‘Charlotte Baird is the only girl I have ever thought of marrying,’ said Bay.
‘Understandably. You don’t find an heiress like that very often.’
‘My reasons for wanting to marry her are not mercenary.’
‘Of course not. You like her because she is a sweet young thing who worships the ground you walk on, but would she be so quite so sweet if she didn’t have sixty thousand a year? Hard to tell. Man like you is bound to fall for the rich ones. How else are you going to keep a decent string?’
Bay knocked on the roof of the carriage to signal the coachman to stop.
‘What on earth are you doing, Middleton?’ said Spencer in surprise.
‘I am going to walk the rest of the way.’
‘But why?’
‘Because I don’t want to hit you,’ said Bay, opening the carriage door.
* * *
Baron Nopsca, who had been following the Earl’s carriage since Bay had got into it, sat back in his seat so that he wouldn’t be seen. But when he saw Bay’s face he realised that the Captain was not in a state to notice anything or anybody. He stood on the pavement in his dress uniform, the hilt of his sword gleaming in the spring sunshine, looking as if he might take out the sabre and run through a few pedestrians. The Baron told his driver to wait in a side street. He looked at his pocket watch and observed the hands pass for two minutes, before Bay shook himself and began to walk north towards Portman Square. The Baron waited until he saw Bay disappear into Crewe House, then told the carriage to go back to Claridge’s Hotel.
The Wedding Breakfast
‘Now I would like the Newlyweds in the centre here. Perhaps the groom could smile just a little? I know that marriage is a serious business but surely not that serious. You have only been in wedlock for an hour.’ Caspar had arranged the wedding party on the orchestra dais of the Crewe House ballroom. The bride and groom were standing slightly in front.
‘Miss Chambers and Lady Violet, if you could move a little to your left, I think we want to see those beautiful dresses and their lovely owners. Very nice. Now, Charlotte, if you could move a little closer to your brother. No, there is something wrong with the drape of your skirt, if you will allow me?’
Caspar was fiddling with the volumes of fabric, when the door was opened by a footman and Bay walked in.
‘Am I too late?’
‘Not at all, Captain Middleton,’ said Caspar smoothly. ‘I am still arranging my subjects. Why don’t you come and stand over here between Lady Violet and Miss Chambers?’
‘As the best man, I believe I should stand next to the maid of honour.’ Bay found a spot next to Charlotte, who did not turn her head.
Caspar gave a tight smile. ‘Oh, the English, such sticklers for etiquette. Please don’t worry about the composition of the photograph, Captain Middleton. What’s a little asymmetry if the laws of precedence are being observed?’
Tapping her fan on her head rather menacingly, Lady Crewe said, ‘We must get on, Mr Hewes, tempus fugit.’
‘Indeed, Lady Crewe, I am practically ready; all I require now is for you all to look at me and imagine that you are ankle-deep in melted chocolate.’
The bizarre image he conjured up broke the stiffness in their faces, and Caspar took the picture.
‘Well, I think I have it,’ said Caspar.
‘Wait,’ said Charlotte, stepping forward. ‘May I be allowed to take one picture? Caspar, why don’t you stand in there, I am sure Augusta would like a picture of you as well.’
Ignoring Lady Crewe’s sigh and Caspar’s look of horror, Charlotte took a plate from the case and inserted it into the camera.
‘Now if everyone could look at me, that’s it. Now I want you to imagine me going on a tour of North America to take photographs. Remember, quite still, everybody.’
She disappeared under the cloth, squeezed the bulb and took the picture.
When she emerged the bridal party broke up, Lady Crewe hurrying to the drawing room to take charge of the wedding breakfast, followed by Augusta.
But Fred broke away from his wife to say to Charlotte, ‘The going to America thing was a trick to shock us like the chocolate, wasn’t it?’
‘Not exactly.’
‘But you can’t be serious! You must know that I would never allow it,’ said Fred.
