The Regency (23 page)

‘Africa goes with you, then?'

‘
It might be my last command, her last chance to go to sea. I couldn't deny her that. You know how she feels — how you
would have felt in her position.'

‘
Your last command? But surely now you won't come
ashore, now they've given you your pennant?'

‘
I'm not so very ambitious, you know. I know that if I go on
serving long enough, I'll become an admiral; but I'm fifty-four, Lucy, and I keep thinking of poor Collingwood, and
how he hasn't seen his daughters since the war began. He
hasn't watched them grow up, and I don't want to end that
way myself. Of course, I've had Africa with me, but I want
her to have a normal life ashore. And I'd like to see more of
Hippolyta too — though I shouldn't think of trying to take
her away from you now.'

‘
Well, I suppose you know your own mind,' Lucy said
doubtfully, 'though if it were me —'

‘
If you were me, you'd feel the same. Hicks told me
you'd had the children staying with you all this year. You're
softening with age, Lucy.’

She opened her mouth to make a retort, and then closed it.
She walked over to the window and stared out at the dusty
street, baking under the strong sunlight, and said quietly, 'I
think you may be right, Haworth; though I don't know that
it's age that's done it.' She remembered the day she had gone
through Weston's chest; something had altered in her that
day, but it was not a thing she could explain to Haworth.

‘That was just a joke, my dear,' Haworth said gently.

She looked at him a little bleakly. 'I have changed. Despite
the race and — and everything, I can't go back to being the
way I was. I feel as if there's nothing more to expect for
myself. I must live for the children now. Their lives are all
before them.'

‘
Well, don't sound as though it were a sentence of death! You must learn to enjoy your children. Lucy dear. It can be
very pleasant, you know, being with them.'

‘For you, perhaps.'

‘
Well, when this expedition's over, I shall come back and
teach you the trick of it.’

Her face brightened. 'Would you? If anyone could teach
me, it would be you.’

He looked at her affectionately. 'If you would like it, of
course I will.’

*

Fanny received with gloom the news that Lucy's three chil
dren and Hippolyta Haworth were to descend on Morland Place
for race-week. They would sleep in the nursery with Sophie
and Thomas, of course, but she had no doubt that some
disruption to her life was on its way. Since Miss Rosedale had arrived, she had been living in a state of constant con
fusion and mild shock, so that she never knew from day to
day what was going to happen to her. Fanny was not stupid,
and it had taken her very little time to suspect that confusion
and shock were a deliberate ploy on Miss Rosedale's part, but
she didn't yet see what she could do about it.

Miss Rosedale had remained with the Barclays for Albinia's
wedding, and for a few days afterwards, to help Mrs Barclay
recover from the event; and then she had packed her trunks and travelled by the mail to Yorkshire. Héloïse had advised
James not to tell Fanny that a new governess had been hired, so the first Fanny knew about it was when Jenny came rather
earlier than usual one morning to fetch her down to the
dining-room.

The adults were still at breakfast, and there, opposite the
door, next to Madame, was a stranger in a dark blue dress
eating smoked mackerel and buttered eggs with the calm con
centration of one whose health and digestion have never given
her a moment's worry.

‘Fanny, darling, I want to present you to your new governess, Miss Rosedale,' James said, sounding distinctly nervous. 'Miss Rosedale, this is our dear Fanny.’

Miss Rosedale lifted her smooth, smiling face and regarded
Fanny with a bright, brown eye, like an inquisitive bird.
'Good morning, Fanny,' she said cheerfully. 'Have you had
breakfast? Do you eat here or in the nursery?' Fanny merely
scowled, and Miss Rosedale went on, 'In the nursery? I think
you ought to take your meals in the dining-room from now
on. I'm sure twelve is old enough, wouldn't you agree, Mr Morland? Won't you come and sit by me, Fanny? I expect
you've already eaten this morning, but you won't mind
chatting to me while I continue, will you?’

Fanny turned her stunned eyes on Uncle Ned's stricken
face — he had often said that if he couldn't get away from
Fanny at meal times, he would have to go and live in the
stables with the horses — and then walked numbly, like a
sleepwalker, to the seat beside Miss Rosedale which was being
offered her. As she sat down, Miss Rosedale, crunching
unconcernedly through fish-bones with her large white teeth,
met her gaze with what was indisputably the ghost of a wink.

