Джорджетт Хейер - A Civil Contract

“Nothing has been changed there,” Adam replied,

“I’m glad. Your mama was used to complain that it was become shabby, but it was so beautiful! I loved it, and should weep to see it made smart.” She raised her eyes to his face. “Is it agreeable to be very wealthy?”

“I am not very wealthy.”

“No? Well, the wealth may be Jenny’s, but your life is very luxurious, isn’t it? It must be pleasant to have everything you want, I suppose.”

He stared at her for a moment, but said at last, evenly enough: “I suppose so — if it were possible.”

She again raised her eyes, and he saw the tears in them. “Everything that can be bought. They say happiness can be bought. I had not thought so, but I don’t know. Are you happy, Adam?”

“How can you ask me such a question?” he said. “You must know — ” He stopped, and looked away from her.

“I want to know. You seem happy. And I wonder if, perhaps — ” She broke off, a tiny frown on her brow. “I may be married myself soon,” she said abruptly. “Shall you care for that?”

It was like a blow over the heart, but he had schooled himself to withstand it, and he replied: “Yes. But I shall wish you very happy. There’s nothing else left to us but to wish each other well, is there? Who — Or must I not ask?”

“Why not? It’s Rockhill, of course.”

“Rockhill?” he repeated incredulously. “You’re not serious? A man old enough to have been your father, and one, moreover, who — You can’t mean it!”

She smiled rather mournfully. “If you could marry a fortune, why should not I?” she asked.

“The case is different! You know why I — ” he checked himself.

“Oh, yes, I know! But did you think I had fallen in love? Could you think so?”

“Not that! But — O God, I don’t know! Only that every feeling revolts — !”

“Does it? Every feeling revolted in me once, but I didn’t tell you so.” He could not answer her, and she said in a softer tone: “Don’t mind it! I mean to try if I can’t be a little happy. He’s charming, you know, and when I’m with him I feel — oh, peaceful! No, not quite that — I can’t explain! But he loves me, and I must be loved! I can’t live if I’m not loved!”

They were interrupted. Mr Oversley exclaimed that he could hear cheering in the distance, and adjured his parents to come to the window directly. All was bustle at once, and Adam had time to recover himself while everyone’s attention was distracted. As he performed his duties, arranging his guests suitably in the windows, no one would have guessed that beneath his smiling calm a tumult of emotion was raging. Julia’s words had been knife-thrusts; he winced under them, and was startled to recognize in the medley of rage, jealousy, and hopeless desire, resentment. The thought flashed through his mind that she might have spared him. It was gone in a moment, yielding to remorse, and an aching pity. Though he had been the victim of circumstance he was the author of her unhappiness, and that she was unhappy he could not doubt: she had spoken them in a whisper, but her last words had been a cry; and in her lovely face had been a look that was almost distraught.

“Here they come!” Lydia’s voice broke in on his painful thoughts. “Oh, how dashing! Adam, what are they? Which regiment?”

He was standing behind her, and leaned forward to look down at the escort. “Light Dragoons,” he replied, adding, as his eyes took in the buff facings on the blue uniforms: “The Eleventh — the Cherry Pickers!”

She began to demand an explanation of this nickname, but broke off as the first of the seven carnages carrying the officers of the Regent’s household followed the escort. In identifying these personages Brough was found to be more knowledgeable than Adam, who was able to relax his attention again. Mrs Usselby was positive she had recognized General Platoff amongst the foreign generals, but admitted, after argument, that she must have been mistaken, since the Tsar’s procession, coming from the Pulteney Hotel, would follow the Regent’s.

The state carriages bearing the Royal Dukes followed the generals. Adam glanced towards the other window, to be sure that everyone was enjoying a good view. His eyes fell on his wife’s face. She was standing, like himself, behind her guests, and never had she looked plainer. There were spots of high colour on her cheekbones, but under them she was sallow, a trifle hagged. He looked away, unable to bear the comparison with Julia, seated quite close to her.

The Speaker’s coach had passed, and the carriages bearing the members of the Cabinet. A troop of Horse Guards came next, preceding the Regent’s officers of state, and the foreign suites. As these carriages went slowly past a slight movement to his right made Adam turn his head just in time to see Jenny going unobtrusively out of the room, her handkerchief pressed to her lips. He hesitated; and then, remembering that he had several times thought that she was looking dragged and weary, he withdrew quietly from the window, and followed her.

