Page 246 of The Armor of Light
AFTERAMOS HAD VISITEDhis customers in Antwerp, he went to Brussels. Hal should not have been in a potential war zone, and Amos wanted Jane to take the boy back to England and safety. He no longer had any doubt that Hal was his son. Jane loved their child – surely she would see that Brussels was no place for a nine-year-old?
Jane had rented a grand house near the park. A family of three hardly needed so much space, Amos thought as he studied the place from the street. When he stepped into the hall he noticed there was little evidence of a male resident: no riding boots on the floor, no sword hanging from a hook, no bicorn hat on the hatstand. It would not be surprising, Amos reflected, if Henry spent more nights with the regiment than with his family.
Amos was shown into the drawing room, where Jane sat reading a fashion magazine. She was beautifully dressed, as always, and the air around her had a faint aroma of flowers.
Her face was flushed with excitement. She seemed happy, and he wondered why. It was not his presence that energized her: those days were over for both of them. The thought crossed his mind that she might have a lover. It was a mean suspicion, he told himself, but he could not quite manage to dismiss the possibility.
She rang for tea, and they made small talk for a few minutes. He brought her up to date on events in Kingsbridge, and she spoke enthusiastically about social life in Brussels. ‘The duchess of Richmond is giving a ball,’ she said. ‘You must come. I’ll get you aninvitation.’ Once upon a time she had complained that she never got to attend parties. Amos guessed she went to plenty now.
The duchess was a famous snob. ‘Are you sure she won’t object to a lowly clothier?’ he asked.
‘Quite sure. She has already invited more than two hundred people. She won’t mind another one.’
The tea came, and Hal appeared. Amos felt a familiar tug on his heartstrings. Although manhood was some years away, his son was changing. Hal shook hands solemnly with Amos, who cherished the touch of his soft skin. With the appetite of a growing boy he ate three slices of cake in rapid succession.
Watching him, Amos was struck by something about his face, and realized that it reminded him of the face he saw in his shaving mirror. If others saw the resemblance, it could cause trouble. He resolved to grow a beard.
Hal left, and Amos turned the conversation towards the purpose of his visit. ‘The allies meeting in Vienna have declared war,’ he said. ‘Not on France, but on Napoleon personally. I don’t think that’s ever been done before.’
Jane said: ‘That’s because we have no quarrel with France as a peaceable monarchy. We’re going to invade France only to depose Bonaparte. And this time the Corsican upstart won’t escape.’
It was the kind of thing the English might repeat parrot-fashion. Jane had no sense of how difficult it was to defeat Bonaparte. Amos said: ‘You know that he’s massing his army only fifty miles from here, just the other side of the border.’
‘Yes, of course I know,’ she said. ‘But the duke of Wellington is here now, and he has proved himself more than a match for Bonaparte.’
That was not true. The two generals had never yet met in battle. But Amos did not want to quibble. ‘I just feel you and Hal would be so much safer back in England.’
‘In Earlscastle, I suppose,’ she said with disdain. ‘Where nothing ever happens. I think we’re safe enough here.’
‘Really, you’re not,’ he insisted. ‘It’s reckless to underestimate Bonaparte.’
‘My husband is on Wellington’s headquarters staff, you know,’ Jane said with a touch of hauteur. ‘I might know more about the military situation than you do.’
‘I’m no expert,’ Amos conceded. ‘But I believe the outcome of a battle is utterly impossible to predict.’
Jane shifted her ground. ‘I do hope you haven’t come here to lecture me.’
‘I want you and Hal to be safe, that’s all.’
‘It’s Hal you’re worried about. You don’t care about me.’
‘Of course I care about you!’ he protested. ‘You’re the mother of my only child!’
‘Keep your voice down, for God’s sake.’
‘Sorry.’
There was a pause, then Amos said: ‘Just think about what I’ve said, please.’
She was clearly annoyed and embarrassed. ‘I’ll think about it, I’ll think about it,’ she said in a dismissive tone that told him she would not.
Disappointed, he took his leave.
North-west Europe was having a rainy spring, but today was a rare fine day, and he walked through the sunlit streets to the less expensive neighbourhood where Elsie had taken up residence with her husband and children. Elsie met him in the hall with her familiar wide smile. As they walked up the stairs she said: ‘Please don’t tell Kenelm how well he looks. I’m trying to stop him returning to the regiment before he’s ready.’
Amos suppressed a smile. Typical Elsie, determined to keep control, he thought fondly. ‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ he said.
Kenelm was in the drawing room. His face, once cherubically handsome, was now gaunt. However, in other respects he did not look like an invalid. He was fully dressed in clerical robes, wearing outdoor shoes as if he was about to go for a walk. Amos said tactfully: ‘It’s good to see you. I gather you’re recovering fairly well.’
