The Regency (28 page)

‘
The thing is,' Mathilde went on, her eyes still on the
horses, 'that quite apart from not being in love with John, I
don't really want to get married at all — not yet, I mean. I
love the balls and the parties and the picnics: it's all such fun. And I love it so much here at Morland Place, just as if it were
my real home.'

‘It is your home,' Edward said, stirring the feed in the
bucket. The lead mare heard the dry rustle of the silky oats
through his fingers, and quickened her pace.

‘
Oh, yes, I know, but I mean as if it had always been my
home. I feel as if I belonged here; and I should like so much
just to go on as I am.'

‘
But eventually,' Edward said cautiously, 'eventually you
will want to marry?'

‘
I suppose so,' Mathilde sighed. ‘If only there were a way
to be married and not to have to leave Morland Place! But
perhaps I could learn to be useful to you and Mr James with
the horses, and then I could earn my keep, and not have to
get married at all?’

Edward smiled. 'Do you know, you sounded just like my
sister Lucy then! But if you really want to be useful, you can
hold this mare for me while I examine her.'

‘
Of course, gladly,' Mathilde said, preparing to climb the
rail, ready to sacrifice both gown and sandals in a good cause.

‘
No need for that: you can hold her through the rails. I
shouldn't like you to get dirty.' He climbed into the paddock
and caught the first mare by the forelock and slipped on the
halter, and passing the rope's end to Mathilde, he added,
‘You are doing just as you ought, my dear. Enjoy the dancing
and the parties. Enjoy being young. It passes all too soon.’

*

When James returned from Shawes, the crisis had passed, but the sensation of it was still in the house. Kithra came running
to him as soon as he arrived, and pressed his muzzle anxiously
into his palm. Fanny reached him next, big-eyed with the
news that Madame had been taken ill and the physician had
been sent for. James was too shocked at the news to hear the
glee in her voice, and since he left her instantly to run up the
stairs as fast as he could, she had no opportunity further to
expose herself.

In the great bedchamber all was peaceful, and Lucy met
him as he burst in at the door to clap a hand over his mouth
and hiss, 'Don't wake her! She's sleeping, and everything's all
right now, but she mustn't be disturbed or upset, do you
understand?’

James gripped her wrist and firmly removed her hand from
his mouth. In the background, Docwra was folding fresh linen
strips, while Marie sat by the bedside gently fanning Héloïse.

She was lying with her feet propped up and her eyes closed.
She looked pale, and there were shadows under her eyes.

‘
Tell me what happened. Did the physician come? What
did he say?'

‘
He came and went away again,' Lucy said. 'He was no use
to anyone. All he wanted to do was to bleed her — as if she
hadn't already lost enough! — and burn pastilles in the room
to choke her, the old imbecile! I sent him packing. It's all
right, Jamie, don't look so blue. She's all right now, but she'll
have to be more careful from now on.'

‘For God's sake, Lucy,
tell me what happened!'

‘
She had a haemorrhage, not long after you'd left.'

‘
A haem — bleeding? Oh God, you mean — the child?’

‘
Hush! Don't make a noise. She hasn't lost the child,' Lucy said, 'and there's a chance she'll carry it to term, if she's care
ful.’

James buried his face in his hands and groaned. ‘If any
thing happens to her, I'll never forgive myself.’

Lucy looked at him with understanding, though without
sympathy. 'There's no need for you to make a fuss. She isn't
going to die. She's very strong, you know, for all that she
looks so small and thin. She may lose this baby, but you can
always have another, can't you? For goodness sake, Jamie,
pull yourself together, and think of her for a change. She
mustn't be upset. It's up to you to keep her calm and happy,
and make sure she rests properly, and doesn't exert herself.'

‘
James?' came Héloïse's voice. James gave Lucy a meaning
ful look and went past her to the bed, flung himself down
beside it, and took Héloïse's hand in a crushing grip.

‘Oh my love, I'm sorry I wasn't here.'

‘
There was nothing you could have done,' she said. 'I'm all
right now, only sleepy. But I didn't want to go to sleep until
you came back. I knew you'd fret if I didn't tell you myself
that I was all right.'

‘Have they given you a draught?’

No; only rather a lot of wine. I think I am a little drunk,
James,' she smiled. Her eyelids were drooping. 'Lucy says we
haven't lost the baby.’

No, darling, it's all right.'

‘
I'm so glad. I didn't want to let you down,' she murmured
drowsily.

‘
You could never do that, Marmoset. Don't worry about
anything. Just sleep.'

