Julian Fellowes - Belgravia. Julian Fellowesbelgravia Fellowes Belgravia epub

To my wife Emma, without whom my life would hardly be possible

JULIAN FELLOWES’S is an unregistered trade mark of Julian Fellowes and is used by The Orion Publishing Group Limited under license

BELGRAVIA is a registered trade mark of The Orion Publishing Group Limited

The right of Julian Fellowes to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

Imogen Edwards-Jones acted as an editorial consultant on the creation of Julian Fellowes’s Belgravia

Lindy Woodhead acted as a historical consultant on the creation of Julian Fellowes’s Belgravia

First published as Julian Fellowes's Belgravia by Weidenfeld & Nicolson, London

Translation from English by Elena Kislenkova

Cover design by Victoria Manatskova

Map made by Yulia Katashinskaya

1. From the ball to the battle

The past, as we have been repeatedly told, is a foreign country, where everything is different. Perhaps this is indeed true. Well, before, everything really was completely different when we talk about morality and traditions, the role of women or the power of the aristocracy, as well as a million other components of everyday life. But along with this there are similarities. Ambition, envy, anger, greed, kindness, selflessness and, above all, love played no less a role in the old days than today. This story is about people who lived two centuries ago, but many of the aspirations and passions that raged in their hearts were surprisingly similar to the dramas that are played out in our time in a new way...

You would never have thought that the city was on the brink of war, and it looked even less like the capital of a country that less than three months ago had been torn from one kingdom and annexed to another. Brussels in June 1815 seemed to be immersed in a festive atmosphere. The motley rows of markets rustled, open carriages rolled along wide avenues, delivering noble ladies and their daughters on urgent social matters. It was as if everyone was unaware that Emperor Napoleon was advancing and could set up camp near the city at any moment.

All this was of little interest to Sophia Trenchard. She pushed through the crowd with a determination that belied her age: Sofia was only eighteen years old. Like any well-bred young lady, especially in a foreign country, she was accompanied by her chambermaid Jane Croft, who was only four years older than her mistress. Although now the role of a protector, protecting her companion from sensitive collisions with pedestrians, was rather played by Sofia, whom, it seemed, nothing could stop. She was pretty, and even very, in the classic English manner, blue-eyed blonde, but from the sharp outline of her mouth it was clear that this girl would not ask her mother’s permission before rushing into an adventure.

- Hurry up, otherwise he will go to lunch, and it will turn out that we walked such a distance in vain!

Sofia was in that time of life through which almost everyone goes: when childhood is already behind, and apparent maturity, not burdened by life experience, inspires a young man or girl with the confidence that they can do anything, and this continues until true adulthood convinces does not prove that this is far from the case.

“Miss, I can’t go faster,” Jane grumbled, and as if to prove her words, the hussar, who was hurrying somewhere, pushed the girl away and didn’t even bother to apologize. - Just like on the battlefield!

Unlike her mistress, Jane could not boast of beauty, but she had a pleasant face, energetic and rosy, although it would have looked more natural on country paths than on city streets.

She, too, was not timid, and the young mistress liked it.

– I thought you were stronger!

Sofia almost reached her goal. From the wide street they turned into a courtyard where, apparently, there had once been a cattle market, but now the army had requisitioned it for food and ammunition warehouses. Boxes and bales were unloaded from large carts, which were then distributed among the barns around; officers of all regiments moved in an endless stream, walked in groups, talked, and sometimes got into squabbles. The appearance of a beautiful young girl and her maid could not help but attract attention, and for a second all conversation died down, almost stopping.

“Please don’t worry,” Sofia said, looking calmly at the officers. – I came to my father, Mr. Trenchard.

“Do you know how to get there, Miss Trenchard?” – a young man stepped forward.

- I know. Thank you.

Sofia headed to the entrance to the main building that looked more significant than the others, and, accompanied by a trembling Jane, climbed the stairs to the second floor. There were several more officers waiting to be received, but Sofia had no time for etiquette right now. The girl resolutely pushed the door.

- Wait here! – she told the maid.

Jane remained in the waiting room, not without pleasure, catching the curious glances of men.

The room Sofia entered was bright and spacious. In the center of it stood a substantial desk of polished mahogany, and all the other furniture was chosen in the same style, but the furnishings were more suited to commercial affairs than to social ones. This was a place of work, not play. In the corner, a burly man in his forties was instructing an officer in a shiny uniform.

- Why the hell are they interrupting me? “He turned around sharply, but at the sight of his daughter his mood changed, and a gentle smile lit up his angry red face. - Well? – he asked, but Sofia looked expressively at the officer. The father nodded. “Captain Cooper, please forgive me.”

- It's okay, Trenchard...

- Trenchard?

- Mr. Trenchard. But we need flour by evening. My commander made me promise that I would not return without her.

“Captain, I promise to do everything in my power.”

The officer was clearly annoyed, but was forced to agree to at least this, since he would not have achieved anything better anyway. Nodding, Cooper left, and the father was left alone with his daughter.

- Did you get it? – he asked with visible excitement.

From the outside it looked very touching: a business man, overweight and balding, was in impatient excitement, like a child on the eve of Christmas.

As slowly as possible, stretching the pause until it was impossible, Sofia opened her reticule and carefully took out white cardboard rectangles.

- As many as three! - she said, enjoying her triumph. – One for you, one for mom and one for me.

Trenchard almost snatched the cards from her hands. He could not have been more impatient even if he had lived for a month without food or water. Embossed on the invitations in simple and elegant letters was:

Trenchard looked at the invitation in amazement.

“I assume Lord Bellasis will be at this dinner?”

- Of course, the duchess is his own aunt.

- Yes of course.

- By the way, there will be no lunch. I mean a real, big lunch. Just family and a few people visiting the Richmonds.

– They always say that there won’t be a dinner, but usually they still organize it.

– Didn’t expect you to be invited?

