tilted her head to listen, and nodded. ‘Oh, how I long to paddle! But I suppose it would be considered unladylike.'

‘What's unladylike?' Sally demanded, coming back with another posy she was fastening to her own gown.

‘His lordship says there is a stream, and I was longing to paddle.'

‘Where? Oh, Phoebe, we must! Do say we can! Papa, you wouldn't mind, would you?'

Sir William had found a fallen branch on which he was sitting. He waved a hand at Sally. ‘Go and be a child, my dear. You will soon be a married lady and much too sedate for such childish pleasures.'

Zachary grinned, and led the way. Somehow he could not imagine Sally married, nor Sir Henry, who was a nice boy, a competent soldier, but in his opinion much too young to take on the burden of a wife.

He caught his thoughts. A wife a burden? He may have thought that a few short weeks ago, but now, too cautious to approach Phoebe again, in case he was rejected a second time, he wanted nothing better than to be married to her.

The stream was shallow, the water clear, and they could see some tiny fish swimming amongst the plants which edged it. While Zachary found a deeper spot to set the bottles of wine, the girls quickly took off their shoes and stockings and, hitching up their skirts, stepped into the water.

It was so cold they shrieked with surprise, and Zachary stood watching them, able to look his fill on Phoebe as she laughed and cautiously stepped further into the stream, then bent down to try and catch the tiny fish.

Soon they came out, unable to stand the cold for long. Phoebe produced a handkerchief and they dried their feet as well as possible, then, as Zachary turned aside to get the bottles of wine, they were able to resume their stockings and shoes, and go back to the picnic.

Phoebe and Sally were awed by the display of horsemanship during the review. It was the first time they had seen so many troops together. They had heard various numbers tossed around, so many thousand men stationed here, another ten thousand there, but seeing this exhibition brought home to Phoebe the reality of battle. She could imagine these men charging into the enemy, who would have an equal number, and there her imagination balked at what would come next.

Sally seemed to see only the magnificence of so many beautiful horses and elaborate uniforms. She hadn't realized yet, Phoebe suspected, that Henry would be involved in any fighting, and might be wounded or even killed. The earl, she thought with considerable relief, was a civilian. He would not be involved in the actual fighting. Then she felt selfish. And it was not even as though she had any claim on him.

On the way back to Brussels Sally was full of the glory she had seen, and predicting that when Napoleon was faced with such a magnificent display of military splendour, he would turn round and go back to Paris.

‘I don't believe they will fight,' she said more than once.

She grew quieter later that night when her father came in with a sheet of paper which he handed to her. It was, he told them, one of many similar broadsheets which the French had caused to be distributed amongst the Belgians.

Phoebe read it over Sally's shoulder. There was praise for the valiant French troops who had conquered so much in the past, and boasts of what they would soon be doing in Belgium. It was a clear invitation to the Belgians to support Napoleon, with an undisguised threat of what they might expect if they resisted.

‘People won't believe this, will they, Papa?'

‘Some will, I fear. Several English visitors have already left for Ghent and Bruges. Your brother-in-law, Mr Bradshaw, saw me earlier today, and asked whether they should leave.'

‘I hope you told him to,' Phoebe said.

Sir William smiled. He was well aware of Phoebe's dislike of Reginald and his sisters. ‘I left it to him. I feel he is the sort of man who will do the opposite just to prove he is independent. He said that if they did go, he would feel it his duty to take you with him, and trusted that Sally and I would not be inconvenienced, losing your services.'

Phoebe stared at him in dismay. ‘I certainly don't wish to leave! Oh, I beg your pardon. If you want to send me and Sally home, and have him escort us, of course we will obey you,' she added.

‘I can't leave Henry!' Sally cried.

Her father smiled at her. ‘I have every confidence in Wellington,' he said, ‘and I see no need for you to go. If Phoebe wished to, then of course I would not prevent her, but I take it you have no desire to leave.'

‘Of course not.'

‘Then I wish you luck if Mr Bradshaw tries to compel you.'

Phoebe went to bed and lay for an hour or more fuming at Reginald's impertinence. She would tell him exactly what she thought of him if he dared to try and order her to leave Sally.