CHAPTER ONE #2
The Honourable Gerald Ashling, the youngest of the brothers, had gone into the army, and beyond letters home and a period of furlough to recuperate following a wound at Salamanca, he had been on the periphery of the family 13for well over a decade.
He had joined Wellington’s ‘family’, the group of staff officers about the Great Man, following Napoleon’s escape from Elba.
Before his departure he gave Wimborne very precise instructions about what to do with the accumulation of pay, of which he had spent but little.
In the course of the war in the Peninsula, he had come into contact with Mr Nathan Rothschild, whose efforts had ensured the army was paid.
He pressed Wimborne to keep the closest of eyes upon what Mr Rothschild did and to do the same, however risky it might appear.
Thus, when everyone was selling out of Funds upon rumour of an Allied defeat in Belgium, Wimborne, desperately unhappy, and with the bankers telling him he was mad, followed the Rothschild example and bought stock.
Waterloo thus made Gerald Ashling considerably wealthier, but he did not live to enjoy the fruits of his acumen.
Gravely wounded upon the field of battle, he lingered some three weeks before expiring, and left all his worldly goods to his niece, Elizabeth Cecilia Ashling, to be held in trust until her twenty-fifth birthday or her marriage, by his eldest brother, William, and Josiah Wimborne.
In the space of little over a year, Elizabeth had been hopeful debutante, penniless relative, and then, if not an heiress, at least the possessor of a very respectable competence.
She had begged her aunt not to make her go to London for her second Season, and in view of the impossibility of her achieving any marriage, that lady had acquiesced and permitted her to remain in Sussex.
With the recovery of her fortune there was pressure brought to bear upon her to return to London for the 1816 Season, 14Lady Chalford being keen to have her niece off her hands before Amelia’s come-out, but Elizabeth, still haunted by the idea that she would be an object of pity and hushed, behind-the-hand conversations, withstood every entreaty and even command.
She had neither the intention nor wish to marry, she said, and would rather learn more about the management of her estate from Frimley, the Marden land agent, so that upon coming of age, she could live in peace and quiet at Dowlands, with some suitable female companion.
This Season, however, Amelia was to make her bow to Polite Society, and Lady Chalford was determined that Elizabeth should not remain behind.
‘Think, my dear, how odd it would appear. It would be said that your uncle and I were behaving very shabbily towards you.’
‘But if it was made clear, Aunt …’
‘In what manner? Would you take out an advertisement in the pages of the Morning Post? Believe me, Elizabeth, what you ask is not possible. I understand, truthfully I do, your reluctance, however little I may like your future plans, but you are still underage and in your uncle’s care, and so this Season you will be with us in Mount Street. ’
Elizabeth had, perforce, to submit, and if she did not look tonight like a young woman delighted to re-enter society, she had, her aunt noted approvingly, the good breeding not to exhibit any missish behaviour.
The clock struck the hour, Lord Chalford emerged from the library just in time to wish the ladies of his household a pleasant evening and crack a mild jest, before the front door was 15opened and a breath of cool evening air reached them as they descended the steps to the waiting carriage.
Amelia was silent during the short journey, but fidgeted.
Lady Chalford had been careful in her selection of parties through which she might ease her daughter into Polite Society.
She was confident Amelia would not be overawed, but the ball at Devonshire House was going to be the first ‘squeeze’ of the Season, and she might be forgiven her agitation.
Elizabeth sat composedly, and watched her cousin with sympathy.
Elizabeth withdrew into herself, and though she smiled and curtseyed prettily as they were presented to their hostess, she felt remarkably hollow and alone.
However, she revived a few minutes later as she heard the announcement of the Earl and Countess of Godmanchester.
Lady Godmanchester had been, three years ago, Miss Turville, and Elizabeth’s closest friend among the debutantes.
She had made a very good match, and whilst circumstances, including her ladyship’s presenting her lord with a son and heir shortly after their first anniversary, had precluded their meeting, they had remained frequent correspondents.
She entered the brightly lit room on her husband’s arm, looking much as Elizabeth remembered her, and when she caught her friend’s eye she greeted Elizabeth affectionately.
‘How nice to see you at last, Elizabeth. Do tell me we can enjoy a comfortable chat later on. Oh, but do not let it be too late, for Godmanchester will not let me tire myself, and will drag me home unconscionably early.’ Her voice dropped to a whisper.
‘I have discovered I am increasing 16again, which annoyingly means a curtailed Season for me, and he is most careful of my health.’ She turned and smiled at her husband, and Elizabeth realised with a start that the swift glance they exchanged spoke volumes.
He did look inordinately proud and solicitous.
‘I shall be sure to do so, Helen. You will not be dancing, I take it?’
Lady Godmanchester pulled a face. ‘Alas no, upon strict instruction. Though I do see it is sensible. It is bound to be a cause of speculation among the tabbies. I shall need your company very much, stuck as I will be among the mamas and dowagers.’
With which she passed on, and Elizabeth schooled her features into polite interest once more.
It was something over an hour later when she found her friend seated upon a sofa, fanning herself gently.
‘You are not feeling faint, are you?’ Elizabeth looked suddenly worried. She had no experience of ladies in expectation of a happy event.
