The Regency (11 page)

The only problem, apart from Mathilde's extreme nervous
ness, which Héloïse hoped and trusted would go away of its
own accord as soon as the fun began, seemed to be Fanny.
She had always regarded Mathilde with too much contempt
to wish to torment her, but the thought of a ball being given
in
her
house for that ugly, freckled thing was too much to be
borne in silence; especially when she discovered that she,
Fanny, was to take no part in it.

‘
But Fanny, love, you're only eleven. You're much too
young to go to balls. When your turn comes, when you're older —' James coaxed again and again.

‘
I don't care! It's my house, and she shan't have a ball if I can't go! It's not fair! I'm nearly eleven-and-a-half, and it is
old enough, it is!’

Fanny raged, and then sobbed, and then threatened. 'I'll
spoil it. I'll
do
something, and then you'll be sorry.' And
finally, her most pointed weapon, 'You don't love me any
more. Ever since that woman came, you love everybody better
than me. Everybody has things, except me. You killed my dog,
and now I haven't got
anything!’

Héloïse retired early in the altercation, knowing her
presence would not help. Edward, rolling his eyes expres
sively, left the room the moment it began and went down to the kennels to shut up the house dogs, and managed to stay
there settling them until the storm had passed. After long
negotiation, James finally persuaded Fanny to go to bed and
not to spoil the ball on condition that she would be allowed to
watch the arrivals from the upper hall, and that James would
personally bring her a tray of supper, and sit with her while
she ate it.

Meanwhile, Héloïse and Marie had attended Mathilde in
the Red Room to help her dress. Her gown was a present
from James for her birthday, fine white jaconet muslin,
embroidered with tiny flowers.

‘
It is very pretty, mademoiselle,' Marie observed, hooking up the pearl buttons down the back. And it fits you to perfection. But you will need to tuck a little lace,' she added appro
vingly. Mathilde had filled out a little since her come-out last
year, and now, in Marie's opinion, had a very adequate
figure.

‘
I wonder what my poor Flon would have said about it,'
Héloïse sighed. 'I wish she could have lived to see you dancing
at Morland Place!'

‘
She'd have found some fault, to be sure, madame,' Marie
said with a small smile. 'The seams, or the set of the sleeve.
Once a mantuamaker, always a mantuamaker.’

Héloïse had lent from her own wardrobe a spangled gauze
shawl, and said as she arranged it, 'You wear a shawl so
nicely,
chérie.
Some girls can, and some girls can't. It makes
you look very elegant.’

Mathilde gave her a nervous but grateful smile. 'I'm sure I shall trip over or drop my fan or something,' she said.

‘
Nonsense, why should you? You had a whole Season in London, and your come-out ball in Chelmsford House, and
you didn't fall over once. Have some sense of proportion, ma
petite. This is a small affair.'

‘
I know, I'm sorry. I don't know why
I'm
being so silly,' Mathilde said contritely, and Héloïse put an arm round her
and kissed her heartily.

‘You're not silly, you're a good girl; and you look lovely.’

‘
Madame, please!' Marie protested, dropping her comb.
'Attention aux cheveux, s'il vows plait!'

‘
Now, what have you for ornament?' Héloïse asked, when
Marie had finished with the head. Mathilde's hair was the
burnished, surprising colour of a marmalade cat, and she
had arranged it in a cluster of shining Greek curls, threaded
with narrow silver ribbon. 'The crystal beads that Lady
Chelmsford bought you in Brighton, perhaps?'

‘
No, Madame, if you please,' Mathilde said hesitantly, her
cheeks colouring. 'I have something else, if you think it is suit
able — a present. Look — it was from Mr Edward Morland.'

‘
Oh, but how pretty!' Héloïse said, as Mathilde brought
forward a small white jeweller's box and, opening it, revealed
a necklace of gold filagree interspersed with small gold beads:
very simple, delicate and pretty. 'When did he give you this?'

‘
This morning, after chapel,' Mathilde said. 'For my birth
day, he said, but he wanted me to have it in time for the ball.
May I wear it?'

‘
Of course, love. It is the very thing. How kind of him to
think of it!' Héloïse said. She had thought Edward too preoccupied with the estate, and too wrapped up in his sadness, to
notice Mathilde's existence.

‘
But he is kind,' Mathilde said, surprised, giving the neck
lace to Marie to fasten for her. 'Whenever I speak to him, he
always listens so kindly, even when he is busy.'

‘
I am glad to hear it. Well, then,' Héloïse said, 'are you
ready? Shall we go down?'

