The Regency (6 page)

Héloïse knew all about them and their husbands: Marie
was a very good informant about everything that went on in
the neighbourhood, and James in the course of their long conversations in bed had told her the rest.

‘
Arthur Fussell was always an arrogant little brute, foul-
tempered and a fouler horseman. Worst hands in the Ridings!
And a gamester! I was very sorry for Lizzie having to marry
him. But their fathers arranged it all — they'd known each
other for ever, and poor Lizzie at twenty-five was almost on the shelf. But I'm surprised at the way Crosby Shawe turned out. I always thought him a good enough sort of man: quiet,
you know, and not much to him, but a dull and decent sort.
But he and Arthur were bosom-bows at school, and I suppose
the rest just followed. Valentina's a great deal too good for
him. You might not think it to look at her,' he added, making
Héloïse smile into the darkness at his naiveté, 'but she's a
remarkably intelligent woman. The rest of her family were
positively sheep-witted, but Valentina was always clever.’

Héloïse also knew, through Marie, that both women had
been in love with James, and probably still were, but she gave
no sign of that as she smiled and chatted easily to them.

‘God moves in mysterious ways, Lady Fussell,' she said,
embarrassing the ladies a little with the familiar way she
introduced the Almighty into conversation. 'He has denied
you children, which is very sad; but you are blessed with a
great many nephews and nieces; and an aunt, you know, may
sometimes have the best of it — all the fun and none of the
sorrow.'

‘
Well, yes,' Lizzie said reluctantly, 'John's children bring me great pleasure, I grant you, and I'm fond of 'Tina's little
boys.'

‘
My ward Mathilde is at this very moment visiting Miss
Keating, who is also your niece, is she not?'

‘Yes, Patience is my eldest sister Augusta's girl.'

‘
You must be very pleased with the way Miss Nordubois
has turned out, Lady Morland,' Valentina put in. 'I have not
had the pleasure of meeting her yet, but I hear good reports of
her — a very modest, pretty-behaved girl, they say.'

‘
And her eighteenth birthday is next week, is it not?' Lizzie
asked. 'I believe you are having a ball for her?'

‘
A very small thing,' Héloïse said. 'As she is my ward and
not James's, it would not be proper at Morland Place to have
anything very grand. But Mathilde looks forward to it very
much.'

‘
Despite having her come-out in London?' Valentina said.
‘She must be a modest girl indeed! And a trip to Brighton
with Lady Chelmsford into the bargain, and all the glories of
the military camp!'

‘Ah yes, Brighton!' Héloïse laughed. 'She fell in love with a different officer every day!'

‘
Red coats have a dreadful effect on a girl's heart,' Lizzie
said. 'I remember when the regiment was here in '79 — well,
I was too young to care about officers, of course — but
Augusta and your sisters, 'Tina, could talk about nothing else.
They nearly broke their hearts when the regiment went
abroad.'

‘
I remember!' Valentina laughed. 'Amelia and Caroline
cried in each other's arms for a week over a certain Captain
Matlock. If he'd favoured either of them over the other,
they'd have hated each other, of course, but as he regarded
them both with perfect indifference —'

‘There is no better cure for a young girl's heartbreak than
indifference,' Héloïse agreed. 'With Mathilde it was a certain
Major Ashton of the Ninth.'

‘
We have a very decent sort of officer here at Fulford,
you know,' Valentina said. 'A very gentlemanly set. Miss
Nordubois might do worse than a handsome ensign.'

‘
There will be one or two officers at the ball,' Héloïse con
fessed. 'James knows the colonel.'

‘
Oh yes, of course. They all meet at the Maccabbees,'
Lizzie said in a flat voice. The Maccabbees club was the
source of a great deal of Lizzie's and Valentina's misery.

‘
James does not go there very often now,' Héloïse said, a
little apologetically. 'He called on the colonel at the barracks,
and the colonel invited him to dine.’

Just then the door was flung open, and Crosby Shawe
walked in. He stopped short and goggled at them.

‘
Good God, what've I interrupted?' he exclaimed. It was
evident from the first words that he was not entirely sober. 'It
looks like that scene frori that play — what's it called — with
the three witches. You know — "Double, double —" or is it
"Bubble, bubble —"? Never could remember. Shakespeare!
Pa made me recite it for ever when I was in short coats.
Macbeth,
that's the dandy! The three wise women.'

‘
Mr Shawe, Lady Fussell and Lady Morland are visiting
me,' Valentina said hastily.

‘
Can see that!' Crosby said indignantly. 'Wouldn't have
come in if I'd known. Thought the room was empty. Damned
if I want to listen to a lot of women's clacking!'

‘Mr Shawe!'

‘
Anyway, Lizzie Fussell's always here. Nothing to make a
fuss about. Is that your phaeton in the yard, Lady M? Wants
its offside driving-wheel looking at, you know.'

‘
No, I didn't know,' Héloïse said with a calm good humour,
‘but I shall tell my groom about it.'

