by Mary Nichols
Two-year-old Freddie, the only child who could truly call the Duchess his mother, was the apple of her eye and was just beginning to say a few words, mostly trying to repeat what Jack said, making everyone laugh. In the middle of it all, Augusta arrived with Andrew, now a manly seven-year old, and Beth who was blonde, blue-eyed and not quite five. All four children were very fond of each other and were soon chasing one another about the lofty rooms and screaming with delight.
It was into this pandemonium that James arrived and was immediately attacked. He fell to the floor, pretending they had bowled him over and they scrambled on top of him. He extracted himself to greet the ladies, but was soon crawling on all fours giving the children rides on his back and when Beth fell over under the greater exuberance of the boys, he picked her up and cuddled her, kissing away her tears.
‘He is so good with the children,’ Frances said. ‘It is about time he had some of his own.’
‘He has to find himself a wife first,’ Augusta said. ‘And though I have seen several young ladies on his arm, they have not been what you might call wife material. I do not think he is making any kind of push at all.’
‘He promised me he would do so this Season, but the weeks are flying by and he has done nothing about it.’ Frances sighed. ‘I know what I would like him to do, but—’
‘What would you like him to do?’ Lavinia had escaped the game the children were playing in order to regain her breath. ‘Have you someone in mind?’
‘If I had, I would not be so forward as to suggest it,’ the Duchess said. ‘These things must take their course.’
‘I cannot imagine James falling in love,’ Lavinia said, watching his antics. He had taken his coat and shoes off and was now teaching the boys the rudiments of sword play, dancing back and forth in stockinged feet with the poker in his hand. ‘He always seems so cool and unperturbed when in Society, though you would not think it to see him now.’
‘Oh, that is just a pose, my dear,’ her stepmother assured her. ‘James is deeper than you think and capable of strong attachment. The trouble is his reluctance to show it.’
‘I did not mean he is shallow, Mama, but is strong attachment the same as falling in love? He is, after all, strongly attached to you and Augusta and the children, even me, but that is not the same, is it?’
‘No, but I live in hope,’ Frances replied enigmatically.
James left the boys to their game and joined the ladies. He was breathless and laughing and Lavinia felt something inside her give a wild lurch as if she had been winded by a blow to the heart, but it quickly subsided and she was able to smile teasingly at him. ‘James, you are no more grown up than they are. If your friends could see you now, they would wonder what had become of the urbane exquisite they knew.’
‘My friends do not see me as an urbane exquisite, at least I hope not.’
‘Not even the ladies?’ she quizzed. ‘All those newly come-out young misses with high hopes and fixed ideas about marriage? They must see you as highly eligible.’
‘Which you are,’ Augusta put in. ‘Any young lady would be gratified to be noticed by you and overjoyed to have an offer.’
‘I do not want any young lady. My requirements are quite specific.’
‘And what are they?’ his sister asked him.
‘Oh, he wants to marry for love,’ Lavinia put in, smiling. ‘He told me so.’
He refused to smile. ‘Can you not be trusted to keep a fellow’s confidence at all, Vinny?’
She knew her teasing had gone too far and was mortified that she had embarrassed him. ‘I am sorry, James, I did not mean to put you to the blush. I will not say another word.’
‘Let us have nuncheon,’ the Duchess put in quickly. ‘Emily, take the children to Nurse and then come and join us. James, you will stay, won’t you?’
He retrieved his coat and shoes and put them on as Miss Hastings ushered the children from the room, amid loud protests. ‘Glad to, Mama, but only if the subject of my marriage is not mentioned.’
‘Very well, I will say no more and neither will Vinny, will you, dear?’
‘My lips are sealed,’ she said, as they were rejoined by Emily and trooped into the dining room together for a family meal without formality. ‘I shall talk about my play.’
‘Your play?’ James queried, as they took their places. ‘I had thought it was Shakespeare’s play.’
‘Oh, you are abominable, James. I think I shall not speak at all.’