‘
Quite ready, Madame.' Mathilde gathered up her train,
picked up her fan, and made her way downstairs. James and
Edward were waiting in the great hall, warming their tails at
the fire, and Héloïse thought how very handsome James
looked in black and white, and just for a moment wished that
it was not exclusively a young people's ball, and that she
might dance with him. Edward had graced the occasion by
powdering; the contrast with his brown skin made him look
younger, and rather handsome.

‘
It is an elegant custom,' she told him approvingly. 'It is
only a pity you men don't power more often.'

‘I've never powdered in my life,' James said in horror at the
thought. 'Not voluntarily, that is. God forbid! Of course, Ned
doesn't crop either. He's the old-fashioned sort.'

‘
We're not here to discuss our appearance,' Edward said
sternly. 'This is Mathilde's evening. Miss Nordubois, I should
call you now, shouldn't I?' he said, smiling at her. 'May I say
you look quite lovely tonight?’

Mathilde returned the smile shyly. 'Thank you sir. And
thank you again for the necklace. It was very kind of you.'

‘You compliment me by wearing it, my dear,' Edward said.

James caught Héloïse's eye and raised his eyebrows mock
ingly, and putting his mouth to her ear murmured, 'A very
pretty scene — and a credit to all concerned.’

Héloïse frowned him down. 'James, behave yourself,' she
said firmly. 'Is that a carriage I hear?’

The first arrival had come the furthest: Mathilde's old friend Lizzie Spencer from Coxwold, who was to stay at
Morland Place for a few days. Then a clutch of coaches arrived
one after the other, and for the next half-hour the great hall
was filled with the noise and movement of arrival. The young
women clustered together, light and pretty in their pale,
delicate muslins, their heads, like flowers atop long stems,
bound with beads or ribbons or tall plumes, nodding together
as they chattered excitedly and admired each other's toilettes.

The young men were strange and suddenly dignified in
their evening-dress and on their best behaviour, remembering
not to bellow with laughter or jostle each other as they
normally did on meeting. They smirked and pulled down
their upper lips, anxiously comparing their own calf muscles,
hairstyle and neckcloth with those of their friends. One or
two had shaved rather too enthusiastically; some found the
constriction of their collars unfamiliar. Only Tom Keating
and John Skelwith seemed perfectly at ease, the former having
too good a conceit of himself, the latter being too mature and
sensible to be nervous.

The officers from Fulford arrived last, and at their
entrance the chatter died down, as the young women eyed
them admiringly and the young men bristled with resent
ment. The red coats were so distinctive and becoming, and
the officers themselves seemed so sophisticated, bringing with
them the scent of a larger world, of brighter lights and more dashing music. The three originally invited were two young
cornets, Brunton and Fenwick, who had the downy faces and
charming manners of someone's favourite nephews, and a Lieutenant Finucane, who was tall and had red hair and a
hint of Irish in his voice.

They presented themselves most properly to James and
Héloïse, and Finucane then brought forward the fourth
officer, on whom all female eyes had been secretly fixed
since they entered the great hall.

‘
May I present Lieutenant Fitzherbert Hawker, ma'am?'
Finucane said. 'A friend and distant cousin of mine, who
when he heard of my fortune in being invited here tonight,
was ready to kidnap me, steal my invitation, and impersonate
me, for the chance of clapping his eyes on you!’

Hawker was tall — not as tall as Finucane, but better
proportioned — with an elegant figure, and a head of dark
wavy hair any woman would have envied. His lean, handsome
features were lit by a pair of smiling blue eyes, and his
clothes appeared to have been moulded on him. Héloïse did not quite like Finucane's nonsense, and Hawker appeared to
perceive this, for as he bowed over her hand, he gave a
charming, boyish smile and said, 'I must apologise for my
friend, ma'am. His Irish blood makes him a little high-spirited sometimes, but he means no impertinence, I promise you.’

He made his bow very respectfully to James and Edward, and accepted his introduction to Mathilde with just the right
degree of polite friendliness to suit the informality of the
occasion, and the fact that he was several years her senior.
Hèloise was puzzled to guess exactly how old Hawker was. He
seemed older in his manner than any of them except John -
Skelwith, but his physiognomy suggested that he was no more
than twenty-one or -two.

‘
Have you been long at Fulford, Mr Hawker?' she asked,
hoping to calculate something from his answer.

‘Not long, ma'am; in fact, I came up from Brighton only a month ago. I was with the Sussex.'

‘
Brighton — oh, I have been to Brighton,' Mathilde
exclaimed. 'I was there last summer.’

Hawker bowed to her. 'I am only sorry I did not have the
opportunity of making your acquaintance there,' he said, 'but
I joined the Sussex only in October.'