The Flood-Tide (57 page)
‘The army? That sounds rather energetic for an idle fellow like you,' Edward said.
‘Oh, not really. It's a pleasant life, by all accounts, the army in time of peace. Lots of balls, and smart reviews, and marching about, and jolly red coats that the ladies love. Quite the life for me, I should think.'
‘You are grown tired of Court?' Jemima asked. James met her eye seriously.
‘There are things that go on that I can't like, Mama. You have always thought me a pretty hopeless rake, but compared with the Prince of Wales and his friends I'm an angel upon earth. And the King's getting old, and who knows, his illness may come back on him at any moment, and I don't want to witness again what I witnessed last winter. And if the King should die—' He shrugged, and Jemima was pleased at this evidence of a kind heart under James's appearance of idle sophistication.
‘If it's what you want, James, then I don't see why it shouldn't be done,' Allen said. 'Better that you should have some occupation than live solely for pleasure - that only makes a man think ill of himself in the long run.'
‘Must it be the army though?' Jemima said. 'Would you not like to go into the Church?'
‘Oh Mother, really,' Edward exclaimed, while James grinned at the idea.
Jemima went on stubbornly, 'It's as gentlemanly a calling, and a great deal safer. And we'd have you at home more.'
‘The army is safe enough in peacetime, Mama,' James said. 'I wouldn't be thinking of it at all if I thought I might have to do any fighting.’
They walked on companionably towards the house, and when they went into the yard they saw a strange horse there, tied to a ring and looking as though it had been ridden hard.
‘A visitor?' Jemima said. Now who could that be?' The horse shifted its weight and sneezed, and taking a closer look at it, Jemima said, 'That's Sir John Anstey's gelding, surely?'
‘Business then, for me,' Allen said. 'If it was social, he'd have come in the carriage, and brought the young people.'
‘He's probably come to shoot me for not marrying any of his daughters yet,' James said languidly, but it was only a joke. All the unpleasantness had died down and been forgotten, and though Sir John was a little uneasy in James's presence, his friendship with Jemima and Allen was restored to its old footing.
He was waiting in the hall for them when they went inside, and Oxhey came forward to announce him, but he did not wait upon formality.
‘Ah, Sir Allen! Your servant, ma'am, young gentlemen. Sir Allen, have you heard the news from France?' ‘What news?'
‘Ah, you have not then. I thought perhaps you'd not have heard it yet.' He flourished a newspaper excitedly. ‘It's in the paper, hot from London, and as soon as I read it I said to Lady Anstey, by God, madam, I said, I'll wager Sir Allen won't have heard this yet, and so I came straight over. I tell you, sir, it's a bad business, a bad business!'
‘What is it, Sir John?' Allen said, beginning to feel apprehensive as he held his hand out for the proferred paper. Sir John looked round them solemnly, gathering his audience.
‘just three days since, sir, in Paris, a great mob of common people marched upon the castle - what's its damn name? - the Bastille, and stormed it, sir, and took it, against the King's soldiers, and cannon, and everything. They tore it down, and murdered everyone in it, and released all the prisoners, and marched off with them. It's a revolution, sir - and you mark me, it's only the beginning. Mob rule, anarchy, what you will! By God, sir, there'll be the devil to pay now! What do you think of that, sir?' he concluded triumphantly. Allen had the paper in his hands and was trying to read the account of the matter, but could not take it in, and when he lifted his eyes Sir John was still staring at him, a monument of disapproval and excitement at having been the one with the news. 'Well, sir? Eh?' Anstey prompted.
‘Good God, sir,' was all Allen could say.
DYNASTY 1: THE FOUNDING
Cynthia Harrod-Eagles
Triumphantly heralding the mighty Morland Dynasty — an epic saga of one family's fortune and fate through five hundred years of history. A story as absorbing and richly diverse as the history of the English-speaking people themselves.
THE FOUNDING Power and prestige are the burning ambitions of Edward Morland, rich sheep farmer and landowner.
He arranges a marriage. A marriage that will be the first giant step in the founding of the Morland Dynasty.
A dynasty that will be forged by his son Robert, more poet than soldier. And Eleanor, ward of the powerful Beaufort family. Proud and aloof, and consumed by her secret love for Richard, Duke of York.
And so with THE FOUNDING, The Morland Dynasty begins — with a story of fierce hatred and war, love and desire, running through the turbulent years of the Wars of the Roses.
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