Donald took a cool leave of the brother and sister and followed her. So that was the scapegrace, he said. I thought he was out of the country.
So did I.
You had no idea he was back?
None at all. Why should I have? And it is of no consequence.
You are sure?
Yes. The man is a stranger to me now. I hardly recognised him. She told herself that was true. Her so-called love had been nothing more than the infatuation of youth and youth had flown. Tell me about Coprise Manor.
You mean to come, then?
She could feel two pairs of eyes boring into her back and sat ramrod straight. Of course, if Papa agrees.
Who is that fellow? Harry demanded of his sister as they watched them ride away.
A mushroom, she said. A countryman up for the Season in search of a wife.
Jane?
She nodded. They have been seen about town together every day for the last two weeks and I believe she is about to announce her engagement to him. She would not be going to Coprise otherwise. It is his country home in Norfolk.
Oh.
Harry, you should have come back sooner.
He grimaced as they walked their horses forward, careful not to catch up with the two in front. I was not in a position to come and go as I pleased and what good would it have done? She has not forgiven me. You could see she hardly knew how to be civil, not even to you, and you are her friend. Besides, we have both moved on; there is nothing at all between us now.
Liar!
Childhood love rarely survives into adulthood, you know. He chuckled. And I took rather longer than most to grow up.
But you have grown up, Harry. You are not the stripling that went away two years ago.
No, thank God.
What have you been doing? He had turned up on the doorstep two weeks before, soon after Janes last visit, bone weary, filthy and recovering from a wound to his thigh that had given him a limp. In that two weeks he had slept and slept, eaten like a hungry wolf, and slowly mended. Today had been his first outing. And they had to run into Jane, of all people.
He smiled, a crooked kind of smile because of the scar. I told you, fighting for King and Country. There is nothing like a few bullets and cannon balls flying around to make a boy into a man.
But you resigned your commission.
So I did. But there are other ways to serve. The army is not so particular about those they take into the ranks. I enlisted as a private soldier and was lucky enough to be taken into the 95th. It was a very salutary experience, I can tell you, but I made a good rifleman.
It must have been terrible. I cannot think why you did it.
I had something to prove, Sis. And it was not so bad. There was hardship, of course, and danger too, but there was also comradeship, a pulling together and sharing whatever you have with each other, rations, clothes, food, jests, even women.
Is it not like that among officers?
Not quite. They are too concerned about their position in the chain of command. A lieutenants position as the lowest of the low is only surpassed by that of an ensign, who is truly a nobody. A major looks down on a captain and a colonel can have no friends, being at the top of the regimental pyramid, so to speak. His is a lonely life and I do not envy him.
I collect, when you first had your colours, you said you would come back a colonel.
That was the boy speaking, not the man.
Looking back, he could not believe what a sousecrown he had been. The adoration of his sister and Jane had swelled his vanity to gigantic proportions. He had been hail-fellow-well-met at his college, had done very little work, learned to gamble and fallen into debt. But wasnt that the way of all young bloods? His grandfather had put down the dust, but there had been strings attached. The lieutenancy had been thrust under his nose and an ultimatum delivered. He had accepted it with gratitude.
Even then his good intentions had been trammelled underfoot as soon as he arrived in London. Living in the capital had been expensive, with regimentals to buy, a pair of horses to keep, his mess bills and a servant to maintain. It became even more so when he became engaged to Jane and there were parties almost every night, balls and routs to attend, presents to buy for her. He wanted to be the grand suitor, the generous lover, the husband and provider. He could not be that while he was a mere lieutenant, kicking his heels on home ground.
When Clarence Garfitt had told him about Mrs Clarke, he had hesitated, but Clarence, who was a captain and always knew everything that was going on, had assured him that was how many men obtained preferment. Nothing was said against it because to do so would involve the Duke of York and of course no one would dare risk that. What a gull he had been! The whole scandal had come to light and his name became publicly known as one of those officers who had offered a bribe. Jane had been furious and he had compounded his villainy in her eyes by blustering and trying to excuse himself. Everyone does it, he had said. I did it for us, so that we could marry. It is not the end of the world.
