The priest said gravely, 'May I know of what I am accused?'
‘You know very well. Do not bandy words with me, sir!' Matt cried.
The priest did not react to the anger, only said again patiently, 'Yet every accused man is at least allowed to know of what he is accused.’
Coldly, Matt told him, using India's exact words as far as he remembered them. The effect on the priest was remarkable. He did not look embarrassed, ashamed, afraid, he did not cast down his eyes or beg forgiveness. He only looked at Matt with a look of extraordinary sadness, almost of pity. He seemed to consider for a long time whether to speak or not, and then at last said, 'I have nothing to say, sir.'
‘Nothing at all?'
‘Nothing.’
Matt turned away, in astonishment, anger, and unease. He picked up the pen from the table and proceeded to ruin its nib without noticing, and then flung it down and turned to face him again.
‘I do not blame you for falling in love with my wife. We needs must love the best when we see it. I do not even blame you for being so overcome as to express it. But to shew no remorse, no regret - have I not shewn you kindness?'
‘You have been a kind and just master,' the priest said, still with that terrible pity in his eye. Matt avoided the glance.
‘I have promised my wife that you shall be out of the house before she returns to it. Had you asked for mercy, I should have sent you from here with my protection. As it is, I dismiss you summarily, without wages or character. Pack your bag at once, and be gone within the hour, and do not speak to anyone in that time. And I advise you most strongly to go as far away from here as possible, and never to speak of what has happened in this house, for I am not without influence, and I shall certainly use it if I have cause.'
‘I would not grieve you more than you are already,' the priest said gently. 'I shall never speak of it, I promise you. God bless and keep you.’
And he turned and went, leaving Matt feeling strangely as if it was he that had committed the ungrateful act, and had yet been forgiven by the sandy priest.
*
India was in high spirits that evening, though Matt could see they were not natural, and that the laughter would take little pushing to tip over into tears. He tried to soothe her, and after a while insisted that she sit and sew while he played to her, and this at last broke through the artificial barriers, and made the tears come. He hastened to comfort her, and told Millicent to take her off to bed, bathe her forehead in witch-hazel, and brush her hair well to calm her. When he went to bed himself, an hour later, he found her awake and calm, her eyes puffy and her eyelashes wet. She looked like a child, and his heart was rocked with pity. He undressed and slipped into bed with her, and took her in his arms, and she snuggled against him like a child. For the first time in their marriage, he felt strong and protecting, older than her, wiser; for the first time he felt that he was in command of the situation, and not her. He comforted her without words for a while, and then kissed her, and began gently to take off her night-gown. She did not resist, but acquiesced, softly and almost sleepily, and he made love to her in great tenderness until she came shudderingly to a climax. Then he gathered her once more into his arms, cradled her head on his shoulder, and said, ‘Now sleep, my darling. I will always take care of you.' And she gave a little sigh, and he felt her smile before she drifted off into sleep as he commanded.
*
The next day India's spirits were normal again, and at breakfast she interrupted his reading of letters and newspapers to say, 'I suppose that I had better begin looking for a new chaplain tutor at once, for it might take a long time to find the right one.'
‘You look?' Matt said in astonishment. India dimpled at him lovingly across the table.
‘Dear husband, of course I shall let you interview them, for form's sake, but I must be the one to make the final decision. After all, you chose the last one, and look what happened. I am sure my judgement is sounder than yours, for you are so unworldly and good, anyone might impose upon you, as that dreadful man did. Now dearest, smile and look agreeable. You know I am right.' Matt smiled reluctantly, and she buttered another piece of bread with a jubilant smile. 'I shall go into York this very day and begin my enquiries. I am so busy, I hardly know how I shall find the time, but it shall be managed somehow. Millicent, tell Clement to order the horses immediately after breakfast. And go up now and put out my clothes. And prepare writing things - you shall take down a letter for my mother, since I shall not have time to visit her today.’
