Barbara Bradford - The Cavendon Women

Daphne turned, glanced at the door as it opened. There was a sudden flurry of activity as Hanson swept into the yellow drawing room, leading his team.

Right behind him was Gordon Lane, now the senior footman, accompanied by Ian Melrose, the second footman, and Jessie Phelps, the head housemaid. The three of them were pushing tea trolleys laden with finger sandwiches, scones, strawberry jam and clotted cream, and all the usual fancy buns and cakes.

‘A sight for sore eyes,’ Hugo murmured. ‘I’ve been so busy today I’ve worked up quite an appetite.’

‘I know, so have I. But mostly I just want a good cup of tea,’ Daphne said.

Miles, who had been talking to Lady Gwendolyn, now walked over to join Diedre, who was sitting with Cecily. ‘I’m sorry about that, Ceci,’ he said quietly. ‘I hope you didn’t get upset.’

‘No, I didn’t. But what your aunt did do was alert me, and I hope you, too. We’ll have to make sure she doesn’t do anything to upset Charlotte and your father at the dinner tomorrow – or, even worse, create some sort of scene in the church on Sunday.’

‘You’re right on target. We’ll keep a sharp eye on her.’

Diedre said, ‘She’s preposterous, not to mention stupid. What in God’s name did she think she could achieve by making those awful comments?’

‘Let’s just dismiss it now, and put it down to dim-wittedness,’ Miles said. ‘She’s always been somewhat stupid, in my opinion.’

‘That’s right,’ Diedre agreed, and rose. ‘I’m going to sit with Great-Aunt Gwendolyn. I want to speak to her about something, if you will excuse me.’

Once they were alone, Miles took hold of Cecily’s hand; to his surprise and pleasure, she didn’t pull it away. She simply looked at him, her eyes questioning.

‘There’s something I need to ask you,’ he said, and paused, looking uncertain about continuing.

Cecily remained silent, hoping he wasn’t going to talk about something personal … about them and their relationship.

After a moment, Miles plunged in. ‘Look, DeLacy really wants the two of you to become friends again. She’s genuinely missed you over the years, Ceci. And she’s ready to apologize.’

Cecily didn’t answer at first, and then finally she said: ‘We can be friends again, of course. It’s silly to hold grudges, and of course I’ll accept her apology. But there is just one thing, Miles … I do work. Very hard and long hours. Just so long as she understands this, and that I won’t always be available.’

‘I’m sure she will. I’ll make sure she does.’ He squeezed her hand, and then let go of it. She had a sudden look of discomfort on her face, and he realized that it wasn’t going to be easy, winning Ceci back into his arms.

A moment later, Dulcie came and flopped down in the chair next to the sofa. She grimaced. ‘If Aunt Lavinia dares to make another rotten comment, I promise you I’m going to grab the first cream bun I see and shove it in her mouth. If that doesn’t shut her up, I don’t know what will.’

Cecily began to laugh and so did Miles. Glancing at Cecily he said, ‘Don’t think Dulcie’s joking, because she isn’t.’

‘Of course I’m not joking,’ Dulcie assured them, frowning, wondering why anyone would think that. She always did what she said she was going to do. She was an Ingham, after all. And Ingham women, especially, always stood up to be counted.

The house was still. So quiet that Cecily was alarmed. She stood in the small entrance foyer, her head cocked, listening for sounds of life.

Nothing stirred. This worried her. Her aunt had not looked well earlier; rather tired, worn out, actually. She hoped Charlotte had not collapsed, taken to her bed.

Cecily had come over to her house to help her try on the last of the clothes she had brought from London. That was an exhausting exercise, fitting frocks and outfits, and she hoped Charlotte was up to it.

Cecily walked towards the sitting room when she heard noises on the floor above and stopped. ‘Are you up there, Aunt Charlotte?’ she called, and immediately began to climb the stairs.

Charlotte appeared on the landing, looking down at her great-niece.

‘Cecily! I didn’t expect you until later.’

They hugged when Cecily stepped out onto the landing, and then they went into Charlotte’s bedroom together.

Cecily noticed the photograph in the silver frame at once. It was of David Ingham, the 5th Earl, for whom Charlotte had worked from the age of seventeen until his death. She had been his personal assistant.

Over the years their relationship had grown much more personal, although they had been so discreet that nobody knew for certain if they had been lovers or not. Except for the Swanns, who were aware of everything that went on at Cavendon.

The frame on the bed was next to a number of leather-bound notebooks and a pile of legal documents. And instantly Charlotte noticed a peculiar look on Cecily’s face, and followed the direction of her gaze. She asked, ‘Why are you so interested in David’s photograph?’

‘I was wondering why you have it in your bedroom? After all, your fiancé might find it strange, having his father’s image staring back at him all the time.’

Charlotte burst out laughing. After a moment, when her hilarity had subsided, she said, ‘It’s usually locked up in a drawer. But I’ve been making a special list for you, and the code number for my main safe is on the back of his picture. That’s why it’s here.’

As she was speaking, Charlotte took the photograph out of the frame, and showed Cecily the number neatly written on the back. ‘This is the combination for the big safe, where I keep my jewellery and those documents.’

Reaching for the list on the bedside table, she gave it to Cecily. ‘I just added the number here. And, by the way, those are some of the record books. They are kept with many others in the second safe. I’ve been rearranging them, putting them in order.’

Cecily nodded, glanced at the list. ‘And what are these other numbers?’

‘I’ll explain the list later. I want to tell you something else. When I die, you will take my place and keep the record books. Until you die. Before that happens, you must designate the person who will replace you to keep the records.’

Suddenly troubled, Cecily asked, ‘What’s wrong, Aunt Charlotte? Are you ill?’

‘No, I’m not, don’t be so silly.’

‘Then why are you talking about wills and dying, when you’re about to get married?’

‘You of all people should know how practical I am. I want my affairs in order before I marry Charles. Also, we are going abroad, we’ll be travelling, and I am fifty-eight years old. So, just in case—’

‘Just in case what?’ Cecily interrupted sharply.

‘Don’t get het up, Ceci dear. I’m perfectly well, and fit, and sound of mind. However, I do have quite a few possessions, such as this house, jewellery David bought me over the years, certain investments he made for me. I just want everything to be quite clear to you. I’m not going to die for a very long time, I promise you.’

‘I’ll hold you to that.’

‘I won’t let you down. Nobody knows what’s going to happen from one day to the next. We are not in control of life. Life controls us. We have to handle what befalls us the best way we can. And hope and pray that it comes out right in the end. Remember this, Ceci.’

‘I do take what you say seriously. I do listen to you,’ Cecily reassured her.

Picking up one of the notebooks, Charlotte opened it at a certain page, handed it to Cecily. ‘Please read this particular entry.’

Staring at the page, Cecily read the words which had been penned in a beautiful copperplate handwriting.