A Civil Contract (20 page)

She left the room, putting an end to further discussion. But Lydia had nothing to say. A curtain had been lifted, allowing her a glimpse behind the scene of what had seemed to her innocence a state of remarkable felicity. Too young to probe beneath the surface, it had not occurred to her that two people who presented to the world an appearance of calm content might not be as happy as they seemed. It was not the first time she had had such a disquieting glimpse, but on the previous occasion Adam had recovered himself so quickly that she had soon been able to forget the incident. He and Jenny seemed to stand on such easy terms that she had not wondered whether there were shoals beneath those placid waters. To his seventeen-year-old sister it was almost impossible to suppose that Adam was still in love with Julia. Sacrifice Lydia could appreciate; a smiling sacrifice was much harder to recognize, and very hard indeed to understand.

It was in a perturbed mood that she followed Jenny down to the drawing-room. There had been more than vexation in Adam’s face when he had seen that she was wearing Jenny’s pearls: there had been a look of revulsion; and Jenny had recognized it, and had been hurt by it. Between Adam and Jenny there could be no comparison; but it was, nevertheless, unkind of him to have wounded Jenny, who hadn’t meant to offend him.

She was relieved to see, as she entered the drawing-room, that he smiled warmly at Jenny. Perhaps, she thought hopefully, as she shook hands with Brough, she had refined too much upon the incident; perhaps Adam really felt that the pearls were too magnificent for a girl to wear.

Had she but known it, he was deeply conscious of having allowed his revulsion to overcome his forbearance. Seizing the opportunity afforded by her being engaged with Brough, he went up to Jenny, saying in a lowered tone: ‘Thank you! I shouldn’t have enjoyed a minute’s peace if you hadn’t persuaded her to take it off! What a hare-brained thing to do, to lend your pearls to my romp of a sister!’

She answered only with a constrained smile. He was tempted to leave the subject, but she was wearing her wooden look, always a sign of distress. Infamous to have wounded her, he thought, when she had meant nothing but good! He tried again. ‘What’s more, it wouldn’t be at all the thing for a girl in Lydia’s circumstances to go about with a fortune round her neck.’

Her countenance relaxed; she said: ‘No, very true! I hadn’t considered – I only thought how well the necklace would become her. I’m sorry!’

‘Which it certainly did! Poor Lydia! I wish I may not be in disgrace with her!’

She laughed; and Lydia, hearing her, instantly forgave Adam. Perhaps married persons were subject to tiffs; at all events, everything was comfortable again, with Jenny her placid self, and Adam in quite his best spirits. She went down to dinner feeling that it was going to be a good party after all, which, indeed, it was. Nor was there any further sign of misunderstanding between Jenny and Adam, so that she was soon able to banish the incident from her mind, and to think instead of all the excitements in store for her.

The best of these, in her opinion, would be the processions of the Allied Sovereigns to the Guildhall; for Jenny, everything else dwindled to insignificance beside the gilt-edged card which invited Lord and Lady Lynton to attend a Dress Party at Carlton House on Thursday, 21st July, to have the honour of meeting her Majesty the Queen. Jenny’s first thought, on receiving this, was that it must be a hoax; her second that it was a thousand pities Lydia could not attend the function. She was astonished to learn that Lydia had no particular desire to attend it; and quite shocked by the discovery that the Regent, in Lydia’s view, was a fat old man, who creaked when he moved, and reeked of scent and Diabolino. He had visited Fontley when she was a very little girl, and she had been obliged to endure his pinching her cheek, and calling her sweetheart. ‘And the Queen is a snuffy old thing,’ she said. ‘Watching the processions will be far better sport!’

Besides the four Oversleys, and Brough, Jenny had invited Mr and Mrs Usselby to go with them on this occasion. It was Adam’s private conviction that some of the guests would fail to arrive before the Strand was closed to vehicles; but he found that he had underrated Jenny’s talent for organization. She invited all the guests to partake of an early breakfast in Grosvenor Street, saying that she had not taken parties to watch the Lord Mayor’s Show for years without learning how to arrange such affairs. ‘It’s my belief that if you invite people to go to a show you must get them together, and
take
them to it, if you don’t wish to be in a worry, wondering if they’ll arrive in time.’

