A Heart in Heaven

CHAPTER ONE 1852-1

CHAPTER ONE

1852“Quick, quick, come up on deck! We’re nearly there!”

Louisa Hatton grasped her friend’s hand and did not stop running until they were up in the fresh air, leaning over the ship’s rails, gazing at the white cliffs of Dover.

“There!” Louisa cried ecstatically. “There is the coast of England, Arabelle. Soon we will be home.”

“I am longing to see your home,” said Arabelle Regnac in her pretty accent. She was French, and had become Louisa’s closest friend in L’Ecole des Anges, the Paris finishing school where they had both spent the last two years. Now Louisa was on her way home, taking Arabelle with her for a visit.

“It’s strange to think how I disliked being sent to finishing school,” Louisa mused. “I just wanted to stay at home with the dogs and the horses. Oh, Arabelle, just wait until you see our stables filled with so many lovely, lovely thoroughbreds.”

“Yes, you have told me about them so many times,” Arabelle replied, amused. “My dear friend, you are horse mad.”

“Oh, yes,” Louisa agreed happily. “I cried at leaving them. I didn’t want to go to ‘the School of the Angels’.”

“It would be hard to find anyone less like angels than we were on that first day,” Arabelle laughed.

“But Mama said I had to learn to be a great lady, ready to take my place in Society. She said if I married a man in a high position, I must be a credit to him and be able to speak French fluently, and preferably Italian and German as well.”

At finishing school she had perfected not only languages but deportment and all the social skills. She could play the piano, sing, draw and dance all the fashionable dances.

She also read the newspapers and took an intelligent interest in the world. This of necessity involved a delicate balance.

Her Mama had impressed on her that young ladies were not supposed to appear too clever and must never, on any account, seem knowledgeable about politics. On the other hand, a wife was expected to take a well informed interest in her husband’s affairs.

So Louisa had learned to acquire many opinions – and keep them to herself.

Now she was eighteen and ready to face her destiny – whatever it might be.

She had a tall, elegant figure and a pretty face, surrounded by flowing light brown curls. How to dress elegantly was one thing she had gladly learned in Paris. The fashions of the day with their tight waists and huge bustles suited her shape admirably.

Now she was wearing a blue velvet travelling dress, trimmed with braid and a matching blue velvet hat with a cheeky little feather. Her feet were neatly shod in black kid boots and wherever she went heads turned.

It was not just her looks that people admired. She boasted a vivacious spirit and a charm that captivated everyone who met her, and her wide blue eyes held a delightful air of candour and her smile combined innocence and mystery in a way that was intriguing.

More than one young Frenchman had lost his heart to her. Louisa had smiled kindly on them all, but flirted with none of them.

But the other girls at the school had flirted madly. At night they told stories, giggling, about their conquests. Louisa had listened and dreamed.

“And are you going to marry a man in a high position?” Arabelle asked as they leaned on the rail and watched Dover Harbour coming slowly closer.

“I have no idea. It does not matter, as long as I love him and he loves me. What does his position matter?”

“That is admirable,” Arabelle agreed, “but a good position is nice too. Perhaps your parents have already chosen a husband for you.”

Louisa shook her head, but she could not dismiss this idea as completely as she would have liked. She had always known she was being groomed to make a brilliant marriage. She was her parents’ only child and all their hopes were fixed on her.

She was also a little troubled by the visit her Mama had paid her a few days ago to say that she must return home at once.

“But Mama,” she had protested, “it’s only November. Term does not end until just before Christmas.”

“I know, my darling, but I miss you so much. We will go home now.”

Her mother’s soft speech often lightly concealed a determination that nothing could sway. But Louisa did not think of that at this moment, because Mama’s next words were, “and we will arrange a big ‘coming out’ party for you.”

Louisa had given a cry of delight and clapped her hands.

“Oh, Mama, I would love it,” she said. “But it will be a real grown-up party, won’t it? The parties you have given me in the past have been for children.”

Her mother laughed.

“You had to grow up first before we could give you a grown-up party,” she said. “Now you are eighteen and I promise you will make your debut like a young lady.”

“We will give a big ball for you. Then you can take your place in Society and before long we will be planning your wedding.”

Louisa had sighed ecstatically.

“Oh, Mama, that will be so wonderful. Will I have a really glamorous wedding?”

“The most glamorous in the County, my darling.”

“I want to sweep down the aisle in white satin, with a long train and lots of lace. I will be on Papa’s arm and he will be so proud. And there at the altar my bridegroom will be waiting, young and handsome and wildly in love with me, as I am with him.”

“I am sure he will be wildly in love,” her mother had said indulgently, “but young, handsome men are not so easy to find.”

“Oh, no, he must be young and handsome,” Louisa had insisted, laughing. “I do so wish I could meet him soon and fall in love in the moonlight and –”

“That is all very well,” Lady Hatton said, “but real life is sometimes rather different. Your Papa and I want other attributes in your husband – stability, correct opinions and a high position.”

“But Mama, I don’t want you to find me a husband,” Louisa said, astonished. “I might not like him.”

“Louisa –”

“Stability and correct opinions? My goodness! Suppose – suppose he is fat?”

“He isn’t –” Lady Hatton checked herself and finished smoothly, “isn’t likely to be fat.”

Louisa was too carried away to notice her mother’s slip of the tongue.

