The Emperor (53 page)

Héloïse felt rather sorry for Mary Ann at the end of this
tirade, and smiled gently and said, 'But I, too, am only a
bourgeoise.
My mother was a café-owner's daughter, you
know, and I am just like her.'

‘
No, my lady,' Barnard said sternly. 'It matters not who
the parents are, nor the style of living. What matters is in
here.'
And he struck himself firmly on the chest with his fist.
‘You are a lady, and I will work for no-one less.’

Since he was not proposing that Héloïse should hire him,
it was plain, to her at least, that there could be no question
of her refusing, but it was not so easy to explain that to the
other servants, or to satisfy their very reasonable demands to know how the house could accommodate him; and while
the arguments were still going on, Mr Pobgee arrived, and
was shewn into the parlour by Alice, who could not resist
telling the visitor the reason for all the excitement.

‘
Mr Edward Morland, at least, will be glad to know that
his cook is safe and well,' Pobgee said to Héloïse when she
finally joined him. 'He has been worried, especially as it
seems that the man spoke no English and had no money
with him.’

Héloïse gave a harrassed smile. 'Monsieur Barnard
walked here; and he cares nothing for money. Please tell my
cousin Edward that he is safe with me, if you wish — but, I
beg you, tell him nothing else.' She blushed as she spoke,
but did not need to be more specific, but Pobgee could not
have failed to notice her advanced pregnancy, though his
eyes never strayed from her face.

‘You may trust me, my lady,' he said gently. 'I shall speak
discreetly to Mr Edward, and arrange for Monsieur
Barnard's accumulated wages to be transferred to your
charge. Also, I wish you will charge me, my lady, with any
business you need undertaken, of however delicate a nature. I assure you I have the liveliest interest in your welfare, and will act with the greatest discretion. The late Lady Morland,
who was a friend as well as a valued client, commended
your interests to my care shortly before she died.'

‘
You are very kind,' Héloïse said faintly, tut there is
nothing I want. Did — did Lady Morland —' She found she
could not yet speak of her. Pobgee became businesslike.

‘
Lady Morland sent for me in February, my lady, to
instruct me to make a new Will for her. In essence it was no
different from her old one. Morland Place and the estate
were to go to her granddaughter Frances Mary James, to be
held in trust until her majority.' Héloïse nodded. 'She did,
however, make certain other changes. The one which
immediately concerns you is that she left certain items of her
personal property to you, and charged me to bring them to
you myself. This happy task I now perform.' And he placed
in Héloïse's hands a small but handsome cedarwood box.

Héloïse looked at it, and then up, enquiringly, at Pobgee.
He smiled. 'The box and its contents were given to Lady Morland in her childhood by the Lady Annunciata, your
common ancestress. Lady Morland wanted you to have
them.’

Héloïse opened the box and took out, one by one, the
contents: two exquisite miniatures, painted on ivory and
framed in gold, one of Martin Morland, the other of the
Princess Henrietta Stuart; a lock of brown hair, tipped with
gold, enclosed in a gold locket; and the fabulous diamond
collar, given to Annunciata by King Charles. As she drew
the diamonds out, flashing rainbow colours in the light, she
glanced again at the lawyer, who, understanding her
thought, said, 'Yes, the contents of the box were specified.
There is no mistake. Those things belonged to Lady
Morland personally, not to the estate.’

Héloïse sat with the treasures in her lap, remembering the
conversation she had had with Jemima, on the day they had
walked together around the lake at Shawes. Many thoughts
ran through her head; and then the baby kicked restlessly,
bringing her to another line of reasoning.

‘
You said, the provision which immediately concerns me
— is there another?' she asked Pobgee. He smiled at her
quickness.

‘
There is, my lady, but I am not at liberty to divulge it until certain circumstances appertain. When they do — if
they ever do — I shall at once make it my business to make it
known to you. In the meantime, I am obliged by Lady
Morland's Will, as well as by her wishes, to keep a watchful
eye on your welfare, and ensure that you want for nothing. She
did not,' he added with a delicate hesitation, 'I suppose,
know about — ?'

‘
About the baby? No. It — it was not in my power to tell
her.'

‘
Indeed. A pity. Well, my lady, I hope you will not hesi
tate to call on me, should you need anything — anything at
all — be it money or advice or simply someone to talk to.'

‘
You are very kind, monsieur. I shall not forget, though
you see I have many friends, and want for nothing,' Héloïse
said, rising.

Pobgee bowed over her hand and departed with a
troubled frown. The difficulty about Wills was that they
were necessarily static, while circumstances changed, which
made for confusion and litigation. Good for business, you
might say, Pobgee addressed an imaginary critic in his head,
but in the case of the Morland family, he was enough of a friend, and sure enough of the business, to wish for every
thing to be straightforward. He must keep a finger on the
pulse. Perhaps the Circumstances would never arise; and
then he wondered whether he hoped that they would, or
wouldn't.

 
A series of hot days and a strong desire to gallop had led
Lucy to arrange a riding-party to Richmond Park; and a
desire to be with Lucy had led Weston, who was no more
enthusiastic a horseman than most sailors, to borrow a horse
and join it. Half a dozen other young ladies and gentlemen completed the party, the gentlemen either officers or Bond
Street sportsmen, the ladies dashing young women who
admired Lady Aylesbury's style and whose collective
ambition was to be known as bruising riders and hard to
hounds in their own country.

