Виктория Холт: The Landower Legacy

Secrets! Adults had many of them. It would be interesting to know what they really meant, for when they said one thing, they very often meant something else.

I felt the locket against my skin.

Well, I too had my secrets.

As the great day approached the excitement intensified. No one seemed to speak of anything but the Jubilee. The day before there was to be a dinner party and that meant in addition to Jubilee Fever there was the bustle such an occasion always demanded.

In the morning Miss Bell took us for our usual morning walk. The streets near the square, usually so sedate, were filling with traders selling Jubilee favours.

“Buy a mug for the little ladies,” they pleaded. “Come on. Show respec’ for ‘er Gracious Majesty.”

Miss Bell hurried us past and said we would go into the Park.

We walked along by the Serpentine while she told us about the Great Exhibition which had been set up largely under the auspices of the Prince Consort, that much lamented husband of our dear Queen. We had heard it all before and I was much more interested in watching the ducks. We had brought nothing to feed them with. Mrs. Terras, the cook, usually supplied us with stale bread, but on this morning, because of the coming dinner party, she was too busy to be bothered with us.

We sat down by the water, and Miss Bell, always intent on improving our minds, turned the subject to the Queen’s coming to the throne fifty glorious years before, and she went over the oft-repeated tale of our dear Queen’s rising from her bed, wrapped in her dressing gown, her long fair hair loose about her shoulders, to be told she was the Queen.

“We must remember what the dear Queen said—young as she was and wise … oh so wise even then. She said: ‘I will be good.’ There! Who would have believed a young girl could have shown such wisdom? And not much older than you, Olivia. Imagine. Who else could have made such a vow?”

“Olivia would,” I said. “She always wants to be good.”

It occurred to me then that good people were not always wise, and I couldn’t help pointing out that the two qualities did not always go hand in hand.

Miss Bell looked faintly exasperated and said: “You must learn to accept the conclusions of those older and wiser than yourself, Caroline.”

“But if one never questions anything, how can one find new answers?” I asked.

“Why seek a new answer, when you have one already?”

“Because there might be another,” I insisted.

“I think we should now be returning,” said Miss Bell.

How often, I ruminated, were conversations brought to such abrupt terminations.

I did not care. Like everyone else, I was thinking about tomorrow.

From our bedroom we could see the carriages arriving with all the guests and on such a night as this the square seemed full of them. I supposed we were not the only ones who were giving a dinner party.

It was about eight o’clock. We were supposed to be in bed, for we must be fresh for the morning when we would be leaving the house early so that we should be in our places before the streets were closed to traffic. The carriage was to take us to the Ponsonbys’ or the Sansons’— we had not been told which invitation had been accepted. As we were going with our mother, Miss Bell would have to take her chance in the streets and she was accompanying Everton to some vantage point. The servants had made their arrangements. Rosie was going by herself.

“Alone?” I asked and she looked at me and gave me a little push.

“Ask no questions and you’ll hear no lies,” she said.

I think Papa would be at some function. All I cared about was that he should not be with us. He would have cast a decided gloom over the day.

Having seen the carriages arrive, I went with Olivia to our nook by the banisters and watched the guests received.

Our mother was sparkling in a dress trimmed with pink beads and pearls. She wore a little band of diamonds in her hair and looked exquisite. Papa stood beside her, and in his black clothes and frilled shirt he looked magnificent.

We could hear their voices and catch the occasional comment.

“How good of you to come.”

“It is such a pleasure to see you.”

“What a wonderful prelude to the great day.”

And so it went on.

Then my heart leaped with pleasure, for approaching my parents was Captain Carmichael.

So he was back in London as he had said he would be. He looked very handsome, although he was not in uniform. He was as tall as my father and as impressive in his way as my father was in his—only whereas my father cast gloom he brought merriment.

He had passed on and the next guest was received.

I felt bemused. I dared not wear my locket for I was in my night attire and it would be seen. It lay under my pillow. It was safe there, but I should have liked to be wearing it at that moment.

When the guests had all been received I just wanted to sit there.

“I’m going back to bed,” said Olivia.

I nodded and she crept away, but I still sat on, hoping that Captain Carmichael would come out and I should get another glimpse of him.

I listened to the sounds of conversation. Soon they would go down to the dining room which was on the ground floor.

Then my mother came out with Captain Carmichael. They were talking very quietly and soon were joined by a man and woman. The stood for a while talking—about the Jubilee, of course.

I caught scraps of the conversation.

“They say she refused to wear a crown.”

“It’s to be a bonnet.”

“A bonnet! Fancy!”

“Hush! Lese-majesty.”

“But it’s true. Halifax has told her that the people want a gilding for their money and Rosebery says an Empire should be ruled by a sceptre not a bonnet.”

“Will it really be a bonnet? I don’t believe it.”

“Oh yes, the order has gone out. Bonnets and long high dresses without mantle.”

“It will not be much like a royal occasion.”

“My dear, where she is there could be nothing but a royal occasion.”

Captain Carmichael said, and he had a very clear voice which was audible right to the top of the house, “It’s true, I hope, that she had insisted on modifying the Prince Consort’s rules about divorcees.”

“Yes. Incredible, is it not? She wishes the poor ladies who are innocent parties to divorce to be admitted to the celebrations.”

My father had come out a few seconds before.

“Reasonable, of course,” said the Captain. “Why should they be penalized for what is not their fault?”

“Immorality should be penalized,” said my father.

“My dear Tressidor,” retorted the Captain, “innocent parties are not guilty. How otherwise could they be innocent?”

“The Prince Consort was right,” insisted my father. “He excluded all who were involved in these sordid affairs, and I am glad to say that Salisbury has put his foot down about inviting foreign divorcees.”

“There has to be some human feeling surely,” went on the Captain.

My father said in a very cold voice: “There are principles involved.”

And my mother cut in: “Let us go to dinner, shall we? Why do we stand about here?”

She was clearly changing the subject and as they started downstairs someone said to her, “I hear you will be at the Ponsonbys’.”

“I was kindly asked by Marcia Sanson. My little girls are so looking forward to it.”

The voices faded away.

I sat there for some time thinking: I believe that Captain Carmichael and my father do not like each other very much.

Then I crept into bed, felt my locket safe beneath the pillow and went to sleep.

We were up early next morning and Miss Bell was very careful with our toilettes. She had long pondered, going through our moderate wardrobes deciding on what garments would best do justice to our mother; she picked bottle green for me and crushed strawberry for Olivia. Our dresses were both made on the same lines with flounced skirts, decorous bodices and sleeves to the elbow. We wore long white stockings and black boots, and carried white gloves, and each of us had a straw hat, mine bearing a green ribbon and Olivia’s crushed strawberry.