The Reckoning (88 page)

‘
I don't mind in the least. It makes no difference to me
where I live. No, really, I mean it. If I had one house, a small
house, like yours, of course it would matter. But when you
move from one great mansion with fifty bedrooms to another,
they all seem very much alike.’

Sophie was not convinced. 'You love Wolvercote,' she
pointed out.

‘
Yes, I suppose I do — but that's just sentiment, because I
grew up there. Really, you mustn't worry about me on that
score. I'm sure I shall like whatever Marcus chooses.’

She spoke so firmly that Sophie felt obliged to leave the
subject, and took her instead to see the Chinese bedroom.
When they had looked over the house, they returned to the
morning-room, and the new butler, Wells, brought them a
nuncheon. Sophie watched the cold meats, fruit and cake
being laid out on the round table with anxious eyes, hoping
that it would seem elegant and varied enough to Rosamund's sophisticated palate.

Rosamund's appetite, it seemed, had not changed along
with everything else. She ate with a will, and praised what she
ate.

‘
Tell me the London news,' Sophie begged. 'I want lots of
details to pass on to my new friends, so they can see how
sophisticated I am!’

Rosamund laughed. 'Well, now, what can I tell you?' she
said obligingly. 'Mrs Fitzherbert's in a froth because George Dawson wants to marry little Minney Seymour – you know,
her ward?'

‘Yes, I remember.'

‘
She's so determined he shan't – though he's a perfectly respectable young man: he was wounded at Waterloo, and
Marcus says he had two horses killed under him. But Maria
Fitzherbert thinks he won't do, so she's begged the Duke of
York to have poor Dawson posted to the West Indies, where
she hopes a fever will carry him off. And meanwhile she's
carried Minney off to Paris to keep her out of the way.
They're living in Alvanley's apartment there. Of course,
Alvanley's as soft as butter, and he's promised Dawson to try and make it all right, both with the Duke and the Fitzherbert.
He'll have his work cut out! No-one ever changed our Maria's
mind about anything.’

Did Lord Alvanley have any news of Mr Brummell?'

‘
Oh yes, he always stops in to see him as he passes through
Calais. But did I not tell you in one of my letters that we saw
Mr Brummell ourselves, in December?'

‘Good heavens! No, you didn't.'

‘
He came over to London for a few days. It was all very
dangerous, of course, for had he been recognised, he would have been taken up – and far from being able to pay off his
English debts, he's now running up fresh ones in France, poor
man! He was terribly disappointed that Mama was still
abroad, but I let him have the run of her house in Upper
Grosvenor Street – of course the servants there are absolutely
to be trusted. I had to keep it from Marcus, though, for he
can't keep any secrets from his mother, and she'd have had
Mr Brummell arrested without a second thought –'

‘Oh, surely not? He's never done her any harm.'

‘
You don't know her! But anyway, it all passed off very
well, and he got safe away again. Poor man, he's changed so
much! He's grown so thin, and so melancholy, though he
tried to hide it, and chatted amusingly in his old way. But I
suppose he couldn't be completely at ease, afraid of being
arrested at any minute.'

‘What did he come for, if it was so dangerous?'

‘
He said it was to buy snuff – you know how he is – but
actually, I think it was to consult his attorney about his busi
ness affairs, in the hope that something might be done to
clear his debts. However, I suppose the answer was no, since
he went back, and we haven't heard any more.' She paused
for a moment, and then went on with a smile, 'He complained
very much about the gas-lamps along Pall Mall and around
St James's. Very inconvenient, he said, for a gentleman
incog.
It's lucky he didn't go out in the daytime, or he might have caught sight of the Prince Regent. Since Prinny left off his
stays, he can't get up on a horse any more, so he's taken to
riding about in a gig, like a common cad. The sight might well
have thrown Mr Brummel into a fit!'

‘Oh Ros! Ought you to speak so about the Regent?'

‘
My dear Sophie, I'm very much kinder to him than most
people! He's always been good to me, so I have a sort of affec
tion for him; but he is behaving very badly over the Duke of
Kent's daughter, who, after all, is a legitimate offspring, born to a perfectly respectable princess. You know the baby's three
months old now, and he hasn't even announced her birth to
the other European rulers as he ought?'

‘
It's such a pity the Clarences' baby died,' Sophie said. 'It
would have pleased everyone if she'd lived. Everyone seems to
like the Duke of Clarence.'

‘
Well there's every probability they'll have another – after
all, the Duchess is only twenty-six, and the Duke has proved
himself amply with Mrs Jordan.' Sophie blinked a little at Rosamund's directness. Rosamund went on, ‘So all in all,
there's little chance the Kent baby will succeed to the throne,
but the Prince hates the Duke of Kent so much that I think
he'd sooner strangle the little mite than acknowledge it. He
wouldn't even let it have a proper State christening, you know
– which annoyed Lady Barbara no end, for she was bound to
have been invited to a public ceremony, and she loves
anything of that sort.'