James Trenchard dreamed of getting there, but did not count on such luck.

- Lord, how glad I am!

– Edmund says that dinner will be served after midnight.

“Don’t call him Edmund anywhere else, only in front of me!” – the father remarked sternly. But his fleeting annoyance was again replaced by glee, immediately dispelled by the mere thought of the upcoming event. - Go back to your mother. She needs to get ready, every minute counts.

Too young and unreasonably self-confident to realize the enormity of her success, Sofia, being also more pragmatic in such matters than her father, who revered the powers that be, objected:

– It’s too late to order a dress.

“But there’s plenty of time to get yourself into proper shape.”

“I’m afraid mom won’t want to go to the ball.”

- It will go wherever it goes.

Sofia started towards the door when she remembered something else.

- When will we tell mom everything? – she asked, glaring at her father.

The question took Trenchard by surprise and he began fiddling with his gold watch chain. There was an awkward silence. It seemed that everything was exactly the same as a second ago, but the atmosphere in the room had changed in some subtle way. Any outside observer would have easily noticed that the subject of discussion suddenly became much more serious than the choice of clothing for the upcoming ball at the duchess.

“Not yet,” the father answered decisively. – First you need to prepare everything thoroughly. We must follow his example. Now go. And call that stupid idiot back.

The daughter obeyed and slipped out of the room, but even after her departure James Trenchard remained just as alarmed. A scream came from the street. He went to the window, looked down and saw an officer arguing with a merchant.

Then the door opened and Captain Cooper entered. Trenchard nodded at him. Whatever happens, business comes first.

Sofia turned out to be right. Mother did not want to go to the ball.

– We were invited only because someone else refused at the last moment!

- Do you really care?

- How stupid all this is! – Mrs. Trenchard shook her head. “We won’t see a single familiar face there!”

- Dad will probably meet someone he knows.

Sometimes Anna Trenchard was annoyed by her children. Despite the condescending tone in which the daughter and son spoke to their mother, they did not know life at all. The father, who doted on his offspring, spoiled them so much that they eventually began to take their good fortune for granted and hardly thought about it. Both knew nothing about the long journey their parents had taken to reach their current position, although Anna herself remembered every step she took on this rocky road.

“He will meet acquaintances there - several officers who come to him on duty and give him orders. And they will be incredibly surprised to learn that in the same ballroom with them there is a man who supplies their soldiers with food supplies.

“I hope you won’t talk to Lord Bellasis like that?”

Mrs. Trenchard's face softened a little.

“My dear,” she said and took her daughter’s hand. - Beware of building castles in the air.

Sofia pulled her fingers back:

- Well, of course, you don’t believe in his noble intentions!

“On the contrary, I am sure that Lord Bellasis is a worthy man.” And, no doubt, very pleasant.

- You see now!

“But he is the eldest son of the count, my child, with all the responsibilities that such a position imposes on him.” He cannot choose a wife for himself, following only the dictates of his heart. I'm not angry. You are both young and beautiful, you flirted a little - it’s okay: it won’t harm either of you. Bye. – Anna emphasized the last word, so it became clear what she was driving at. – Sofia, but all this must end before any talk discrediting you begins, otherwise you will suffer, not him.

“And in your opinion, the fact that Lord Bellasis got us an invitation to his aunt’s ball means nothing?”

“It just means that you’re a nice girl and he wants to please you.” In London, Lord Bellasis would not have been able to arrange such a thing, but in Brussels everything bears the mark of war, so that the usual rules no longer apply.

The last words outraged Sofia seriously.

“Are you saying that, according to the usual rules, we are inappropriate company for friends of the Duchess?”

Mrs. Trenchard was, in her own way, as strong-willed as her daughter.

“That’s exactly what I want to say, and you know it’s true.”

- Dad wouldn't agree with you.

“He has been on the road to success for a long time, has traveled a much longer path than many can imagine, and does not notice the obstacles that could prevent him from going further. Be content with what we have. Your father achieved a lot. This is something to be proud of.

The door opened and Mrs. Trenchard's maid came in with an evening dress:

- Ma'am, am I too early?

- No, no, Ellis, come in. We ended the conversation, right, Sofia?

- If you think so, mommy. – Sofia left the room, but judging by her upturned chin, she left undefeated.

It was clear from Ellis's expressive silence that she was eager to find out what the disagreement was about, but Anna waited a few minutes while the maid hovered around her, undoing buttons and taking the day dress off her mistress's shoulders, and only then said:

“We were invited on the fifteenth to a ball hosted by the Duchess of Richmond.

- Yes you!

Usually Mary Ellis was excellent at keeping her feelings to herself, but such stunning news unsettled her. However, the chambermaid quickly pulled herself together:

“I wanted to say, we need to decide about the dress, ma’am.” If so, it will take me a while to prepare it.

– What if I wear blue silk? I haven't worn it much this season. Tell you what, please look for some black lace on the neckline and on the sleeves to liven it up a little.

Anna Trenchard was a practical woman, but not without vanity. Slender figure, chiseled profile, thick brown hair - she could still be considered a beauty. However, she did not allow this thought to go to her head.

Ellis crouched down, unfolding her straw-colored taffeta evening dress so that her mistress could step into it.

-What about the decorations, ma'am?

– I haven’t thought about it yet. I'll probably wear what I have.

Anna turned her back so that the maid could fasten the gilded buttons. Perhaps she treated Sophia too harshly, but Anna did not regret it. The daughter had her head in the clouds, like her father, and careless dreams lead to disaster. Anna smiled involuntarily. She said James had come a long way, but sometimes she thought even Sophia didn't quite understand how long it had been.

“I assume it was Lord Bellasis who arranged for you to be invited to the ball?” – Ellis, who sat down at the mistress’s feet to help her change her shoes, looked at her from below.

