He looked relieved. 'I hadn't thought of that. Oh, thank
you, ma'am! You've eased my mind a great deal. There's only
one other thing,' he added, looking at Wiske again. 'Would
anyone — I mean, the other officers, sir — would they think
it — well, shabby of me? I couldn't bear it if anyone thought I
was not quite the thing.’
Danby smiled inwardly, but kept his face perfectly grave.
'Nothin' to it, dear boy! Nine out of ten of us had our
commissions bought for us. Don't matter a fig who it was.
You'll do very well. Decided which regiment you fancy?’
Marcus's face was alight now. 'Not yet, sir, though of
course my father's regiment was mentioned.'
‘
Heavy cavalry, eh? Well, there's plenty to do out there.’
‘
Oh, yes, sir! I read in the paper that at Salamanca, the
French right flank —'
‘Not now, Marcus,' Lucy said firmly. ‘I'm sure that
another time the Major will be happy to tell you all you want
to know.'
‘
I beg your pardon, ma'am. It was good of you to give me
so much of your time,' Marcus said rising obediently. 'Please
don't trouble to ring — I can see myself out. Might I go up
and say hello to the children before I leave?’
He hadn't far to go to see Rosamund: she accosted him,
wild-eyed, on the first flight of stairs.
‘You're going away to the war!' she cried.
‘
Rosy, have you been listening at the door? Shame on you!
That's not the sort of behaviour expected of a lady.'
‘
Oh, never mind that,' Rosamund said tragically. 'Is it
true? Marcus, are you really going to go away?'
‘
I hope so. But you mustn't repeat it to anyone, not yet.’
‘
When will you go?'
‘
As soon as I can. It will take a few weeks to make the
arrangements, I suppose. But I'll stay for Minnie's wedding,
anyway,' he added, hoping to make her smile. 'I wouldn't
miss seeing you as a bridesmaid.’
She ignored all that. 'Take me with you!' she begged
passionately.
‘Now, Rosy, don't be silly —' he began.
‘
I'm not being silly. Please, please Marcus, take me with
you! I'll cut off my hair, and wear boy's clothes, and be your servant. No-one will know. I can wash your shirts and polish
your boots, and cook for you. I'll do everything for you!'
‘
Rosy, you're talking nonsense,' Marcus said gently. 'I
can't take you with me, and you know it.’
She clutched his arm. 'Then I'll run away! I'll follow you!'
‘
Stop it! Don't talk like that. Isn't there enough trouble in the house, with your cousin Africa?' She looked at him with
resentful, tragic eyes, 'Listen to me, Rosy, if you run away, I'll send you straight back, I swear it! I won't take you with
me, no matter what you say or do.’
Two large tears escaped her lashes and rolled down her
cheeks. Marcus was moved as much as embarrassed. He had never seen Rosamund cry, not even the time she slipped and
put her foot down a grating, and took all the skin off her hin.
‘
Don't do that. Please don't cry,' he said. 'You'll spoil
everything if you cry.'
‘You're going away, and I'll never see you again,' she
whimpered. 'You'll forget all about me, and marry a Spanish
woman, like Lord Leith, and never come back.'
‘
Rosy, love, I promise I won't forget you, and I promise I'll come back — unmarried — as soon as the war's over. It won't
last much longer, you'll see. Then I'll be home.’
She looked doubtful. 'You really promise?'
‘
I really promise. Come on, now, blow your nose, and we'll
go upstairs and see Roland. And I suppose I'd better make it all right with Miss Trotton, since you seem to have left your
lessons again.'
‘
It's all the same time,' she said more cheerfully. 'I never
went back after Hicks took you up.'
‘You are an abominable child, you know.'
‘I know. That's what Miss Trotton calls me.’
*
James was greatly surprised to receive an invitation to meet
Mr Hobsbawn, ‘to discuss Fanny's future', as the letter
proposed, but even more surprised that the meeting was to
take place in Huddersfield. 'I shall be there on business on the
sixteenth,' Hobsbawn's letter said, 'and shall stay overnight
at the George in St George's Square. If you will do me the
honour of dining with me at six o'clock, we can have our
discussion in comfort. I shall bespeak a room for you, if I don't
hear to the contrary.'
‘
I suppose,' he said to Edward, 'that the old fellow hates me
so much he doesn't want me to cross his threshold. A year's
ablutions would hardly serve to cleanse his house of my
contamination.'
‘
Probably he thinks to save you half the journey,' Ned said
sensibly. 'Are you going?'
‘
Of course. Does one ignore a summons from the King of
Cotton?'
‘
Well, do try to act sensibly, then,' Ned advised. 'Don't be
theatrical. And don't jump to the defence until you've heard
him out. I know what you're like where Fanny's concerned.'
