Sussex Summer Page 4
“Good afternoon, Miss Hampton,” he said. “Dawkins told me I would find you here with my mother. I hope your sister is feeling well today?”
As Jane thanked him for his concern and assured him of her sister’s health, Edward looked at her with renewed admiration, enjoying the charming picture his young neighbor made in her simple muslin frock and gypsy hat. Her robustly healthy good looks were very appealing to him after so many months of being in hospital.
Lady Tremaine offered her son some tea, but he declined. “I have had a sufficiency of coffee,” he admitted, “and could not drink another drop of any liquid. Good coffee was rare in hospital,” he explained, “and I used to dream of its aroma and flavour.
“I wished to ask if I might accompany you on your way home, Miss Hampton,” Edward continued. “I am on my way to Staplefield myself, to the tailor’s, and I should be very glad of your company. Jamie tells me my appearance at the table quite puts him off his food, and much though it goes against me to agree with him about anything to do with dress, I must concede his point,” he confessed, looking down at himself with a comical expression of distaste.
Jane and Lady Tremaine laughed, and Jane gladly accepted his company. She finished her tea and, after thanking Lady Tremaine again for the book, departed in company with the captain.
They began the walk to the village in a companionable silence, enjoying the peaceful sounds of the birds and the occasional breeze that rustled the leaves of the trees. Then Jane, unable to resist teasing her escort, asked, “Tell me, Captain Tremaine, why are you walking to the village? Is aught amiss with Ariel?”
Edward gave a shout of laughter. “I see you think I have been bested by my horse, Miss Hampton. But I assure you that is not the case. I walk because it is efficacious to do so.”
Then his voice became serious. “Truly, Miss Hampton, every step I take I marvel anew that I am able to walk. There was a time I thought never to walk again. During the march to Corunna—” He broke off, glancing at Jane apologetically.
Jane halted and, looking sincerely into the captain’s eyes, said, “There is no need to hesitate to speak of your hardships to me, Captain Tremaine. I am a former vicar’s daughter, and know well the healing power of speech. Moreover, I am truly interested.”
Edward said nothing for a moment, thinking. It would be good to speak of his experiences in Spain to someone. So far he had told no one. He did not speak of them to his parents for fear of distressing them, and Jamie was bored by any conversation that did not centre upon dress. Besides, it simply wasn’t done to speak of one’s misfortunes. Would it do to unburden himself to the young daughter of a clergyman? He had become accustomed to discussing many subjects with Miss Hampton during his morning visits. Was this any different? He felt a surge of warmth toward Jane and impulsively took her hand, pressing it warmly. This must be what it was like to have a sister, to have someone truly concerned for your well-being.
“Thank you, Miss Hampton,” he said, and, making his decision, began to speak as he slowly resumed their walk down the road, retaining Jane’s hand in his.
“Our problems on the Peninsula began before we even embarked for Spain,” Edward began, “Castlereagh had directed that we be sent without equipment or food, trusting that we would find both once we got there. We were supposed to aid the Spanish in repulsing the French at Burgos, but by the time we arrived, the French already held Burgos, and the Spanish had lost their will to fight. Sir John Moore, our commander, had no choice but to take on the French army virtually unaided. Sir John knew that it would be wisest to leave Spain under the circumstances, but he also knew that the truth of the situation would never be believed in England. He feared also that leaving would destroy what little remained of the Spanish morale.”
Edward stopped speaking a moment, marshalling his thoughts in order to explain the remainder of the story to Jane in terms she could understand, and Jane pressed his hand encouragingly.
“So we stayed on. Sir John decided to divert the French by striking at Valladolid, drawing them away from Madrid and giving the Spanish an opportunity to regain lost ground. It worked—Napoleon came after us with his full strength, and Sir John, having drawn him successfully away from Madrid, began to retreat to Corunna, hoping to save the army.
