Chapter Sixteen
Jane
Sevenoaks, Kent
No sooner was it suggested than we were both sitting astride Allegro and sharing the reins.
Out into the fields we rode, the sun beating down on our heads.
Thomas held me tight with one arm, and shook the reins with the other.
I felt secure; his arm felt strong, the muscles underneath his shirt taut as he held me close.
I liked the clean smell of him, a mixture of hay and green grass, along with a hint of something else - sandalwood perhaps, in a splash of cologne or from a scented washball.
Once across open grassland we galloped fast, and I felt the bonnet on my head fall, the ribbons threatening to come undone.
‘Leave it,’ he shouted, as I struggled to tie it up again. ‘If it falls off we’ll collect it on the way back.’
The ribbons came undone, and I felt the straw bonnet start to slide before being lifted into the air by a sudden gust. I saw it blown along by the breeze until it came to a stop by a grassy tuft.
I tried not to think what Mama would say, though as I become bolder in my thoughts I couldn’t stop giggling.
The sense of freedom was wonderful. On we sped, Allegro stepping neatly, flying through the air like a dancer, and when I glanced back, the house was a small pale box, insignificant and far away, dwarfed by indigo trees touched with gold.
We slowed down as we approached the woods, and after trotting through dense woodland where the scent of the dark earth was damp and fragrant, at last we saw the boundary wall.
‘It’s just a little further along,’ Thomas said, coming to a standstill. ‘Let us dismount; Allegro will be happy enough to graze on the grass, and take a drink from the pond. We’ll go on foot from here.’
Thomas secured Allegro to a tree, and we watched him drink greedily. We both made a fuss of him before we left to find our way through the ferns and bracken. Keeping close to the wall, we found the gate at last, and Thomas produced a great iron key from his bag. For the first time, I felt fearful.
‘I do not think we should unlock the gate, cousin,’ I said. ‘What if someone should see us … poachers are hanged for trespassing.’
‘Do not worry, Jane. There will be nobody at the house except Madame, and she will not be stirring from her rooms. Besides, when Mrs Edwards sees me, she will ask why we have not been to see her before. I promise you, I have friends here.’
***
On the other side of the gate the majestic oaks and chestnuts made green canopies above our heads.
We were in an enchanted kingdom where time stood still.
If Queen Elizabeth had come upon us then I would not have been surprised, and I thought of Robert Dudley, her favourite, and could picture him on a horse, his stiff, pleated ruff above the collar of his cloak, flying back behind him as he galloped through his lands.
The landscape opened up a little, and at the side of a dewpond like a polished mirror, my cousin threw down his coat on a grassy hillock, inviting me to sit, whilst he perched on the edge of a moss-covered stone.
We were in a perfect spot, with shade from a group of towering oaks.
I had the strangest feeling we were being observed, as we sat, and was conscious of sounds at a distance through the trees; twigs snapping, rustling in the grass, birds chirping above our heads.
Thomas took out his bottle and the plum cake wrapped in a large linen square, and spread it out, taking a knife to cut it up.
I hadn’t realised how hungry I felt, but the riding and being out in the fresh air had given me an appetite.
‘Tell me about Madame Baccelli, Thomas,’ I dared to ask once we were settled.
He offered me a drink, and I put the bottle to my lips.
I liked the taste - it was like drinking the very essence of pine trees, and I felt it coursing through my veins, both invigorating and yet quickly dulling my senses at the same time.
Almost instantly I felt light-headed, and I did not think I should drink too much of the potent liquid.
I took another bite of the cake, and that seemed to help.
‘Giovanni Baccelli, or Jannette, as the duke calls her, is his mistress - and the mother of his son who lives in Paris. Are you shocked?’
‘I suppose I am, though it is harder to be shocked about the behaviour of someone you don’t know. Do you not think the duke will marry her one day?’
‘I doubt it, Jane. If she had money there might be a small possibility, but he will choose someone from one of the best families who will bring her own riches. La Baccelli is not of his class, nor does she possess a fortune, and I daresay, he will look for a more suitable bride when the time comes. A gentleman of his status would not consider someone so beneath him for a wife.’
‘But, that’s a despicable way to think and behave. And what about the child? What will happen if he is not made legitimate?’