‘
Perhaps you ought to go with me,' James suggested evenly.
‘You are Fanny's trustee, after all.'
‘
I've too much to do,' Ned said shortly. 'And it's you he
asks for.'
‘
True,' James sighed. 'Perhaps he wants to advise me on
being a parent. I ought to have some kind of moral support.
Perhaps I'll take Héloïse.'
‘
Don't be silly,' Edward said impatiently. 'I hate it when
you're in this facetious mood.'
‘
I'll take Mathilde, then. She'd like a change of scene, I'm
sure.’
Edward glared at him and stalked out in disgust.
Grandpapa Hobsbawn didn't precisely glare at him when
he entered the private parlour at the George, but his expres
sion wasn't exactly a smile of welcome either. ‘Morland,' he
said, with a brief nod. 'Sit ye down. I've ordered dinner
ahead, or we'd be waiting all night, and I'm sharp-set after a
day's work. I hope you don't mind?' The tone of voice that
went with the words suggested that if James did mind, he
might as well go to the devil for all the difference it would
make to Hobsbawn.
‘
Not at all,' he drawled, with his most charming smile. 'An excellent idea. I'm sure whatever you've ordered will be good
enough for me.’
Hobsbawn looked at him suspiciously, not sure how serious
he was. 'Aye,' he said at last. 'Well, I've ordered a good one,
and a pint of wine to go with it. Now, will you have a glass
of sherry?' James looked enquiringly at the bottle, being
rather particular about sherry. 'I brought my own with me,'
Hobsbawn said shortly. 'You never know in coaching inns.'
‘
Thank you, sir.' He sat down, accepted a glass, sipped,
and found it excellent; and since he had the sense to say so,
sincerely, Hobsbawn thawed quite a bit during the next
few exchanges. 'Well, sir,' James said at last, 'you wanted to
discuss Fanny's future? You know that Edward is her trustee,
not I?'
‘Aye, I know that.'
‘
Of course you do,' James said smoothly, feeling nettled. 'It
was you that arranged matters so with my mother.'
‘
And a good job we did, as things turned out,' Hobsbawn
said. 'But I didn't ask you here to quarrel with you, young
man. You're Fanny's father, and it's only right you should be
the one I talk to, when it comes to matrimonial matters.'
‘Ah,' James said, enlightened. 'Fanny's marriage.'
‘
Just so. It's a matter that can't be thought about too soon
or too long. She's a considerable heiress — aye, and might be
more so, if things go the way I want them to.' He looked pleased with himself.
‘Have you someone in mind for her?' James asked, genially sarcastic.
‘
Aye, I have,' Hobsbawn said promptly. Now listen to me,
young man, and don't get all high and mighty with me, until
you've learned what I propose. You know that when Fanny
was born, I settled a large sum of money on her, but my mills
I left to my cousin Jasper, my nearest male relative.'
‘
You didn't want to leave the mills to a female. I know
that,' James said indifferently. He had never cared whether
Fanny had anything from her mother's family, and cared less
now.
‘
Just so. Of course, when little Henry was born —'
Hobsbawn's face clouded at the memory of his lost child — 'I
changed my will, and left the mills to him. That was only
right. But my boy's dead now —' He took out a handkerchief and trumpeted briskly into it
and life must go on.'
‘
What has all this to do with Fanny's marriage?' James
asked impatiently.
‘
I'm coming to it, never fear! I've thought long and hard about it, and since I've come to know Fanny better, I don't
feel right about leaving the mills away from her. She's a
Hobsbawn all right, from her head to her toes — though she
bears your name,' he added almost as an afterthought, '
and she ought to have what's hers by blood. She's my only
grandchild — her mother's only child — and she ought to
have everything.' He paused, but James did not interrupt.
‘
But there's two things against it,' Hobsbawn carried on.
‘One is that I still don't think a woman knows how to manage a mill — let alone three, or four as it will be soon. Of course,
she could employ an agent or a manager, but hirelings are
prone to cheat you. The second thing is that I feel I owe some
thing to Cousin Jasper. I've never told him that he had
expectations, of course — that would be foolish, and I'm not a
foolish man.'
‘No, sir,' James said.
Hobsbawn shot him a hostile glance. 'You know, I've never
liked you, Morland. You talk soft, and you've no sense when
it comes to money. Just keep your mouth shut, will you, and
remember it isn't your own advantage you're trifling with,
but Fanny's. You've no right to play ducks and drakes with
her
future, whatever you do about your own.’
James held his tongue with a great effort, by visualising
himself dancing at Hobsbawn's funeral.