And I immediately realized that Mrs. Trenchard did not like the question. Why would the maid suddenly be interested in how exactly they were included in the list of the chosen ones invited to the ball, and why they were invited somewhere at all? Anna chose to ignore the question. But it got her thinking about the strangeness of their life in Brussels, and how everything had changed for them since her husband had caught the eye of the heroic Duke of Wellington. True, we must give James Trenchard his due: no matter the circumstances - no matter how fierce the battle was, no matter how deserted the area - he always knew how, as if by magic, to get provisions from somewhere. No wonder the Duke called him the Wizard. It seems that James actually was one, or at least tried to seem like one. But success only inflated his exorbitant ambitions. Anna's husband dreamed of climbing to the unattainable heights of society, and his progress up the social ladder only suffered from this. James Trenchard, the son of a simple merchant, whom Anna's father had categorically forbidden her to marry, considered it quite natural that the duchess would accept them. Anna would have called his ambitions ridiculous, if not for one circumstance: they had already inexplicably come true more than once.

Mrs. Trenchard was much more educated than her husband, as befits the daughter of a schoolmaster. When they first met, such a match was simply dizzyingly profitable for him, but now Anna perfectly understood that during this time James had gone far ahead. She even began to wonder how much longer she could keep up with his fantastic rise. Maybe when the children become adults, she should retire to the village, settle in a simple rural house and let her husband make his way to the top on his own?

From the silence of the hostess, Ellis intuitively felt that she had asked at the wrong time. She wanted to say some kind of compliment to make amends, but then she decided to just sit quietly: let the storm calm down by itself.

The door opened slightly and James looked into the room.

– Has Sofia already told you? He arranged everything!

Anna glanced at the maid:

- Thank you, Ellis. Please come back to me after a while.

The maid left. James couldn't help but smile.

“You reprimand me for making plans that do not correspond to my humble position, and you yourself send off the maid as if you were a duchess yourself.”

“I hope you’re joking,” Anna bristled.

- So what? What do you have against the Duchess of Richmond?

– Absolutely nothing for the simple reason that I don’t know her at all, just like you. – Anna wanted to add a touch of reality to this absurdity. “That is why we cannot afford to impose ourselves on a poor woman and take up seats in a crowded ballroom that should rightfully be given to her friends.”

But James was too excited to come down to earth so easily.

“You’re not saying this seriously, are you?”

- Seriously, but you won’t even listen!

She turned out to be right. There was no hope of cooling her husband's ardor.

– Annie, such a chance comes once in a lifetime! Just imagine: the Duke will be there! Even two dukes, for that matter. My commander and the husband of our mistress.

- That's it.

- And the Prince of Orange himself! – He fell silent, overwhelmed with delight. – James Trenchard, who started his career behind a stall at Covent Garden Market, is getting ready to dance with a real princess!

– Don’t even think about asking anyone to dance! You'll only put us both in an awkward position.

- Okay, we'll see.

- I am not kidding. It's enough of you egging Sofia on.

James frowned.

“You have no reason to doubt this; the boy has very serious intentions.” I'm sure.

- What nonsense! – Anna shook her head with irritation. “Whatever his intentions, he is not our Sofia’s match.” As for choosing a wife, Lord Bellasis is not his own master, so this story cannot end in anything good.

A roar was heard from the street, and Anna looked out onto the balcony to find out what was happening there. Her bedroom windows looked out onto a wide and busy avenue. Below, several soldiers in scarlet uniforms marched past the house, and the sun's rays sparkled on their gold-embroidered braid.

“How strange,” thought Anna, “everything around is talking about an imminent battle, and we are discussing the upcoming ball.”

She returned to the room.

“We’ll wait and see,” James said, continuing the conversation, stubbornly unwilling to part with his illusions. He had the expression of an offended four-year-old on his face.

“Keep in mind, if all this nonsense you’re telling Sophia gets her into trouble, I’ll only have you to blame.”

- Agreed.

“And to force an unfortunate young man to beg an invitation from his aunt is extremely humiliating.”

James lost his patience.

“You won’t be able to upset our visit!” I won't allow this!

- I don’t need to do anything. Everything will go wrong on its own.

That's where the conversation ended. An angry James rushed to get dressed for dinner, and his wife rang the bell, inviting Ellis back to her place.

Anna was unhappy with herself. She didn't like quarrels, but the story of the invitation to the ball depressed her. Mrs. Trenchard was quite happy with life. They got rich, achieved success, they were sought after in the London business community, but James stubbornly sought to break everything, constantly wanting even more. Now she will be forced into an endless suite of rooms in a house where their family is not loved or valued. She will have to have conversations with people who secretly - or maybe openly - despise them. If it were not for the exorbitant ambitions of the spouse, they would live in peace and mutual respect. Anna thought something like this, at the same time realizing perfectly well that she could not stop her husband. No one in the world can stop James. Such is the nature of this person.

Over the many years that have passed since the Duchess of Richmond's ball, so much has been written about this event that it gradually acquired the luxury and solemnity inherent in the coronation ceremony of a medieval queen. Stories about this evening are found in various works of art; it served as the subject for many paintings, and each new image of it certainly became more pompous than the previous one. Thus, in Henry O’Neill’s 1868 painting, this ball takes place in a spacious palace hall, outlined by a row of huge marble columns; the room is filled to capacity with hundreds of guests who are literally sobbing with grief and horror and looking more colorful than the corps de ballet at the Drury Lane Theatre. As is often the case with key moments in history, the reality was quite different.

The Richmonds came to Brussels partly for reasons of economy, wanting to reduce daily expenses after spending several years abroad, and partly to show solidarity with the Duke of Wellington, their long-time friend, who established his headquarters here. Richmond himself, a former soldier, was given the task of leading the defense of Brussels should the worst happen and the enemy attack the city. The Duke agreed. He understood that this work was mostly rear work, but it also had to be done by someone, and Richmond was pleased to realize that he was part of the military machine, and not an idle observer. There were already plenty of the latter hanging around the city.

