“But Mrs. Hart?”
“Mrs. Hart is a woman capable of great things. You cannot suppose I have not made myself acquainted with all her qualities of head and disposition. I have often most deeply and sincerely wished she could be the channel of communications with you which will become invaluable as the revolution darkens down upon us. She is capable of it in every way if I could receive her as a friend—but you know I cannot.”
“Let us be plain,” said Sir William. “Does Your Majesty mean you could receive the humbly born Emma Hart as a friend if her position were legalized?”
“I could certainly receive the Ambassadress as a friend. What should stop me? In fact, what else could I do? You would naturally have your King’s permission for such a marriage. I have reason to believe it would ease your own position. But this is intruding impertinently on your private life, Eccellenza, and I fear my deep anxiety for the interests of my own kingdom has led me into an impertinence for which I ask your pardon.”
It was beautifully said. If Marie Caroline had professed enthusiasm either for beauty or virtue Hamilton would not have believed a word she said. What she put forward he knew to be true, and he could appreciate its weight. Every day, every hour had taught him also that an English-Sicilian alliance would soon be vital to the life of Europe.
He went away with much to consider, to the delightful companionship in which Emma never failed him. Her sweetness was the very sunshine of his age. The mere fear of losing it made the air chill about him.
Another circumstance drove him in the direction where the Queen and the Duchess of Argyll were steadily pointing. Some connections of his, the Heneage Legges, had come to Naples, partly in the train of the Duchess, partly with some discreet curiosity on Mr. Heneage Legge’s part as to the ménage of the Palazzo Sessa. He had visited in Edgware Row in the Greville days: he possessed his own knowledge and his own views as to the present experiment. Naturally, when he paid his respects to the Ambassador, Mrs. Heneage Legge did not accompany him.
“She would have been delighted to visit you, Sir William, and renew a pleasant acquaintance but my wife’s health at present forbids her visiting as largely as she could wish. And you are aware there are also difficulties into which I need not enter.”
There was no more to be said. When a lady’s health blocks the way a gentleman must stand aside, but Sir William drew his lips tighter, and thought the freedoms of relationship detestable. The laxity of Naples; the Duchess’s, the Queen’s, consideration had spoiled his sense of the fitness of things. He thought his Emma’s company certainly good enough for a Mrs. Heneage Legge, who would probably soon be taught better by the attention paid to the Lady of the Embassy by persons much higher in rank than herself.
And then Emma’s good nature precipitated the mischief. She met the lady at the Villa Columbaia and, undaunted by a cold curtsey, must needs volunteer through a lady in waiting of the Queen’s to visit and befriend Mrs. Heneage Legge when she was seized by the languorous malaria of the autumn. She sincerely felt for her, but apart from that, anything that could consolidate her position with the English, was valuable.