‘Don’t worry, Fred, I understand your objections,’ said Charlotte, taking the plate out of the camera and putting it in its case, ‘but I am still thinking about it.’
‘It’s a preposterous idea. You can’t go gallivanting round the world on your own just because you’ve had a disappointment.’
‘It’s got nothing to do with disappointment. If I go it’s because I want to take pictures of something more interesting than our friends, their servants, their houses and their animals.’ She looked at Fred and smiled. ‘And I have no intention of going alone. I am sure Mr Hewes will come with me if I ask him.’
Fred laughed. ‘You shouldn’t tease me like that, Mitten. For a moment there I thought you were serious.’
But before Charlotte could reply, he was summoned by a shrill cry from his wife, ‘Fred, I am waiting.’
As the rest of the wedding party left the room, Charlotte was engaged in conversation by Lady Violet Anson, her fellow bridesmaid. Lady Violet had never paid much attention to Charlotte on the few occasions that they had met, but now she seemed eager to make friends.
‘Charlotte, my dear girl, I had no idea you were so skilful, you must give me some instruction. I long to take photographs. Such a sociable thing to do. You have everybody quite at your command.’
‘I wouldn’t say that. You can’t guarantee that the sitters will like the results,’ Charlotte said, wondering how much Violet knew about what had happened at the Royal Photographic Exhibition. But as she saw the other girl’s eye flicker towards Bay, who was talking to Lord Crewe, it was obvious that her fellow bridesmaid knew every detail of the story.
‘That must be very trying. But if you were to take a photograph of me I am sure I would be delighted.’
‘If you want a portrait you should sit for Mr Hewes. Everybody likes his pictures. Augusta was thrilled with hers. Come let me introduce you.’
Charlotte shepherded Lady Violet towards Caspar, who was shutting up his camera. ‘Caspar, I want to present you to Lady Violet Anson. She wants to have her photograph taken and I told her that you would do a much better job than me.’
‘Well, I dispute that entirely, you are easily the more talented, but as I can never resist photographing a beautiful woman, I would be delighted to photograph you, Lady Violet.’ He stood to one side considering her.
‘With your colouring I think I would pose you as Ophelia.’
Lady Violet, who was so pale that she looked quite spectral in her bridesmaid’s dress, looked delighted.
Charlotte left them together and joined the group that was heading towards the wedding breakfast. As she stood in the hall waiting for the clump of guests on the staircase to disperse, she felt a touch on her elbow.
‘You can’t ignore me for ever,’ said Bay.
‘But I have nothing to say to you.’
‘You aren’t really going to America.’
‘That’s funny, Fred said exactly the same thing. But I suppose he has a reason to ask as he is my brother. You, on the other hand, do not.’ She turned to go but Bay stepped in front of her.
‘Charlotte, please don’t be haughty. Whatever you think of me, it cannot be worse than the opinion I have of myself. You are the person I care for and yet I have wronged you. Won’t you let me explain?’
Charlotte tried to push past him. ‘There is nothing to explain. I have seen the photograph: it speaks for itself.’
Bay blocked her way, his hand on the hilt of his sword.
‘That wretched photograph. It is just a moment – an instant where, perhaps, I was dazzled by the Empress. But it is not a picture of my heart.’
‘I am not sure I believe you,’
said Charlotte.
‘But why not? I am only here because of you. Take a photograph of me now and judge what you see in my face.’
‘I just did. But whatever it shows, I am afraid it’s too late.’
Bay leant towards her and she could see tears in his pale blue eyes. ‘Really, Charlotte? Are you sure?’
She shook her head. ‘No, I am not sure about anything. But that’s the point. I have to be sure about the man I am going to marry.’
She pushed past Bay and started going up one arm of the double staircase.
Bay followed her. ‘Couldn’t I just come and talk to you? I miss you.’
‘Talk to me?’ said Charlotte.