There were few palaces in Brussels at that time, and most of them were already occupied, so the Richmonds settled in a house that had previously been occupied by a fashionable carriage maker. This house was located on the Rue de la Blanchissérie, which literally translates from French as Laundry Street, which is why Wellington dubbed the Richmonds’ new home the Bath House. The Duchess liked the joke less than her husband. The room, which we would now call the carriage maker's sales area, was a spacious barn located to the left of the front door, and was entered through a small office where clients once discussed the upholstery of the carriage and other additional details with the master. The Richmonds' third daughter, Lady Georgiana Lennox, refers to this part of the house as a dressing room in her memoirs. The room where ready-made carriages had previously been displayed was covered with wallpaper with images of roses on trellises, and after that the hall was considered suitable for a ball.

The Duchess of Richmond brought her whole family with her to the continent, and since the young girls, deprived of impressions, languished most of all, it was decided to give a party. But in early June, Napoleon, who had escaped that year from exile on the island of Elba, left Paris in search of allies. The Duchess of Richmond asked Wellington whether it was appropriate for her to continue preparing for the entertainment, and he assured his friend's wife that it was quite appropriate. Moreover, the Duke expressed his ardent wish for the ball to take place: this would be both a demonstration of English composure and an occasion to clearly show that even the ladies were little concerned about the approach of the French emperor and refused to deprive themselves of entertainment. Of course, in words everything was easy...

– I hope we are not making a mistake? – the duchess repeated for the twentieth time in the last hour, casting a searching glance at the mirror.

She was quite pleased with what she saw: a stately woman, barely entering adulthood, dressed in light cream silks and still capable of making men turn their heads after her. The diamonds were incomparable, although there was talk among friends that the originals had been replaced with rhinestones to save money.

- It's too late to think about it. – The Duke of Richmond was somewhat amused by what was happening. The couple saw a trip to Brussels as an opportunity to get away from society, but to their surprise, society came with them. And now the wife was throwing a party with such a list of guests that the hostess of any London reception could envy him, while the city, meanwhile, was preparing to hear the roar of French cannons. – It was a wonderful lunch. I simply won't be able to eat anything at dinner.

- Wait, you'll still be hungry.

“I hear a carriage has arrived.” We must go down.

The Duke was a good man, a kind and loving father (his children simply adored him) and had enough strength of character to marry one of the daughters of the notorious Duchess of Gordon, whose adventures for several years provided food for gossip throughout Scotland. At the time, many believed that the Duke could have made a more reliable choice, and perhaps if he had done so, his life would have been simpler, but in any case, Richmond himself did not regret anything. His wife was an extravagant woman, no doubt, but at the same time good-natured, sweet and smart. Richmond was glad that he chose her at the time.

In the small drawing room, or, as Georgiana put it, in the dressing room, through which the guests passed to get to the ballroom, several people who had arrived earlier than everyone else were already waiting. The local flower girls did their best, decorating the room with huge arrangements of pale pink roses and white lilies (all the stamens were carefully removed from them so that the ladies would not get dirty with pollen), complemented by tall green leaves of various shades. The bouquets gave nobility to the coachman's barn. In the flickering glow of numerous candelabra, the room acquired a slight sheen of luxury, which it lacked in daylight.

The duchess's nephew, Edmund, Viscount Bellasis, spoke with the owners' daughter Georgiana. They approached her parents together.

“Who are these people that Edmund made you invite?” Why don't we know them? – the girl asked her mother.

“You’ll find out after tonight,” Lord Bellasis cut into the conversation.

“You’re not very talkative,” Georgiana remarked.

“I hope your mother will not be angry with me,” said the duchess. She, too, was overcome by doubts, and she already regretted her own generosity.

When Edmund asked, his aunt gave him three invitations without hesitation, but now, having thought it over carefully, she realized that her sister would not be happy. And then - what a coincidence! – the voice of the majordomo rang out, announcing:

- Mr. and Mrs. James Trenchard, Miss Sophia Trenchard!

The Duke looked towards the door:

-Have you invited the Wizard? “(The wife responded with a puzzled look.) “This is the nickname of Wellington’s main supplier,” Richmond explained. -What is he doing here?

- Duke of Wellington's quartermaster? – The Duchess turned sternly to her nephew. – I invited a merchant to my ball?

But Lord Bellasis was not so easily disturbed.

– Dear aunt, you have invited one of the most devoted and intelligent assistants of our heroic duke. Believe me, any loyal British citizen would be proud, given the opportunity, to host Mr. Trenchard at his home.

- Edmund, you were playing tricks on me! And I don't like being fooled.

But the young man had already left to meet new guests. The Duchess cast an angry glance at her husband.

He was amused by his wife’s rage:

“Don’t look at me so sternly, darling.” I have nothing to do with this. It was you who invited them. And you can’t help but admit that the intendant’s daughter is very pretty.

At least that was true. Sofia looked more charming than ever today.

Richmond didn't have time to say anything more; the Trenchards had already approached them. Anna spoke first:

“Duchess, it was so kind of you to invite us.”

- Oh, what are you talking about, Mrs. Trenchard? I think you are very kind to my nephew.

“I’m always glad to see Lord Bellasis.”

Anna chose the dress well. The blue silk flattered her slender figure, and the delicate lace that Ellis had found complemented it perfectly. Diamonds, although they could not compete with other jewelry in the hall, nevertheless looked quite decent.

The Duchess involuntarily softened.

“It’s difficult for young people to be far from home,” she said almost kindly.

James was tormented by a nagging thought: should the duchess be addressed as “your grace”? But he held back, not wanting to interfere. It seems that no one took his wife’s words as an insult, but James still had doubts. He opened his mouth...

