The Emerald Duchess (9 page)

Emily curtsied to them both as they left, and after carefully locking the front door and instructing the maid that on no account was she to admit the officer who had called the other evening, she went upstairs.

The Duchess of Richmond had rented a house on the me de la Blanchisserie, and it was here that the civilians and the military gathered that evening—everyone who was anyone, that is, for admission was by ticket only. Lady Quentin told Emily later that even so it was a perfect crush, why, even H.R.H. the Prince of Orange had come especially to Brussels to attend!

The ballroom was situated on the first floor of the house, and the duchess had had it transformed by using the royal colors of crimson, gold, and black. There were brilliant draperies and hangings and many blazing chandeliers, and even the pillars were entwined in flowers and ribbons. The Duke of Wellington arrived rather late, and a young lady whose family was well acquainted with him had the daring to break away from the dance and go to him immediately to ask him if the rumors that were circulating were true. The duke answered her solemnly. Yes, all too true, and they would all be off tomorrow. Instantly a great buzz arose as the news went around. Lady Quentin confided that for a moment she felt quite faint, and it was only by hanging tightly to Tony’s arm while
he
tried to protect her from the crowd milling around that she was able to contain herself, “and seeing a very fat elderly lady having hysterics,” she added. Tony left her in Lady Caroline Capel’s charge while he sought out his commanding officer. When he came back, there was a grim line to his mouth.

When the Quentins arrived home so early, with Lady Quentin weeping softly as she came up to her room, Emily knew at once what had happened. The captain came in just then, but when Emily would have left them, be asked her to remain.

“We do not have much time, and what
I
have to say I wish Nelly to hear, too, for she will be involved,” he explained.

Emily went to stand behind her mistress and waited while the captain paced up and down, running a hand through his black hair.

“I want you both to make for Antwerp as soon as possible in the morning,”
h
e said firmly. “No, Alicia, there will be
no
pleading. I insist on your promise that you will obey me.
Napoleon is almost to Quatre Bras, and that is only about twenty miles from Brussels.”

Emily gasped, and Lady Quentin turned pale and clenched her hands tightly together.

“In the unlikely event that we should not be victorious, the French could be in the city as soon as tomorrow evening. I shall not be easy unless I am sure you will not still be here. Do you understand, both of you?”

“Of course, Tony, I will do what you say, I promise,” Lady Quentin said at once.

Emily nodded when he swung his glance to her.

“Take good care of your mistress, Nelly, and do not let her return until it is safe, no matter what news is brought.” He looked very grim, and Emily realized that he was referring to his possible death or wounding, and she swallowed as she nodded again.

“You are to dismiss the servants and take only what you need when you go. Do not waste time packing finery,” he continued. “You had better go by barge; who knows what state the roads will be in? Unfortunately, Boothby and I will be gone too early to see to it. Nelly, you must get a place for your mistress and yourself and obtain passports as well.”

“Yes, sir,” Emily answered. She was impressed with the captain’s quiet orders and the way Lady Quentin was controlling herself, and vowed she would do no less, although she had to admit she was very frightened. Perhaps they all were, but she saw that the only thing to do was not to show it.

“Leave the carriage and team here; better still, I will take it to headquarters. We may have need of it,” he added, his voice grim, but he did not elaborate. Fortunately, neither girl thought to ask him what he meant.

“I think that is all. Be sure you have enough money with you, Alicia, and do not return to Brussels until I send you word. If the news is bad—if this time we do not win—sail for England immediately. Promise me you will do as I say.”

For the first time he looked so upset that Lady Quentin rose and went to him, holding out her hands. “My dearest, do not worry. I am just as much under your orders as any of your soldiers.” She gave him a shaky salute, and the captain’s grim expression changed to a smile.

“Best of my troops, Alicia! I am proud of you.”

Emily stole away as he took his wife into his arms, and then, when she heard them murmuring, she went down to the kitchen. There was so little time left. She had to let them have this last night alone.

