Barbara Bradford - The Cavendon Women

Charlotte smiled, remembering this incident herself. She hadn’t been present, but she had certainly heard all about it the next day.

‘Apparently none of the ladies was able to come near you, since you were covered in that chocolate. At least, so I was told. They were afraid of the chocolate getting on their gowns.’

Dulcie grinned, then asked, ‘Where’s Daphne? Do you know, Miss Charlotte? I haven’t been able to find her.’

‘I’m sure she’ll be back in the conservatory by now. She told me she was going there to check on all her seating plans.’

‘Then I shall go there. Once you’ve told me who the good negotiator is.’

‘Why Cecily, of course,’ Charlotte answered.

‘Welcome back, darling,’ Daphne said, as Dulcie rushed across the conservatory, and flung her arms around her favourite sister. ‘I’ve missed you,’ she added, and then held Dulcie away, staring at her intently. ‘More beautiful than ever,’ she pronounced.

‘No, no, no, you’re the renowned beauty of this family,’ Dulcie exclaimed, and went on swiftly, ‘I couldn’t get here quickly enough, I’ve so much to tell you. And mostly about Felicity.’

Daphne nodded, and guided Dulcie over to the wicker loveseat, where they sat down. Ever since their mother had left Cavendon, Dulcie only ever referred to her as Felicity, never Mama. Sometimes she even referred to her as ‘that woman who abandoned me’, and had a string of ridiculous and rather nasty nicknames for her.

Daphne understood why. Felicity had been too preoccupied with her sister’s fatal illness, and her own personal problems, to pay too much attention to Dulcie when she was little, and the child had never forgiven her. Now that she was a young woman, that animosity still lingered.

Settling herself on the loveseat, Daphne said, ‘So, tell me everything, I’m all ears.’

‘I’ve been informed that Felicity is going to throw out Lawrence Pierce, that knife-wielding maniacal quack – and, by the way, that’s not the only thing he wields. From what I understand, he’s quite the womanizer, wielding his manhood everywhere.’

Dulcie sat back next to her sister and waited for a reaction, her eyes fixed on Daphne’s face.

Daphne burst out laughing, as always genuinely amused by Dulcie’s extraordinary use of language. Their father constantly said she had a unique way with words and should have been a writer, and Daphne thought the same thing.

‘Who told you this?’

‘Margaret Atholl’s mother,’ Dulcie answered. ‘Lady Dunham. She also said there’s a rumour that the marriage is unhappy, and Felicity is planning to return to Cavendon. She won’t come back, will she, Daphers? I couldn’t bear to have that greedy, man-hungry creature here. Papa wouldn’t fall for her again, would he?’

Shaking her head, the laughter bubbling inside her, Daphne answered, ‘She won’t even attempt it. And certainly Father is not interested in her one iota. This is just idle gossip you’ve heard. However, perhaps she is going to throw the surgeon out. I, too, have heard stories about his behaviour.’

‘A flagrant and very experienced adulterer, who thinks he’s the Don Juan of all Don Juans, impossible to resist. And very conceited about his … hidden charms, shall we say?’

Daphne couldn’t help laughing again, and then she finally managed to say, ‘All surgeons think they’re God, according to Diedre. Because they save lives, I suppose.’

‘Or ruin them,’ Dulcie shot back. There was a moment of silence, and then Dulcie moved closer, confided, ‘I think Aunt Vanessa might marry her artist friend. He’s awfully nice, by the way, and he’s from the very proper Barnard family, and well connected. He was very kind to me, helping me with my art history course.’

Daphne was taken by surprise and gave Dulcie a penetrating look. ‘Are you sure there’s an engagement in the wind?’

‘I’m not absolutely certain, but it looks like it to me. He practically lives at her house, and they’re never apart. They sort of … drool over each other.’

‘Papa doesn’t know. He would have told me. But then Aunt Vanessa doesn’t have to report to him, since she’s in her forties and can do whatever she wants.’

‘Gosh, I wouldn’t want to wait so long to get married! Is that too old to have babies, do you think, Daphers?’

‘Perhaps,’ Daphne answered.

Dulcie, who was facing the door, jumped up when she saw her father standing there. He looked furious, and she wondered if he was angry with her. Because she hadn’t gone to see him first.

Daphne also caught sight of him at the entrance to the conservatory, and instantly knew something had happened. The angry stance told her that. What had upset him? He was usually easy-going, genial. She cringed inside, prayed it wasn’t anything to do with the events planned for the next two days.

‘Hello, Papa,’ Dulcie said as soon as their father came to a stop next to them. ‘I just arrived,’ she explained swiftly. ‘I was about to come and say hello to you, Papa.’

A smile flitted across Charles Ingham’s face, and disappeared at once. He brought his youngest daughter into his arms, kissed her cheek. ‘Welcome home, darling. Glad to have you back, and also that you’re early.’ He paused, released her and asked, ‘Have any of your sisters arrived yet?’

‘Not that I know of, I think I’m the first. I wanted to get here in time for afternoon tea.’

He nodded, and then turned his attention to Daphne, who had risen from the loveseat. ‘I need to speak to you about something. Privately. And it is rather urgent.’ He glanced at Dulcie. ‘Would you excuse us, Dulcie, please?’

‘Yes, of course, Papa. I must go up to my room. I left Layton unpacking my suitcases.’

Once they were alone, Daphne gave her father a questioning look. ‘Papa, whatever’s wrong? I can see you’re angry.’ She felt taut, anxious, though she tried to conceal this.

‘I’m angry, upset – and totally baffled. I went down to the lower vaults to get something from one of the safes, and I discovered there are pieces of jewellery missing.’

Daphne couldn’t hide her shock. ‘But how can that be? Only you have the key!’

‘That’s true, and it was in its designated place. I took it, opened the main vault, went to a safe, took out a case, and found a pair of earrings missing. Diamond earrings. I looked in several other cases, and they were empty. I was in shock, Daphne. I couldn’t believe my eyes.’

‘Please, Papa, let’s go down there at once. And we had better check all the jewel cases. Don’t you agree?’

‘I do indeed. I was so upset I just rushed up here without doing that.’

‘Do you think somebody knew where the key was? Took it, went down there – let’s say during the night – and made off with those pieces?’

‘How can I say? Who would know where the main key is kept?’

‘Have you mentioned this to Hanson?’

The Earl shook his head. ‘I came straight up here, looking for you. Let’s go, Daphne, and bring a piece of paper and a pencil with you. We’d better make a list of everything that’s missing. How unfortunate I discovered this now, with all the things we have going on these next few days.’

Although there was a silver vault on the kitchen floor, which contained the pieces used all the time, there were other, older vaults, on the floor below in the lower cellars. These vaults had been built by Humphrey Ingham, the 1st Earl of Mowbray. He had planned them with the architects, when the house was being built in the 1700s. They were cavernous, and not only housed a huge collection of jewellery, but also all the most important and valuable pieces of silver made by the great master silversmiths of the eighteenth century.