Warrior

'Ah, indeed. We should—'

Lord Holderness ducked to avoid a branch. When he raised his head again he seemed to sway, and began to shake; then he slumped forward.

Hervey moved to support him in the saddle. 'Close up!' he called to the trumpeter.

Lord Holderness was now struggling, his eyes closed, his mouth frothing.

Hervey knew: the exact same as the night of the river crossing.

Corporal Meade closed on the nearside, reaching for Lord Holderness's reins. 'What 'appened, sir?'

'The colonel's unwell, that's all. We'll ride straight for Heston.'

VI

THE KING'S GERMANLondon, a few days later

Georgiana contained her disappointment admirably, thought Hervey, for he had all but promised her their new quarters.

She had been looking forward to a sea passage. It would, indeed, have been her first sight of the sea. And she had looked forward even more to the mysterious prospect of the Cape Colony, in the company of her father and her new stepmother. But she could not very well go with him alone, even if he were to engage a travelling governess. She had tried her hardest, when first he had told her of the change in the 'arrangements'. After all, the express had hastened her to London for the very purpose of an early passage. She had pressed her case; but if her stepmother could not accompany her father, then it was certain that she could not. She did not fully comprehend why her stepmother could not sail directly; perhaps it was that her half-sister was too young? And then there had been the question of where, in her father's absence, she would stay.

On the one hand it had seemed to him only right and proper that Georgiana should be at her new family home (though there was none, yet; only that of Kezia's family); on the other, his own absence would be for so short a time that it seemed prudent to continue with the present arrangements. Except that the present arrangements were fast becoming objectionable. Indeed it would be quite impossible for Elizabeth to act as guardian if she were to persist in her design to marry her German.

And so he had set the question to one side this morning, choosing instead to spend a little of the day with his daughter in the most agreeable way they might – no talk of his going away, no talk of where she might live, no talk of Elizabeth's intentions.

'Your aunt is engaged for the day, so I am at your disposal,' he said, smiling over a breakfast cup in the dining room at Grillon's Hotel in Albemarle Street, where Georgiana and her Aunt Elizabeth were staying.

Georgiana had of late grown quite tall for her age, so that she occupied the chair opposite him less as the child he was used to contemplating (or, rather, imagining, for he had in truth spent little time in her company) and more as a replica of her mother. Indeed, seeing her now put him in mind of the portrait which stood at the studio of Sir Thomas Lawrence (and which still awaited his instructions for carriage), with its raven lustre of ringlets, and large and happy eyes.

Georgiana contemplated the offer very seriously. She was ten years old, yet somehow she presented a picture three times that age (doubtless, thought Hervey, the influence of his sister). 'I think that I should like to see a lion. I should like to know how big is one, and then I might picture in my mind more faithfully your fight with him at Hounslow.'

Hervey smiled. 'You misunderstand. It was not I who fought him, but Lord Holderness.'

'But you were by his side, were you not, Papa?'

'I was, but as I explained, Lord Holderness acted with such address that the lion was quite subdued by the time I was able to dismount. And glad of it I was, too, for I do not in the least mind admitting that a lion is a most troubling beast to be so close to.'

'May we see one, though, Papa? Can we not seek out the menagerie?'

'That, or another, yes. But first, there's a museum of curiosities only five minutes' walk from here. It has preserved lions and tigers. And there is something else I would show you – a lion hunt.'

'A lion hunt, Papa?'

He smiled again. 'A petrified lion hunt.'

'How so?'

'At the British Museum there is a frieze, carved out of stone – a lion hunt in Mesopotamia, or somewhere like. It is very ancient. And there are the zoological gardens, not long opened.'

Georgiana agreed enthusiastically to all his proposals.

And so for the rest of the morning they roved London in search of lions, first to Mr Bullock's 'museum of natural curiosities', and then to a travelling menagerie in St James's Park, where a lioness paced her cage restlessly, and occasionally snarled, to the squealed delight of the female onlookers; and from here they took a hackney cab to Bloomsbury for their study of the art of lion hunting. The adventure was as thoroughly diverting to Hervey as to Georgiana.

They lunched at a large and noisy chophouse, took a ride on a 'catch-me-who-can', and then walked back to Grillon's by way of Bond Street, where he bought her some silk gloves, and Piccadilly, where at number one hundred and ninety, Mr Hatchard the bookseller's, he made to hand over a guinea for Mrs Teachwell's Grammar Box, which he had ordered at Kezia's recommendation.

'It will instruct you in every point of English grammar,' he explained to Georgiana, who was much taken by the woodcuts of various animals which were to serve in the construction and parsing of sentences. 'Such as what is a noun and a preposition and the like.'

'Oh, but I know what are nouns and prepositions, Papa. And verbs and adjectives – and all the other parts of speech. Aunt Elizabeth has taught me.'

'Has she indeed,' he replied, with irrational disappointment, and putting the guinea back into his pocket. He