-Who do I see! Is this really the Wizard? – Richmond beamed quite sincerely. If he was surprised to meet this businessman in his living room, he didn’t show it. – Remember how we prepared several plans in case the reservists were mobilized?

– I remember very well your... your proposal, I wanted to say. Duke.

The last word sounded like a separate phrase that had no connection with the rest of the conversation. And it was as if a pebble had suddenly been thrown into a quiet pond: for a few agonizing seconds, James felt as if the awkwardness of this clumsy statement was spreading around him in waves. But Anna's soft smile and nod reassured him, and Trenchard was relieved that he didn't seem to have embarrassed anyone.

Anna took matters into her own hands:

– Let me introduce you to my daughter Sofia.

Sofia curtsied to the hostess, who looked her up and down as if she were buying venison for dinner (which, of course, she had never done before in her life). The girl was pretty and very graceful, but the look cast at her father again clearly reminded the duchess that there could be no talk of any continuation of this story. The Duchess was afraid that her sister, having learned about this evening, would accuse her of connivance. But Edmund is probably not seriously infatuated with this girl? He was always a prudent boy and never caused his parents the slightest trouble.

- Miss Trenchard, will you allow me to escort you to the dance hall? – Edmund tried to maintain external coldness, but his aunt was not so easily fooled - she knew life too well to be deceived by this feigned indifference.

The Duchess's heart simply sank when she saw how the girl took Edmund's arm and they, whispering, walked together, as if they already belonged to each other.

- Harris! I didn't expect to see you here! – Edmund called out to the pleasant young man. - Meet Major Thomas Harris.

“I need to unwind, too,” said the young officer, bowing to his hosts and smiling at Sofia.

She laughed; they were all happy that they were here together. Sofia and Edmund walked further towards the dance hall, accompanied by a worried look from their aunt. The Duchess involuntarily admitted to herself that they were a very beautiful couple: Sophia's blond hair and grace harmoniously combined with Edmund's dark curls and chiseled features, his manly mouth and cleft chin. The Duchess met her husband's gaze. Both understood that what was happening was almost beyond their control. Or maybe not “almost” anymore.

“Mr. James and Lady Frances Wedderburn-Webster,” announced the majordomo, and the Duke stepped forward to greet the next guests.

To my wife Emma, without whom my life would hardly be possible

JULIAN FELLOWES’S is an unregistered trade mark of Julian Fellowes and is used by The Orion Publishing Group Limited under license

BELGRAVIA is a registered trade mark of The Orion Publishing Group Limited

The right of Julian Fellowes to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

Imogen Edwards-Jones acted as an editorial consultant on the creation of Julian Fellowes’s Belgravia

Lindy Woodhead acted as a historical consultant on the creation of Julian Fellowes’s Belgravia

First published as Julian Fellowes's Belgravia by Weidenfeld & Nicolson, London

Translation from English by Elena Kislenkova

Cover design by Victoria Manatskova

Map made by Yulia Katashinskaya

©?E. Kislenkova, translation, 2017

©?Edition in Russian, design. LLC “Publishing Group “Azbuka-Atticus””, 2017 Publishing house AZBUKA ®

1. From the ball to the battle

The past, as we have been told many times, is a foreign country, where everything is different. 1
?Quote from L. P. Hartley’s “The Go-Between” (1953). In 1985, a book by the famous American historian and geographer David Lowenthal entitled “The Past is a Foreign Country” was also published in Cambridge. – Note here and below. translation

Perhaps this is indeed true. Well, before, everything really was completely different when we talk about morality and traditions, the role of women or the power of the aristocracy, as well as a million other components of everyday life. But along with this there are similarities. Ambition, envy, anger, greed, kindness, selflessness and, above all, love played no less a role in the old days than today. This story is about people who lived two centuries ago, but many of the aspirations and passions that raged in their hearts were surprisingly similar to the dramas that are played out in our time in a new way...

You would never think that the city was on the brink of war, and it looked even less like the capital of a country that less than three months ago was torn from one kingdom and annexed to another 2
?By decision of the Congress of Vienna in 1814–1815.

The Southern Netherlands, previously part of France, became part of the Kingdom of the Netherlands.

. Brussels in June 1815 seemed to be immersed in a festive atmosphere. The motley rows of markets rustled, open carriages rolled along wide avenues, delivering noble ladies and their daughters on urgent social matters. It was as if everyone was unaware that Emperor Napoleon was advancing and could set up camp near the city at any moment.

- Hurry up, otherwise he will go to lunch, and it will turn out that we walked such a distance in vain!

Unlike her mistress, Jane could not boast of beauty, but she had a pleasant face, energetic and rosy, although it would have looked more natural on country paths than on city streets.

She, too, was not timid, and the young mistress liked it.

– I thought you were stronger!

“Please don’t worry,” Sofia said, looking calmly at the officers. – I came to my father, Mr. Trenchard.

“Do you know how to get there, Miss Trenchard?” – a young man stepped forward.

- I know. Thank you.

- Wait here! – she told the maid.

Jane remained in the waiting room, not without pleasure, catching the curious glances of men.

- It's okay, Trenchard...

- Trenchard?

- Mr. Trenchard. But we need flour by evening. My commander made me promise that I would not return without her.

“Captain, I promise to do everything in my power.”

- Did you get it? – he asked with visible excitement.

From the outside it looked very touching: a business man, overweight and balding, was in impatient excitement, like a child on the eve of Christmas.

As slowly as possible, stretching the pause until it was impossible, Sofia opened her reticule and carefully took out white cardboard rectangles.

- As many as three! - she said, enjoying her triumph. – One for you, one for mom and one for me.

Trenchard looked at the invitation in amazement.

“I assume Lord Bellasis will be at this dinner?”

- Of course, the duchess is his own aunt.

- Yes of course.

- By the way, there will be no lunch. I mean a real, big lunch. Just family and a few people visiting the Richmonds.

– They always say that there won’t be a dinner, but usually they still organize it.

