The Reckoning (87 page)

‘He's dull,' James complained weakly. 'And plain.'

‘
No, I don't think so. I think he's only poor, and we can
change that — we can make him not poor.'

‘What do you mean? Give him money?'

‘
No, better than that.' She sat down beside him and took
his hands. 'You know I have often worried about the unfair
ness of old Mr Hobsbawn's will? Well, Sophie will have a little
money of her own from me anyway, but if she really wants to
marry Jasper Hobsbawn, why should we not give her the mills
as a wedding-present?'

‘Give her the mills?'

‘
Yes, don't you see, it would be the answer to many things.
You know Mr Hobsbawn will always care for them, and
manage them well and faithfully, but this way they become
his when he marries her, which is right and good. Oh, we can
have the settlement drawn up any way you like, to protect her interests, and ours. But it will give her security and a place in
society — and if we give them Hobsbawn House as well, she
will have a fine home, too.'

‘A fine home — on the other side of the Pennines!’

Héloïse shrugged. 'She would always have moved away,
whoever she married. You could not wish to keep her at home
all her life.’

He sighed. 'Why couldn't she marry some nice local boy,
like Mathilde, and live close by?'

‘
Because she doesn't love some nice local boy,' Héloïse said.
‘Come, now, James, what do you say? Is it not a good idea?’

‘
The mills are yours to do with as you wish,' he said sulkily.

‘
And Hobsbawn House too, if it comes to that.'

‘
Well, but the permission to marry is yours to give,
mon
âme.
Why don't you have Sophie in and ask her? Perhaps she will be able to convince you that she has chosen a good man,
who can make her happy.'

‘
I dare say she'll be able to wheedle me, as you do.' He
smiled reluctantly, and drew her onto his lap. 'You like him,
don't you, Marmoset?'

‘Yes, I like him.'

‘Enough to understand why she wants to marry him?'

‘
He would not have been my choice, for me or for her. But
yes, I can see that he is a person one could love.’

James held her close, pressing his mouth against her hair
and rocking her a little as he mused. Then he sighed.

‘
Very well, I'll let her persuade me. Shall we have her in,
my love, to tell us all about his manifold perfections? And
then if it's as you think, we might as well have him in, and get
it over with.'
 
got up and went to ring the bell. James
watched her cross the room with absent eyes. ‘Hobsbawn!' he
said, but without great heat. 'To think a daughter of mine
should end up a Hobsbawn!’

 
The travelling-chaise that pulled up before the steps of Hobs
bawn House was new, dashing of design, and drawn by four
horses, but the coat-of-arms painted on the panel was almost
completely obscured by thick white dust. July 1819 was a hot
month, following a dry spring, and the roads were fast, but
very dusty.

The footman from the house hadn't even got as far as
opening the chaise door when the lady of the house appeared
on the steps behind him, her hands clasped excitedly at her
breast and her face alight with eagerness. Only the awareness
of her new dignity as a matron stopped her running down the steps and enveloping her cousin in a bear-hug as soon as she
got out.

‘
Oh Rosamund! I'm so glad to see you!' Sophie cried. 'Oh
do,
do
come in! How was your journey? Are you very tired?'

‘
Not the least bit in the world,' Rosamund said, shaking
out the folds of her travelling-gown, and standing where she
was to look up at Sophie. An irresistible smile spread over her
face at the sight of that familiar small, thin figure —
unchanged in any way, it seemed to her, except for the absurd
lace-trimmed cap which now adorned the dark curls, and the
attempt at dignity which was restraining her movements. To
Rosamund, Sophie looked like a child playing at being grown
up. But she was glad to see that Sophie also looked happy.
There was an air of quiet content about her, as well as her
present excitement.

To Sophie, Rosamund seemed very different. The romp of a débutante she had known in London and Brussels, who had
become the smart but high-spirited girl of Scarborough, was
now a cool and elegant young woman. Everything about her
appearance spoke of wealth and high fashion. Sophie drank in
every detail of the cambric carriage-dress — the hem was
wider than any she had seen in Manchester, and there were
three rows of ribbon trimming, not two. And that darling blue
silk spencer, with puffed sleeves over long sleeves, and piped
seams! Sophie had heard of piped seams, but hadn't seen any
yet. And the high-crowned bonnet — Rosamund managed it so well, getting out of the carriage! And the marabou tippet
and muff — marabou was wildly expensive, Sophie knew, and so impractical in its fragility that only an exceedingly leisured
woman could afford to wear it.