‘Wonderful!’ he said. ‘Peace at last.’
They were silent for five minutes while a light dish of boiled eggs and anchovies in a cream sauce was served, but it did not last.
‘What is this about a play?’ Miss Hastings asked. She was a small sharp-featured woman whose looks belied her warm heart and her sentimental belief in romance, as portrayed in the novels which were the main enjoyment of her leisure hours.
‘I am going to put on A Midsummer Night’s Dream,’ Lavinia said. ‘I thought it would take people’s minds off the coronation, but now there isn’t going to be one, it will take their minds off the lack of it.’
‘We have all been bullied into taking part,’ James said.
‘Even you, my lord?’ Emily asked, eyes twinkling.
‘Yes. Lavinia wants me to be Demetrius.’
‘Will you take a part, Miss Hastings?’ Lavinia asked. ‘I need someone to play Hippolyta. She is the one who is going to marry Theseus, the Duke of Athens.’
‘Yes, I do know the play,’ the governess said, smiling gently. ‘And who is to be the Duke?’
‘Sir Percy Ponsonby.’
‘Sir Percy?’ She only just managed to stifle her laugh. ‘I cannot imagine him as an actor.’
‘No, but as he pointed out to me, he is very good at acting Sir Percy, and that will do very well.’ She paused. ‘You already know the play, Miss Hastings, so please say you will.’
‘But I am here to look after the children, Lady Lavinia.’
‘Oh, I want them to take part too, at least Jack, Andrew and Beth, if Augusta thinks she will enjoy it and not be overcome by tears. Freddie is too young, of course. Do say you agree. It is for a very good cause. The proceeds are to go to Mama’s orphans.’
‘It is not for me to agree or disagree, child. Your mama must say.’
Lavinia appealed to Frances. ‘Mama?’
Frances smiled and turned to Augusta, who had been silently listening while she ate. ‘What do you say, Gussie? Shall we humour her?’
‘I think we shall have no peace unless we do,’ Augusta said. ‘So long as I am not expected to play a part. I most certainly could not do it. And if Beth becomes upset by it, then she must not be coerced.’
‘Of course, I agree,’ Lavinia said eagerly. ‘Oh, I feel better about it already. And tomorrow we are going to have a day out on Hampstead Heath. James is organising horse racing and cricket for the men and the ladies can watch or wander about and pick wild flowers and have a picnic. Do say you will join us, Augusta. It will be heaven.’
‘Who is going?’ Augusta asked.
‘Why, just about everybody. Not Papa, perhaps, because he is still worrying about the King and Queen and whether we shall have a revolution—’
‘Oh, surely not,’ Miss Hastings said, turning pale.
‘No, of course not,’ James said. ‘Lavinia, as usual, is exaggerating.’ He smiled gently at the old lady. ‘The outing began as a friendly wager on a horse race and has developed into an exodus, but it should be enjoyable and far less hot and uncomfortable than city streets. You’ll come, won’t you, Gussie, and bring the children? I promised Andrew I would teach him to bat.’
‘Yes, why not? I’ll speak to Richard.’
‘Good, that’s settled,’ James said. ‘If you take Jack and Freddie and Miss Hastings in your carriage, Mama, I shall take Vinny. It will be too much of a squash for you otherwise.’
‘Oh, but…’ Lavinia began, thinking of Lord Wincote.
He turned to
look at her, lifting one well-defined brow. ‘Does that not meet with your approval, my lady?’
‘Yes, of course it does,’ she said quickly. ‘But can we take Misty? I should love to ride when we get there.’
‘Anything for you, my dear,’ he said, with a smile she could not quite fathom. And she wondered if he knew or guessed that Lord Wincote had asked her and he was determined to prevent her accepting the offer. ‘I shall be here at nine o’clock for an early start, and we can join up with Gussie on the way.’