“That was when things began to go wrong. Our only hope was to stay ahead of the French forces. They were much greater than our own, as well as better equipped and fed. But many of our officers did not see that. They resented not being allowed to stand and fight. We were so short of food that some of the men began to plunder the villages on the way. I never was more ashamed to be an Englishman! They—” Edward broke off, remembering to whom he spoke. There were things he could not tell her, vicar’s daughter notwithstanding. His eyes looked bleak as he remembered how some of the men, wild with hunger and pain, had rolled huge casks of raw liquor onto the streets of a Spanish village, staving them with their bayonets and wallowing in the spirits as they ran down the streets. The atrocities which followed this undisciplined riot were unspeakable. With an effort he pulled himself back to the present.
“They were not all like that. The troops in the rear, those whom Sir John had trained himself, never lost their self-discipline and courage, no matter how hard they were pressed by the French. Convinced we would soon be destroyed, Napoleon left Soult to pursue us alone. We kept ahead of them by marching day and night through the snow-covered mountains. Many of our men died from exhaustion, and the rest of us were without shoes and stockings, our bleeding feet wrapped in rags, our bodies eaten with vermin. But we made it to Corunna, only to find—” and here Edward laughed bitterly “—that the troop transports were not there!”
He paused again, reliving the despair that had temporarily overwhelmed them all at the realisation that for all their courage, sacrifice and loyalty, they would not get away before the French came upon them.
“By the time the transports arrived, the French had us surrounded, and we were forced to fight from a very bad position. But here at least the men redeemed themselves and fought so bravely that we held the French off and were finally able to embark, but unfortunately without Sir John—he had been killed the day before.”
Jane had listened to Edward’s recital carefully, filling in details where she could, realising that he had left out parts which he considered unfit for her ears.
“You thought a great deal of Sir John Moore, did you not?” Jane asked gently.
“Yes. He was the finest man and greatest soldier I have ever known,” Edward said simply.
They had reached the outskirts of the village now, and walked on in silence. As was proper, Edward dropped her hand, and the close companionship it had symbolized was missed by both of them. Passing the tailor’s—which had been his original destination—Edward accompanied Jane to her cottage gate.
“Thank you for listening, Miss Hampton. You were correct, a burden is easier to bear when it is shared, although I had little right to place it upon you.”
“Listening is the least I could do, Captain Tremaine,” Jane said, thinking of the burden those memories would be for him the rest of his life.
“Good day then, and thank you,” Edward said. “I shall call again soon.”
Edward smiled at Jane affectionately before turning to walk back to the tailor’s, thinking of his new friend with pleasure. Befriending a young woman such as Miss Hampton seemed to justify all the suffering of the campaign. It was for those such as her that he had fought the menace of Bonaparte.
Jane entered the cottage with a musing half smile on her lips. Her instinctive liking for Captain Tremaine was fast blossoming into something stronger, and now she felt she had evidence he felt the same. Surely he did, or he would not have held her hand and smiled at her in such a way. Bemused, Jane entered the drawing room to give Fanny the book from Lady Tremaine.
“Was that Captain Tremaine who walked with you to the gate?” Fanny asked after thanking Jane for collecting the book.
“Jane, you are not developing a tendre for Captain Tremaine, are you?” Fanny questioned, closely inspecting her sister’s expression. “You have only known him this past fortnight.”
“Do not be ridiculous, Fanny, of course I am not,” Jane denied, but she felt her cheeks flush at the untruth. She bent down to hide them, ostensibly to pet Thomas, who rubbed against her skirts demanding attention.
Fanny, her intuition heightened by her own sufferings, knew her sister was evading the truth. She did not open the new book in her hand, but thought instead about her sister’s suddenly pink cheeks and what they meant.
Chapter Four
It was not many days later when Fanny sought her sister out in the kitchen where she and Mrs. Reid were discussing what food purchases to make for the week.
“Lady Tremaine must have persuaded Lord Tremaine to call upon the new earl,” Fanny informed them, looking at a card in her hand. “We have received an invitation to dinner Friday.”
“Did a servant bring it to the door?” asked Mrs. Reid, fearing she had been remiss in her duties.
“I was sitting outside in the garden when the footman brought the invitation, so I took it,” Fanny explained.