– Didn’t expect you to be invited?

James Trenchard dreamed of getting there, but did not count on such luck.

- Lord, how glad I am!

– Edmund says that dinner will be served after midnight.

Too young and unreasonably self-confident to realize the enormity of her success, Sofia, being also more pragmatic in such matters than her father, who revered the powers that be, objected:

– It’s too late to order a dress.

“But there’s plenty of time to get yourself into proper shape.”

“I’m afraid mom won’t want to go to the ball.”

- It will go wherever it goes.

Sofia started towards the door when she remembered something else.

- When will we tell mom everything? – she asked, glaring at her father.

“Not yet,” the father answered decisively. – First you need to prepare everything thoroughly. We must follow his example. Now go. And call that stupid idiot back.

Then the door opened and Captain Cooper entered. Trenchard nodded at him. Whatever happens, business comes first.

Sofia turned out to be right. Mother did not want to go to the ball.

– We were invited only because someone else refused at the last moment!

- Do you really care?

- How stupid all this is! – Mrs. Trenchard shook her head. “We won’t see a single familiar face there!”

- Dad will probably meet someone he knows.

“I hope you won’t talk to Lord Bellasis like that?”

Mrs. Trenchard's face softened a little.

“My dear,” she said and took her daughter’s hand. - Beware of building castles in the air.

Sofia pulled her fingers back:

- Well, of course, you don’t believe in his noble intentions!

“On the contrary, I am sure that Lord Bellasis is a worthy man.” And, no doubt, very pleasant.

- You see now!

“And in your opinion, the fact that Lord Bellasis got us an invitation to his aunt’s ball means nothing?”

The last words outraged Sofia seriously.

“Are you saying that, according to the usual rules, we are inappropriate company for friends of the Duchess?”

Mrs. Trenchard was, in her own way, as strong-willed as her daughter.

“That’s exactly what I want to say, and you know it’s true.”

- Dad wouldn't agree with you.

The door opened and Mrs. Trenchard's maid came in with an evening dress:

- Ma'am, am I too early?

- No, no, Ellis, come in. We ended the conversation, right, Sofia?

- If you think so, mommy. – Sofia left the room, but judging by her upturned chin, she left undefeated.

“We were invited on the fifteenth to a ball hosted by the Duchess of Richmond.

- Yes you!

Usually Mary Ellis was excellent at keeping her feelings to herself, but such stunning news unsettled her. However, the chambermaid quickly pulled herself together:

“I wanted to say, we need to decide about the dress, ma’am.” If so, it will take me a while to prepare it.

– What if I wear blue silk? I haven't worn it much this season. Tell you what, please look for some black lace on the neckline and on the sleeves to liven it up a little.

Ellis crouched down, unfolding her straw-colored taffeta evening dress so that her mistress could step into it.

-What about the decorations, ma'am?

– I haven’t thought about it yet. I'll probably wear what I have.

“I assume it was Lord Bellasis who arranged for you to be invited to the ball?” – Ellis, who sat down at the mistress’s feet to help her change her shoes, looked at her from below.

The door opened slightly and James looked into the room.

– Has Sofia already told you? He arranged everything!

Anna glanced at the maid:

- Thank you, Ellis. Please come back to me after a while.

The maid left. James couldn't help but smile.

“You reprimand me for making plans that do not correspond to my humble position, and you yourself send off the maid as if you were a duchess yourself.”

“I hope you’re joking,” Anna bristled.

- So what? What do you have against the Duchess of Richmond?

But James was too excited to come down to earth so easily.

“You’re not saying this seriously, are you?”

- Seriously, but you won’t even listen!

She turned out to be right. There was no hope of cooling her husband's ardor.

– Annie, such a chance comes once in a lifetime! Just imagine: the Duke will be there! Even two dukes, for that matter. My commander and the husband of our mistress.

- That's it.

– Don’t even think about asking anyone to dance! You'll only put us both in an awkward position.

- Okay, we'll see.

- I am not kidding. It's enough of you egging Sofia on.

James frowned.

“You have no reason to doubt this; the boy has very serious intentions.” I'm sure.

“How strange,” thought Anna, “everything around is talking about an imminent battle, and we are discussing the upcoming ball.”

She returned to the room.

“We’ll wait and see,” James said, continuing the conversation, stubbornly unwilling to part with his illusions. He had the expression of an offended four-year-old on his face.

“Keep in mind, if all this nonsense you’re telling Sophia gets her into trouble, I’ll only have you to blame.”

- Agreed.

“And to force an unfortunate young man to beg an invitation from his aunt is extremely humiliating.”

James lost his patience.

“You won’t be able to upset our visit!” I won't allow this!

- I don’t need to do anything. Everything will go wrong on its own.

That's where the conversation ended. An angry James rushed to get dressed for dinner, and his wife rang the bell, inviting Ellis back to her place.

Julian Fellowes

Belgravia

To my wife Emma, without whom my life would hardly be possible

JULIAN FELLOWES’S is an unregistered trade mark of Julian Fellowes and is used by The Orion Publishing Group Limited under license

BELGRAVIA is a registered trade mark of The Orion Publishing Group Limited

The right of Julian Fellowes to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

Imogen Edwards-Jones acted as an editorial consultant on the creation of Julian Fellowes’s Belgravia

Lindy Woodhead acted as a historical consultant on the creation of Julian Fellowes’s Belgravia

First published as Julian Fellowes's Belgravia by Weidenfeld & Nicolson, London

Translation from English by Elena Kislenkova

Cover design by Victoria Manatskova

Map made by Yulia Katashinskaya

1. From the ball to the battle

- Hurry up, otherwise he will go to lunch, and it will turn out that we walked such a distance in vain!

Unlike her mistress, Jane could not boast of beauty, but she had a pleasant face, energetic and rosy, although it would have looked more natural on country paths than on city streets.