5

Emily spent what was left of the night curled up in an old chair, but she was up and heating water as soon as she heard the Quentins stirring. Sergeant Boothby had slipped in the back door, and with a jaunty wink he took the jug up so the captain might shave. Emily busied herself making the tea for them both, which they drank hastily in the kitchen. The captain had a grim, faraway expression on his face this morning, and even the sergeant was unusually quiet.

Just before they left, Captain Quentin made her promise again that she would follow all his instructions, and as Emily curtsied, she could not help saying, “Do not worry about your wife, sir. She is not the young girl we both knew a few months ago, she has grown up.”

The captain nodded, his expression brightening as he realized she was right. “Go to her now, Nelly,” he said, “for I am sure she needs you”

With that, they were gone, Emily wishing the sergeant good luck as he followed the captain out the door.

“Never you worries your pretty little ’ead about
me
, Miss Nelson,” he said in his old, irrepressible way. “Oim always fine! Lands on me feet, I does, no matter wot!”

When Emily went to Lady Quentin’s room, she found her once again waving good-bye and holding her candle high in the window so her husband might see her. There was only the barest lightening of the sky, although it appeared it was going to be a fine day. At least it is not raining as it has been the past few days, Emily thought, and then had to shake herself for her silliness. What difference did it make whether you
fought in in rain or brilliant sunshine? It was horrible either way.

She persuaded Lady Quentin to get back in bed and have a cup of tea, prepared for her to break down, now they were alone. But her mistress did no such thing. While she sipped the hot brew, she instructed Emily to fetch a paper and quill and ink, and take down a list of things they would need to take with them to Antwerp. “We might as well use our time well, Nelly,” she said, and even though her eyes were suspiciously bright, she did not weep. She decided a pair of portmanteaus would suffice for the few belongings they would need.

“And my jewels, of course. As soon as it is time, I will go with you to the bank and then to the military commander for our passports. There is no use trying to get a place on the barge without them. Oh, and Nelly, send the housekeeper up to me when she arrives, if you please, so I can give her her wages and dismiss her.”

But this Emily was unable to do, for she never appeared, and when Emily went up to the attic, she discovered the scullery maid had gone as well, with all her bits and pieces. It seemed the Belgians were convinced that Napoleon would be victorious, and they had no desire to be caught serving the English. Lady Quentin shrugged when she learned of their defection. “It is only to be expected,” she said. “I am sure the populace are already planning a great fete to welcome the French.”

Emily helped her to dress, and then the two of them made their way to the bank through the ominously empty streets. Empty, that is, of the reassuring presence of the military, although there were many other civilians hurrying here and there. After Lady Quentin had withdrawn a sufficient amount of money, they had a long wait before they were finally admitted to the military commander’s office. He looked harassed, and was impatient to the point of rudeness. When she asked for passports for herself and her maid, he rose and shook a
stern
finger at her.

“You are not the first one here with the same request this morning, Lady Quentin. I cannot believe it! Why, it is not for us to panic and run, for that will only spread alarm. Remember, you are an Englishwoman! Besides, there is no need for such lily-heartedness; our troops shall beat Napoleon in short order as they did before, and then you will feel vastly silly, will you not, so far from the scene of our triumph?”

“But, sir,” Lady Quentin said earnestly, “I promised my husband that I would go, on my sacred honor.”

“No, no! I refuse to issue the passports. You must be brave, madam, and by your behavior show these—these foreigners what the English are made of. What we want now is
blood
, not retreat! And now, you must excuse me, for I have much to do.”

He held the door of his office open, and Lady Quentin and Emily were forced to leave. Outside, in the street, Lady Quentin said, “What a terrible man! As if it made any difference whether we go or stay.” She did not sound at all upset, and Emily looked at her intently.

Lady Quentin looked a little conscious as she shook her head. “I know, Nelly, that it will mean breaking my promise, but what can we do without passports? Besides, Tony
thinks
we have gone and so he will not worry, and that is the most important thing. And you know,” she added as she began to walk in the direction of their rented house, “I cannot help but feel the commander is right. I am sure we will vanquish the French.”

Emily shook her head in despair of ever keeping her promises to the captain as she trailed Lady Quentin. They had not gone very far when they were hailed from a passing carriage.

