Regency Belles & Beaux

by Michele McGrath

  “Which you do, thank God.” Philip laughed. “I intend to ask him to make me a loan against the estate. The dibs are beginning to run low.”

  “Edward and I have money.”

  “You may, little sister, but who knows how much we will need in the future? I have to be prepared.” He smiled to himself. He had another question for the ambassador, but it was one he would only tell them about if he received the answer he wanted.

  Philip called at the ornate house of the British Ambassador overlooking the park. He asked rather diffidently for Sir Charles Stuart, explaining that, due to his carriage accident, he did not have any visiting cards to send up to him. He thought he might be refused but the lackey bowed and requested him to wait, saying that he would inform his master. Philip was not kept kicking his heels for long. A middle-aged man wearing a rather elaborate uniform arrived. He looked hard at Philip and said,

  “Yes, yes, Kirkmore? One of his sons? I was expecting your father when your name was brought to me, I’d forgotten for a moment that your sister told me about his death. Such sad news. My condolences, my boy.”

  “Thank you, sir. I am his second son. My elder brother also died last year.”

  “Dear me, two deaths only a few months apart. You resemble your father, young man, now that I look at you. I remember him well and he had not changed much when I saw him last. We were boys together, you know, it seems such a short time ago. He was younger than me, of course, and full of mischief. Always getting into trouble with the masters. I’m sorry to hear of his passing and your brother’s. Please give my sympathy to your mother.”

  “Certainly, sir,” Philip replied trying hard to reconcile the thought of a youngster ‘full of mischief’ with the dour parent he had known all his life.

  “What can I do for you, my boy?” Sir Charles asked.

  “I came to register my presence with you, sir. I’m staying with my sister Alice until my brother-in-law returns. He has recently rejoined his regiment.”

  “They called upon me a day or two ago. Good man, Edward Maitland. Not a soldier yourself?”

  “I never had the chance, sir.”

  “Going to join?”

  “Perhaps, if I can make arrangements for my present responsibilities. On that subject, sir, I wonder if you could help me...?”

  Chapter Twenty

  An hour later, with funds in his pocket, information and the address of a bishop who was currently visiting Brussels, Philip left Sir Charles. He walked north towards the Bassin des Barques, where the barges moored. Sir Charles had recommended them as the best way to convey the two ladies safely to the coast.

  “In Spain, the roads were always clogged with refugees during the fighting. Men and women, children, wagons, livestock, a whole town on the move. It was very difficult to get through. The country here is different, of course. No mountains and they have all these canals going in every direction. If I were you, I’d make enquiries there and book a passage on one of the barges for the ladies. They’re slow but they’re easily overlooked. A carriage or riders are more likely to be halted and questioned, if the French are out. Not that you will need to leave. Wellington will stop Bonaparte, you mark my words.”

  “I’m sure you’re right, sir, but I believe it’s necessary to be prudent and make provision for the unexpected. I shall enquire. My thanks for your help.”

  The barge captain, Janssen, was a tall weather-beaten man of about Philip’s own age. He was loading a cargo of grain which he intended taking to the coast in a few days’ time. He agreed to put off his journey and wait for his passengers, provided that Philip paid half the fare in advance. Philip concluded the bargain and gave him the fee he asked.

  Content to have made arrangements in case of emergency, Philip next fulfilled the hope that was dearest to his heart. He found the bishop staying at the house of a Lady Morton. He sent in his name by a supercilious butler who would have refused him if he had not handed him the note Sir Charles had thoughtfully provided. The bishop was a bluff, hearty man who looked as if he would be more at home in the hunting saddle than in the pulpit. He listened to Philip politely and enquired as to the age and circumstances of the bride. Then he wrote out the special licence which allowed a couple to marry without banns being read for the usual three weeks. Philip left him with good wishes ringing in his ears and the address of a local Protestant church where the ceremony could be performed.

  His missions complete, he hurried back to the hotel, intending to speak to Grace alone. This intention was doomed to frustration though, because, when he entered the salon, he found Benson talking to the two ladies, who had just risen from their luncheon. He brought a message to Alice. She was holding the much-crossed letter as if it was a serpent. She jumped up as soon as Philip came into the room and thrust it at him.

  “Edward has written me a letter but I can’t read it and neither can Grace. You try.”

  Obediently Philip scanned the missive but realised his sister’s difficulty. The writing was cramped and the paper was crumpled. He spread it out on the table and studied it.

  “He says he is well. How is he really, Benson?”

  “Pleased to be back with his old friends, my lord. When we arrived, the colonel took one look at Sir Edward and accepted him on the spot. Then I was sent hither and thither collecting horses and borrowing a spare uniform from the other officers. You’ll remember Lord Summerfield, my lady?” Alice nodded. “The master is sharing quarters with him.”

  “Has anything been heard of the French?” Alice asked.

  “Not that I know of, my lady. There are a lot of skirmishers out and we’ll be ready for Boney when he comes, never fear. Perhaps the master’s letter will tell you more.”

  “I’ll read it directly. Are you able to wait for a reply or do you have to go straight back?”

  “The master told me to take my time, as nothing was likely to happen before I returned.”

