Page 6

CHAPTER V

Fanny’s nerves were still raw on the following morning, when her fiancé drove her over to see Mersham-le-Hatch: the seat of the Knatchbulls and her future home.

‘And here it is,’ Sir Edward exclaimed as he steered the gig through the gate, pulled on the reins and the couple drew up in front of the mansion.

‘Oh, Sir Edward!’ Although her heart would always belong, first and forever, to her sweet Godmersham, Fanny could not help but be encouraged by the vision before her. ‘It is indeed as fine as everyone says.’

The house comprised an impressive four-storey central building from which immense wings reached out on either side. This may well have been the first domestic residence which Adam designed, but Fanny could appreciate that it still stood as an almost perfect exemplar of the architect’s style.

‘And do look! All the servants assembled to meet us.’ Indeed, the staff was so very enormous – well over twenty in uniform! – as to strike fear into Fanny’s young heart. Having run Godmersham entirely alone, she had thought of herself as experienced. But here were many more than she was used to. How was she to cope?

The imposing facade of red brick was broken up with decorations of stucco. Either side of the great portico – and the wide flight of stone steps that led to it – were alcoves housing large, white, beautifully carved figures of marble. Fanny, whose once-favourite governess was almost over-fond of all things classical, was able to identify them at once. ‘The Four Seasons!’ she exclaimed.

Sir Edward alighted from the gig, walked around to offer Fanny his hand and said: ‘The figures you see before you represent the Four Seasons.’ As if he had not heard her, although Fanny could not see how that could be.

Sir Edward lowered her to the drive, tucked her hand under his arm, and proceeded to guide her. With her eyes on the central elevation, Fanny opened her mouth with the intention of speech.

‘Although,’ her fiancé cut in, ‘this is the first such residence to be completed by the Great Architect.’

Fanny glanced at him sideways. Not only was this acceptably common knowledge among Kent’s landed families, but Sir Edward had already mentioned the fact to her several times before. Might she remind him?

‘… exemplar of Robert Adam’s style.’

She decided she should very much not. ‘Is that so?’

Sir Edward, she realised, was at his happiest when in the position of being able to explain.

They met every member of staff, with Fanny pursuing a short chat with each, at the same time as trying to memorise every name she was given, before Sir Edward could send them all back to work and the couple was once more alone. And for the next half an hour, they walked peaceably around the grounds to the front of the establishment, while Sir Edward explained, at length, to his kind heart’s content.

‘The brick wall that runs around the kitchen garden is in fact more than just an attractive feature …’

‘Indeed?’ Fanny obliged.

‘It also performs the vital function …’

Her interested ignorance seemed to bring so much pleasure Fanny found it hard to begrudge. ‘How very clever that is.

‘And how is the accommodation arranged?’ Fanny was looking back to the house now, and struck by the generosity of the size of each wing. ‘East and west, for example: are all the rooms guest suites?’ She rather hoped not. To have to entertain on quite such a scale could prove rather daunting.

‘The west houses the library at ground level with domestic offices beneath,’ Sir Edward supplied. ‘The east wing is entirely the nursery.’

‘All of it?’ Fanny could count at least ten windows.

‘I believe so,’ he replied. ‘The general idea is that there is room for all the children to live there until their majority. I gather it works very well. Mrs Andrews has been running it for years.’

Fanny studied the section. Alone, it was something of the size of, say, a good rectory. ‘And where does it connect with the main house?’ She scoped the elevation. ‘I cannot detect the join.’

Sir Edward furrowed his brow. ‘I believe it is possible to travel from one to the other from somewhere on the first floor, possibly the second – or is it the basement, now one comes to think? I cannot say that I have often had cause to visit it. Remind me to ask someone for you.’

‘And, sir – forgive me – but shall we be seeing your boys today? I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting the three youngest, and should very much like to.’

As Fanny was to be their new mother, the request was hardly over-assiduous. Indeed, now she thought, might it not have been preferable to meet children even before servants? Yet still, it prompted her fiancé to turn and gaze at her with a whole new affection.

‘That is a kind thought, madam.’ Sir Edward’s dear face was awash with pleasure. ‘ Thank you for your interest. I shall have them brought out to us later. Now, shall we continue?’

Mersham-le-Hatch – or simply Hatch, as it was commonly known – was unusual in having two principal entrances, of equal usage. They had arrived on the south side – looking over the stables and closest to the cricket field – which served its purpose best in the summer months. There, guests could arrive, clean and dry, and swan through the great door and into the reception hall.

