“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.
Chapter XV
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!”
“But, my dear — !” he exclaimed, considerably startled. “Surely you don’t mean to keep it secret from him?”
“That’s just what I do mean to do, while I’m able. I wouldn’t have told you either, if I hadn’t been obliged to, because it’s early days yet, and no sense in boasting of what might not come to pass after all. Now, Adam, you don’t know Papa as I do, so you’ll be pleased to do as I bid you! The instant he knows I’m in the family way he’ll fly into one of his grand fusses, wanting to keep me in cotton, let alone bringing in half the doctors in London to drive me crazy! You may ask Martha, if you don’t believe me! She’ll tell you the same, and that I’ll do better without being cossetted, what’s more!”
“Oh, does Martha know?” he asked, rather relieved.
“Well, of course she does! Now, if you’ll pour me out a drop more of your cordial, I shall be as right as a trivet again, and well go back to watch the rest of the show. And don’t think I shall go off in a swoon, or anything of that kind, for I shan’t, and so I promise you!”
He was obliged to fall in with these plans, though with considerable misgiving. They rejoined the rest of the party just in time to see the Tsar’s procession pass, and to learn that not even the presence in his carriage of the King of Prussia had deterred certain persons in the crowd from hissing the Prince Regent. If their absence had been noticed, no one commented on it. The show being at an end, thoughts turned towards nuncheon. Adam kept a watchful eye on Jenny, but although she ate nothing but a morsel of capon, and two spoonfuls of jelly, she showed no signs of succumbing again to nausea. The fear, however, that the festivities might prove too much for her remained with him, and although he continued to talk to his guests his brain was occupied in trying to decide what to do if she should be taken ill. It was not until he handed her out of the carriage, in Grosvenor Street, that his mind returned to his conversation with Julia, and even then it did not engross his thoughts. It was no more forgotten than a bruise which gave pain whenever it was touched, but Jenny’s pregnancy was a matter of greater importance, because she was his wife, and he was responsible for her well-being.