  “Then Philip, please see that Benson has something to eat and then help me read my letter.”

  Philip took Benson to the dining room of the hotel, ordered food and sat with him.

  “What more can you tell me, Benson, now that my sister is not here?”

  “Not much more, my lord, except that everyone is uneasy, expecting things to happen soon. They say that Boney is already on the banks of the Lys on his way here, but rumour may be wrong.”

  “Sir Edward asked me to make arrangements to take Lady Alice away if the battle goes against us. I’ve booked a passage for her on one of the canal barges which the ambassador recommended as the best means of travel.”

  “Clever of him. The roads aren’t good here, for all they’re flatter, and they are certain to become crowded.”

  “Tell Edward please, although I hope that it won’t be necessary.”

  “We all hope that, my lord.”

  Philip left him then and returned to the salon. Alice was sitting looking out of the window, the opened letter and a sealed one lying before her on the table. She smiled when she saw her brother and exclaimed,

  “Between us, Grace and I have managed to decipher most of it. Edward must have been in a great hurry, because usually his writing is very clear. He tells me that no action is expected for several days and that he is perfectly well, so I am not to worry. I have written to find out if we may drive to the camp to visit him.”

  “That’s good news and I’m glad. Benson has been telling me much the same thing.”

  “I expect you asked him all sorts of difficult questions which you would not do before me?”

  Philip grinned. “I did, but the answers were as I have told you.”

  It took Philip a little while before he managed to speak to Grace on her own, but when he did so he said,

  “My darling, after last night, I can’t wait any longer for you to become my wife. Tell me, would it grieve you very much to forgo a splendid wedding in London or in Yorkshire and marry me right away?”

  Grace gave a crow of delight. “Do yo
u mean it? Here? Now?”

  “Yes, if you do not dislike the thought.”

  She took his hand and smiled up at him. “I don’t dislike it at all. I’ve never had the chance to care about splendour or to be the centre of all eyes. Now is not the time to start and I’m sure it would embarrass me dreadfully. I told you I’m not the sort of person for you to choose as your countess as doubtless everyone will say.”

  He bent down and kissed her lips which were invitingly near.

  “I don’t care what others say. You’re exactly the type of female to be my countess. I wish for no other. I hoped you would agree. So, I have taken the liberty of calling on a bishop and obtaining a special licence which allows us to be wed without waiting for the banns. The local vicar will marry us as soon as you say the word.”

  “My goodness!” Grace sat down on the sofa. “Do you always move so fast?”

  “I do, when my happiness depends on it and yours too I hope.” Grace nodded. “Shall we go and tell my sister the good news?”

  The rest of that day passed in a flurry of arrangements. Benson was dispatched back the camp with additional message to Sir Edward, begging him to act as groomsman to his brother-in-law. Another note was sent to Sir Charles Stuart, who indicated that he would be delighted to grace the ceremony with his presence. They invited friends who had arrived in the city and the new acquaintances Alice had made during her visit. A white silk gown was borrowed for the bride and a bonnet trimmed with Brussels lace was bought. Tailors worked to give Philip’s clothes a better fit and a bouquet was obtained from one of the flower sellers.

  Grace could not stop laughing at all the confusion, so very different from the tiny country ceremony she had always imagined. But I would not have it any other way, she thought. Whatever my life becomes with Philip, it will never be boring!

  The wedding day dawned grey and cool but it did not rain. Edward and Benson arrived, having ridden from the camp and were much splashed with mud. It took all Benson’s endeavours to get his master ready in time. Philip sat with him while he dressed. He tried to calm his nerves by listening to scraps of army gossip. Apparently the rumour about the Lys had not been confirmed.

  “Napoleon is in northern France but where exactly nobody knows.”

  “What do the spies say?”

  “One says one thing, one says another.”

  Philip related the arrangements he had made to get the women out of the city and Edward approved.

  “I’ll try to send you word but nothing is certain. You must use your best judgement whether to go or stay.”

  In the meanwhile, Alice and Madeleine assisted Grace to dress. The white silk shimmered when an occasional beam of sunshine penetrated the hotel’s windows. Her hair was brushed until it shone and was piled up on top of her head. The lace bonnet was tenderly placed over her curls and the ribbons tied in a bow under her ear. Alice gave her a string of pearls and matching earrings.

  “Oh no, I can’t wear your jewellery,” Grace protested.

  “They’re not mine, you goose, but your own; our present to the bride. I searched all over Brussels yesterday to find something suitable. Do you like them?”

  “Of course I do! I’ve never possessed anything so fine in my life.”

  “Then put them on and let us see.”

  The jewels were approved and then Grace was ordered not to stir while Alice made her own toilette. She had just returned when Benson arrived with a message to say that Sir Edward and Philip on their way to the church. Grace jumped up, but Alice bade her sit down again since ‘it’s the custom for the bride to arrive late’. The next few minutes were difficult for Grace. Even wonderful things have their problems, she thought. Oh. I do hope that I have finished with adventures. I hate to keep Philip waiting and I’m longing to be married to him so much!