And Matt could only smile across the table at her. 'My dear, you are magnificent. Nothing daunts your spirits.'
‘Oh, I never was one to weep and mourn. What's done is done,' she said.
*
It took India a very great time to find the right man, but in January she said she thought she knew where he was to be found, and by February he was installed at Morland Place. He was twenty-five, and had had several places before, of which he had been deprived by a number of strokes of singularly bad luck. He was a well-built, well-spoken man of average height, with fair curling hair, blue eyes, and a fair, Grecian face, and he dressed in an unexpected degree of fashion considering his limited means. His name was Anthony Cole.
‘It is right that we should have a man who dresses properly,' India said, when Matt, after the first interview, expressed doubts about Cole's high-heeled boots. 'Remember he is to bring up our sons. You want them to be gentlemen, don't you?'
‘There is more to being a gentleman than dressing properly,' Matt said mildly.
‘Well, he can teach them to walk, and stand, and sit, how to enter a room, and bow, how to take off their hats - he knows all about such things, I warrant you. And how to address persons of quality, which is more than can be said of that other nasty creature,' she added, as if it were the killing stroke.
‘Yes, but he will also have to train their minds, dearest, and you have said nothing about his education.'
‘Lord, you can tell he is educated by the way he speaks,' India said impatiently.
‘But his schooling? His qualifications?'
‘I am sure he said he was at Oxford,' she said quickly. ‘In fact, I am convinced of it. Yes, I remember distinctly he said he was Christ's College and knew your cousins. In fact, I believe they shared the same tutor.’
Matt almost laughed, but suppressed it, for she could be easily angered on the subject of education, and he thought she felt deeply her own lack of it.
‘I will see him again, my love, and ask him. Now, be easy, I will not go against your choice, but I must find out that he is able to teach our boys. You would not like them to grow up like savages, would you?’
She flew to him and put her arms round his neck and rubbed her face against his. 'But when you have asked him, you will take him on, won't you?'
‘Yes, my darling, if that's what you want. Provided -'
‘Oh thank you, darling, thank you. You are the best of husbands,' she purred, pressing kisses all over his face and lips and eyes. He tried to laugh it away, but his body stirred to her as it always did, and he closed his arms about her and began to kiss her in return. She broke away after a while and said, 'Now, darling, you must not ruffle me -I have so much to do.'
‘India -'
‘No, no, not now, dear husband. What would the servants say?'
‘Damn the servants -'
‘No darling, no. Tonight. Wait for tonight.'
‘Oh. Very well then,' Matt growled. She pressed one last kiss on his forehead and danced away, Oyster running close behind, trying, as always, to press his head against her skirt. 'Tonight - you promise?'
‘Promise!' she called back as she whisked out of the door.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Despite his promise, Karellie did not spend the Christmas of 1704 in Venice, for he had received news that his friend Berwick was at St Germain with his duchess, and Karellie could not resist the opportunity to see him again. They had not been posted together since th
e previous year, for Berwick had been sent as a special envoy to the Court of Spain. Berwick had been very unhappy there, disliking the atmosphere of intrigue and the over-elaborate etiquette, and had from the first been convinced that the French ambassador was plotting to discredit him. He longed for active service and, when he was finally recalled to France, he applied for French nationality, in order to further his military career, and to improve the position of his wife and children when he was away on campaign. Queen Mary, as head of the Council of Regency, gave permission on the King's behalf, making the condition that Berwick would always put himself at the King's disposal if required, to which Berwick readily agreed.
Karellie was kindly received on his return, for he had distinguished himself in the campaigns so far. He was glad to see Berwick again, and was pleased by the Queen's kindness. His only embarrassment was on meeting his sister Aliena, for he had never been able to accept what he knew of her begetting, and all through his journey he wondered how he would feel when he came face to face with her again. He did not have long to wait to find out. The King received him in the presence chamber - he was sixteen now, a tall, slender boy with the big bones that shewed he would be taller yet. His skin was fair, his features fine like his mother's, his eyes very dark and expressive like hers, his hair light brown, inclining to fair. He was very gentle of speech, grave but not solemn ordour, very kingly in his bearing. Karellie knelt to him, feeling that here was a true king, whom it was a grace to serve.