Jane thought that Fanny going outside without encouragement was a good sign. Her sister’s attitude had improved greatly since the calls from Edward and Lady Tremaine, and her health had improved correspondingly.
“Lady Tremaine writes they will send a carriage for us at half-past five,” Fanny continued.
“That was thoughtful,” Jane commented. The Hamptons’ gig would not seat three comfortably and its ride was rough. The carriage ride would be much easier on Fanny.
Fanny walked slowly up and down the room and then stopped before Jane and Mrs. Reid.
“I know I cannot escape attending the dinner, but I wish I might. Or that Jamie would not be there!” she suddenly burst out.
“If you wish your betrothal to appear to die a natural death, you must face Jamie soon,” Jane said practically. “And the sooner you face it the sooner it will be over.”
“Miss Hampton is right,” Mrs. Reid agreed. “And we all have your best interests at heart. I have no doubt that once this business is settled you will make a more complete recovery.”
“Besides, if being the centre of attention is your concern, I collect that everyone’s interest will be upon the new earl at the dinner,” Jane said soothingly. “No doubt Lady Tremaine planned it that way.”
“I am certain you are correct,” Fanny agreed, “but that does not make it any easier.” She walked over to the window and looked at her dim reflection in the glass. A waiflike figure with huge eyes looked back. “How I wish I did not have to face him appearing as I do,” she said forlornly.
Jane had no doubt who the “him” referred to was, and her heart ached to see her formerly high-spirited younger sister so cast down. Jane turned from her list-making and tried to view Fanny dispassionately. She was still too thin, but her skin had regained its healthy colour, and Fanny’s eyes appeared large and luminous. Jane felt she would look quite unexceptional if properly gowned, possibly even pretty, but that was small solace to a young girl who had been an undoubted Beauty.
“Do you still have that blue silk, Miss Fanny?” Mrs. Reid asked abruptly.
Surprised, Fanny turned away from her reflection in the glass. “Yes, it is in my wardrobe.”
Mrs. Reid pushed her chair away from the table and stood up. “Come upstairs and try it on. You come too, Miss Hampton.”
Mystified, Jane and Fanny followed Mrs. Reid upstairs to Fanny’s bedchamber. Mrs. Reid pulled the gown off the wardrobe shelf and shook it out, her face expressing her satisfaction with what she saw.
“Come, let me help you into it, Miss Fanny,” Mrs. Reid coaxed.
As Mrs. Reid assisted Fanny into the gown, Jane watched in mystification. It was only an ordinary gown, one consisting of a white silk underdress with an ice-blue silk overdress trimmed in silver. The gown hung loosely on Fanny, making her look like a child dressed in her mother’s clothes, but Mrs. Reid seemed undeterred. She took a packet of pins from her housewife and began pinning the gown to fit.
Jane sat on a stool at the foot of Fanny’s bed, watching interestedly. In a few minutes she realised what Mrs. Reid had envisioned. If Fanny’s frail appearance were emphasised rather than disguised, her looks were greatly enhanced. The ice-blue colour against Fanny’s translucent skin gave her an almost ethereal appearance. She looked quite beautiful, if not in the same style as before.
Mrs. Reid finished her pinning and stood back to view the results with satisfaction.
“If you would help me, Miss Hampton, we could alter the gown to fit by Friday. We have four days.”
“You should have been a modiste,” Jane said admiringly. “Look in the glass, Fanny.”
Fanny slowly turned to view herself in the gilt-framed mirror, her expression hopeful, yet hesitant. For a moment Fanny’s face lit with a smile, but it vanished as she noticed what Jane and Mrs. Reid had forgotten.
“But my hair,” Fanny wailed. She pulled off her cap and stood dejectedly with her short wispy mouse-coloured hair lying flat against her skull. It quite destroyed the fairylike appearance she had presented moments before.
Jane stood and approached Fanny, fingering her sister’s short hair thoughtfully. Although it was of a silky fine texture, she understood why Fanny felt it was far inferior to the long silver-fair hair she had had before her illness.
