The Darcy Cousins (33 page)

Georgiana did not know what to make of this. It was all too new and strange. Just a few months ago, she would never have thought it possible. Now--well, it was far too early. And besides, nothing had occurred between her and Gatley at all that would indicate that he was thinking of such a possibility. Certainly he seemed to admire her, but she had thought the same of Channing, and she had been very much mistaken.

She pushed aside these thoughts. She did not have to make any decisions now, nor did she want to second guess Gatley regarding his feelings. She would take her time and let matters unfold as they would.

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Chapter 24

I spoke to Mr Albert Parvis," said Darcy a few days later, peering into the upstairs parlour and finding Georgiana sewing quietly. "He was incensed to find out that his son was using his father's position in the company to attract the attentions of respectable young ladies. He was even more alarmed to realise his daughter was one of the party. He apologised profusely for what happened, and promised me that his son's actions would not pass unnoticed. I left the meeting quite certain that his son and daughter will feel the repercussions."

The repercussions soon became general knowledge, though the reason for them was not disclosed. It was soon universally known that Mr Parvis and his sister had been sent from London to rusti-cate in the country and would not be back again that Season. Darcy received a painstaking--though blatantly insincere--apology, penned by Mr Parvis, which he passed on to the young ladies.

Georgiana was glad to be rid of him and hoped she would not have to encounter him again during the next Season.

It was not long before they received another apology. Gatley called on each of the Miss Darcys, with his cousin in tow.

Channing entered the house in Berkley Square with bowed head and a sheepish appearance, not at all his usual carefree self.

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"I hope you will believe me when I say I never expected this to happen," he said to Georgiana. "I thought I was doing Miss Clarissa a favour. I know she has a passion for oriental artefacts. I believed I was providing her with a guide who knew the collection better than anyone else. I never thought for a moment that he would possibly behave so badly. Granted, I did not know Parvis well, and so I was wrong to have entrusted him with your care, but you can be sure that I would never have deliberately put you in such a position."

He was so repentant and seemed so genuinely distressed that Georgiana assured him that she did not hold the incident against him.

"Fortunately," she said, "and thanks to your cousin's intervention, all is well that ends well. Let us put the whole thing behind us and hope that nothing of this kind will occur in the future."

Channing assured her that he had learned his lesson well. Soon afterwards he departed with his cousin, some of his old devil-may-care attitude restored.

Georgiana wished they could have stayed, for she had been so involved with Channing's apology that she had hardly spoken to Gatley, though not a moment had passed when she had not longed to go over and be at his side.

Meanwhile London was abuzz with activity. The decorations and victory celebrations added to the usual air of frantic activity. The Season passed its zenith and began to wane, but the crowds gave no sign of diminishing. News of Napoleon's surrender reached England, and everyone waited to hear Napoleon's fate. Rumours grew that he was to be confined in the Tower of London.

The rounds of parties and routs continued, indifferent to the outcome. As they followed each other relentlessly, the boundary 302

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between one event and the other began to blur in Georgiana's mind, except for those in which she was able to spend time with Gatley.

Then word arrived that Napoleon was being held in a ship off the coast of England: the HMS Bellerophon. It was not long before the location of the ship became widely known and flocks of people headed in the direction of Plymouth.

The young ladies, naturally, wanted to have the privilege of seeing the imprisoned Emperor but could convince no one to take them. The Darcy gentlemen both disapproved of his treatment and considered that keeping him on board a ship for all and sundry to come and gape at him eroded any dignity he still had.

Certainly Napoleon played to the crowd, for it was rumoured that he made a regular appearance on deck every day at half past six. Not contented, however, with his official appearance, hundreds of ships sailed by the Bellerophon daily hoping to see more of the famous figure. It was even said that he stood long enough on deck for artists to produce paintings of him.

Since neither Caroline nor Elizabeth showed the least interest in a sighting either, Georgiana and Clarissa resigned themselves to missing the grandest event of the century, though not without numerous complaints.

One such complaint was addressed to Gatley, with very fortunate results. It appeared that Mrs Gatley at least was not immune to the Napoleon vogue and was, in fact, very eager to set eyes on him herself. There was no time to be lost. There was already discussion about moving him to an unknown location, and any delay could jeopardize their chances.

Reaching the coast, however, proved to be a considerable struggle, with every conceivable mode of transportation being used to convey people towards the sea. And when they arrived 303

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there, they feared it was all for nought, for there was no boat to be had anywhere.

"Let us stay on the beach," said Gatley. "Perhaps something will turn up unexpectedly."

As luck would have it, they encountered a single-toothed old fisherman who had just come in early for the day.

The old fisherman, however, was not at all eager to set out again. He muttered that his missus was expecting him, and that he'd already been out and come back and why should he set out again? Even Gatley's very excessive offer--at least worth a week's fishing--did not tempt him. He was determined to be stubborn.

He had come in early because he wanted to go home.

In the end it was Clarissa--coaxing most insistently--who got him to agree.

"You're just like my granddaughter," he said. "She has that same wild look about her. And she won't stop asking."

At the end he agreed to take them out, but as he went about his work, he grumbled about all the people who had come to see Napoleon. "They're obstructing us poor folks," he said. "How are we supposed to get out and fish when the sea's full of boats?"

The boat stank of fish. Gatley concealed his amusement as Georgiana came on board. The stench must have reached her even before she came aboard, yet she stepped in as if she was walking into a perfumed garden. Not for the first time, he admired her self-possession. She revealed nothing at all, not even the faintest twitch of her nose.

Clarissa, however, was not so circumspect. "Ugh! I had no idea fish could smell so foul."

His mother, too, expressed herself candidly. "Could we have not rented something a little better smelling?"