The north, though, where the couple now headed, was blessed with the view. Fanny gasped. Beyond the carriage sweep and terrace, the land fell – swooping – away from them. At the bottom, a fine lake glittered and beyond it, rich and verdant, half of Kent draped itself – voluptuously spread out like an artist’s model desperate to draw in the eye.

Fanny asked a few questions about visible landmarks which she already knew well, then turned to take in this other elevation and was surprised to discover it had a whole extra storey. This front door, large but essentially plain, opened on to the lower ground floor and offered a discreet vestibule in which one could shed one’s damp, muddy clothing – deposit it all in the boot- or cloakroom – and repair oneself in private before one was received. This was favoured in winter.

Together they entered, took the marble stairs up to the ground floor, stood in the hall, the central point from which all the suites radiated. And there stood the four boys, all in a row.

Poor Norton she already knew and, sadly, he was unchanged by being on home territory. Charles was nine years of age, Wyndham, eight: average-looking fellows, each much of a muchness, who bowed nicely enough. Then the youngest broke with the ranks and rushed up to her skirts.

‘The new mama!’ he cried out in excitement, while burying his face in her pale pink muslin. ‘At last , the mama .’

Fanny put a hand on his fair head, and was overcome with a heady combination of sympathy and terror. This must be the one whose birth had brought on the demise of his mother. Poor little creature. He would need her to love him.

While she quailed at the challenge ahead of her, she lifted his face, said, ‘So I take it you are John?’ Saw his face wet with tears, worried he might have dampened her frock, and added, ‘How lovely to meet you all!’

At which Sir Edward, beaming with satisfaction at her apparently touching performance, bade the nurse take them away and they went on with the tour.

There! That was behind her. No one could accuse her now of not knowing the children. They had all seemed perfectly manageable and, anyway, by the time of the long-distant wedding, would be several years older and closer to adulthood. Fanny felt greatly relieved.

Then she entered the drawing room, and there her heart fell. ‘Oh.’ Indeed, the situation was so extreme Fanny was at a loss as to how she might hide her true feelings.

‘The architecture is simply magnificent.’ This was inarguable. The drawing room was a large – in fact, it was enormous – semi-circle, its floor-to-ceiling windows leading out to a balcony which curved around the extent and provided a height which improved upon the already spectacular views.

‘And the ceiling!’ She stood in the centre and bent her long neck to study the gilding upon the stucco. ‘Among the finest I have had the privilege to see.’ But the glaringly obvious must, at some point, be mentioned. Though Fanny did try hard not to stare at the walls, it was like trying not to stare at a boil on a nose: the eye simply insisted on looking. ‘Am I right in thinking that in here , some objects may have lately been moved ?’

The financial affairs of Sir Edward’s late father had been much discussed in local circles. His three wives, nineteen children and unfortunate liberal tendencies had inevitably combined to throw up the occasional crisis, to which London’s sale rooms were the most common solution.

‘It is true, there were one or two more’ – Sir Edward cleared his throat – ‘pictures in the rooms a few years ago.’ He was clearly in some discomfort.

The panelling, which Fanny could not help but notice was some distance from clean, had huge gaps upon it – dark squares outlining where any pictures had been. She walked through the huge double doors that led into the dining room – the size of the cricket pitch, with long east-facing windows – where a very large mirror had once adorned the chimney breast and also left its strong mark. It was clear from the dust that there had once been carpets throughout. Now the scuffed boards were bare.

‘And my man tells me,’ Sir Edward confessed, ‘that the ceiling in here is in some reasonable danger of – er – collapse.’

‘Yes,’ Fanny nodded. ‘That I can see.’

‘Shall I show you the library?’ he offered. Then, on seeing Fanny’s expression: ‘Or have you—’

‘I think, my dear sir,’ she said gently, ‘I have seen enough.’

‘Quite so.’ Sir Edward stood upright and clasped his hands behind his back. ‘Improvements are to be made to both house and grounds and, madam, I would like to assure you, will start in the New Year.’ It was clear that he was almost frightened by the thought of how Fanny might react.

‘And what an exciting project that will prove to be.’ Fanny smiled warmly. ‘The house has its own great natural beauty.’ She tucked her hand back under his arm and led him in the direction of the south door. ‘As does the park.

‘What pleasure you will have, sir, in restoring it to its rightful appearance.’ They walked out on to the steps, and she looked around her. ‘It will take a long time, of course, but I hope to be there, by your side, and doing my utmost to support you at every turn.’

They arrived back on the gravel, and Fanny smiled up at the Seasons. Nobody could possibly expect her to live here in its current condition!

‘I am so delighted we came.’

Now she had seen it, she could be sure that there was no other viable option than to stay living at Godmersham for many months yet to come.

Her much-desired long engagement was quite guaranteed.