Voices in a Haunted Room

Then there were the theatres. The opera houses in the Haymarket and Drury Lane and Covent Garden as well as the pleasure gardens, which were all a delight.

We saw little of Dickon and Jonathan. They were always on business somewhere. I wondered a great deal about Jonathan’s life here for it was true that he spent more time in London than anywhere-as I believe Dickon had done before his marriage. What a different life it would have been for me if I had married him, I thought a little wistfully.

But I should never have been sure of him. Jonathan could never be faithful to one woman. I doubted Dickon could in his youth; but Dickon and my mother were now truly lovers, as the Comte, my grandfather, had been with my grandmother. It needed real love to change men like that. Dickon had, strangely enough, found that love, as my grandfather had, and as I knew many people had marvelled in the change in the Comte, so they now did in Dickon. I guessed it must be something very rare. And I thought sadly that Jonathan had not yet reached that stage. I was ungrateful to wish for anything different from what we had. I had the best of husbands, an adorable child. What more could one ask for?

It was the excitement of the big city and all the pleasures that were to be found in it that made me thoughtful. But were the pleasures important compared with peace and contentment and the knowledge that one could trust completely in a husband’s love?

One would not want to visit the theatre every night, to wander through the pleasure gardens, to visit the shops every day. These things were exciting because they were rare. Familiarity bred contempt. That could be true. I must learn to accept what I had, to realize its worth and be grateful for it.

My mother and I spent a great deal of time choosing our materials. Silk was very expensive since it had become scarce, for much of it had come from France in the past and of course that industry had halted when the people began murdering each other. The same applied to lace. No other people seemed to make these materials with the elegance of the French, so it took us a little longer to find what we wanted.

We went to the theatre in the Haymarket and heard Handel’s Acts and Galatea, which was an uplifting experience; and then for contrast next day we went to Mrs. Salmon’s Waxworks, close by the Temple. We were very amused by the effigies outside the door of an old match seller on crutches, carrying a basket of matches, and beside her a beefeater in the most splendid costume. They were so lifelike that people came up to peer at them and make sure that they were not real.

How we laughed and marvelled at the figures! There were the King and Queen Charlotte with the Prince of Wales, side by side with Dr. Johnson and John Wilkes and other notable figures-all startlingly lifelike. I loved the next room, which was a pastoral scene with shepherds courting shepherdesses. In another room was a model of a ship in a sea of glass. So we felt we had good value for our sixpence entrance fee and bought some marbles and Punch-and-Judy figures from the shop which was part of the establishment.

“The children will love them in a few years’ time,” said my mother.

She and Dickon were to attend the royal wedding, for Dickon was influential in high places and of course my mother must accompany him. I was looking forward to hearing an account of the wedding first hand. We had already seen the wedding cake going into Buckingham House, and it was so enormous that it had to be carried in a coach.

The people had cheered it as it went along its route.

The Queen was to hold what was called “a drawing room” and Dickon and my mother would attend this after witnessing the ceremony in the Chapel Royal at St. James’s.

I had told my mother that I was a little envious.

“Oh, these ceremonies!” she replied. “Everybody wants to have been asked to them but nobody really wants to go. While I am standing there making sure that my behaviour is exactly as it should be in the royal presence I’ll think of you and Jonathan relaxing at peace and enjoying the day.”

It was my mother who had suggested that Jonathan should look after me while she and Dickon were at the palace. “You’ll want to see something of what’s going on, I daresay,”

she said. “And I wouldn’t want you on the streets alone.”

“I’ll take good care of her, Step-mama,” said Jonathan.

“All the rogues and vagabonds will be out today,” added Dickon. “I’ll swear the beggars and pickpockets come in from fifty miles away. They’re looking for good pickings.

You’ll have to take care.”

“Trust me,” said Jonathan.

I told myself that I was thrust into this situation. It was no fault of mine that I was to spend the day with Jonathan. How could I possibly have refused to be with him? It was no use pretending that I was not exhilarated by the prospect and I warned myself that I should have to be careful.