“Alicia! Are you still here too?” She looked up to discover Lady Caroline Capel motioning her coachman to pull up. “Come, let me give you a lift home. The streets are so crowded, it is not safe.” She laughed lightly as Lady Quentin and Emily were handed into the carriage. “I have been to the wharf, and what a crush! All the world is trying to escape Brussels, but it is no use. Wellington has commanded all the barges, and there are none left for us poor civilians.”

Lady Quentin asked the reason, and in a more sober tone Lady Caroline said that they were reserved to carry the wounded. Both ladies were silent for a long moment, and then Lady Caroline patted her friend’s hand. “Come, Alicia, you must be as brave as your husband. Do you stay in town? Mr. Capel and I are going to a rustic retreat outside the city. Come with us, I beg you!”

Lady Quentin thanked her, but said that since she was unable to get to Antwerp, she rather thought she would remain where her husband would be sure to find her when he returned from the front. In everyone’s mind lingered the thought that he might never return, but no one spoke of it.

Lady Caroline set them down at their door and bid them good fortune. “If I were not so near my time, dear Alicia, I would stay with you, I vow, but Mr. Capel is so worried about the baby, he insists on our departure. Take care, my dear. I shall be praying for you and your gallant captain.” With a last wave she was gone, and Lady Quentin and her maid went into the house.

“I think we should put up the shutters, Nelly,” she said as she removed her bonnet. “I know they are no real protec
t
ion, but we will feel safer, I think.”

She never thought to help, and so it was some time later that Emily had the downstairs windows shuttered and barred, with the front door securely bolted. When she was done, both women felt better.

All through that long, sultry day they waited. Emily prepared some simple meals, which was all she knew how to cook, and Lady Quentin made herself eat. She found herself pacing up and down most of the day, praying silently for her husband’s safety, and Emily added her prayers as well. Toward evening, they could hear the guns clearly, and Lady Quentin, quite pale now, asked Emily to go and see if she could find out any news. Emily did not want to leave her alone in the house with dusk coming on, but her mistress insisted. “I shall be worse if I do not know what is happening, Nelly. Hurry back as fast as you can.”

Emily slipped outside and made her way to the ramparts, where a vast crowd had assembled to listen to the echoes of the artillery and make speculations about the course of the battle. Emily thought she would remember the booming sounds of the guns as long as she lived, and she could not help feeling very frightened. She was standing a little apart, straining her eyes toward the horizon as if she might see what was happening, when an acquaintance of the Quentins came up and spoke to her.

“Isn’t it just terrible, Miss Nelson?” this lady said, wringing her hands in an agitated way. “They are saying we have lost the Battle Round the Crossroads, and Napoleon will be upon us before much longer. I have heard such tales, you would not believe it.”

Here, Mrs. Ward rummaged through her reticule for a handkerchief as the tears poured down her cheeks. “Tell Lady Quentin to come to the Greville’s house tomorrow if she wishes news,” she said when she had composed herself a little. “Lady Charlotte seems to know what is going on for a great deal of information finds its way to her from Wellington and others. I shall be there as well. Give your mistress my love and tell her that I will see her tomorrow.”

She paused, and Emily, who had always thought her a silly, overdressed woman concerned only with her own comforts, was disconcerted to hear her add, “Do not tell Alicia this, my girl, but the news is very bad. We have lost almost five thousand of our men. Pray God our troops will hold! Tell Alicia that as far as you were able to discover, the Guards were not engaged, for the Scottish regiments bore the
b
runt of the fighting.”

Emily nodded and curtsied as Mrs. Ward hurried away, and then she turned to peer again through the gathering dusk. Was she imagining it, or were the sounds of the guns closer? She did not know how people could continue to stand there listening to those ominous echoes of the fighting. For herself, she wished there was some place she could go where she would not have to hear them.

“Miss Nelson?” she heard a deep voice ask from close behind her, and she whirled, her hand going to her throat in surprise. The Duke of Wrotherham stood there, and when he saw the panic in her eyes, he said, “Pardon me, I did not mean to startle you. I see your mistress also left her departure too late, like the rest of these improvident people.”

