The Regency (27 page)

‘
I shall miss him very much,' Héloïse said, but she seemed
distracted, as though her mind was no longer on the subject
of the child. 'Sophie will too. But it's right that he should go
to you.'

‘
Well, that's what I thought. I should have taken him
before,' Lucy said, 'but I haven't felt able to — Héloïse,
what's wrong?’

Héloïse's eyes were blank and fixed, and her face was
drawn. Her hand groped out blindly for Lucy's and gripped it
like a bird's talon. 'Lucy,' she whispered , and stopped.

‘What is it? For God's sake, Héloïse, tell me!'

‘
Lucy,' she began again, and her voice sunk almost to
soundlessness, 'I think I'm bleeding.’

*

Edward went out at the same time as James, and having seen
his brother off to Shawes on Nez Carre, decided to walk up to
the coppice paddock to check on a couple of in-foal mares
which had been isolated because they had ben losing condi
tion. He mixed a bucket of feed and collected a hemp halter,
and started off with Tiger at his heels; but he had only just
crossed the moat when he saw Mathilde come out of the arch
way into the rose garden in the company of John Skelwith.

Edward stopped and frowned. He didn't like the Skelwith
business to begin with, but this looked rather too much like a
secret assignation, not the sort of thing he would have
expected from a strictly-brought-up girl like Mathilde. As he
watched they paused and exchanged a few words, and then
Skelwith bowed over Mathilde's hand
(conceited dog!),
raised
it to his lips
(impudent puppy!),
and then walked away in the
direction of Holgate.

Mathilde watched him go for a moment, and then turned
towards the house, carrying a flat basket of roses on one arm,
and walking with a light step which somehow only made
Edward feel more irritable. She saw him, and gave a light
hearted little wave, and Edward stood his ground and waited for her. Tiger bounded over to her, and she stooped to caress
him, and then walked on, while the brindled hound ran back
and forth across the diminishing distance between them,
lashing his tail with pleasure.

By the time she reached Edward, Mathilde had noticed the
expression on his face, and her smile faltered. 'Is something
the matter?' she asked.

‘
I hope not,' Edward said sternly. 'I have just seen you
come out of the rose garden with John Skelwith. Why wasn't
he announced at the house? And how did you know he was
here, to come and meet him in this — informal way?’

Mathilde coloured. 'Why, Cousin Edward, do you think I
have done something wrong?'

‘
I should be very loath to think that. I know you have been brought up as a young lady should, but I feel it is my duty as someone considerably older than you to point out that it does have a very peculiar appearance. To be blunt, it looked like a
secret assignation.’

Still blushing, but with vexation rather than shame,
Mathilde said, 'I did not make an assignation with Mr Skelwith.
He was coming up to the house to deliver a message to me
from Patience Keating, and he arrived just as I was going
into the rose garden to pick some roses for Madame's bed
room. So naturally he came with me while I cut the roses and
gave him the reply to take back to Patience. We were there
only for as long as it took me to cut these,' she finished,
gesturing with her basket, and raising her pink face to meet
his eye with a clear look.

Edward felt ashamed, annoyed, prickly, out-of-sorts. 'I'm
sorry if I have offended you,' he said gruffly, 'but please
believe I spoke only for your own good. That young man is
too often here, and his attentions to you are too particular for
you to be in any way careless about what liberties you allow
him.'

‘Liberties?' Mathilde was clearly angry now.

‘I saw him kiss your hand,' Edward said.

‘
You consider that a liberty? Forgive me, Cousin Edward,
but I thought it was customary in polite society,' she said in a
resentful voice.

Edward was at a loss what to say next. Why had he been
angry? He looked at the sky and the ground; Tiger nudged
him, hoping to be off, and then seeing it was going to be a
long conversation, sighed heavily and lay down at his feet.

Finally Edward cleared his throat, and said, 'I'm sorry. I
spoke clumsily. But I couldn't help wondering how things
stand between you and Skelwith. You see, he has made it
obvious that he is — well, fond of you, and if you feel the
same way about him —' He coughed nervously. 'I only have
your good at heart, you know. There are reasons why a
marriage between you and him would be — inadvisable.

‘What reasons?' she asked with dangerous quietness.

Edward spread his hands. 'I'm not at liberty to say. Oh, I know how that must sound, Mathilde, and I'm sorry, but it's
a matter of a confidence which I'm not able to break. All I
can say is that a connection between you and John Skelwith
would be unwelcome in certain circles.’

Mathilde looked down and bit her lip, and then said, 'Cousin Edward, may I talk to you?'

‘Of course,' he said in surprise.

