The Regency (106 page)

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Authors: Cynthia Harrod-Eagles

Tags: #Fantasy, #General, #Fiction

BOOK: The Regency
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You have no right to ask me for gauges of love, when you
give me none,' she said coolly.

No, no, my darling, you don't understand.' She jumped
when he used the word 'darling', but he went on without
seeming to notice. 'I'm not trying to test you — that would be
the action of a coxcomb. Besides, I know my Fanny: she
would tell me willingly that she loved me, but if I tried to
coerce her, she would look at me haughtily and walk away.'


It's as well you understand that,' Fanny said With an
unwilling smile.


Don't I tell you I know you? Very well, then, I will be honest
with you. Pound dealing between us, nothing less. I love
you, Fanny Morland. I think I've been half in love with you
ever since you were a tangle-haired child, furious because you
weren't allowed to go to the ball. But now it's much more
than that. It's got to the stage where I can't manage without
you. You are in my mind all the time, disturbing my
thoughts, interfering with my former pleasures.'


Probably just as well,' Fanny remarked. 'I can guess what
they were.'

‘Can you? Shame on you! But let me finish. I love you, and
I want to marry you. The only question is, do you love me
enough to want to marry me? For I have to tell you that I am completely rolled up.'

‘Rolled up?'


Under the hatches. Penniless. I haven't a feather to fly with.
In fact, if I don't come up with something soon, some reason
to give my creditors hope, I shall either be forced to fly the
country, or I shall end up in the Debtor's Prison over there.’

She looked at him in perplexity. 'How can you be rolled
up? What were you living on before? You must have had
money — where is it gone?’

He laughed. 'My dear little heiress, you can't conceive of
someone's having no money, can you? I have been living on
credit, simpleton! And now my credit has all but run out, and
the duns are on my tail. A run of luck at macao or hazard
would have done the trick, but the cards haven't been running
my way lately.’

His use of the word
heiress
had made her think. 'Why have
you told me this now?' she asked cautiously.


Because I don't want to have to tip you the double, with
out your knowing why I've gone.' He eyed her shrewdly. ‘Do
you think I'm after your money, Fanny? Do you think I want
to marry you because you're rich?'


Of course not,' she said quickly. 'In any case, it wouldn't
do you any good, because I don't inherit until I'm twenty-
one.'


I know that, goose. But that won't do for an answer,
because you know, or you ought to know, that if I were to
marry you, I should be able to raise almost unlimited credit
on your expectations. So I ask again, do you think I want you
for your money? Pound dealing, remember.’

She met his eyes steadily. 'I think you do really love me;
and that you want my money too. And indeed, why shouldn't
you? For if you had any money, I should want it. There's
nothing wrong in that.’

He crowed with laughter. 'Fanny Morland, you're a woman
in a million! In ten million! But I don't know that it mightn't
have been better for both of us if you hadn't a fortune to
your name, for then I could run away with you at once.'


Don't be silly. It's much better to have money,' Fanny said
sensibly.


So it is. And do you love me enough to marry me, even
though I'm penniless?'

‘Are you proposing to me?'


I am. I'd do it in better style, but the place and the time
are not propitious.'


I want to marry you,' she said evenly. 'But it may be
difficult. I don't think my family will like the idea, if you really
are penniless.'


We won't tell them that,' Hawker said. 'In fact, we won't
tell them anything just yet, if you don't mind, Fanny, not
until we've accustomed them to my presence. I think I can raise the recruits for one last time, enough to stave off the
duns for a month or two. We must work gently on your father
— I fancy he's rather fond of you.’

Fanny stood up. 'We ought to walk on,' she said. She
looked about her in a rather dissatisfied way. 'It isn't how I
imagined being proposed to. And now I suppose I'm engaged,
but with nothing to shew for it.'


Poor Fanny, have I taken all the fun out of it? But don't
fret. When the time comes, I'll propose to you again, with as much ceremony as you like. And when we're married, I think
I can promise you'll find love a great deal more romantic than romance.’

*

In June the allied sovereigns came to London to celebrate the Treaty of Paris. Major Wiske was amongst the escort guard of
honour who accompanied them, and as soon as his duties
permitted, he set out to call on Lucy at Upper Grosvenor Street.
On his way there, however, he suddenly lost his nerve, and
decided to call in for a stiffener on the way at one of the clubs.
Stephen's in Bond Street was the army officer's club, but he
felt he had rather get away from his fellow-warriors for the
moment, so he headed instead for White's.

