The Regency (93 page)

‘
You wouldn't have been, if it weren't for me,' Morpurgo
said guiltily. 'I'm sorry, Africa; but you really have made a lot
of people very unhappy.'

‘
I'll forgive you, if you let me do my performance tonight,'
she said cannily. 'You must, for no-one I know has seen it,
and there must be someone to tell Papa how good I was.'

‘
That's another thing — how did you propose to find out
when your father came back to England?'

‘
That's easy,' she said. 'I gave one of the children a penny
to go down to the Admiralty every day and look at the lists
put up on the gate of ships coming in.'

‘
How did you know he wouldn't betray you? He'd have got
a lot more than a penny for telling your family where you
were.'

‘Circus people aren't like that,' Africa said.

*

The rediscovery of Africa, and her homecoming, was the sen
sation of the season, not only in the house but, since the news
of what she had been doing inevitably leaked out, all through London. That the famous Equestrienne had in fact been Lady
Aylesbury's missing niece had everyone gossiping and
exclaiming; and since news rarely travels very far without
transmutation, and the fate of the original Equestrienne was
soon muddled with that of her successor, Africa was variously
supposed to have run away from school because she was
pregnant, and given the child to the circus people to bring
up; or to have been abducted by a circus-artist and made
pregnant; or to have been a changeling all along, whom the
circus people had at last claimed for their own.

The scandal Lucy had precipitated at the same age by
running away to sea was nothing to this. Africa was notorious;
people who had actually seen her perform were suddenly
very popular as dinner-guests, until it gradually began to
appear that there was hardly anyone in London who
hadn't
seen her perform. The glamour of the circus and a great deal
of romantic nonsense about gypsies was mixed up with scan
dalous speculation about secret marriages and love-children;
and Hicks was soon forced to take the knocker off the door
to discourage callers, and to pull the downstairs blinds to prevent idlers from gawping from the street, and actually peering in through the windows in the hope of catching a
glimpse of the Equestrienne herself.

Lucy's relief that she was found, and not lying dead in a
ditch somewhere, was so profound that she had little emotion
left for surprise or wonder. She felt she could hardly be
censorious, considering her own escapade so long ago, and
confined herself merely to rebuking Africa for having left them
all to worry, when she might easily have sent a message at
least to say she was alive and well. Morpurgo was the hero of
the hour, though he effaced himself modestly. Lucy was
mortified that Africa had been in London all the time, and less
than two miles away, while Lucy and her agents had been
scouring Portsmouth and the high seas for her; and that she
had not thought of the answer for herself, though she possessed
all the same information as Morpurgo.

The least she could do for him, she thought, was to use her
influence with Their Lordships to get him commissioned into a ship at the earliest possible moment, which would also have
the effect of removing him from London. As to Africa, she
remained an unsolved problem. That she must leave London
was plain, and as soon as possible, to allow the scandal to die
down; but where could she be sent? No school or private
house could hold her, short of tying her hand and foot and
locking her up.

Morpurgo again came up with the answer. 'Could she not
be sent to her father, ma'am?' he asked tentatively. 'I know it's what she wants, and it would remove her from all these staring eyes and wagging tongues.' From his fervent way of
speaking, it was evident that he was under the misapprehen
sion that the eyes and tongues were more of a threat to Africa
than to her relatives.

Lucy considered the idea. At sea, Africa would be happy
and good, protected and unobserved. She would not be at
school and learning to be a lady, which was what her father
wanted for her, and the correct procedure would be to consult
Haworth before sending Africa out to him. But that would
involve a great deal of time, and what was Lucy to do with
the girl while she waited for a reply? At the very least, if he
did not like it, he could send her straight back when she
reached him, and make his own arrangements for his wayward daughter.

Lucy put the idea to Africa, and she was overjoyed. 'Oh
Aunt, you are so good to me! It's what I want of all things!
Even more than the circus!'

‘
I haven't made up my mind yet,' Lucy said. 'I don't even
know if it can be done. I shall have to consult various people
at the Admiralty.'

‘
Oh, it will be all right, I know it will,' Africa said raptur
ously. ‘To be at sea again! The wind and the sky! To be with
Papa!’

Lucy eyed her with a curious sympathy. 'I will see what can
be done,' she said shortly. 'In the meantime, will you promise
to behave yourself, and not draw any more attention to us?'

‘
Oh yes, dear Aunt, absolutely! I will do anything you tell
me to. I'll hide in the attic if it will help.'