The King said, ‘Rise up, cousin. We are very happy to have you here. Christmas is a time for families to be together, don't you think?’
It was an extremely gracious reception, and Karellie glowed inwardly with pleasure. To call him ‘cousin' was a piece of great generosity on the King's part, considering their blood relationship was an illegitimate one. But then, he had had some practice in calling Berwick 'brother' without any hint of embarrassment.
‘I am very glad to be here, Your Majesty,' Karellie said.
The King smiled and said, 'I know that you will want to greet your sister. She is walking in the gardens with the Princess, and you have our leave to go there at once. We are both very grateful to your mother for leaving her here - she has been a very dear companion to us both.'
‘Your Majesty is most gracious,' Karellie said, and inwardly he thought, that is why I am so affectionately received - because of her. He rose and made his exit, with the thought that he must suppress his unease at all costs; if the King and Princess valued Aliena so highly, he must not do less.
‘La Consolatrice', as the Princess was known, was twelve now, a pretty and vivacious young girl with her mother's large, dark eyes, and auburn lights in her brown hair that many a Court lady would have given a fortune to possess. Karellie saw her at a distance, playing some kind of game amongst the hedges of the yew walk - it looked like tag, for there was a great deal of darting here and there, and before Karellie could reach her, a flying figure ran out from the hedge beside him and bumped into him so hard he had to catch her to stop her falling.
‘Well, Mrs Nan, this is a fine way to greet a friend,' he said setting her back on her feet.
Nan stared up at him for a moment in bewilderment, and then cried, 'Oh, my lord, I did not recognize you for a moment. I beg your lordship's pardon -'
‘That's all right. It looks like a good game.'
‘I am supposed to catch her highness and my lady, but not too quickly,' Nan explained with a sly smile, 'but I dare say they will have better things to think about now. Wait here, my lord, I'll go and call them.’
But there was no need, for the Princess came out from her hiding place to see why there was no pursuit, and instantly gave up the game and put on her formal manners, and Karellie, a little touched, walked gravely towards her and made his lowest bow.
‘Your highness.'
‘My lord of Chelmsford. It is good to see you here. We have heard great things of you in the last campaign. Your sister will be glad - Aliena! Come out - there's a visitor.’
A slender figure in a dark russet cloak darted out from the hedge, and stopped dead beside the Princess. Karellie looked, and his heart seemed to stop for a moment, for around great beauty there seems a kind of stillness and silence, as if nature itself draws breath. Aliena was seventeen, and Karellie had not seen her since she had grown from childhood to womanhood. She was not tall, but her upright and graceful carriage made her seem so. Her cheeks were bright with the cold air, the breath clouded from her parted lips, her eyes seemed to reflect the curving arch of dark-blue sky, clear and sparkling sky as only midwinter or midsummer affords.
Oh, but she was beautiful. Karellie with a soldier's experience of beautiful women, with a courtier's recollection of beautiful women, with the beauties of all of Europe from Versailles to Venice for comparison, was rendered speechless by her beauty; and more even than her beauty, by the expression of her dark blue eyes, for as well as her father's looks, she had evidently inherited his gentle, tender, wise and witty character. He loved her on sight, and the visual proof of her parentage only added a sharp edge to that love, that it might cut deeper into his heart.
‘Here is your brother, Aliena,' the Princess said, with the pleased air of one bestowing a gift she knows will be welcome. 'I hope you will make him stay for a good, long time. Did you know, my lord, that there is to be such a grand ball at Versailles, the Twelfth Night ball? We have both new gowns for it, have we not, Aliena?’