He sounded so angry and disapproving that Emily said, “We did try to leave, your Grace, but we cou
l
d not obtain passports, and all the barges have been commandeered by the military.”

Just then there was another salvo, and she swung around to stare toward the sound, clutching her reticule with fingers that had turned white with her grip.

“Come away at once,” the duke commanded, holding out
h
is arm. “There is nothing to do here but listen to the echo of
t
he guns, and I see you are frightened. I will take you home, such as you should not be out in the streets alone, with dark
c
oming on. People—men—do strange things in wartime.”

Emily hesitated for a moment, and then she put her hand in his arm, grateful for his escort. As they walked away, she said, “You told me that once before, your Grace, but maids are not allowed the luxury of such social niceties.”

He made an impatient movement with his other hand. “I still say that in your case, Miss Nelson, it would be wiser to be more prudent. I wish there was more time to talk; I would like to know in what circumstances you began your service, among other things. But come, tell me your direction.”

Emily gave him the address of Lady Quentin’s house, and since she had no intention of telling him her origins, she was glad it was not very far away. She felt strange being so close to him, close enough to feel the hard muscles of his arm under her hand, and yet it was somehow comforting to be in his care. Since her head came only to his shoulder, he made her feel protected, and small and feminine. They walked through the streets in a silence that seemed to be casting a spell over her, and Emily wished the duke would say something, but when she peeked up at his dark face, it was to see him lost in thought, his dark brows drawn together in a ferocious frown.

They reached the Quentin house at last. Emily withdrew her hand and curtsied, saying, “Thank you for your escort, your Grace.
I
hope it did not take you too far out of your way.”

He stared down at her for a moment and then said absently, “That does not signify in the slightest. Have a care for yourself. A girl like you should not have to endure all this.” He waved his arm and then he turned and strode away.

Emily stared after him for a moment, wondering whether he meant her being a servant in such a mean little house, or being caught in a country at war. She watched him until he disappeared around a
corner
, and then she ran inside to give Lady Quentin the news she had learned.

The next two days were even harder for the civilians trapped in Brussels. Rumors flew—some true, some false, and no one had any way of knowing which was which. Some people shook their heads and insisted that the French were even then marching on the capital; others claimed a great victory for the British. To Lady Quentin and Emily it was all a nightmare.

Lady Quentin had gone to Lady Charlotte Greville’s the morning after she had sent Emily to the ramparts. This lady had reassured her that the Guards had not been engaged as yet, but while this news sent her heart soaring, it was not much longer before a gentleman arrived and claimed that indeed they had been in the fight, and sustained heavy losses as well. Lady Charlotte frowned at this Mr. Barton, and when he saw Lady Quentin’s pale, strained face, he desisted, adding only, “Perhaps it is not so. Who can tell what is happening? And remember, ladies, the French are not here yet. We must remember Torres Vedras!”

It was a very long day, and an even longer night. By the next morning, Emily felt sure that Lady Quentin would break her iron control if she did not have some definite word soon. Captain Quentin had not sent word, of course, for he believed that his wife was safe in Antwerp, so she did not even have the consolation that some of the other wives did, whose husbands wrote to them to tell them of their safety.

They returned to Lady Charlotte’s house to wait. Toward afternoon, Lady Frances Webster came in, her face showing her worry and strain, and told those assembled that she had had a letter from Wellington written very early that same morning in the village of Waterloo, some eight miles from Brussels. She read out part of it to the shocked, silent gathering, and now they knew the worst. A desperate battle had been fought on Friday at Quatre Bras, which Wellington claimed to have won. But he cautioned her that the troops had had to retreat and that in the course of further fighting, he might have to withdraw even more—to Brussels, in fact. He advised her to get her family ready to evacuate to Antwerp in a moment’s notice. There was an excited, frightened buzz of conversation as Lady Frances read this section, and Emily, from where she was standing behind Lady Quentin’s chair, could see her mistress clenching her hands together so tightly that the knuckles were white.