The invitation had been to chat, but even had Fanny
wished to, she would have had little opportunity. Miss Rosedale,
while continuing to make a hearty breakfast, managed
to talk almost non-stop, asked a great many questions, and
answered most of them herself. Fanny could only stare at the
newcomer in horrified fascination. Miss Rosedale's overt good
nature and unquenchable spirits were a shock when she
hadn't been expecting anyone at all; added to that, she was so
appallingly healthy and full of energy, and had begun her
campaign by acquiring for Fanny with apparent effortlessness
the privilege of eating with the adults, something she had
been pleading for fruitlessly for months.

That was the beginning of it. Miss Rosedale had been at
Morland Place a month now, and Fanny felt as though her
feet hadn't touched the ground for an instant. She never
knew what was going to happen next. She was quite likely to
be woken by her governess early in the morning and taken
out to watch for badgers in Harewood Whin, or for a long
ride over the moor to look for curlews' nests. On one occasion,
Miss Rosedale even rousted Fanny from her bed in the middle
of the night, to go up on the leads and look at the stars.

‘
Pointless trying to learn astronomy from books,' she had
said. 'And clear nights like this are all too rare. Take the
blanket from your bed, Fanny, and put it round your shoulders.
It'll be cold on the roof.’

Lessons became a mixture of the astonishing and the
exhausting. There was no regular curriculum or timetable.
Miss Rosedale seemed to teach Fanny whatever she felt like
teaching, in any order, and at any time. She might start off
one morning with geography, and in the middle of drawing a
map, suddenly drag Fanny off to the blacksmith's shop to
persuade him to shew them how to shoe a horse. A lesson on
the Civil War ended up with their riding out to Marston Moor
and re-enacting the battle with the help of some village
children, two farm labourers, and the shepherd. The latter
shook his head sadly and tapped it significantly behind Miss
Rosedale's back, but was nevertheless so flattered to be asked
to represent Prince Rupert that he was soon galloping up and down as fast as his legs would carry him, and uttering blood
thirsty war cries, to the astonishment of his dogs.

Fanny had laughed herself nearly sick on that occasion,
and afterwards had been surprised to realise how much she
was enjoying herself. She resented it, and tried hard to stay
aloof from Miss Rosedale, to be sullen with her, simply to
refuse to co-operate; but it was difficult. To begin with, Miss
Rosedale was so energetic she simply rolled over resistance like a tide; and then the things she did were interesting, and
life was never dull if Fanny went along with her.

And again, she always seemed to assume that she and
Fanny were on the same side, against the rest of the world. She seemed a complete hoyden, rode as well as Fanny, was
just as ready to take off her stockings and stand in the stream
catching guppies in her hands to teach Fanny icthyology; or
to climb the oak tree looking for emperor caterpillars as part
of an entymology lesson. The notion of having a henchman was tempting to one who had always been a solitary sinner;
and to remove herself from Miss Rosedale's camp was to put
herself on the side of those she had always regarded as the
enemy. Fanny's thunder had been stolen, and she knew it.
She would strike back, she promised herself, as soon as she
was able to draw breath.

Héloïse viewed the campaign with amusement, James with
apprehension. 'But don't you see what she's doing?' Héloïse said. 'She's forstalling Fanny, thinking of everything before
Fanny does, and diverting her energies from malicious pranks
to harmless ones.'

‘
But where will it stop?' James said. 'I'm afraid she's putting
ideas into Fanny's head; and she's hardly teaching her to
be ladylike.'

‘
No, my James, not yet. She must get Fanny to like and
trust her before she can teach the things Fanny does not want
to learn. I think we should not interfere. I'm sure she knows
what she's doing.'

‘
I can't stand the suspense of wondering what dreadful
thing she's going to do next. Was she like this with the
Barclays? How did they survive sixteen years of it?’

Héloïse laughed. 'Oh, I like it! She amuses me.’

Later Héloïse spoke alone to Miss Rosedale about her
progress. ‘Mr Morland is worried that you are putting ideas
in Fanny's head. He wonders how long this phase of the
battle will continue.'

‘
Until Fanny surrenders,' Miss Rosedale said with a wry
smile. 'She hasn't yet.'

‘
She has been very quiet since you came, and Mr Edward
Morland is surprised at how well she behaves at the table.
She looks a little like a
somnanbuliste, enfin.
Is not this
surrender?'

‘
I fear not. She is waiting, thinking. She goes along with
me at the moment because it suits her to, because I make life
interesting for her, but she has not yielded one inch of her
position. She may strike back at any time.'

‘Well, it is at all events better for everyone as it is,' Héloïse
concluded. 'You must go on as you think right; and for the
moment, continue to teach Fanny alone. Marie and I can take
care of Sophie at present.’

*

Lucy arrived at Morland Place for race-week, accompanied
by her children and their household of governess and nursery
maids, and apologised to Héloïse for the invasion.