Thanks to this foresight all went smoothly, the guests assembling at Lynton House for breakfast, and going on afterwards in three carriages to the Strand. They reached their destination without much trouble, but early in the day though it was the street was fast filling with sightseers. Stabling had been arranged; but how long it would be after the processions had passed before the crowds converging upon the route dispersed sufficiently to allow the passage of vehicles was a question which caused Lord Oversley to remark ruefully to Adam that they might think themselves fortunate if they reached their homes again in time for dinner.

Mr Chawleigh, with his customary munificence, had hired the whole building for the accommodation of the party; and, besides ordering a large and varied nuncheon from Gunter’s, with several cases of his best champagne, he had sent Butterbank, with two liveried subordinates, to wait on the company. Lady Oversley was quite as much startled as Mrs Usselby at being received by two footmen, but when she had been conducted upstairs to the first floor, and saw that besides the benches set up in the windows the room had been furnished with several comfortable chairs she was easily able to condone this ostentation. Adam found it more difficult, but not by the flicker of an eyelid did he betray that these lavish preparations had been made without his knowledge or approval. The Usselbys might exchange significant glances, but Mr Charles Oversley, forgetful of the indifference befitting a man of mode, ejaculated, as his eyes fell on the table already spread with pies, pâtés, capons, a glazed ham, and fruit, creams, and jellies past counting: ‘By Jupiter, this is something like!’

There were some hours to while away before the head of the procession was expected to come into sight, but the time passed more quickly than the more pessimistic members of the party had expected. Lady Oversley sat down to enjoy a cosy chat with Jenny; Lord Oversley fell asleep over the
Morning Post
; and the rest of the party gathered in the two windows, discussing such topics as the breaking-off of the Princess Charlotte’s engagement, and the shocking result of Lord Cochrane’s trial; and being amused by watching the crowds in the street, and laying bets on which of the females within view would be the next to drop down in a swoon.

Since Brough was devoting himself to Lydia the merest civility must have obliged Adam to sit down beside Julia, but Lady Oversley, stealing more than one apprehensive look towards them, wished that she knew what they were saying to each other. She would scarcely have been reassured had she been able to overhear their conversation, for a chance recollection had led to the exchange of reminiscences, which she must have thought dangerous. Recalling visits to Fontley, Julia said with a sigh: ‘I suppose it is all changed now.’

‘Nothing has been changed there,’ Adam replied.

‘I’m glad. Your mama was used to complain that it was become shabby, but it was so beautiful! I loved it, and should weep to see it made smart.’ She raised her eyes to his face. ‘Is it agreeable to be very wealthy?’

‘I am not very wealthy.’

‘No? Well, the wealth may be Jenny’s, but your life is very luxurious, isn’t it? It must be pleasant to have everything you want, I suppose.’

He stared at her for a moment, but said at last, evenly enough: ‘I suppose so – if it were possible.’

She again raised her eyes, and he saw the tears in them. ‘Everything that can be bought. They say happiness can be bought. I had not thought so, but I don’t know. Are you happy, Adam?’

‘How can you ask me such a question?’ he said. ‘You must know –’ He stopped, and looked away from her.

‘I want to know. You seem happy. And I wonder if, perhaps –’ She broke off, a tiny frown on her brow. ‘I may be married myself soon,’ she said abruptly. ‘Shall you care for that?’

It was like a blow over the heart, but he had schooled himself to withstand it, and he replied: ‘Yes. But I shall wish you very happy. There’s nothing else left to us but to wish each other well, is there? Who – Or must I not ask?’

‘Why not? It’s Rockhill, of course.’

‘Rockhill?’ he repeated incredulously. ‘You’re not serious? A man old enough to have been your father, and one, moreover, who – You can’t mean it!’

She smiled rather mournfully. ‘If you could marry a fortune, why should not I?’ she asked.

‘The case is different! You know why I –’ he checked himself.

‘Oh, yes, I know! But did you think I had fallen in love?
Could
you think so?’

‘Not that! But – O God, I don’t know! Only that every feeling revolts – !’

‘Does it? Every feeling revolted in me once, but I didn’t tell you so.’ He could not answer her, and she said in a softer tone: ‘Don’t mind it! I mean to try if I can’t be a little happy. He’s charming, you know, and when I’m with him I feel – oh, peaceful! No, not quite that – I can’t explain! But he loves me, and I must be loved! I can’t live if I’m not loved!’