He was as good as his word and arrived at Stanmore House at the appointed time next morning, driving his phaeton, with a groom in attendance riding his stallion. He had hardly jumped down when the Loscoe barouche was brought to the door from the mews and the children tumbled from the house, laughing and shouting in glee, followed by a flustered Miss Hastings carrying a bag full of things she thought the children would need—clean clothes and stockings, towels and cold drinks for the journey—although the servants had gone ahead in another coach to prepare the picnic.
When Lavinia emerged and saw James put the bag in the coach, she decided he had been right; there would certainly not be room for her as well. But she did not mind; she would be cooler and more comfortable in the phaeton and, with a little luck, James might even allow her to take the ribbons for a spell.
As Tom Bagshott trotted round the corner on Misty, James turned to her, smiling cheerfully. ‘Ready?’
She settled herself into the seat, drawing her skirt about her feet so that he could shut the door, and by that time the Duchess had come from the house and climbed in the barouche. The two carriages set off at a sedate pace for Upper Brook Street where the Harnham carriage joined them, and then they turned up Park Lane into Oxford Street, which reminded her of the day the mob had nearly bowled her over and she hoped the Queen would not decide to venture forth at that moment. But it was, perhaps, too early in the day for that, and Oxford Street was no busier than usual.
By this time several more coaches had joined the cavalcade, including Lord Wincote in his phaeton. His eyebrows lifted a little on seeing her with James, but he smiled and bowed and fell in behind them.
‘You are quiet, Vinny,’ James said after they had safely negotiated the traffic of Oxford Street and turned to skirt Regent’s Park with its new, imposing villas spreading inexorably northwards.
‘Am I?’ She was acutely aware of Edmund behind them and knew he was watching them. Did he think she had deliberately refused his offer in order to accept James’s? ‘It is just that Lord Wincote offered to take me today and I told him I would ride with Mama.’
‘Very wise of you, my dear,’ he said, his heart lifting a little.
‘But I am not with Mama, I am with you.’
‘And very glad I am, too.’ He turned to look at her. She was wearing a forest-green habit which emphasised her neat figure, with a full skirt that was suitable for both riding and walking. However, it was not her clothes which claimed his attention but her face. She looked concerned, her usually bright eyes clouded. ‘What is it that troubles you, my love?’
She turned sharply at this endearment and then, confused by his expression, looked away again. ‘Nothing is troubling me, except what he will think.’
‘Do you care what he thinks?’
‘Of course I do. I do not want him to think I am a dissembler and deliberately turned him down for you.’
‘Shame on you,’ he said, but he was smiling at the thought.
‘But I didn’t. You know I didn’t.’
‘Yes, I do know.’ He sighed. ‘If he cares for you at all, he will understand.’
‘Oh, do you think so? Shall I tell him how it came about?’
‘No, Vinny, I do not think you should. He will believe it matters to you and that might give him too much encouragement.’
‘You do not think I should encourage him?’
He longed to cease talking about the man and put his own case forward, but until she was in a more receptive frame of mind, he could not. ‘I do not think he needs much encouragement, do you?’
‘No, I suppose not.’
‘How do you feel about him, Vinny? Really feel, I mean.’
‘Oh, James, I do not know. He has a way of looking at me that makes me shiver from top to toe and then I do not feel in control of my own body and he says the most flattering things—’ She stopped suddenly.
He could have yelled with frustrated anger, but forced himself to sound calm. ‘There is a but?’
‘I suppose there must be, or I would not be so muddled.’
‘Then my advice is to wait until you are no longer muddled, but sure of yourself.’
‘Supposing he does not want to wait?’
‘Why should he not?’ he asked sharply.
‘He might be impatient.’
‘Good heavens! Surely he has not already declared himself?’
‘Well, not directly, but he has hinted…’
‘Then you must be deaf to his hints.’
‘Why, James? Why?’
‘I am not sure I am the right person to ask, Vinny.’
‘Why not? Because you are a man?’
His smile was almost a grimace of pain, as he answered, ‘That is one reason. The other is that I am too close to you. I could not be objective.’
She did not understand what he meant; if by being close, he meant he knew her very well, surely that made it easier for him to be objective? ‘I collect you do not like Lord Wincote.’