She, too, was not timid, and the young mistress liked it.

– I thought you were stronger!

“Please don’t worry,” Sofia said, looking calmly at the officers. – I came to my father, Mr. Trenchard.

“Do you know how to get there, Miss Trenchard?” – a young man stepped forward.

- I know. Thank you.

- Wait here! – she told the maid.

Jane remained in the waiting room, not without pleasure, catching the curious glances of men.

- It's okay, Trenchard...

- Trenchard?

- Mr. Trenchard. But we need flour by evening. My commander made me promise that I would not return without her.

“Captain, I promise to do everything in my power.”

- Did you get it? – he asked with visible excitement.

From the outside it looked very touching: a business man, overweight and balding, was in impatient excitement, like a child on the eve of Christmas.

As slowly as possible, stretching the pause until it was impossible, Sofia opened her reticule and carefully took out white cardboard rectangles.

- As many as three! - she said, enjoying her triumph. – One for you, one for mom and one for me.

To my wife Emma, without whom my life would hardly be possible

JULIAN FELLOWES’S is an unregistered trade mark of Julian Fellowes and is used by The Orion Publishing Group Limited under license

BELGRAVIA is a registered trade mark of The Orion Publishing Group Limited

The right of Julian Fellowes to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

Imogen Edwards-Jones acted as an editorial consultant on the creation of Julian Fellowes’s Belgravia

Lindy Woodhead acted as a historical consultant on the creation of Julian Fellowes’s Belgravia

First published as Julian Fellowes's Belgravia by Weidenfeld & Nicolson, London

Translation from English by Elena Kislenkova

Cover design by Victoria Manatskova

Map made by Yulia Katashinskaya

1. From the ball to the battle

- Hurry up, otherwise he will go to lunch, and it will turn out that we walked such a distance in vain!

Unlike her mistress, Jane could not boast of beauty, but she had a pleasant face, energetic and rosy, although it would have looked more natural on country paths than on city streets.

She, too, was not timid, and the young mistress liked it.

– I thought you were stronger!

“Please don’t worry,” Sofia said, looking calmly at the officers. – I came to my father, Mr. Trenchard.

“Do you know how to get there, Miss Trenchard?” – a young man stepped forward.

- I know. Thank you.

- Wait here! – she told the maid.

Jane remained in the waiting room, not without pleasure, catching the curious glances of men.

- It's okay, Trenchard...

- Trenchard?

- Mr. Trenchard. But we need flour by evening. My commander made me promise that I would not return without her.

“Captain, I promise to do everything in my power.”

- Did you get it? – he asked with visible excitement.

From the outside it looked very touching: a business man, overweight and balding, was in impatient excitement, like a child on the eve of Christmas.

As slowly as possible, stretching the pause until it was impossible, Sofia opened her reticule and carefully took out white cardboard rectangles.

- As many as three! - she said, enjoying her triumph. – One for you, one for mom and one for me.

Trenchard looked at the invitation in amazement.

“I assume Lord Bellasis will be at this dinner?”

- Of course, the duchess is his own aunt.

- Yes of course.

- By the way, there will be no lunch. I mean a real, big lunch. Just family and a few people visiting the Richmonds.

– They always say that there won’t be a dinner, but usually they still organize it.

– Didn’t expect you to be invited?

James Trenchard dreamed of getting there, but did not count on such luck.

- Lord, how glad I am!

– Edmund says that dinner will be served after midnight.

Too young and unreasonably self-confident to realize the enormity of her success, Sofia, being also more pragmatic in such matters than her father, who revered the powers that be, objected:

– It’s too late to order a dress.

“But there’s plenty of time to get yourself into proper shape.”

“I’m afraid mom won’t want to go to the ball.”

- It will go wherever it goes.

Sofia started towards the door when she remembered something else.

- When will we tell mom everything? – she asked, glaring at her father.

“Not yet,” the father answered decisively. – First you need to prepare everything thoroughly. We must follow his example. Now go. And call that stupid idiot back.

Then the door opened and Captain Cooper entered. Trenchard nodded at him. Whatever happens, business comes first.

Sofia turned out to be right. Mother did not want to go to the ball.

– We were invited only because someone else refused at the last moment!

- Do you really care?

- How stupid all this is! – Mrs. Trenchard shook her head. “We won’t see a single familiar face there!”

- Dad will probably meet someone he knows.

“I hope you won’t talk to Lord Bellasis like that?”

Mrs. Trenchard's face softened a little.

“My dear,” she said and took her daughter’s hand. - Beware of building castles in the air.

Sofia pulled her fingers back:

- Well, of course, you don’t believe in his noble intentions!

“On the contrary, I am sure that Lord Bellasis is a worthy man.” And, no doubt, very pleasant.

- You see now!

“And in your opinion, the fact that Lord Bellasis got us an invitation to his aunt’s ball means nothing?”

The last words outraged Sofia seriously.

“Are you saying that, according to the usual rules, we are inappropriate company for friends of the Duchess?”

Mrs. Trenchard was, in her own way, as strong-willed as her daughter.

“That’s exactly what I want to say, and you know it’s true.”

- Dad wouldn't agree with you.

The door opened and Mrs. Trenchard's maid came in with an evening dress:

- Ma'am, am I too early?

- No, no, Ellis, come in. We ended the conversation, right, Sofia?

- If you think so, mommy. – Sofia left the room, but judging by her upturned chin, she left undefeated.

“We were invited on the fifteenth to a ball hosted by the Duchess of Richmond.

- Yes you!

Usually Mary Ellis was excellent at keeping her feelings to herself, but such stunning news unsettled her. However, the chambermaid quickly pulled herself together:

“I wanted to say, we need to decide about the dress, ma’am.” If so, it will take me a while to prepare it.

– What if I wear blue silk? I haven't worn it much this season. Tell you what, please look for some black lace on the neckline and on the sleeves to liven it up a little.

