A Teacher of Love Read online

Tasia clapped her hands.

  “Very good, Simon. I am glad you know that and who told you?”

  “I think we were made to write it down – ”

  “It is a pity your Tutors did not tell you about the Emperor Caligula as he was a most extraordinary man.”

  “What did he do?”

  “He fell in love with his horse called Incitatus. He gave him a marble stall and a beautiful ivory manger with purple housings and the front was covered in jewels.”

  The boys were instantly interested and she went on,

  “Caligula took his horse with him everywhere. He was always kissing and cuddling him!”

  The boys laughed.

  “People must have thought it extraordinary.”

  “The horse was as important as the Emperor! He insisted that his friends treat his horse with more respect than was paid to any of his wives!”

  “Did he have a lot of wives?” asked Peter.

  “Just as many as he wanted, but Caligula paid very little attention to them. His horse had his own servants and was fed with the best food available.”

  “That was strange,” the boys chorused.

  “He wanted Incitatus to be one of the Consuls. But, when he was told that this was not possible, he was furious and threw himself into a rage that lasted for weeks.”

  “What happened to him in the end?”

  “He ruled Rome for four years, then as sometimes happened in those days to anyone who was overbearing, a Tribune struck him with his sword.”

  The boys were now listening intently.

  “He was followed by the other conspirators who all hated Caligula and he received more than thirty wounds.”

  “That seems a very sad way to die,” sighed Simon.

  “I think we must try to find a picture of Incitatus and then one of Caligula to add to your collection.”

  The boys agreed.

  When they arrived at Madame Tussaud’s, they were entranced by the waxworks.

  They took so long over each exhibit, asking questions and checking the models over from every angle, that it took some time to get as far as the little Princes in the Tower.

  The boys looked at the life-size waxworks of the tragic princes and Tasia could see the emotion in their eyes.

  Then an attendant informed them that Richard III was amongst the Kings and Queens of England in another room.

  When they saw the King, wearing a high-centred crown, which looked like a hat and holding a sword in his hand, the boys laughed.

  “He does look funny and he has a crooked nose!”

  “I have always heard that was characteristic of him, but now I want you to look at another waxwork figure of a General who fought one of the greatest battles England has ever won and over two thousand horses took part in it.”

  “Which battle was that?”

  “I am sure you have heard of it – it’s the Battle of Waterloo. Over there is a waxwork effigy of Napoleon Bonaparte that the Duke of Wellington, who defeated him at the battle, came especially to see here.”

  She could see the boys were interested, but she had a suspicion that they had not been told much about the Battle of Waterloo by their Tutors, as they were astonished to hear how many horses had taken part in the battle.

  Then Tasia said that she had always been distressed to learn how many horses had been killed.

  There was silence for a moment, and then Simon asked,

  “Why did they kill the horses?”

  “I don’t think that it was the soldiers so much as the guns. Wars are always wrong and many people are killed leaving their families bereft and often penniless.”

  For a moment the boys looked depressed, so Tasia suggested,

  “There is a picture, I do believe, somewhere here of the Duke of Wellington. Let’s see if we can find it.”

  The boys then found the picture, but the Duke did not particularly impress them until Tasia told them that the Duke’s horse was a chestnut called Copenhagen.

  “What a funny name,” commented Simon.

  “It was the name of another battle the Duke won. He was a most interesting and handsome man. I am sure that there will be some pictures of him in the library.”

  “Will we find one of his horse?”

  “Let’s try – and I don’t think we have a chestnut in our collection as yet.”

  Then Tasia had another idea.

  “What I think we must do is to try to copy some of the horses and paint them in their right colours.”

  “We haven’t got any paints – ”

  “That can easily be remedied.”

  Tasia told the carriage to take them to a stationery shop, where they found two splendid paintboxes.

  She also bought plenty of paintbrushes and paper as well as boards on which they could pin their paintings.

  She added crayons, pencils and rubbers that she doubted were in the house.

  The salesman began to make up the bill and whilst he was doing so, Tasia handed her purse to Peter.

  “Make sure the bill is correct, Peter, and pay him. I just want to have a look round the other end of the shop as there may be something else I need there.”

  Before Peter could protest, she walked off, knowing that the two boys were staring at her purse.

  It was filled with quite a lot of small change as well as several golden guineas.

  Tasia busied herself looking for items she did not want, but keeping away from the cash desk.

  It was sometime later when Peter came over to say,

  “We have paid for all we have bought, Miss Wicke, and here is the bill and your purse.”

  “Thank you very much, Peter, you are quite certain he has not cheated us?”

  “I don’t think so. It took me some time to add it up and I am sure it’s correct.”

  “That is very clever of you and thank you so much for doing it for me.”

  She took the purse and they went outside.

  By now it was almost one o’clock and they returned to the house.

  “Will you be a-wantin’ the carriage this afternoon, ma’am?” the coachman asked as they climbed out.

