But by the end of February even the mild diversion provided by Emily’s visits came to an end, for the Lalehams removed to London, Lady Laleham being quite unable to endure more than three months in the country. Only the schoolroom party remained in Gloucestershire, a house in the best part of town having been hired by Sir Walter for the season. “For my coming-out!” said Emily proudly.
“Very kind of Papa!” smiled Serena.
“Oh, yes! At least, it is Grandmama’s, of course. I wish she could be there to see me in my Court dress!”
“Your grandmama doesn’t live in London, I collect?”
“Oh, no, she lives in Bath! And I love her dearly!” said Emily, in an oddly defiant voice.
March, coining in like a lion, saw Fanny the victim of neuralgia. Jane came to visit her, but this attention was marred by an air of graciousness which conveyed a strong impression of a great lady condescending to her humbler relations. Jane was beginning to assume consequential manners, and was unwise enough to tell Serena that she did not think it quite the thing for her to ride “all over the country” with only a groom for companion. Spenborough could not like it. “I told him I would certainly drop a hint in your ear.”
“Drop one from me in his!” flashed Serena. “That I am not an attorney’s daughter on my preferment!”
The encounter was one of many. Uneasy tension lay between the two houses; there were frequent quarrels; Serena’s temper grew brittle, and several times she snapped at Fanny. Then, one wet afternoon, she found Fanny weeping softly beside the fire in her bedroom, and was aghast.
“Fanny! Dearest Fanny, what is it?”
“Oh, nothing, nothing!” Fanny sobbed, trying to hide her face. “Pray, do not—! I didn’t mean—It is just that I am a little low!”
Serena was on her knees before her, holding her hands comfortingly. “It is not like you! I’m sure there must be some reason—Oh, Fanny, it is not because I was cross?”
“Oh, no! I never meant to vex you, only I am so stupid!”
Filled with remorse, Serena soothed and petted her back to tranquillity. “I am the most hateful wretch alive! To turn on you, merely because Hartley had enraged me! I don’t know what I deserve!”
Fanny dried her eyes. “It was silly of me. I know how hard it is for you to endure Hartley. And Jane is growing so conceited! Even I feel it, and it is much worse for you to have her behaving as though she had lived at Milverley all her life! Rotherham told me you ought not to live here, and he is quite right.”
“Much he knows!” said Serena scornfully.
“But he does know, Serena. I have seen how much it rubs you, and it’s no wonder! I wish it were possible for us both to go away!”
“But—” Serena stopped suddenly. “Good God, what a pair of goosecaps we are!” she exclaimed. “Why—oh, why the devil don’t we go away? It has been intolerable here ever since Christmas. You have been unwell, I have been cross, and the plain truth is that we are finding life a dead bore. We will go away!”
“But we could not!” gasped Fanny. “Not to London, while we are in mourning! I know Mama would say I ought not!”
“Not to London, no! We could very well go to Bath, however.”
Fanny’s eyes widened. “Bath?”
“Yes! And not even your mama will think it improper, because you will go there on the advice of Dr Cliffe, to drink the waters! We will hire a house for six months or so, and if we cannot go to the Assemblies, at least there will be the libraries, and the Pump Room, and—”
“Serena!” breathed Fanny, awed.
Serena laughed at her. “Well? Shall we do it?”
“Oh, Serena, yes! Milsom Street—the shops—the London coach coming in—the Sydney Gardens—!”
“And some faces other than our own to look at!”
“Yes, indeed! Oh, what a delightful scheme! Now, where,” said Fanny, her woes forgotten, “should you like to hire a house? And how must we set about it?”
6
The removal to Bath having been decided upon, nothing remained but to choose between lodgings there, or a furnished house. Fanny, unaccustomed to arranging such matters, would have wasted weeks in indecision, but it was otherwise with Serena. It was she who entered into all the negotiations, she who knew what would best suit them. Fanny had nothing to do but to agree; and if asked what were her own inclinations she could only say that she would like to do whatever Serena thought most proper. So Serena, remarking that to keep five indoor servants in idleness for several months would be a false economy, discarded all ideas of renting lodgings, and dispatched Lybster to Bath to inspect the various houses recommended by the agent. This resulted in Fanny’s signing a contract to hire, for six months, a house in Laura Place, which Lybster pronounced to be the most eligible of all he had seen. By the middle of March all the furniture at the Dower House was shrouded in holland covers, and Spenborough, who had spared no pains to assist the ladies in all the troublesome details of removal (even lending the late Earl’s enormous and antiquated travelling coach for the transport of servants and baggage), was able to heave a sigh of rather guilty relief.
Since Milverley lay only some twenty-five miles from Bath, the ladies accomplished the journey in the barouche. Fanny, fortified on the road by smelling-salts, declared that she had never made a journey more comfortably, and, instead of retiring instantly to bed to nurse a sick headache, was able, on their arrival in Laura Place, not only to inspect the house, but to change her dress for dinner, and to discuss with Serena the exciting news contained in a letter from Lady Theresa, which was found awaiting her. The Princess Charlotte was engaged to Leopold of Saxe-Coburg!
This was just the kind of news which Fanny enjoyed. Nothing could be more interesting than the approaching nuptials of the heiress presumptive to the throne; and when the heiress had already made a considerable stir by breaking her engagement to the Prince of Orange the new contract could not but provide food for a good deal of speculation. Fanny was not acquainted with the Princess, who had been kept very close; but she had met Prince Leopold during the rather premature Peace Celebrations in 1814: indeed, she was sure he had been present at the great rout-party they had given at Spenborough House for so many of the foreign notables. Did not Serena recall a handsome young man in that alarming Grandduchess’s train? She was persuaded he must be all that was most amiable; it was no wonder that the Princess should have preferred him to the Prince of Orange. Did not Serena agree that it must be a love-match?
“So my aunt informs us,” said Serena. “It seems not to be a match of the Prince Regent’s seeking, at all events. Indeed, it would be wonderful if it were! It may be very romantic—though I thought the young man a trifle dull, myself!—but a Saxe-Coburg can’t be considered any great thing for such an heiress! A younger son, too!”
But Fanny insisted that this was even an advantage, since a Prince without a principality would be content to live in England, instead, like the Prince of Orange, of insisting on taking the Princess Charlotte to live for some part of the year in his own domains. As for his being dull, she thought Serena judged too harshly. For her part, she liked his dignified manners, his air of grave reflection; and had felt, on the only occasion when she had met him, that the young Prince of Orange was nothing more than a rattle. And with such an undistinguished face and figure!