‘I do not know him. And neither do you, not properly. An outing or two, a compliment, a way of insinuating himself into our circle of friends and becoming popular is not enough. Marriage is for life, Vinny, it needs careful consideration, but most of all it needs certainty on the part of both and from what you say, I think you are far from certain.’ He paused, then smiled. ‘Now, I think I have lectured you long enough on the subject. Shall you like to drive now that we are out of town?’
She brightened at once. ‘Oh, yes, please.’
As soon as the road widened enough to allow another vehicle to pass, he pulled up and handed her the reins. A minute later they were bowling along Finchley Road, all thoughts of Lord Wincote almost eradicated, even though he had refrained from passing them when they stopped and was still bringing up the rear.
They were in the country now, the houses no longer crowded together as they were in London, but spaced out, with fields and meadows about them, and here and there were farms nestling in the protection of tall elms. Once they were passed by a mail coach, its guard blowing on his yard of tin to announce its arrival at the next staging post, and once she had to pull up and wait as a herd of cows trod their sedate way to Smithfield, kept in check by a drover and his dog.
Before they turned off the main road on to a small lane which led over the Heath, James took control again and in another few minutes they found the coach in which the servants had travelled. They all tumbled out of their respective carriages and walked about to stretch their legs and greet acquaintances. They were on slightly rising ground, dotted with bushes and briars and an odd hawthorn tree here and there, but otherwise wide open grassland.
The children were highly excited and in danger of rushing off and getting lost, so Lavinia hurried to organise them, leaving James to find Donald Greenaway and Sir Percy, who had undertaken to decide on and mark out the course for the racing. ‘What would you like to do first?’ she asked them, as Frances scooped Freddie up to keep him safely with her.
‘Fly our kite,’ Jack said.
‘Play cricket,’ Andrew said.
‘I want to play cricket, too,’ Beth said.
‘I believe Uncle James will arrange the cricket when he has finished talking to Major Greenaway,’ Lavinia said. ‘So shall we fly the kite first?’
Jack ran to fetch it from the coach and gave it to Lavinia to unravel its long tail and lay out the twine. She handed the stick with the ball of twine to Andrew, who ran as fast as his young legs could take him
but was not big enough to get it airborne.
‘Allow me,’ Lord Wincote said, taking the kite from the boy, who looked surprised and a little resentful. ‘I will have it airborne in a trice and then you may take over.’ He smiled at Lavinia, who stood holding Beth by the hand.
She watched him pulling at the string and saw the kite begin to rise until it was high above their heads, then he gave the string back. ‘There, keep it into the wind, boy, and it will stay up for hours.’ Then he strolled over to Lavinia. ‘My lady.’
‘Good morning, my lord. It is a lovely day.’
‘Yes, indeed it is, but it would have been lovelier if you had been beside me on the journey.’
‘I am sorry, my lord. We did not know the children were coming and there would be no room for me in Mama’s coach.’
‘Then perhaps you will return with me.’
‘I must ask Mama.’
‘Then I shall await her decision.’
‘Oh, dear, the kite has come down,’ she said, looking away from him to the group of children who had run some way from them. ‘I must go and help.’
She set off, walking quickly, but if she thought she had dismissed him, she was mistaken, for he easily kept up with her and they reached the children together. ‘Jack’s turn now,’ she said.
Edmund retrieved the kite and set it going again, this time giving the string to Jack. Again Lavinia stood and watched as the boy set off. He was more competent than Andrew and kept the kite airborne longer, as he ran along, whooping with glee, followed by Andrew, Lavinia and Edmund, who was carrying Beth. Because of the direction of the wind, they were going farther and farther from the main party and by the time Lavinia became aware of it, they were completely out of sight.
She stopped and looked about her. There was nothing to be seen but heath and sky with a few tiny white clouds, the only sound was her own laboured breathing and the voices of the children. Edmund stopped beside her and set Beth on her feet.
