The Emperor (71 page)

Roberta looked down at her husband's flushed, uncon
scious face. 'Whatever you think best,' she said, and then
her lip trembled, and she caught it between her teeth and
drew a shaky breath. Lucy put a tentative hand on her arm,
little used to offering physical comfort to human beings, but Roberta seemed to take strength from it. 'Will you stay here with me?' she asked in a steadier voice. 'I feel so much safer
with you here.'

‘
Of course I will,' Lucy said. 'I won't leave you. Docwra
and I will stay until he's well again.’

*

Charles's fever did not go down. In the afternoon, Sir
Arthur called again, shook his head, and decreed that he
should be bled. He took two ounces of blood from his left
foot, trickled a little brandy into Charles's mouth, pro
nounced himself satisfied for the moment, and promised to
call again later that day.

‘
We can only wait for the crisis, dear Lady Chelmsford.
But his lordship has led a regular life, and there is every
hope of a happy outcome,' he said magnificently. He took
out his snuff-box, applied a pinch to his right nostril, put the
box away again, dusted his nose and hands with his
handkerchief, bowed profoundly to Roberta, and took
himself off.

Lucy had hidden herself, at Roberta's request, in the
dressing-room while Sir Arthur was there, for Roberta was afraid that he would refuse to treat Charles if Lucy argued with him, which she was very likely to. Now she came out
and resumed her vigil at the bedside. Bleeding seemed to
have produced some relief, but the effect was only temporary. Soon the fever was mounting again, and higher than before.

‘He's burning up like a piece of paper,' Roberta said, and Lucy met Docwra's eye across the bed and read the message in them.

‘I think perhaps you should send for the priest,' she said gently.

Three hours later Charles's breathing stopped. The
silence in the room was dreadful. Roberta stared for a
moment blankly at his face, and then lifted the hand she
held to her lips, and kissed it, and laid it against her cheek, before replacing it gently on the counterpane.

Lucy went through the motions of feeling for his pulse.
She felt hollow inside, and aching, for though it was several hours since she had expected him to recover, still the fact of his death was a different matter, something for which she could not have prepared herself. Kind Charles, everybody's friend, always there, always understanding, always ready to help; what would life be like without him to depend on?

‘
It was the damp air that did the damage, you know?'
said Roberta. Her face was white and exhausted, and she spoke with an unnatural calm. 'He used to say he had a southern constitution. Being born in Italy, he ought to have lived in a hot climate.'

‘Was he?' Lucy asked in surprise.

‘
Oh yes. His father served in the court of James III in
Rome until he came into the title; then he came back to
England. Charles was only a child, but he always loved Italy.
He went there on his Grand Tour. When Bobbie's older,
and the war is over, he shall go to Italy too. It's what Charles
wanted.’

She was talking almost at random, her shadowed eyes
blank in her white, strained face. Lucy got up and went
around the bed to her, and urged her to her feet.

‘Come,' she said, 'you must rest now. You're worn out.'

‘Yes,' Roberta said automatically. 'He didn't want to live,
you know. Well, now he's with Flora, and I'm happy for
him. He always loved her best. After she died, he was never the same.'

‘Oh, no, you mustn't say that. He loved you. Anyone could see that,' Lucy said firmly.

‘
Yes, he loved me, in his way. We had a happy life
together. But he was only marking time, until he could be
with her again.'

‘
Come, you need to rest. Let me take you to your room.
I'll make you up a draught, and then you'll sleep,' Lucy said, putting an arm around her.

Roberta resisted. 'He shouldn't be left alone.'

‘Docwra will sit with him. She knows what's necessary.’

Roberta allowed Lucy to draw her out of the room
and along the corridor to her own chamber. 'Will you
stay with me, Lucy? Until I'm asleep? I feel better with
you near me.'

‘Yes, of course I'll stay,' Lucy said. 'I'll still be here when you wake up, I won't leave you.'

‘
Will you do something else for me?' she asked a while later, when Lucy was helping her take off her gown. 'Will
you have Bobbie to stay with your children at Wolvercote?
He likes Miss Trotton. He'd be safe there.'

‘Of course. Parslow can take him and his nurse down
tomorrow, if you like. It's probably better for him to be out
of the way for the next few days.'

‘
Yes,' Roberta said, turning to face Lucy, 'and I don't
want Lady Barbara to offer to have him.’

Lucy hesitated over a reply, not knowing quite what
Roberta meant. 'Well, I suppose she is rather strict with her children, but -'

‘It isn't that,' Roberta blurted out. 'Don't you realize that
Bobbie is all that stands between Horatio and the title? Oh,
I wish Charles could have waited, at least until Bobbie was older. My poor little boy! What's to become of us now?’

Lucy stared at her, shocked. 'You surely don't mean that
you think - ? Oh no, really, it's too much! I confess I don't
like Lady Barbara, but you can't think she would harm your son?'

‘
She and Horatio both, they want the title for Marcus.
They always have. They'd stop at nothing to get it.'

‘But you're talking about murder! This is the eighteenth century, things like that don't happen any more - not in England, anyway. You're upset, you don't know what
you're saying. When you've rested, you'll see things in a
different light.’

But Roberta clutched her arm so hard that it hurt.
'Promise me you'll send Bobbie to Wolvercote! Promise me
you won't let them take him away!'