‘
No, I mean — can I speak to you in confidence? There is
something I need advice on, and I don't know who else to
turn to.’

All Edward's irritability disappeared in an instant. 'Of
course, my dear,' he said. 'I should be glad to be able to help you, in any way I can. Would you like to walk with me up to
the paddock?’

He switched the bucket to the other hand and offered her
his arm, and she put down the basket of roses and took it
gladly. They began to walk, with Tiger frisking ahead of
them, delighted to be on the move again.

‘Well then, what did you want to ask?'

‘
It's about John Skelwith,' Mathilde said, frowning a little.
'You see, although he is perfectly proper in his manner towards
me, and though nothing has been said, I can't help knowing
that he is very fond of me, and I have reason to believe that
he does mean to make me an offer.'

‘I see,' Edward said.

Mathilde glanced at him anxiously. 'He hasn't spoken yet,
but I think he will soon, and I don't know what to say if he
does. Especially if there is some reason I don't know about why I should refuse him.’

Edward shook his head. 'I was wrong to mention it. It is no
impediment, I assure you. If you love this young man, you
may accept his offer without reference to what I have said. I
spoke only because — because I thought you were not in love
with him, and I wanted to put you on your guard.'

‘
But I'm not in love with him,' Mathilde said. 'That's the
problem. If I were, things would be easy. Oh, I like him very
much, and he is very kind and pleasant, and everything he
should be, but — that's all.’

Edward smiled. 'Then, my dear Mathilde, what is your
problem?'

‘
Well, sir, Madame has spent a lot of time and money on
me so that I may make a good match, and be settled for life;
and John — Mr Skelwith is certainly a good match. He is very
well-to-do, with his father's business, which is a very good
one; he is educated and refined, and in every way the kind of suitor a girl like me ought to be proud of. I am proud that he
loves me; and if he makes me an offer, I feel that I ought to
accept it. It is likely to be the best I shall ever have; it may be
the only one I ever have; and it would be the greatest ingrati
tude to Madame to refuse him. Don't you think so?’

Edward cleared his throat. 'It might appear that way,' he
said cautiously.

‘
I'm sure everyone would say so,' Mathilde said unhappily.
'And I do like him, and I'm sure he would make a good
husband, because he is so kind to his mother; but I'm not in love with him.' She glanced at Edward anxiously. 'I suppose
that sounds a very missish thing to say, doesn't it? I oughtn't to
be so nice, ought I, about something that doesn't matter?’

She stopped, looking to Edward for his reply, and he could
not immediately give her one. On the one hand, she was
perfectly right that it was her duty to marry as well as she
could, where there was no positive dislike in the case; but on the
other hand, he, Edward, had always with him the memory
of his own mother and father, which made it hard for him to
dismiss love as unimportant.

The children of lovers, he thought, have a difficult row to
hoe. Always before them lies an example which is hard to
match and impossible to better. Was that why they had all
been so reluctant to marry? He was still single, a greying
bachelor wed to his horses and his duty; William had married
the sea, and wed only late in life, to an utterly unsuitable
woman; James's and Lucy's matrimonial problems were now
legendary; Harry was a bachelor and a sailor, and looking like
to remain both. They had all grown up in the shadow of their
parents' love for each other, excluded from that glowing
radiance which surrounded each of them for the other. The
children of lovers, he thought, are waifs and orphans; and yet
they can't help always hoping to enter that shining land.

‘
What should I do, Cousin Edward?' Mathilde prompted
him.

He pressed her hand against his ribs. 'You are still very
young, Mathilde, and there's no reason to suppose there
won't be other offers. I wouldn't recommend you to accept
the first offer you ever receive, unless you're quite sure about
i
t.’

She looked at him with relief and gratitude. 'Then you
don't think I'm being missish?'

‘
Not at all. Love is as important as you think it is. For some
people, it doesn't seem to matter; but if it matters to you,
then you ignore it at your peril,' he told her from the heart.

‘
Oh, thank you, Cousin Edward! You've taken such a
weight off my mind,' Mathilde said.

They had reached the paddock. Mathilde slipped her hand
out from under his arm and went to stand at the rails, looking
at the horses. Tiger found an interesting patch of grass and got down to roll in it, twitching his hind-quarters back and
forth ridiculously, rubbing his muzzle with his forepaws and
sneezing like a cat. Edward rapped the bucket with his
knuckles to attract the mares' attention, and they lifted their
heads from grazing, and began to drift casually towards him,
swishing through the tawny, sun-dried grass, their eyes bright
and soft, their flanks rounded with fecundity. The heat of the
day lay over everything like a gentling hand.