‘Tell you stories. Try and make you laugh. I used to be good at that. I could even tell you how Hartopp came to be called Chicken.’
Charlotte tried not to react. She carried on climbing the stairs, her hand gripping the balustrade as if she were afraid she might fall.
‘Do you think that I am really so easy to win over?’
‘Admit it. You are consumed with curiosity.’
‘You don’t mind betraying your friend?’
‘I don’t think he would call me his friend at the moment.’
Charlotte turned her head. ‘You gave him the black eye?’
‘I am afraid so.’
‘But why?’
‘Because he told me to leave you alone so that he could “have a crack” at you, as he put it. I told him that it wouldn’t make any difference as you would never accept him.’
‘Then you have done me a service. Does he really imagine that I would change my mind about him so quickly?’
‘You changed your mind about me,’ said Bay.
They were at the top of the stairs, behind a throng of guests waiting to go down the receiving line. Some people coming up the other arm of the double staircase looked at Bay and Charlotte with interest. Charlotte noticed this and tried to separate herself from Bay and become part of the group ahead of her. But Bay stayed close.
‘People are looking at us,’ said Charlotte.
‘Let them look,’ said Bay.
‘It’s easy for you to say that, but I don’t want to be gossiped about any more than I already am, thanks to you. Please go away.’
‘Only if you promise to let me see you.’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘Then I will tell Chicken that you have confessed to me your overwhelming desire to be Mrs Hartopp and that he should propose to you at once.’
Charlotte could not help smiling, but she put her hand up in front of her like a shield.
‘You are not going to win me over, Bay.’
Bay was about to answer, but Caspar and Lady Violet had walked up the other side of the staircase and had drawn level with them.
‘Captain Middleton, it is such a pleasure to meet you finally, having seen you on a photographic plate. It is fascinating to observe the original.’ Caspar bowed.
‘I am afraid I am bound to be a disappointment,’ said Bay.
‘Not in that uniform. In my country we rarely see anything so splendid. Not man-made, anyway.’
‘It’s a bit awkward to walk around town in, although it’s quite reassuring having a sword.’ Bay put his hand on the hilt of his sabre.
Caspar laughed. ‘In the West everybody carries a gun. I feel quite naked without mine.’
‘But nobody needs a gun in London!’ said Lady Violet. ‘We are not savages here.’
‘We are not savages in San Francisco either,’ said Caspar, looking at Bay, ‘but we like to be prepared.’
There was a general bustle from inside the drawing room which suggested that the speeches were about to begin. Charlotte hurried inside. One of her duties as chief bridesmaid was to give flower favours from the bride’s bouquet to all the female guests. Augusta thought that this was a charming custom, and had told Charlotte it would give her a chance to meet more people. ‘You can never have too many female acquaintances. With your fortune you will never lack for male admirers, but it’s the women who make the rules.’
She took the bouquet from the table that displayed the couple’s wedding presents. Charlotte’s gift to the bride of a pearl and topaz necklace was displayed in its red velvet case; but her real gift to the bride had been the loan of the Lennox diamonds. Charlotte had taken a certain pleasure in not conferring this boon until the day before the wedding. It had been enjoyable watching her sister-in-law’s delight in snubbing Charlotte, fighting her desire to be resplendent on her wedding day in the Lennox tiara.
Bay’s present to the couple was a pair of Meissen figurines of a shepherd and shepherdess. They were exquisite things, standing out from the heavy silver candelabra, pearl-handled fish knives and tortoiseshell dressing cases that made up the majority of the couple’s tributes. Meissen porcelain was not something that Charlotte would have expected Bay to choose, but then, she reflected, there was a great deal about Bay that she didn’t know.
