Supervising Sally (23 page)

Sir William left the house early, and the girls had scarcely finished breakfast the following day when Reginald appeared and was shown into the drawing-room. Phoebe, shaking her head when Sally offered to stay with her, said she preferred to deal with him alone.

‘He'll only try to overawe you, and it will be upsetting,' she said. ‘I'm accustomed to his manner.'

She was accustomed, but she had never before faced
Reginald in such a determined, hectoring mood. It took all her resolution to withstand his commands, but in the end he made her so angry she told him exactly what she thought of him.

‘I believe you are going home because you are not invited to the more aristocratic affairs,' she said. She had never seen him or his sisters at the Duke of Wellington's parties, or those given by the highest members of the
ton
, and knew that would have offended his dignity.

‘You are an impertinent, ungrateful wretch,' he roared at her, his cheeks red with fury. ‘I give your mother a home, after your imprudent father leaves you with a pittance—'

‘Don't you dare criticize Papa!' Phoebe interrupted. ‘He was a far better man than you! He cared for people, but you exploit them, in your mills, and live in luxury off their labour.'

‘If that is what you think, you need not come crawling back to us when you do deign to return to England! There's no longer a home for you at Bradshaw Towers, miss!'

‘I would not come to your house if I were starving,' Phoebe told him.

He glared at her, then stormed out of the room, and Phoebe collapsed on to a sopha, trembling. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, and found Sally kneeling beside her, anxiously patting her hand.

‘Phoebe, that horrible, odious man! How can your sister endure him?'

Phoebe gave an uncertain laugh. ‘I've often wondered. Did you hear much?'

Sally chuckled. ‘Not at first, but when he began to shout I think everyone in the house heard. I really expected him to start beating you, and then I'd have rushed in to save you.'

‘I hope he does not take out his frustration on Mama.'

‘Your sister will not let him. But if he does make life so
uncomfortable for her she must go to Aunt Beatrice. She would understand. But I've a better idea. We must find you a husband, so that you can offer her a home.'

News from France was still unreliable. The duke was unable to send out scouting parties over the border as he had in the Peninsular because of the feelings at home. It would have been described as an act of war by his opponents. Until the French crossed into Belgium he had to rely on inadequate intelligence. Zachary was trying to make sense of contradictory reports which placed Napoleon variously in Paris and towns to the north, when he was shown a report in a French newspaper about the display of force being described as the
Champ de Mai
, reflecting the great assemblies of armies traditional in France for centuries.

This had been on the first day of June, and the main task of the duke was fortifying the defences. The tension amongst those who had the latest news increased, but the ordinary citizens carried on as usual, with balls every night, breakfasts and picnics and rides or drives out to inspect the fortifications. The duke maintained an air of calm assurance, and Zachary thought this was the main reason there was no panic in Brussels.

He had seen little of Phoebe, since he deliberately avoided going to the balls. It was too soon, he told himself, but in his inmost thoughts he knew his reluctance was more to do with a fear she would again reject him. Never before, in any of his dealings with the fair sex, had he doubted his ability to charm them and have them do as he wished.

A week later he decided to take a chance, an innocuous occasion where he could just be friendly. A cricket match had been arranged at Enghien, and when they met while
walking in the
parc
one morning he invited Sally and Phoebe to drive there with him to see it.

‘Wellington himself plans to go. Have you ever watched a game?'

‘I have,' Sally said eagerly. ‘I used to watch in the village at home.'

‘Papa took me once, when I was quite small,' Phoebe said, ‘but I could not understand the rules, they seemed so complicated. '

‘It's quite a long drive, two hours or so, but I am sure you will enjoy it. We can take a picnic again, to eat as we watch. The Duke of Richmond is playing, and he is said to be one of the best cricketers in England. I will try to explain the rules as we watch.'

Zachary used his contacts to ensure that Sir Henry ffoulkes would be free of duties that day, so they could take two curricles, Sir Henry driving Sally and Phoebe with him. They would be able to talk. He admonished himself that he must keep to innocuous topics, so as not to frighten her, for it was still too soon to hope she might have changed her mind.

It was a lovely day, the drive was pleasant, and though Phoebe was at first a little dubious about the propriety of allowing Sally to drive so far alone with Sir Henry, the latter kept up with Zachary all the way, and Phoebe ceased to worry.

Phoebe was swift to understand the rules of the game, and watched with interest. ‘Do you play?' she asked Zachary.

‘I have done, but my duties in the army, and since then at the Foreign Office, have not given me a great deal of opportunity. Though I may try to start a team when I go home, after Napoleon is once more in our hands.'

‘Where is your home?

‘In Shropshire, beside the River Severn, a dozen miles from Shrewsbury. It is a lovely part of the country,' he said,
and stopped himself from saying more, saying that she would enjoy living there if she married him.