‘Just a trifle hot. It is nothing. Lucius Radstock has just gone to find me some lemonade, but you can be sure he will return with Godmanchester. I said nothing, but he is frighteningly acute, and they are close friends. Even if it were only the heat he would fetch him to me, but, oh, trust him to guess at something more.’ She blushed, and her eyes misted slightly.
‘Though it might be he has guessed from Godmanchester’s demeanour.
Bless him, he is so pleased.’ She sighed and took Elizabeth’s hand.
‘I only wish I could see you as happy as I am, my dear friend.’
‘I think you found the best of men, Helen. I doubt I 17could be as fortunate, and if not, then I am happier single.’
‘Do not say so, please. To think of you hiding yourself away in Sussex …’
‘Hiding? No such thing! Were I but older it would be easy. I admit that at present the thought of having to have a companion and oh, all the constraints, is irksome, but far more irksome it would be to be wed to some man or other without real love. And that is rare. You are very fortunate.’
‘I am. He is such a dear. Overprotective, of course, at the moment, but …’
‘Well, even I would not deny a man the right to feel so in such circumstances.’
‘Even you?’
‘Ah.’ A dimple peeped in Elizabeth’s cheek. ‘I would prefer to deny men everything, but …’
‘Your lemonade, my lady.’
Elizabeth flushed and half turned, looking over her shoulder. Sir Lucius Radstock presented the glass to Lady Godmanchester, and she wondered if he had overheard her. If he had done so he gave no sign, and Elizabeth heaved a sigh of relief.
‘I took it upon myself to tell Godmanchester that you were a trifle indisposed,’ the grey eyes held far too much understanding, ‘and he will be here … Ah, now.’
‘My love?’ Godmanchester’s handsome face wore a frown of concern.
‘My lord, really. It is nothing, except that the warmth of the room became a little oppressive. I beg you will not look so, nor whisk me away on the instant, for it would be as well to announce everything in the newspaper, and I 18shall have no peace from the busybody mamas with their sovereign remedies and recommendations from now until I have to retire from Society.’
‘Not immediately then, but soon.’ He smiled, but the worry remained in the hazel eyes.
‘Oh.’ Lady Godmanchester put her hand to her lips. ‘How imprudent of me. Sir Lucius, I beg of you …’
Sir Lucius bowed. ‘Not imprudent, my lady, since I had already surmised, and you may be sure I shall not reveal anything, especially to any, er, “busybody mamas”. My felicitations, to you both.’ He acknowledged his friend with the briefest of touches upon the arm.
‘And now I find myself somewhat de trop and will go in search of something rather stronger than lemonade. Ladies.’
With a bow and a smile he turned, and Elizabeth watched his tall form weave its way between the guests until lost from view.
‘Good fellow, Lucius,’ remarked Godmanchester, a little gruffly. ‘Now, my love. If you are perfectly sure you are not unwell I will, most reluctantly, leave you, but be advised I shall return within the half hour and bear you off home.’ He lifted his wife’s hand to his lips and kissed it.
‘My lord, what will people say?’ She coloured.
‘That I adore my wife, which is perfectly true. Half an hour, my dear, no longer.’ He smiled at her, spoke a few words to Elizabeth, and withdrew.
‘You see how fortunate I am, Elizabeth?’ Lady Godmanchester blinked away a tear.
‘When he offered for me I could not claim to have had more than a slight tendre for him, a predisposition towards him, perhaps. But then, 19I did not know him, the private “him”, you understand. But oh, before the end even of the honeymoon, my feelings for him were as strong as his for me. Forgive me. I am emotional. You must put it down to my delicate situation. There, I am quite composed again.’
‘What need for apology?’ Elizabeth patted her hand. ‘Indeed, it is I who should apologise, for I have not congratulated you, which was remiss, though I hope you knew it, even unspoken.’
‘Of course I did. You know, perhaps one reason I felt unwell was lack of food. I am really not able to take more than a dry, sweet biscuit in the morning, and my appetite today was wayward, but I did see that there were spiced apple tartlets. Shall we go and see if there are any remaining, and then I will return here quietly to await my lord.’
Lady Godmanchester took her friend’s arm and they made their way to where various delicacies had been set out, the fair head of the countess contrasting with Elizabeth’s own dark locks.
Lady Godmanchester laid her head against her husband’s broad shoulder in the darkness of the carriage, letting her fingers entwine with his, and sighed.
‘I am sorry if I seemed dictatorial, my dear.’ He spoke gently, and breathed in the fragrance of the perfume in her hair.
‘No, no. I was ready to leave, I promise you, but I was so glad to be with Elizabeth again. I asked her to visit me tomorrow afternoon. I told her I wished she might be as happy as I am, though I doubt that is possible.’
20‘Say that again.’
‘I am so happy, blissfully happy, Giles.’ She sighed again, and he turned slightly to kiss her.
‘My love.’
She murmured something unintelligible, and her hand touched his cheek.
What she had meant was not just that nobody could be as happy as they were, though it was true, but that she thought that Elizabeth was refusing to admit the possibility of such happiness.
Thinking about it tonight was too difficult, so she let herself drift, secure in her own deep contentment, until the carriage drew up at her own door.