  When at last she arrived at the dusty church, dim with candlelight, the organ started to play. Her heart beat wildly. Seeing Philip’s smile made her want to dance down the short aisle. There was no one to give her away, so she entered alone, aware that all eyes were on her, but the only ones that mattered were Philip’s. The vicar was old and mumbled the words, so it was difficult to hear him as they gave their responses. Then they were out in the street, with the bells ringing and rose petals fluttering over them. People crowded around to offer their felicitations, most of whom she had never met before. Sir Charles wished them every happiness and Alice wept as she kissed her cheek.

  “I am so very glad to have you for my sister!” Alice whispered.

  The party returned to the hotel where a substantial nuncheon had been prepared. Music was played during the feast; many toasts were given and conversation flourished. The coming war protruded of course. Many of the guests were in uniform and they all seemed sure of the outcome, welcoming the chance to fight. How strange men are, Grace thought. She could not help being grateful that Philip was not in the army especially when she recognised the anguish in Alice’s eyes. Edward, who was nearby, followed the direction of her glance and left his companions. He said something to Alice. She rose and came over to Philip.

  “Edward tells me that he wants us to attend the Duchess of Richmond’s ball this evening. I’m sure that the Lennoxes would be pleased if you would join us. An earl and his new countess do not need to wait for an invitation.”

  Philip snorted. “Thank you, dear sister, but I have other plans for my wedding night.”

  Alice blushed as she replied, “I thought you might, and indeed it promises to be the most awful squeeze but Edward wants to go, since Wellington intends to be present. He hopes to find out more information. I doubt it, but you will have more privacy if I go too.”

  The Duchess of Richmond’s ball, a rather more elaborate affair than the usual dances which frequently took place in the city, had been talked about for days. A coach house, hung with a wallpaper of roses growing on a trellis was the chosen venue. The room had been transformed into a ballroom with mirrors, flowers and fine furnishings. Anyone who was anyone had been invited. Alice had intended to refuse as she did not want to go to such an important occasion without Edward. Philip, newly arrived in Brussels, had not been included on the guest list. As a result, Alice had made no arrangements and would have to wear a gown, hastily run up for her when she first arrived.

  “Everyone has seen it at least twice,” she grumbled.

  “You are ravishing, my sweet, as always,” Edward murmured, causing her to smile.

  Grace did not dare to look at Philip as he held Alice’s cloak for her and then wished them a pleasant evening.

  “They won’t have as pleasant a one as we will,” he said, holding out his hand to Grace. “Come, my darling, it’s time to get ready.”

  He detected a quiver in her fingers. “Not frightened, are you?”

  “No, not really... perhaps a little.”

  “No need, remember that I love you.”

  It was very late when Grace roused herself from a heavy sleep. Beside her, Philip had thrown back the bedclothes and gone to open the curtains. Moonlight turned his naked body pure white against the darkness. Grace wondered if she was very wicked to take pleasure in the sight.

  “Horsemen, galloping down the street,” he told her. “Something is happening.” There was a note she had never heard before in his voice.

  “Trouble?”

  “It looks like it. News at least, if these men are couriers.”

  “Should we get dressed?”

  “I will. You stay there. I’ll try to find out. No need to be alarmed. They could be bringing good tidings.”

  He threw his clothes on hurriedly and was gone. Grace went over to the window and looked down on a street that was quiet once again. She stayed there for some minutes, but nothing further happened. She was thoroughly awake by now and she knew she would not be able to go to sleep before Philip returned. So, she rose, put on her nightdress and threw a shawl over her shoulders. In the salon, the fire was almost dead but there was heat left in the embers
. She piled on more coal and used the bellows to blow them into life. She lit a brace of candles and picked up a discarded book. The words blurred and she allowed it to drop onto her knee. Leaning back in her chair, she thought over the tumultuous events of the last day and night. Gentle and insistent by turns, Philip had introduced her to so many new feelings. She ran her hands over her body as he had done, remembering how he had entered her, hurting her a little at first. When she cried out, he had kissed her until she relaxed. Then gently, he had entered her again. She had never realised that being with a man would be like that. So, that is how children are made! The same as animals in a farmyard. I wonder if a mare or a cow enjoys it as much as I did in the end. Perhaps I am already with child. She let her thoughts range over the possibility. A girl, I hope, who will become my friend as well as my daughter. Then as many sons as Philip wants.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Grace was dozing when she heard the outer door open and the sound of a woman sobbing. She jumped to her feet as Alice rushed into the room; her face streaked with tears. Grace ran to her and put her arms around her.

  “What is it? What’s happened?” Grace asked, easing her into a chair. “Tell me.”

  “They’re gone, all of them, Edward too.”

  “Gone where?”

  “Back to their regiments. News came in the middle of the ball that Napoleon had crossed the river Sambre and forced the Prussians out of the town of Fleurus. Edward told me that is near Charleroi and entirely too close for comfort. He had to go with the rest and there is certain to be a battle tomorrow or the next day.” Alice began to cry again. She was shivering with fright. Grace hurried to her room, stripped a blanket from the bed and put it around her sister-in-law’s shoulders. She had started to pour her a brandy when the door opened again and Philip arrived.

  “So you have heard then?” he asked, taking in the scene.