‘
Yes, of course, I promise,' Lucy soothed her. 'Now lie
down and rest, and I'll bring you up a draught. And as soon
as everything has been done here, you and I will go down to
Wolvercote, and join the children for a few weeks. We'll
ride and walk, and Danby has promised to teach me how to
shoot, in case we meet any more footpads. We'll have a
lovely time, away from prying eyes, and you'll feel well and
strong again.’

*

There was so much to be done. Charles's agent, Athersuch, took over much of the burden, and with the secretary dealt
with such things as notices for the newspapers, writing to
relatives, answering formal letters of condolence, and
arranging the funeral; but there were still domestic matters to arrange, and Roberta was quite prostrated and unable to deal with anything. She did not cry, only lay motionless in bed as if she had been flattened against the pillows, hardly speaking, eating obediently when Docwra or her own maid
fed her with a spoon, but making no voluntary movement at
all.

So Lucy took command, ordered the blinds drawn, the
liveried servants into their mourning, the others into
weepers; had the door knocker wreathed in black crape;
received the callers on Roberta's behalf and gave them
burnt wine and biscuits.

True to her promise, she sent little Robert St Vincent,
now seventh Earl of Chelmsford at the age of three and too
bewildered to cry, off to Wolvercote on the morning after
Charles's death, in the Chelmsford chariot. He clung tightly
to Nursey's hand, and looked from face to face with round eyes, and was little consoled to know he was going to stay
with his cousins, for he was too young properly to remember
them. However, he knew and liked Parslow, and was grati
fied at all the consequence of having not only Parslow and
Nursey to attend him inside the chariot, but a footman and
two postillions outside,
and
two outriders.

The latter were Docwra's thought. Lucy had not been
inclined to accord so much consequence to such a little boy,
but Docwra had said, 'You can't be too careful, m'lady, not
with someone else's child. You know how many ugly
customers there are hangin' about the post-roads these days,
and how'd you ever face Lady Chelmsford if anything was to
happen to his little lordship?’

Lucy concurred, though not entirely convinced, and even
let Parslow take the two enormous horse-pistols which he was wont to carry when he accompanied his mistress on a
long journey. She was a little shaken when, only an hour
after the chariot departed, Lady Barbara arrived in heavy
mourning to pay her condolences, and offered to take
Bobbie back to Park Lane with her.

Tor I'm sure you won't want the trouble of a child with
everything else you have to do. He won't be any bother to
me, I assure you! It cannot signify to nurse whether she has
two children or three to take care of, and dear Marcus and
dearest Barbarina will like above all things to have the little
earl to stay.'

‘
Most grateful to you, ma'am, but the matter's already
arranged,' Lucy said, blinking. 'The child is gone to Wolver
cote this hour past.' An expression of fury crossed Lady
Barbara's face fleetingly. 'Roberta wished it so,' Lucy added
hastily.

‘
Well, then, I'm sure it's for the best,' Lady Barbara said
with an effort.

‘
I shall tell Roberta of your kind offer, however,' Lucy
said blandly. 'I am sure she will know just how to value it.’

*

The funeral was carried out with all the melancholy splen
dour of black-draped carriages, plumed horses, muffled
drums, and a torchlit procession of servants and depen
dants. The standard over the pediment of Chelmsford
House hung at half-mast, and the coffin itself was draped in
a heavy cloth with a bullion fringe, embroidered with the
Chelmsford arms, which had originally been made for the funeral of Annunciata's son Charles, the second earl.

It was extremely well attended, for Charles had made
friends everywhere, amongst peers and ministers, in naval
circles largely through Flora, and latterly in army circles too.
The Prince of Wales, and the Dukes of York and Clarence
attended, representing the King; there was a large contin
gent from the world of fashion, and one as large from
amongst the merchants, bankers, and other gentlemen of
enterprise from the City.

The Chelmsford estate comprised no land other than the
demesne of Shawes and Chelmsford House itself, but partly
owing to the undertakings of Charles's father, who had
married the daughter of a rich banker, it had fingers in a
great many financial pies, including shipping, banking, and
maritime insurance. The seventh earl was starting life a very
wealthy young man, and Roberta's widow's portion was
extremely generous.

Lucy had time to think about Charles a great deal during
the weeks following his death, and though she had no doubt
that he had loved Roberta sincerely, she could not help
coming to conclusion that he had married her after Flora's
death largely to get an heir, and thus keep Horatio out of
the succession. It seemed a little hard on Horatio, who had
for so many years quite reasonably expected to come into
the title eventually. Because of his expectations he had
developed expensive tastes, while Roberta had been brought
up to thrift and had tastes both modest and simple. While
she was glad for Roberta's sake that she had been raised
from her unmerited poverty, she did discover in herself an
unwilling sympathy for Horatio.

*

Weston's guess about Buonaparte proved correct: his next
move was a bold one. He led an army over the Alps in May,
through the St Bernard pass, and coming down on northern Italy like a wolf on the fold, took the Austrians completely
by surprise. By the second of June he had occupied Milan, and on the fourteenth he defeated the Austrian army in the
battle of Marengo. On the following day the Austrian army
of occupation signed an armistice. Whatever credit Buona
parte may have lost in Egypt, he regained in the Italian
campaign.