More than just the clothes, Rosamund's whole air spoke of
sophistication: the assurance of her manner, the way she was obviously perfectly at ease with her appearance, taking it for
granted in a way that the lesser belles of Manchester never
did. Why, if Miss Ardwick or any of the Audenshaw girls had
had a marabou muff like that, they would have found some way of flourishing it to draw attention to it; but Rosamund
was holding it carelessly in one hand down at her side, and as
Moss came round from the other side of the carriage, she
handed it to her without even looking at it.

And more than either her clothes or her manner, the evid
ence of the change in her was in her face. She looked more beautiful than before, in a cool, sculpted way: as a girl she
had not been pretty, but as a woman she was handsome. Her
expression was composed; her eyes curiously veiled, as though
she were used to concealing her emotions; her mouth was a
firm line, not precisely unhappy, but not relaxed. Sophie's
pleasure in seeing her faltered as she watched Rosamund give
directions to the footman about her luggage and the chaise,
and handed him her purse to pay off the post-boys. Every
thing about Rosamund was elegant, composed, authoritative
— and unapproachable. What had happened in the years since Scarborough to bring about this change?
But now Rosamund was coming up the steps at last, she
was putting her gloved hands into Sophie's (such gloves! —
pale blue suede with jet buttons — Agnes would die for them!)
and she was smiling, a warm smile that lighted her eyes
almost in the old way.

‘
And now that's done, my dear Sophie, and I have all my
attention for you. Let me look at you. Oh, what a little
matron you've become!' She laughed, stretching Sophie's
hands out and looking her up and down. 'You look so very
married! Tell me at once, are you happy?'

‘
Oh yes,' Sophie said. ‘So very, very happy. I couldn't have
believed this time last year that my life would have changed
so much.’

Rosamund drew Sophie's hand through her arm and they walked indoors together. 'I'm sorry I couldn't come to your
wedding, love.'

‘
Well, it was rather short notice,' Sophie agreed. 'But there
didn't seem anything to wait for, once Maman and Papa had
agreed, and the settlements had been drawn up.'

‘
I should think not, indeed. Anyway, it's better this way —
we shall have much longer together. It must have been the
prettiest ceremony, though. Much nicer in the chapel at
Morland Place, I should think, than mine in Westminster
Abbey. And you wore your mother's lace, that she wore for
her wedding?'

‘
Yes. Fanny had it too, for her wedding. Poor Fanny! But
I'm sure she and Mr Hawker really did love each other, just
as Jasper and I do. I thought of Mr Hawker on the day, and of
Mr —'

‘
Where is Jasper?' Rosamund interrupted, as Moss took her
gloves and bonnet from her.

‘
Oh, he was so sorry he couldn't be here to meet you,'
Sophie said, 'but he had to go to the mill — there was some
trouble there with a machine running hot.'

‘
He still insists on doing everything himself, does he?' Rosa
mund said, seeming amused. 'You haven't trained him
properly, Sophie. He's the master now, not the manager.’

Sophie blushed and looked away. 'He only supervises
things. He just likes to make sure everything's done right.’

Rosamund linked arms with her again. 'I didn't mean to
criticise. I was only teasing you. Come, shew me your
wonderful new house. I've never been here before. Is it very magnificent?’

Sophie smiled a little uneasily. 'I don't know whether you'll
think so. Maman thinks it's very funny — all the elephants
and mandarins and sphinxes make her laugh — but I've grown
so fond of them. I don't want to change anything.'

‘
Why should you? I should dearly like a house I could laugh
at,' Rosamund said. Her tone was amused, but her mouth was
hard. 'Oh, look at the little bells on that looking-glass! Is it all
like that? Dear Sophie, you mustn't change a thing! Come,
shew me everything at once, especially the elephants. I die for
the elephants!'

‘
We'll start upstairs, then,' Sophie said, yielding to her
cousin's charm. 'Oh Rosamund, I'm glad you're here! What a
pity Marcus couldn't come, though. You will miss him. I
should hate to be away from Jasper for so long.'

‘
Don't think of it,' Rosamund said lightly. 'It's different for
people like us. My lord and lady don't live in each other's
pockets the way you and Jasper do — and a good thing too, for
it wouldn't suit me at all. I need a long rein and light hands,
love, and I've never been broken to harness.'

‘
Is he still in London?' Sophie asked. She found it hard to
visualise what their lives must be like.

‘
In July? In this heat? No, he's travelling round the
country, looking for an estate to buy. When Mother comes home
next year, we won't be able to use Wolvercote as we do now.'

‘
But — shouldn't you be with him?'

‘
His mother is with him,' Rosamund said grimly. 'He can't
have both of us at the same time.'

‘
Oh Ros!' Sophie's eyes brimmed with sympathy. 'But
surely he can't choose a country seat without your seeing it
too?'