A Regency Officer's Wedding. Carla Kelly

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СКАЧАТЬ and this is my wife, Sophia. We have come to call on Mr Brustein, if he is available to visitors.’

      ‘Come inside, please,’ she said, opening the door wider. Sally could hear the faintest of accents. ‘I will see.’

      The housekeeper left them standing in a hall lined with delicate watercolours. ‘This is elegant,’ Sally whispered.

      ‘Makes our place look like an exhibitioner’s hall,’ the admiral whispered back. ‘At least the parts that don’t look like a brothel.’

      ‘Hush,’ she whispered, her face flaming. ‘Behave yourself.’

      A moment later she heard footsteps, light but halting, and turned to see a leprechaun of a man coming towards them, leaning heavily on a cane, his face lively with interest. He wore a suit even older than her husband’s, and a shawl around that. White hair sprang like dandelion puffs around his head, except where it was held in place by a skullcap. As he came close, she saw that he barely came up to her shoulder. She curtsied; he gave her an answering bow.

      ‘Well, well. It’s not every day that an admiral comes to call,’ he said, his accent slightly more pronounced than the housekeeper’s. ‘And his pretty lady.’

      Charles bowed, then held out his hand. ‘Sir, I am lately retired and I think I am your nearest neighbour. Admiral Bright at your service. This…um…pretty lady is my wife, Sophia.’

      ‘Charming. Admiral, you have an account with me.’

      ‘Along with most of the fleet, I think,’ Bright said. ‘Two months ago, I bought that excuse for an estate that has probably been offending your eyes—not to mention your sensibilities—for decades.’

      The old man nodded. He gestured them into the sitting room, where Sally had seen the lace curtains. The cat in the window opened one eye and then the other, then left the window to twine around Jacob Brustein. He gently pushed the cat away with his cane. ‘Go on, Beelzebub. If you trip me up, I’ll be less than useless.’

      Sally picked up the cat, which went limp in her arms and started to purr.

      ‘He is the worst opportunist in Devon,’ Brustein said, indicating the sofa. ‘But he brings me mice every day, thinking I am unable to catch my own. One cannot ignore benevolence, in whatever form it takes.’

      They sat. Jacob nodded to the housekeeper, who stood at the door, and she left. ‘You have come calling?’

      ‘We have indeed,’ Bright said. ‘My wife assures me that is what people do on land. Since I have spent the better portion of twenty years at sea, I must rely on her notions of what is right and proper.’

      Brustein turned his kindly gaze on her. ‘Then you are probably in good hands.’

      ‘My thoughts precisely,’ Bright replied.

      Sally was spared from further embarrassment by the arrival of the housekeeper, this time with tea and small cakes. She set the tray down in front of Sally, who looked up to smile, and noticed tears in the housekeeper’s eyes. I wonder what is wrong? she thought. She glanced at the old man, who seemed to be struggling, too. Uncertain what to do, she asked, ‘Wou-would you like me to pour, Mr Brustein?’

      He nodded and wiped at his eyes.

      ‘I hope we have not come at a bad time,’ Bright said. ‘We can come another day.’

      With that, Brustein took out a large handkerchief and blew his nose vigorously. He tucked it back in his coat, and settled the shawl higher on his shoulders. ‘This is an excellent day. You will understand my emotion when I tell you two that you are my first neighbourhood visitors.’

      Sally gasped. ‘Sir, how long have you lived here?’

      ‘More than thirty years, my dear.’ He indicated the tray in front of her. ‘Would you pour, please? As for the cakes…’ he shrugged ‘…I suppose it is too early for such things.’

      It was, but Sally decided she would tug out her fingernails by the roots, rather than embarrass the man. ‘They are very welcome, Mr Brustein.’ She picked up the teapot, determined not to barter with the old fellow’s dignity for one second. ‘One lump or two, sir?’

      Brustein looked around elaborately. ‘The housekeeper would insist I get nothing but one. Since I do not see her, three.’

      She did as he asked, then looked at her husband, who watched Brustein with a certain tenderness in his eyes that surprised her. ‘And you, Charles?’

      He shook his head. ‘None. Just tea. And one cake.’

      Their host noticed this exchange. ‘You have not been married long, if your wife does not know your tea habits, Admiral.’

      ‘True,’ Bright said, accepting the tea from her. ‘Peace allows a man certain privileges he never enjoyed before, or so I am learning, eh, Sophie dear? No one ever visited you? Well, the old rogue across the road was no bargain, so you were none the poorer there.’

      ‘People have always been willing to bank with us,’ Brustein said, after a sip. ‘But visit?’ He shrugged.

      ‘I’m embarrassed for my other neighbours,’ Bright said. ‘Shame on them.’

      Brustein shrugged again, holding his hands out in front of him in a gesture more eloquent than words. ‘But you are visiting me now, are you not?’

      ‘We’ll come back, too,’ Sally chimed in. ‘I like your house.’ She laughed. ‘I like any house that doesn’t have naughty cupids on the ceiling!’

      Brustein’s eyes widened. ‘I had heard rumours.’

      ‘All true,’ Bright said. ‘I assure you that I bought the scurrilous place for the view!’

      Between the two of them, Sally and her admiral spent the next few minutes describing—in muted tones—the result of one old rogue’s hobbyhorse. The tea level lowered in the pot and the cakes vanished one by one. When they finished, Brustein told them of his arrival in England in 1805 from Frankfurt-am-Main at the request of his cousin, Nathan Rothschild, who had begun his British sojourn in Manchester as a cloth merchant.

      ‘When Nathan got into the London Exchange, he needed more help, but I found life more to my liking in Devonshire.’ Brustein sat back, and Sally was quick to position his ottoman under short legs. ‘Thank you, my dear. Admiral, she is a treasure!’

      ‘I know,’ Bright said softly, which made Sally’s face go warm. ‘And she blushes.’ He smiled at her, and was kind enough to change the subject. ‘Do you still go into the office, sir?’

      ‘Once in a while. I have turned the business over to my sons, David and Samuel. William Carter died several years ago, and we bought out his family. We’ll keep the respectability of the Carter name, though.’

      He pulled out a pocket watch then, and gave the Brights an apologetic glance. ‘I must end this delightful gathering,’ he said, the regret obvious in his voice. ‘My wife, Rivka, is not well, and I usually spend most of my morning with her. She will wonder where I have gone.’

      ‘We wouldn’t dream of keeping you any longer,’ Sally said quickly.

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