  Tasia thought for a moment.

  “I think, as it is such a lovely day, we might drive to Trafalgar Square.”

  “I’ll come round again at two o’clock, ma’am.”

  Tasia thanked him.

  Inside the house the boys asked,

  “Why are we going to Trafalgar Square?”

  “There is something I want you to see there which is directly connected with the Duke of Wellington, but I bet you cannot guess who we will see in the Square or why he is there.”

  She made them try to think of any possible person and gave them a few hints, but in the end had to say it was the statue of Horatio Nelson.

  However, realising there was no horse connected to Nelson, the boys were not particularly interested.

  When they reached Trafalgar Square, Tasia pointed out the four magnificent lions that crouched at the base of the plinth of Nelson’s Column.

  She then remembered that the lions had only been unveiled three years ago and she was sure that they would impress the boys.

  In fact they were delighted.

  “I didn’t know lions were so big,” Simon sighed.

  “They are not, but these are particularly handsome lions. Tomorrow we will go and view the lions in the zoo and see which you think are the best-looking.”

  Suddenly Tasia had another bright idea.

  “I think animals are often like people to look at, so when we go to the zoo tomorrow, we will see which of the animals resemble people we know.”

  “That’s a really funny idea,” Peter laughed.

  “Who do you think this lion resembles?” she asked, looking up at one of the great lions in front of them.

  The boys hesitated and then Simon piped up,

  “I think he’s like Papa!”

  Peter laughed.

  “I think you are right, he is just like P
apa especially when he has told us we have done something wrong!”

  “That is number one on the list, Peter, and I think you should draw a picture of the lion and the other animals when we decide who they look like.”

  Later that evening when the boys had gone to bed, Mr. Seymour came in to ask,

  “How did you get on today, Miss Wicke? I thought the young gentlemen were looking very happy when they came back from your visit to Trafalgar Square.”

  “They were entranced by the lions, as I was when I first saw them. Tomorrow we will be going to the zoo to decide which animal each person in the house resembles.”

  Mr. Seymour threw up his hands.

  “Only you, Miss Wicke, could ever think of such a novel idea. I gather from what Master Peter told me when he gave me the bill for the stationery shop that you let him pay for the goods with your own money.”

  Tasia smiled.

  “It was the first arithmetic lesson and he enjoyed it. It is so much more fun than just adding and subtracting loads of dull figures.”

  “Of course it is, and I can only congratulate you, Miss Wicke, on being the brightest and most unusual lady I have ever met.”

  Tasia laughed loudly.

  “We have a great number of hedges to jump before we can feel the boys are in any way educated. But at least they seem rather happier and not fighting against lessons of dreary hours of reading and writing and learning by heart.”

  “They will have to one day, as we both know only too well,” observed Mr. Seymour.

  “But doubtless when you were Peter’s age, you too thought it all extremely boring.”

  He had to admit it was true.

  *

  The next day they set off for the zoo. Tasia was feeling elated as before they left they had found a picture of the Duke of Wellington on Copenhagen.

  Unfortunately it was only in black and white and as Tasia commented,

  “No one who looked at this picture would know his mount was a chestnut. That is why you have to draw the picture, then paint it the right colour with your new paints.”

  She was delighted to see that Simon liked the idea, even though he was afraid he could not draw well enough.

  “I’ll tell you what I’ll do now, although it is slightly cheating, but I think it will be all right as you are a beginner.”

  “What is that?” enquired Simon.

  “I will trace the outline of the horse for you. Then all you have to do is to fill it in and paint it.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Peter chipped in. “Will you do one for me too?”

  “I thought you would like to lead the way. If I trace a lion for you, you can give it your father’s face and make it a present for him when he returns.”

  “Do you think he will like it?” Peter asked a little doubtfully.

  “I think anyone would be very flattered to resemble a magnificent lion like those on Nelson’s Column.”

  “So if we then show him the picture of the horse,” Simon suggested, “he will realise that Wellington’s horse is the sort of mount we would love to ride.”

  “Of course he will, Simon.”

  While they were going to the zoo, Tasia told them that before the zoo opened animals were kept in the Tower of London.

  “That is another place we must visit, boys. I went to the Tower years ago and was thrilled by it and by the marvellous jewellery that is kept there.”

  The boys, however, were only interested in hearing about the lions and tigers in the menagerie of the Tower.

  “We always wanted to go to the zoo,” Peter said. “But the Tutors said we must wait until Papa took us.”

  “And now you are going to see many more animals than there ever were in the Tower of London. So I will be interested to see which of them interests you most.”

  The boys were excited when they moved through the pavilions to see zebras, jackals, llamas and monkeys and there were elephants and giraffes and a variety of birds, which Tasia preferred to anything else.

  They walked round practically everything once and then they started round again.

  Now Tasia directed them to choose those animals, which, if they drew them, would have the faces of people.