‘So glad Lucy was here. Thank her, James.'

‘Yes, I will.’

James waited until her breathing was deep and regular,
and then got up quietly and went back to where Lucy was
standing near the door watching them. She met his eyes, and
he gave a crooked smile. 'Thank you, Lucy. I'm glad you were
here, too. I'm very grateful to you.'

‘
Don't be silly. All I did was apply common sense, and keep
that fool of a doctor from her,' Lucy said briskly. 'But, look
here, Jamie, if anything like this happens again, you've got to
know what to do. I'll write you some notes.'

‘Me?'

‘
Well, notes for Marie, if you like — but someone will have
to supervise her or she'll just cluck and run about like a hen.’

‘
All right, I'll see to it. Anything else?'

‘
I hope not, not if Héloïse uses some common sense. But I
think perhaps I had better try to be on hand when her time
comes, just in case.'

‘
Would you really do that? I know she'd feel much happier
about it.'

‘
That's all right. I've brought enough foals into the world
to know what's what; and I've read all of Smellie's works,
which is more than can be said for that fool of a doctor!’

*

Thomas didn't seem to understand that he was going away
with the other children for good. Héloïse, still confined to bed,
explained it to him as clearly as she could and he nodded
solemnly and seemed to accept it; and he watched Jenny pack
his box without comment; but when the Aylesbury children
assembled in the day-nursery to put on their coats and go
down to the waiting carriage, Thomas stood with Sophie and
watched as if it were nothing to do with him.

‘
Come, Thomas, put on your coat now,' Jenny said, and he
looked bewildered, though he obeyed from old habit. But
when Miss Trotton took his hand and began to lead him
away, he suddenly grew frightened and pulled back, looking
towards Sophie questioningly. Miss Rosedale reached for
Sophie's hand, and as Thomas was led away and she stayed
where she was, he suddenly understood that they were
parting, and began to cry. He was too well-behaved to struggle
or resist, but he looked back over his shoulder all the way, his
mouth shapeless with grief.

When he was gone, Sophie, who had tried to contain her
self for his sake, broke at last, and flung herself against Miss
Rosedale's comfortable brown cambric front and sobbed. Her
life had suddenly been turned upside down. Her mother
stayed in bed, and though everyone kept saying she was all
right, she looked pale and tired and worried, and Sophie knew
all was not as it should be; and now Thomas had been taken
away from her, and who would button his buttons and tell
him bedtime stories? Who would know that he liked all the fat
cut off his mutton, or that he had to have his left shoe put on
before his right? Who would make it all right for him when he
was afraid of the dark, and sing him the French song about
the rabbits and the fox to make him laugh?

‘
There, my poor little dear,' Miss Rosedale said, stroking
Sophie's dark head, while her tears soaked through to Miss
Rosedale's stomach. 'I know it's hard, but things usually
happen for the best. Remember, he will have every advantage
where he's going, and grow up to be a gentleman.'

‘
But he won't have me,' Sophie said unanswerably. 'And I
shan't have him.’

Fanny watched the scene with mixed feelings. Her hated
rival had been wounded, and that was good; and Madame
was ill in bed, and she had heard the servants whispering that
she would probably lose the baby, which was better. Perhaps
Madame might even die, which would be best of all. But these
things, oddly enough, didn't make her feel as happy as she
expected. She was conscious that the nursery was very quiet
without the Aylesbury children, and that no-one would cry
for her if she were taken away, as Sophie was crying for
Thomas.

She looked at Miss Rosedale petting Sophie's head, and
frowned. Miss Rosedale was
her
governess: she ought to be paying attention to
her.
Well, if Miss Rosedale was so busy
caring for Sophie that she had no time for Fanny, Fanny
would just go off on her own, as she had used to in the old
days. She'd go out riding, and see what adventure came her
way. With a final glare at Miss Rosedale's back, she slipped
out of the room.

When Miss Rosedale had comforted Sophie, dried her face
and brushed her hair, she told her to go out into the fresh air
for a little while before dinner. ‘Go and ask for some bread to
feed the swans, dear,' she advised her. 'There's something
very soothing about feeding animals.’

Sophie wandered downstairs and out into the courtyard,
feeling light-headed as one does after crying. She felt the sun
hot on her head, and the cobbles burning through the thin
soles of her sandals, while inside her everything felt loose and
weak and lethargic. She didn't want to feed the swans. She
wanted her mother, and she wanted Thomas. She didn't
know what to do with herself.