The Emperor (25 page)

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Authors: Cynthia Harrod-Eagles

Tags: #Aristocracy (Social Class) - England, #Historical Fiction, #Family, #General, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Sagas, #Great Britain, #Historical, #Great Britain - History - 1789-1820, #Fiction, #Domestic fiction, #Morland family (Fictitious characters)

BOOK: The Emperor
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Héloïse laughed, because it was so like her. 'But I cannot
afford horses, so what does it matter? There is a spare
bedroom for you for when you come and visit me, and
another one besides —
quelle richesse!
What could anyone want more?’

Charles had gone into a huddle with the agent over
terms, and Roberta, who had been examining the plants,
came towards them and said, 'I like your house exceedingly,
Héloïse! But did you know, the agent says it is called
Scroggins, because that was the name of the original tenant.
Isn't that dreadful?'


I shall change it,' Héloïse said firmly, looking around her
with the sun in her eyes. 'I shall call it
Plaisir,
because this is
where I shall find it at last.’

*

It was late when the carriage, having left the others at
Shawes, took Jemima home to Morland Place, pleasantly
tired from a long day in the air and sunshine, her head
reeling with new impressions, and plans for wallpaper, paint
and curtains. Mary Ann had gone to bed, and Father
Thomas was in his room, but Jemima found Edward and
James in the drawing room, the former reading, the latter
with his sketching-book on his knee.

She asked Oxhey to bring her a little supper on a tray,
and sat down in the chair opposite Edward, who looked up from his book and smiled questioningly, ‘Well?'

‘Very well,' she answered. 'Charles's agent has made a
good choice. It is a very pretty little house.' She felt James's
eyes on her, and turned to look at him.

‘But does she like it?' James asked abruptly. 'What does she think of it?'

‘She likes it very well indeed. It is all agreed upon.'

‘And when does she move in?' he asked, and his voice sounded harsh to Jemima's ears.

‘Very soon, I should think. There is a little to be done in the way of painting and papering, which a fortnight should see completed. I imagine she will not delay.'


A fortnight!' James exclaimed, putting his book aside
and getting up to walk restlessly about the room. Edward looked at his mother and shrugged; and Jemima wondered whether James thought a fortnight too long or too short.

‘The village is Coxwold,' Jemima went on, addressing herself to Edward. 'It seems a respectable sort of place, and not too far for me to visit, though I suppose I shall have to leave my horses at the inn. The house is too small to have stables. She is going to call it
Plaisir –
charming, don't you think?'


Will she –' Edward began, but was interrupted by a
crash as James knocked something from a side table. It was
a tall Chinese vase, a present from Mr Hobsbawn which Jemima privately thought very hideous. Fortunately it fell onto the carpet, and did not break. They watched it roll on
its side for a moment, and then looked at James, not
knowing whether he had bumped into it accidentally or on purpose. His fists were clenched at his sides, and his face was taut.

He stared at the vase for a moment, and then resumed
his restless pacing, catching it with the side of his shoe in
passing. It rang, high and sweetly: it was good quality china,
at least, Jemima found herself thinking.


Jamie, please sit down,' she said, quite gently. He looked
haggard, as though he had not slept properly for a long
time. 'There is no use in this sort of thing. It only wears you
out.'

‘It wears us all out,' Edward said with scant sympathy. 'I don't know what's got into you these last couple of years,
James, but it's time you stopped. Think about someone
other than yourself for once.'

‘I do,' he said bitterly. 'All the time.'

‘It's useless to go on like this,' Edward went on reason
ably. 'You made your own choices, you know, and there's
no –'

‘Shut up!' James shouted, goaded and turning on his brother. 'For God's sake, don't keep on preaching! What do you know of it, you smug, self-satisfied prig? What do you know of love? You've never cared for anyone in your life,
and to have you prating and giving advice – it's unendur
able!’

With that he crashed out of the door, passing the startled
Oxhey, who was ushering in a footman with Jemima's
supper tray. When they were alone again, Ned exclaimed angrily, 'It is intolerable. Do you know what he has been
doing? I couldn't think why he kept going out on foot – you
know he's never been a walker – and today I discovered that
he's been walking across the fields to Shawes, and lurking about the grounds hoping to catch a sight of Héloïse.'

‘Oh Ned, are you sure?' Jemima asked, dismayed.

‘Quite sure. What the devil does he think he's doing? If
anyone sees him, they'll think he's gone mad, or worse,
they'll put two and two together. You'll have to talk to him,
Mama. The next thing he'll be making assignations with her.
Mrs James is bound to start wondering sooner or later why
he grinds his teeth every time Héloïse is mentioned. I'm not
deeply attached to Mrs James, but she is his wife, and she deserves to be treated properly.'


Even if she does fill the house with Chinese vases,'
Jemima said wryly. Ned put his book down and went to pick
up the vase and restore it to its table, also a gift from Mary Ann's father, a thing of elaborately carved and gilded legs, with a marble top which made it unstable.

‘There's no harm in her,' Ned said, frowning down at the top-heavy combination of vase and table, 'and even if there were, well, it's not
right,
Mother, is it?'

‘No, it's not right. But I don't think James will listen to anything I have to say to him. He knows as well as you do how he ought to behave.' She thought for a moment. 'He's like a child who can't stop being naughty, even though he wants to. He has gone beyond his own governance.’

