Rose Tremain - Restoration

What I could not foresee was how I was to find any remedy for Celia's grief. I knew myself inadequate to the task. I was not Fabricius. I was not even Pearce. I had no wisdom.

This ague of mine, got no doubt from the extremes of heat and cold through which not only my body but my mind had passed in the preceding night and day, forced me to remain in my truckle bed at the Old House for an entire week.

When my fever worsened and I began to detect in my groin and in my neck some slight swelling, terror filled my heart. Plague was coming and where might it arrive more swiftly than to the malodorous Lambeth marshes? For more than fifty hours I imagined myself dying. I wept and cried out. I beseeched my poor burned mother to intercede with God for me, knowing my own prayers to be unheard. "Dear parents," I heard myself say in my delirium, "make God the gift of a hat. He is fond of plumes. Give Him a fine hat in exchange for my life!" I ranted and blubbed. My cowardice was as infinite as a well sunk from Norfolk to Chengchow.

Then on the third day, my fever lessened and my swellings began to go down. To the poor serving woman who brought me broth, I declared that I had been resurrected, which statement she read as an out-and-out blasphemy and quickly made the sign of the cross upon her bosom.

Still somewhat weak from my illness I took a stage coach to Newmarket, where I spent the night. At dawn the following morning, I was reunited with Danseuse and gratified by the little whinny of delight with which the mare greeted me. I am most fond of animals. I enjoy about them, in equal measure, that which is graceful and that which is gross. And they do not scheme. No man, woman or child exists in this boisterous Kingdom who is not full of plotting, yet the animals and the birds have not one good ploy between them. It is for this reason above all others, I suspect, that the King is so attached to his dogs.

Danseuse galloped home like a chariot horse, her spirits far out-distancing mine on this return journey. Though I clung to the reins and pressed my knees ardently to her sides, she unseated me near Flixton and as I lay winded in a ditch I suddenly perceived, not far from me, an old wrinkled woman lifting her hessian skirts and pissing onto the brambles. It amused me and I would have bid her good-day, except that I had no breath within me.

I struggled upright at last and remounted Danseuse, who was foraging for grass in the frosty lane. I tried to persuade her to trot sedately for a while, but she would not and we arrived at last at Bidnold in an unseemly sweat.

My clothes being frankly filthy and full of stench, I was in no mind to talk to Celia until I had soaked for some hours in a hot bath and put on clean linen. I called at once for Will (who reminds me sometimes of a small, nimble animal in his unquestioning loyalty to me) and within a short time I lay at my ease in a tub, regarding the moths on my stomach, while Will poured more and more hot water round me and I told him of my stay at the Old House and how Death had come into the room and laid an icy hand on me and caused me to snivel like a baby.

"If plague does come to Norfolk," I said to Will, "I shall try to show courage, but I am bitterly afraid it will be the false courage of a desperate man and not the true bravery of one whose mind and spirit are at peace."

Will shook his head, about to flatter me, no doubt, with his erroneous belief that when the hour approached I would conduct myself like a Parfit Gentil Knight, but before he could speak we heard suddenly the most lovely sound of a viola da gamba, coming, it seemed, from beneath us in my Music Room.

I sat up, causing a small tidal wave to splash over the rim of the tub. "Will," I said, "who is playing?"

"Ah," said Will, "I was about to inform you, Sir Robert: your wife's father is come."

"Sir Joshua?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Sir Joshua has come to Bidnold. But why, Will?"

"I do not really know, Sir, except or unless it be to take your wife home."

"Take her home ?"

"Yes."

"You heard that mentioned?"

"Yes, I did, Sir. That as soon as you were returned, they would leave."

The music continued. I began vigorously to soap my body. I heard myself say to Will very tetchily that I would not permit Sir Joshua to take my wife away, that the King had commanded that she reside with me and that, besides, I had much to discuss with her.

Will gaped at me, being surprised, I dare say, at my apparent strength of feeling upon a subject to which he believed me to be utterly indifferent.

Bathed and scented, with a clean wig concealing my hog's bristles and a blue silk coat upon my back, I descended my stairs. As I did so, the sound of the viola ceased and I became aware – as so often in the wake of pleasant music – of the degree to which my mind is lightened by it, as if it gave to the dark mass of my brain a momentary sheen such as I had perceived upon the viscera of the King's toad.

A moment later, Sir Joshua recommenced his playing. This time, it was a song I had heard long ago at Cambridge, entitled I Lay Me Down in a Wood of Elm , a most sweet tune but with the scansion a little strained, there not being a great abundance of words that rhyme with "elm". I stood in my hallway and listened as an exquisitely high and beautiful voice began to sing. It was Celia's voice, which I had never until this moment heard, but which I now knew to be a soprano of astonishing purity. A cold shiver of delight ran through me. More than her white skin, more than her languid, silky hair, more than her small mouth or her firm breasts, it was surely this voice of hers which had so charmed and seduced the King. Compared to it, her person was nothing, pretty enough, womanly enough, but giving no hint that concealed within it lay a matchless sound. I sat down on a tapestry-covered stool and fell to considering the probability that every one of us conceals some secret talent, though what mine may be I was not yet able to determine. Pearce's, despite his harsh criticisms of the world and most things within it, was a talent for kindness. Violet's, I was tempted to suggest, was anger, for I knew of no other person in whom rage was more delicious or becoming. And the King's? Well, he was a person of a thousand talents, but whether there was yet one more that he kept secret from us all, only time will reveal.

The song continued. "Celia, Celia," I wanted to ask, "why did no one tell me how exquisitely you sing?" And a vision of myself, suddenly skilled upon my oboe, playing enraptured while my wife sang, momentarily rilled my mind. How different, how ordered and knowable life would be, if it could be arranged around a simple duet! As it was, I knew that the moment I entered the Music Room Celia would stop singing. I could play no part whatsoever in her music and by tonight she would be gone to her parents' house and Bidnold would be utterly silent, except for the occasional trilling of my Indian Nightingale. I took out of my pocket an emerald-coloured handkerchief and blew my nose, still intermittently blocked with mucus. I felt myself once again excluded from something to which I desired to contribute – however negligible my contribution might be. There is, I said to myself, as I stowed away my handkerchief, a degree of sadness in this observation.

I stood up. As soon as Celia knew of my return, she would press me for news of her situation and the moment was approaching when I would have to say what I had planned, thus smothering in her heart the small ember of hope which Pearce had led me to recognise as so fearful a thing. But as I walked towards the Music Room, I knew that I had faltered: I could not utter the words I had decided upon. For I knew beyond question that if I said them Celia's indifference towards me would turn again to loathing. As Cleopatra whipped the bearers of bad tidings, so Celia would flay me with her scorn and hatred. I, who was nothing to her, would become less than nothing. She would leave my house for ever and the whole magnificent story that the King had set in train would have reached an ending, long before its proper course had been run. And besides… ah, dangerous consideration!… I did not want to relinquish Celia's voice. So there you have it. At whatever cost to Celia's sanity and mine, I had become determined to keep her with me under my roof, at least for the two months decreed by the King.