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regiment, all very handsome, very merry
with liquor, and not in the least too abashed to give Lydia and
Harriet the “glad eye.”
Back on the road, they cantered through the hills onto
Godstone Green where they sat in the beautiful flower garden of
the inn for luncheon just before noon. After a refreshing glass of
lemonade and some bread and cheese, they travelled up the long
hill and headed for East Grinstead. Through picturesque woodland and forest, over heathland and past huge black, rugged
rocks, they journeyed through Uckfield and down the valley
into Lewes, with its castle and pretty shops. From here, winding their way up and between the hills of the South Downs, Lydia started to feel most excited; everywhere was bathed in sunshine, the beautiful landscape was verdantly green, and the hills dotted with sheep. Then, as they neared their destination, they saw their first views of the encampment, row upon row of military tents, flags waving, horses braying, and soldiers marching. Lydia
hung out of the window, trying to take it all in.
“Cannot we stop to find the Colonel?” she asked. “I’m
longing to see our friends.”
“No, Lydia,” Harriet replied laughing. “We should never find
Henry’s regiment on our own, and in any case, he is to come to
us later, when he has made sure that the men are comfortable.” Just as Lydia thought the views could not be improved and
their felicity complete, they took in their first real glimpse of the
sea, and the town of Brighton unfurled like a Chinese carpet of
shimmering silks before them. The Marine Pavilion nestled at
its heart, a range of bow windows gracing either side of a domed
building, faced with cream glazed tiles. Along the Steyne they
trotted, past elegant houses, past people parading and coming
and going from their doors with such an air of fashionable
disdain as to make Lydia ache to be one of them. Salty breezes
wafted away the girls’ fatigue as they turned onto the seafront,
and so dense were the crowds that one might have thought they
were in London but for the purity of the air and the freshness of
the scene. They were soon admiring the sweet bow-windowed
houses on one side and the handsome visions of the redcoats
against the watery backdrop on the other, as they stepped out to
find their rooms at the Ship Inn at five o’clock on the seafront
at Brighton!
Chapter 4
    “HARRIET, WE HAVE ARRIVED in paradise,” cried Lydia, watching the throng from her window promenading in an unceasing procession along the cliff edge. Carriages, coaches, curricles, and phaetons, setting down new arrivals or departing with sad-faced passengers, were displayed in a series of pictures through every pane of glass, providing a constant panorama. She could do nothing but look out at the mesmerising mass of water and the waves ruffled by the wind, turquoise and whitecapped with the sun glittering on the water, inviting the gulls to wheel between the fishing boats and sailing ships. What a sight! How her mama would have loved it here; the air was so invigorating, she was sure her nerves would be improved with a single sniff.
    Within the hour the Colonel arrived to greet them, bestowing kisses of affection upon them both and joining them for dinner. “The officers are dining in the mess, my dears, but will join us on the Steyne later for an evening walk,” Henry Forster announced. “Now, what’s for dinner? I hope we’ll have some fish, though I can’t abide bloaters; they don’t agree with me!”
    They sat down at a window table in the dining room to a splendid repast of baked fish, prawn pies, and syllabubs, all the more delicious for being eaten as they gazed at the ever-changing sea view and their more immediate surroundings.
    “There are a great number of people staying here and several tables are occupied with an assortment of interesting characters,” Harriet observed. She had been silent for some time, preoccupied with the pursuit of watching her fellow guests.