Soul

‘I will try. If you wish, you could observe and take notes.’

‘You would not employ Mr Campbell for such a task?’

‘From now on, the two of you shall work side by side.’

‘Will he agree to such an arrangement?’

‘He will have no choice.’

‘Then I think I should welcome the distraction. Thank you.’

The Colonel smiled again more warmly. ‘Enough of that.’

Trying to conceal his immense relief he moved toward her then drew her to her feet and led her into the master bedroom. Pulling at the buttons of her blouse, he began to undress her.

The laudanum made Lavinia a somnambulist, hovering above James’s caresses—until he touched her sex. Then she pulled his mouth to hers, hands, arms, fingers clawing desperately to reclaim the lovemaking they had lost themselves in so many months before.

James, overwhelmed by the familiar yet estranged body under his hands, could not repress the images that flared over his wife’s breasts, her hips, her mouth. A young man—his neck, the touch of his hands, his mouth. James pushed against her while secretly craving the hardness of the youth’s body beneath his own.

I can find myself again; I can, and I must, he told himself over and over, while Lavinia, burying her face against his neck, allowed his lovemaking to eclipse all but the faintest sense of betrayal.

52

THE DAYS DRIFTED THROUGH summer. Lavinia had rejected most of the social invitations that Lady Morgan had organised for her. She wanted to believe her husband’s reassurances that he no longer socialised with Hamish Campbell outside of his research.

Before breakfast, Aloysius would drive Lavinia to Ladies’ Mile. At the same time, Colonel Huntington took a brisk ride down the tree-lined avenue of Rotten Row. After breakfast, Lavinia would retire to her study to pay the household bills, with Mrs Beetle supervising, while the Colonel continued with his anthropological work, accompanied by Hamish Campbell.

After lunch, Lavinia would join the two men at their labour. The atmosphere in the study was most uncomfortable. Hamish Campbell worked on one side of the huge centre table, his notes and drawings spread before him. Lavinia sat on the other side, the herbs and dried fungi in their jars and on specimen plates creating a barrier between her and the youth.

The two barely conversed, except to exchange the minimal courtesies. If the Colonel happened to be in the room, they both attempted to monopolise his conversation in the most competitive manner.

Gradually James became more attentive, insisting on weekly sojourns to the duck pond at Hyde Park with Lavinia and Aidan, and calling Lavinia to his bed—evidence he had foregone his previous ways and was giving himself solely to her.

Lavinia, for her part, had examined her situation from many angles and concluded that she still loved him and could not leave him. With each day spent by her husband’s side, she felt her anger and resentment dissolving. Determined to be an attentive wife, she vowed to ignore Lady Morgan’s warnings.

Some weeks later, the Huntingtons and Hamish Campbell found themselves together in the members’ stand at Hurlingham to view a polo match between the Horse Guards and a Monmouthshire team.

Shouting encouragement to a cousin who rode with the Horse Guards, the Colonel appeared indifferent to Lavinia’s and Hamish’s discomfort. The two sat stiffly beside each other while the riders thudded past, polo sticks swinging, pushing their mounts through the cruel twists of the sport.

The Horse Guards had the advantage until a particularly skilful player darted between his opponents, his stick whirling like a baton, monopolised the ball and whacked it between the poles to secure a win.

‘Damnation! I have just lost twenty guineas!’ The Colonel collapsed back onto his seat.

A woman several rows away turned at his voice. ‘Ahh! The elusive Colonel James Huntington!’ Before any of them had time to respond, Lady Morgan was busy weaving her way through the chairs and picnic baskets.

Once before them, she studied the party with an aggrieved air. ‘All three of you have been the most absent of friends.’ She turned to Lavinia. ‘I’m afraid your presentation to the Queen is now quite out of the question. As you did not respond to my note about the date I had proposed, I’m afraid I was forced to cancel it.’

‘I apologise, Lady Morgan. I have been much occupied of late.’

Lady Morgan peered under Lavinia’s straw bonnet.

‘Indeed, Mrs Huntington, I do hope it was n

ot due to illness? You appear to be wearing a wig.’

Lavinia turned a beetroot red and the Colonel stepped forward protectively.

‘Lady Morgan, what a fortuitous coincidence. You must forgive us, we have all been busy with my current academic pursuits. You see, I have now recruited two assistants.’