  They chose a jackal to represent Mr. Seymour and a large furry bear for Mrs. Donaldson!

  “Which one do you think I am like?” asked Tasia.

  Peter put his head on one side as if he had not really looked at her very closely before.

  Then he shouted out,

  “That is who you are like!” pointing behind her.

  Tasia turned to see a peacock spreading out his tail and looking most colourful by the flowering bushes.

  “Thank you, Peter. This is really one of the nicest compliments I have ever had.”

  “The peacock is not pretty enough,” argued Simon. “I think Miss Wicke is like the big white swans swimming on that lake.”

  “I am delighted to look like them too and perhaps we can say that the giraffes are just like the grooms and the zebras are like the footmen!”

  The boys giggled at the idea, but could not think of anyone who resembled the elephants.

  When they returned to the house, Tasia gave them their drawing boards and outlined the pictures for them.

  “We have much more to do tomorrow, boys, and if you don’t complete these now, your father will come home and you will have nothing to give him as a present.”

  “Maybe he won’t like them.” Peter looked worried.

  “Of course he will like them,” said Tasia positively. “When I drew my first picture of a dog for my Mama, she had it framed and it always stood on her writing desk.”

  The boys were convinced and started painting.

  There was no doubt that Simon had a talent for it, but Peter was quickly bored and begged Tasia to show him how to play the piano.

  As soon as Peter started picking out the notes, she realised that he was definitely musical. It was a shame that no one had realised that he had an ear for music.

  She was certain that he would soon learn to play the piano, perhaps better than she did herself and indeed by the end of the week he could pick out a tune.

  She was sure that, if he had proper music lessons, he would soon be playing extremely well for a young boy, yet she was for the moment afraid to suggest that the boys had any other teachers.

  They might easily lapse back into their aggressive attitude towards lessons.

  *

  “You have done wonders,” Mr. Seymour exclaimed after she had been there for two weeks. “I cannot believe they are the same boys as when you arrived.”

  Tasia laughed.

  “I am only worried what will happen when I leave.”

  Mr. Seymour looked horrified.

  “You must not even think of it – you cannot leave when everything is going so well. I have never seen such a change in the two boys as you have achieved.”

  “They still do not think they are doing lessons. It is not going to be easy for them to settle down with a Tutor.”

  There was silence for a moment and then she knew that Mr. Seymour was thinking the same.

  “You have not heard from his Lordship?”

  “Not a word, but then I never do. I suddenly wake up to find a commotion at the front of the house, servants running in every direction and I know by the expression on their faces that my Lord and Master has returned!”

  “I can see it all happening, but it does seem strange that he does not write letters to his children or even to you to enquire how they are.”

  There was another silence before he added,

  “His Lordship is a gentleman who feels deeply. He has never got over the way his wife left him – and in some ways it has changed his nature completely.”

  “I guessed,” reflected Tasia, “although no one told me that his wife ran away with someone else.”

  “I can see no reason why you should not know the truth, Miss Wicke. What happened was that his Lordship’s father, who was m
ost dictatorial, forced him into marriage before he was twenty-one.

  “It was to a young woman who came from a most distinguished family. He thought she would make his son an excellent wife, as she was the same age.

  “Apparently her father was very afraid of her being snapped up by a fortune-hunter or someone he disapproved of and the two fathers then just forced their children up the aisle with disastrous results.”

  “What happened exactly?”

  “His Lordship was never in love with his wife and after they were married he neglected her for his sport. He enjoyed shooting, fishing and riding, while she was never keen on any of those activities.”

  “So they had little or nothing in common?”

  “His Lordship always spent much of his time in the country, while his wife preferred to be in London. Finally when he came back after a shoot on his estate, he found she had left.”

  “Alone?” enquired Tasia.

  Mr. Seymour shook his head.

  “No, apparently she had been in love with a young man since her teens, but her father would not consider him as suitable. She therefore felt that if she could not marry the man she loved, it did not matter whose name she bore.”

  “I can quite understand her.”

  “Anyway the young man in question then inherited a large fortune unexpectedly and, without any warning, her Ladyship left England – merely leaving a note telling her husband, his Lordship, that she would never return.”

  “It must have been a terrible shock to his pride.”

  “It was indeed, Miss Wicke, but sadly his father was dying and he went back to the country to spend the last weeks of his father’s life with him.”

  “So he lost his father and his wife together?”

  “I think losing his wife was somewhat of a relief. They had nothing in common and so when she was killed two years later in an accident, it seemed to me as if his Lordship was free of the chains that had bound him and he felt that his life was starting all over again.”

  “Perhaps he will now marry someone he really loves and live happily ever after,” sighed Tasia.

  “I am afraid not – because of the way his wife behaved he has a positive antipathy to women. He has said over and over again to his friends, and even to me, that he will never marry again.”

  “That’s such a pity where the boys are concerned.”