“It is still short, Fan, but I think it is long enough to curl,” Jane said reflectively. “We cannot do anything about the colour, but if I were to use the iron to curl it and make a garland of roses to place in it, I think your hair will look acceptable.”
“The very thing,” Mrs. Reid agreed. “Don’t you worry, Miss Fanny. We’ll have you look a treat for the dinner.”
Fanny shook her head doubtfully at her reflection, but obediently stood still as her elder sister and Mrs. Reid finished pinning and measuring for the alterations.
The day before his mother’s dinner, Edward determined to speak to James about the situation with Miss Fanny Hampton. He had not yet dared to do so, fearing that he would not be able to hold on to his temper, for as he had come to know Fanny, he deplored his brother’s shabby treatment of her more than ever. He could not imagine deserting such a fine young girl simply because a fever had temporarily robbed her of her beauty. His parents had been much too lenient on his brother regarding the matter, Edward felt.
As he expected, Edward found Jamie in his dressing room, absorbed in studying his reflection in a glass. Edward entered without knocking.
“James, I wish to speak to you,” he said sternly.
“Can’t it wait? I’m not finished dressing,” Jamie said, frowning into the mirror with intense concentration as he tied his cerulean blue neckcloth. His valet stood nearby with two more carefully pressed neckcloths ready in the event Jamie were to make an error tying the first.
“No, it cannot wait, and what I have to say would be better said privately,” Edward insisted.
“Very well,” James agreed sulkily, giving his neckcloth a final pull. “You may go, Blake.
“What is it?” Jamie enquired as the valet left the dressing room for the bedchamber, closing the connecting door behind him.
“It is about Miss Fanny Hampton,” Edward replied, going to stand before the mirror and looking grimly into Jamie’s face. Jamie apparently had no intention of facing his brother unless he were forced to do so.
Jamie’s sulkiness increased. “Wondered if you’d been told. You needn’t prose at me about it. Father already did.”
“I am pleased to hear it. Nevertheless, I am also warning you. You had best remember that as far as our neighbours are concerned, you are still betrothed to Miss Fanny Hampton. I expect you to behave as though you are.”
“I shall,” Jami
e agreed grumpily, side-stepping Edward so he could once again see his reflection in the glass. He gave the neckcloth a final crease. ”Although what people will think when they see me playing up to such a fright I don’t know,” he said in an aggrieved tone. “I don’t like it above half.”
Edward’s temper got the better of him at this churlish remark, and he grabbed hold of his brother by his freshly tied cravat, pulling it tightly about Jamie’s neck, his anger giving him unexpected strength.
“How can you have such a callous attitude toward a girl you supposedly loved? Or was it only her beauty you cared for?” Edward demanded. “You needn’t reply—the answer is only too obvious. But if you do not dance attendance upon her tomorrow night, you will answer to me.”
Edward gave the neckcloth a final twist and let go. Jamie rubbed his neck and breathed deeply.
“I say, no reason to become violent. You’ve ruined my cravat. I had it tied in a perfect Oriental. I’ll have to start over,” he whined, carefully putting distance between himself and his brother as he sidled toward the door to his bedchamber and opened it.
“Don’t fear, I’ll do the pretty,” he called as he jumped through the doorway and slammed the door behind him.
Edward shook his head in disgust as he left the room. What a coxcomb Jamie was turning out to be. What had happened to the wild but charming young schoolboy of five years past?
Friday was upon the Hamptons before they knew it. Jane and Mrs. Reid had worked steadily on refurbishing the gown for Fanny, and their work was rewarded that evening when they viewed the final results. Jane had embroidered a band of white roses around the hem of the ice-blue overdress and tied the long sleeves with new white silk ribbons. A garland of white roses lay in the soft curls Mrs. Reid had coaxed into Fanny’s darkened but still fair hair, white satin slippers encased her tiny feet, and a blue-and-white fan trimmed in silver dangled at her waist. It was true Fanny did not have the spectacular beauty she had had before, but Jane felt the almost fairylike picture her sister now presented was nothing to be despised.