‘
Told him myself, when I drove into it,' Crosby said, and
laughed loudly at his own wit. 'Should think he knows now,
all right.'

‘
Mr Shawe, do you mean you damaged Lady Moriand's
phaeton?'

‘
Not my fault,' he said sulkily. 'Damn stupid place for
Brunty to put it, just inside the archway like that. Came
round the corner at a hell of a lick and smashed — I mean,'
he corrected himself fumblingly, 'I turned my tilbury in just
as I always do, expecting the yard to be empty, and there was
— this —' He paused again, looking owlishly round at them,
aware that he was not shewing himself to advantage. 'S'only the one wheel. Got locked in mine, you see, and m'horse got
in a panic, and wouldn't stand still.'

‘
I'm so sorry, Lady Morland,' Valentina said. 'You must
send us the bill for the repair. I'm afraid our stableman is
very stupid, and must have left your carriage in a very awk
ward place.’

In the irrational way of the drunkard, Crosby now grew
angry with his wife for defending him. 'Yes, all right, I am a
trifle foxed!' he said loudly, glaring at Valentina. 'Why not? I
went to the club for breakfast, and it's a cold morning. A man
has to have something to keep the cold out, doesn't he?'

‘Mr Shawe, I'm sure our guests don't want to know —'

‘
Don't want to know? I'll bet they do know, though. Arthur
was there, anyway, Lizzie, so you see — and it isn't so long
since Mr James Bloody Perfect Morland had his armchair by
the fire every night. Founder member of the Maccabbees, Mr
James Newly-Wed Morland!’

Héloïse, more in pity for the women than in shock at his
behaviour, stood up, and said, 'I think, Mrs Shawe, that I
ought to be going. I like Thomas to sleep in the afternoon —’

Crosby saw that he had gone too far, and became contrite.
'No, wait, don't go yet. I've got something to tell you.' He
shook his head stupidly, trying to clear it. 'Wonder why I'm a little bit under the weather? Not foundered, you know — just
a little windy! It's good news! Good news — heard it at the
club — had to drink a toast, didn't we? It's just come up from
London — Boney's been beaten!’

He stared at them hopefully, his dull and doggy eyes wan
dering a little. Héloïse heard the words with shock, and
looked from Mrs Shawe's white face to Lady Fussell's. It was
Valentina who took charge. She stood up and faced her hus
band, and her voice took on a ring of command which no-one
but he had ever heard before.

‘
Beaten? What do you mean? Crosby, look at me, and tell
me immediately exactly what you heard.'

‘
S'true!' he pleaded. 'Beaten to flinders, and some place
called —' He screwed up his eyes with the effort, and then
shook his head. 'Some jawbreaker of a name, in Prussia, any
way. Boney was in winter quarters, and the Russians
attacked, and beat him completely. So we had some cham
pagne — well,
who
wouldn't? And then Arthur said, he said,
this is damn dull work without a drop of brandy to warm it
up. Arthur said that!' His eyes swivelled round to Lizzie. 'It
was the brandy that did the damage. All Arthur's fault!'

‘
Is it true? Crosby, look at me! Is it true? Is Bonaparte
beaten?'

‘
Swear to God! Wiped out! The Cossacks hunted the
Frenchies through the snow like rabbits! Thousands killed!
Boney rubbed off to save his skin!'

‘Thank God!' Lizzie said. 'Now perhaps the war will be over.’

Héloïse shook her head. 'Forgive me, but I cannot be so
hopeful. Even if it is true, one defeat is not the end for a man
like Bonaparte. If he is not dead, it is not all over.'

‘
Well, you may be right,' Valentina said briskly, 'but at all
events, it shews he
can
be beaten, and that's something worth
knowing. You did very right to come and tell us about it, Mr
Shawe. And now perhaps you ought to go and change your
necktie — it is a little crumpled, no doubt after your driving
accident.’

She coaxed him to the door and her tact would have got
him safely off, if a servant had not appeared at that moment
in a state of great excitement.

‘
Oh ma'am,' she cried to Valentina, apparently noticing nothing of her master's condition or her mistress's pallor,
'there's a servant come for Lady Morland, ma'am, to fetch
her home at once, on account there's been a terrible accident,
and she's wanted, urgent as urgent!'

‘
Good God, what now?' Valentina muttered, putting a
hand to her head.

‘
Accident?' Héloïse said, her lips paling. 'What accident?'
Her mind offered her an instant image of the over-fresh,
untrained bays, a splintered wreck, James carried home on a
litter. 'Is someone hurt?
Nom de Dieu,
tell me at once!'

‘
Oh ma'am, m'lady, I should say,' the servant turned to
her, eyes gleaming with relish, 'they're in a proper state at
Morland Place, so the man said! It was Mr James, m'lady,
took out a pair of young horses —’

Ciel!'
Héloïse cried. Her legs trembled, and Lizzie's hand
caught her arm. 'Is he hurt?'