The Victory (90 page)

‘
I should like to make all your wedding clothes, my love, but I fear my poor old hands are too stiff now. With Marie's
help, I could still make your wedding-gown, at least, but for
the rest I think you will have to engage a mantuamaker. I'm
sorry to let you down so, but it's best to be honest.’

As Fanny insisted that her gown must be made by the
leading mantuamaker in York, it was decided to let her make
all the other clothes. Héloïse did not want an extensive new
wardrobe: she felt absurdly superstitious, for one thing, that
if they made too many plans, something would go wrong; and
for another, the wedding would have to be small and quiet,
and the wedding visits would be circumscribed by the recent
ness of bereavement. But Hon was adamant that her gown
for the wedding itself would be the most beautiful thing she
had ever seen. 'For this occasion, you must dazzle everyone,'
she said.

*

There was a sadness in packing up and leaving Plaisir, which had been a home and a haven to them all. Even Barnard, who was to go on ahead to Morland Place in order to settle in and
prepare the wedding feast, was a little sorry to go; but his
mind was much more on what changes he would find to his
kitchens, and how long it would take to train the other
servants to his ways. When he arrived at Morland Place, he
found his reputation had gone ahead of him, and the servants
who did not already know him were so much in awe of him
that there was an almost cathedral-like hush in the servants' hall that first day. It put him in such a good humour that he
quite forgot to object to the Rumford, and even found himself
using the slow hob for a particularly temperamental sauce.
Fortunately no-one noticed, and as soon as it was smooth, he
was able to put it to one side and hasten back to his usual
place, between the open fire and the enormous, scrubbed
table.

Marie's sadness in leaving was more particular, and gave her several sleepless nights. Her friendship with Kexby, the
carrier, had begun casually, and she had enjoyed the conveni
ence of having him to take her out on her days off as much as
his company. He was not the sort of man even a middle-aged woman dreams of; but his tireless kindness and good-humour
had recommended him more and more to her affections, and
now the thought of never seeing him again quite overset her.

Kexby himself, without ever in his life having meant to
cause anyone pain, her least of all, brought her unhappiness
to a peak by asking her to marry him.

‘
I'm not much of a catch, I know,' he said humbly, 'and I wouldn't have presumed to ask you, except that you was so
kind as to say you'd be sorry to go and not see me namore. But I've a little house, and my business, and my bit saved,
which you could have every penny to make the house nice,
just as you wanted, and I'd see you never wanted for
anything. I think you must know by now how much I think to you, Mary love, and it would break my heart never to see you
again.’

Marie hastened to disclaim his humility, to assure him that
she was honoured by his regard and flattered by his offer. It
took her a great deal of heart-searching and many tears
before she could turn him down. But how could she leave
Madame? Particularly at a time like this. She had been maid to Madame's aunt, had known her since she was a child, and
more than that, had fled France with her when her life was in
danger, had gone through peril, shipwreck, poverty, exile, joy
and misery with her. How could she leave her now, on the
brink of a new life, and the fulfilment of all her dreams?
Had Marie asked Héloïse the same question, she might have received a different answer, but Kexby only nodded
humbly, and said he quite understood.

‘
But York isn't so very far away,' he said hesitantly.
'Mebbe if I was to make a trip down there once in a while
with my cart, you p'raps wouldn't be against seeing me again?
I wouldn't make a nuisance of myself,' he added hastily.

Marie's lip trembled, and she placed her hands impulsively
in his, making his ears grow quite pink and hot. 'I should be
so happy if you would come,' she said. 'And perhaps, in a year or two, when Madame is settled, if you still felt the same way,
you might ask me that other question again.'

‘
By!' Kexby said fervently. 'You just give me the nod, and
I'll ask you right enough!’

*

The wedding was to be a quiet one, attended only by the
family, servants, and estate workers. Lucy travelled to
Morland Place for the ceremony, but without the children,
and there were no guests except for John and Louisa Anstey.
Louisa, of course, was like a sister to the Morlands, and John
had agreed, in the absence of any suitable male relative, to
give Héloïse away.

She was to sleep the night before the wedding at Morland
Place, in the great bedchamber, with its new hangings of
crimson brocade, in the elaborately carved bed of age-black
ened oak, where Morlands had been born and died generation
after generation since the house was first built. James would
sleep in his room in the bachelor wing for the last time that
night, and they would be married the next morning in the
chapel.