She picked up the bouquet and circulated, giving out white narcissi and waxy stephanotis to the ladies. As she made her way through the tables and chairs Lord Crewe made a speech on the joys of matrimony, drawing his examples entirely from the Arthurian legends, which perhaps was not the most fertile ground, as Arthur and Guinevere, Lancelot and Elaine and Sir Bedivere had not been known for the felicity of their marriages. Then Fred stood up and made the shortest possible speech, with a great deal of throat clearing and spluttering before and after, but as he looked so genuinely pleased to be married, his awkwardness was forgiven, although Augusta watched him beadily throughout.
Then Bay stood up. Hartopp had been vetoed by Augusta, on account of the black eye.
Bay started off by congratulating Fred for his good fortune in being accepted by a bride as exceptional as Augusta. Charlotte tried not to smile at Bay’s use of the adjective. Then he went into flattering detail about Fred’s army career, his prowess in the saddle, and his skill at the game of quoits they used to play in the officers’ mess with napkin rings and candlesticks. He was a natural speaker and his audience relaxed, satisfied that he would not embarrass them or himself. He told an anecdote about Fred’s time in Ireland when as a young adjutant he had been expected to dance with all the young ladies at the vice-regal balls and had to have a consignment of dancing slippers sent over from London because he was getting through the shoe leather so quickly.
Bay took a sip of champagne and continued, ‘We are here to celebrate a marriage. There is nothing more noble than the words of the marriage service which pledge to have and to hold from this day forward. I wish Fred and Augusta every blessing in their married life,’ and here he looked directly at Charlotte, ‘I can only pray that I will be granted the same chance to devote myself to another person’s happiness.’
A gust of interest blew through the room at this obvious statement of intent. Charlotte, who had been trying to find an undamaged flower to give to the Dowager Countess of Trent, blushed despite herself. As everyone stood up to drink the health of the bride and groom, she slipped outside to give herself a moment to recover.
As she stood on the stone landing holding onto the balustrade with one hand, the dismembered bouquet with the other, Charlotte looked down into the hall and saw the footman open the door. A man in splendid livery stood outside and there was a muffled conversation between them. At last the footman admitted the man, who gave him a card which the footman carried upstairs on a silver tray. Charlotte watched as the card was handed to Lady Crewe and saw that lady start with surprise and nod violently. She leant over to whisper something in Augusta’s ear which made the bride look more animated than she had all day. The footman was sent downstairs again.
This time the liveried servant opened the double doors to Crewe House.
From her vantage point, Charlotte saw the hair first – the medusa-like crown of auburn plaits cascading out beneath the tiny top hat trimmed with peacock feathers.
She tried to retreat into the drawing room but
Lord and Lady Crewe were coming through the door to greet the Empress, so Charlotte retreated back onto the landing, trying to tuck herself away behind the double door.
The Empress climbed the white marble steps surprisingly quickly, the Countess Festetics hurrying to keep up with her.
‘Lady Crewe,’ said Sisi. ‘You must forgive me for intruding. But when Captain Middleton told me that he was attending the wedding of your daughter I suddenly thought how nice it would be to see an English wedding. In my country it is the custom for members of the royal house to bless the brides of good families, so I thought you would excuse my visit. I should so much like to offer your daughter my congratulations.’
Lady Crewe had a little difficulty extricating herself from her extremely deep curtsey.
‘We are honoured, Your Majesty. Augusta and Fred will feel doubly blessed. Please come in and let me introduce them to you.’
Charlotte thought that the Empress was rather less alluring close to, than she had been as a silhouette upon a horse. From a distance she was an exciting idea; three feet away Charlotte could see the lines around her eyes, the grooves between the nose and the mouth and the red knuckles on her hands. She was graceful, the carriage of her head was impeccable and she moved as if she was on castors instead of feet. But the Empress was a woman whose claim to beauty was now an effort of will rather than a self-evident truth.
The Empress processed into the room and there was much bowing and curtseying. Augusta, pink with excitement, offered the Empress her chair as the place of honour. But Sisi demurred and put her hands to Augusta’s face.
The Fortune Hunter Page 35