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"I do not know what you are referring to, Mother. What could be better than the salt tang of the sea, the restorative essence of seaweed, and the healthy fragrance of sea-creatures from the depth of the ocean?"

"I can think of a lot of things," replied his mother. "Still, I suppose we must sacrifice if we are to see Napoleon himself."

There were no seats in the boat. They were obliged to stand.

Gatley drew closer to Georgiana, and the two of them stood side to side, the wind blowing into their faces.

Georgiana loved the feel of the wind on her face. She made a half-hearted attempt to shelter herself against the sun, then put down her parasol as the wind threatened to tear it from her grip.

It was the first time she had been to the coast in many years--not since the disaster at Ramsgate.

She waited for the usual dull ache which she always felt when she thought of that place, but there was nothing. She was so astonished she did not even notice they had started to move, and she had to cling to the side to steady herself.

The ache was gone. Exhilarated, she watched the shore recede behind them.

"I love the sea!" she exclaimed and laughed, and the others, capturing her mood, laughed as well as the boat set out and the waves splashed against the sides, spraying them with droplets of sea foam.

"This is far better than rowing on the river," she said, turning to Gatley. Their gazes connected.

"Although I think it very likely that you will soak your stockings again." His eyes were brimming with secret amusement.

Odious man! He had noticed the stockings after all. She should have been shocked, but instead she grinned back at him.

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"I have leather boots, this time," she replied.

She thought he said "too bad," in an undertone, but she could not be sure, for they had reached a large gathering. There must have been hundreds of boats there, all jostling for position.

They slowed down as the fisherman tried to squeeze through the crowd. Some skilful manoeuvring brought them in closer, at least as close as they could possibly get.

The name of the ship loomed in front of them: BELLEROPHON.

Mrs Gatley peered through the telescope they had bought at an exorbitant price from an enterprising vendor on the beach.

"I see someone with a commanding presence--oh, no, he is dressed in a British naval uniform. Perhaps he is Captain Maitland."

She moved the telescope to the right. "Someone is coming on deck.

I can't see him properly..."

"The Emperor himself..."

"'Tis Boney..."

Awed whispers, raucous shouts, hissing, and cheering came from various boats.

"Why are they cheering?" asked Georgiana, wondering who would want to cheer such a monster.

"He has his followers, even here," replied Gatley. "There are many who see him as a hero."

"He is a hero." said Clarissa. "In Boston there are many who see him as a champion of democracy and freedom."

Gatley raised his brows. "He had his chance as ruler, and if he did practise democracy and freedom, it must have been of a very strange kind. He certainly did not deal with his opposition very fairly."

"I can see him now," said Mrs Gatley, urgently, interrupting the argument and peering intently through the telescope.

Everyone wanted a turn at the telescope now. It passed from 306

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hand to hand, each one worried that Napoleon would disappear before they had a chance to behold him. But at the end everyone was able to observe him perfectly well.

Napoleon Bonaparte, who never lost an opportunity to play to the crowd, appeared on the deck looking every bit the Emperor.

Every eye was upon him.

Georgiana had expected to be disappointed. But instead, she was full of awe.

"So that is what a Grand Entrance is supposed to be about,"

she said to Clarissa later. "I wish you had told me. I was doing it all wrong."

Clarissa laughed. "You no longer need to know about Grand Entrances, Georgiana. Your season is over, and you have found your match."

Georgiana, who still had had no definite indication of affection from Gatley, shook her head. "Do not reach conclusions too quickly, Clarissa. Nothing is certain yet. I am not even sure of my own feelings, let alone Gatley's."

It was possible that he cared for her. Certainly, he was showing her a great deal of attention. But she had been mistaken before, and she would not make the same mistake again.

That night, as Georgiana fell asleep, in those magical moments between waking and sleeping, her mind was filled with many things: the gentle water lapping at the sides of the boat, the stench of fish, Napoleon imprisoned in a ship, and Gatley, his dark eyes regarding her tenderly. A sense of peace came over her and she sank into it, surrendering to that quiet joy.

All was well. Nothing bad could happen anymore.

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A few days later, as Georgiana and Clarissa were trimming their hats at Robert Darcy's home, a letter was brought in addressed to Clarissa. Clarissa opened the letter, looked over it quickly, then folded it and set it aside.

This did not escape Robert, who interrupted a consultation he was having with Caroline concerning the estate, to quiz his sister.

"You have received a letter, I see," he said. "I wonder who could have sent you one? And why you hide it so guiltily? Do you think she has a secret beau, Caroline?"

"Hush," said Caroline. "You know it would be most improper for her to receive a letter from a gentleman. You should not jest about such matters. You do know, Clarissa, that to receive such a letter, and to answer it, would be tantamount to an engagement? I only say this because you may not know it."

"Yes, I do know it," said Clarissa. "It is not from a gentleman."

She sought wildly in her mind for a way to divert their attention.

"It is from an old school friend of mine in Boston, who has been sent here to visit her relations."

"Really?" said Robert with interest. "Do I know her family?"

Clarissa, caught in her own trap, decided evasion was the best answer. "You need not pretend you know all my school friends.

You never showed any interest in such details. You were always too busy with the business."

One of the most powerful tools of manipulation devised by the human race is guilt. It can always be relied upon to divert unwanted attention from oneself. This moment was no exception. Qualms of conscience immediately descended upon Robert, and he put his hand to his neck to loosen his cravat.

"Did I really neglect you so much?" he asked.

Clarissa, feeling the stirrings of that same sentiment, laughed.

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"No, no, you need not worry. One cannot expect a gentleman to stay at home and attend to his sisters, after all."

Leaving him to ponder that, she rose from the table and signalled to Georgiana.

"Shall we go upstairs?" said Clarissa.