Ellis crouched down, unfolding her straw-colored taffeta evening dress so that her mistress could step into it.

-What about the decorations, ma'am?

– I haven’t thought about it yet. I'll probably wear what I have.

“I assume it was Lord Bellasis who arranged for you to be invited to the ball?” – Ellis, who sat down at the mistress’s feet to help her change her shoes, looked at her from below.

The door opened slightly and James looked into the room.

– Has Sofia already told you? He arranged everything!

Anna glanced at the maid:

- Thank you, Ellis. Please come back to me after a while.

The maid left. James couldn't help but smile.

“You reprimand me for making plans that do not correspond to my humble position, and you yourself send off the maid as if you were a duchess yourself.”

“I hope you’re joking,” Anna bristled.

- So what? What do you have against the Duchess of Richmond?

But James was too excited to come down to earth so easily.

“You’re not saying this seriously, are you?”

- Seriously, but you won’t even listen!

She turned out to be right. There was no hope of cooling her husband's ardor.

– Annie, such a chance comes once in a lifetime! Just imagine: the Duke will be there! Even two dukes, for that matter. My commander and the husband of our mistress.

- That's it.

– Don’t even think about asking anyone to dance! You'll only put us both in an awkward position.

- Okay, we'll see.

- I am not kidding. It's enough of you egging Sofia on.

James frowned.

“You have no reason to doubt this; the boy has very serious intentions.” I'm sure.

“How strange,” thought Anna, “everything around is talking about an imminent battle, and we are discussing the upcoming ball.”

She returned to the room.

“We’ll wait and see,” James said, continuing the conversation, stubbornly unwilling to part with his illusions. He had the expression of an offended four-year-old on his face.

“Keep in mind, if all this nonsense you’re telling Sophia gets her into trouble, I’ll only have you to blame.”

- Agreed.

“And to force an unfortunate young man to beg an invitation from his aunt is extremely humiliating.”

James lost his patience.

“You won’t be able to upset our visit!” I won't allow this!

- I don’t need to do anything. Everything will go wrong on its own.

That's where the conversation ended. An angry James rushed to get dressed for dinner, and his wife rang the bell, inviting Ellis back to her place.

– I hope we are not making a mistake? – the duchess repeated for the twentieth time in the last hour, casting a searching glance at the mirror.

- Wait, you'll still be hungry.

“I hear a carriage has arrived.” We must go down.

The duchess's nephew, Edmund, Viscount Bellasis, spoke with the owners' daughter Georgiana. They approached her parents together.

“Who are these people that Edmund made you invite?” Why don't we know them? – the girl asked her mother.

“You’ll find out after tonight,” Lord Bellasis cut into the conversation.

“You’re not very talkative,” Georgiana remarked.

“I hope your mother will not be angry with me,” said the duchess. She, too, was overcome by doubts, and she already regretted her own generosity.

- Mr. and Mrs. James Trenchard, Miss Sophia Trenchard!

The Duke looked towards the door:

-Have you invited the Wizard? “(The wife responded with a puzzled look.) “This is the nickname of Wellington’s main supplier,” Richmond explained. -What is he doing here?

- Duke of Wellington's quartermaster? – The Duchess turned sternly to her nephew. – I invited a merchant to my ball?

But Lord Bellasis was not so easily disturbed.

- Edmund, you were playing tricks on me! And I don't like being fooled.

But the young man had already left to meet new guests. The Duchess cast an angry glance at her husband.

He was amused by his wife’s rage:

“Don’t look at me so sternly, darling.” I have nothing to do with this. It was you who invited them. And you can’t help but admit that the intendant’s daughter is very pretty.

At least that was true. Sofia looked more charming than ever today.

Richmond didn't have time to say anything more; the Trenchards had already approached them. Anna spoke first:

“Duchess, it was so kind of you to invite us.”

- Oh, what are you talking about, Mrs. Trenchard? I think you are very kind to my nephew.

“I’m always glad to see Lord Bellasis.”

The Duchess involuntarily softened.

“It’s difficult for young people to be far from home,” she said almost kindly.

– I remember very well your... your proposal, I wanted to say. Duke.

Anna took matters into her own hands:

– Let me introduce you to my daughter Sofia.

The Duchess's heart simply sank when she saw how the girl took Edmund's arm and they, whispering, walked together, as if they already belonged to each other.

- Harris! I didn't expect to see you here! – Edmund called out to the pleasant young man. - Meet Major Thomas Harris.

“I need to unwind, too,” said the young officer, bowing to his hosts and smiling at Sofia.

“Mr. James and Lady Frances Wedderburn-Webster,” announced the majordomo, and the Duke stepped forward to greet the next guests.

Julian Fellowes

Belgravia

To my wife Emma, without whom my life would hardly be possible

JULIAN FELLOWES’S is an unregistered trade mark of Julian Fellowes and is used by The Orion Publishing Group Limited under license

BELGRAVIA is a registered trade mark of The Orion Publishing Group Limited

The right of Julian Fellowes to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

Imogen Edwards-Jones acted as an editorial consultant on the creation of Julian Fellowes’s Belgravia

Lindy Woodhead acted as a historical consultant on the creation of Julian Fellowes’s Belgravia

First published as Julian Fellowes's Belgravia by Weidenfeld & Nicolson, London

Translation from English by Elena Kislenkova

Cover design by Victoria Manatskova

Map made by Yulia Katashinskaya

1. From the ball to the battle

- Hurry up, otherwise he will go to lunch, and it will turn out that we walked such a distance in vain!

Unlike her mistress, Jane could not boast of beauty, but she had a pleasant face, energetic and rosy, although it would have looked more natural on country paths than on city streets.

She, too, was not timid, and the young mistress liked it.

– I thought you were stronger!

“Please don’t worry,” Sofia said, looking calmly at the officers. – I came to my father, Mr. Trenchard.