Chapter 5

The Talk of the Town

20 August 1805, cont'd.

“AND SO WE ARE TO CONCLUDE THAT MR. GREY'S challenge is not retracted, but merely deferred,” Lizzy observed. “How very tiresome, to be sure.”

Neddie handed her a volume of Montaigne's essays. “I think I may fairly say that the gentleman's bluster is worse than his bite. Do not trouble yourself about duelling pistols, my dear; it shall come to naught.”

“Particularly if the gentleman hangs,” I added thoughtfully. “Such an exhibition as Grey's, Neddie, must give rise to speculation — it has little of real feeling behind it, and too much of contrivance.”

“Spurred by guilt, you would say?” My brother smiled. “Perhaps he merely affects a posture he believes necessary before the world. Grey is, after all, a bereaved husband, and expected to comport himself as such— however little he may grieve for his wife. Such a condition cannot be comfortable. He must suggest outrage, ire, and a desire for vengeance, when, in fact, all he may feel is relief.”

“If he cannot feel what he ought, then guilt is natural and just,” I returned; “but I cannot esteem him for it. Such unnatural behaviour must appear like deceit, and direct the suspicion of the world against him. Have you despatched a constable to London, Neddie, to enquire into Mr. Grey's movements?”

“One of Canterbury's fellows rode with The Larches' groom in pursuit of Grey last night, and remained in Town to discover what he could of the gentleman. I cannot dispute that Grey was in Pall Mall all evening; but I should be happy to learn where he spent the early part of the day. I do not expect Mr. Grey to betray himself so easily, however, Jane. If he had a hand in his wife's murder — for reasons we have yet to divine — he is not the sort of fool to be discovered.”

“My dear,” Lizzy interrupted, “if you cannot dispose this morning of the interesting question of Mr. Grey's guilt, perhaps you might bend your considerable intellect to the problems of packing. I should hate to own to any peculiar weakness, but I confess that I find myself quite overwhelmed. We cannot remove the entirety of Godmersham — and yet, what is of so little value as to be left to the French? I am virtually in despair, while you and Jane debate philosophy!”

“A thousand apologies, my dearest,” Neddie cried, and knelt beside the box of books. “Surely you have an adequate supply of novels for our amusement? We cannot hope to shift all the library's volumes.”

“Nor yet the better part of the furniture,” his wife agreed mournfully. “There cannot be waggons enough; and besides, I could not answer for the damage along the road. And what of the children, Neddie? Should not they be sent away in safety now? — But what to despatch along with them? Clothes sufficient for a fortnight— or all of the boys' things for the Winchester Michaelmas term?”

“Place the matter entirely in Sackree's hands,” Neddie advised. “Miss Sharpe may serve to assist her. You cannot rule every province, Lizzy, tho' the impulse to do so must be strong. As for the children — perhaps they should return to Town with Henry. I believe he intends a removal in a few days' time, and might serve them as escort.”

“I could never allow them from my sight in the midst of such uncertainty,” Lizzy said with decision. “If we must be forced from our home, we shall quit it together.”

“Perhaps I might be of service to Miss Sharpe,” I suggested. “I could sort the children's things without danger of confusion. And perhaps my own departure could conveniently be hastened? My mother cannot expect to be welcomed to a household in turmoil. Her September visit should be deferred until an easier time, and Cassandra and I returned to Bath.”

“Pray do not consign us all to oblivion in a single paragraph!” Neddie protested. “You excite yourself unduly, Jane. There is no cause to send any of us from home on the strength of a mere rumour.”

“You call it rumour?” Lizzy cried. “But Captain Wood-ford appeared so grave! His aspect very nearly one of defeat! One sight of his sombre countenance, and I was certain we should all be burnt in our beds — and the vexation of it is not to be borne! I have only just received my new gown for tomorrow's Assembly, as you know; and now all such frivolity must be suspended!”

“Not wear your new gown to the Race Week Assembly? Impossible!” Neddie snapped his fingers in dismissal. “I would never suspend any pleasure of yours, for so trifling an affair as an invasion. You shall have your ball, my dear, if Pratt must cut his way through Buonaparte's ranks to achieve it.”

Lizzy laughed aloud and cuffed him lightly with a feather-duster. “You must believe me a foolish creature, Neddie, if you can speak to me so. I might be a child of Fanny's age, and not an old married woman of two-and-thirty. I have quite resigned myself to the loss of the Assembly.”

“You mistake, my dear. I merely refuse to be goaded into alarm by an idle report of a courier seen on the road, carrying intelligence that no one has actually heard.”

“A courier?” I said, all alive to the word. “The selfsame courier of Mrs. Grey?”

My brother nodded. “I encountered Captain Wood-ford along the Wingham road, a half-hour, perhaps, after his visit here. He told me what his sense of duty must forbid him sharing with a lady — that General Lord Forbes had received warning of the invasion, from a trusty in the service of the Crown, who espied a French courier in the green and gold livery of the Penfleur clan — that is Mrs. Grey's family — flying along the coast road yesterday morning. Early warning of Buonaparte's advance should be as gold on the Exchange, Jane, and the trusty surmised that such was the courier's purpose. The bankers sniff the wind before the politicians feel the storm, as no doubt you are aware.”

“But the trusty did not learn the courier's intelligence himself?”

“Are you suggesting,” Lizzy enquired in a menacing tone, “that all this effort at removal is so much parade and poppycock?”

“Not at all,” Neddie assured her hastily. “Tho' hardly brilliant, Lord Forbes is a careful man. His devotion to his duty is legendary. He believed the moment ripe for a plan of evacuation, in the event that Buonaparte is upon the seas; but nothing certain can be known of the Emperor's movements.”

“The General regards this trusty as so worthy of credence?” I asked.

“That I cannot say, being ignorant of the particulars. But I should guess that Lord Forbes has drawn a hasty conclusion, in the belief that no French courier might achieve these shores without the assistance of an invading fleet. He suspects our Navy is routed — but I cannot believe so much. Grey himself assures me that any number of couriers might traverse the Channel with letters of safe passage; and what a man of the world regards as commonplace, a gentleman farmer should never question.”

“Then are we to live in this suspense,” Lizzy cried, “never knowing whether we are to be turned from our beds?”

Neddie shrugged. “Such are the vagaries of war, my dearest. We might have removed to Town like our more fearful neighbours, several months since, and viewed the present chaos from a position of comfort; but we placed our faith in the protection of the Guards. Wood-ford informs me that if the French are sighted, the Canterbury beacon tower shall be fired. Until the flames go up in the night, we have nothing to fear; but if the faggots are lit, we must be ready to fly.”

“Everything but our writing desks and the silver plate must remain.” Lizzy glanced around with regret “Oh, that I might strangle the fiend Buonaparte myself upon the shores of Pegwell! To think, that he shall have the run of our home — his officers plundering our cellars, his men butchering our pigs, and the rest scrawling careless French boot-blacking in great streaks across our marble floors!”