‘So you didn't go either?'

‘
No-one did. On the Prince's orders it was a private
ceremony at Kensington Palace. However Alvanley told me
about it – he got it out of the Duke of York. Apparently, Kent
wanted to call the baby
Victoire –
after its mother –
Georgina, Alexandrina – after
the Tsar, who was godfather
–
Charlotte, Augusta.
But apparently, right at the last minute,
when Canterbury had the little brute actually dangling over
the font, the Prince suddenly announced that they couldn't
use the names Georgina, Charlotte or Augusta – all royal
names, you see.'

‘
Oh dear, how very embarrassing!'

‘
Just so. There was a long silence. Kent went scarlet with
fury, and apparently the Duchess was almost in tears. Then
Canterbury asked the Prince terribly politely what they
might
call
it, and the Prince said "Alexandrina". Well, of course just
one name wouldn't do for Kent, so he asked the Prince if they
could have Elizabeth as well. The Prince snapped "Certainly
not!" – we had a queen regnant called Elizabeth, after all –
and then he added that they could call it after its mother, but
that the name couldn't precede the Tsar's name. So it ended
up as Alexandrina Victoria; and the sooner the Clarences
have another brat and put poor Prinny out of his misery, the
better.'

‘
You tell it all so well,' Sophie sighed with satisfaction. 'I shall never be able to make it sound so diverting when I pass
it on. Tell me more.’

Rosamund looked at her with amusement. 'I can't think of
any more. Except that your Sir Robert Peel got his factory
regulation act through Parliament at last, but I dare say
you'll know more about that than I do. Is Jasper pleased
about it?'

‘
Well, in some ways: he says it's a beginning. But they were
all disappointed that it had so many modifications before it
went through. The minimum age for children to be allowed to work in factories was put down to nine instead of ten; and the
hours for children of nine to sixteen were only reduced to
twelve a day instead of ten – which hardly makes any differ
ence at all, for they work thirteen or fourteen hours now.'

‘
You're lucky to have got it through at all. There's a great
deal of feeling in the clubs that the whole principle of trying
to restrict free labour is wrong.’

Sophie sighed. 'Yes, I know; and when I hear the oppo
nents arguing, what they say sounds so sensible! But then
when I hear our side, that sounds sensible too. I really don't
know what to think. However, Mr Farraline says the Act
won't make any difference in the short term, because there
was no provision made for inspectors to see that the rules are
put into force, so in reality factory owners may go on doing just as they like. He says the only effect will be in the long
term, as a bad precedent.'

‘
Do you see much of Mr Farraline?' Rosamund asked
lightly.

‘
Not really, not now I'm married. It's only if I go to one of the meetings with Jasper. Mr Farraline's always there. I can't
think why, since he disagrees with everything so entirely. I think he must do it to torment – he does have a very strange
sense of humour, and says the oddest things, so that one never
knows if he's serious or not. He's never anything but kind to
me, however, and friendly to Jasper. When I think how we
met him and Mr Hawker at Scarborough, I little thought how
it would all turn out.' She looked at Rosamund as a thought
struck her. 'He went to London in May, now I come to think
of it – during that heat-wave, which we thought very odd of
him. Did you happen to see anything of him?’

No, I didn't
happen
to,' Rosamund said with a strange
little smile. ‘So tell me, dear Sophie, has it answered for you,
being married? Are you happy? Does your Jasper make you
happy?’

Sophie's face lit. 'Oh yes! Oh, so much, Ros! I never knew I
could be so happy.'

‘
Didn't I tell you that you would marry for love? And I
remember your telling me that you could never marry anyone
but Major Larosse.'

‘
Yes, I did say so – and I believed it,' Sophie said. 'And in a
strange way, I don't think I could have loved Jasper if it
hadn't been for René. But he was a very different person.
There was a sadness about him, even when he was happy – a
part of him I couldn't reach. It isn't like that with Jasper. I
think I am much happier with him than I could ever have
been with René, even though part of me doesn't like to admit it.'

‘
And does Jasper love you as much as René did?'

‘
That's a strange question. I don't really know how much
René loved me. I never had a chance to find out. But, oh Ros,
Jasper loves me so much it frightens me sometimes! To be so
adored – to be the object of such passion ...’

Rosamund tried to imagine Jasper Hobsbawn in the throes
of passion, and failed. It just shewed, she thought, how
limited was the human imagination; and how love could come
in the strangest of guises.

Sophie was evidently building up to some personal revela
tion. Rosamund felt she could almost have dispensed with it, for the realisation that everything in Sophie's life was falling
pleasantly into place, only emphasised that her own life had
gone wrong, and that she didn't in the least know how to correct it. And yet she loved Sophie, and would not have
turned away her confidence. Also, she thought wryly, there is
always in women a deep-seated desire to know how other
women's lives go on.