He found it unexpectedly crowded, and there was evidently something untoward going on.


What the deuce is the matter, Glenning?' he asked the porter as he gave him his hat. 'This place is very peculiar
today.'

‘Yessir, Major Wiske!' Glenning said promptly in his hoarse
whisper — souvenir of some campaign in the Revolutionary
War, when a shell exploded too close to him, and he inhaled
the smoke. 'Hit's on account of this Maskewerade, sir, what
the members is giving for the Hallied Soverings. Causing the
club servants a lot of extra work, it is, sir, not but what the
members aren't generous to a fault, sir, in the matter of — oh,
thank you very much Major Wiske, sir!'


You're an old reprobate, Glenning. Is anyone here that I
know?'


Mr Brummell and the rest of the Set is over at Burlington
'Ouse, sir, looking at the floor; but Lord Anstey went into the drawing-room a bit since.'

‘Thank you, Glenning. I'll go and have a word.'


Thank
you
sir. It's nice to 'ave you back Major Wiske,
sir.’

John Anstey was reading the paper, but jumped up as
Wiske came in and came towards him with his hands out.


What a piece of luck! I've just ordered a bottle of claret,
and it's poor sport drinking it alone. How are you, Wiske? Did
you come over with the Sovereigns?'


Yes, part of the guard of honour. Only just come off duty
after eighteen hours at a run — thought I'd take a nip of
something before going to Upper Grosvenor Street. I was
beginning to wish I'd gone to Stephen's after all! What's all
this about a masquerade?'


Oh, the ball? We — the members of White's, that is — are
giving a ball at Burlington House.'

‘Yes, I gathered that, but why a masquerade?’

A waiter set a bottle of claret on the table beside them.
Tipped off by Glenning, he had also brought two glasses.


Prinny's idea. He thinks it will make it more informal, and
allow some of the
demi-monde
to attend, which will make it
more fun for him, and infinitely more naughty.'


Good God! Julia Johnstone and Harriette Wilson and all
that set?'


That's right. But don't worry, old fellow — you can come
in uniform if you like.'


Thanks very much,' Wiske blinked. 'I hope Prinny isn't
going to come as Henry VIII or anythin' embarrassing?'


I doubt it, not with the Sovereigns there. What the Csar
will think of it all I don't know — he was strictly brought up,
so I hear. What's he like — have you had much to do with
him?'


Tall, good-looking, auburn hair and pink cheeks. Looks a
good deal younger than his age. Acts it, too. Women all want
to pet him. Perfectly affable, only rather earnest about things;
have to watch what you're sayin'.'


No trouble to me,' Anstey grinned, 'but there are others —!
Prinny's been in a state, afraid someone's going to invite the
Princess of Wales. He tried to get a rule set up about the
tickets, that the members couldn't give them away to anyone but their own relatives. That way, the only person who could
invite his wife would be him, and he'd be sure he wouldn't do
i
t.’

Wiske smiled. Nothing's changed,' he said. 'How's Lucy?’


Much the same — you know Lucy. She never was one to
wear her heart on her sleeve.'

‘I wonder,' Wiske said glumly.

‘You do?'

‘Wonder if I do know her.’

Anstey eyed him sympathetically, and poured him a glass
of claret. 'It's none of my business, I know, old fellow, but if it
will help to talk about it —’

Wiske drank appreciatively, and then said, 'I was thinking
of asking your advice, actually. I mean, you must know Lucy
better than anyone now.'


Except that groom of hers, Parslow, but it might be diffi
cult to confide in him,' John smiled. 'Well, yes, I've known
Lucy all her life, since she was a little girl — all those years
ago, when the world was young! It's hard to believe it now,
when I remember those days. I was in love with her sister
Mary — she was so beautiful! — and little Lucy was in love
with a drunken old horse-doctor called Proom! She always
was the oddest creature.' He returned from his brief reverie to
catch Wiske's expression. 'Oh, I'm sorry, old fellow! Do go on.
What was it you wanted to ask?'


It's a bit delicate,' Wiske said, frowning. 'Quite in
confidence?'


Of course,' Anstey said, half puzzled, half amused. 'Lucy's
welfare is very dear to my heart. I regard her rather as a sister.’


Well, then,' Wiske said with difficulty, 'you know I'm very
fond of her? More than that, really. Been in love with her for years, though I kept it to myself.' Anstey made a sympathetic
noise in his throat. 'Well, a couple of years ago, I began to feel
that perhaps Lucy's feelings had changed. I took the chance
and declared myself, and asked her to marry me.’

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