But Jane was Jane. Seventeen years old, motherless and with a father who saw and heard nothing that did not relate to his work, she was far from worldly-wise and had been shocked to discover that such people as Mrs Clarke existednot only existed, but were condoned so long as they never complained. Jane was appalled and outraged to think that her affianced husband had visited the house of such a one. To her everything must be either black or white; she would not admit to shades of grey. He had resigned his commission and taken himself out of her sight.
But you did become an officer, Anne said, breaking in on his thoughts. You are a captain.
Promoted in the field. My company commander received a mortal wound and there was no one else to take charge. Luckily for me, my conduct was noticed; I was mentioned in the colonels report and the captaincy was confirmed. Later they were looking for someone who could speak French and I volunteered. I had to question French prisoners and deserters, and that led to using their information to obtain more.
He had volunteered to go behind the enemy lines to follow up a piece of information he had been given. It had been risky and exciting, but he had welcomed the danger, learned to survive, met some extraordinary people and emerged alive, but wounded. Making his way back to his own lines just outside Pombala, he had been skirting round a French bivouac when he was seen and challenged. He had been within half a mile of his own comrades and as he carried important intelligence, there was nothing to do but fight his way out of trouble. He had taken a ball in the thigh, but luckily for him they were in dense woodland and he was able to conceal himself in thick under-growth until the bigger battle started. With pandemonium around him, he had managed to crawl to safety and deliver his intelligence. But the wound had put a painful end to his military career.
What are you going to do now? Anne asked him. You are not fit to return to duty.
No, mores the pity, I would have liked to see it to the end. I must find something to occupy myself.
Will you go to see Grandpapa?
Will he receive me?
Of course he will! When you tell him what you have done, that you have been wounded in the service of your country and been mentioned in dispatches, he will be as proud as a turkeycock. You have redeemed yourself and he will welcome you back into the family. You will be able to take up your proper position as his heir.
No, mores the pity, I would have liked to see it to the end. I must find something to occupy myself.
Will you go to see Grandpapa?
Will he receive me?
Of course he will! When you tell him what you have done, that you have been wounded in the service of your country and been mentioned in dispatches, he will be as proud as a turkeycock. You have redeemed yourself and he will welcome you back into the family. You will be able to take up your proper position as his heir.
Not yet. I put my old life behind me when I enlisted. I cannot go back to it. I think I will go into business.
Business? she repeated, shocked. You dont mean trade?
He smiled, knowing she was only reflecting the attitude of their own social class. Why not? I have not quite made up my mind what, or how I can bring it about, but it must be something worthwhile.
Grandfather wont like that. You are a gentleman born and bred and one day you will be the Earl of Bostock and take over the estate.
That does not mean I cannot be some use in the world before that happens, does it? I have learned to stand on my own feet while I have been away and I found I liked it.
And Jane? The pair ahead of them had disappeared through the gates on to Piccadilly, merging in with the traffic on that busy thoroughfare.
Ah, Jane, he said, thinking back to their encounter not five minutes before. She was no longer the hoyden of their childhood, not even the pretty young débutante to whom he had become engaged. She was another being entirely, a fully fledged woman. The new Jane had looked splendid in that riding habit, her womanly curves in all the right places, and that fetching hat had set off her thick hair to perfection. Sitting straight in the saddle, her gloved hands on her reins, perfectly composed, she had shown nothing of the Jane he had known and loved. She had outgrown him. I fear I am too late on that score, Sis.
Fustian! She still loves you.
I do not believe it. The Jane I knew would not encourage another man when her heart was elsewhere. She would be too honest.
Two years is a long time, Harry. I believe she has been coerced. You must do something.
Anne, even if I were to wish it, which I do not admit to, I could not step in now. What would that do to my reputation and hers too? I have done enough damage to the Hemingford name already. If I were to step into another mans engagement, all that other business would be dragged up again and I would be branded an unmitigated bounder. He reached out and patted her hand. Thank you for trying, my dear, but I, too, have moved on.