By the time they drove back to Brussels Zachary felt they had reestablished the friendship they had enjoyed before his disastrous proposal, and he felt encouraged to ask if they were attending the ball to be given by the Duchess of Richmond in two days' time.

‘Yes, we mean to go,' Phoebe said.

Zachary smiled at her. ‘Then may I have the pleasure of a dance with you? The supper dance, if possible?'

Phoebe hesitated, and his heart began to sink. He had been too precipitous. Then she nodded her head.

‘I would like that, my lord.'

Sally gasped with excitement when they entered the ballroom. It was decorated in gold, crimson and black, and brilliant with the glow of chandeliers. By now they knew most of the important people in Brussels, the diplomats of many countries, the soldiers, both generals and junior officers who belonged to aristocratic families, and the ladies of those same families.

‘Our gowns are outshone by the uniforms,' Phoebe said. Sally wore pale pink, while she had on a gown of her favourite primrose yellow. Most of the women wore pastel colours, but the eyes were drawn to the uniforms, especially the scarlet coats and the kilts of the Highlanders.

The Prince of Orange was present, talking excitedly to a group of Belgians, but Phoebe could not see Wellington. The earl was there, in deep conversation with Sir Charles Stuart, the British Ambassador to the Netherlands. As far as she could see, he did not dance at all during the first part of the evening, but moved around the ballroom talking mainly to officers.

It was late when the Duke of Wellington arrived, and he was immediately surrounded by his aides and some of the officers. After he spoke to them they dispersed, and Phoebe, anxiously watching the earl, saw them circulating amongst the officers. These men nodded, and Phoebe realized some of them were quietly slipping away from the ballroom. The prince had gone, and rumours were circulating amongst the guests that the army had been put on the alert. The fighting, so long expected, seemed imminent.

‘What is happening?' she demanded of the earl when he came to join her for the supper dance. ‘The officers are leaving. Is it true Napoleon is advancing on Brussels? Ought not the duke to be there, preparing to defend us?'

‘Phoebe, my dear, there is no need to panic,' he began.

‘I'm not panicking, my lord, but it is clear something important is happening, and I am curious.'

‘Bonaparte is moving forwards, and has driven the Prussians out of their forward position at Charleroi. They were too far in advance, it would have been impossible to defend it. But now he is on Belgian soil it's war. Come, shall we dance?'

Phoebe shook her head. ‘Please, can we sit out? I want you to tell me all you can. Why is the duke here?'

He led her to a sopha at the side of the ballroom. ‘I know very little more. The duke has always considered it a strong possibility that the attack would come on the right flank. It's what he would have done. But now Bonaparte is striking at the middle of the defences. He probably hopes to divide us from the Prussians. But they are falling back, and we will concentrate at Quatre Bras, further north. It's a much more defensible position.'

‘We didn't ride so far that day, did we?'

‘No, it's quite a way beyond the village of Waterloo.'

‘I still can't understand why the duke looks so unconcerned. Surely he ought to be with the army, directing them?'

‘Just consider who has been at this ball. It is far easier for him to give his instructions to the officers here, where they are concentrated, than do it any other way. You can be sure messages have been sent to those who are not here.'

‘Oh, I see. And I suppose those who are leaving have gone to join their regiments.'

‘The ones that are furthest away, yes. Phoebe, I have every confidence that we'll hold them, but promise me, if the French break through and reach Brussels, you will leave. Take Sally home, or go to Beatrice.'

I think he cares, Phoebe thought, and her heart gave a sudden leap. Or perhaps it is just a general wish to see civilians out of the dangerous area.

‘Tell me about the Peninsular,' she said. ‘You were wounded?'

‘Yes, a ball in my shoulder and a gash from a sword on my leg, which took an age to heal. You heard I sold out soon afterwards? '

‘Because your brother was killed, and he was your heir. It was necessary. You won't be fighting this time, though, will you?' she asked. ‘You're not in the army now.'

He looked thoughtful. ‘I was accused of cowardice by some who did not understand.'

Phoebe was indignant. ‘You should not heed such ignorant opinions. But the fighting must have been horrific.'

‘It was,' he said, and when she persisted, wanting to know more, described some of the battles.

Phoebe was certain he was not going into the more gory details, but what he said was bad enough, the deprivations, the poor food and worse accommodation, the inadequate medical attention.

‘It's better here,' he concluded. ‘I should not have told you all of this, it has frightened you.'

‘I wanted to know, and I am frightened only for the men who will lose their lives or be injured.'

‘While men fight, that will inevitably happen. But look, they are forming the procession into supper. Let us go and join them. Afterwards, I fear I must leave myself.'