‘
I don't think that will be necessary. I think I had better
send you down to Wolvercote for the time being. You can do
lessons with Rosamund to pass the time, and there you'll be able to ride and walk without being stared at. But you must
promise not to run away again.'

‘Of course I won't,' Africa said. 'Oh thank you, Aunt Lucy!
You are the best aunt in the world. I knew you'd understand
how I felt.’

All too well, Lucy thought drily, but she kept the thought
to herself.

*

Fanny had been furious about the whole affair. She liked to be the centre of attention, and everyone had been too taken
up with Africa to think of her. And then, when people did
notice her, it was to ask questions about her cousin, and they
gave her such peculiar smiles and looks! There were some
kinds of fame, Fanny concluded, that one was better off with
out. Africa had made them a scandal and a laughing-stock,
and brought shame on the family name.

She was very pleased when Africa departed for Wolvercote,
and hoped that the notoriety would begin to fade away. Aunt
Lucy was much preoccupied with trying to arrange for Africa
to be sent back to her father, and their evening engagements
had been disastrously curtailed; but at least it gave Fanny a
welcome freedom for supervision. Her new maid, Beaver, was
very good with clothes and hair, but not a little dim, and
Fanny was able to manipulate her very easily. She had also
made friends with the new groom, a callow and forward-
looking youth called Gregory, who was pleased to do anything
he was told for the sake of a shilling here and there.

Since Parslow was busy driving his lady in search of admirals
and senior officials, it was Gregory who attended Fanny on
her rides, and who drove her around the Park in the phaeton,
or took her shopping in Bond Street with Beaver to carry
the parcels. As long as one or both of the servants were with
her, her reputation was safe, and she could meet Mr Hawker
at prearranged times and places, and carry on the delicious
oblique conversations with him that so fascinated her.

It occurred to Fanny more than once that she was falling in
love with Hawker, and she resented it, and resisted the idea. Hawker was attractive and fascinating, but he was not titled
or rich, and she did not want to marry him. Indeed, he wasn't eligible at all, and while she would have enjoyed a flirtation
with him, as she had with so many other men she had no
intention of marrying, she did not want him to disturb her
peace, which he was all too prone to do.

She wondered sometimes if he were courting her for her
fortune, as others had already done; but then she had to
admit to herself that he did not seem to be courting her at all.
He treated her casually, almost with amusement, as if she
were too young and unsophisticated to interest him seriously.
Whenever they met, his eyes and voice caressed her in a way that distracted her senses; but he did not pursue her — it was
always she who was the more eager for the next meeting.
Every time they met she determined that this time it must be
he who proposed it; and every time, when they parted and he
was about to stroll away without having formed another
assignation, she yielded, half ashamed, to her inner desires.

She did not clearly understand what he was doing in London,
where he seemed on the fringes of society, not precisely
included, nor denied. He was never at Almacks, nor at the
balls or routs of the stuffier hostesses, but she met him here
and there at lesser functions. One day, a week after Africa
had gone down to Wolvercote, she met him by arrangement
at the gate of the Park, and got down from the phaeton to
walk with him, while Beaver walked a few paces behind, and
Gregory drove at snail's pace behind them.

‘
How are things at Upper Grosvenor Street today?' he
asked her.

‘
I hope you don't mean to ask me about my cousin,' she
said quickly, 'for if anyone else mentions Africa to me, I shall
scream. Every partner I had last night at Mrs Fauncett's
wanted to know where she was. I was quite cutting to Mr
Paston; and that odious Lavinia Fauncett asked me if
I
had
seen any of Africa's costumes, and looked so at my head-dress
that I could have scratched her eyes out.’

Hawker laughed aloud, and Fanny scowled. 'I don't know
why you think it's amusing. And besides, why weren't you
there? I thought we were engaged for the two last before
supper?'

‘
I had a more pressing engagement with a pack of cards in
St James's Square,' he said indifferently.

She raised her eyebrows, surprised and offended. 'You
prefer playing cards to dancing with me?'

‘
Not prefer, Miss Morland,' he said. ‘If things were otherwise, I should like nothing better than to dance with you all night, every night. But a man must live, and you do not pay
me to dance with you.’

She stared at him. 'What can you mean?'

‘I mean that I spent last night repairing my fortunes in a
gaming-house,' he said, enjoying her innocence. 'I came out a
hundred guineas up, which means I can pay enough of my
bills to extend my credit.'