Edward gave her an exasperated look. 'Mother, he's
thirty years old! He's a married man, with a child of his own.
This kind of conduct in a man of his age is not just wrong, it's – it's unseemly.’

Jemima put down the chicken leg she had been toying with, and looked sadly at her eldest son. 'Oh Ned, how old you sound sometimes.' He stared at her, and his cheeks
reddened, and he picked up his book in silence and went
back to reading it. Jemima watched him for a moment, and then said quietly, 'I'm sorry, Ned. I didn't mean to hurt you.
I know how much of the burden falls on you. But in a way, I
think Jamie's right about you. Not that you haven't loved, because I know you do love many people, deeply; but
 
you've never known a conflict of love or loyalty. In a way,
you've never been tested —’

She stopped as he stood up abruptly, his cheeks burning and his eyes unusually bright. He pressed his lips together,
as a child will to stop them quivering, and laid his book
down very precisely. 'After all these years, how little you
know me,' he said, and left her.

Jemima knew where to find James. He was sitting in the
Lady-chapel, his hands folded in his lap, staring at the pale
golden flowers of the candle flames; since Mary Ann had
come to the house, the Lady-altar was always illuminated. Jemima sat down beside him without speaking, and after a
while put her arm across his shoulder. For a moment he resist
ed, and then let his head rest on her shoulder and his face in her
neck, as he had used to very occasionally in childhood,
when he had been unwell and she had had time to notice it.


I've upset Edward,' she said eventually. 'We take him
too much for granted, you know.'


I know,' James said, his voice muffled. 'Oh Mother,
I'm
sorry. I don't know what to do with myself. I don't know
how to get through the days. They seem
s
o long, and they
lead nowhere — only to another day as empty and as point
less. I don't know what to live for.'


There's Fanny,' she said, but she already knew the
answer to that.

‘Yes. I love her dearly, but —'


I know. I love my children, but they can't take the place of Allen,' she said. James sat up, and took her hand into his
lap and chafed it.


You understand,' he said. 'That's what I meant about
Edward — he's never lost the one he loves.'


My darling, God sends each of us our own challenge and
our own pain. We can't judge what it is to be someone else.
Edward has his own suffering to endure.’

James shook that away as irrelevant. 'But Mother, what
am Ito
do?'
he asked hopelessly.


What I do,' she said abruptly. 'Wait, and trust. The
pattern will become clear one day.'

‘I wish I could believe that.'

‘You must. What else can make sense of life? Talk to Father Thomas about it.’

He gave her back her hand and turned his head away. ‘Leave me alone Mother, will you, please? I just want to
think.’

Jemima left him, knowing there was nothing more she
could say that he would listen to. At the door to the chapel
she looked back, and saw him put his dark head into his
hands. Thinking was what everyone wanted him to do, she
thought. If only they could be sure he would come to the
right conclusions.

 

Chapter Nine
 

 
In July Lucy and Chetwyn arrived at Morland Place, with
Hippolyta and Flaminia and such a retinue of nursery-maids
that Lucy said the children had better stay at Shawes. 'For
we don't want to eat you out of house and home, Mother.'

‘Nonsense,' said Jemima. ‘Do you think I am penurious?'


I must own, Lady Aylesbury, that the number of nurses
does seem excessive. Fanny's may very well look after your two girls as well, you know,' Mrs James said smoothly. 'We
have excellent nursery staff at Morland Place.’

Lucy noted her mother's quickly-concealed frown of
annoyance at Mrs James's assumption of her role, and, tact
not being her longest suit, she said, 'Well, so have they at
Shawes, for the matter of that. It matters not a bit to me
where they stay, so long as someone stops them swallowing
beads or putting their fingers into the fire.'


Then do let us take care of them,' Mrs James said
graciously. 'It will be so good for Fanny to have company.’

Jemima, seeing that Lucy was about to retort, intervened
with a change of subject which was bound to deflect her. ‘So
Mary and Captain Haworth have sailed at last?'


Yes, and
Africa's
to join the squadron blockading Brest.
She's a capital ship, Mother, the completest thing you ever
saw.'

‘Did you see them off?'


Oh yes, I wouldn't have missed it for the world. Even
Chetwyn said he was sorry not to have gone, but he was
wanted at Wolvercote, and couldn't get out of it. I went
down to Portsmouth with them, and Haworth chewed me
over every inch of her before they sailed. I dare say
Haworth was hoping for a cruise to the West Indies, but he
might have known better. Weston says the threat of invasion
isn't over, and that the Directory is assembling an army in
northern France for an attempt next spring. Of course, they
cannot succeed while we hold the seas, but it means every
ship available must be kept on the blockade. Poor Haworth
looked as though he didn't like it above half! Blockade is so tedious; but Weston says he may still hope for a single-ship
action to make his fortune.'


I dare say Captain Haworth did not want Mary to be
exposed to the autumn gales and the navigational hazards,'
Jemima suggested, and Lucy shrugged.


Well, it's her choice, and I couldn't be more surprised at it. I never thought Polly had such spirit. But have you heard
that Admiral Nelson's in a scrape? Weston says the First
Sea-Lord's in a rare taking about it. He gave him his flag
after Cape St Vincent because he was banking on him to do
something to keep the newspapers happy and draw the
Opposition's teeth. Only Nelson made a mess of things at
Tenerife, and half his men got killed and he had to
surrender, and lost his arm into the bargain.'

‘Good heavens! The poor man!'

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