All the servants were lined up in the hall, including the
servants from Plaisir who had come on ahead, when Héloïse
finally came home to Morland Place on All Souls Day, 1806. It was an occasion which might well have given Fanny cause
for jealousy, for there could hardly have been a person
present, except herself, who did not regard the ceremony in
the light of welcoming home the Mistress to her own; and
seeing the joyful faces all around her as Héloïse went along
the line shaking hands and exchanging words with the household, Fanny vowed that the very instant she came of age and
the trust was ended, 'that woman' would be sent away.

For now, however, she must bide her time, and look about
her for other ways of taking her revenge. The tall, red-headed
Mathilde she regarded as no threat. She was quite old, a
grown-up really, and no-one, Fanny was convinced, could care
two straws about a thin, freckled creature with hair that
colour. But the sight of Sophie had raised all her bristles.
Here was a real potential rival, and the smile her father had
bestowed upon the child had made Fanny cold with fury. She
did not know who or what Thomas was, except that Sophie
evidently adored him, and Fanny was glad, because it made
Sophie vulnerable. She could be got at through Thomas, if it
became necessary.

All evening the house seethed as the newcomers settled in,
and there was more noise and movement than Morland Place
had heard for a long time. The Plaisir household might be
small, but they were very vocal, and chattering and calling to
each other in a mixture of French and English, pattering up
and down stairs, unpacking bags, mislaying and searching for
things, and coming into the drawing-room to ask questions
and receive instructions, they made their presence felt.

Father Aislaby held a special service in place of vespers,
and after it, Héloïse, worn out with excitement and emotion,
decided to go straight to bed. James said goodnight to her at
the foot of the chapel stairs.

‘
When you come down those stairs tomorrow morning, it
will be to marry me,' he said, holding both her hands and
looking down into her eyes. She did not smile. She looked very tired, and rather subdued. 'What is it, Marmoset? Are
you having second thoughts?'

‘
Oh no!' she said at once. 'Not that, my James! Only — I
am still a little afraid. It seems too much happiness to be
possible.'

‘Foolish,' he said. 'What can happen now?’

She placed her fingers against his lips. 'Don't say it. The
gods may be listening.’

He kissed the fingers and returned them to her. 'Go to bed,
my superstitious little pagan, and sleep. Tomorrow we will be
man and wife at last, and nothing can prevent that now.’

She went up the spiral stairs, and James went away to
prepare himself for a sleepless night; for whatever he might say to comfort her, he knew all the same superstitious fears. When Durban came to wake him the next morning, he found
his master wide awake, and wanting to be reassured like a
child that Madame had not died in the night.

*

Morning came to the great bedchamber too, and Marie woke
her mistress and helped her into her wrapper, ready for
Father Aislaby's visit. Héloïse had arranged with him the
night before that he should come at dawn and hear her
confession and shrive her, and give her his blessing. When
that was done and he had gone away, Marie came back with
Flon, and when they saw how white she was, Flon said, 'This
will never do. You can't go to your wedding looking like that.'

‘I feel sick,' Héloïse confessed.

‘It is no wonder,' Marie said severely. 'She ate nothing at
supper last night, and hardly anything at dinner, either.’

 
‘
Well then, she must eat breakfast,' Eon decreed. Héloïse
protested, but Flon only said, 'I won't have you fainting at
your wedding and shaming me. There is plenty of time. Marie
shall run down and fetch you something while I see to your
bath. I can hear the maids next door now with the water.'
When she had bathed, Héloïse was obliged to sit down at
the dressing-table and confront a tray of fresh bread, fruit,
and hot chocolate. Knowing it was of no use to protest, she
began reluctantly to force something down, and then almost
at once began to feel better. When the tray had been cleared,
the unpleasant swooping sensation inside her died down to a
distant fluttering, which she now felt strong enough to cope
with.

‘
And now all you have to do is stand quietly while we dress
you,' Flon told her. She stood in front of the looking-glass,
and the image that faced her seemed remote and unreal. She
thought suddenly of James, probably at that very moment
being dressed by Durban in his wedding clothes, and it
seemed both absurd and beautiful that they, who knew each
other better than anyone in the world, should be going
through this strange ceremony to establish the fact. She
wished for one passionate moment that she could be tall and fair and handsome for him, and looked with disfavour at her
tiny, child-sized body,
_d
^a
rk skin, and long-nosed, wide-
mouthed face. Make me beautiful, she wanted to cry to Flon
and Marie, as they lifted the wedding-gown over her head
and settled it about her.