Chapter Eight #2
The weather continues to blaze - my idea of a perfect summer.
I love the heat, though my mother and sister complain privately that their corsets give them great discomfort, and they sit indoors as much as they can, or in the shade when in the gardens.
I’ve been giving growing up a lot of thought, and am much relieved that I am in a position to hold off on the duties of adulthood for a couple of years more.
The very idea of being bound by such undergarments is enough to make me starve myself in an attempt to preserve a child-like figure.
Though it cannot be denied, I see small changes happening in my body, and Cassy has told me of many more to come that I do not wish to think about.
She assures me all will be well, but if I think about what it means to become a woman I want to run away and hide.
Please God, let me be spared - perhaps I will discover this is all a bad dream, and I will wake up to find I am a boy, after all, and be invited into the private world of my brothers.
How I wish I could go to sea with Francis, or be a redcoat, as I know Henry wishes to be.
Even becoming a clergyman like Jemmy would be better than sewing shirts for the rest of my life.
Yet, in my heart, I confess that the brother I most envy is Edward.
He is the most fortunate of all and I would only ever admit to envy in this diary of mine.
To be adopted by our rich relations and taken across the world on a Grand Tour of all the places I’ve ever wished to see and study is a fate not even heroes in novels can dream about.
I have often wished they might adopt me too, but the Knights do not need a daughter, an encumbrance to marry off to the highest bidder.
No, they’ve only ever had eyes for Neddy, the most charming child that ever lived, grown to be the perfect gentleman and an heir to fulfil all their hopes.
We’ve not had any visitors today so Lucius and Thomas have taken up all our time - the former continues to stare at my sister, and the latter seems to have little reason to entertain us except a desire to please Great-Uncle Francis.
But he’s a very kind and thoughtful cousin too.
When Thomas suggested we go to the stables to see his new chestnut hunter, a present from G-U-F, my sister declined.
I have a feeling she does not want to leave our mother’s side, and as Lucius hangs around Cassy at all times, I suppose my mother thinks they will do as well to get to know one another as she chaperones.
Nobody much cares what I do, and it’s clear our father trusts Thomas to look after me.
We headed off for the stables as soon as we could, running across the flagstones of the formal terrace, and crunching along a gravel path on the far side of the house where only the gardeners and the stable boys go.
There was nobody attending the horses when we got there, but Thomas just took charge and led me inside, the interior dark after the bright sunshine.
‘Allegro, my boy,’ he called, and the horse whinnied in response from the furthest stall.
‘He’s excited to see us,’ said Thomas, ‘look, see how he grins? That’s why I named him Allegro, he’s always cheerful and keen to be out riding.’
Allegro snorted and bared his teeth, just as if he was smiling.
He was so huge I could not imagine touching, let alone riding such a creature, but Thomas told me not to be afraid.
I half hid behind him until he coaxed me out.
Not having very much experience with horses, I was determined to show I was not afraid, and put out my hand to stroke his mane.
‘Do you want to ride him?’ Thomas asked.
‘Oh, I couldn’t,’ I said without thinking and was instantly cross that I’d shown him how timid I could be. ‘He’s too big for me too ride, I think.’
‘Not at all, I shall help you, if you like. Mind you, I’ve no lady’s saddle, and you might not approve of that.’
‘The truth is I’m not an experienced rider, indeed, I’ve not really had any.’
‘Then we must change all that. We shall come out every day, and I will show you how it’s done. Do you trust me?’
I looked at his face, at the firm determined chin, and at his eyes, blue and clear as the summer sky, looking back with a steady gaze. ‘Yes, I do.’
He led the horse outside, placed a set of wooden steps at its side, and stood holding the reins. ‘Come on; don’t be afraid … I’ll help you. Hold the reins in your left hand, and put your foot in the stirrup.’
I didn’t feel ready, and I hesitated, but I didn’t want him to think I was timid or that I didn’t have faith in him.
I held on tight, and put up my left foot, and the next minute I felt his hands on my waist easing me up, whilst I struggled to get my other leg over the saddle, being hampered by my dress and the layers of fabric.
But, at last I eased into the saddle, my heart thumping as I realised how high I was above the ground.
‘Don’t worry, I won’t let go,’ he said, taking charge once more, and we walked sedately along in the sunshine, and down the path, and I soon began to enjoy the rhythm of the movement.