She had gone into the back-parlour, and had sunk into a chair there. Here eyes lifted as he entered; she removed the handkerchief from her mouth to say faintly: “It’s nothing! I shall be better directly — pray go back! Don’t say anything about this!”

He shut the door, looking at her in concern. “You are ill, Jenny: what is it?”

“I was overcome by the heat. Oh, do go back! I shall come in a minute,”

“I’ll see if Lady Oversley has any smelling-salts. You don’t carry them, I know!”

“No! I don’t need them, and I don’t wish anyone to know!”

“But — ”

Her chest heaved. “I don’t feel faint. I feel sick!” This unromantic disclosure made him smile, but it was with real compassion that he said: “My poor dear!”

“It’s nothing!” she repeated.

He went back into the other room, to collect a bottle of champagne from the wine-cooler. Nearly all his guests had their attention fixed on the eight cream horses drawing the Regent’s state carriage, but Lady Oversley looked round as he came into the room, and came to him, whispering: “Is Jenny unwell? Shall I go to her?”

He replied beneath his breath: “Just a trifle overcome by the heat. Don’t heed it! She can’t bear that anyone should know, and be made uncomfortable.”

She appreciated this. “To be sure! Tell her she may depend on me to turn it off, if — anyone should remark on her absence. Take my salts! You’ll fetch me, if you should need me.”

Thus armed, he returned to the other parlour. Jenny was leaning back in her hair with her eyes closed, but she opened them when he held the vinaigrette under her nose, and said angrily: “Where had you that? I most particularly asked you not to tell anyone!”

“Stop ripping up at me, little shrew! I had it from Lady Oversley, and all I told her was that you were overcome by the heat. I was obliged to do so, because she had seen you slip away.”

She subsided, and took the vinaigrette from him, sniffing, and saying crossly: “Such stuff! Me to be languishing over a bottle of smelling-salts! Now, don’t go opening that champagne, for I don’t want it! I’m better, and there’s no need for any commotion on my account!”

He thought she looked far from well, but he merely said, as he eased the cork out of the bottle and poured the frothing wine into a glass: “Try if my cordial doesn’t make you feel a degree stouter! Come, Jenny! — to please me!”

The coaxing note brought a tinge of colour back into her cheeks; she received the glass from him in a hand that shook slightly, and said in her gruffest voice: “Thank you! You’re very good!”

He waited until she had drunk some of the wine, and had begun to recover her complexion, and then said: “Now tell me, Jenny, what’s the matter? You’ve been out of sorts lately, haven’t you? Have you been trotting too hard?”

“No, of course I haven’t!”

“Then what is it?”

She cast him a goaded look. “If you must know, I’m increasing!” she said baldly.

It had not occurred to him that she might be pregnant, and surprise held him silent, just staring at her. She said defensively: “Well,  it was only what was to be expected, after all! I mean I’m breeding, you know.”

His lips quivered. “Yes, I understand that, but — I beg your pardon, but really, Jenny — !”

“I don’t see what there is to laugh at,” she said, eyeing him in resentful bewilderment. “I thought you would be glad!”

“Yes, yes, of course I am! But to fling it at me like that, and at such a moment — !” His voice shook, but he controlled it, saying contritely: “I’m sorry — don’t look so affronted! I won’t laugh at you any more! But what’s to be done? You goose, to have come on such an expedition as this! How the devil am I to get you home?”

She sat up, replying with something like her usual briskness: “You’ll get me home when the show’s over, and not before, thank you! I’m better now. I told you there was no need for you to be in a worry, and nor there is. It’s no more than natural I should have sick turns, though I must own it quite takes the edge off one’s pleasure!”

He gave a tiny gasp. “I imagine it must!” he said unsteadily. “Poor, poor Jenny!”

“Yes, I can see you think it’s highly diverting!” she retorted.

“No, I don’t — it’s you I think highly diverting, not your sickness, I promise you! Are you sure you are well enough to remain here? I wish you had told me before ever we arranged this party!”

“Fiddle!” she said, getting up, and straightening her shoulders. “I’m in a capital way now. For goodness’ sake, don’t get into a taking, Adam, for there’s nothing wrong with me, and if there’s one thing I can’t bear it’s setting people in a bustle, and having them fidgeting round me, as if I was going into a decline! And mind, now! not a word to Papa!”