They were interrupted. Mr Oversley exclaimed that he could hear cheering in the distance, and adjured his parents to come to the window directly. All was bustle at once, and Adam had time to recover himself while everyone’s attention was distracted. As he performed his duties, arranging his guests suitably in the windows, no one would have guessed that beneath his smiling calm a tumult of emotion was raging. Julia’s words had been knife-thrusts; he winced under them, and was startled to recognize in the medley of rage, jealousy, and hopeless desire, resentment. The thought flashed through his mind that she might have spared him. It was gone in a moment, yielding to remorse, and an aching pity. Though he had been the victim of circumstance he was the author of her unhappiness, and that she was unhappy he could not doubt: she had spoken them in a whisper, but her last words had been a cry; and in her lovely face had been a look that was almost distraught.

‘Here they come!’ Lydia’s voice broke in on his painful thoughts. ‘Oh, how dashing! Adam, what are they? Which regiment?’

He was standing behind her, and leaned forward to look down at the escort. ‘Light Dragoons,’ he replied, adding, as his eyes took in the buff facings on the blue uniforms: ‘The Eleventh – the Cherry Pickers!’

She began to demand an explanation of this nickname, but broke off as the first of the seven carriages carrying the officers of the Regent’s household followed the escort. In identifying these personages Brough was found to be more knowledgeable than Adam, who was able to relax his attention again. Mrs Usselby was positive she had recognized General Platoff amongst the foreign generals, but admitted, after argument, that she must have been mistaken, since the Tsar’s procession, coming from the Pulteney Hotel, would follow the Regent’s.

The state carriages bearing the Royal Dukes followed the generals. Adam glanced towards the other window, to be sure that everyone was enjoying a good view. His eyes fell on his wife’s face. She was standing, like himself, behind her guests, and never had she looked plainer. There were spots of high colour on her cheekbones, but under them she was sallow, a trifle hagged. He looked away, unable to bear the comparison with Julia, seated quite close to her.

The Speaker’s coach had passed, and the carriages bearing the members of the Cabinet. A troop of Horse Guards came next, preceding the Regent’s officers of state, and the foreign suites. As these carriages went slowly past a slight movement to his right made Adam turn his head just in time to see Jenny going unobtrusively out of the room, her handkerchief pressed to her lips. He hesitated; and then, remembering that he had several times thought that she was looking dragged and weary, he withdrew quietly from the window, and followed her.

She had gone into the back-parlour, and had sunk into a chair there. Her eyes lifted as he entered; she removed the handkerchief from her mouth to say faintly: ‘It’s nothing! I shall be better directly – pray go back! Don’t say anything about this!’

He shut the door, looking at her in concern. ‘You are ill, Jenny: what is it?’

‘I was overcome by the heat. Oh, do go back! I shall come in a minute.’

‘I’ll see if Lady Oversley has any smelling-salts.
You
don’t carry them, I know!’

‘
No!
I don’t need them, and I don’t wish anyone to know!’

‘But –’

Her chest heaved. ‘I don’t feel faint. I feel
sick
!’

This unromantic disclosure made him smile, but it was with real compassion that he said: ‘My poor dear!’

‘It’s nothing!’ she repeated.

He went back into the other room, to collect a bottle of champagne from the wine-cooler. Nearly all his guests had their attention fixed on the eight cream horses drawing the Regent’s state carriage, but Lady Oversley looked round as he came into the room, and came to him, whispering: ‘Is Jenny unwell? Shall I go to her?’

He replied beneath his breath: ‘Just a trifle overcome by the heat. Don’t heed it! She can’t bear that anyone should know, and be made uncomfortable.’

She appreciated this. ‘To be sure! Tell her she may depend on me to turn it off, if anyone should remark on her absence. Take my salts! You’ll fetch me, if you should need me.’

Thus armed, he returned to the other parlour. Jenny was leaning back in her chair with her eyes closed, but she opened them when he held the vinaigrette under her nose, and said angrily: ‘Where had you that? I most particularly asked you not to tell anyone!’

‘Stop ripping up at me, little shrew! I had it from Lady Oversley, and all I told her was that you were overcome by the heat. I was obliged to do so, because she had seen you slip away.’