“Mama, I hope I am a dutiful daughter but I really could not love a man who was enormously fat, however correct his opinions.”

“Now, stop this foolish talk. A young girl should trust her parents to know what is best for her.”

She looked at Louisa with sudden suspicion.

“I hope that while in Paris you have always been modest in your behaviour, no entanglements, nothing that would make you talked about and damage your reputation.”

“No, of course not, Mama,” Louisa said meekly.

Her heart had never been touched. She knew nothing about love except what she had read in novels that the girls smuggled into school and read at night by candlelight. The men in those books were all so attractive and real life men seemed dull by comparison.

Now she would be asked to consider marriage with a man whose only virtues were that he was stodgy and boring (for what else could stability and correct opinions mean?)

She gave a little shudder, but only discreetly, in case her mother was shocked.

She had begged to be allowed to bring her best friend, Arabelle, home for a visit.

“After all, Mama, I visited her family. We must invite her back.”

Her mother had agreed, although a little reluctantly, Louisa had thought, and when a message had been sent to Arabelle’s parents, seeking their permission, it was time to prepare for the journey.

Now the steamer had nearly reached the English coast and Louisa was full of excitement. Because she had spent the summer with Arabelle, it was six months since she had seen her home.

Leaning over the railing, looking at the white cliffs of Dover, Louisa recalled that conversation, and how there had been something strange and troubling about her mother’s manner.

“Whatever Mama says, I don’t believe she would try to arrange a marriage for me,” she asserted firmly.

Arabelle shrugged. Although she was a few months younger than Louisa, she was the more worldly wise of the two. Her favourite occupation was lying on a sofa with a book.

She claimed that Louisa’s high spirits and energy left her exhausted. Yet, despite being so different, they were firm friends.

“Would it be so terrible?” she asked. “They would choose a man with money and a title to give you an assured position in the world. Then you could shine in Society.”

“But they could not choose a man who loved me,” Louisa cried passionately. “Only I can do that. I want love – the kind of love which increases year by year.

“I want to feel how lucky I have been to find a husband who loves me like Papa loves Mama. And I want to love him with my whole heart and soul.

“Mama talks about arranging my marriage sensibly, but she and Papa enjoy a happy marriage.”

“Ah, but were they in love when they married?” Arabelle asked.

“Oh, yes. They say my father was the most handsome young man in the county, with a terrible, wicked reputation.”

She said the last words in a thrilled voice. She was too innocent to know much about a wicked reputation, but it sounded exciting.

“Really wicked?” Arabelle asked eagerly.

“Well – he was certainly wild. He gambled and rode dangerous horses and flirted madly with every lady he met.”

“That sounds nice and wicked,” Arabelle agreed.

“But then he met Miss Sarah Beale and fell so madly in love that he became a reformed character for her sake. She stopped his gambling and once he had married his true love, he never looked at anyone else.”

“That is so romantic.”

“After all these years they still do little things to please each other. They would not want me to be less happy than they are.”

Louisa thought of how secure in each other’s affections her parents were. But she also knew that she wanted more than the security of love. She longed also for the excitement of romance.

‘But will I ever find what I long for?’ she whispered to herself.

There was no chance to muse any more. They had reached the harbour and the clamour and excitement of docking was all around them.

Louisa went below to fetch her mother, who was dozing below deck, attended by her maid.

After a light lunch at Dover they boarded the train that would take them to Surrey and Hatton Place. Lady Hatton, who was not a good traveller, settled herself in the corner of the first class carriage with her smelling salts.

Neither of the girls spoke much for the rest of the journey. They stared out of the window. Arabelle wondered at the beautiful English countryside, covered in the reds, oranges and browns of autumn. And Louisa’s heart was full to overflowing with joy at being home again. Soon she would be reunited with her beloved father.

“We’re nearly home,” she breathed. “Oh, how happy I am! Mama?”

Lady Hatton had been lost in a dream, staring out of the window. Now she gave her daughter a reassuring smile.

“Are you all right, Mama?” Louisa asked anxiously.

“Of course, my darling,” Lady Hatton answered quickly.

“I have often thought you seemed sad and thoughtful these last two days.”

“It’s only the strain of the long journey.”

Louisa had a strange feeling that her mother was concealing something, but she did not know what to say.

At last the train was drawing into the little country station. Louisa looked out of the window, curious to know which of the grooms had come to meet them, but there was nobody that she recognised. She saw only a young man.

“It’s Blake, our new groom,” said Lady Hatton.

“We have a new groom?”

“Three of the others left. Now we have Blake.”

“But it takes three men to look after all our horses.”

“There’s much less work to do,” said Lady Hatton hurriedly. “Your Papa has sold some of the horses.”

Before Louisa could reply the groom had approached the train. When it stopped he opened the carriage door, bowed respectfully and assisted Lady Hatton down.

“Welcome home, your Ladyship,” he said gravely. “I hope you have had a pleasant journey.”

“Well enough,” Lady Hatton replied. “As you see, I have brought Miss Hatton home and a friend of hers.”

The young man bowed to the young girls. Louisa stared in astonishment.

He was the most handsome young man she had ever seen. He was in his twenties, with a lean face, dark brooding eyes and thick black hair. He was almost a head taller than herself, so that she had to look up at him and the impression he made was almost overwhelming.