Oh, Harry, I am so sorry. I love you both so much.
And you may still love us both. That has not changed. And I thank God for it. Now, do you think we can make a little more haste, I came out without my breakfast and I am gut-foundered.
They rode home in silence but, for all his cheerful countenance, his heart was heavy. Had he really expected Jane to recognise the new man and be ready and willing to forgive and forget and take him back? It was the thought of redeeming himself in her eyes that had kept him going, been with him through the long watches of the night when he had been cold and wet; it had been with him on endless marches when he had been almost roasted alive. It had sustained him when he had been living among his countrys enemies and helped him safely back to his comrades when his mission had been accomplished. The vision of her face had helped him to survive that long night hiding in a ditch with a bullet in his leg. When he had been praised for his daring by none other than Old Douro himself and mentioned in his dispatches, it was of Janes good opinion he had been thinking. All for nothing!
They dismounted outside Bostock House and left the horses with a groom before going indoors. The house had been bought by the first Earl when Cavendish Square was an isolated residential area in the countryside north of London. He had chosen it for its proximity to the capital and its fresh air. Now it was part of the metropolis, an old house in the middle of new. It had not even been modernized, because the Earl had not visited London since his son, the twins father, had died. Most of the year it remained empty and was only opened up when Anne came to town for the Season. If Harry had his way, it would be sold. The ground it stood on must surely be worth a fortune with the way London was spreading northwards and the Regent clamouring to have a new road built from his residence at Carlton House to Regents Park.
When are you going home to Sutton Park? she asked him, as they entered.
He grinned. Do you want to be rid of me?
No, you know I do not. I have seen nothing of you for two years and there is no hurry, is there? I am going back myself in a week or two, we could go together.
You think I might need protection from Grandpapa? He laughed as they climbed the stairs to their respective rooms. You are probably right at that. You could always turn him round your thumb.
Gammon!
He stopped outside her room and put out a hand to stroke her cheek. Dear Sis, always looking after her wayward brother. I do appreciate it, you know.
I know. Will you take me to the theatre tonight? That is, if you are not too fatigued.
I will gladly take you, if my evening coat still fits me, but have you no beau dangling after you?
Oh, Harry, do not be so foolish, I am long past marriageable age.
Humbug! I think I will find you a husband while I am in town. In fact, it is my duty.
It is not! You look to your own affairs, Harry Hemingford.
He knew she meant Jane, but that was entirely out of the question.
Not for a minute did he think that agreeing to take his sister to the theatre would have such a profound effect on his mind and heart. Jane was there with her new love, sitting in the box opposite theirs, accompanied by an elderly lady in a hideous mauve-and-lilac striped round gown, whom he recognised as her great-aunt. And he knew with a certainty that almost unmanned him that he had been lying when he said he had moved on.
Jane was in amber silk, almost the same colour as the highlights in her hair. It heightened the creaminess of her shoulders and neck, the softness of her complexion and the brilliance of her eyes. Looking through his opera glass, he could see her quite clearly. She appeared to be watching the stage, but he was sure she had also seen him and was looking away on purpose. Was she afraid he might see what was written in those eyes? He had known her since she was a small child, knew her every mood, had seen her eyes full of mischief, teasing, laughing, crying and furious with indignation. He had seen them sad and he had seen them happy. He could not make himself believe she was happy now. And he could do nothing to remedy it. He had forfeited the right.
Jane knew perfectly well she was being watched. She had seen Anne and her brother take their seats before the curtain rose and, though she had turned to talk to Donald while the rest of the audience filled the theatre and, when the performance began, had concentrated on watching the stage, she was aware of Harrys scrutiny. He had no right to look at her like that, no right to make her feel discomfited. She made herself angry; it was the only way she could go on.
She was still angry when the intermission brought the curtain down and everyone began moving about, waving to friends in other parts of the theatre, visiting other boxes. It made her a little sharp with Donald when he asked her if she would like some refreshment, but she immediately regretted it and smiled sweetly at him. A cordial would be very nice, please. It is warm in here, is it not?