Aliena smiled, and Karellie guessed that new gowns did not often come the way of this exiled Princess. It touched him, and he wished he had had the sense to bring something pretty from Venice for her. To come empty-handed seemed monstrous now - but there was time, still, before Twelfth Night.
‘The Princess's gown is of amber velvet. I promise you, my lord, that it will be worth staying to see her.’
The Princess stepped closer and tucked her hand through Aliena's arm, and said, 'I'm afraid I shall never be able to look as well as your sister, my lord. She is a true beauty.' From another princess, it would have been a blatant call for flattery, but he could see that Princess Louise-Marie was simply speaking the truth as she saw it. He opened his mouth to reply, but the Princess said, 'I am sure you will want a little time together, and so I will go in ahead of you, Aliena. Come, ladies. We shall meet again soon, my lord, at vespers.’
She gathered her women, received his bow, and left them. Aliena watched her go and said, 'That is like her, to leave us in private. Shall we walk, brother? It is too cold to stand still for long.’
Karellie offered her his arm, and they turned and strolled along the yew walk, with Nan a few paces to the rear, giving them privacy. Karellie looked down at the delicate hand resting on his sleeve, and wondered what there was to say. At last he said, 'When I went away, I left a child. Now you are a woman. I find it hard to adjust to the idea.'
‘I am just the same inside,' she said, 'I have missed you all.'
‘Tell me about your life here. Are you happy?'
‘Oh yes. It is very quiet most of the time, except when we go to Versailles or Fontainebleau. We sew a little, read, make our devotions. Sometimes we go to Chailly with the Queen. We do our lessons, of course. James - the King and I take lessons together, with some of the other young men, and afterwards I teach the Princess what I have learned. She has her own lessons, but she likes to try to keep up with us. She likes us to be together, the three of us.'
‘The three of you,' Karellie mused, smiling. 'How well that sounds! You are very fond of them both, I gather.’
Aliena looked a little puzzled. 'Fond?' It seemed a strange idea to apply to her King and his sister. 'I - belong with them,' she said, struggling for words. Karellie pressed her hand.
‘I understand,' he said, and he did, a little. 'What is the King like?’
Her face lit up. 'He is all goodness,' she said. 'He is never out of temper, or cross, or sharp-tongued, whatever happens. He is always cheerful - not quite merry, for he is rather grave
by nature, but he likes others to be merry about him. We have such wonderful talks - I believe we talk all day long. He is interested in everything you know.’
She talked on, and Karellie had no difficulty in seeing how much she loved the King. He hoped that it would not cause her grief, for sooner or later the King would have to marry. Observation would tell him how the King felt about her. It was only afterwards that he realized how quickly he had passed from feeling awkward and embarrassed at the thought of meeting her at all, to being deeply concerned that she should not be made unhappy.
*
The great ball in the Galerie des Glaces at Versailles was a magnificent occasion, as one would expect, but what impressed Karellie most was the sense of family that existed, the genuine, affectionate kindness between the French royal family and the English. And into this family, by further kindness and graciousness, he was accepted, being made to feel that he was welcome both by virtue of his blood and by virtue of his services in the army of France. The King and his young sister were the centre of attention, and in her new gown of amber velvet the Princess attracted the warm compliments of the old King Louis, who said that she reminded him of her great aunt Marie Mancini. But always, wherever the royal couple were to be found, one pace behind them was Aliena, and though her gown was an old one made over, she was more striking even than her young mistress. The King danced with his sister, and Karellie danced with Aliena, and all heads turned to watch the four young people pass up the set.
Sometimes they changed partners, and the King danced with Aliena while Karellie led out the Princess, and Karellie had the opportunity to watch his sister and gauge how the King felt about her. They were perfectly matched as dancers, and whether they were silent or conversing, Karellie had a feeling of complete trust and comfort between them. Yet it was not like man and woman, nor yet quite like brother and sister, but something in between -perhaps the accord of two young soldiers fighting side by side, the love of two perfect equals.
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