Chetwyn had declined to come, observing with a faint
smile that Lucy would be safe enough with her watchdog,
Danby Wiske, by her side, and that he had promised
Greyshott a hand or two of picquet at the club.

‘I shall see you at dinner tonight,' he said.

‘
Very well, but be back in time to dress,' Lucy had said.
‘You know we are engaged.'

‘
I know it; I was not sure if you did,' Chetwyn said.
‘However, I think your ride may be curtailed. The weather
will very likely turn dirty.'

‘Oh, nonsense,' Lucy retorted. 'It's a beautiful day.'

‘
Don't you see that bank of cloud in the west? If I were
you, I should stay close to the gates, or you may find your
selves without shelter when it turns off.’

Lucy only smiled, and twirled her gloves gaily. 'Oh, I
don't regard a wetting! It can be quite exciting, galloping
with the rain in your face.’

Chetwyn thought of her galloping Mimosa, an exciteable
mare at the best of times, over ground made slippery by a sudden shower, in visibility obscured by dark clouds and
driving rain, and bit his tongue to stop himself protesting.
He knew how headstrong she had become lately, and
opposition was only likely to make her more stubborn. He
still did not have his heir, and a bad fall could make that
impossible for ever; but more than that, he cared for Lucy,
and worried about her. She was his little sister, as she had always been; but lately, for what reason he did not like to
enquire too deeply, she had become more than that to him.

‘
I suppose it reminds you of the spray on your face while
you were in the good old
Diamond?'
he heard himself say
acidly, and was shocked with himself. Lucy, however,
noticed nothing.

‘
Oh no,' she said matter-of-factly, 'I was never above
decks in the
Diamond.
I thought you knew that. There
weren't even any gun-ports on the orlop.' A thoughtful
expression crossed her face. 'Strange to think that Mary
must be a more experienced sailor than me by now! I
wonder if she has had the news about Mama yet?'

‘
Can't your friend Weston tell you that? I thought he
knew everything about the navy.'

‘
Well, of course, it was thanks to him that we knew the
Africa
went off with Nelson's squadron, but even he can't
know where they are, until despatches come in,' Lucy said,
and then tilted her head, alerted at last to her husband's
tone of voice. 'What is it, Chetwyn? Don't you like Weston?
I can't think why you should not.'

‘
I can't think why not, either. He seems to me a most
agreeable young man,' Chetwyn said cynically.

‘
Well, everyone says his address is particularly good,'
Lucy said, half pleased, half puzzled.

‘
And he is so very handsome,' Chetwyn added in spite of
himself.

‘Is he? I suppose so — I had not much noticed.'

‘
Had you not?' Chetwyn felt a surge of affection, and
took her hand. 'That is just like you, Luce. I remember you
when you used to be covered in mud and straw, trotting
round after that old horse doctor. You're still the same
inside, aren't you?’

The last words seemed to have a note of entreaty as well as enquiry in them. Lucy laughed nervously, and drew back
her hand. 'Oh, Lord, that was years ago! I hope I have
grown up since then. But I must go — it would be monstrous
to keep them all waiting; and I can't wait to see what sort of
a hireling they have given Weston! I told him to borrow a
horse, but he would not. Proud!' she snorted in healthy
derision, and was gone, leaving Chetwyn feeling ruffled, and
dissatisfied with himself.

*

By the time the party met at the Roehampton gate, the
clouds had formed a long, low bar in the western sky, but
since the sky overhead was clear and cloudless and the sun
was shining brightly, no-one felt inclined to postpone the
treat. Weston had had a good look around, and had sniffed the wind, and frowned, but whatever his apprehensions, he kept them to himself.

‘For a hireling, that's not a bad-looking horse,' Lucy told
him, trying to persuade Mimosa to stand still and succeeding
only in turning her in tight circles. 'A little goose-rumped, perhaps, but that's not a bad fault.'

‘I may not be a polished horseman, ma'am,' Weston said
in injured tones, 'but I'm no Johnny Raw. Did you think I
would let them fob me off with any cow-hocked, spavined, broken-winded screw?'

‘It looks as though it might be fast,' Lucy said, setting her heel covertly to Mimosa's girth. 'Shall we try?’

The mare snorted with excitement and plunged forward, and with a laughing glance at the others by way of warning,
Lucy let her go, and went thundering away up the tan.
Weston and Danby Wiske sprang after her as one man, and
the rest of the party joined the pursuit perforce, their horses not wanting to be left behind.

At the end of the first long gallop, when everyone was
flushed and laughing and thoroughly warmed up, Lucy led
the way off the tan and onto a narrow path that wound
through the bracken towards the wilder country in the
middle of the park. There was not room for more than two horses abreast, and after a brief and silent struggle, Wiske
yielded to the determination of Weston and dropped back,
to let the lieutenant ride beside Lucy.

‘
This is a better arrangement,' Weston said. 'Now we can have a comfortable chat. Shall you be at the opera tonight?'

‘
Why no, I thought you knew. I am going to dinner and a ball at Chelmsford House, for Helena McNeill's engagement — you know, Viscount Ballincrea's sister. They are cousins of a sort. The Ballincreas don't have a London house, so Charles and Roberta are giving the party for them. I thought you would have been there.’