From my seat on high I could see over the garden wall to the delicious shade of the broad avenue of limes, and beyond to the formal parterres laid out in geometric patterns, as far down to the red brick wall at the end where espaliered apple trees were already glowing with scented fruit.
An iron gate in the middle of the wall separated the formal gardens from the wilder landscape where a few deer could be seen beyond grazing in one of the meadows.
At the end of the path we traversed was a wooden gate for the servants, and once through it, we were out into green fields bordered by hedgerows and trees with thicker woodland in the distance.
‘Knole House lies beyond the woods,’ Thomas said following my gaze, ‘a house as grand as ever I saw.’
I looked into the distance and thought about the house and its illustrious past. I’d heard it talked about by my parents, and I wondered about its present owner, the third Duke of Dorset. I knew my great-uncle Frank was his trusted aide.
‘I should like to see inside it and learn about its history,’ I said.
‘I’ve been many times with my grandfather, and Mrs Edwards always spoils me,’ added Thomas, ‘though these days I don’t have as much fun as when Wang-y-Tong lived in the house.’
‘What an unusual name, it sounds like a bell clanging.’
‘Wang-y-Tong came from China, and became a pageboy at Knole for a while when he wasn’t at school.
He was almost twice my age, but he always found time to play with me when I was visiting Grandfather in the summer holidays.
The Duke adopted him, but he’s gone to find his fortune in his own country now. ’
‘I should love to visit China,’ I said. ‘Are there trees, do you think, like the ones on our dinner plates at home? Imagine sitting in a Chinese garden full of pretty willows looking across the lake from a pavilion or fishing from a wooden bridge.’
‘I couldn’t really say I know enough about the landscape, though Wang-y-Tong always spoke of his country with great pride.’
‘Do you think he liked being in England?’
‘I’m sure he did … he said he was fascinated by all he learned, though he missed China very much in the end.’
‘I am sure I should be homesick too if I were anywhere I didn’t know for too long. I love being at home in Steventon.’
‘Would you like to see the house … Knole? I could show you the portrait Mr Joshua Reynolds painted of Wang-y-Tong. You can see from his face what a fine fellow he is … and he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, as he always did in the clothes of his people, with red satin shoes on his feet.’
‘I should very much like to see it, and the other paintings in the Duke’s collection. My mother told me there are paintings by Mr Humphry too - we know his brother - our friends the Reverend and Mrs Humphry at Seal.’
‘Yes, Ozias Humphry is a great friend of the duke and Grandfather too, of course, though he told me that the duke was cross with Ozias, in the first instance, for repeatedly begging the living of Seal for his brother. He had promised it, and given his word, and did not like to be reminded of it, but Ozias got his way in time. I am sure you know that he painted the portrait of Grandfather that hangs above the mantelpiece in the dining room.’
‘Yes, it is an excellent painting, and a true likeness. I remember my brother Henry telling me about it when he returned after a visit to Sevenoaks several years ago. He said my great-uncle Frank was dressed usually in plain grey, but that in his portrait his coat was edged in gold lace.’
‘Fancy him recalling that. I believe the duke commissioned it, though I don’t think it’s ever been hung at Knole - but they are very fond of one another, the duke and my grandfather.
I’m sure nobody would mind if we went up there one day, and Mrs Edwards would let us in and take us round, if you’d like that.
I don’t think the duke is likely to be there - when he’s not in Paris acting as ambassador, he has matters to engage him in London, and Madame Baccelli keeps to her rooms in the tower. ’
‘Who is Madame Baccelli?’ I asked.
Thomas looked very thoughtful for a moment. ‘She’s a friend of the duke.’
‘And she has rooms at Knole? She must be a very special friend.’
‘She is, indeed.’
Thomas fell silent then, and let out the leading rein further encouraging the horse to trot. He ran alongside, as I looked into the distance to see if I could catch a glimpse of the great house, but the woods dividing my uncle’s estate from those belonging to Knole were very large and dense.
‘I am fascinated to see the house,’ I said, as we slowed down at last. My heart was thumping hard with the exertion, but I didn’t feel frightened any more. I felt I could do anything; achieve all that I wished with a new confidence.
‘But, you must promise me one thing, Miss Jane.’