‘I am not certain your parents would like me discussing such matters with you, Jane. You are very young to be knowledgeable about such terrible dealings.’
‘Why, because I’m a girl? You are only a few months older than me. What can be so terrible that I should be sheltered from the facts? Surely all young women should know about such men if they are to protect themselves.’
Thomas fell silent for a moment. ‘Then I’ll begin at the beginning - promise me you will not tell your parents I have talked to you.’
‘I promise.’
‘La Baccelli, to call her by her stage name, is a famous ballet dancer from Venice who started life from humble beginnings. She trained under the French ballet masters and made her debut in the character of the Rose in Les Ballets des Fleurs at the King’s Theatre in Haymarket where she caught the eye of the duke. ’
‘So he pursued her and they fell in love.’
‘Yes … though everyone knows that the duke has an eye for the ladies, and she must have known he had other lovers. I know the child is well treated … he’s educated and cared for, but even so, he will never be recognised as the duke’s heir.’
‘That is shocking, indeed. Though I wonder if La Baccelli thinks the duke might marry her eventually, especially if she hasn’t complained about the other lovers.’
‘He certainly favours her, financially, as well as socially. Everyone knows her and all society follow La Baccelli’s every move …
wanting to know how she styles her hair and what she wears.
Last year, she caused a great scandal at the Paris Opera when she wore the duke’s Order of the Garter round her forehead, a blue bandeau inscribed, ironically, with the words, Honi soit qui mal y pense …
Shame be to him who thinks ill of it. I think she thought she might get a firmer footing on the ladder to matrimony when she moved into Knole, but I know of no marriage settlement and I am certain my grandfather would know if such a plan existed. ’
‘What is she like? Have you ever met her?’
‘She is very beautiful, and very genteel, though she has never spoken to me for more than a minute or two. I know La Baccelli was very kind to Wang-y-Tong, and treated him like a son of her own. Her servants have taken over the house, but the duke does not spend much time here lately. He’s in Paris and busy being ambassador there most of the time, and lately, when he comes back to England, he seems to spend much time in London. ’
‘With which particular friend … the Duchess of Devonshire, Lady Foster or Lady Derby?’
‘How do you know about them?’
‘I heard my parents discussing the ladies with my uncle.’
‘No women can resist him, it’s true … he’s softly spoken, extremely handsome, and utterly heartless, which is what all women seem to like.’
‘I should never let a gentleman treat me in such a fashion,’ I declared. ‘I should take great pleasure in showing such a proud, disagreeable man that I am not easily charmed by mere riches, position or even good looks.’
Thomas laughed. ‘I should like to see it, dear Jane, and am certain you would do all women credit.’
‘Sadly, I shall never get the chance to put him in his place.’
‘No, we do not exactly move in the same circles even if Grandfather is trusted with so much. Well, the aristocracy are a law unto themselves, and above the law when it comes to true justice. They do not really concern themselves with the likes of us.’
‘So what will happen to La Baccelli and her child, do you think?’
‘I’ve heard his former mistresses are paid off … I daresay she’ll get a house and be financially secure, and live out her days in relative obscurity.’
‘I suppose it could be worse … at least she’ll have her independence. Perhaps it is better to be a mistress than it is to be a wife, after all.’
‘Jane, you shock me with such outrageous thinking, though I am sure you are probably right in many ways. Most women like her lose their place in society, and I daresay she’ll be no exception.
She is tolerated to some extent now, but La Baccelli will no longer be feted or sought after once the duke moves on. ’
‘It is intolerable to be a woman … life deals us such a poor hand. Oh, Thomas, how I wish I’d been born a man.’
‘I do not think you will always think that way. And there must be some benefits the fairer sex has over man.’
‘If there are, I cannot think of them precisely. I should like to earn my living - and there is hardly an occupation for a woman where that is at all possible.’
‘What would you do if you were free to do anything?’
Thomas was looking at me so seriously I knew he would listen and not make fun of me.
‘I should be a great writer. I would like to write novels, but it is not considered seemly for a lady to pen a book. I have written a few pieces for the amusement of my family, but I long to write a full length work.’
‘I think you capable of anything you would like to do,’ said Thomas. ‘Do not give up your dream, Jane. Perhaps by the time you are of an age, lady writers will be commonplace.’
Next to Henry and Cassy, Thomas is fast becoming my favourite person.